Misplaced Trust

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Misplaced Trust Page 3

by G. K. Parks


  “It doesn’t matter. We just have to roll with the punches, right?”

  “Yeah, except last time you got KO’ed. I don’t want to see that happen again.”

  “Neither do I.”

  * * *

  I rubbed my shoulder and stared at the blackboard behind the bar. When did they start listing daily cocktails? Apparently, I’d been on the wagon for some time. Ever since being force-fed an entire bottle of vodka, I’d been abstaining from liquor. Tonight, I couldn’t imagine that spending the rest of the evening with my head in the toilet would make me feel much worse than I already did.

  “Lemon drop,” I said, smiling at the bartender who had been kind enough to keep my water glass filled.

  “You sure about that, hun?” he asked, probably assuming I was a recovering alcoholic.

  “Not really, but it’ll be a nice accompaniment to this cocktail napkin. The two should coordinate splendidly.”

  “Whatever you say.” Placing the contents in a shaker, he rimmed the glass, poured, and placed it on my napkin. Then he went and filled the tequila shots that Agent Davis ordered.

  “To Eddie,” someone called out in the background. A round of cheers was followed by the clinking of glasses.

  “Don’t you want to join in the festivities?” Kate Hartley, FBI forensic accountant and my former Quantico roommate, asked.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Alex, seriously, you probably know Eddie better than anyone else in this room. Shouldn’t you give a toast or share some embarrassing story or something?”

  “Nope.” I picked up the martini, decided against drinking it, and placed it back on the napkin.

  “But he got transferred. Did you at least sign the card?”

  “Yes, Kate.” I sighed. “I even pitched in on the gift.”

  She stared at me for a long moment, downing the rest of her rum and coke. “I remember a few months ago when the two of you got into a brawl. Is there still bad blood between you?” Kate had always been a good friend, but she was inquisitive by nature and believed that our friendship gave her carte blanche to nag and wheedle all kinds of things out of me. She wouldn’t stop until she was satisfied with the answer.

  “It’s not that. This just reminds me of that night right after Carver’s memorial. I think every single agent got trashed. It was story after story. One toast after another.”

  “God, I was so blitzed. I don’t remember much of it. I’m surprised you do.”

  “I remember all of it.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” She put her drink down and hugged me, clearly a bit tipsy. “I never thought how this must feel to you.”

  “What?” I shrugged out of her arms. “It’s a great relief. Lucca’s favorite pastime is busting my balls. As of right now, he’s no longer my problem. I’m fucking ecstatic that he’s leaving.”

  Sighing dramatically, she gave me an exaggerated eye roll. “You certainly have a funny way of showing it.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “I’m just a phone call away if you want to talk.”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

  “You always say that.” Picking up her refilled drink, she gave me an uncertain look before returning to her table.

  Checking the time, I wondered if I had stayed long enough to duck out. These were my colleagues and friends, but I felt more isolated and alone in this crowded bar than I felt at my desk or even at home. Wow, this was one hell of a pity party, and I didn’t even have any real problems. Lucca was the one being uprooted. My life was just peachy. Damn, when did I turn into an ungrateful bitch?

  “Hey,” Lucca slid onto the stool next to mine and motioned for another beer, “I wasn’t sure if I’d get a chance to talk to you.” His eyes darted to the untouched cocktail. “Tough day?”

  “I suddenly got stuck pulling double-duty. It sucks.” I met his eyes. “And if you tell anyone what I’m about to say, I’ll hunt you down.” I cleared my throat. “But I’m gonna miss you, Eddie. God knows I’ve put you through hell, but you’ve saved my ass more times than I care to admit. So thank you.”

  “Ditto.” He held out his hand.

  “Seriously?” I laughed. “I think I’d like to cash in on that hug now?”

  “So you can report me to HR?”

  “Shut up.”

  He embraced me. “Take care of yourself since I won’t be around to do it for you.”

  Pulling away, I glared at him playfully. Before I could say anything else, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning, my boss had a serious expression on his face.

  “Not to dampen the mood, but I thought the two of you would want to know that a body was found in the desert. The local police identified it as belonging to a woman who was reported missing six months ago. She was last seen in the company of Timothy Wilde. The DEA’s undercover operative has no way of knowing how this happened, but the situation’s escalated. We’ll be sending our own people to help in the morning.” He turned to face Lucca. “When you get to D.C., see if there’s anything that we might have overlooked and have it forwarded to the DEA. I know this isn’t your responsibility anymore, but our people will need all the help they can get.”

  “What was the cause of death?” I asked.

  Mark shook his head. “I’m not sure. I didn’t get a copy of the report. I just received notification concerning the identification.” He glanced down at my drink. “I don’t want you back at the office tonight, but first thing in the morning, I want you ready to go. You can brief whoever volunteers for the assignment on the plane.”

  “You want me to fly out to the West Coast?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It’ll just be for a day or two. Hell, maybe even a turnaround. Since you’ve been versed in the research, you might possess something valuable that the DEA missed.” Mark’s gaze went back to Lucca. “I hate that you’re leaving us now that things are starting to heat up.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Lucca replied.

  “Kid, you don’t work for me anymore, and we’re at a fucking bar. It’s Mark,” Jablonsky insisted. Someone called to him from across the room, and he excused himself.

  “I should get out of here. I promised my wife that I’d help her pack. Do you think I can sneak out?” Lucca asked.

  “You can try. If you get stopped, I’ll provide a distraction. A striptease on top of the bar might work. Now if only I could find some way to get Jablonsky to take his clothes off.”

  “Okay, I’m out.” Lucca bumped my forearm. “It really has been a pleasure working with you, Agent Parker.”

  “Go.” I jerked my head at the door, suddenly afraid that I might actually shed a tear or two. Apparently, I was no longer numb, but I wished that I was.

  Staring at the drink in front of me, I picked it up and took a slight sip, forcing the sour-sweet liquid down my throat and swallowing again when it attempted to make a reappearance. Of course, I had work in the morning, and drinking myself into oblivion wasn’t recommended, not that my body would have allowed it anyway. After fishing my phone from my purse, I dialed a familiar number.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Martin sounded amused, perhaps even intrigued by my call. “Reading through the quarterly financial reports and modifying the projections for the next fiscal year. I’m surprised that you called on a school night. Are you sure you dialed the right number?”

  “Don’t be a smart ass.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I thought you might like to come over.”

  “Really?”

  “I could use the company.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Hanging up, I gave the glass another look and threw it back in one gulp. Perhaps I could use it as an excuse for calling Martin. I really must be a glutton for punishment, and at the moment, I didn’t care. I missed him and the way things used to be. I wanted that back, particularly now that everything else was changing. Nothing in my life was the same anymore.

  Fo
ur

  My hand gently rested against Martin’s obliques. It was the only connection between us. When I pulled away, he focused on the spot of lost contact for several moments before throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Closing my eyes, I knew this couldn’t go on. It hurt too much.

  “Leaving?” I asked, forcing my tone to remain neutral.

  “In a few minutes.” He glanced back at me while fastening the buttons on his shirt. “Like I said, it’s a school night. We both have work in the morning.”

  “Right. Work comes first.”

  “Hey, you instigated this time. You called me,” he winked, hoping to soften the accusation, “not that I mind, but something’s up.”

  “Lucca’s going away party was tonight.”

  “And you wanted to celebrate.” Martin snickered.

  “No.” I sat up, pulling on my clothes. “I’m going to miss him.”

  His brow furrowed, and he scrutinized me for a long moment, eventually shaking it off while he went to work on his cufflinks. “That’s a surprise. I thought you hated the guy. I guess I’ll never really understand you or what you’re thinking.”

  Tired of the backhanded remarks, I knew this had to end. “Stop. We can’t keep doing this. I can’t do this. I thought I could. I hoped in time we’d go back to the way we were, but this isn’t working. It hurts too much.” I met his eyes.

  “Alex, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Yes, you do. You probably never intended to, but that’s what this is. Every time you come here, you use me like some brothel whore, and then you go home. You won’t let me inside your house. We’ve barely done anything except screw. When’s the last time we had dinner or coffee or took a walk?”

  “What do you want from me?” The heartbreaking defeat covered his face. “Tell me what you want.”

  “For starters, you could kiss me.”

  Martin practically rolled his eyes at the childish remark. “I’m pretty sure I lavished every part of your body with kisses an hour ago.”

  “I’m not talking about foreplay. You haven’t kissed me for the sake of kissing me since the night you said you forgave me, which clearly you haven’t.”

  “Fine.” He came around to my side of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. As slowly as possible, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine. It was gentle and full of promise and love. My hand went to his face, but he grabbed my wrist before I could touch him. Pulling away, he dropped my hand and faced the dresser. Squeezing his eyes closed, he let out a long exhale. “Perhaps it’ll make you feel better to know you aren’t the only one hurting.” He glanced in my direction.

  “It doesn’t.” I reached for him again, but he stood abruptly, moving toward the foot of the bed as if my touch were scalding.

  “Dammit, you could at least wait for me to turn around before twisting the knife in deeper. Don’t you understand that this is torture? I want things to be the way they were too, but you destroyed everything, Alex. I’m doing my best, but I can’t kiss you like that. I can’t spend the night. I can’t let you come home because whenever you do come home, I never want you to leave again.” His voice was edgy and desperate. “I need to figure out how to trust you again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?” He turned on me like a rabid dog. “You lied to me. You manipulated the situation in order to send me away. I don’t think you’re sorry. In fact, I’m pretty fucking sure you’d do it again in a heartbeat, and that’s the problem.”

  “I sent you away to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?” he screamed.

  “The psycho that wanted me dead. That fucking crime lord that swore to me that he would take his time and make you suffer. I needed you safe. I needed to know you’d be okay.”

  “While you went on a suicide mission.” He shook his head and rubbed a hand through his hair. “How many times have I been there for you when you needed help? The reason you sent me away wasn’t for my protection. It was for yours. You were being selfish. You’d rather die than risk losing someone else, but you still haven’t figured out that your actions will cause you to lose me.”

  “Martin,” I began, but he shushed me.

  “No. I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry. You aren’t. You can’t be because you still don’t understand why what you did was wrong.” He clenched his fists and looked away. “I can’t trust you, and until I can, I don’t want you to come home. I don’t want to wake up to you in the morning. I don’t want to fall into our old patterns because when this happens again, I don’t want to feel the way that I do right now. So yeah, maybe I want you to feel a little hurt too. And I know I shouldn’t, but sweetheart, until I can find some way to wrap my mind around this, I need some distance to keep from going insane. I’ll figure it out eventually. I just need time.”

  “No amount of time is going to make a difference.” I swallowed, moving closer to him. “You know this is who I am. And we’ve had this fight more times than we should have. It was your one nonnegotiable point to our relationship. You shouldn’t have to compromise. I never should have expected you to.” I blinked. “This is killing us.” I gestured around the room. “I won’t keep doing it.”

  “Dammit, Alexis,” he growled, “don’t. Please don’t.”

  “You should be with someone who won’t betray you, who will be absolutely overjoyed at the prospect of marriage, who doesn’t do shit like this for a living, and who will make you insanely happy.”

  “But I love you.”

  “That’s not enough.” Inhaling to steady myself, I slid the ring box across the dresser. “I leave tomorrow for a deep cover assignment across the country. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Honestly, it could be years. The agent tasked with this has already been under for eight months, and there’s no way of knowing how close they are to making a break in the case. I don’t want you to wait for me. I want you to date and find that someone that will be amazing and incredible. You deserve incredible.”

  “No.” He shook his head angrily, his eyes on fire. “I don’t accept. Who the hell left it up to you to decide when we break up? I sure as hell didn’t.” He rolled his eyes, scoffing. “You just want me to go screw someone, so when you do come back, you’ll have a reason to leave me. I’m not that stupid. Don’t tell me that we should break up because it’s not fair to me. This isn’t fair to me. You’re the only one that I want to be with.”

  “Wake up,” I spat. “You just said that you won’t be with someone you can’t trust. And you don’t trust me.”

  His face contorted, and he tried to back-pedal. “That’s not what I said, and it certainly isn’t what I meant. I trust you. I know you’d never cheat on me. You’d never willingly allow anything to happen to me. You’d die for me, Alex. And that’s the problem. I’m a grown man. You don’t get to treat me like a child and decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to dismiss my objections and make decisions on your own. We are in this together.”

  “Bullshit. You make unilateral decisions for everyone.”

  He huffed, exasperated. “When have I ever forced you to do something that you legitimately refused to do?” He waited expectantly for an answer, knowing that he was right. “Even now, you’re trying to make a decision about us based on what’s easiest for you. I’m not going to let you decide that we should break up because we’ve hit a rough patch or because you’ll be gone for work. Newsflash, your decisions suck.”

  “That’s not how this works.” Now I was angry and irritated by his childishness. “You can be as deluded as you want, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t over. If we were already married, we’d have grounds for divorce over irreconcilable differences.”

  He scowled. “I don’t believe that. We’ll work through it. I will work through it. Lord knows there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll ever change, but I can. I’ll come to terms with this, just don’t go. Don’t do this.”

  I couldn’t help but think that the stages of grief were playing o
ut in front of me. First, he was depressed, then angry; now he was bargaining. Hell, he’d probably hit acceptance by the time he made it to the front door.

  “Martin, I just don’t want you to wait for some epiphany that’ll never come. And there’s no reason to wait for me to get back. I could legitimately be away for more than a year. It’s too long. You should move on. Maybe afterward we’ll see where we are, but I don’t see a way through this mess. We can’t change. At least, I can’t. You said it yourself.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s all that matters. Answer the question, Alex. Do you love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’ll figure this out. I will figure this out. Stay.” He stared at me. “I’ll stay the night. We can talk. We can rebuild. I don’t know, just don’t go on this assignment. Tell Jabber to find someone else. Don’t leave me again.”

  I never heard him beg like this, and it broke my heart. “I have to go. There’s nothing left for me here. Lucca’s gone. I’ve lost you. I need a break. I need to make peace with the shit I’ve done and the people I’ve hurt, and going is for the best. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  “Sweetheart,” he pulled me close, squeezing me hard, “I won’t let you go. We’re not done.”

  “Do it for me. I want you to be happy.”

  “Then stop ripping out my heart.” He let go and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit.” He picked up the ring box, popping it open before placing it back on my dresser. “You made a promise, and I intend to hold up my end of it. You better do the same.”

  Thankfully, he left my apartment before the tears started to fall. I didn’t want my sobs to manipulate him more than everything else. After taking some time to get myself under control, I picked up the phone and dialed Mark. It didn’t matter that it was late. I knew he’d answer.

  “You can stop looking for volunteers,” I declared. “I want the assignment.”

  “Are you sure? You’ll be on loan to the DEA for god knows how long.”

  “I don’t care.”

 

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