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…had loved.
“What happened to van der Linden?” I asked.
“That’s classified.”
“After everything I’ve been through,” I snarled, “I think you can indulge me.”
“Let’s just say we couldn’t accomplish what we wanted you to do… so we had to pay out of pocket to get his wares off the market.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“Very,” he said with a touch of humor. “You were the far more economical option. That is, if you’d been able to pull it off.”
I stared at him with full-blown hatred.
I’d just lost the love of my life, and this fucker was making jokes.
When he saw my expression, Alistair hastily added, “I’m sorry it happened. Obviously, I wish it hadn’t. But I told you repeatedly about the dangers if you were caught. You agreed to the terms.”
For the first time since all this shit had started, I realized I was furious with him. Not just for his glibness – but because of the ease with which he brushed it off and made it all my fault.
Before that moment, I’d tried to be professional and rationalize it all away: I’m a soldier. I knew the risks. Shit happens.
I’d accepted that not proposing to Rachel was my fault and my fault alone.
But hearing Alistair talk was infuriating. He was a bureaucrat who’d probably never taken any real risks his entire life.
The night I’d gotten caught, he’d probably eaten at some fancy restaurant, bitched about a ‘tough day,’ and then gone home and slept like a baby.
And in that moment, I remembered another person –
Someone else who would have never let me rot away in jail.
Who would have done everything possible to get me out.
Who’d had my back in San Vittore through thick and thin…
And who had offered me a whole new life if I wanted it.
“If you’re looking for a job, it’s out of the question,” Alistair continued. “I could recommend you to some independent contractors – ”
“I don’t need a fucking job,” I snarled as I stood up.
Alistair looked slightly alarmed as I towered over him. He reached for his wallet. “I can’t authorize agency funds, but if you need some money, I could – ”
“I don’t need your fucking money, either.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“Like I said – to close the books.”
And, true to my word, I walked away…
And I never looked back.
Not at him…
Or the past…
