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Now, she was all business.
“Look, Hannah. You’re here because we have to protect you. But that doesn’t mean you’re part of the team or that I’m just going to loop you in to everything we have going on. You’re still a reporter, and I’m still never going to trust you.”
As he said the words, Will felt how harsh they were. Hannah’s eyes flickered at the declaration, and he pushed away the tendrils of regret that were trying to sneak in and weaken his resolve.
“I’m not doing this for a story, Will. I’m here, and I can help. And this man killed my president, too, not to mention he kindly offered me a seat next to a brick of C4. So if you think I’m going to do anything to jeopardize this mission, then you obviously don’t know me very well.”
“I thought we already established how little I know you,” he quipped back, unable to bite his tongue before delivering the pointed jab.
Hannah rolled her shoulders back. “That’s true. But here I am. You know all my secrets. You’ve got my laptop, my phone. There’s nothing I can do to spoil this operation. But I can help you. Use me to get this guy, Will. Dangle me in front of him until he comes out of his dark little hole.”
Will felt himself hesitate at her pleading. She had a point, and he couldn’t fault her courage for offering herself up like that. But the fact of the matter was that it was too risky.
As angry as his feelings were toward Hannah right now, he couldn’t justify putting her in danger for the sake of the mission. Throwing away the pasta had been a petty, stubborn show of his own refusal to build a connection. One he’d probably regret later when he was hungry.
“No,” he said. “We discussed this earlier. That is not an option,” he reiterated. “We’ve got Ryder and Jackson arriving in an hour to help with the next phase of the mission. Stephen’s running this photo through every facial recognition program we can access to see if we can track him down.”
He looked around at the rest of the team, studying their expressions. Four days on a mission didn’t seem like a lot, but this had been less organized and methodical than they were used to. Tank especially liked predictability. His guys still seemed focused and intent on finishing the mission.
“Go take a nap before the rest of the team arrives. Things are going to move quickly when we find him.”
Pierce and Tank headed down the hallway toward the bedrooms, leaving him alone in the living room with Hannah. Perhaps he should have reconsidered his directive.
“I meant what I said,” she said quietly.
He considered ignoring her entirely. He kept his eyes on the photo of Darkshade. “Which thing?” He hadn’t fully decided to respond when the question slipped out.
“About not being in this for the story.”
He turned to look at her, suddenly aware that he’d been avoiding doing so the entire time she’d been in the living room. Her eyes were rimmed with red, subtle enough that the others might not have noticed, but he’d spent enough time staring into and dreaming about those eyes that it was obvious straight away.
“I don’t believe you,” he said sadly, his eyebrows raising in a sort of shrug. “I wish I could.”
Hannah uncurled her legs from under herself and leaned toward him across the space between their chairs. “I wish you could, too. I’m sorry for the people who broke your trust. And I’m especially sorry that I was one of them. I’ll do whatever I can to help catch this guy. And if I need to promise not to write a single word about this experience in order for you to let me back in just a little bit, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Will schooled his features so his surprise didn’t show. “You’d agree not to write about it?” he asked, trying to clarify.
She nodded. “I think… I was wrong about why God brought me into this situation. I thought it was so I could have my big break. But now… I think he just wanted to show me what I was missing.”
Will was hanging on her every word. “And what’s that?”
“A family.” Hannah glanced around the small safe house with a wry smile, then down at her hands. “Ever since I left my mother behind, with Jeremiah rotting in a cell, I’ve been trying to convince myself and live as though I didn’t need anyone else.” She looked up at him, and Will’s heart tugged at the emotion in her eyes. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that connection until…”
Will tried to speak, but his throat was raspy and the words didn’t come. He swallowed and tried again. “Until what?”
“Until you cared,” she said with a shrug, pulling her arms across her body and hugging her elbows. It was as though she were trying to hold herself together. After a moment, she looked up at him again. “I know you don’t care anymore and that you can’t forgive me for hiding who I was. But you really opened my eyes, Will. So, thank you, I guess.”
Will didn’t move or react at all. But inside he was being ripped in two. He wanted to storm away, yell at Hannah that, of course, he couldn’t forgive her. He wanted to stew in his anger and let it steep and simmer until he forgot every memory of this mission and the waif he’d pulled from the rubble of a coffee shop with the most ridiculous name.
He also wanted to step closer, pull her into his arms and believe what she said. He wanted to brush back the strand of hair that fell across her face and promise that he’d be the connection and the family that she needed so desperately. To promise to provide for her. To make her smile in the way that seized his heart so fully.
The shadowed faces of regrets from his past seemed to mock him from over her shoulder, reminding him of when he’d trusted the wrong person—a reporter who would have done anything to make a splash on the nightly news. The woman and child who’d died because of it.
He wanted to forgive her. But he couldn’t.
He cleared his throat, a dozen different responses waiting and fighting to be spoken. He pushed them all aside.
Hannah might have learned her lesson, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
