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Her eyes widened in shock. She took a step closer, boots sinking deep into the snow, feeling like she was drowning in mid-air. “What did you just say?”
Cal turned fully toward her now. His eyes were flat, the bright spark she’d fallen in love with almost gone.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you about my past sooner, before—”
“Before what?” Her voice rose, anger flooding hot through the hurt.
“Sage, I—”
“Before what?! Before I fell in love with you?”
The wind howled harder, whipping her hair across her face. Brutus shifted but stayed back.
Cal’s voice came out strange, forced, like he was choking down something abhorrent. “I’m sorry, Sage. I won’t let you throw your life away on—”
Sage screamed—raw, guttural—and ran straight at him. She slammed both gloved hands against his broad chest, shoving with everything she had. The impact barely moved him, but she kept hitting, palms stinging, tears flying.
“Go ahead! Finish that fucking sentence!”
“Sage, I—”
“I FUCKING DARE YOU!”
His eyes narrowed as he tried to step back from her ineffective blows to his chest and arms.
“Sage, you don’t understand—”
“Throw my life away? Throw it away?!”
She dropped to her knees in front of him, tears streaming. Her voice wailed out from deep inside. “I WAS GOING TO KILL MYSELF! Do you have any fucking idea how many times I was this close? You’ve seen the scars on my wrist! Throw my life away?”
He tried to step closer but she shoved him back, hands pressed to the frozen ground.
“I HAD NO LIFE TILL YOU! TILL YOU! CAN’T YOU SEE THAT?!” She sobbed.
Cal stepped back near the trees, voice rising. “Sage, you don’t understand. I’m trying to—”
“TRYING TO WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO? I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE! Can’t you see? Maybe you are a fucking coward! Too afraid to fight for us! Too afraid to trust me—”
The words detonated.
Cal snapped.
“You don’t understand! I’m a fucking killer! A KILLER! Do you have any idea how many souls I’ve taken? How much blood I’ve spilled?” His voice cracked like splitting timber, raw and enormous in the quiet woods.
“Cal, I—”
His voice rose above the storm, wind whipping furiously around him, “Not even in your WORST nightmares could you even BEGIN to understand the pain I’ve caused—”
He swung his arm wide — never toward her — and his huge fist connected with a young pine.
CRACK.
The trunk splintered with a gunshot sound. Wood exploded in white shards and green needles. The tree groaned and crashed sideways into the snow, branches whipping past her face. Sage flinched but didn’t retreat.
Cal didn’t notice the blood running down his knuckles. He was somewhere else. Eyes wild. Chest heaving.
“I killed a little girl,” he whispered, voice like death and despair. “I killed her. Not the CIA. Not the government. Not the mission. Me.” He looked at her desperately, blood dripping from his hands. “ME!! ME!!! I DID IT!!!”
