15
Clark took one look at the door and made a beeline for it, yanking it open and pulling me into his arms.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Please tell me you did not do what I think you just did.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
I hugged him hard. I’d missed him, missed his sarcastic sense of humor and cynical worldview. He was a lot like my dad—Danvers—come to think about it. Speaking of which . . .
I pulled away and turned. “Clark, this is Mark Danvers. Mark, this is—”
Clark slammed his fist into Mark’s jaw.
“Oh my God! What are you doing?” I sprang between them, though it didn’t look as though a fight was forthcoming. Mark was eyeing Clark warily, one hand rubbing his jaw. Clark was glaring at Mark with venom in his gaze, but didn’t look like he was going to hit him again. “What the hell, Clark?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, he’s the reason my brother was left behind in that hellhole for six years,” Clark reminded me. He looked back at Mark. “Operation Gemini, remember?”
Mark nodded. “The information we got out of there helped us bring down Gaddafi. And helped the Israelis set Iran’s nuke program back a decade.”
“Good men lost their lives.”
“Good men always do.”
“Clark, who are you—” Jackson walked in the room. He stopped short when he saw me.
All the loneliness and despair I’d been fighting since I’d left rose up inside me. I’d been so stupid. My mom had been right. Some things only come along once in a lifetime, and I’d almost missed it. It might still be too late.
Jackson’s expression had registered surprise, then relief. Now it was a politely blank mask. I was familiar with that mask. I often donned it as well. It was the I’m-really-not-hurting-I-swear mask.
I walked over to where he still stood, tipping my head back to look him in the eye. His gaze ran hungrily over my face before settling on my eyes.
“Is it too late?” I asked quietly. “Have I lost you?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. “You can never lose me.”
He picked me up in his arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck, not minding the crushing hold he had on me. He buried his face in my neck, and I felt his chest hitch against mine.
“Don’t leave me again,” he whispered.
“I won’t. I promise.”
I would have gladly stayed like that forever, but then he spotted Danvers. Carefully setting me aside, he approached him. I braced myself to witness another punch, but he didn’t.
“Do you remember me?” Jackson asked stiffly.
“Should I?”
“You held a gun to my head and made me blow the cover on those men.”
Understanding dawned on Danvers. “Oh, you were that computer geek, right?”
“Am that computer geek,” Jackson corrected.
“And China’s with you? That sounds like a good match. And you’re rich, right? I’ve seen you before, on magazine covers. The tech billionaire.” He looked from Jackson to me, then back. “If you’re asking permission to marry my daughter, permission granted. Take care of her the way she deserves. Get her out of this dangerous shit.”
Before Jackson could respond, there was a sharp rap on the door. Before anyone could move, it was flung open.
A loud explosion. Blasting my eardrums and blinding me. Jackson dropped to the floor, covering my body with his. I strained to see, my vision still recovering. I could feel vibrations of feet on the floor. People were in the room.
The smoke cleared. Men with guns were taking my dad.
“No!” I pushed at Jackson, struggling to get up. “You can’t take him!”
I was on my feet and rushed toward my dad, but Jackson caught me up in his arms. I fought him, yelling at the men.
“Stop! You don’t have the authority to take him!”
They ignored me. Then through the uniformed men, I saw Kade. “You!” He glanced over, one dark eyebrow raised. “You lied to me.”
He sauntered over. “I never lied to you. I ran across an opportunity for Danvers to redeem himself for his sins.”
“What is it?”
“Well, his old buddies, the Chinese, are holding some Americans prisoner. A missionary and his family. Wife and three kids. Since they have a real ax to grind with your dad, we offered a trade.”
“You can’t do that,” I said.
“Well, it’s his decision, and if he has any soul left, he’ll cooperate.” He headed for the door.
“At least tell me where you’re taking him so I can say goodbye,” I called after him.
Kade turned around, considered, and said, “Alvin Callender Field. Oh-seven-hundred.” His brow furrowed as he saw Jackson’s arms wrapped around my waist. “So it’s him, then, huh? I would’ve thought it’d go the other way.” Then he was gone, along with the soldiers and Danvers.
“Oh my God. What am I going to do? I can’t let him get sent to China.” I glanced from Jackson to Clark.
“Don’t look at me,” Clark said. “I’m all for him getting sent to China. Or me killing him.”
“No, you don’t understand. He told me what happened.” I explained everything he’d told me about his asset, Chen, and the child-trafficking ring. When I was finished, Jackson looked stunned. Clark, stricken.
“That’s horrible,” Jackson said, combing his fingers through my ponytail. “Are you okay?”
I shrugged and nodded. “It’s awful, yes, but actually better than thinking he’d never loved her. I’m glad I know the truth. But I don’t want to lose him now that I’ve found him. I know it sounds strange, but he’s the only parent I have left.”
“I’m not helping you save him.” Clark’s voice was hard. “He sent my brother to a fate worse than death, I don’t give a shit about his reasons.”
“I can’t do it without you,” I said.
“Then that’s too bad.”
I was angry. “After all you’ve done, this is where you draw the line? On helping my father? Your brother tried to kill me. Twice.”
Clark flinched.
“China—” Jackson began.
“No.” I cut him off. “This is between me and Clark.”
“We’ll negotiate,” he persisted. “No one needs to get shot.”
“I’m not talking about shooting anyone. But if we need to threaten force, Clark’s our best bet.” I couldn’t let the love of my mother’s life be taken and likely killed.
“What am I supposed to do? Take Danvers hostage?”
I looked at him.
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’m out, Mack.” His gaze went from me to Jackson and back. “I’m out of all of it.” He headed for the desk and began holstering his weapons that were sitting on the wood veneer.
“Give me a minute with him,” I said to Jackson.
“Don’t push it, China,” he warned me. “I don’t want you to regret it.” But he still headed into the next room.
I watched Clark for a moment. “Is this your way of getting back at me?” I asked finally.
He finished checking the magazine for his weapon, rammed it home, and slid it into the back of his jeans. He tugged his shirt down over it and turned around. His eyes were as cold as I’d ever seen them.
“You’re making this personal,” he said.
“You did it first,” I shot back. “It’s personal why you won’t help Danvers. Maybe it’s not just because of the past, but also because of the present.”
“Because you chose Jackson?” He shrugged. “It is what it is. Life goes on.”
It was as though the Clark I’d known in my bed had disappeared, replaced by the man I’d first met months ago. It was physically painful to see him so withdrawn and guarded with me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so, so sorry. I love you, but I’m in love with Jackson. Being away from both of you made it clear to me who I can’t live without. But I don’t want to lose you. You’re my friend. I—”
“Stop talking.” His voice was sharp. I shut up. “Don’t say anything else, Mack. In this case, more words only make it worse. Not better.”
It was only with the greatest amount of self-control that I didn’t take it all back. I hated seeing the Clark I knew be buried again. Would he remain there forever? Never again to see the light of day?
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I don’t blame you. I’m not a risk worth taking, trust me.”
“That’s not—”
“Shh.” He reached out, one finger stroking my cheek. His eyes reminded me of Danvers’s—full of pain. Leaning down, he slid my glasses off, then pressed his lips to mine.
It was a sweet kiss, even more heartbreaking for knowing it would be our last. He was leaving. I knew it.
When he lifted his head, tears were rolling down my cheeks. He looked pained.
“Please don’t,” he whispered. “That’s not how I want to remember you.”
I made a valiant effort, swiping my eyes with the back of my hands. I sniffed, an indelicate snort in the silence. But it made Clark’s lips curve upward ever so slightly. He slid my glasses back on.
“Stay safe. Be happy. Don’t take any shit from Coop.”
I nodded, unable to speak. I watched him grab his leather jacket as he headed for the door. He paused and looked back once. I opened my mouth to beg him to come back, but it was too late. The door slammed shut behind him, and he was gone.
My knees gave out and I crumpled to the floor, sitting down hard on my ass. I stared at the door, expecting . . . I didn’t know what. That he’d come back? Stroll in, flash a cocky grin, and say, “I got you good, Mack.”
Jackson crouched down next to me. “Hey, babe.” He gently grasped my chin and turned me toward him. Our eyes met. “It’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do.” He took my hand and drew me to my feet.
“What are we going to do?” I asked. “I have money. All that money. Do you think they’d take it instead?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll try. Have you eaten anything today?”
I thought about it and glanced at my watch. It was after nine o’clock. “I can’t remember.” It hardly seemed like the same day, so much had happened. “I don’t even know what day of the week it is.”
“Now I know you’ve been living under a rock,” he teased. “Why don’t you go take a bath? I’ll order room service. You need rest, too.”
I was too tired—physically and emotionally—to argue. The bathtub was a porcelain, dual, old-fashioned, clawfoot slipper tub, and it was so deep, it took more than ten minutes to fill. But as I sank into the steaming water, I decided the wait had been worth it.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and Jackson came in. “Dinner’s here,” he said. “But it’ll stay hot for a while.” He backed out, but I called him.
“Care to join me?” I asked. “I’ve missed you.”
He stripped and stepped into the tub. I turned around so I could lie between his legs and rest my back against his chest.
“How’d you two know where I was?” I asked.
“Clark’s had people looking for you. He found you a few days ago. My people had found Danvers and saw when he caught a flight here.”
I nodded. Neither development surprised me. It felt good to be in Jackson’s arms again, and I took his arms and wrapped them around me. I could feel what the position was doing to him against my back. I closed my eyes, blocking out everything else except us. The feel of him, his strength surrounding me. He’d been steadfast, despite everything. He still loved me, and I’d nearly thrown it away.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For what?” His voice in my ear sent a shiver through me.
“For waiting. For not giving up on me.”
In response, he held me tighter. I appreciated that despite his obvious arousal, he wasn’t trying to move things along. Social convention probably said that this would be a tasteless time to be intimate with someone.
I never was one for following social convention, even in the situations where I could decipher what it was.
I turned in his arms, careful of where I put my knees, and straddled his thighs. His cock lay between my legs, hard and ready. He was watching my eyes, taking a moment to brush back stray tendrils of damp hair loosened from my ponytail.
“I love you,” I said.
His smile was brilliant. “What a coincidence, because I love you, too.”
I positioned myself over him and slid down, letting his length slowly fill me. Our gazes were locked. When he was fully inside, I let out a gasp.
It didn’t take long. We’d been apart for too many weeks for our first time back together to last longer than a few minutes. But I wasn’t complaining.
Afterward, I rested, curled on his lap. The water was growing cold. Before I knew it, Jackson had stood and lifted me with him. I clung to his neck, curling as close as I could, the cold air giving me goose bumps.
Not just towels, but bath sheets. Jackson wrapped one around me and deposited me on the bed. I admired the view as he went to get himself a towel, then he set the room-service tray on the bed and climbed in with me.
I was ravenous. “What did you order?”
“A few different things,” he said. “I wasn’t sure where you were in your schedule.”
Pizza, Chinese, pancakes, and roasted chicken. Dessert was Fig Newtons and a pot of hot tea. My eyes watered at his thoughtfulness.
“Thank you,” I managed, leaning over to kiss him. His jaw was slightly roughened with whiskers, and I lingered over the kiss. It had been too long.
“How are you doing?” he asked, once we’d demolished a significant portion of the food.
I shrugged. “I’m okay. Better now.” I sent him a small smile. “I want to go in the morning and see if there’s anything I can do. I’m . . . sad . . . that Clark is gone. But I know it was probably for the best. Three’s a crowd, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the loss.”
I couldn’t look at him, but he lightly gripped my chin and turned my gaze his way.
“I understand,” he said. “I get it. You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
I had to blink several times, but I nodded. “Thank you.”
When we were finished eating, Jackson set the alarm and we curled up together under the sheets. I felt at peace—at home—for the first time since I’d had to leave my apartment. It occurred to me before I drifted off that the comfort of normalcy and familiarity wasn’t just about being with my things, but being with my someone.
The sun was up, and it was already hot enough to make me sweat as we drove to the military airbase. It wasn’t far, and when Jackson gave our names at the gate, we received an escort to a distant hangar by the farthest runway.
Kade was there when we parked and got out of the car.
“Where’s the Reject?” he asked.
I gave him a withering look. “Clark had to leave. And don’t call him that.”
His lips twisted. “I expected you to go for the bad boy. Look at you, defying the cliché.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Now where’s my father?”
“He’s inside. This way.”
We started following him toward the hangar.
“I didn’t realize US policy now consisted of trading our citizens to hostile countries to be killed,” Jackson said, his tone one of casual inquiry.
“Danvers is an enemy of the state,” Kade replied. “If he stays, he’ll be tried for treason. Might as well get some use out of him.”
Jackson nudged me and I stopped the retort on the tip of my tongue.
Inside the hangar, there were only a handful of people. The armed soldiers were gone, and only a few nondescript men in suits remained. Danvers was sitting alone, arms handcuffed behind his back. Kade led us to him.
“We’re fresh out of Kleenex,” Kade said, “so don’t get weepy.”
“You’re really an asshole, you know that?” I snapped.
“So I’ve been told.” He walked away.
“He’s not wrong,” Danvers said. “I stole that money so it wouldn’t end up in Chinese hands. I defied orders.”
“I don’t care. I’m not letting you be taken into Chinese custody.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Just let it go. The family I’m being traded for deserves to come back. I’ll take what’s coming to me.”
“We’re going to offer the money,” Jackson said. “In exchange.”
“Hell, no,” Danvers said. “You’re going to undo what I did? I don’t think so. Don’t offer them a dime of that money.”
“But—” I began.
“I mean it.” It was the hard voice of authority.
I pressed my lips together. I felt powerless. I’d just found my father, and they were going to take him from me.
“I can’t do this,” I muttered, spinning on my heel and rushing away. I couldn’t say goodbye. Spying Kade, I aimed for him.
“Please. Don’t do this,” I said once I’d reached him. He was sipping black coffee from a Styrofoam cup. “I want to offer them something else.”
“What have you got?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
I took a deep breath. “Me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m the one responsible for blowing up their installation in the South China Sea. They’d want me, more than Danvers, I’m guessing. What do you say?”
“You’d do that? Offer to take his place? This man you just met. The man responsible for the death of your mother. Just so we’re clear.”
“Yes. My mother was in love with him. She wouldn’t want him to die like that.”
“She wouldn’t want you to die like that,” Kade retorted. “Nice try and a laudable effort, but no. I’m not handing you over to the fucking Chinese.” He glanced at his watch. “Showtime.”
He motioned to the only guard, who got Danvers up and moving. Jackson joined me and took my hand. I clutched it like a lifeline.
A small private jet sat outside. Two Chinese men emerged, followed by the family. The father was carrying the smallest child, who couldn’t have been more than two. The mother looked wan and exhausted as she led the other two children by the hand. One was clutching a well-loved rabbit. When they reached the ground, one of the men stepped forward to meet Kade. Two of Kade’s men in suits went forward and quickly escorted the family into the hangar.
“You have our package?” the man asked, his voice accented.
“Right behind me.” Kade motioned to the guard next to Danvers.
The guard had his weapon out—a pistol—and gave Danvers a push. Something about the guard drew my eye. He seemed familiar . . .
Suddenly, Danvers was no longer handcuffed. He knocked the guard to the ground and grabbed his gun. A shot rang out and Jackson tackled me. I saw the Chinese delegation hit the deck, too.
More shots, but I couldn’t see what was going on. I was terrified. Who was shooting?
It was over in seconds. Jackson gradually eased up. The Chinese had brought weapons. The two men were on the ground, and one of them didn’t look like he’d be getting up soon, if ever again. There was a gun still in his hand.
On our side, two were down. The guard . . . and Danvers.
I got to him just as Kade did. “What a clusterfuck,” Kade growled. “Where’d they get you?”
“Arm. Just a flesh wound. Hurts like hell.”
“The plane is gassed up and ready. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass. And I don’t want to see your face again. If not for your daughter, I’d waste your ass. Lucky for you, she’s served her country well. She’s the reason—the only reason—I’m letting you go.”
“Understood.” Danvers got to his feet. He was holding his left arm awkwardly, but other than that, he seemed unharmed.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“An escape,” he said. “The guard undid my handcuffs and told me to take advantage. So I did.”
“Are you going to be okay? You’re bleeding.”
“I’ll be fine. But I’ve gotta go. I’ll be in touch.” He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, then was hurrying toward the plane. I watched as he climbed the stairs, which lifted and closed after him.
I stared, openmouthed. The Chinese had pulled their weapons when Danvers had pulled his escape maneuver. They’d shot and wounded him, but not badly. But he in turn had shot and mortally wounded them. What about the guard?
“China.”
I turned at Jackson’s voice. There was something wrong with how he’d said my name . . .
He was kneeling next to the guard, who was still lying on the ground. The guard’s hat had fallen off, his camo uniform making him ubiquitous on a base full of identically clad men. But as I grew closer, I realized why he’d seemed familiar.
“Clark!”
I ran, dropping to my knees next to him. There was blood on his uniform. Jackson was pressing his hands against a wound in his chest. Clark’s eyes were closed.
I barely heard the plane behind me taxi away. All I could see was Clark’s blood.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I kept repeating, over and over. In the distance, I heard sirens.
“Press here,” Jackson directed, grabbing my hand and placing it over another wound in his chest. The uniform was so bulky, I couldn’t tell exactly where he’d been hit. “Harder.”
My hands shook, but I obeyed, pressing down on the blood pulsing from his body with every heartbeat. Clark was going to die. No one could bleed this much and not die.
“Mack . . .”
The word was barely audible. I jerked my head up. Clark’s eyes were barely open, but he was looking at me.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” I said, my voice a strained whisper.
“Couldn’t do it,” he managed. “Couldn’t tell you no after all. How ’bout that?”
“I was wrong,” I babbled, choking back tears. “I should never have asked that of you.”
“’s not your fault.” His eyes drifted closed again.
I was sobbing so hard, everything was a blur. Somehow, he lifted his hand and rested it on my back.
“C’mere,” he breathed.
Obediently, I bent closer so I could hear him.
“I . . . love you, Mack. It was worth it. Remember.”
Panic clawed at me. This was my nightmare come to horrifying life. Clark’s blood on my hands, literally and figuratively. Him dying in my arms while I was helpless.
“Please don’t die. Please. You can’t die.”
But he didn’t respond. His eyes were closed again.
Then the paramedics were there, and Kade was directing them to Clark. Jackson and I were unceremoniously shoved out of the way. In minutes, they had him in the back of the ambulance, and it was speeding away.
I whirled and latched onto Jackson. “We have to go with him. He can’t be alone.”
The look on his face held both sadness and pity. He didn’t answer.
“No!” I yelled. “No! He is not dead. Not Clark.” I was sobbing again, so hard, I couldn’t breathe. My hands were wet, and Clark’s blood, it was all over me and Jackson.
“Get her out of here,” Kade said harshly.
“No! We can’t leave him. Please,” I begged Jackson. “Please, let’s go to him.” I wasn’t making sense even to me, but I couldn’t leave.
“We have to go,” he said.
I fought him, but I was crying and couldn’t get away. Finally, he picked me up, cradling me to his chest and shushing me. He walked with me to our sedan. By then, I’d quieted. I was numb. Shock, I realized. Jackson put me in the car and got behind the wheel.
I couldn’t face what had just happened. I curled into my seat and closed my eyes. I wanted to sleep. In sleep, I wouldn’t have to think about it, wouldn’t have to feel the sticky blood on my hands.
I woke lying on a bed. I sat straight up, panic coursing through me.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Jackson. He moved from a chair to sit on the side of the bed. We were back in the hotel room. I looked around, confused. It was still light outside, the bright sunlight of midday blazing in the sky.
“It’s okay,” Jackson said, gently pushing me back onto the bed. His face was grim, the lines around his mouth and eyes deeper.
I was naked but wrapped in a thick robe with the RITZ CARLTON embroidered on the left chest. My hair had been brushed out, too.
Looking up at him, I suddenly remembered all that had happened. I felt the tears coming, so I turned my face into the pillow. Jackson gathered me up in his arms, shifting me onto his lap. I curled against him, wetting his shirt like a crybaby.
“Have you heard anything?” I sniffed.
“He’s in surgery. That’s the last I heard.”
“And Danvers?”
“His plane went down somewhere over Tahoe.”
I sucked in a breath. “Is he—?”
“I don’t know. He may have bailed. They’re searching for the wreckage now.” Jackson held me tighter. “Don’t give up hope.”
I closed my now-dry eyes. I was all cried out. My emotions were numb.
“You were right,” I whispered. “I pushed Clark. And look what happened.”
“It’s not your fault. He’s a grown man. It was his decision.”
“No, I told him he was just trying to get back at me. He wouldn’t be fighting for his life if I had just accepted his decision.”
The hotel phone rang and Jackson answered it.
“Yes . . . I see.” His gaze moved to mine. “Yes, I’ll tell her. Thanks for letting us know.” He cradled the receiver and turned to me. He took my hands in his. I suddenly went cold all over.
“Which—” I began.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Clark . . .”
I yanked my hands from his and covered my face. This couldn’t be happening. Just a few hours ago, I’d been hugging Clark. Now . . . he was gone. It wasn’t possible.
But if anyone knew how quickly death could snatch a loved one, it was me.
I lay down on the bed and rolled away from Jackson. I was so tired. I stared at the wall as he lay down next to me and pulled the covers up over us. He didn’t try to talk to me. He just slung an arm over my waist and pulled me close.
We lay there for a long time until, at last, I fell into a troubled sleep.