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And also sucked his desire to tell her the truth. Because sometimes the truth was ugly—a bitter wind on a cold night, a shard of glass in soft sand.
But Anna wanted the truth, and he needed to give her a reason to trust him.
“She had formaldehyde in her lungs, Anna, which suggests the gunshot wound came at some point after she’d been put in the barrel,” Jackson said, choosing his words carefully. He’d thought about that horror every night before he closed his eyes. It was the thing that compelled him to take down men like Diaz, at the risk of his own life, with a similar death or worse. No one should have to suffer like Olivia had.
Anna frowned and Jackson continued. “The exact cause of death is not certain.., she either drowned, or the poison took her first.”
Anna’s eyes welled and she looked away. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Jackson didn’t know what to say either.
Eventually, she asked, “What would that have felt like?”
Jackson swallowed hard. “It depends. I pray she was unconscious and felt nothing. If she was conscious, it’s impossible to say. But ingesting formaldehyde like that would’ve been painful, probably like a fire burning through the body.”
Anna leaned forward, like Jackson had just punched her in the stomach. “Again, we don’t know if she was conscious.” He chose his words and delivered them gently, but the truth was the truth.
“I spent three years looking for her, and she was in a barrel hidden in a secret room of a warehouse that I’d spent hours in.” Her voice was thick with grief.
Without thinking, he took her hand. “That is not your fault, Anna. You could hardly have stripped apart the warehouse like we did. Diaz would’ve killed you for that.”
She nodded, but the truth didn’t seem to ease her pain. He squeezed her hand. “You’ve given three years of your life for her. It’s time to end this,” he said. “I promise you, I will do everything I can to make him pay and keep you safe. But I need to know I can trust you. I can’t sleep with one eye open and focus on my job. And if we fail, he’ll kill us both.”
She looked up at him through long lashes. His entire body hummed at a different frequency. Was it the danger of what they were doing? Or was it being so close to her, to a woman who was forbidden for so many reasons?
“When this is all done, what happens to me? If I don’t end up dead, I mean?” she asked pointedly.
“You get immunity from prosecution. You get to start over and live your life, Anna. Whatever that looks like.”
She was silent a moment, her eyes on their hands clasped together. “And what do you get?”
He shrugged. “Recognition, respect, a promotion, a raise... probably. But what matters more than any of that, is a few less families will have to go through what mine has. Putting Diaz away won’t solve the drug crisis in America, but it will be one less supplier we need to focus our efforts on. And I’ll sleep better at night. I’ll be proud of what I’ve done, while I pray for forgiveness for the things I might have to do to put Diaz away.”
She looked at him again. “You’ve said that twice tonight: pray. Do you believe in God?”
He blinked, forgetting they knew each other so little. “There is no doubt in my mind about God. It is the one thing I’m sure of.”
She looked at him like he was a unicorn. Then a small smile turned up the corner of her lips and she shook her head. “We couldn’t be more different. I’ve never been to church, nor was God’s name ever spoken in our house. I’ve never really thought about God. Don’t start preaching at me,” she said with a straight face.
Jackson bit his lip to trap the laughter that bubbled in his chest.
“What?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“I’m an agent, Anna, not a preacher. I have no intention of preaching at you,” he said, failing to keep a straight face.
“This amuses you?” she asked, with a hint of a smile.
“What else should it do?” he replied, a full grin beaming across his lips. In less than an hour they’d gone through the full range of emotions but the seesaw was finally tilted toward laughter and he wanted to keep it there. It was a better alternative to her pistol.
She chuckled. “How did we get on this?”
“You held a pistol to my back,” he reminded her, but he was still smiling. He squeezed her hand again. “You said we couldn’t be more different, but that’s not true. We both fight for the victim; we just go about it in different ways. That can change now... or it doesn’t have to. If you want to walk away from this deal, you can. If you tell me you don’t want to do this, I’ll respect that and I won’t make contact again. It’s your choice. You always have a choice,” he said, searching those ocean eyes.
It was her choice, but as he said the words, he prayed she didn’t walk away. It wouldn’t be good for his case—but more than that, he didn’t want her to.
She looked at him a long moment. “I’m in. The next time I have a question, I promise I’ll ask you before I point my weapon at you. I could’ve killed you in the shower, though; you realize that, right? I did give you some privacy,” she said.
His lips turned up. “Thank you so much, Anna,” he said, mockingly.
She cracked a grin and her eyes sparkled for the first time all evening.
