Complicate Read online

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  Other Books by Pam Godwin

  Knotted Chapter 1

  Other Books by Pam Godwin

  About Pam Godwin

  The books in the DELIVER series are standalones,

  but they should be read in order.

  This is the final installment. Cole Hartman’s story.

  But it’s not his beginning.

  The story of Cole, Danni, and Trace starts in the TANGLED LIES trilogy.

  You don’t have to read TANGLED LIES, but if you want to read it, do so before reading this book.

  ONE IS A PROMISE (book 1) is free on all retailers.

  RECOMMENDED READING ORDER

  ONE IS A PROMISE (FREE)

  TWO IS A LIE

  THREE IS A WAR

  DELIVER (#1) (FREE)

  VANQUISH (#2)

  DISCLAIM (#3)

  DEVASTATE (#4)

  TAKE (#5)

  MANIPULATE (#6)

  UNSHACKLE (#7)

  DOMINATE (#8)

  COMPLICATE (#9)

  Southern Missouri

  Seven years ago

  Something was missing.

  Something significant. Troubling.

  Cole Hartman lowered his head to his hands, wrestling with the insidious sense of foreboding. Over the last seven months, it emerged without symptoms, invading gradually, subtly, but with detrimental effects.

  Dread was eating him alive.

  He sat on the floor in the armory of his safe house, his back to the wall, knees bent, and stomach clenched in knots. Down the hall, his beautiful, free-spirited dancer was likely practicing her choreographic sequences of the biggest production in the history of wedding dances.

  For as long as he’d known Danni, she’d fantasized about her wedding dance.

  Not the dress.

  The dance.

  Hers and his. Their first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Hartman.

  Over the past few months, she’d been teaching him the steps. Dancing was her thing, not his, but he didn’t mind learning. Hell, rubbing up against her hot little body would never be a hardship. He fucking loved her. So goddamn much it hurt.

  But something was missing.

  Four years ago, he’d left her to complete a one-year, undercover assignment overseas. They’d only been together for ten months at the time. He shouldn’t have gone. He didn’t know that year would turn into several more.

  Without her knowledge, he’d left her under the protection of his best friend, Trace Savoy. In doing so, he’d inadvertently fucked his fate and shoved his entire world into Trace’s arms.

  After botching the mission, faking his death, losing Danni to his best friend, and finally, finally winning her back, he’d crawled out of hell, alive and victorious.

  He’d chosen his job over her, and in the end, she chose him over all else.

  His decisions had destroyed her life, and in return, she gave him her heart. Again.

  The shattered pieces of his miserable existence had been put back together. He didn’t deserve her, but when he’d returned from the dead, he put every ounce of life into earning her forgiveness.

  He’d fought countless battles through his clandestine career, but seven months ago, he won the only war that mattered.

  He won back his dancer.

  Fair and square.

  She let Trace go.

  She chose me.

  But something was missing.

  The depressing lyrics of James Bay’s Let It Go trickled through the armory. Racks of guns covered one wall, the rest occupied by file cabinets, desks, computers, phones, and high-tech gear. The kind of equipment that didn’t exist outside of his classified unit.

  In the corner, her wedding gown hung on a hook. It didn’t belong in here. Not in a room crammed with weapons, secrets, and deception.

  When he’d taken the dress during their separation, he wanted it in a safe place. He longed to see her wear it as she walked down the aisle, toward him, toward their future together.

  Nothing stood in their way now. She’d chosen him. Agreed to marry him. Everything was right in the world.

  Except it wasn’t.

  The soft tread of footsteps approached from the hallway and paused on the threshold.

  His pulse quickened as it always did when she was near. His entire being pulled toward her as she entered the room. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, his senses alert, tracking her graceful movements as she floated past his shadowed position on the floor near the door.

  She took in the space, lingering on the wall of firearms. This was her first glimpse behind the armory door. He always kept the room locked. Kept her out. She shouldn’t be here. Her spirit was too bright, too gentle amid the guns and dangerous evidence of his business.

  As if realizing that, she quickly turned back to the door and paused, startled, her gaze fastened on him. Then she smiled.

  The first smile she’d ever given him had been life-altering. She’d stepped in front of his motorcycle at the crack of dawn, wearing almost nothing. Except her smile. It’d been so big and full of life, it softened his insides, turned his brain to butter, and made him weak.

  He didn’t regret a second of it.

  No man with a pulse could regret her. Danni Angelo was a blonde bombshell with a compassionate soul. Beautiful inside and out.

  Grey eyes, fair complexion, she glowed with light and stunning sensuality. Her lithe limbs and athletic physique befit her occupation as a professional dancer. But it was her smile that stole the show. And broke hearts. His heart, specifically.

  She’d broken him as much as he’d broken her. Crushed. Mended. And soon to be demolished again. He felt it looming—the pain, the devastation, the inevitability of forever’s antonym.

  Never was coming for him.

  Because something was missing.

  It was missing in the smile she wore now. Her bowed lips curved like they always had. Her eyes illuminated with angelic beauty. But it wasn’t a Danni smile. Not the one that had railroaded him the day they met. Definitely not the one that tilted the universe and knocked him off his feet.

  It lacked the energy that made his heart rev. It didn’t crackle the air and charge his blood. It was low on sunshine, devoid of music, and desperately in need of life.

  Her smile cried out for happiness.

  There was no contentment in it. No tranquility. No delirium. Had she been without those things all along?

  They’d been inseparable for months, staying here at his lakefront estate, reconnecting, dancing, fucking, focusing on their relationship, and planning their future. They were wrapped up together. On top of the world.

  But no amount of planning or intimacy could erase the gaping hole in her heart.

  The hole that had been left by another man.

  He didn’t want to notice it. Didn’t want to think about it, talk about it, or do anything to make it real. So he’d ignored it. For seven months, he pretended there wasn’t something missing.

  They were in love and finally back together, all the while pretending she didn’t still love Trace.

  It was a p
oint of contention that couldn’t be resolved with words or time. Ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. He knew that. They both knew.

  It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t asked for this. He and Trace had wedged her into a miserable love triangle. Then they’d forced her into a decision.

  Choose.

  So she had.

  Her decision ruined Trace, sentencing him to a life without her.

  Her decision left a guilt-ridden hole in her heart.

  Her decision yielded only one winner, and he couldn’t rejoice in that. But if he was strong enough, he could fix it.

  She’d lost him once, and yeah, it had wrecked her. But she’d found happiness again. In his absence, she’d fallen in love again.

  The same couldn’t be said this time around. She was surviving without Trace, but she wasn’t living.

  This had everything to do with who she was, not who she chose. The woman he’d shared space with for the last seven months wasn’t the Danni he knew.

  She’d lost her luster, her vivacity, her effervescent rhythm. His carefree dancer was miserable.

  Because love wasn’t a choice.

  He dangled his arms over his bent knees and leaned his head back against the wall, watching her, memorizing her delicate features, while slowly, painfully, preparing for a decision that would decimate him on a fundamental level.

  “I thought you retired.” She glanced at the tables of charging phones and running laptops. “What is this?”

  “I am retired. I only come in here to check my messages.” He gave the devices a thoughtful look. “I get a lot of job offers.”

  “Job offers?” She closed the distance and lowered to the floor beside him, mirroring his pose. “What kind of jobs?”

  “The kind that paid for this house. The dangerous kind that send me out of the country for months. Sometimes years.”

  He missed the work, the challenge in it. The danger. But he gave it all up for her and would gladly continue to do so…if she was happy.

  She tensed. “Are you considering—?”

  “I would never consider a job away from you.” He gathered her beneath his arm and breathed in the unique Nag Champa scent of her hair.

  Curling up against his side, she rested her head on his shoulder and hummed. Her fingers stroked his arm. Her silence tried to invoke comfort. All of it felt forced, but not. Tense, but also tender. She was straining for the happiness they’d once shared. And failing to grab hold of it.

  Let It Go played again, strumming the air with the glaring truth. The lyrics bemoaned a relationship that was destined to end, no matter how badly two people held on. He’d selected it without thinking, his subconscious sending him a message.

  “This song is so sad.” She ran a finger along the line of his rigid jaw, unable to coax him to relax. “Why are you listening to it?”

  “I know what you’re doing,” he murmured, his insides sick with unease.

  She dropped her hand.

  “You’re trying so hard to make this work.” His voice cracked. “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”

  She flinched. “No—”

  “He’s not physically here, but he’s here nonetheless, always between us.” He met her eyes with a hard stare. “You’re settling.”

  “Damn right, I’m settling.” She fisted her hands. “I’m settling into a beautiful life with a man who takes my breath away. I chose you, Cole. I’m with you.”

  “Someone told me once that love isn’t a choice.”

  Christ, this hurt. Unlike the bullet that had struck his chest, Danni would leave a lasting, open wound.

  “Why do you think I wanted you to wait six months?” He touched her trembling fingers, caressing her engagement band. “I didn’t want you to choose. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to rise inside you and become the beat of your heart.” He softened his voice, dying inside. “The most decisive actions are the ones with the least consideration.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “The day you forced yourself to decide, I knew. When Trace walked out that door, I saw it in your eyes.” He forced resolve into his expression. “You voiced a decision your heart wasn’t ready to make.”

  Her face turned to stone. But beneath the anger, he glimpsed concession. She knew he was right.

  “I’ve watched you fight an inner battle for seven months.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’re fighting a war with your heart.”

  Creases of pain etched around her mouth. “If that’s the case, why did I choose you?”

  “I was your first. The logical choice. But the heart isn’t logical. Sometimes, we don’t know what we want until it’s gone.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” In her usual stubborn fashion, she climbed onto his lap and steeled her voice. “I love you.

  “I know you do.” He pulled her against him and tucked her head beneath his chin. “But you love him more.”

  She sank her fingernails into his shoulders, clutching fiercely, holding on, fighting against the inevitable.

  For a moment, he fought alongside her. They belonged together. He could work through this, love her hard, harder than any man ever could, and fill the void Trace left behind. There had been a time when he was all she needed.

  Until he ruined it.

  Agony rose without warning, scraping jagged shards through his throat.

  The damage couldn’t be undone. He’d left her, let her believe he was dead, and lost her to another man.

  Hot prickles stabbed the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe.

  He’d ruined them.

  Dammit, he just wanted her to be happy, and it wasn’t fair to either of them to go on pretending. He’d rather be the one with the gutted heart. Instead of fighting for her, he’d rather fight for her wellbeing and take vicarious contentment in that. This wasn’t him being a martyr. He simply couldn’t find a better way.

  He had to let fate play out. Let her go back to Trace. Let her go.

  Let it all go.

  His vision swarmed with tears. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t release the air in his lungs, but he couldn’t hide his anguish from her.

  She leaned back and whimpered at the sight of his tears.

  “Don’t make that face.” A sob escaped her as she frantically dried his cheeks with her hands. “Don’t give up on me.”

  “I lost you, baby. I lost you the morning I got into that cab and left you crying on the porch.” He hauled her against him, his embrace constricting and his mouth at her ear. “I’m not giving up. I’m letting you go.”

  She shattered in his arms, sucking choppy gulps of air. He clung to her, and she clung back, gripping, weeping. He held her through it, crying with her as she came to terms with reality.

  Years of friendship, love, and dreams for the future spooled out around them. She would still have those things. Just not with him.

  He would never love again. Never find another Danni. He couldn’t even fathom it. She was his soul mate.

  For endless minutes, they sat in the sadness, deep in their own thoughts, until the tears stopped. Too soon, she raised her head and cupped his face, wearing a look of devastating finality. He wiped away her tears as she dried his.

  “No more crying tonight.” He kissed her lips, softly lingering.

  No words were exchanged as he carried her into the bedroom. No second thoughts were voiced as they undressed. No tears fell as he entered her body for the last time.

  They’d been here before. Four years ago, he made love to her and left her. But this time, he wasn’t leaving for a job. He was leaving for her, and he wouldn’t be returning. This time, he stared into her eyes, fucked her achingly slow, and wordlessly said good-bye forever.

  After, she lay beside him, studying his face, seemingly dazed. She always admired his looks. Her attraction to him had never been in question. Neither had her love.

  The woman loved with her entire being. That was the problem.
She loved big enough and deep enough to bind her soul to two men.

  “I’m grateful I had you to myself for seven months.” He pushed a blonde lock behind her ear.

  “I’m grateful for every breath, every dance, every memory you gave me.”

  Sharp, incendiary pain lashed through him, leaching the strength from his body. Fire burned in his chest, searing his breaths and watering his eyes. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let her go.

  He wanted to sink into her again and lose himself in her precious warmth. But if he did that, if he stayed the night, he would stay forever. His fragile resolve was splintering. He needed to go.

  So he pulled away. Not physically. Not yet. But he pulled his gaze away from her beguiling beauty. He pulled his emotions away from the surface and shoved it all down, growing cold and rigid in the effort.

  She seemed to sense his detachment and went still beside him, silent and accepting. There would be no more fighting from her. She knew the score. She would grieve and move on.

  Trace was waiting. His best friend would wait for her forever.

  As her breathing drifted into the rhythm of sleep, he touched his lips to her forehead one last time.

  I love you, Danni Angelo. Be happy.

  Without waking her, he slipped the engagement ring from her finger. She didn’t need it anymore, but he did. Christ, he needed every memory of her he could carry.

  The tightening in his chest was unbearable, his insides hemorrhaging. He pushed through it and pulled away from her sleeping form.

  She had Trace, and Cole had enough job offers to keep him distracted for years. He could do this. He had no choice.

  In the dark, he slipped out of bed.

  Then he slipped out of her life.

  Chihuahuan Desert, West Texas

  Present Day

  “Ready?” A thrill coursed through Cole as he met Rylee’s eyes.

  Huge, silver-grey eyes.

  Just like Danni’s.

  Sometimes, it was difficult to hold that stunning stare, for it conjured echoes and aches of the one he let go.

  He looked away, directing his attention to the kitchen table, which gleamed in an array of guns, ammo, and other weaponry. Amid the gear lay the high-tech GSM bug he’d pulled from Rylee’s house.