Page 64 of Carter

At the building, the plan immediately goes sideways. A security door that was supposed to be open has been chained from the inside, leaving only a narrow service window above a row of dumpsters. John and I can get an arm through. Neither of us can get a shoulder through.

Sasha’s voice comes quietly from behind us. “I can.” I whirl on her, ready to explode, but she points to the window. “You said no improvising. I am asking.”

John checks his watch. “Three minutes.” He looks at me. “Your call.”

Every protective instinct in me screams no. Every practical one knows she can do it. “In and out. You touch nothing except the release bar. The second I say back, you come back.”

Sasha slips through the window like water. Ninety seconds later the door clicks open from inside. She steps back out, breathing hard but grinning. “Useful?” John gives her a murderous look. “Do not make me compliment you while I’m angry.”

We get the package and make it home with minutes to spare. John transfers the tuition money before midnight.

Only then does he turn to Sasha. “You helped. You also stowed away on a criminal operation with no training and no permission. Both things can be true.”

Sasha lifts her chin. “So I was right that women can be useful.” John’s mouth flattens. Carter answers before his brother can. “Yes. You were right about your capability. You were wrong about believing capability gave you permission to gamble with everybody else’s plan.” She exhales, accepting the distinction even though I can see how badly she wants to argue with it.

Her grin disappears.

I take her upstairs. I am proud of what she could do and furious about how she chose to prove it. That combination is apparently going to be the story of loving Sasha Bachman for the rest of my life.

I tell her we will talk in the morning. I tell her I love her. She lies silent beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling as if she has finally realized that being useful does not automatically mean being accepted into every part of this world.

When I leave to finish the debrief with John, she is still awake.

When I come home, she is gone.

17

Sasha

The wedding is off. I’m on a flight to Greece. I’m moving back home with my parents.

I can’t breathe. Whenever I try to inhale, my chest aches so badly, tears burn in my eyes.

It’s over. And this time, it’s for good.

I’ve messed up. Royally. Like, Meghan Markle telling Kate Middleton that she should be the one to be the next queen and stealing the crown.

I can’t come back from this.

The look in John’s eyes when he saw me in the back of the van still makes me shudder. The tone in Carter’s voice when he spoke.

They hate me.

I can never be a Bachman wife.

I’m just not cut from the right cloth.

And I don’t want to keep putting Carter through my shit. It’s not fair to him. He should have a woman who knows her place. Stays at home where she’s safe, cooking casseroles.

I know how his brother really feels about me. I saw it in his face. If Carter and I were to tie the knot, and anything were to ever happen to Carter, John would have to live with the burden of caring for me.

I’d ruin his life.

And everyone knows how Bronson feels about me. He doesn’t even try to hide his disdain.

I have spent months learning not to confuse strength with getting my way. I have worked on my stubborn streak, my jealousy, and the ugly reflex that makes me attack when I feel unwanted.

Last night, lying in bed and waiting for Carter, I thought of how forgiving he was. I’d just made him look like a fool in front of his brother and you know what he did? Well, after he put that dreaded plug in me.