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“Apart from my parents sending me from this boarding school to that, every decision, every responsibility I’ve ever had has fallen on my shoulders. I appreciate what you’ve done for me more than you’ll ever know.”
When I whispered what she could do for me in return, she kissed me passionately and suggested we break in the bed.
We walked to the studio, where Mike was waiting, then I kissed Eliza goodbye and left for Shere, promising to return in time for dinner.
The entire way, I thought about how the last eight days had been the happiest of my life. Leaving El for more than a couple of hours, though, was going to be even more difficult than I’d imagined.
Driving into the estate where the command center had been set up when the coalition was originally formed, I felt tension settle in my shoulders that had been absent while I was in Portugal. How had I lived with it as long as I had? And why, until now, had it seemed normal?
Rather than parking near the main residence, I drove to the cottage where Kima stayed, got out, and knocked on the door.
When she answered, her mood didn’t seem any better than when we last spoke.
We embraced, then she flopped on the sofa, reminding me of the fifteen-year-old girl I met all those years ago. “This can’t be all about Oleander.”
“It isn’t.”
“What then?”
“Why do I feel like I turn into a teenager whenever I’m around you?”
I laughed out loud and sat beside her. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
She slugged my arm. “What’s going on with you? You seem different.”
“I’m always different around you. I guess you could say I turn into a twenty-two-year-old kid.”
Her eyes scrunched, and she studied me. “You were at Casa Melro.”
I nodded and squeezed her knee. “I was.”
“You’re never going to take me there, are you?”
I raised a brow and cocked my head. “I might.”
Kima crossed her arms. “Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Typhon? Every other time I’ve asked, you said you don’t take anyone there, ever.”
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Her mouth gaped. “Are you serious?”
“About meeting her? Yes.” I was also serious about Eliza. The tricky part in introducing the two women was the explanation that would have to go along with it. The reason I was in Kima’s life was because her stepfather was killed in the line of duty and, as he lay dying, he’d made me promise to look after her and her mother.
Could I tell the story without El noticing I was leaving out a big part of what had happened? Perhaps while we were with Kima, but would she question me later when we were alone?
If she did, I’d say it was better left in the past, like I had more than once. No good would come of her knowing how Saint had failed his brothers-in-arms that day, and the devastation that came afterwards.
As I’d listened to El talk about the way he was before he met Harper and after, I wondered if he had faced his sins and, when he looked at himself in the mirror, was he troubled by who he saw? To me, he was a murderer. Not only that, but for eleven years, I believed he was also the mole in the unit.
That Z would welcome him back to MI6 and Rile would hire him to work for the Invincibles had to mean I was wrong. They wouldn’t risk it, would they?
The more important question was, did they know something I didn’t? In the same way Z had said he wouldn’t forgive me if he found out I was using Eliza to get to Saint, I wouldn’t forgive him if he’d discovered what happened that day and hadn’t shared it with me.
“A-a-a-n-d he’s back. Phew. I thought the broody guy I’ve grown to love had turned into a sap.”
I nudged her. “You’re a brat.”
“Only when I’m around you.”