Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Suspense,
Romance,
Contemporary,
ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE,
Fiction - Romance,
Romantic Suspense Fiction,
American Light Romantic Fiction,
Romance - Contemporary,
Romance - General
didn’t reply, he added, “Is it the reason you do what you do?”
“Look, I don’t bug you on your issues, so do me a favor and don’t bug me on mine.”
His mouth closed and he just met her gaze. Then he said, “Angie was killed because of me.”
She abandoned the package of freeze-dried food and gave him her full attention. “Why?”
Again, he just met her gaze.
“What happened?”
“I interfered with the wrong people.”
“Ammar?”
“He was one of them.”
“So, your sister was killed because you tried to do something good? Something right?”
“You don’t know me,” he said, annoyance giving his tone an edge.
“Terrorists deserve to die.” This time it was her who couldn’t keep the emotion out of her voice.
“It doesn’t matter what they are to me.”
She searched his face for a lie and didn’t find one. He wasn’t discriminating about who he killed. If they crossed his path…
It sent a shiver of foreboding through her. She turned back to the package of freeze-dried food and dumped it into a bowl. Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe this feeling she had—that he’d been thrown into circumstances that had gotten out of control—was off.
“What did you do in the Army? Before you went to work for the great and honorable Cullen McQueen?” he asked.
“What’s wrong with being great and honorable?”
“Nothing, so long as we don’t confuse controversial with honor. I’ve never understood why men like me get the bad reputation while men like McQueen get all the good press. We do the same thing, really. Kill people for shady causes. My missions may not have always been for the governing side, but I always knew who the innocents were.”
“Then you aren’t any different than other men who fight for humanity.”
He grunted and sipped more whiskey.
“What happened with your sister?” she asked.
“What happened to make you work for a secret counterterror outfit?”
She wasn’t hungry anymore. “You want to eat, make your own dinner.” She went over to one of the single beds and debated whether she wanted to lie on it. When was the last time it was washed? Who’d lain on it last?
“Answer my question, I’ll answer yours,” he said.
A familiar, ugly sensation filled her. What scared her most was she felt compelled to tell him. That connection thing again. That feeling they had something important in common, no matter how grim its source. Would telling him help her let go? Why him? Why couldn’t it have been Travis?
Travis had never pushed her. He was always too careful with her. Rem was…different. He didn’t coddle her. Didn’t treat her like a victim.
“I don’t remember all of it,” she finally said, unable to stop whatever drew her. “I was a field artillery surveyor in the Army when our convoy was attacked.” What came next was a lot harder to say. She turned and sat on the bed, looking down at the floor. The last time she’d told anyone this was after her rescue. She’d never repeated it to anyone. “Our vehicle was trapped by debris after an explosion. We were overtaken by insurgents while we were stopped. Everyone was killed but me.” She hesitated. “Two of the insurgents captured me.”
Rem leaned his head back on the chair and didn’t interrupt her.
Images of the two insurgents coming after her were forever emblazoned in her mind. “They took me to an abandoned building and used their guns to beat me. I don’t remember what happened after that.” But that was where patches of the terror haunted her. “The next thing I do remember is a group of soldiers coming into the building and carrying me out on a stretcher. I was flown to a German hospital where I was treated, then sent home.” She couldn’t speak about what the doctors had told her. About the horrific abuses her body had suffered and that her mind had blocked out.
Rem didn’t ask if she was raped and that relieved her. She didn’t think she’d be able to answer, anyway.
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