Jack stopped him there. “You’re not being fair. You get a little leeway because of what you’ve been through and yeah it hurts that she’s not here and you want her to be. But you’ve gotta look at it from her side as well.”
“I know, I know,” Aiden said dismissively. “She’d just lost her dad and that does things to you. You think I don’t remember what that was like?” He had momentarily forgotten whom he was talking to and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Jack. I… I’m sorry.”
Jack had been an infant when their parents were killed. He had no memory of either of their parents and knew them only through the stories Aiden and their grandmother told, their faces only in the static images of photographs. It was true, he feel the same pain at losing their parents that Aiden did; it was hard to feel sorrow for people you didn’t remember. His pain was of an entirely different variety; the pain of what might have been and what can never be known or felt; knowing a part of himself second-hand; growing up with the looks of pity from teachers, family friends, even his classmates.
“You didn’t recognize me,” Jack said in a clipped tone. “When you first woke up. You looked through me and I could see you thought I was lying about who I was. It was weeks before you trusted me enough to relax when I was in the room, to say what you were really thinking.” Having started, Jack couldn’t stop. “Do you have any idea how painful that is? To have someone you love not know you? I didn’t want to be here half of the time.”
“But you stayed,” Aiden interrupted, his anger threatening to bubble over. “You didn’t run away; you stuck by my side, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. You stick by people when they’re sick or hurt or just need help.”
“I stayed because you’re my brother,” Jack snapped. There was a coldness to the remark that took Aiden aback and prevented him from responding right away. Jack continued. “You practically raised me and I know I wasn’t always easy to get along with and I didn’t listen a lot of the time. You put up with crap from me so I figured I owed it to you to put up with whatever crap you did or said and I knew it wasn’t really you. I had to believe that you would come back to yourself eventually. And it isn’t as though I had much choice in the matter. I don’t exactly have the necessary resources to just take off.”
There was an awkward moment while Jack caught his breath. Aiden looked away from his brother, focusing on a flaw in the paint job on the wall. He had the urge to cry but refused to let it happen. He had been working so hard to recover. It wasn’t as though he’d ever lost his sense of self when his memory was impaired. He had been able to see the strained looks on the faces of his family and friends but it was difficult to decide how much was from lingering worry and how much was personal hurt.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be hurt or disappointed in Zoe for the way she’s… handled things. I’m only saying that she’s human. You said yourself, you two hadn’t talked about what you were. I didn’t even know I should call her about it; I only did because she’s your boss. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t there for those first hours after her father died, but it doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t there when she needed you.”
Aiden breathed deeply, soaking in his brother’s surprisingly keen observations. He had to have been discussing things with someone else. Maybe their grandmother had guessed at more than what Aiden was willing to say.
“Just… try not to let it get to you too much,” Jack finally said, approaching Aiden and sitting next to him. Whenever Jack began to ramble about something passionately, whether it was baseball, a girl he liked, or a perceived injustice suffered, he would stand and pace. He would only stop moving when he’d calmed down and worked through whatever emotion he’d been keeping bottled up. “Don’t let the hurt make you mad.”
“I love her,” Aiden whispered. “I knew it right then… as the accident was happening… I wanted to tell her.”
“And when you remembered, she wasn’t there to tell,” Jack followed Aiden’s train of thought. There was another long pause and it felt like the discussion might finally be over. Aiden closed his eyes and sighed deeply, his frustration melting away until all that remained was aching. There was the physical ache that came from unquenchable desire. He’d been with her only the once – well, twice, actually – but as the details were recalled to his memory, they were all he could think about. There was the mental ache from trying to force to the surface that which refused to be commanded. The ache of needing comfort and not receiving it. And finally, the ache of loss. It echoed the constant ache that had settled in his chest when his parents died. In fact, the loss of Zoe had resurrected the strength of that old ache from something tolerable to a constant throbbing.
“She might come back,” Jack said with quiet hope. “When she’s had some time to… process everything, she might come back for you.”
Aiden huffed. Would he want her if she came back? Could he trust her not to hurt him again? Jack had given him a brief pat on the shoulder before leaving and Aiden was left to face the truth. He loved her and so long as he did, he would want her. He wasn’t sure how many times she would have to hurt him before he stopped loving her, but it was certainly more than the once. And somewhere in his gut a warmth spread that told him, she was worth it.
Lying in bed after this latest setback in his recovery, Aiden longed for Zoe to return. He wanted her to come to him and apologize but that wasn’t likely to happen, even if she did come back. Not if, when. When she came back. Soon he would be going back to work part-time. It would be easier to hear about what she was up to when he was there. And when she came back, he would confront her. He would make her face him and… And that’s where his planning left off and his wondering began. If she did think about him, if she did want him, if he could show her that he was himself once more…
****
Zoe thought she’d seen David at least two more times in her travels and abruptly left those cities much as she had Paris. She had made her way to Prague and marveled at the Gothic towers and spires nestled among the contemporary glass and metal used in much of the post-Cold War construction. She stood on the Charles Bridge gazing at the Vltava below.
She had mentioned the first imagined sighting of David to Mason when she’d called to check up on him. He had told her that there was no word from Agent Boon and that he had learned more about the merger her father had been involved in negotiating at the time of his death, but wouldn’t go into details. Instead he chose to focus on the David issue.
“The chances of you running into him like that… It’s just not going to happen, Zoe,” Mason said with certainty. “You. Are. Safe. I haven’t run the company into the ground on you yet. Everyone here is doing well…”
“Everyone?” she couldn’t help but ask. She was reluctant to bring Aiden’s name up. She had more success in pushing thoughts of him aside than she did thoughts of her father; of course, she would never be able to see or board a plane without her pulse picking up and sweat pooling in all the places on her body where it could pool. Still, every time she saw a couple quietly holding hands or casually leaning against one another, she felt a small throb of guilt in her throat, a hollow ache in her arms. She woke during the night sometimes, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest, her arms needing something more than each other to wrap around and hold. The honeymooning couples with their overt displays of affection weren’t as bad as the smaller intimacies she witnessed.
If it hadn’t been the same day as her father’s accident… If there had been another week for the two of them to figure out what they were to each other, what they wanted to be… If she had buckled down and just stayed…
Mason knew what she wouldn’t ask. “That reminds me, I talked to Aiden the other day. He came in to see about getting back to work part-time now that he’s home and doing better. Still has some occasional episodes but is starting to go stir-crazy with being home all the time.”
“Episodes?” Zoe aske
d with unmasked concern. “Is it… Are they serious?”
“He didn’t go into too much detail. Seems embarrassed about them but they’re related to the accident. I actually asked about it the last time I talked to Agent Boon. He looked into it to see if there might be something about it related to Peters.”
“And was there?” Zoe sat up straighter as she waited for Mason’s response. If there was something to connect Aiden’s accident with what happened to her father… Somehow that would make it all a little easier to handle. If it were all part of the same larger problem, fixing one would fix the other. Or at least that’s what she wanted to believe.
“Well, his car was tampered with but it wasn’t done in a way that Agent Boon thought was related to Peters,” Mason said, listening for the inevitable sigh of disappointment from Zoe on the other end before continuing. “Now, that doesn’t mean Peters didn’t have someone else do it for him; only that it wasn’t done by him personally. Brake line was cut. Last guy whose car Peters rigged was a much more sophisticated job. If Peters is behind it, Aiden’s lucky it was outsourced. Might be the only reason he’s alive today.”
“But why would Uncle David want to kill or hurt Aiden? He was one of the guys set up to take the fall for him, sure, but it isn’t as though Aiden was in on it or could implicate him in any way,” Zoe argued.
“Who else would want Aiden hurt?” Mason countered. “The Peters thing is the only thing Aiden was even remotely linked to where people have been killed.” There was a beat before Mason apologized. “I’m sorry, Zoe. I shouldn’t have put it that way—”
“No,” she reassured him. “You’re right. Uncle David is the only person I know of who is capable of doing something like that to Aiden. And I can’t think of anyone else who could possibly want him dead.” She sighed as she pressed to remember what it was they had been discussing before heading down this dark tangent. “But Aiden said he’s ready to come back to work?” Did he ask about me?
“He wants to come back whether he’s completely ready or not,” Mason told her. “I’ve left the decision up to Mrs. Henry. She’s got her new hire in the department but it’s taking a while to train her up and they could use the extra help before they fall too far behind. Aiden remembers enough of the details to be able to be useful while everyone adjusts.”
“Good, good,” Zoe murmured.
“Everyone’s wondering how you’re doing, of course,” Mason said, slipping back into coded territory. “Whether you’re enjoying your travels, when you’ll be back, and about the case. The gossip mill seems to finally be quieting down as far as David’ sudden departure.”
“You can tell everyone…” She paused as she considered the last few weeks of sleeping in foreign hotels, sightseeing at over-crowded tourist spots, and the panic attacks that had her doubled over with concerned strangers chattering at her in words and phrases she didn’t understand. “Tell everyone that the change of pace has been helpful, that it’s helping me to clear my mind.”
“You’re still miserable, aren’t you?” Mason wasn’t buying her false upbeat tone.
“No more or less than I would be at home,” Zoe amended. “And the views are much better.”
“Just remember you can come home at any time,” he assured her. “Say the word and I’ll be at the airport to pick you up. My things will be out of your office before you can get your bags out of the trunk.”
“Thanks, Mason.” She missed him. Maybe it wasn’t the trip itself that was a bad idea; maybe it was that she’d tried to do it alone. So many of the places she was visiting were ones she had talked about seeing with her dad. It made her miss him all the more but not always in a sad way. She could hear his voice telling her about what it had been like when he and her mother visited Copenhagen on their honeymoon or the time he’d been in Brussels on a business trip and all he saw of the city was whatever he glanced from the window of the cab that brought him back and forth from the airport.
There were moments she instinctively knew she would have loved to experience with Aiden as well; watching the sun coming up over the line of the Swiss Alps from the warmth of her hotel room bed; catching her reflection in the waters of the canals of Venice as the gondolier steered and lectured about the city’s history; sipping coffee and munching on a sandwich at a café in Madrid. Those moments caused her breath to catch and her legs to tremble. They were unexpected and unwanted, serving as a painful reminder of what she had undoubtedly ruined.
She had suffered another of those moments as she caught sight of a couple posing with one of the statues on the bridge in Prague. They were taking turns with the camera, goading each other into increasingly ridiculous poses as their laughter rang loud and clear. Zoe’s was not the only head to turn and watch the lovers enjoying their time together. They weren’t in that honeymoon bubble, oblivious to those passing by; at least part of what they were doing was for the wandering crowd.
The smiles Zoe saw proved they were succeeding nicely. She felt her own lips tick up and recalled the way she and Aiden had talked before he kissed her by the fountains at Cali Mall Plaza, her impulse to remove her shoes and walk barefoot along the fountain’s edge. They hadn’t been there yet, but she knew that it wouldn’t have taken long before she and Aiden started pushing each other to indulge themselves that way, the way they had when they were children. Daring one another to do something crazy but fun, not caring who was watching, enjoying the laughter instead of taking it as condemnation or judgment.
Zoe turned her back on the happy couple and walked along the bridge in the other direction towards Prague Castle.
Chapter 26
As she passed a bench on her way back to her hotel, Zoe watched a woman about her own age stretch out and pull her coat up around herself like a blanket. The look of someone settling in for the night is easily recognizable and it struck Zoe at a time when she had been feeling useless. Instead of walking past the woman and hoping the local authorities would leave her be, Zoe approached the bench.
“Is this seat taken?” It occurred to her as the woman started and almost rolled off her slight perch that she might not understand English. “Oh, um…”
“Please, sit,” the woman said with an accent that Zoe had difficulty placing. As Zoe moved to sit, the other woman started to get up and check her pockets to be sure she had everything preparing to move to another bench.
“Wait,” Zoe said, reaching out to grasp the other’s arm but retracting at the last moment. “I was… I didn’t mean for you to leave like that.”
“It’s fine,” the woman said but she didn’t stop with her preparations.
“No, I was just curious… Were you going to… sleep… here?”
Mortification flashed across the woman’s face. “I will be fine,” she assured Zoe as she started walking away.
Zoe went after the woman. “Wait, if you need a place to sleep tonight, my hotel room has an extra bed. There was a mix-up and… well, it will be more comfortable than that bench. Of course, it might involve some awkward conversation with yours truly but the bed has a down comforter so…” Zoe smiled self-consciously and was rewarded when the other woman chuckled. “I swear, I’m not dangerous,” Zoe continued in a self-deprecating manner. “I’m just one of those nosey Americans who can’t help butting in where I don’t belong.”
“A bed would be nice,” the woman said. “Even if it means sharing a room with an American.” She held her hand out to Zoe. “I’m Amelia. Amelia Barington.”
“Zoe Dunmore.” She jerked her head up along the sidewalk. “Come on. The hotel’s only a few blocks away. If you’re up for it, you can tell me about why you’re sleeping on a bench in Prague while we split something from room service.”
“Oh, I could not possibly – the food that is. As for why I am here…” Amelia shrugged. “I had to get out of a bad situation back home and… It is not really an interesting tale. I do not wish to bore you.”
“I could really use a d
istraction,” Zoe said, ushering Amelia into the lobby of the hotel. Amelia glanced around at the others in the lobby, self-conscious of her appearance. It was impossible for Zoe to tell outside in the darkening evening, but Amelia’s coat was fraying, and dirt and bruises darkened large patches of her exposed skin. Zoe hurried her to the elevators and up to the room.
Once safely inside, Zoe set about turning down the second double bed and giving Amelia the brief tour of the room. She fetched a towel and suggested Amelia relax in a hot bath while Zoe ordered room service. Gratitude shone through Amelia’s exhausted features as she thanked Zoe and shut herself up in the bathroom.
Out of Amelia’s sight, Zoe began to question what it was she had just done. She did not regret having made the gesture and she didn’t think she was in any danger from her new guest. But Amelia’s bruises had caught her by surprise and their unknown source was cause for concern.
When Amelia emerged from the bathroom wrapped in one of the plush robes, her hair hanging in dark wet strands against the crisp white terrycloth and her face clear of dirt, some of Zoe’s anxiety dissipated. The bruises were older than she’d initially thought more yellow than purple and they didn’t cover as much of the surface of her skin.
Amelia plopped down on the foot of the bed Zoe said was hers and used a second towel to dry her hair. A tray from room service with some sandwiches sat on the dresser next to the muted television. “Help yourself,” Zoe insisted. She had a salad in her lap and was furiously stabbing at the greens with a fork.
“Thank you,” Amelia said for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.
“It’s nothing,” Zoe said, flushing lightly. Seeing how little Amelia had and knowing how easily she could afford such simple necessities as food and a place to sleep had triggered Zoe’s feelings of guilt. If she was going to feel guilty though, it was a nice change to feel the simple guilt of privilege rather than the frustrating miasma that had been plaguing her for several weeks – survivor’s guilt over the death of her father, the guilt from having left Aiden to face a difficult recovery alone, even guilt for having abandoned her father’s company after going to so much trouble to take on the responsibility of being successor.
Promised Box Set Page 29
