“Doing okay?”
“Yeah.” She hadn’t realized she’d stopped a few feet outside the door. Taking in the porch, she allowed him to escort her to the glider on the right. She took the seat on the side closest to the entrance of the house.
Liam sat on the other side of her. “Charlie Four, Charlie One.”
“Go ahead, Charlie One.”
“Eyes open. Advise of any changes in the wildlife.”
“Copy that.”
The guys in her ear flooded her with comfort. She’d missed being a part of their communication.
Liam shifted, dropping his gaze to her. “Let me know if it gets too much out here.”
“I will.” Steam rose from her mug as they sat in silence, listening to the birds. The air had a clean crispness compared to her home in Virginia. Her muscles eased.
“I realized something last night.” Liam leaned back and crossed his ankles.
“What’s that?” She glanced at him. The man appeared relaxed. But as the saying went, looks were deceiving.
His eyes roamed the property. “I don’t know your real name.”
She smiled behind her cup. She’d wondered when he’d ask. “That’s top secret.”
He flipped his gaze to her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” Jade snickered. She enjoyed the banter with him. Staying isolated the majority of her downtime didn’t lend itself to close friendships.
“I like this side of you.”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“When we are on missions, you’re friendly and nice. Even tease us from time to time. But the seriousness never fades. I’d like to get to know the real Raven.”
Could this man be any sweeter? “Jade,” she whispered.
“Excuse me?”
“My name is Jade. Jade Mitchell.”
“Well, Jade Mitchell, thank you for telling me.” Liam's eyes narrowed, and he scrunched his nose. “Nope. Sorry. Can’t do it. You’ll always be Raven to me.”
She chuckled. “I can live with that.”
“If it’s okay, I’d love to know the why behind your agoraphobia and…what’s it called? Noctiphobia?”
She nodded. “Yes, the fear of night or anxiety triggered by night is more accurate. For me, the theory is that it goes along with the agoraphobia.” Her mind drifted to the past. The night that changed her life.
“My father died serving our country when I was an infant. So, it was just mom and me after that. I don’t remember a lot about her since I was so young, but the night that changed my life is seared into my memory. When I was four, my mom collapsed on the edge of a parking lot outside a strip mall. It was nine o’clock. They think someone or something else scared me while I sat next to my dying mother. I have no memory of that. Only mom lying on the ground, not moving. That’s where they think the fear of night came from. That unknown that I’ll probably never recall. Anyway, one second, she was loading bags into the car, the next, Mom was on the ground, gasping for breath. I screamed for help, but no one heard me. For a little girl, the parking lot was huge and overwhelming. The vastness pressed down on me. The inability to escape the situation locked me in terror. My four-year-old self couldn’t make sense of anything. Or so my therapist explained. Time dragged by until someone noticed and called 911. When the ambulance finally arrived, Mom was gone. According to what the doctor told the social worker, Mom had an undiagnosed heart condition.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “It was. From that point on, I refused to leave the house. My foster parents tried, but I’d panic as soon as I walked outside. And at nighttime. I’d hide in my closet if the curtains were open in the house.”
“So, it’s not the dark?”
“Meh, not exactly. It plays a part in my fear. How could it not? But I don’t sleep with a light on. In fact, it drives me crazy.”
