Page 27 of Stolen Salvation

“I’m sorry.”

Charlie shrugged, swallowing past the angry bees in her throat. “Instead of turning to him, I shut him out. I’ve never known pain like it. I felt like I was dying each and every day. It made me reckless and paranoid. I knew I couldn’t live if something happened to Noah, so when we got that case I threw myself into it. When Armand’s men made him and beat him almost to death, I knew they’d shoot him in front of me to try and prove my loyalty. I was undercover as Armand’s assistant. I’d worked every day for almost six months trying to take him down. There was a sniper on Noah when they threw him in front of us. I knew if I took the shot he had a chance to make it out somehow.”

“Noah didn’t want you staying in without him?”

Charlie shook her head. “No, he believes I should’ve broken cover and called in back-up.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Charlie swallowed not wanting to reveal too much of Noah’s past but knowing she needed to finish this confessional she found herself in. “Armand had an insider at MI5. They’d blown Noah’s cover but not mine. I needed to figure out why and who. If I’d called it in, we would never have known, and Noah would never have been safe.”

Charlie turned to Duchess. “You have to understand, I couldn’t lose anyone else. Noah alive and hating me was better than knowing he no longer breathed the same air as me.”

She saw sympathy on the other woman’s face. “Does he know?”

“No, I couldn’t tell him, or he would’ve gone scorched earth to protect me. After Freddie, he got so overprotective, and I hated it because it was my fault we lost him.”

“So you let him believe you chose the job over him and then divorced him?”

“I guess.”

Duchess jumped down and shook her head. “You should tell him. He deserves to know.”

Charlie shook her head. “And have him blame himself for that, too? No, I’d rather him hate me than feel guilty.”

“Listen, I don’t know you but I know Bishop. He still loves you and I think you feel the same.”

Charlie reared back in shock. “You’re kidding, he hates my guts.” She pointed at herself. “She-devil right here, remember?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think the kind of love you described to me dies that easy.”

“Oh, believe me, it doesn’t, but I’ve hurt him enough. I just want my sister safe so I can let Noah move on.”

“Well, that we can help with.”

Duchess smiled and it transformed her scary façade into a beauty that was almost blinding.

“What about you? Why are you in here pounding that bag in the middle of the night?”

Duchess waved a hand in the air. “This case I’ve been working for what seems like forever is driving me crazy and so is the man I have to work it with.”

“Oh?” Charlie waggled her eyebrows, feeling more relaxed now that she’d shared her deepest darkest secrets and survived.

“Not like that.”

Charlie grinned but she wasn’t so sure Duchess was being honest. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one with secrets that kept her awake at night.

Chapter 11

Bishop stepped back, turning as his back hit the wall of the hallway outside the gym. His legs felt numb as he listened to Charlie spill her guts to Duchess, admitting everything that she couldn’t say to him. His thoughts felt scattered as he shamelessly listened to her tell his friend why she’d shot him. A thousand feelings shot through him so fast he couldn’t process them.

As he heard movement in the room, he knew he couldn’t face Charlie right then, not with this new knowledge and not before he could process some of it at least. Walking quickly back to his apartment, he entered and leaned against the door, needing the support for his weak body. His chest felt tight, and he wondered if he was having a heart attack. Leaning forward with his hands on his knees, he dropped his head and tried to draw in air that felt hot and thick.

Jesus, he was having a damn panic attack. Closing his eyes, he fought to control his breathing. Smell the flowers, blow out the candles. Repeating the mantra his mother had taught him when he was younger and would wake from a nightmare.

He hadn’t thought of his adoptive parents in a long time, but now the woman who’d raised him with such love and compassion grounded him and allowed him to battle the blackness that had almost overwhelmed him.

He’d been edgy after he and Charlie had sex, his body craving more of her like a drug addict wanting his next fix. He’d known, or at least he should’ve known, that having her once would never be enough. She was in his blood, a part of him he couldn’t cut out like he did all the other painful things in his life. Her response to minimalize what they had shared cut him off at the knees. When she’d agreed they’d made a mistake, it was like being punched in the gut, rejection like ice water in his veins.