“I’m so sorry, Honor,” he whispered. “I love you. I’ll always love you. Only you. There’ll never be another I love as I love you. I’m so damn sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed. That I couldn’t be a good man for you. I hope you find happiness. That I haven’t forever destroyed something so very precious. The world needs more people like you, Honor. It needs your kindness, your spirit, fire and courage. And your compassion. All the things I lack, but just for a little while got to experience what those things felt like through you. Be happy, my love. And live. Live.”
Knowing if he didn’t walk away now, he’d never be able to, he reluctantly rose, allowing his fingers to linger in her hair, trailing down to the very end of the tresses until finally they fell away. He felt the loss as keenly as if she’d died.
He’d never touch her again. Never kiss her, hold her, be enveloped by her sweetness, nor would he ever see her radiant smile that rivaled a sunrise.
Closing his eyes, he turned and walked to the front and then down the steps to the paved runway. He knew what he looked like. Why the others refused to look at him. Because what they’d see was something terrifying. Too terrible to look upon. He’d never look in the mirror again, because without Honor, he knew he’d only see a soulless monster who’d robbed an innocent of everything.
“Let’s go,” he said in a voice he didn’t recognize.
CHAPTER 41
HONOR began the slow climb to awareness, signaling she was once again shrugging off the effects of a sedative. She’d been so adamant in the beginning about not being given them, not wanting anything to impair her. She needed sharp reflexes and clear thinking.
Now? It was a welcome respite and it really wasn’t so different from her nondrugged state, so she couldn’t really bring herself to care.
She opened her eyes and discovered she wasn’t on a plane anymore. She was in a bedroom. A nicely furnished bedroom with a really comfortable bed. A hysterical laugh began in her throat, but she stanched it. It reminded her of when she’d awakened in Bristow’s house, thinking she was safe, rescued.
She would never make that same mistake again. Never be so trusting and na?ve.
A sound had her slowly turning her head in its direction, disinterest reflected in her movements.
A tall, well-muscled man in a military uniform stood just inside the doorway. When he saw she was awake, he took a few steps forward but maintained a distance between himself and the bed. As though he feared scaring her? She had to bite her lip to prevent the hysterical laughter from bubbling up from her throat. She was beyond the frightened stage. Now she was simply accepting of her fate.
“Miss Cambridge, I’m Kyle Phillips of the United States Marine Corps. We intercepted an attempted exchange between a Russian arms dealer and a terrorist organization, and realizing you were a prisoner, we took the necessary steps to rescue you and get you back to the U.S.”
She merely blinked. Did he expect her to believe this bullshit? Furthermore, why bother to lie? Apparently monsters liked to play psychological games. Hancock was certainly a master at it.
“Until the terrorist organization is dismantled and Maksimov is eliminated, you’ll be under constant surveillance and around the clock protection. You are not a prisoner. You’re free to go anywhere in this house you wish. We also believe there to be a credible threat to your family, so until that threat is eliminated, we’ve arranged for their protection as well. But it’s imperative they not know you’re alive until after—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Honor muttered. “Until after all the bad guys are dead. Here’s a clue. They’ll never be dead. They were never alive. You can’t kill someone who doesn’t have a soul.”
The man, Kyle, as he’d introduced himself, frowned and studied her, something resembling concern reflected in his eyes.
“As soon as I’m given the go-ahead, I’ll take you to reunite with your family personally. You have my word.”
“Words are meaningless,” she said bitterly.