NINETEEN
Any chance you’re awake?
I hit send on the text I’d typed, fully aware it was before six a.m..
I was hoping Zane was by some miracle already up for the day. It was a long shot I know. He was married now and no doubt cuddled up with his bride in their king-sized bed.
I could appreciate the desire to stay in bed since I had just shown more fortitude than I knew I had in me when I left Chelsea’s bed as she slept.
The mattress sucked. It was too narrow, with dips and valleys that could swallow a man whole, but she’d been in it, which made the task of forcing myself to leave harder than it should have been.
The text alert startled me out of my reverie as I sat in the car in the parking garage I rented a spot in in Virginia because it was cheaper to keep a car here than in Manhattan, where I didn’t need one anyway.
One glance at the display on the cell told me that my boy hadn’t disappointed me. Zane was awake.
Out for a run. What’s up?
Out for a run at the crack of dawn? I shook my head and smiled. There was that Navy SEAL dedication I’d seen at work firsthand in Kenya.
I started to type in a text but hit to call him instead. He answered after the first ring.
“I had to be. I’m flying back to New York in a couple of hours.”
His pause spoke volumes—or maybe it was just my guilty conscience filling in his unspoken words of judgment.
Rather than wait, I said, “I wanted to talk to you about Chelsea.”
Again there was a momentary lag before he said, “All right.”
“I need you to promise you’ll keep her out of trouble while I’m gone.”
“And how long will that be? You being gone?” he asked.
If everything with Ivan went according to our prearranged schedule, I would meet him in the designated spot later today. Unfortunately in my profession, if was always a major factor. Any number of things could happen to alter my plans.
No matter what happened with Ivan, I was still expected to return to London in a few days.
Chelsea wasn’t going to be happy about it. I was far from happy about it myself.
But I had decided something as I held her in the dark last night while she slept—I’d check in with the home office but then I was going to request an extended leave of absence and fly back to the States—and to Chelsea.
They might not be happy, but SIS shouldn’t deny me. I hadn’t asked for personal time off in years. In my opinion, they owed me—though maybe not the full three months I intended to ask for.
All of my plans were contingent on other people so I didn’t have an accurate answer to Zane’s question about how long I’d be gone. I drew in a breath and gave him the only answer I had. “I don’t know.”
Another pause told me he didn’t like that response any more than I did.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he finally agreed.
“I was thinking more like putting a tracking device on her.” I laughed but I wasn’t quite joking.
I suspected if she weren’t happy with the progress the authorities were making regarding Angel, she’d go off on her own again looking for evidence to help them. The thought alone was enough to make me second-guess leaving.
Zane let out a laugh. “Now that would be illegal, wouldn’t it?”
I noticed he didn’t say he wouldn’t—or hadn’t already done it. I liked him more every day.
“Also,” I continued. “Can you arrange to have better locks installed at her flat? The one she’s got is shite. And can you get it wired with a basic security system? I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
“I’ll handle it and I’ll cover the cost. She’s my employee.”
If Zane was so possessive about Chelsea he should pay her enough that she could afford to live someplace better. I kept that to myself since he was doing me this favor.
“She know you’re leaving?” he asked.
“Yes.” Or she would know when she woke up and found my note.
It might not have been the best way to tell her, given our history. I’d taken the coward’s way out, I suppose.
Or the spy’s way—don’t offer up any more information than you had to, and never before it was absolutely necessary.
In my defense, I hadn’t wanted last night to be about my leaving. And I couldn’t explain exactly why it was so critical I go today.
In my sleep deprived state, a note promising to be back as soon as I could be, seemed like the best option.
Hindsight being what it was, I probably should have done things differently.
She would no doubt be livid, even if I did make good on my promise and could return in a week or two. The thought of some more angry sex wasn’t at all unpleasant. I’d certainly enjoyed it with her during our reunion in my car.
“Hey, Tristan.” Zane speaking brought my wandering mind back to the conversation.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what you want or what you’re planning to do when it comes to Chelsea, but whatever it is, make sure she knows upfront. She deserves that at least.”
He was right. And as soon as I figured out what in the bloody hell I wanted to do about us, and what SIS would allow me to do, she’d be the first to know.