Page 21 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)

AMARYLLIS

“ H ello, mind if I join you?”

I looked up at a woman who looked vaguely familiar, but whom I couldn’t place. Not that unusual, considering I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life here. “Actually, I was about to leave?—”

“I was hoping you might consider staying a few minutes. Amaryllis? Is that right?”

Every nerve ending in my body went live at once and adrenaline flooded my system as I cataloged the threats.

Two ways out of the café; the front door was closest. Her hands were visible, but her posture suggested concealed carry.

Twelve other patrons sat near enough to be either collateral or cover.

My muscles coiled beneath a mask of calm I’d learned from the years of training overlaying my primal urge to run.

“Forgive me. I’m Kyra Black. I should’ve identified myself first.”

Kyra Black? Reaper’s mother? It was possible, but it could also still be a trap. “How?—”

“Mother’s intuition.”

I raised a brow and reached for my weapon when she moved her hand toward her pocket.

“I’m getting my ID, dear. I’m not carrying. I mean, where would I put it?” She was right about the yoga pants she was wearing. Unless she used an ankle holster, which meant she’d have to reach down.

She pulled out a single card and set it on the table.

With one hand still on my gun, I picked it up with the other.

The diplomatic ID bore the official Department of State seal and her photo and name—Kyra Elizabeth Black.

The security features, card stock, and formatting were all authentic.

No forgery I’d ever seen could replicate the subtle holographic elements embedded in legitimate State credentials. I set it on the table in front of her.

She motioned to an empty chair. “May I?”

“Sure, but?—”

“I won’t keep you. However, I want to say that I know my son accused you of something quite serious. Last night, he came to the place where we’re staying, knowing he’d hurt you, and frankly, he looked like it was eating him alive.”

At least I now knew where he’d gone. I leaned against the chair and folded my arms.

“While I want you to know I’m not defending him, it did appear he hadn’t slept in quite some time.”

“As long as you’re not defending him,” I muttered under my breath. “Look, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you, Mrs. Black.”

“Please call me Kyra.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wasn’t her fault her son was an asshole—or maybe it was, considering she’d accosted me in a café to apologize on his behalf. Not that she was apologizing. I scooted my chair from the table.

“Please.”

I couldn’t say if it was the word itself, the way she said it, or the look on her face that stopped me from getting up and leaving. Or because I suddenly felt as though I could confide in this person who was basically a total stranger. Maybe it was my own lack of sleep.

“He did hurt me,” I whispered.

She reached over and put her hand on my arm, and while that would normally make me flinch, it didn’t.

“The first thing I want you to know is that Kingston didn’t put me up to this. In fact, if he knew we were speaking right now, it would likely anger him.”

“Most things do,” I muttered, again under my breath.

“You’re right.”

My eyes met hers.

“My son has always been quick to anger when he’s scared.

When he was fifteen, he found out his girlfriend was moving away with her family.

Instead of telling her how much he’d miss her, he picked a fight with her about something trivial and broke up with her first. Better to control the ending than risk being abandoned. ”

Abandonment was something I knew all too well. Despite everything, I almost smiled. “Did it work?”

“About as well as his current approach is working.” She leaned against her chair, studying me. “Kingston has a need to control every situation, every outcome. It’s served him well professionally, but it’s hell on his personal relationships.”

“I gathered that much.” I traced the rim of my coffee cup with my finger. “Though I’m not sure we have a personal relationship.”

“Oh, honey. You wouldn’t be this hurt if you didn’t.”

The gentle observation hit harder than any accusation could have. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Why? Because he made an ass of himself?” Kyra shook her head. “If that were the case, Rick and I would’ve divorced thirty years ago.”

“This is different. He thinks I betrayed him. He accused me…” This was pointless.

While I tossed and turned all night, furious with him for many reasons, including that he’d left me alone without having the decency to tell me where he was going, I’d also worried.

And I didn’t want to have to worry about him or Mercury or anyone.

When would the time come that someone worried about me?

“And that wounds you because you care what he thinks.” It wasn’t a question. “But more than that, it wounds you because, somewhere along the way, you started to trust him. And trust doesn’t come easily for you, does it?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, wishing I’d left when I had the chance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“My dear, I spent my career reading people. How do you think I was so certain who you were? You have the bearing of someone who learned early that the people who claim to love you will disappoint you when you need them most.”

My throat tightened. “I think this conversation is getting too personal.”

“Perhaps. But Kingston has that same bearing.” Kyra’s voice was soft but relentless. “Different reasons, same result. Two people circling each other, wanting connection but terrified of vulnerability.”

“He’s not the one who—” I stopped myself.

“Who what?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Of course I would.”

“My life has been…complicated.”

“His wasn’t easy. No one’s is.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “When he told you about his asset, why do you think he did it?”

“He said he wanted me to know I could trust him.”

“And did you believe him?”

“Yes,” I blurted. “But he doesn’t trust me.”

“Why not?”

I hated the question, but more, I hated having to admit the answers, even to myself.

I glanced across the street and gasped when I saw Reaper. He was talking to someone on his phone, but immediately lowered it and raced in our direction, almost getting run over by approaching cars that screeched to a stop, their drivers yelling curses and blowing their horns.

“Oh, dear.” Kyra noticed her son approaching. “I think I’ll excuse myself.” She disappeared out the rear entrance when he came in the front.

I expected him to follow her, but he stalked over to me instead and pulled out the chair she’d been sitting in. “Do you know how worried I was?”

“I think I have some idea.”

He sighed. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

My eyes bored into his. “For what?”

“Leaving last night. Not returning. I didn’t expect to be gone long. My mother…” His words trailed off as he looked in the direction of the door she’d left through. “Who you’ve obviously met.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, as if that would stop me from crying. “Wrong answer,” I whispered, attempting to blink them away.

“I know.” He leaned closer. “We need to talk, but not here.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please.” He sounded like his mom, even the look on his face was the same.

I stood when he did. He motioned for me to go in front of him, then rested his hand on the small of my back. I hated how good it felt, how much I wanted to lean into him, and how cold I felt once we were outside and he walked beside me instead.

The town house was around the corner and halfway down the block, so it didn’t take us long to get there. He unlocked the front door, went inside first, and held it open for me. I brushed past him and over to the kitchen, where I leaned against the counter with my arms folded in front of me.

“I was wrong to accuse you.”

“You did more than accuse me. You were absolutely certain I’d compromised your asset.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” he repeated.

When tears fell down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away, I turned from him, then stiffened when he approached and put his hands on my shoulders.

“I can’t—” I jerked away, then spun around. “Do you know what that did to me?”

He took a step closer.

“Don’t.” I remembered him saying how much he hated it when I said that, and why did I care, dammit? “I need space.”

“When I returned and you weren’t here, I thought I’d lost you.”

“The meeting with Briggs…”

“Is that the only reason you didn’t?”

How could I tell him that the real reason was because I was afraid he wouldn’t come after me again?

And honestly, had he been entirely out of line with his accusation?

If the situations were reversed, wouldn’t I have been equally suspicious?

Wouldn’t I have immediately assumed he’d betrayed my confidence? Of course I would have.

While he’d shown me he trusted me by confiding in me about Dagger, I hadn’t shared any of my sources with him, hadn’t done anything at all to reinforce my own trustworthiness.

Both of our phones rang at the same time, preventing me from responding. I dug mine out, expecting to see an update about the meeting. Instead, the text from Wren was about Edmonds. He’d taken a turn for the worse and wasn’t expected to recover.

A sob tore from my throat. Not for him. For everything . I tossed my phone on the counter and wrapped my arms around my waist, wishing I was alone, wishing Kingston wasn’t watching me lose my shit. Wishing he’d ignore me saying I needed space and wrap me in his arms.

The last wish, I got.

Not only did he put his arms around me, but he lifted me in them and carried me over to the sofa, then sat, holding me on his lap.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed my temple as his hands ran up and down my back, soothing me.

“I can’t keep doing this. Why am I doing this?” I buried my face in his shoulder.

“Because you care too much to let people like Vasiliev and Briggs and maybe even Aldrich win.”

“It happens every time. I think maybe I’ll finally get the lead that will tell me where she is. And then, moments later, it’s gone.”

“We aren’t giving up, Charity. We’re going to find her.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want me to. Maybe that’s why she lied for so long. She never…” I couldn’t finish, couldn’t say the words that would feel like the last nail in the coffin of one of the most important relationships of my life.

I heard my phone ring again, but I didn’t care. Whoever it was, whatever it was about, no longer mattered.