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“He’s stable. I don’t anticipate anything happening soon but we need a plan in case I’m the one who needs to reach out to you. I might not be able to wait on you to call home. Can you please give me your handler’s information?”
She’s aware of the risk that poses. “Ellison, you know that’s not a good idea.”
“But what if something emergent happens and I need you? You aren’t checking in with him often. And if he declines, he isn’t going to tell you. I don’t want something bad to happen and then have to wait on your weekly call to tell you.”
I already feel like shit without her reminding me what a terrible daughter I am.
“He says this assignment is the most important op of your career and we can’t jeopardize that, but I need to tell you something, Bleu. I’m here alone with him and it’s not fair. I’m scared.” Her voice cracks. “I don’t want to be by myself if things go wrong.” I remember how bad it was with Mom. We had each other to lean on and it isn’t fair for me to leave all this on her shoulders.
Now I’m crying. “I just need a little more time and then I can come home.”
“Please, hurry. Get your job done and get here as soon as you can.”
Elli doesn’t understand what’s going on; she’s in the dark. She’s unaware I no longer work for the Bureau or that I’ve gone freelance. “I’m going to give you a cell number, but no name. It’s a safety measure.” I call off the contact number for Debra. “A woman will answer. When she does, you’ll tell her you’re having a problem with your account: alpha three one four delta seven nine.”
“Hang on. I’ll never remember that if I don’t write it down.”
Amazing. She has all that medical shit floating around in her brain but she can’t remember a series of numbers without writing it down for the wrong person to find. “Fine. Write it down on a single piece of paper using your palm to bear down on. No notepad where the impression can be seen. Once you memorize it, destroy the paper. No storing the number anywhere.” She says nothing and it’s because I know what she’s planning. She’ll put this in her phone in her notes. “I mean it, Elli. This is serious. Your head is the only place these numbers can be stored.”
“I got it, Bleu.” Smart-ass.
“Tell Dad I called and that I love him,” I say. “I’ll call again as soon as I’m able.”
“Please try to as soon as possible. He’ll be nuts because he didn’t get to talk to you.” She groans. “I dread telling him you called; he’s going to be pissed I didn’t wake him.”
“Blame it on me. Tell him I told you not to because I want him to get his rest. I’ll try tomorrow if I’m able to get away.”
I end the call before I completely lose it. By saying that, I don’t mean I just cry. I go nuts—cussing at the top of my lungs, kicking the couch, throwing myself onto the sofa and screaming into the cushion.
I feel strong arms circle me from behind and I’m pressed into the couch. “Stop fighting me.” It’s Sinclair’s voice next to my ear. “It’s okay, Bonny. It’s me. I’m the only one here with you. No one else.” My body relaxes, as does his.
He presses his lips to the bare skin of my back above my nightgown. “It’s just us—only me and you.”
“I’m sorry,” I cry. “So sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He gets up and I twist around. He sits on the sofa and pulls me onto his lap, looping his arm around my waist. “Tell me about it.”
I shrug. “Tell you what?” I ask, aware that it isn’t going to fly with him but it gives me a minute to think of a lie.
“What—or who—forces you to always be on the defensive, ready to fight without a moment’s notice?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
“Come on, Bleu. We’re beyond this.”
“Beyond what?”
“Lies.” He rubs his hand up and down my arm before kissing my shoulder. “You can always tell me the truth. Don’t you know that by now?”
I can’t. The truth will get me killed.
Sin’s left me no choice. He’s asking for an explanation about my constant defensive behavior and I have to say something. “I was attacked by a man when I was younger. I fought him off but I’ve never been able to put it behind me. It triggered something inside. I’ve had an irrational fear of being held down, among other things, since it happened.”
“Who did this to you? I’ll hunt him to the ends of the earth and choke the life out of him.” I almost believe he would, if it were anyone other than his own father.
“He was a neighbor,” I lie. “He died years ago.”
“Yet his aftermath lives on.” He puts his arms around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m happy you feel comfortable enough to share this with me. Thank you.”
I don’t reply because I’m not sure what to say.
“What triggered the episode you were having when I came in?”
How do I explain my come-apart so I don’t look like a total head case? Think. Think. Think. “I woke up and realized you were gone without saying goodbye. I tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t so I came to lie on the sofa. I must’ve dozed off because I was in the middle of a horrid nightmare when I awoke to your voice with you lying on top of my back.”
“Your peaceful sleep didn’t last long … but then it rarely does.” Just like that, he believes me. It seems a little too easy.
I extinguish one fire but another breaks out when I realize I don’t know where the burner phone landed during my fit of rage.
I wiggle in Sin’s lap so I can inconspicuously take a look around. It’s on the floor next to our feet. Shit. How am I going to keep him from seeing it?
A distraction—sex. It’s my only hope.
I run my nose up the length of his neck until my mouth is at his ear. “I’m peaceful when you’re lying next to me.” I lace my fingers through the hair at his nape. “And on top of me.” I suck his lobe into my mouth. “So … maybe you should take me back to bed and make me feel … safe.”
“Hmm.” He moves his hand up my leg until it reaches the crotch of my panties. “Maybe I will.”
I leave his lap and tug on his hands so he’ll stand with me. “Please?” I loop my arms over his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss while finding the phone with my foot and slowly pushing it beneath the sofa.
“This isn’t the reason I came home.”
“Then consider it an added bonus.”
* * *
I must be more careful. If Sin had come home two minutes earlier, he might have heard me on the phone with Ellison. That could’ve been disastrous.
“We need to talk about something.” Good news never follows someone saying that.
“Ahh … hence your reason for coming back?” I ask.
“Aye.” He pushes into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. “I met with my mother this morning.”
“Oh.” How odd. He rarely has anything to do wit
h her. “How did that come about?”
“I asked her to join me. I needed to discuss something personal and she’s the only person I felt I could confide in,” he explains.
“I see.” He chose to talk to a woman he hardly knows rather than me. That seems a setback for where I thought our relationship was.
He reaches out to stroke my hand and smiles. “It was about you, so I couldn’t very well ask you to meet me to discuss you.”
“What made me the topic of conversation?”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you about something.”
“That’s no shocker.” Laughter erupts from my mouth before I think to turn it off. “I’m sorry but you do remember that I’m aware of who and what you are?”
“The knowledge of you knowing more about me than anyone else in this world never escapes my thoughts,” he says.
“So what have you felt you needed to lie to me about?” I ask.
“It’s not a lie. But I may not have divulged all information about a particular situation. There’s a difference.”
“What is this about?” He looks so troubled. “I know you can’t tell me everything. It’s something I was resigned to when we began seeing one another. I won’t be angry with you.”
“That’s debatable,” he sighs. “There’s something I didn’t tell you about the man who attacked you a few weeks ago. He was one of ours—a brother of The Fellowship.”
I’ve always heard the phrase, “I felt the blood drain from my face,” but I never knew what that meant until this moment. “I killed a brother?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He reaches for my hand. “You didn’t know.”
The realization of my actions sinks in. “I don’t understand. It’s been weeks and nothing has come of it—not a single word said. What does that mean?” Oh God. They’re planning to come for me when I least expect it. That has to be it. They’re going to kill me for retribution. “I have to get out of here.”
Sin squeezes his hand around my wrist, his eyes locked with mine. “You’re not leaving.”
