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“There’s something else I want you to do for me. It’s something I’ve given a lot of thought to.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to research bipolar disorder as well as schizophrenia. Not for me. I want you to have a clear understanding so if we decide to make a go of this relationship, you know what kind of baggage I might be bringing along.”
Aine nodded again. She understood what he was asking her to do and why. If their situations were reversed, she’d like to think she’d suggest the same thing.
“I may do further research, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course it is. What kind?”
“Gene therapy. I won’t get into it now, but great strides are being made in that area with genetic mutations and variations.”
Griffin smiled.
“What?”
“Do you know how proud I am of you?”
“Me?” Aine felt her cheeks heat, and she looked away from him.
Griffin put his finger on her chin and turned her head back toward him. “That’s all on me.”
“What is?”
“You doubting yourself. I can’t tell how much I regret making you feel like you weren’t enough.”
She didn’t know what to say in response. In her mind, she still wasn’t, no matter what he said now. Griffin had so many more life experiences than she had.
“Remember earlier when you told me to stop thinking so hard about whatever it was that I had on my mind?” he asked.
Aine smiled. “Yes. You’re telling me to do the same thing.”
“I’m telling you to sleep.”
“I am pretty tired.” She snuggled into him and closed her eyes.
“Will you be okay on your own if I go next door for a few minutes?”
She opened her eyes and smiled. “Yes, dear.”
—:—
One side of his heart was smiling solely because of Aine, but the other was full of regret. Getting a ping from the aircraft without communication from its pilot or anyone else on board, meant they were likely dead.
This was his mission, and everything that took place in the course of it, was ultimately his responsibility. It had been his decision initially to send Tackle and Halo into Colombia, regardless of whether he pulled the trigger on it or not.
Who had was as big a mystery as he’d ever had to solve. It was obvious by Monk’s reaction that it wasn’t him. And since he hadn’t either, who in the hell had? Who would Onyx have listened to if it wasn’t him or one of the other K19 partners?
None of it made any sense.
“DEA have the coordinates of the plane. No one has gotten close yet due to the storm combined with the terrain,” Razor reported when Striker walked into the office.
Striker turned to Doc. “How soon can Cope arrange transport?”
“Do we know if we can even fly yet? What’s the st
atus of the hurricane?” Razor asked.
