by Kat Mizera
“King Anwar… He sends men, to the villages. They took my husband from our home, beat him until he told them we were sharing supplies, with the other farmers…” She lost her breath, coughing until blood dripped from her lips.
Liz dug out a cloth of some kind and gently wiped her mouth while Ace scoured the area, making sure no one surprised us.
“My baby,” the woman whispered. “I tried to escape in the car after they killed my husband but we turned over… I left her in the woods, in a brown blanket, by a tree with a swing.”
“We’ll get her,” I said. “Where can we take you?”
“It is too late for me. Please, save my daughter.” She coughed up more blood and then she was still, her eyes wide open, staring at nothing.
“Jesus.” Liz closed the woman’s eyes and got to her feet. “There’s nothing else we can do. Let’s get out of here.”
“She said she left her baby in the woods, by a tree with a swing.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I repeated what the woman had told me about Anwar. “You guys stay here; I’m going to look for the baby. If I can’t find her within a few minutes, we’ll go.”
“We need to go now,” Ace said sharply.
“I’m not driving away knowing there’s a helpless baby a few feet from here,” I shot back, jogging into the woods without waiting for a reply.
“Shit.” I heard Liz behind me.
“Did she recognize you?” she asked.
“Seems like it.”
“So you’ll need to be more careful from now on.”
“I don’t know that I should come back to Limaj for a while,” I admitted. “Both this woman now and Jesper two years ago recognized me, which means I’m still relevant.”
“Which is good and bad.”
“How is it good?” I asked, shining my flashlight around to get a feel for the area.
“It’s good because people still have hope, which means they won’t stop fighting.”
“And bad?”
“Your cover could be blown, and Anwar will never stop trying to kill you.”
“Now there’s a pleasant thought.” I spied a tree swing and hurried in that direction. Sure enough, there was a bundle swaddled in a brown blanket, set beneath the tree and half-covered with leaves. I bent down and lifted the baby, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully, despite being essentially abandoned in the woods.
“What do we do with her?” Liz asked. “You think there’s an orphanage in Ankara?”
“Probably.” I held the baby against me as we walked back to the truck, where Ace was already behind the wheel and ready to go.
I got in the back and held the baby as we took off. I don’t know what had made me go after her, but it had felt important at the time. It still did. She blinked awake and stared at me, confusion on her little face. She couldn’t be more than a year old and she seemed perfectly content to be in the arms of a stranger. She had big blue eyes and there were blond curls sticking out from under the knit cap she had on her head.
“She’s adorable,” Liz said, crawling back to join us.
“So calm. Aren’t babies usually freaked out by strangers at this age?”
Liz shrugged. “I don’t know that much about them, to be honest, but she sure seems taken with you.”
“I don’t know much about them either.” I stared down at the baby, wondering what my life would have been like if none of this had happened, if I was just a guy in love with his wife and son. I slipped into that train of thought too often, and I shook it off, trying to stay on task. We had to get out of Limaj, find somewhere to leave this baby, and get back to Monte Carlo. Those were the goals and all I was allowed to think about until they were accomplished.
Finding the baby a home turned out to be more complicated than we’d thought. Orphanages in Turkey were overflowing, and the conditions were horrendous. The clandestine inquiries we’d made yielded horrifying results and there was no way in hell I was leaving her at any of those places. Maybe things were different in Istanbul, but we weren’t there and didn’t have a lot of time to check it out.
“Can the CIA fix it so we can take her back to Monte Carlo with us?” I asked Liz after two days of frustrating searches.
“Think about what you’re suggesting. It’s not—”
“It’s not what? Convenient?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not convenient at all. We can’t just bring her home with us.”
“Why not?” I was feeling surly.
“Well, because she’s not ours, she’s not really anyone’s, and she needs a home, a family.”
“And she’ll get that in a Turkish orphanage?”
“It’s heartbreaking, it is, but we can’t save them all. There are thousands of children all over the world that lose their parents every day.”
“We can’t save them all,” I agreed. “But we can save this one.”
She stared at me. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“I understand you’ve lost a lot in the last few years, including a family of your own, but she can’t be a replacement.”
“Not a replacement, an addition.”
“To what?”
“Our family.”
“Our family?”
“The CIA has continued to nag us to get married and it’s inevitable, so why not adopt her too?”
“I…” Her mouth opened and she frowned. “This is crazy, Erik.”
I opted not to say anything and merely watched as she mulled it all over in her mind. She started to pace, muttering under her breath and finally turning to me again, hands on her hips. “Are you sure you’re ready for all this? Because I’m not going to be a stand-in for Casey.”
“Nor am I a stand-in for Ricky.” I knew what she was thinking but this was about survival. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I needed someone to love again, and this little girl desperately needed someone to love her. Liz and I might not be in love, but we could both love this child.
I took a breath and reached for her hand with my free one, pulling her closer. “Look at her. Who else does she have? And truthfully, who else do we have? If neither of us are capable of romantic love again, we can still be a loving family. Can’t we?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it.” She met my eyes warily. “But is this really what you want? Every time the CIA has brought up us getting married, you’ve pushed back hard. There’s no reason you can’t be a single father if you’re that anxious to give her a home. I’m not sure what I add to the equation.”
“She needs a mother too, and a family. All kids do. I mean, sure, I can take her on my own, but you and I are already partners professionally. We live and work together—this would be the most logical next step. Don’t you think?”
She looked torn, with more indecision on her face than I’d ever seen in her.
“I have to think about it,” she said finally. “In the meantime, I’ll tell Langley that we’re not having any luck with orphanages and that we don’t want to just dump her off somewhere.”
“Take some time then,” I said quietly. “And we’ll talk about it again tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
I sat up with the baby, rocking her until she dozed off. She was a little fussy today and we weren’t sure why. She seemed healthy enough, but we had no way of knowing if she’d been breastfed or what she normally ate. We’d contacted a doctor at Langley who told us to keep what we fed her light, in case she wasn’t used to solid food. There may not have been much available to her in Limaj and if her mother had solely breastfed her, solid food needed to be introduced slowly.
I stared down at her, taking in the soft curve of her lips and the unruly curls that formed a gentle halo around her face. I wasn’t stupid. I was fully aware that a large percentage of the reason I’d reacted so strongly to this baby was because I’d lost my own. I didn’t know if I would ever have feelings for another woman and, barring that, gi
ving my love to a child that had no one else seemed perfectly logical. Maybe not for Liz, but I was already invested in this little girl so I would do it on my own if I had to. I didn’t want that for her, though, and Liz would be a great mother if she simply allowed herself to feel something. She was as tightly wound as I was, which was why we were able to co-exist in a completely platonic relationship. It had been two years and we’d never shared so much as a kiss or held hands except for a few times on missions when we needed to blend in to the crowd.
“How is she?” Liz’s voice in the semidarkness was soft.
“She’s dozing,” I whispered. “Every time I try to put her down she starts to cry, so I figured I’ll hold her.”
Liz ran tender fingers along the baby’s face. “She’s beautiful.”
“She is.”
Her eyes met mine. “When Ricky died, I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Liz, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“It’s okay. Only a handful of people ever knew about it.” She sank onto the floor next to my legs, gently stroking the baby’s hair, staring off at nothing.
“What happened?” I asked softly.
“I miscarried a week after we buried him. I didn’t think I would ever recover, I was so heartbroken.”
“Is that why you went into field work?”
She nodded. “It was my father’s idea. He and my mother were worried, they’d never seen me so distraught. I’d said some overly dramatic things, you know, the things you say when you’re hurting, like ‘I don’t think I can do this’ and ‘I wish I’d died instead.’ So my father pointed out that field work would be not just a good distraction, but if something happened to me at least my death would have meaning.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Your father said that?”
She smiled. “He didn’t mean it that way. He was trying to get through to me, snap me out of my funk. I don’t think he thought I would do exactly what he suggested and try to get myself killed. Except they paired me up with Ace my first few assignments and he kept me out of trouble. Then I got really good at what I did and it stopped being about the risk and became about the missions, helping people.”
“I’m glad. It would have been a shame if we’d never met.”
“I’d resigned myself to never being a mother,” she continued talking slowly. “I don’t know if I’m equipped for it. Especially with the line of work I’m in.”
“I can’t make that decision for you. You have to want to, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”
“We don’t really have a lot of time for me to make a decision,” she said, “because we’ll have to get headquarters involved to bring her into Monte Carlo. If we do this, it has to be legit because we can’t just invent papers for a baby that’s going to be ours.”
“Of course not. If you don’t think you want to do this, I’ll call Dean and see if I can make it happen on my own, but I think we’d make a nice life for ourselves and for this little girl since both of us are so emotionally compromised.”
“At the end of the day, I don’t want you to feel trapped,” she said, looking at me. “I know you’re still in love with Casey and I don’t want to be part of a new family you’re going to resent at some point.”
“That’s not going to happen. I want to be this little girl’s father. I can’t explain why—it was just a feeling I got the moment I picked her up—but I feel it deep in my heart and I can’t walk away from her. I think she needs a mother too, but just like you don’t want me to be resentful, I don’t want you to be either.”
“I won’t.” She smiled. “You’ve talked me into it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Maybe this little girl will help both of us heal, you know? There are lots of different ways to be family.”
“That there are.”
“Okay, then, we’ll call Langley in the morning, see what they can do.”
“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m just going to sit up with her for a while.”
“She’s already got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” Liz slowly rose to her feet.
“Maybe.” I smiled and looked down at the baby girl sleeping in my arms, making her a silent promise I would always take care of her. I’d dropped the ball on that with someone else, but I wouldn’t do it again.
21
Casey
Jayson and I met for a drink the night before I was leaving New York. Sandor came with us but sat at the other end of the bar by himself, keeping an eye on me while giving me a little privacy. I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject I had in mind with Jayson, but I’d thought of nothing else since we’d played together a few nights ago.
“Hey, good to see you.” Jayson came in wearing all black, his crazy whiskey-colored hair flying in every direction as he hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.
I felt a tiny spark as his lips grazed my skin, as if something was awakening, but I tamped it down with a reminder that I needed to focus on the music.
“You too.” I ordered a Jack and Coke and he did the same.
We made small talk for a few minutes and then I just spit it out. “So I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.”
“How would you feel about recording an album with me and a couple of musicians I know?”
“I… You want me to sing on an album for you?”
“I’ve been thinking about forming a new band and I want you to be our lead singer.”
His eyes darkened and he took a swig of the drink he’d ordered. “I’ve been a huge fan of yours since the beginning,” he said at last. “When I heard that Lucas Hart’s daughter had a band, and that she was a guitar player, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The first time I heard you play I was blown away—”
“When was that?” I interrupted curiously.
“Live? You were seventeen or eighteen, I think, Viktim’s first album, opening for your dad on that limited date tour.”
I nodded. “You saw me here in New York?”
“And then again in Philly and D.C.”
“Wow.”
“I was enamored, both musically and physically. You’re stunning, even more so in person, but the first time I saw you on stage I fell a little bit in love with you. When your father actually called me, saying he was interested in doing a demo tape with my band, all I could think was that I might get the chance to meet you. It wasn’t about sex or anything—you were involved and I’m not much of a prize—but the idea of meeting you, getting to know you, was the most exciting thing to ever happen to me. Then I met you and—”
“Wait, did you say you’re not much of a prize?” I was trying to wrap my head around everything he was saying since he was talking really fast. “What are you talking about? You’re incredibly talented. Your voice is downright hypnotic and when you’re up on stage, your whole persona is pure fucking magic. I was mesmerized when I watched you the other night.”
He smiled. “Oh, I’ve got it going on musically, for sure, but we both know I’m not the kind of pretty boy you usually go for.”
“I don’t go for pretty boys or rugged boys or bad boys,” I said quietly. “I go for men who treat me well. Who bring something to the table that I can’t get anywhere else, who make me feel alive.”
“Do I make you feel alive?” He spoke hesitantly, as if completely shocked that was even a possibility.
Sweet Jesus, what kind of question was that? I was coming up on the three-year anniversary of Erik’s death and now this attractive, talented, sexy man wanted to know if he made me feel alive. How could I explain that would never happen, no matter how much I wanted it to, and that he would have to settle for simply making me feel something, anything, as opposed to the nothing at all I’d felt for nearly three years now.
“It’s okay,” he said when I didn’t answer right away. “I understand. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
“No. Wait. You don’t understand.” I downed the rest of my drin
k and motioned the bartender for another, waiting for the liquid to burn its way through my esophagus, reminding me that I was still here, still breathing, still a woman who could feel even if she didn’t want to.
“You don’t have to explain anything. I get it.”
“No, you don’t.” I took a breath. “You have no idea what this has been like.”
“Getting divorced?”
Oh, hell. This was another problem. How did I explain the truth without outing my son? I couldn’t, which left me in a risky situation.
“Being publicly humiliated on my wedding day, marrying a man I was forced to marry because I got knocked up instead of the one I loved… And then Erik passing away.” I decided it was possible to tell him I loved Erik without telling him he was Luke’s father.
“I don’t…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve taken everything I heard through the grapevine about all that with a grain of salt. I’m sure there was some reality and some embellishment and the truth was somewhere in the middle.”
“Absolutely. So…the truth is that I loved Erik. More than anything in the world. I, we, Nick and I, had been together on and off for years, since we were teenagers, and I didn’t know about the baby until it was too late.” That was mostly true.
“So you loved the prince but he was upset that the baby was Nick’s?”
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. This was as close to the truth as I could get without endangering Luke, so I nodded. If Jayson was a spy sent by King Anwar then I wasn’t going to survive the next fifty years or so anyway. As long as Luke was safe, I’d roll the dice on myself if it meant a chance at a little bit of happiness.
“And then he died without forgiving you or having a chance to make up.”
I nodded again.
“I’m sorry. That must be awful.”
“It has been, so it’s not that I’m not attracted to you. I’m simply not ready yet. Not for dating or, or anything like that. But I came here to ask you if you were interested in playing in a band with me—and getting to know each other at the same time.”
Our eyes met and when I looked into his I saw raw honesty, sincerity, curiosity, and a touch of desire. It was refreshing to be curious about a man again, intrigued by him both personally and professionally. I’d never thought it would be possible, but here we were.
