Page 10 of Erik

I wanted to crawl back in bed and wait until Natasha turned the microphone back on.

I could go for a drive.

Rubbing my hand down my face, I groaned into my palm as my thoughts went every which way, and I shook my head viciously. Natasha’s expression when I asked her about the bomb filled my mind’s eye and walked around the pleather, semi-circular couch to grab the sheath of papers I had on Carlyle Santino.

After her apartment was blown up, she’d moved into the complex he owned, and I knew she was home. Searching for the address, I flipped through the pages and furrowed my brows as my thoughts finally slowed down. I’d probably never get the opportunity to apologize if I waited in Natasha to show up in front of me.

Carlyle knew classified information about me if his threat was real, which means he knew why I left the SEALs. Ben getting killed was my fault— I’d followed a bad call, ignored my gut because I trusted my team lead. If I had voiced my objection, Nathan would’ve reconsidered our plan, and Ben would still be alive. I wouldn’t have a bullet dangerously close to my spine.

Shaking my head furiously, I dampened the thoughts of what could’ve been and tried to focus on fixing the shitstorm I’d kicked up.

10

Natasha

“They let you in here?” My bland tone hid how astonished I was, and I scanned Erik as he stood rigid on the other side of the threshold. “What do you want? I’m not saying anymore.”

“No, that’s not why I came here. I . . . ” Trailing off, Erik pursed his lips thinly, and he captured my eyes steely as he straightened his broad shoulders. “I want to apologize, not just say ‘sorry.’ I knew what I was doing was wrong when I did it, and I . . . I want to try to start over fresh.”

“Okay . . . ” Frowning darkly, I stepped to the side, and Erik crossed into my apartment as my mind whirled. Carlyle really let him in— even after he bugged me. Why? What did Carlyle say to Erik at the station the other day? I knew he quit because Carlyle had been sure to mention it to me, but I wasn’t convinced it had much to do with me. Certainly, his deciding on a different career path wasn’t only because of his guilt over how badly he’d fucked up? “If you knew it was wrong, why’d you go along with it?”

Gesturing Erik into the kitchen as I posed my question, I rolled my lips between my teeth as I went to the stove to check on my stew. I had just started a slow cooker with some ribs, and my turkey and rice were basically just parts of a turkey carcass at the moment.

“It’s a bit of a story, but . . . you shouldn’t be the only one sharing, Natasha.”So he was listening.A vicious kind of satisfaction saddled my chest, and I turned as he dropped in a chair to clasp his hands on the table. Erik didn’t have a lean piece of meat on him anywhere, and his hunched shoulders just made him appear coiled, ready to strike. “My last mission, I should’ve done the same thing. I should’ve trusted my gut. My best friend died, and a few of us got injured. I knew I wasn’t going to pass my physical anyway, so I opted for medical discharge. I shouldn’t have become a cop, either. I doubted myself when I enrolled, throughout the training, even during the graduation ceremony. Ever since that last mission, I fuck everything up. It’s honestly impressive, but not in a good way.”

“So, you not trusting yourself just makes you not trust yourself more? That makes no sense. Shouldn’t you be more inclined to stick to your guns?” My probing earned me a huff, a slight shake of his head, and Erik sat back to stretch his long legs and tilt his head to me. His brown eyes glimmered with his shame at being so uncertain with himself, and I almost felt a little bad for him.

“You’d think so, but . . . I don’t know. I’ve never been a civilian. My parents were pretty poor, and I was a screwup, so I got sent to a military academy when I was thirteen after changing schools for the fourth time for fighting.” Surprise rose my brows, and Erik chuffed a humorless laugh as a sense of surrealism blanketed my kitchen. “I’m pretty good at it, so I enlisted. I was a sailor first, and then I became a SEAL— did that for almost eleven years. I had a place, and I was good at it. Now, I don’t.”

“Your partner was a lot older than you.” Suddenly, I felt really, really bad for Erik. How messed up was it to be used as a tool for some guy’s crusade?Wait a minute . . . that’s exactly what Carlyle did. The only difference is he knew he was right.“You really never had another job or anything outside the military?”

“Aside from being a police officer, which lasted a whopping four months, no. I’d been warned about Remmy’s craziness with Carlyle, but we were supposed to investigate the bombing. It got away from me.” Shame thickened his tone, and Erik ran his hand over his head and down his neck as he glowered at the edge of the table. “I should’ve just done what I thought I should do and asked you directly. Remmy convinced me Carlyle would never let me get that close because he’s rich, and capitalism breeds criminals and yada-yada-yada . . . ”

“You quit the force?” Turning to the pot, I peeked inside to check the temperature, and I jacked up the heat a little to get it to a boil. “Why investigate the bomb in the first place?”

“Remmy pitched the public safety crap, and everyone fell for it. It was just a pretext, though. Besides, I’ve got a pretty good idea why you got that bomb. It was to scare you into going back to Dallas, right?” My brows furrowed deeply, and I slowly turned back around as a tightness balled up under my heart. “They wanted you back, right?”

“Not me. Valerie. They sent the bomb to her because . . . I guess I didn’t do it for them anymore.” Smiling grimly, I sat down across the Erik as his lip twitched up in a snarl, and his eyes darkened with the shadows that played on his face. My abdomen ached from the tension in me, and I reached to rub my heart as it stuttered dangerously. “I thought about it a lot— why did they suddenly only want her? I never found an answer. She’s happy, though, so that’s what matters.”

“Your happiness matters, too, Natasha.” My eyes stung as I shook my head sluggishly, and I inhaled a harsh, deep breath through my nose while Erik leaned forward. “Seriously, you deserve it just as much, if not more.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t say Valerie’s was the only thing that mattered. I hate living here.” His brows rose, and his goatee bristled as sourness infected my expression and stained my tongue. “I hate my job. I hate watching everyone around me get better while I only get worse. I hate lying all the time. I hate being up all night. I think what I hate the most is that I’m too much of a coward to actually kill myself.”

“What? You shouldn’t. Natasha, everything gets better, even if it takes a little time.” A scoff escaped my nostrils, and Erik’s lips thinned as they dragged into a deep grimace. “You can change all this stuff you hate.”

“I used to tell myself that all the time— just hold on. It’ll get better. I just have to endure it, and I’ll get rewarded eventually. The thing is . . . I suffered so much. I put up with so much. I did so many things . . . so why did Valerie get her happily ever after, and I didn’t? She’d be okay eventually, but I’m tired of waiting and hoping and thinking I’ll get some relief.” Inhaling a huge lungful, I cleared my throat roughly, and Erik curled his shoulders in defeat to my points. I mean, what the fuck did he expect? I had months— years, even— to think of why and how and if. “You really don’t have the best perception, do you, Erik?”

“Not really, no. I didn’t really come here with a plan, Natasha. I just wanted to . . . to try to fix the damage I did to you. I know I probably can’t, but I had to attempt it, at least.” Eyeballing him critically, I cocked my head as he held his higher, and his eyes blazed with determination when they met mine. “I was hoping we could help each other.”

My eyelid twitched at that, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Erik just wanted to absolve himself of guilt. It had nothing to do with helping me— he only wanted to help himself. Lifting myself from my chair, I skirted the table to stand between him and it, and he never once looked away from me.

“You know what? Let’s eat. That always helps, right? Since you’re so keen on that . . . ” I didn’t move, though, my eyes narrowed into fine points as Erik clenched his jaw noticeably, and I reached to drag my fingertip down the bridge of his nose. “Unless you meant a different kind of fix. It’s been a long time. I bet you’d really enjoy yourself. Maybe, you’d even have a little pride at breaking my thirteen-year dry spell.”

“Dinner would be perfect.” I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or disappointed at Erik’s gravelly declaration. Shuffling toward the refrigerator, I pulled out a package of steaks and bacon, and I could feel his eyes scanning me critically. “Natasha, I mean it— I want to try with the goal of succeeding.”

“I bet you do.” Bitterness stained my tone. I couldn’t hold it back anymore, and I twisted to shoot Erik a nasty glare. Irritation stabbed my heart again and again, and he tensed in his seat as I slapped the packages on the counter hard. “I bet you want to succeed because then you won’t feel so bad. No one does anything unless it benefits them in some way. You wouldn’t be here if it didn’t do something good for you, Erik. I’m not stupid, and I’ve played this game before, so don’t fucking lie about it. You’re here because you feel awful, so guilty, so ashamed, and you want that absolved, so you trudge your ass all the way here, head hung low, and try to find a way in to exploit for yourself, not for me.”

“I’m not here for me.” Storming over to him, I smacked Erik across the face as hard as I could, and he flung back from the chair and onto his back. The hard clatter of wood crunching between tile and a body echoed in my ears, and I straddled him to take his cheeks in both my hands. My anger got the best of me, but I was so tired of being lied to, and hot, fat tears leaked from my eyes to dribble down my nose.