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AJ nodded. “Let’s see how the exam goes first. Give her a break, man. She’s been through hell today.”
“You don’t look so hot yourself.”
AJ steered me away from the jet. “I’ll give you a call later, Agent Canson.”
I finally let my shoulders relax. “Thank you. I didn’t want to do any of that. Reliving today isn’t something I think I ever want to do. I don’t want to give a statement.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not something I can shield you from for long. The FBI needs you to answer questions. They are going to want a full debrief.”
“But you were there,” I argued. “You can answer any questions they have for me. Please, AJ.”
I wasn’t prepared for the sun when we left the shadows of the hangar. I squinted at the brightness even though the sun was setting behind the airport.
“You know it doesn’t work like that. They need your statement. They have mine.” He stopped in front of a black car. “They want to talk to you about Project Compass. Your observation period is over. They want you on the team. You’ll be safe now.”
“I never said I’d join.”
“Why wouldn’t you? Jelly Bean Jack? That mad man is out there plotting some other fucked up crime. You might be the only person who can take him down.”
I sighed. “I can’t think about him. Or any of them. I just want to go home. Is that ok for now?”
“Hospital and then home. We have an agreement.”
“We do,” I caved.
He opened the car door for me and I slid in. After a day of being shoved, beaten, and knocked unconscious on metal stairs the leather seats felt like I was sitting on a cloud. AJ sat next to me, but pulled me against him in the backseat. It didn’t matter how sore we were. How badly we were cut or broken. We just wanted to be next to each other. To hold each other.
The driver started the car. “I’m taking you to the nearest facility, Agent Hart?”
He stroked my hair. “Yes.”
“I know the one.”
We pulled away from the hangar and within minutes I fell asleep in AJ’s lap.
Chapter Thirty-Two
We looked like we had survived a car accident. Rather than walking away from mangled metal and shredded tires we had escaped a brutal kidnapping. A kidnapping that had to remain classified. There would be no front-page articles or news reports scrolling across the screen.
The passengers aboard Flight 552 were oblivious to how closely they had come to losing the game they played as pawns. It would stay that way. In a strange way, I was grateful. I would be able to keep my anonymity.
AJ’s chest was wrapped tightly, making it hard for him to take full breaths and his forehead bandaged over his eye. I had gauze taped to my ankles where the cuts were the deepest. The hospital had given us white T-shirts. Mine was bulky, but surprisingly soft. They were paired with scrub pants.
My test results came back negative for a concussion. The doctor prescribed ibuprofen and rest for the headache. I realized when the doctors didn’t harass us with questions about how we sustained our injuries, there was a reason AJ had chosen this hospital.
We walked out of the hospital. There was a rock garden fountain at the entrance. The water bubbled.
AJ’s hand found mine. I wasn’t sure if we were afraid to ask the question. Instead, we operated in our old familiarity. The pull and tug. The give and take. I didn’t want to have to think. I didn’t want to have to say yes or no. I wanted to be in a world again where there was no question that we would wake up together. A world where AJ would make my coffee in the morning. A world where the hurt was gone. The lies were over. Where we basked in the truth we gave each other.
“Syd, I—” He turned to face me on the sidewalk.
I bowed my head. “Can tonight be—”
“It can be whatever you want it to be. After today, it’s whatever you want.”
“Will you take me home?” I looked in his midnight eyes.
“Of course.”
