Page 19

Turning my head slightly, I pressed my fingers across the yellowing bruise on my cheek.

It hadn’t been the first time I’d been hit and likely wouldn’t be the last. I allowed my fingers to trail to the cut on my lip, fingering the slight opening.

A part of me wanted to dig at the healing wound just to cause it to bleed.

Just to create physical pain, which was all I deserved.

I shifted my gaze to my eyes, noticing the lines around both.

Was it possible I’d aged by several years in the last few days?

Or had I not been paying attention to how many weeks and months had slipped me by?

I’d been dedicated to a cause. Had I done so for the right reasons? In my mind, yes, I had.

Or at least, that’s what I’d continued telling myself during every dangerous mission, every situation that could have gone the wrong way.

Until I ran out of time.

Alfaro was a monster. There was no refuting that, but I’d latched onto needing to find a worthwhile story instead of thinking through the possible ramifications.

Fisting my hand, I adjusted the towel and tucked my hair behind both ears. I felt dead inside, absolutely devoid of anything. No anger. No misery. No heartache for lost time or lamenting over dates I’d refused to go on, relationships I’d never allowed myself to enjoy.

Just nothing.

Maybe that meant I was feeling sorry for myself. I certainly didn’t deserve to feel that way.

Maria’s husband had lost a beautiful wife, their love story one I’d been allowed to be a part of. Their wedding had been magical and I’d been the maid of honor.

Mark’s mother and father had lost a son, a man they were extremely proud of since he’d been the first one in their extended family to go to college. He’d kept the photograph of the day of his college graduation, his mother and father standing beside him. All with bright smiles on their faces.

Kyle’s daughter had lost her father, the little girl always eager to show off her latest ballet moves. She’d texted him just the night before and he’d managed to connect for a few minutes, able to tell her a bedtime story.

A final story.

One that would haunt her as their deaths would forever haunt me.

I glanced down at the envelope, which was now tattered, covered in dirt.

With my hands shaking, I peeled it apart, studying the small jump drive I’d been given.

My friends had lost their lives for a tiny piece of information.

The ugliness of reality pushed me close to a personal edge.

Whatever was on the drive, I would use to its fullest capabilities.

Somehow, I would satisfy my need for revenge while bringing them justice.

Somehow.

I grasped the drive in my hand, curling my fingers around it.

When I opened the bathroom door, I fell against it, no longer able to feel my legs. My pulse was high, my mind suddenly spinning out of control. If only I’d listened to my editor who’d warned me the trip was too dangerous.

If only I’d heeded the warning signals that had gone off in my brain after the first threat.

If only I hadn’t been contacted by an unknown source with promises of delivering an explosive piece of evidence.

If only…

I folded my knees against my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

Suddenly, I felt his presence. There was no disguising the shower of electric charges or the scent of the man. Dirty or not, the musky fragrance of dark woods and spices was undeniable. The man was oppressive, so much so I wasn’t certain why I was so attracted to him.

The dream had remained in vivid colors in my mind during the drive. I’d latched onto it, a moment of taking back what limited sanity I had left.

The reality of touching him still seemed surreal, but he’d managed to ground me if only for a little while.

He slid down the wall just outside the bedroom, remaining quiet.

I don’t know why he was bothering. It had been obvious I was nothing but a burden to him, a blip in his retirement.

A serious blip in his typical actions. The question remained as to why he’d bothered to come for me, but I would be a horrible martyr on top of being a shitty person if I tried to convince myself I wasn’t grateful.

The single bedroom had a bed, a dresser, and an overhead fan. At least I’d flicked the switch before heading into the bathroom. The cool breeze tingled my skin, but not nearly as much as his body’s closeness.

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes.

“They all had families, Maddox. Amazing families. I don’t. I have no one any longer. Do you want to know something silly?”

He didn’t interrupt me.

“I signed the divorce papers less than two weeks before heading to El Salvador. My editor had just told me I needed to pick up my game. Maybe latching onto the story was a crazy midlife crisis or an attempt to relive my glory days.” My laugh sounded bitter even to me.

“Don’t you think it’s some fucking twisted cruel fate that no one would miss me if I died, but their deaths will destroy dozens of people?

I just…” I fisted my mouth, hating myself for feeling and being so weak.

“It’s just not fair. You know? They had everything to live for. Everything!”

“You’re wrong,” he said in a much quieter voice than I was used to.

“Which aspect of my life or their lives are you referring to?”

He tilted his head. “You don’t deserve to die because of what happened.

Your colleagues knew the risks they were taking.

They weren’t forced to come with you. All four of you wanted to help find a way to help underprivileged children and possibly find a key to help free the kidnapped women. That’s honorable.”

“Some of those kids were sold. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, I can. Alfaro is a pig.”

“Sounds like you know him well.”

“Well enough to understand the need to destroy him,” he admitted.

I laughed, the sound as lifeless as I felt. “There’s one problem with your summation, Lieutenant. I wasn’t there just to help the children or even those women.”

“Then why were you there?”

As I extended my arm, I felt a sense of relief.

This wasn’t my secret to keep. “When I was at the orphanage, a man I’d never seen before appeared and handed me this, telling me I’d know what to do with it.

A source who contacted me stateside mentioned if I accepted the offer, as if he had predicted it, someone would contact me with evidence to crucify Alfaro.

That came in on the same day as signing the divorce papers and a hard push from my editor, so maybe you can understand why I jumped in with both feet.

Anyway, I want you to have it. You have connections I don’t. ”

He inhaled as he took the drive from my hand. I lolled my head in his direction, watching him as he flipped it over a couple of times.

“Hopefully, it’s not damaged.”

“Do you know what’s on it?”

“Not really.” That wasn’t a lie.

“But you suspect.” He slipped the drive into his pocket.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Proof Fernando Alfaro is using Mercury Fulminate to assassinate his enemies.”

Nothing should shock me about the man. “I don’t know. The source I met with told me to look up the compound. I had, but had no clue what it meant. You already knew.”

“I was told there was a possibility Alfaro had gotten into explosives. The compound was mentioned. If what you have is indeed proof, your friends won’t have died in vain.”

“But that’s not what they signed up for. I left that part out from my editor and from my colleagues. I thought it best they didn’t know.”

“They knew you, Charmaine, and believed in you. It’s time for you to believe in yourself.” He rose to his feet, standing over me and holding out his hand.

I debated telling him I didn’t want to be around him, but that would just be another lie. I grasped his hand, holding my breath as he pulled me to my feet. With one hand wrapped around the edges of the towel, I offered a smile. “Thank you for caring.”

“You’re welcome.”

We stared at each other.

The heat became oppressive.

Desire tingling every nerve ending.

Lust filled his eyes, just as had occurred inside the damp cave.

“You’re wrong about something else,” he offered.

“What’s that?”

“A lot of people would miss you if you were gone. Don’t spiral into the darkness, Charmaine.

Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.

Once the darkness takes hold, there will be nothing left.

The vortex will drain what’s left of your soul, keeping you locked away in a prison with no possibility of escape.

I don’t want that for you. Not for anyone.

Live. The gift you’ve been offered from the gods is to choose life. You won’t get another chance.”

The words were so unexpected, so full of emotion that I was overwhelmed. And something inside me stirred, a feeling I’d lost a long time ago and one I was intent on never feeling again.

The longing to feel alive in every way, to breathe in the revelry of passion. The very sensations I’d felt the night before.

I pressed my hand against his chest, staring up at him. When he lowered his head, another wave of delicious tingles swept through me.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he said.

“I know, but I want to feel alive again, Maddox. If only for a little while. I need a reason.”

His breath was labored and his eyes had turned glassy.

As he debated, I loosened the hold on the towel.

And allowed it to fall to the floor.