Erasing Faith

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Erasing Faith Page 30

by Julie Johnson


  He shrugged, a grin playing out on his lips.

  “Well, is there a version of the story where the silly girl and the evil wolf end up together?” I asked, my eyes warm on his face. “Because that’s the only ending I’m interested in.”

  His eyes flashed and abruptly, I was dragged up his chest so my face hovered above his. And then, he was kissing me. This time it wasn’t hard or bruising — it was soft. Tender. Full of love.

  When he released me, I fell back against his chest in a daze. It took a little while to recover my senses, but when I felt my brain return to my body, I looked up at him with questions lurking in my eyes.

  “Can I ask you something?” I whispered.

  The way he looked at me made my heart turn over. “Anything, Red.”

  “Why did you…” My voice trembled into silence. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and tried again. “Why did you leave before I woke up?”

  I felt his chest deflate beneath me as he expelled a sigh of pain. His eyes pressed closed for a long moment, and when they opened they were full of remorse. I barely recognized his voice when he began to speak.

  “First, I need you to know that I’ve regretted that decision since the second I made it. I never should’ve left without saying goodbye, without making sure you were okay.” He swallowed roughly. “They weren’t sure you were going to make it, at first. I told myself I couldn’t sit there and watch you die, which was partly true. But really… Well, I could barely bring myself to walk away from you while you were unconscious. If I’d had to say it out loud, to watch your face as I told you I’d betrayed you…” He shook his head swiftly in rejection. “I’ve survived a lot in my life, but knew I wouldn’t survive that. So I took the coward’s way out. I left.”

  He looked down at me with a thin film of moisture over his eyes. Seeing my strong, self-contained man nearly brought to tears… it floored me. Wes was not someone who cried easily — or ever, for that matter. I’d guess this was as close as he’d come to it in a long, long time.

  “I know it’s unforgivable, Faith. But you have to know that I’m sorry. If I could go back and change it, I would.” He cleared his throat and seemed to regain control over himself, and I knew his tiny show of weakness was over. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself for doing that to you.”

  “It’s not,” I said simply, looking into his eyes. “And I don’t.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not unforgivable.” I shifted in his arms and my hands slid up his chest to cup his jaw. I made sure to look into his eyes when I spoke again. “I forgive you, Wes. And I don’t hate you. I’ll never hate you.”

  His arms tightened around my body and he dropped his head forward, burying his face in my hair.

  “If the man who shot you wasn’t already dead, I swear I’d put a bullet in his head,” he muttered darkly.

  My heart began to pound. “What?”

  “Istvan Bordas,” Wes said, lifting his head to look at me. “He’s the one who shot you, Red.”

  “I know that,” I said, my eyes wide. “But he isn’t dead.”

  Wes looked at me funny. “He died in the fire at Hermes. My men found his charred remains in the wreckage.”

  “Well, I hate to break it to you, but your men were wrong. He isn’t dead — I saw him four days ago at the airport. It was kind of hard to miss him, considering he was shooting bullets at me and all.”

  “That was Bordas?” Wes growled, anger suffusing his every word.

  “I mean… I’m pretty sure.” I shrugged. “He looked different. There were… scars. Burns, on his face. But it was definitely him.”

  “Fuck,” Wes cursed, his eyes distant. “He’s the one doing the hits.”

  Thoughts of Margot filled my mind and I pressed my eyes closed in sudden pain.

  “Hey.” Wes shook me softly until I looked at him. “Don’t worry. We’re safe out here. No one will find us. And, if they do…” A cold glint filled his eyes. “They won’t touch you ever again. That’s a vow.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four: WESTON

  ORDERS

  “Abbott.” I glanced back at Faith to ensure she was still sleeping soundly before slipping onto the front porch to take the call. It was five in the morning — I didn’t want to wake her, yet.

  “It’s Benson.”

  I sighed. “What is it?”

  “Careful,” he warned. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.”

  “What’s happening with Szekely?” I asked, my tone a little less sharp. “I want a timeframe for how much longer I’m going to be out here.”

  “And where exactly is out here?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t about to disclose that to anyone, even if he was my boss.

  “Abbott, Abbott, Abbott — always so mysterious.” He chuckled but it sounded forced. “Well, I assume you can at least confirm that you still have the girl and she’s in a safe location.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” His tone was light, as though we were discussing nothing more than the weather. “It seems you two are the only ones left after Szekely’s little murder spree. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you — if he’s taken in alive, your testimony will help put him away.”

  My jaw went tight.

  “Of course,” Benson continued. “It would be simpler if he was taken out permanently.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, my voice cold. “Any leads on where he is?”

  “Nothing credible. But we did manage to identify Istvan Bordas in the footage we collected from the airport. Apparently, he didn’t die in that fire, after all.”

  “I know. Faith saw him,” I muttered. “And we have no idea where he went after the airport? How is that possible?”

  “Why don’t you do your job, Abbott, and stop worrying about mine.” Benson’s voice went cold. “As of now, we believe Bordas is still in California, trying to track you and Miss Morrissey down. If you hadn’t insisted on doing this yourself, he would be no threat to you at all.”

  “He’s not a threat,” I growled.

  “You can’t ensure that. Tell me where you are, and I’ll send backup to your location within the hour. My men will relieve you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. No fucking way would I trust someone else with Faith’s safety — not Benson, or anybody else. I hadn’t trusted anyone inside the agency for three years… Not since I learned there was a mole in our ranks, leaking information to Szekely. I wasn’t about to start putting my confidence in them again now.

  “She’s safe and secure,” I bit out. “No need for another agent here.”

  There was a frosty silence over the line. “I don’t particularly enjoy my authority being questioned, Abbott. You will tell me where you’ve taken her — that’s an order.”

  I stared at the crooked boards of the porch beneath my feet, and my thoughts turned to the beautiful girl sleeping just inside the cabin. Nothing was worth jeopardizing her. Not even my career.

  “If you find Bordas, call me. I’ll happily put him down for you. As for handing over Faith…” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Sorry, sir, but in all sincerity… You can go fuck yourself.”

  I disconnected and pulled the SIM-card from my phone before he could initiate a trace. Back inside the cabin, I tossed my phone onto the table, threw another log in the fireplace, and climbed back into bed with Faith, wrapping my arms around her body and absorbing her warmth until I forgot about Benson and Bordas and all the other bullshit.

  She was the only thing that mattered.

  Chapter Fifty-Five: FAITH

  THE PERFECT LIFE

  “How about that big one?” he suggested, pointing to the mammoth tree ten feet from us. “The old oak, by the edge of the clearing.”

  I huffed in indignation. “A twelve year-old could find that mark. Give me something a little less insulting, please.”

  Wes chuckled.

  “Don’t laugh at me.” I glared playfully. “I’m
armed.”

  He only laughed harder, even when I waved my Lady Smith in his direction.

  “Fine, fine,” he said, looking at me like he thought I was the funniest person alive — which, normally, I wouldn’t have minded but, right now, when my shooting skills were being called into question, I found more than a little annoying.

  “You want a tougher target? How about…” His eyes swept the clearing. “Okay, there. The apple tree.”

  I followed his gaze to the thick-trunked, heavily-gnarled tree, about thirty feet away. Its branches hung heavy with ripe red apples, though many had already scattered to the earth and begun to rot with the last days of autumn.

  “Let’s see if you can hit the big knot in the trunk,” he challenged, his voice full of skepticism.

  He didn’t think I could do it. I laughed.

  “I’ll do you one better,” I muttered, planting my feet and taking aim. Cocking my head, I made sure to breathe, blocked out everything except the vantage in front of me, and pulled the trigger.

  The apple exploded in a flurry of red pulp, dropping to the ground like moist confetti.

  I turned to Wes, planted one hand on my hip, and grinned. “How’dya like them apples?”

  With his arms crossed over his chest and his face carefully blank, I could tell he was trying not to look too impressed. My satisfaction grew.

  “See?” I said, sidling closer to him. “I can take care of myself.”

  His dark grin was the last thing I saw, because an instant later I was spinning. I’m not sure how he did it but, before I could even react, I’d been hauled against him with my back to his chest, the gun had been removed from my grip, and I was in what could only be considered a headlock. He executed the move with the ease and familiarity of a professional, the sheer skill and speed he used a testament to the lifestyle he lived.

  I thought back to a few days ago, when I’d held him off at gunpoint, thinking I was the one in control, and was hit with the sudden realization that my authority had been nothing more than an illusion. An indulgence, on his part. He could’ve disarmed me at any point that day before I managed to fire a single round. Hell, he wouldn’t have even broken a sweat.

  His mouth touched my ear and a chill raced up my spine — the good kind.

  “Really, Red, you should be more careful. You were so busy bragging about your skills, you didn’t even see me coming,” he whispered. His arm squeezed a little tighter, putting a tiny amount of pressure on my windpipe. Not enough to hurt me — just enough to let me know he could.

  “You are so annoying,” I gritted out between tightly clenched teeth.

  “Thanks, baby, that’s so sw—”

  His teasing words turned into an oof of surprise as I slid one leg between his, hooked a foot around his left ankle, and pulled forward with every ounce of strength I possessed. With the element of surprise on my side, as well as a swift elbow to his jugular, I managed to send him tripping backwards, slipping out of his loosened chokehold as he fell to the ground.

  It probably only worked because I’d caught him off guard, but I couldn’t stop the triumphant grin from spreading across my cheeks when I turned and saw him sprawled on his ass in the dirt.

  “Now… who exactly were you calling baby, baby?” I gloated, leaning over him with my hands planted on my knees.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Okay, so maybe I underestimated you,” he conceded. “A little.”

  I snorted. “I’m pretty sure you did a lot more than— hey!”

  The shriek of protest escaped my mouth just as I felt my legs swept out from under me. I would’ve fallen flat on my face, had Wes not rolled beneath me at the last moment. I landed on his chest with a thud that made both of us grunt in pain, but seconds later we were laughing too hard to care much about being out of breath.

  He spun so my back was pressed against the earth and before I knew it, I was even dustier than he was. Hovering over me, his eyes were warmer than the afternoon sunshine.

  “You’re full of surprises,” he said, bending to kiss my nose lightly.

  “I took three years of krav maga lessons.” I grinned. “Knocking you on your ass just now was the payoff for all those gym membership bills.”

  “Oh, really?” His nose skimmed my jawline and I tried not to shiver. “Well, I think you should definitely show me some of your moves.” He kissed the hollow beneath my ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. “…preferably when we’re in bed…” Another kiss landed on my throat. “…naked.”

  Then, his lips were on mine again and I forgot about the fact that we were covered in dirt and that there were two loaded firearms lying in the grass less than five feet away. His hands threaded into my hair, mine slipped beneath the back of his t-shirt, and I was officially lost once more.

  ***

  Wes’ hands glided across my wet skin, his strong fingers massaging me into a state of such relaxation I feared my limbs would turn permanently to Jell-O. I floated weightlessly, sighing in complete contentment as I leaned back against his slippery chest. My tired eyes were unfocused, watching lazily as buttery light from the fireplace gleamed off the copper and illuminated our skin.

  We’d been in the tub for hours.

  The water had long since chilled, but the press of his body against mine lent warmth enough. I couldn’t bring myself to climb out and end the perfection of this moment — skin to skin with the man I loved.

  Turning in his arms, I wrapped my hands loosely around his neck and smiled sleepily.

  “What?” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my damp forehead.

  “Just happy,” I whispered back, dropping my head onto his shoulder. “Aren’t you?”

  He cleared his throat. “I never thought it was possible to be this happy.”

  “Good answer,” I murmured. My lips curved into a smile as my eyes slipped closed.

  A few moments later, I felt my body shifting in the water as Wes rearranged his arms around me. I lost my breath when he stood to lift me from the tub, my already chilled skin hitting the cool cabin air and snapping me back into full consciousness.

  My grumbles of complaint lasted barely a minute — before I could whine too much about the cold, Wes was sliding beneath the quilt with my body cradled tightly against his. He pulled the blankets over our tangled limbs and heat immediately began to sink back into my bones.

  It was dark outside the cabin windows and I was exhausted, but my mind refused to drift into sleep. I fought against my eyes, which wanted nothing more than to droop closed for the next eight to ten hours, instead watching the shadows flicker across Wes’ features and listening to the worries that were bouncing around the inside of my skull like loose ping pong balls.

  “What happens after this is over?” I blurted, the words coming out of my mouth before I could stop them. I instantly wanted to kick my own ass for dredging up future conflicts instead of simply being content in the moment.

  Wes raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean, Red?”

  I swallowed. “When they catch Istvan… When Szekely is no longer a threat… I mean, we aren’t going to be in this cabin forever. The future… Well, it’s not just going to be an eternity of bubble baths and endless sexual gymnastics.”

  “That’s a damn shame.” His fingertips skimmed my jawline and his voice was husky. “I really like the sexual gymnastics.”

  I smiled weakly, my mind still reeling with worries. His playful words did nothing to soothe me.

  “Red.”

  “Mhmm,” I murmured distractedly, not making eye contact.

  “Red.”

  “Mmm.” My eyes were still locked stubbornly on his chin.

  “Faith.”

  I tilted my head to look at him, anxious thoughts plain to see in my eyes. “What?” I whispered, my voice a little bit broken.

  He sighed, but there was a smile twisting his lips. “Do you remember that thing I happened to mention yesterday? Maybe you missed it.”

 
I shrugged. “What thing?”

  “The thing where I told you I loved you.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks reddened slightly. “That thing. Yep, I remember.”

  “Good.” His grin widened, but there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. “I was lost before you found me. And then, after you’d finally helped me find myself, I lost you for three years. That’s not happening ever again. I’m done with losing each other.”

  The determination in his voice made me smile.

  “But you have to decide if that’s what you want, too,” he added softly.

  I opened my mouth to reply but he cut me off.

  “I love you,” he whispered, his words vehement. “Too much to lie to you or offer you false hopes for the future. If you stay with me…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat roughly. “I can’t promise you the things you deserve. That perfect life with a picket fence in a safe suburb, where you bake casseroles for dinner and we go to a neighborhood potluck every month. I can’t tell you where we’ll live or what we’ll do. The life I’ve led… I have enemies. I might never be able to settle down in one place. My future won’t be luxurious or comfortable.” He took a deep breath and I could see, beneath the calm, that he was struggling deeply with this. “I can’t give you normal, Faith. Not like another man could.”

  I thought about it for a long moment, looking into his eyes, before I finally spoke.

  “The perfect life… That’s a funny concept, you know? Because perfection isn’t constant; it’s changeable. Personal. It depends on your own definition.” I smiled softly. “So, maybe some women’s idea of perfect is that life you just described. Safe and secure, with a spacious house, marble countertops, and a social calendar full of backyard barbecues. Maybe being nothing more than normal is the key to life’s great happiness.” I tilted my head and scrunched up my nose. “But I never said I wanted normal.”

  His eyes lit up.

  “I don’t want an ordinary life with someone else,” I said simply. “I want an extraordinary life with you. Whatever that means, wherever that takes us…” I leaned my forehead against his and spoke the words across his lips. “I love you. That’s my idea of perfection.”

 

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