“I was asleep. Same thing.”
“We’re in Colorado.”
“Huh.”
He motioned for her to continue, since she was apparently going to talk nonstop the whole time they were here. Aaron briefly wondered if there were any noise-canceling headphones in the cabin.
“It’s just...I’ve been to Denver and all. So I’ve done the Colorado scene, but that was years ago. And I haven’t even been out of Phoenix since I moved there. It’s part of being in WITSEC. Not that you can’t vacation, but I’ve been to nearly every major city there is, so it doesn’t leave many options for traveling and meeting the requirements of witness protection so that I stay where people won’t recognize me.”
“You don’t camp?”
“Uh...no.” She shuddered hard enough it shook the couch.
“Fish?”
She shook her head.
“Surf?”
“I tried it once. I couldn’t stand up. Like, at all. It was too wobbly, then I hit my head on the board and I thought I was going to throw up. It wasn’t a good experience.”
Right. Aaron studied her. “So you just work at the center now? Nothing else. No hobbies or anything?”
“Nope.”
“What about before?”
“I was all about the music. And then suddenly I wasn’t allowed to play anymore because someone might hear me sing and realize who I was. I risked it at the center, late at night. Enough years had passed, and people had pretty much forgotten about me.”
She chuckled but without any humor. “Which makes me feel great. Sometimes it’s enough to hear someone singing, but I get to the point I can’t breathe if I don’t play guitar. I need the music. Otherwise it’s as if I can’t...feel anything.”
Aaron nodded, though he didn’t really get it. There wasn’t anything in his world that made him feel alive like that.
“So what was in your package?”
“Don’t know. I didn’t open it yet.”
She glanced at the back of the cabin. “Do you want me to go in the bedroom?”
Aaron grabbed the box and pulled it across the table. “That’s not necessary.”
He hesitated with the flaps. The inside was packed with balled-up newspaper. Aaron dug it out and found a plastic container with half a dozen chocolate chip cookies in it. Below that was a game console wrapped in bubble wrap. A remote and a stack of games were with it. Car-racing games mostly, nothing that involved shooting bad guys, since they got enough of that in real life.
“This doesn’t seem bad.”
Aaron kept his eyes on the box and nodded. They’d told him not to visit Franklin in the hospital until he was asked. So why this, why now?
Mackenzie shifted forward on the couch. “They must not have thought it was so bad that the mission went wrong. Not if they sent you a care package.”
Aaron pulled out the games and set them on the table. At the bottom of the box was a white envelope. He ripped down one end and dumped the contents into his palm.
The silver dollar was cold and sat heavy in his hand.
“Does that mean something?”
Aaron bit his lip.
“Aaron?”
“Yes—” He cleared his throat. “It means something.”
He got up and went outside with the coin gripped in his fist. Wetness tracked down his face and he swiped it away. The screen door snapped back on its hinges and he turned away, hoping she wouldn’t see the emotion on his face.
“There’s a note.”
He turned. Mackenzie held up a piece of paper. He took it from her and unfolded it.
Franklin told us.
“Your friend who was blinded? What did he tell them?” She backed up a step. “Sorry. You probably don’t need me butting in. It’s none of my business.”
Aaron grabbed her hand and pulled her to him so their shoulders touched. “When it happened, they needed someone to blame for us getting in that situation. It’s tough to think straight in the middle of a firefight. Your focus narrows, almost to a single point. Between the four of us we could cover the area surrounding us, but that meant they didn’t see the shot that ricocheted and blinded Franklin. They were firing, covering us as we moved, and it was up to me to watch out for the man beside me.
“Franklin was injured and they needed somewhere to put their anger. Honestly, I was fine with it. Now I know they’ve blown through their ire and they’re ready for me to come back.”
“And you didn’t tell them it wasn’t your fault?”
She really thought that? “I’m the team leader, so it was on me. My responsibility. They were right to say what they said.” Aaron squeezed her hand. If he was honest, he didn’t ever want to let go. “They know I couldn’t have changed the outcome. This is their apology for shutting me out, but not for blaming me. And that’s okay.”
“Cookies?”
He laughed. “Works for me.”
“But you still feel responsible.”
“I am responsible. Franklin will never be a soldier again. It was my first time being team leader and this happened.”
Something clicked in his mind, and Aaron got why faith had come so easily to Eric. His brother also understood that his actions dictated the consequences he had to live with. But Eric seemed to have been able to give that up to God—to let Him wash away Eric’s culpability.
Aaron had to live with the consequences of what had happened on the mission. So why should he seek forgiveness for something that was his fault in the first place? Where was the fairness in that?
“The coin means Franklin is on the mend. It means I can visit him in the hospital and there won’t be any resentment.”
“That’s good.”
“It is. Because they’ve been part of my life for years now. A family, a group of brothers. I’ll need their support when I get back.” He looked at Mackenzie and smiled. “I know you didn’t have much choice in it, but I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiled back and it warmed him. “I’m glad I’m here, too, and that we can be friends, even if we don’t always see eye to eye.”
“Me, too.” It was a reflex, agreeing. Was he happy with being friends? What if he wanted more? He didn’t know if that was even possible, but he liked the idea.
Aaron’s unregistered phone rang. He drew it out and hit the button to answer Doug’s call.
“Dude, you are not going to believe this.”
* * *
Mackenzie saw the shift in his eyes as his concentration turned to the phone call. Aaron really thought leadership of his team made him responsible for his actions. Maybe in the army it did. But she couldn’t help thinking sometimes awful things happened that couldn’t be controlled.
She hadn’t known her manager was involved with the Carosas, not until the police had told her. Witnessing the double murder of him and her security guard because her manager had been in over his head wasn’t something she’d been able to avoid.
Wrong place, wrong time was right.
There was nothing she could do about that, but she had been able to control how she went forward. Recovering from her wounds, Mackenzie had agreed to testify, and her decision had shifted the power back into her hands.
Aaron was doing the same thing, except that his actions were chewing him up inside.
He sat on the arm of the chair, the phone to his ear. “What is it?” His eyes darkened further. “You’re kidding me....No....Yeah, let me know.”
He ended the call and looked at her. Maybe she didn’t want to know, but she asked anyway. “What is it?”
“Eva is—” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know how to soften the blow other than just saying it. Eva is Carosa’s daughter—the Carosa who you put away, not his brother.”
SEVENTEEN
Mackenzie’s body tightened, but she couldn’t help it. Her friend was the daughter of the man who had murdered two people and tried to kill her. Eva must have been just a teenager when Mackenzie had testified against him. Now Eva was tied up in all this and Eva’s uncle was trying to kill Mackenzie.
The link was undeniable.
“Doug said there’s a warrant out for her for the murder of U.S. Marshal Inspector Schweitzer. Eric’s on the road to being cleared, but there’s still no sign of Carosa. Doug and Sabine can’t get involved in a federal manhunt, so they’re coming here to help us.”
Her mind was awash with the betrayal, and she could barely process what he was saying. “They are?”
Aaron nodded.
“We’ll need to clean the place up, then, if there’s going to be multiple people staying here.”
“Mack—”
She went inside, grabbed some cleaning supplies and dumped them on the counter in the bathroom. Probably a good place to start. She ducked into the bedroom then and changed clothes. Once it was clean she’d be able to take a shower and wash off some of the grime of the past couple of days. When she was finally free of Carosa, she would book a hotel room and take a bath in one of those big spa tubs.
Maybe then she would be clean of the stink of being betrayed.
Mackenzie tied her hair up and got to scrubbing, taking all her frustration out on the grime on the tiles.
When she was almost done, his boot steps stopped at the door. “Wow, I feel sorry for the soap scum.”
She glanced back over her shoulder. Aaron leaned against the doorjamb, clearly confused as to what was happening. Why couldn’t she just say the words? I hate my life.
She was exhausted, physically and mentally, and had the feeling they were far from the end of all this. She didn’t want to sleep, but she needed to. She didn’t want to relive it all, though. In a vicious trick of the mind, the past would blend with the present and replay the scene back in the hotel room so long ago. Only now she would dream it was Aaron and not her security guard who jerked with the force of a bullet and collapsed into her so that they fell together to the ground.
She turned back to her scrubbing. “Why don’t you get started on the kitchen?” Mackenzie shut her eyes at how curt she sounded, but he had to know she didn’t want to talk. What? He could have space, but she couldn’t?
“Are you mad at me?”
She huffed at the wall. “Why would I be?”
Now she sounded childish. Fabulous. She moved over and started on the next batch of tiles. The exhaustion of years of being hyperattentive to everything around her piled on top of days of running made her feel as though everything was dragging. But she wasn’t going to sit around when they had guests coming.
“Eva’s the one who betrayed you. Why are you taking it out on the tile?”
“It’s not just her.” She turned and pointed the sponge at herself. “I’m on the run from a guy who wants to kill me. I have no family, no friends—at least not anymore.” And didn’t that sound totally depressing? “I had to leave the life I’ve been building and I have no idea if I’m even going to be alive long enough to find out if I can build something from the nothing I have left.”
His eyes softened and he stepped into the bathroom. “So you’ve resorted to cleaning as if your life depends on it? Sabine isn’t going to care.”
“I’m being a good host.” She put one hand on her hip, only she still had the sponge in it and she was squeezing it, getting the shirt all wet. Yuck. She tossed it in the bath.
Aaron smiled. “I’ll help, okay?”
She turned back. “Suit yourself.”
Why was she taking it out on him? She wanted to kick herself, but that would be less pretty than this attitude. And also awkward. He was helping her, and she was snapping at him.
“Mackenzie—”
“I’m trusting you.”
“I know that.”
“With everything I have. Which, granted, isn’t that much compared to some people, but still—”
“I know.”
She looked him in the eyes. “My safety, my future, everything that’s good that I’ve done over the past sixteen years. All the things I’ve accomplished trying to be the kind of person I want to be. I’m putting all of it in your hands.”
He nodded, and his eyes seemed to convey he understood the gravity of what she was saying. “I get all of that.”
“That’s all I need to know.” She fingered the hem of the T-shirt. “It’s not that I’m not grateful for what you’ve done...what you are doing. I am, you know that. I’m just saying...”
Aaron stepped closer to her. “I know what you’re saying, and I’m going to do my best not to let you down. I can’t make promises, I don’t know the future and I won’t pretend everything is going to be fine. I’d rather you were prepared for whatever the outcome will be. But I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe until Carosa is caught.”
“You might not know the future, but I believe God does. He’ll keep me safe, even if that means using you to do it.”
Before Aaron could check it, his body tensed. “Sure He will.”
“You don’t believe it?”
He shrugged. “I grew up going to church. But it’s not as if it has to be a big deal, or anything. When I need God, I’ll ask Him for help. Like after the sniper bullet grazed me, when I realized we were in really deep trouble. I prayed then because there was no other hope. But that was just in the moment.”
Faith was an important part of life, and knowing how he saw it gave her more insight than she’d had before. “I’ll be sure to ask Him now for the both of us.”
Aaron gave her a short nod. Was he going to stay, say something more? But he blinked and whatever was between them dissolved.
She sighed to his back as he walked out of the bathroom. It hit her then. Just as she trusted him with everything, Aaron in turn was also giving everything to see that this was done. He had a life to go back to, and he must have considered the thought that something could happen that might jeopardize his ability to do his job.
What would she do if he was injured, or worse?
Mackenzie squared her shoulders. She could walk away now and spare herself the guilt, but she wouldn’t last long before Carosa caught up with her. Maybe it was better that he was keeping this impersonal.
God, keep him safe. It doesn’t matter what happens to me, just help Carosa be caught and don’t let anything happen to Aaron. And help him to trust in You. He needs You.
He came back in then. Just walked straight up to her and put his arms around her shoulders. Mackenzie stilled, and then squeezed her eyes shut and put her arms around him, too. The simple hug touched her more than she ever would have thought possible.
They stayed like that for a while, before he said, “I’m sorry about Eva.”
“Thank you.” Mackenzie sniffed. “I’m sorry I’m being a pain.”
Aaron chuckled, his chest shaking. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”
“You are not serious.”
He touched her cheek then. He hadn’t moved away. In fact, he might be even closer than he’d been a minute ago.
“Aaron—”
He touched his lips to hers, a kiss of comfort and companionship. Never mind that her stomach fluttered and she had to grab his elbows to steady herself.
Then he leaned back, and the corners of his lips curved up in a smile. “I’ll go make up the extra beds and then get started on the kitchen.”
Mackenzie watched him walk away. Aaron was a great distraction from the drama that was her life. There might be something between them, something she hadn’t experienced before with anyone else. She didn’t really know what to call it or what to do with it. But that didn’t mean it was th
e real thing.
He seemed content to have their closeness be about friendship and him supporting her, and she loved that he was that kind of man. But even if he probably had a pretty good idea already, she still couldn’t let him know just how much he affected her.
Because there was no way he felt the same way.
* * *
Aaron stepped outside a few hours later when Doug and Sabine pulled up in a silver car so out of place in the wilderness it was ridiculous. He eased the door closed without a sound and trotted down the steps. Something had awoken inside him when he’d kissed Mackenzie. It had been a whim, meant to comfort her in the face of Eva’s betrayal, but he’d had to pull back before it quickly became a lot more meaningful.
She might be completely out of his league, but she made him want to try to be better. More open.
Now he was struggling with what to do, because Mackenzie had sparked something. And yet, women and his emotions weren’t something that usually went together. Friendship maybe, but not love. He’d never understood the point of falling so deeply for someone that he lost his own identity in the process. Not to mention self-control. Turning into a blubbering, simpering mess just because a woman turned her sweetness toward him wouldn’t make him a better soldier.
“Nice car.”
Doug pulled him in for a hug that was just this side of painful and involved vigorous backslapping. “Fake ID. Rental. You know how it goes.”
“Sure, but a hybrid?” Aaron gave Sabine a side hug.
She shot Doug a grin that he returned. Then Sabine smiled up at Aaron. “So where’s Mackenzie?”
Doug nodded his shaved head. “Yeah, where is this mystery woman you’re supposed to have abducted?”
“I persuaded her to take a nap. She was pretty wrung out.”
“You look a little peaked yourself.”
Aaron folded his arms. “Thanks, that was really helpful.”
Sabine studied his face. “Oh, no. What happened?”
“Nothing.” Did he really say that? As if Aaron was some junior-high kid with a secret crush to hide. “I should be asking you what you’re doing. Care to share, since I’m not convinced you’re just here to help out?”
Star Witness Page 13
