“You did what?” Panic beat in my chest. Hell, I’d thought everything was clear. I’d thought Ian was safe.
“I tried, but it didn’t work. That’s what I’m saying. I hit a wall from every angle. Someone from higher up is putting a lid on this entire case. They’re shutting it down. It’s a cover up.”
I felt mildly nauseous. Worry and relief were a volatile mix, combusting in my stomach. “A cover up?”
“Yeah, I mean, at first I thought it might be about you. Covering up that one of their agents got captured.” A red stain colored his cheeks. “That was my fault. They should have fired me. Or brought me up on charges.”
“Lance,” I protested in surprise.
“I was the one who got knocked out, and when I woke up you were gone. I should have been more careful. I should have protected you.” He turned away, heaving a breath, and I saw how much this had torn him up.
I put a hand on his arm. “Lance, I don’t blame you. This wasn’t your fault. You’ve been a good friend to me.”
“I’m sure you thought that when we were in Brody’s office,” he said bitterly.
“I was pissed,” I admitted. “But I know you were doing what you thought was right. Look, it was a shitty situation, but it’s over now.”
He looked sad and a little lost. “Is it? You’re not coming back. Things won’t be the same.”
No, things could never go back to the way they were. But this was how they needed to be. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, ending more than the conversation. Ending a friendship.
He looked at me. He looked away. Quickly, he bent down and kissed my cheek. He murmured in my ear, “Just watch out for yourself, okay? The cover up could have come from Carlos’s people. There’s still a chance he tipped them off.”
Regret swelled inside my chest. God, he was so smart. So caring. And so not for me. On impulse, I kissed his cheek too.
“I’m fine,” I promised him. “Better than I’ve ever been. Now go be an agent. I know you’re a great one.”
“I did get assigned a case,” he said shyly. Then he grumbled, “Would have been more fun with you as my partner. The one I have wants me to pick up his dry cleaning.”
I grinned. “Pick up his dry cleaning and solve the case.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile fell. “Bye, Samantha.”
My throat closed up, and I could only nod in acknowledgement as he got in his car and left.
I sighed, leaning my forehead against the porch pillar. That was rough. He was a nice guy. A good friend. I would have preferred to keep in touch, but that would never do. Not as long as Ian was in my life.
But how long would that be for? We’d joked about private islands, but no promises had been made. I didn’t even know him.
No, that was a lie. I did know him. I could have dated a guy and seen the clean-cut buttoned-up side of him for five years and still not have known him as well as I knew Ian now. I knew the side of him that kidnapped people, that hurt them. I knew the side that saved lives. I even knew the kicked-back casual side of him, down-to-earth and curiously solicitous in my kitchen. And in every incarnation, I felt the warmth of his attention. That much was constant. That was his love.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I had proved, to myself and to Ian, what I really wanted when I turned Lance away on the porch. But in doing so, I had stripped myself down and bared my deepest desires. Not the innocent fairytale I’d always claimed to want, but the shadows beneath it.
My dream wasn’t to be a princess in a castle. I wanted to be Persephone, claimed by the god of the underworld. Except that was the thing about getting captured; it wasn’t up to me.
I couldn’t look at Hennessey as I passed him. I went straight to the shower and turned the knob to scalding.
My head pounded with regret and longing, with betrayal and hope for a future I didn’t deserve. Ian didn’t deserve it either, so we couldn’t even bank on his karmic balance. This white picket house and his dreams of an island were fantasies we spun. Reality was being alone and afraid. Reality was standing underneath a pounding spray of hot water but knowing I’d never really be clean.
The bathroom door opened silently, spilling cool air onto my overheated skin. The shower curtain was a fabric boho confection I’d ordered online, because I sought out everything older than me, everything sweeter and poignant. But even my attempts to be normal were twisted into a parody of romance. Tattered lace and patent leather shoes with red spray across them. I didn’t know how to be what society wanted from me. I couldn’t change myself, not even for him.
He was naked. I could tell from the warm hair-roughened feel of him—his chest against my back, his arms circling mine. Something firm and hot nudging my ass. His mouth bent to my ear.
“What did Lance have to say?” Ian asked.
I swallowed, feeling sick to my stomach. “He warned me to stay away from you.”
“I see. And end up with him instead, I’m guessing. Would you ride off into the sunset together?”