He sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
I snort and roll my eyes, but he cuts off my reaction. “The records show their unit was supposed to be somewhere else that day. Grant and the guy with him that day both claim they were given orders to move locations. There is no proof of that anywhere. Those type of orders are detailed in writing and there’s no evidence whatsoever they were told to go into another area, especially an area where we aren’t authorized.”
“But if they weren’t ordered there, why would they have been there?”
“I wish I knew, Brynne. It would solve a lot of problems. There are many theories, but none of them have any proof.”
I watch his face darken. “So when I was meeting Grant, you already knew who he was.”
“Yes,” he admits, looking defeated. “But I had run a background check on him after he got back to the States. We’ve been watching him, trying to see if he does something that gives us some sort of idea what happened over there. But we’ve got nothing, other than he has a new car, a new apartment.” Fenton shrugs. “But I don’t trust the guy. I don’t like him. And I sure as hell don’t want you around him.”
Blowing out a breath, my shoulders sag with the weight of my world.
“You have to know that I’m doing everything I can to get your brother back. And I was doing that before I met you.”
He kneels in front of me, his hands on my lap. I want to brush him away, push him back, but I don’t. His closeness gives me strength, comforts me, even though I don’t want it to. I don’t reach out to him, I make no effort to make him think he should try anything more. But I let him stay like he is.
“Can you get him back?” I ask.
“I’m doing everything I can legally.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are things I can’t do. It’s against the law for me to negotiate with Nekuti because they’re technically terrorists. I can’t have an open dialogue with them on the record. Everything I do is supposed to be through the pre-approved channels.” He hesitates. “If I get caught even trying to reach them through my sources in Africa, I could be put in prison, Brynne. I’d definitely lose Mandla. There’s a lot on the line. I have to try to work the system on the ground to get him out, but with the laws we have to work under, both American and Zimbabwean, it’s . . . difficult.”
“So my brother just sits and rots then? Because no one can figure out how to get him back?”
He lifts up to a standing position, his face somber. “I’m doing everything I can.”
“Try fucking harder.”
“Do you hate me now?”
“Yes.”
His head falls forward and I feel bad for saying that. But I’m so damn angry, so hurt, so betrayed that I don’t care enough to take my words back.
“Can I ask you something?” he asks, his words floating on a bead of hope.
“Sure. I, unlike you, will answer.”
He starts to retort something cocky, but wisely refrains. Instead, he says, “If I hadn’t had a tie with Brady, if there was no connection at all, where would you be right now?”
A small, sad smile slides across my face. I wanted to be with him, in his bed, on the balcony—anywhere. Just with him.
“Come home with me, Brynne,” he breathes.
I look at the blankets, unable to see the grief on his face. I can’t trust him. I can’t betray Brady by being with him. I can’t. So I shake my head no.
“Will you see me tomorrow?” he asks.
“I won’t see you again, Fenton,” I say, summoning the courage to continue. To do what has to be done. “Ever.”
The words break me, destroy me, and I grab a pillow and sob into it. My world falls apart while he watches me.
He doesn’t make a move to comfort me and that’s just as well. It would only make feeling him pull away hurt even more.
“I can’t watch you cry,” he says, his voice breaking. “Not knowing I did this.”
“Then leave,” I hiccup.
“Come with me. Come home, let me take care of you. Please, rudo.”
Using the back of my hand, I wipe the tears and snot off my face. It’s not my most ladylike gesture, but I’m in survival mode. “You told me to trust you. You said that to me once. Do you remember?”
He nods, dragging in a deep breath.
“I did. I trusted you. Why I did, I’ll never know because you seemed too good to be true.” A little laugh rolls out, a laugh at my own stupidity. “You were like all these little checkboxes marked off in one man, and you, for whatever reason, liked me.”
“I—”
I hold up a hand, silencing him. “It was way too easy to trust you. To just see wherever this ended up. And now . . . I see this whole thing was built on the biggest lie—”
“I didn’t lie to you!”
“Omissions are lies!” I shout right back. “You just pulled me in, all the while knowing I hated you! I just didn’t know it was you!”