“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to live this way all the time.” Maylin gave in to honesty and the release of tension had her babbling. “You live in this state of constant vigilance. It’s exhausting to watch. There’s news articles about PTSD and how people live in a state of hyperawareness. I always tried to imagine what it was like, but until all of this, it never sank in. It’s all the time. Everywhere. How do you not go insane?”
Gabe sighed. “It isn’t a sudden thing that’ll be cured by a session of therapy. It doesn’t go away someday or get better. It’s a shift in worldview, a change in the way you look at everything around you. The first time I came home from a deployment, fuck, I wanted so bad to change my state of mind. I did. But I ended up going back overseas because things made better sense to me over there.”
His words were raw and yet his outward expression was blank. She wanted to have this discussion somewhere private where he could let his control ease up and let his emotions show on his face. But this was where they’d gotten into the topic and this was where she’d learn. And to be honest, she didn’t know exactly where they were. They’d driven on and off a combination of city streets and larger highways but it’d all been in a generally circular direction. At the very least, it was just the two of them. He’d have told her if someone was following.
“Did it help, going back overseas?” Not sure it was the right question to ask.
“It made more sense. It was simpler to follow the rules out there. There’s a system to it. People have skills, have their role to play, and they do their job or everyone on the team could die.” Gabe hesitated, then added, “I trust my fire squad. Lizzy, Vic and Marc. And I used to trust every member of my squadron. But when Jewel deserted, it left the entire squadron shaken up. The Centurions took a while to reassess every person in the squadron and the trust is still building. That’s twenty active individuals all looking around, wondering if they can rely on their teammates.”
To do their job, or everyone could die. Maylin swallowed hard.
“It wasn’t until later the forensics evidence came back confirming the bullet in me came from her weapon. We decided to keep it under wraps until we knew where she’d gone and, hopefully, why.”
“Edict?” She hoped she was remembering the organization correctly. Jewel had spat it out quickly, with such a tone of bitterness, Maylin wondered how she could stand the taste of it.
“Apparently.” Gabe nodded with a grim smile. “I’m still wondering about the reason. But I might not get that answer anytime soon. Simple answer would be better money, but with Jewel it’s not always about the ready cash. She could have other reasons.”
Or he hoped she did. It was unsaid and Maylin decided to let it lie for now. It wouldn’t help to continue to poke at the sore subject when there was no way to find out more.
She wanted to dismiss everything that was happening as fantastical. It sounded like a television show. A book. Not real. But wasn’t that the mistake people made? Her stepmother had told her if An-mei had disappeared, it must have been because An-mei had behaved irresponsibly going out on her own, and people didn’t just disappear from science conferences. “Overly dramatic” was exactly what Maylin’s stepmother had called her, and she wouldn’t believe anything bad had happened.
But it had. It was reality. And so was the life Gabe led.
“Was Jewel really baiting me?” Maylin’s hopes dropped to the floor at her feet. “Maybe she didn’t know anything about An-mei.”
Gabe tapped the top of the steering wheel with a finger. “Possibly. But then again, she doesn’t lie straight to my face. I think she was telling the truth back there.”
Which part was he referring to and where was the white rabbit? It was safer to latch on to the connection between Jewel and Gabe.
“I need a little clearer communication here. I got the impression the two of you were fine, what with the witty repartee, but I need a little more straightforward detail.” Maylin paused. It’d been nerve-racking listening, watching, unable to do anything. “So if she was telling the truth, you mean she could’ve shot you in the head at some point?”
And was there a chance Maylin could end up with a hole in the head herself?
“Probably.” Gabe’s jaw tightened. “There’s a history there.”
“I want to say I don’t need to know, but I’m running a little low on faith considering the way she oozed sex in your direction.” And Maylin hated admitting it. Hadn’t even acknowledged it herself until she’d said it out loud. She might not have done a lot of dating in her time but even she could see the tension between the two of them had been more than just former acquaintances or colleagues. “I don’t even know where we’re going right now. I need more information. About everything.”
“We’re headed to Centurion Corporation headquarters.” Gabe’s response was sober, which was good because if he’d laughed at her, the twisting insecurity she was struggling to control would rip something inside her. After a pause, he continued, “We were a thing. It was a while ago.”