Read Online Cease and Desist (The IMA Book 4) by Nenia Campbell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nenia Campbell
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number of things. Sex. Power. Money. Infamy. I'd already gotten away with murder.
At this point, I'd be willing to settle for my life.
Christina
I didn't stick around after the debriefing. There was no reason to — Michael had made that clear. More than clear. If Suraya wanted to gift wrap herself for the devil, she could do it without my blessing.
What would that even sound like, anyway? Good luck, I hope you don't have to have sex with too many of our enemies — oh, and thanks a lot?
Even in my head, that sounded terrible.
Unforgivable.
What was she even thinking ?
But that was the thing. I knew exactly what Suraya had been thinking, because it was the same thing all of us had been thinking in that cramped, stifling room. Please, God, let someone else do it, don't let it be me, please, for the love of God, not me.
And for one terrible moment, I thought it would be me. Somebody had to do it, and with only three women, the odds weren't exactly in my favor. I was the youngest, and privy to the fewest secrets.
More damning still, Adrian Callaghan had made a point of showing that he was interested in me. His 'interest' had probably put more than a few women in body bags, but what did that matter, if I was but one insignificant cog in a much larger machine? Michael was a mercenary. He would understand. Hell, I'd half-convinced myself that this was the reason for the covert meetings with Angelica. Betrayal.
I shuddered, rubbing at the insides of my wrists. Even if I wouldn't have to sleep with Adrian himself, just the mere thought of having sex with a stranger made me recoil with a deeply-ingrained disgust only twenty-one years of Catholic guilt can accomplish.
I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it, even if they asked me. But if they did ask, and I refused, what would they do? Simply go down the line until someone said yes? What if they all said no, too? What made my “no” worth more than theirs?
Nothing.
The relief I'd felt when Suraya volunteered wrapped around me like a warm, comforting blanket — until I'd caught Angelica looking at me as though she could read all the selfish thoughts going through my head as clearly as if they were written out in bright flashing marquee lights.
Then a terrible guilt crashed over me, breaking like a wave to soak me clear through with self-loathing — and more guilt. I was very, very good at feeling guilty. And just as lightning always chases the thunder, so does anger chase guilt: anger, and the excuses I needed to justify myself and repair my ego. Because if there is something Catholics do almost as well as guilt, it's self-rationalization.
Unlike them, I'd never wanted to be a part of this world. I'd been brought into it kicking and screaming. Only luck, and resilience I hadn't even known I'd possessed until I'd been forced to use it, had kept me alive. I was good at staying alive. That, and computers. My bag of tricks totaled two.
For me, this mission would be suicide, because I knew I wouldn't be able to survive against so many odds. I didn't have the experience, or the training, even though Michael had taught me basic self-defense. Even though I technically outranked Cliff and Angelica and Suraya.
And that brought me back full circle to why Suraya's noble sacrifice at the meeting had made me feel so feverishly ashamed.
As one of the leaders, I should be just as vested in our efforts as the other members, if not more so — and yet, I had ducked my head and turned tail at the crucial moment, forcing someone else to step up to the plate. Because in my heart of hearts, hadn't I thought to myself that there was no way Michael would ever let me go? Hadn't I thought that?
Oh yes, I had … I was so selfish.
The more I thought about the situation and my handling of it, the angrier I became at myself, which made me resent Suraya all the more. On and on it went, this cyclic carousel of guilt and resentment, until I felt crushed by its tremendous weight. The elephant
At this point, I'd be willing to settle for my life.
Christina
I didn't stick around after the debriefing. There was no reason to — Michael had made that clear. More than clear. If Suraya wanted to gift wrap herself for the devil, she could do it without my blessing.
What would that even sound like, anyway? Good luck, I hope you don't have to have sex with too many of our enemies — oh, and thanks a lot?
Even in my head, that sounded terrible.
Unforgivable.
What was she even thinking ?
But that was the thing. I knew exactly what Suraya had been thinking, because it was the same thing all of us had been thinking in that cramped, stifling room. Please, God, let someone else do it, don't let it be me, please, for the love of God, not me.
And for one terrible moment, I thought it would be me. Somebody had to do it, and with only three women, the odds weren't exactly in my favor. I was the youngest, and privy to the fewest secrets.
More damning still, Adrian Callaghan had made a point of showing that he was interested in me. His 'interest' had probably put more than a few women in body bags, but what did that matter, if I was but one insignificant cog in a much larger machine? Michael was a mercenary. He would understand. Hell, I'd half-convinced myself that this was the reason for the covert meetings with Angelica. Betrayal.
I shuddered, rubbing at the insides of my wrists. Even if I wouldn't have to sleep with Adrian himself, just the mere thought of having sex with a stranger made me recoil with a deeply-ingrained disgust only twenty-one years of Catholic guilt can accomplish.
I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it, even if they asked me. But if they did ask, and I refused, what would they do? Simply go down the line until someone said yes? What if they all said no, too? What made my “no” worth more than theirs?
Nothing.
The relief I'd felt when Suraya volunteered wrapped around me like a warm, comforting blanket — until I'd caught Angelica looking at me as though she could read all the selfish thoughts going through my head as clearly as if they were written out in bright flashing marquee lights.
Then a terrible guilt crashed over me, breaking like a wave to soak me clear through with self-loathing — and more guilt. I was very, very good at feeling guilty. And just as lightning always chases the thunder, so does anger chase guilt: anger, and the excuses I needed to justify myself and repair my ego. Because if there is something Catholics do almost as well as guilt, it's self-rationalization.
Unlike them, I'd never wanted to be a part of this world. I'd been brought into it kicking and screaming. Only luck, and resilience I hadn't even known I'd possessed until I'd been forced to use it, had kept me alive. I was good at staying alive. That, and computers. My bag of tricks totaled two.
For me, this mission would be suicide, because I knew I wouldn't be able to survive against so many odds. I didn't have the experience, or the training, even though Michael had taught me basic self-defense. Even though I technically outranked Cliff and Angelica and Suraya.
And that brought me back full circle to why Suraya's noble sacrifice at the meeting had made me feel so feverishly ashamed.
As one of the leaders, I should be just as vested in our efforts as the other members, if not more so — and yet, I had ducked my head and turned tail at the crucial moment, forcing someone else to step up to the plate. Because in my heart of hearts, hadn't I thought to myself that there was no way Michael would ever let me go? Hadn't I thought that?
Oh yes, I had … I was so selfish.
The more I thought about the situation and my handling of it, the angrier I became at myself, which made me resent Suraya all the more. On and on it went, this cyclic carousel of guilt and resentment, until I felt crushed by its tremendous weight. The elephant
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