Read LEIF (Blake Security Book 3) for Free Online Page B

breathe. I took a bath and tried not to think about the file that was still where I’d put it earlier. My mind kept going back to my real Leif. I’d spent a lot of time over the past two weeks trying to decide what I should do. I thought about asking Mack for help. Besides being a lawyer, he is retired from the military. I knew if anyone would be able and willing to help me find out if Leif was really dead, he would. I didn’t want to believe it was true. I had no reason to believe it. The man that told me he was dead had lied about everything else, why should I believe that was the truth. I held onto a fantasy where I tracked him down and we had a tearful reunion. The only frightening part was the face on the man’s face and the sound of his voice belonged to the man that was at my door earlier today. All of the sweet words in my head were his. I honestly didn’t remember the real Leif very well—and this one had caused things to be all jumbled up in my head. 
    Once I finished my bath and made a cup of tea, I picked up my phone and saw that Sylvie had called. Sylvie and I have been best friends since high school. If I called her back, she’d know right away that something was wrong. I didn’t have the strength to get into it tonight. I hadn’t told her anything about the fake Leif. It was the first thing since we were teenagers that I’d withheld from her on purpose. I’d told her about the weekend with the real Leif when it happened…and I told her first when I found out I was pregnant, even before I told my mom. I guess I was afraid that once I told her that everything in those letters I’d read to her was a lie, then I’d have to accept it myself. A tiny little part of me had found a lot of differences in those sweet romantic words and the man that I remembered. The man I’d met in a bar that night was cocky and arrogant, and when he complimented me it was smooth and practiced. The guy that wrote the letters said sweet things, but mostly what he did that impressed me was that each time he wrote back to me he would address whatever I’d written to him about—be it a happy event, or something I was stressed or anxious about. Either he’d tell me not to worry and that it would be okay, or he’d offer to help. If he had any insights, he’d offer those, too. I felt like he was really listening to what I had to say, to things that I needed someone to listen to. The original Leif didn’t seem like the type that could come out of himself so easily, but I’d purposely ignored that. Now I have to wonder if somehow—all along—I’d known it wasn’t him.
    With a heavy sigh, I took my teacup into the living room, sat it down on the table, and went and got the file. I sat down with it and took a sip of my tea before I opened it. The first thing I saw was a photo of my original Leif in his uniform. My breath caught in my throat. He was so handsome, and my heart swelled as I realized just how much Hunter looked like him. I traced the lines of his face in the photo with my fingers and the anger toward this Leif returned with a vengeance. I finally forced myself to turn the page. This one said, Demographics. He was twenty-nine years old, Caucasian, brown hair, blue eyes, six foot two, and two hundred and five pounds. I was picturing him in the flesh, so tall and handsome that I hadn’t been able to resist him, when my eyes read further down the page. Under Marital Status it said, “Married.” Under Spouse, it said, “Linda Thompson.”  It was as if a brick was being slammed into the side of my head over and over. The son of a bitch was married. I felt sick…but I made myself read the rest of it. He had three children, all boys. My baby has brothers. Jesus. Does everyone lie these days? Is it worth all of that to get a woman into bed? The next page was even worse than that one. It held a copy of a death certificate. He was officially listed as deceased. He died from “Internal Injuries” sustained when the