Two Weeks Later
“Ahoy, Admiral Coxless,” Parker declared, interrupting the classic rock blaring through Ethan’s headphones and intruding on what was supposed to be a quiet morning on the water.
Too tired to protest the fact that Parker had hacked his phone—again—Ethan just pulled his oars through the water on a sigh. “Promoted me, have you?”
“Well, you’re the navy man, so I’m sure you’ll correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that how it works?” Parker asked, the noise of a coffee grinder churning through the background. “If you’re the captain of two coxless vessels, then that makes you an admiral, right?”
“I only own the one single scull, Parker.” Ethan dipped his oars in the water, keeping his stroke smooth and even. Being out here, the sun still a pink slip of light on the horizon, was the closest thing to rest he’d managed in the last several weeks. Nothing settled him. Everything hurt. And the reminder of failure was everywhere.
“Yeah, I wasn’t referring to a second boat.”
“Didn’t think so.” Too tired to humor Parker, Ethan cut to the chase. “What do you want?”
Parker paused, all noise from the other end of the line going quiet. There was no clanking of mugs, no whir of beans, no clatter of spoons. Just Parker, still and calm, as if he were seriously considering the next thing to come out of his mouth. It could mean only one thing—Ethan was going to hate whatever Parker had to say.
“What do I want?” Parker asked, the rattle of a drawer full of clinking silverware accompanying the sarcasm. “I want to know where Georgia hid my Keurig, because this damn French press takes forever. I want my artificial sweetener, frozen pizzas, and Mountain Dew to magically replace the organic sugar, chicken breasts, and kale. And I definitely want to stop losing rock-paper-scissors to the entire office,” he grumbled. “Statistically that shouldn’t even be a thing.” He sighed and ran water in the sink. “But since Georgia likes her coffee fresh and does all the grocery shopping, I’m just going to have to learn to live with the first two. I’ll revisit the rock-paper-scissors issue at a later date—I’m sure Ortiz, at least, is cheating—but until then, a bet’s a bet. I lost, so I get to call the boss on his—how did Georgia put it?—butt-hurt-princess routine.”
Ethan didn’t bother to object. What was the point? He wasn’t stupid. He’d been nothing short of an asshole at the office. Even Georgia, who typically gave as good as she got, had been avoiding him.
“Nothing to say?” Parker asked. “No protestations from the BHP?”
“What’s the point?” Ethan asked, his scull slipping silently through the water. “You’re going to tell me what you think, regardless.”
“True,” Parker agreed, the whistle of a teapot sounding in the background. “And hey, if you’re not going to fight me on what an asshole you’ve been lately, then I can jump straight to the good part.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“Fixing it, of course.” The refrigerator door creaked, then closed, and Parker mumbled, “She thinks she’s so smart, pouring out the flavored creamer and replacing it with fat-free half-and-half laced with cinnamon. Like I won’t notice when my coffee doesn’t taste like a snickerdoodle.”
There was a long pause, then a heavy sigh. “Don’t tell her I said this, but damn, fresh-ground is the way to go.”
And leave me in peace.
“Do not hang up on me. If I have to track you down to your river of solitude, I’m gonna be pissed.”
Ethan adjusted his stroke, straightening out his scull when it slid through an unseen current that pulled it to the right. He didn’t want to talk to Parker. Didn’t want to hear about what an asshole he’d been. And he definitely didn’t want to hear about how none of it was his fault. But most of all, Ethan didn’t want to think of Parker pouring a second cup of coffee, of meandering down the hall, still fuzzy and sated from a good night’s sleep, and slipping in bed beside the woman he loved.
Ethan was unaccustomed to jealousy, despair, or defeat. And until he learned how to deal with each of them, it was better for everyone if he kept his distance.
Ethan hung up, then powered off his phone for good measure. He made it a quarter mile upstream before Parker’s voice interrupted the quiet.
“Seriously? You thought turning off your phone would work? On me?”
“Worth a shot,” Ethan grunted.
“Please. I updated the hardware on all our team’s equipment months ago. Short of taking the battery out and dumping it in the river, you’re a captive audience.”
“Don’t tempt me—”
“Do it and I swear to God I’ll start hacking into your home security system. I’ll critique everything. The way you brush your teeth, the way you fold your underwear—and I know you’ve got one of those little board things just for that perfect center crease—I’ll be like an über-opinionated AI you can’t get rid of.”
“You’re already an über-opinionated AI I can’t get rid of.”
“So then we agree—resistance is futile.”
Ethan was 90 percent certain that based on the delivery, Parker was making some inane pop culture reference; he just didn’t care enough to ask. In any case, it would only prolong the inevitable.
“How long are you going to let this continue, Ethan?” Parker asked, the question a soft, toneless statement in Ethan’s ear, so at odds with the quippy banter Parker relied on for socialization. “How long are you going to punish yourself?”
“I’m not punishing myself.”
“Wow. So we’re just straight-up lying to each other now. Okay, then. Gloves off.” Parker pulled out one of the bar stools flanking the kitchen island, its legs scraping against the floor. “Regardless of what your ego may have led you to believe, you are not God. You are not all-seeing, and you are not responsible for every single person who enters your orbit.” Parker sighed as if Ethan had told him to slow down and use small words. “None of what happened is your fault, Ethan.”
“She died, Parker. Because of me. Because of choices I made—”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
No, no, he didn’t know it. Ethan had made the decision to go undercover. To read Natalia in. To ask for her help. And then he’d been dumb enough to get close. To let something that should have been strictly business turn personal. He’d made promises, goddamn it. And he’d broken every single one of them.
And what had it all been for? Yes, Hernan Vega was dead, the cartel done with the DC area, but that wasn’t why Ethan had taken the job in the first place.
“What was it all for, Parker?” Ethan asked, finally giving voice to the thought that had been plaguing him. “Tell me how the last month and a half hasn’t made everything worse instead of better.”
Tell me how I haven’t made everything worse.
“You act like Will’s dead, Ethan—”
“We don’t know that he isn’t.” The thought kept him up at night, poring over topographical maps, searching the Internet for chatter.
“I promote you from captain to admiral, and you advance from princess to drama queen—no one could ever accuse you of being anything short of ambitious.”
“I’m serious—”
“Yeah?” Parker snarled. “Well, so the fuck am I. Will isn’t dead, Ethan. You’ve read the reports, you know that as well as I do. We got there too late! We missed him by hours, a day at the most, but to focus on that is to ignore what’s important—he walked out under his own steam, Ethan. A whole host of forensics at the scene tell us as much.”
Ethan had read the reports. Reviewed what little footage had been recovered, studied each and every photograph. All indications said Will had walked out of that hellhole alive. But where was he? Who was he with?
And why hadn’t he come home?
“His captors were all dead, Ethan. A sniper saw to that.”
“Then, where is he, Parker?” Ethan asked, his muscles burning, sweat dripping into his eyes as he pulled himself upstream against a current that kept trying to push him back down again.
“I don’t know,” Parker acknowledged, dropping his voice a degree or two. “I wish I did. I wish Georgia didn’t jump every time her phone rings. I wish I never caught her staring out the window or scanning the faces of the people we pass on the street. I wish I had all the answers, I really do.” Parker took a long sip of coffee. “I don’t know where Will is or what he’s doing—but he’s a Bennett, which means he’ll come home when he’s goddamn good and ready and not one second before.” He cursed beneath his breath, then with a smile lacing his voice, said, “It’s a family trait.”
Yeah, yeah, it was. Ethan wasn’t sure he’d ever met two more headstrong people in his life—Will and Georgia could try the patience of a saint—but they were loyal, steadfast, and eventually they made the road to where they needed to be.
“He’ll find his way back.”
“Georgia did,” Ethan acknowledged. “After everything, she came home.” And now Ethan felt as if he’d never really known her at all. As if for years he’d seen shades of who she might be, who she could be, if the circumstances were right. He’d thought to give her that with a job—he could never have imagined it would take something else entirely.
But he couldn’t argue with the results. Georgia and Parker just worked. They compensated for each other’s weaknesses, bolstered each other’s strengths. And for a sliver of time, Ethan had tasted that kind of relationship. Recognized it for the addictive drug it was. But learning to live without it, forcing himself to move on, was proving far more difficult than he could ever have imagined.
“And Natalia didn’t, is that what you’re saying?” Parker asked.
“I don’t think it needs to be said at all.”
“God, you’re an idiot sometimes.” Parker sighed.
Ethan didn’t have to be in the same room to know that Parker had shoved his glasses halfway up his forehead so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. It was his go-to reaction whenever Ethan asked for a technical explanation, or help resetting his password, or deploying an update on his phone.
“She died—”
“Yes,” Parker snapped. “Ana Maria died. I was there, if you’ll recall, sitting next to you in the hospital while we waited for news. But Natalia lived. You worry so much about where Will is and what he’s doing, but you know exactly where Natalia is and have done nothing.”
That wasn’t true at all. Ethan had called in every single favor, asked Isaac to jump through flaming hoops of fire, and all so Ethan could assure Natalia’s safety. It had taken some convincing, but in the end Natalia had been declared dead and granted a new, ironclad identity—courtesy of Parker—in exchange for consulting with the DEA on cartel operations.
Last Ethan had heard, she’d been set up with a stipend and a tiny studio apartment in Arlington.
“I know exactly where she is, Parker.”
“Which begs the question—why the fuck aren’t you with her?”
Parker didn’t understand, but how could he? He’d met Natalia just once, and only to go through the process of wiping away her old life and replacing it with a new one. He’d gone the extra mile, arranging for Natalia to have more than just a new identity—providing her with a past, a history, adding layer upon layer upon layer of protection. Ethan hadn’t even had to ask; Parker had just stepped in and done it.
Coupled with the fact that the cartel had their money and every assurance that Hernan and his nieces were dead, Natalia would be safe. Could have the life she’d wanted, complete with a tiny studio apartment and the freedom to pursue what made her happy.
He wanted that for her. Even if it didn’t include him.
“I promised her, Parker. Promised that if it came down to a choice, that I would save Ana Maria.” Ethan sighed, sweat slicking his skin as the sun crested the horizon, spilling light and warmth across the water until it sparkled.
“Right. Because that’s how it works,” Parker muttered.
“She only ever asked me for one promise, and at the end of the day, I broke it.” He didn’t regret it. Not really. How could he, when somewhere, right now, Natalia was safe, tucked up in bed, warm beneath the weight of a down comforter? Soon she’d wake, have some coffee, and face the day.
He wanted to be with her. To roll her over and stroke her back. To bring her coffee. To take her to breakfast. But if that was the price he had to pay for putting her first, for loving her enough to save her life, then he’d pay it. Gladly.
But still, he worried about her constantly. It would be hard now. He understood that for Natalia, this unexpected freedom would be a new kind of hell. But it would fade, and she’d find her way.
And likewise, Ethan would find a way to let go. To let someone else stroke her skin, kiss her good morning, bring her croissants. If that was the price he paid for knowing she was alive, he’d accept it. Learn to live with the ache her absence had left in him.
“Right. And I promised Georgia that glow-in-the-dark condoms were just as good as the regular ones.”
Ethan choked on surprise and air and a laugh that felt like a rusted penny lodged in his throat.
“Glow Stick?” That little anecdote made so much more sense. How Georgia kept from strangling Parker in his sleep, Ethan would never know.
“Not the point,” Parker continued, and Ethan could practically see the tips of his ears going pink. “The point is that you still haven’t figured out that the only one who expects you to be perfect, the only one who expects you to live up to your word a hundred percent of the time, is you.” Parker snorted. “Wherever he is, Will doesn’t blame you, Ethan. He’s not angry or hurt. And I don’t believe that Natalia blames you, either. Not really.”
“Her sister meant everything to her—”
“And she was dead the moment those bullets tore through her back. One of them nicked her aorta—you heard the doctor—no amount of time would have made a difference . . . But for Natalia? That time mattered. Probably even saved her life.”
Yes, but Ethan knew she’d resent him for it all the same. That if anger didn’t widen the canyon between them, grief would. No matter how much he hurt, no matter how many times a day he found himself reaching for his phone or driving through her neighborhood, Ethan would not make this any harder for her. His door was always open—even if she chose to keep hers closed.
“She knows how to find me,” he said, pulling through three strong, deep strokes, extending his legs and tightening his core.
“I never pegged you for a quitter—how disappointing.”
“You gave Georgia the space she needed,” Ethan grunted, letting his scull slide the final few yards up to the dock. “As I recall, you were adamant that you give her the time and space to figure out what she wanted.”
“Because Georgia, God love her, has to figure shit out for herself. I have to give her the space to get comfortable with change. I had to sit back and pray that at the end of the day, she’d be brave enough, strong enough, to come home. To love me. That’s just who she is—confident and self-assured once she’s made a decision, but a stubborn neurotic mess while she gets there.” Parker’s words might have been annoyed, but his voice was all warm affection. “Why do you think she still pays rent on that apartment she never visits? Why do you think I haven’t put a ring on her finger when we both know I’m going to? I give her time and space because it’s what she needs, Ethan, and I’m always, always going to put what she needs first.” He grew quiet for a long beat, only the sound of the tap and the clank of his mug filtering over the line. “You seem a bit slow this morning, so let me spell it out for you—Natalia’s never going to come to this realization on her own, and I think deep down you know that.”
Did he? He’d certainly considered the possibility Natalia would never reach out, never find a way to forgive him for everything that had happened. But that wasn’t really what Parker was saying.
“The one time you repress that pesky saving-people urge,” Parker said, his eye roll almost audible.
“She doesn’t need me to save her, Parker. She never did, and your better half was the one to point it out.”
“And if I recall correctly the recap of that conversation,” Parker said, drawing out his words like an irritated teacher repeating something for the fifth time, “she also pointed out that Natalia just needed someone to remind her that she was worth saving in the first place.
“She’s grieving, Ethan, and not just the loss of her sister. She never got a chance to mourn her parents, either. And now, on top of all that, she’s got to find a way to reconcile all the guilt that’s been eating her up for years.”
“She’s got nothing to feel guilty for,” Ethan snarled. She never had. He regretted that he’d ever had even a second of hesitation about that. “Nothing.”
“Easy, killer, I know that. You know that. Hell, the entire team knows that. But does she?”
She couldn’t possibly. Ethan had seen the regret she carried, the guilt she refused to acknowledge. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Natalia would have a hell of a time living with the fact that, in the end, every single terrible decision she’d been forced to make hadn’t saved her sister.
“She’ll blame herself,” Ethan admitted.
“Yeah. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
Ethan snorted but climbed onto the dock without protest or denial.
“Now you tell me—if I hadn’t thrown paper instead of rock, would you have gotten out of your own way long enough to see the situation clearly?”
Ethan let the silence answer for him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Parker groaned as if he were stretching. “Lucky for you, you’ve got friends who love you enough to hack your phone and explain all the ways you’re a moron, and all before dawn.”
“Sun’s up, Parker.”
“Fine. All before a second cup of coffee. Point is, Natalia doesn’t have that. So if you want her to walk through your door at the end of the day, if you want to wake up next to her every morning, if you want the chance to make, break, and keep an infinite number of promises, then you better fight for her, Ethan. Because she’s not in a place to fight for herself.”
“You’re right.”
All movement abruptly ceased on the other end of the phone. “Come again, please?”
“I think once in this lifetime was more than enough,” Ethan replied. But it was true. Parker, as usual, had managed to worm his way to the heart of the issue and make something that looked complicated sound simple.
Fight for her. It wouldn’t be easy. And she might not be ready. But Ethan specialized in the impossible.
The dishwasher door creaked, and the top tray rattled as Parker pulled it out. “Ugh. I keep telling her to stop rinsing—I can never tell if these are clean or dirty!”
Ethan huffed, pulled his scull from the water, and made his way to the slip he used for storage with the beginnings of a grin. There’d been a time, not too long ago, when Parker had owned nothing but coffee mugs, paper plates, and plastic forks. Domesticity looked good on him, even if it did make him insufferably smart in new and irritating ways.
“Fine. If they’re clean, they’re just getting washed again,” he grumbled. “We good? Do I need to physically come get you and drag your ass out to Arlington?”
“We’re good,” Ethan confirmed, though he wasn’t headed to Arlington just yet. He had some stops to make first, another set of promises to keep. And one lingering question that surfaced above the rest.
“Hey, Parker?”
“Yeah?”
“You said you promised Georgia that glow-in-the-dark condoms were just as effective . . .”
“Heartbreak made you a bit slow, didn’t it?” Parker laughed. “You never even noticed when Georgia took herself off the fieldwork rotation and took on consulting.”
Holy. Shit.
“I . . . Congratulations? May Georgia have mercy on your soul? I hope the couch is comfortable?”
“Yes. To all of it,” Parker laughed. “It’s wild, man! I duplicated code! Now go get your girl. I’m about to be a positive male role model, which means I need my positive male role model to get his shit together.”
And on that slightly terrifying bombshell, Parker hung up, leaving Ethan to wonder how so much had changed so fast.
And what changes were still to come.