He left me standing in the corner, my nerves frayed, stomach in knots.
I went to the bathroom and threw up all of my champagne.
My work phone rang and I paused the broadcast I’d been listening to so I could answer it. My boss had me working on an intelligence memorandum on the current situation in Syria. My part would be a small contribution in what would eventually grow to a thirty-page research paper which he would author. Writing was a huge part of my job. We regularly published articles on security issues within our region, and while I wasn’t senior enough to write my own, I was learning how to get there eventually.
“This is Kate Reynolds.”
“What the hell is going on with you?”
I winced at the sound of Blair’s voice shouting at me through the phone. It had been a week since my unofficial “debut” with my parents at the Kennedy Center benefit, and apparently the news of our reconciliation had made it all the way up to Boston. Or Jackie had called.
“What were you thinking? I mean, seriously, what the fuck were you thinking?”
The old Blair, the Blair I’d known most of my life, had rarely, if ever cursed. The new, I-only-have-so-many-fucks-to-give Blair dropped f-bombs with a regularity I wasn’t sure I could get used to. It was almost like she was me or something.
I swallowed, digging deep for a plausible excuse.
“You know, after the whole mugging thing, I just realized—”
“Oh, save it,” Blair snapped. “I know you. You did not have some come-to-Jesus moment where you realized that you actually wanted to have a relationship with our parents. What’s going on with you?”
I sighed. “You know that conversation we had when you told me that you couldn’t support me in all of this, that you needed to step away so that you could find peace in your life?”
“Yes.”
“You need to step away so that you can have some peace in your life. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved in this, Blair.”
“I thought you’d moved on.”
“What?”
“I thought you’d moved on. What happened with the guy?”
Ahh. The mythical guy who I was supposed to be banging and using to forget Matt. Fuck, I’d totally forgotten about him. Maybe I needed to start writing all of my lies down to keep them straight or something.
“Oh. Um. Yeah, we’re not really seeing each other anymore.”
“What happened?”
With this, I stuck as close to the truth as possible.
“I don’t think he wanted a relationship; he was just looking for something casual and I wanted more.”
I wanted everything.
“I’m so sorry, Kate. He sounds like a dick.”
Considering how worried and pissed I was that I hadn’t heard a word from Matt, I wasn’t going to argue that point.
“There are a ton of great guys out there who would be so lucky to have someone like you,” Blair continued. “Why don’t you talk to Jackie and Will? They might set you up. Or, there was this guy, Adam, in my law school class at Hannover. He was really nice and funny; we still keep in touch sometimes. I think he’s still single.”
I stifled a groan. Blair would hate the comparison, but she really sounded like our mother right now.
“I’m not really interested in dating,” I hedged. “I think I just have to find someone that I’m naturally attracted to. You can’t force these things.”
“True, but I don’t think it would hurt you to get out and start dating. I didn’t want to rush you before, but now that I know you’re open to meeting someone else, it would be good for you to put yourself out there.”
“I really don’t think—”
“I’m going to call Jackie and see if she and Will know anyone. Talk to you later. Bye.”
I heard a click on the line before I even had a chance to respond.
Fuck me.
I liked Will a lot, and I knew my sisters were just trying to help, but the last thing I wanted to do was be set up on a blind date.
I groaned, taking a sip from the now-lukewarm coffee on my desk, needing the caffeine fix to keep me awake. I hadn’t been sleeping all that well since Matt had left. It was as if his nightmares had transferred over to me, and now I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, my body drenched with sweat, images of him being tortured and killed haunting my dreams.
I still hadn’t heard from him.
Whoever he had watching me was good, because I hadn’t seen him once. Everything around me had fallen quiet. There had been no more muggings, no more break-ins, no more mysterious packages in the mail. My wound had healed for the most part, and it was almost as if it had all been a dream.
I’d seen my parents twice since we’d gone to the Kennedy Center, and I had an invitation to attend a dinner at their house with old friends of the family who just-so-happened to have a son who was a little older than me. The whole thing reeked of a setup, but since it also had the added benefit of giving me an excuse to get into the house, I took it.
My work phone rang again.
“This is Kate Reynolds.”
“We have the perfect guy for you,” Jackie announced, skipping the usual phone pleasantries.
I put my head in my hands, cradling the receiver in the curve of my neck. Having sisters could be awesome; right now it felt like a giant pain in my ass.
“I don’t want to go out on a date,” I grumbled. “I’m not really in the mood to be fixed up with anyone.”
“Too bad. We’ve already set it up. We’re going to double-date so it won’t be so awkward for you. It’s a guy Will knows from the gym. Apparently, he’s an attorney.”
I hadn’t been into the date to start with, but this thing just kept getting dodgier and dodgier.
“You’re joking, right? Will knows him from the gym? What, he couldn’t find some random guy off of the street to go out with me?”
Jackie laughed. “It’s not like that. They play basketball together on the weekends. I’ve seen him—he’s cute. And he’s a nice guy. Just give it a shot.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Do you want Blair off your back? Do you want her to think that you’ve really moved on? I saw Capital Confessions. Do you want her digging deeper there?”
Ahh, our resident Machiavelli. Nobody did scheming like Jackie. I could try my best, but I’d never have the same skills she did. She was inherently suspicious, and by the tone of her voice, I knew she knew that I was in deep with this stuff with my father.
“Fine.”
I could hear the triumph in her voice. “Wear something cute.”
I hung up and reached for the bottle of aspirin sitting next to my now-cold coffee.
Fuck my life.
Matt
It was daunting to return to Afghanistan after I’d narrowly escaped hell. I didn’t know if it was nearly dying here, but I found myself constantly on edge, sleep eluding me, my dreams more intense than ever before.
I woke in the middle of the night, my body covered in a thin film of sweat, chest heaving, arms flailing. I reached for Kate, only to come up empty. Alone. Again.
I turned onto my side in bed, throwing the covers off, still not used to the Afghani summer heat.
I’d traced my contact to Mazar-i-Sharif and found myself a room in a dubiously clean inn for a few nights. The staff was nice enough and the wireless worked even if the signal strength was weak; I’d slept in worse places both during my military career and after, and still I felt restless, edgy, desperate to get the hell out and return to the place that despite my instincts I still thought of as home. Back to the girl who I still thought of as home.
I missed Kate.
Now that I’d had another night with her in my arms again, all that I’d lost years ago came rushing back to me with frightening clarity. Time hadn’t made it easier as much as it had dulled my memories of her, making the unbearable slightly more endurable. But now? Now I felt the loss of her again, as tho
ugh we were connected beyond the distance between us, even as we went through our days in separate worlds. I carried her with me now in a way I hadn’t before.
I calculated the time difference—it was early morning in D.C. Was she getting ready for work? Was she already at her office at Langley? Did she miss me? Had I let her down by leaving? Did she understand why I’d had to go?
Doubts ran through my mind over and over again.
I got out of bed, walking to the rickety desk where I’d set my laptop. I sat down in the chair that I feared would crumple beneath my weight and started up my computer, ignoring the voice in my head that told me to leave it, that the last thing I needed was a distraction when I was trying to stay alive.
I’d made myself promise not to check up on her, not to reach out to her. Some missions had been like that when I was in the military—the danger too high, the need to keep your head in the game too sharp to be distracted by family back home. Maybe it seemed harsh, but distractions were the difference between life and death. Even then I’d struggled with shutting Kate out completely. I’d carried her picture with me, and whenever we’d had downtime I’d stared at the image of her smiling face, reminding myself of all the reasons I fought for the home I had to protect in her.
The computer turned on, the screen flashing as I entered my password and pulled up my Internet browser. Jasper, the guy I’d hired to keep an eye on Kate, hadn’t reached out to me with any news so that told me everything was fine back home. He would have contacted me if anything had happened to her, but it wasn’t the same. I needed to see for myself that she was safe, needed to feel that connection to her.
I was tired. So fucking tired. Tired of running. Tired of not sleeping through the night. Tired of waiting for the knife in my back or the shot in the gut. Tired of feeling impotent, little more than a pawn in a global chess game.
We were close, but it wasn’t enough. They’d slip the noose with evasion and the threat of lawsuits to any source that printed the information if we couldn’t tie it tightly enough. And with Kate’s safety on the line, there was too much at stake to fuck this up.
I typed in the Capital Confessions Web address. As much as Kate hated the attention, there had been so many nights like this one—me in a shitty hotel, in a remote part of the world, waking up from a nightmare with a gnawing ache in my chest and a longing for her that couldn’t be assuaged, sitting in front of my computer, impatiently waiting for the site to load, for the hope that I’d see a glimpse of her—a picture, a story—something, anything that could carry me on when the weight of it all became too fucking much.
Besides, as much as I knew the attention got old, as long as she was in the spotlight and attention was on her, it would be difficult to cover up any violence against her. Her notoriety made her safer, because her death couldn’t be swept under the rug.
Frustration filled me as the page failed to load, the flashy graphics and videos a challenge for the slow Internet. I tried again, checking my cell to see if I’d heard from my source, Abdul.
I didn’t know much about him, just a name that was no doubt a pseudonym. Our meeting was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, and then the next day, I’d be on a flight to Dubai, the first leg on my circuitous route back to D.C.
The page loaded and relief filled me. I scrolled down past the scandals, the articles hinting that a certain congressman had embezzled funds, through the posts about a charity that was being investigated, the link about the horse racing scion in Virginia who had disappeared, until the name Reynolds jumped out at me.
I clicked on the link, expanding the article to full size, the top picture sending a sliver of fear through my heart. Kate stood sandwiched by her parents, wearing a stunning blue dress, a smile on her face that I recognized from when we were younger and she’d attempted to play the game, trying to fit their ridiculous mold of who she should be. I scrolled down further, disbelief filling me as I read about her great reconciliation with her family … and I stopped on the picture of her with my father, deep in conversation. In this one, Kate looked pale, her lips pursed, tension in her brow. The caption helpfully pointed out her relationship with my father, referenced our engagement and my death.
I sat there, staring at the screen, my temper steadily building with each moment that passed. What the hell was she thinking? She knew what her father was capable of—had already paid the price for it multiple times—how could she put herself in jeopardy like this? How could she take such big fucking risks?
I sent a text to Jasper, telling him to keep a closer eye on Kate, fear mixing in with the anger. I needed to get back to D.C., needed to know that she was safe. And more than anything, we needed to end this and get the dirt we needed on my father and hers, because if anything happened to her, I’d tear their fucking world down and dance on their graves.
Chapter Nine
Kate Reynolds and her sister, Jackie Gardner, were seen out at dinner in Alexandria on a double date. Jackie was in the company of her fiancé, Virginia Senator Will Clayton. Kate’s date was tall, dark, and handsome …
—Capital Confessions blog
Kate
There was something surreal about being on a date with a guy who wasn’t Matt. I was twenty-two and I’d only dated one guy in my entire life. Only kissed one guy, touched one guy, slept with one guy. I’d been so young when we’d become a couple that pretty much as soon as I’d started looking at boys as someone to kiss rather than just play ball with, I was in so deep that I didn’t see anyone but Matt. So to be on a date with someone who wasn’t him—even a double date that was more for appearances than anything else—felt really, really weird.
The guy Jackie and Will had set me up with wasn’t bad. His name was Paul and he worked as an attorney for the Environmental Protection Agency. He was cute and funny, and I didn’t have any major objection to him or anything, but he wasn’t Matt, and even if I had been in the market for a boyfriend, I just didn’t feel any sparks. Not even a half of a spark, which was made worse by the fact that I was on a date with one of the most obviously in love couples of all time. Each time Will looked at Jackie with a gleam in his eyes, each time she beamed back at him, another barb pierced my heart. I was so happy for them; Jackie had been through a rough childhood and she deserved a happy ending more than anyone, but they also reminded me of all I’d lost. Which definitely didn’t help with my date.
Jackie and Will arranged for Paul to take me home, using the excuse that they were going in the opposite direction, and no matter how many times I protested that I was fine going home on my own, apparently Paul was a gentleman. He insisted on walking me up to my door, likely recognizing that my neighborhood and building weren’t the greatest. The irony being that the hired gun somewhere out there probably posed a bigger threat to my personal safety than a junkie looking to score, but whatever. I let Paul play knight-in-shining-armor, figuring I’d never see him again.
Maybe I was a bitch for not giving him more of a fair shot, but I just didn’t see the point. I’d given away my heart long ago, and no matter what everyone said, I didn’t envision myself moving on to another guy. For better or worse, when I’d fallen in love, that had been it, and if he never returned, I’d rather live my life alone than try to find someone who would never fill the space in my heart that would always be Matt’s.
I unlocked my apartment door, not really sure how this was supposed to go down. I’d never done the whole standing-over-the-threshold awkward-date-ending moment. I didn’t want to say anything that would give him the wrong idea, but I also didn’t know how to let him down gently.
I smiled up at him, hoping it struck the right tone between polite and platonic. “Well, thanks for the evening.”
He grinned. “Thank you. I had a really great time.”
Gah. I didn’t want to say, me too, because it was a total lie, and would likely make him think that I was interested in a repeat. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, either.
So I didn’t say anythin
g at all; instead, I gave him a tense little smile. And then he swooped down, his lips coming dangerously close to mine. It was instinct. I twisted my head to the side, just as his mouth hit my skin, the kiss grazing my jaw like an arrow that had completely missed its mark.
This was too awkward for words.
“I should go,” I whispered, my cheeks on fire. I hesitated, remembering how I’d felt when I’d learned that Matt had been alive this whole time. It wasn’t the same, or even close to it, but I found myself blurting out the truth because I had a whole new appreciation for how much it sucked when someone toyed with your feelings.
“You seem like a really nice guy, and I’m sorry, it’s totally me, but I’m just not in a place where I’m interested in dating.”
A flash of disappointment filled his eyes and then he nodded. “Just out of a long relationship?”
I forced a smile. “Something like that.”
We said our good-byes, but not before he gave me another kiss, this time on my cheek, and then I was shutting my front door, my body sagging against the wall. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears, anger raging through me. Why was I here? Why was I at this point in my life? I should have been married by now, living in a house Matt and I had made a home. We should have been starting our lives together, and instead, I was going on fucking blind dates and coming home to an empty house while I worried if he was dead somewhere in a fucking war zone.
Fuck that.
I opened my eyes and pushed off the wall, and then I heard a voice coming from the dark bedroom.
“Did you have a nice night?”
I froze, my heart pounding, my mouth going dry. My gaze fixated on the sight of Matt, my Matt, walking out of the bedroom, his gaze on me.
He was back.
Matt
I’d been in Afghanistan, in the tribal regions, trying to find out what business Intech and Senator Reynolds might have with an Afghani warlord, and she’d been on a date, wearing a dress that was—
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