Free Hard to Let Go by Laura Kaye Page A

and you. I wouldn’t disrespect you by sharing something so private. And I’m not some eighteen-year-old kid who can’t keep his mouth shut.” He reined in his irritation, because giving voice to it wasn’t going to help a damn thing.
    Kat paced a few steps closer, bringing her beautiful face out of the shadows. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you for that.” She sighed and paced a bit closer yet. Beckett tracked her movement like a lion tracked prey. The closer she came, the more something deep inside him wanted to pounce. For fuck sake. “Look, I’m sorry for taking your head off out there. Sometimes I just need some alone time to get my shit together, and that’s hard as hell to get around here.”
    The sentiment sounded so much like something he might say that Beckett actually chuckled. “Damn if that isn’t true.”
    Kat gave a little laugh, too.
    And the sound of it reached inside him and . . . unsettled him. He liked it, that was for sure. He liked giving her a reason to smile or laugh. It made him feel like . . . like he had some value. Like he wasn’t just a giant pain in the ass. “You never seem like you don’t have your shit together, though.”
    It was true. Kat was tough, feisty, confident, competent. According to Nick, she hadn’t hesitated to grab a weapon and follow the guys up onto the roof to defend against the attack that destroyed part of the building. She hadn’t even needed to be asked. And she’d stepped up immediately to take shifts in the snipers’ roosts. On top of it all, she was a highly educated lawyer willing to put it all on the line to protect her family. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met a woman as badass as Katherine Rixey.
    “Well, I guess that’s good to know. I’m just . . .” She shrugged and ducked her chin.
    “What?”
    She shook her head. “Nothing . . .”
    Beckett wasn’t having that. He needed to know what she’d almost said. Because this was the most real conversation they’d ever had. No snark, no anger, no audience. And after what had happened between them this afternoon, that seemed to matter. So he closed the distance between them and tilted her chin up with his fingers. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at the touch, and damn if those little physical reactions didn’t reverberate through his blood. “What?”
    For a long moment Beckett didn’t think she’d answer, and then the words started pouring out of her. “Have you ever felt . . . just . . . angry? And not known what to do with it? How to direct it? How to get rid of it?” She raked her hand through the top of her hair, causing it to cascade around her shoulders. “I’m freaking pissed that this—all of this—happened to Nick. And all of you. It’s so unfair. And that Jeremy’s in such danger. I mean, Beckett, if you could’ve seen that roof fall out from underneath him—” Her voice went thin and her eyes went bleak. She shook her head and visibly reined in her emotions. “If I hadn’t happened to drop in for a visit on Friday, I wouldn’t have known about any of it. Because Nick would’ve kept me in the dark. I mean, shit, I should almost thank Cole for jump—” She swallowed the words like she’d said more than she wanted, then threw up her hands and spun away, agitation rolling off her.
    Beckett frowned as his instincts jangled. What the hell had she been about to say? And why did her mention of another man’s name feel like such shit? “Who’s Cole?” he asked, watching her closely.
    She just shook her head.
    But, for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, the answer felt important. He crossed to where she’d paced and came up behind her. “Who’s Cole?”
    Waving a hand, she shook her head again. “Just a guy. Doesn’t matter.”
    The more she deflected, the more he was sure it did matter. Beckett replayed her words in his head and tried to make sense of them. I should almost thank Cole for jump— Jump? Jumping to conclusions? What?
    She