by Mary Calmes
I looked at him. “What the hell was that?”
He appeared confused. “A metaphor. Clearly.”
I pointed several feet away. “Go stand there.” He rolled his eyes but moved, and I rounded on Efrem. “You need to leave.”
“Darius, I—”
“You need to go,” I demanded icily. “Build your case some other way than on the bones of our dead relationship.”
He looked like I hit him, he squinted, but I saw the welling tears anyway, saw the wobble of his chin, the clench of his jaw, and heard the sharp indrawn breath. If I’d hit him, it would have hurt less, that was clear.
“Dead?” he whispered. “I’ve been holding on for dear life for seventeen years, and you’re telling me ‘us’ is already dead?”
After so long, after so many deaths, so much blood, pain, and heartache, this—Efrem coming apart in front of me—this was what was going to break me down.
“You never thought about me?”
I swallowed so I wouldn’t speak.
“I searched so hard for you that I was still a captain by the time I got out.”
Wow. Still a captain after that long. He must have been passed over for promotion at least twice. He hadn’t been a total fuckup, they hadn’t kicked him out—but they must have quietly separated him.
“I have the bare minimum of security clearance because whatever I’m given, I’ve used to search for you.”
I remembered his voice when he was hurting, and this was what it sounded like, soft, crackly, the hitches of breath and the raw, dark look in his eyes. If this was an act, he was missing his calling, and moving to Hollywood should have been a priority.
“No private detective I’ve ever hired could find anything about you. I got a lead a few years ago because I found your friend Detective Stiel, and when I showed him your picture, he said your name was Terrence Moss but he had no idea where you were either.”
The urge to touch him was almost unbearable and watching him break down was torture because I loved him, plain and simple, always had, always would. Even after his betrayal in Detroit—or what I was almost certain was one—it didn’t change that, just my plans for my future. But now he was right here in front of me explaining that he’d never, ever stopped trying to find me.
Maybe, just possibly, I’d misread things—not that it mattered… but still….
“You looked for me?”
“Of course,” he rasped, his voice cracking. “How could I not?”
It was a jumble in my head, what I wanted and what seemed possible were so far apart and, because it was Efrem, I was off balance. Because when you were in love, that’s what you were—tipped sideways, your feet not quite touching the ground. It was what love did: turned you upside-down.
Fuck.
“You’re a Homeland Security agent,” I said, taking a step toward him instead of away. “You know that you being here is—”
“When did you stop loving me?” he asked, and I heard how broken his voice was, saw how lost he looked, like I’d ripped away his anchor line and left him adrift. “Just so I can know how long I’ve been walking around without it.”
“I used to be so control of my life,” I murmured before I rushed him and wrapped him up in my arms.
He didn’t hug me back, just stood there and shuddered, like he was going to fly apart.
People complicated everything. When it was just me, alone, I would have never cared about Marko turning a guy into fish food or if Landry’s shop was close to Trevan’s restaurant or if Lee wasn’t being careful with flying his car all over the world or if Mancuso shot Daoud or the other way around. I would not have saved Ceaton, would not have checked up on Duncan many times over the years, or made certain that my sweet next-door neighbor didn’t die and make her dogs orphans. I’d let people near me who cluttered up my life with… well, life. I hadn’t been living in so long that I forgot what it was like to be responsible to, and for, others.
“Bored,” Lee announced from behind me.
I groaned, and Efrem caught his breath and nuzzled his face into the hollow of my throat.
“You know it’s a lie,” I told him.
“What part?” He inhaled deeply, stopped leaning on me, and lifted his arms to coil them around my waist.
“You know I could never stop loving you. It’s permanent, has been since the night we walked home together from the bar that time.”
“For me it was the first time I saw you. I felt like I was hit by a lightning bolt. I knew I’d never be the same.”
I closed my eyes as his arms tightened, and he pressed tight against me, shivering from the contact, not the cold. I knew him; he’d been raised in Connecticut, the man would have done well in Siberia, he was so immune to Arctic temperatures. So it could only be one thing, and that was me. I was making him tremble.
“I would never, could never, do anything to hurt you in any way,” he said gruffly between sniffles. “I’ve lived all this time, had a career, friends, family, possessions, all of it, everything you’re supposed to have for a happy life, and it’s been nice, it’s been fine, but I haven’t been happy or present or even really living since you’ve been gone.”
I was the exact same. I’d swaddled myself first in missions and a life of service to my country, and then to the dollar, and then to the challenge of the untouchable mark that I’d never failed to achieve, and finally was handed a position only a handful of people would ever even know existed, but still I walked around feeling like I’d left the iron on at home. Like I was missing something, like I’d forgotten to do something, and my world could implode at any moment.
Of course it was Efrem.
He was my other half, made for me, and living without him, once my life was no longer a series of split-second choices, was never a viable solution. When you were moving at the speed of sound, being alone made sense, but as soon as the scenery outside the window became recognizable shapes instead of a steady blur, you longed for home. Efrem was the only home I had, and the constant ache in my chest was the yearning for him. It was kind of late in the day to have my epiphany, but as I clutched at the man I loved, I was thankful to have it at all.
“I’m only me,” he whispered, “and did I fuck up? Yeah, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have taken you back to the office. I should have driven you somewhere secluded and told you that I love—I love you, and that I can’t—I won’t be away from you even one more second. I don’t care what has to happen, just let me keep you and my family. That’s all that matters.”
“Everything else is expendable, huh?” I asked, rubbing my face in his hair, letting the warmth of his body seep into mine.
“Yes.”
“Your career?”
“Yes.”
“Friends, colleagues, you don’t care what they think?”
“No, I don’t care.”
“You have an important job.”
“That a hundred people could do better.”
I doubted that, but like me, distracted, we weren’t on top of our game.
“I really do have other things to do besides watch you maul your man,” Lee complained, sounding ten kinds of surly.
The “your man” was nice, though, and so I let Efrem go and turned to look at Lee.
“Yeah?” he asked, eyebrows lifted, appearing hopeful.
I gestured for him, and he charged back over.
“Why?” I asked Lee.
“Why what?”
I just stared at him.
“Why Dubai, you mean.”
“Yes,” I said as Efrem pressed against my side again, fitting like he always had, under my arm, his around my back, his left hand splayed over my abdomen.
“Am I talking in front of Homeland?” Lee asked, tipping his head at Efrem.
“Yeah, go ahead,” I replied and heard Efrem take a breath because just the simple words put us on solid footing. Yes, I needed to talk to him, and yes, we had to figure out everything that had gone on in that office between my
paranoia and his need to know—wires may have gotten crossed or, more likely, tangled up in a snarl of uncertainty.
“There’s an issue with a sheikh who wants us to take in his daughter.”
I sighed. I was going to have to go. The vault was always the one who took in people. “And?”
“And he doesn’t want her falling into the hands of anyone who would use her as leverage against him, but more importantly, he wants her to be a doctor and not an ornament.”
“So he needs her to disappear.”
“For a time, yes, until this one particular man—” He stopped suddenly and grinned at me, just in case I missed it, just in case I wasn’t smart enough to follow his clever subtext, “—is no longer in power.”
He was ridiculously transparent. “You want to kill this guy instead of taking in the girl.”
“I do.”
Of course he did, any chance to kill someone and he was happy. “Tell me about the would-be groom.”
“Weapons dealer, guns, gas, you name it, he’s got it.”
“Selling them to?”
“Very disreputable men,” he finished with a wink.
“Well then.”
“But then we get what from the girl’s father for doing him this service?” Lee asked.
“I’m sure that if I need him to house anything we find can’t be easily disposed of once we raid this man’s weapon stores, that he’ll be more than willing to help us out.”
He nodded.
“Broker that deal, and if you have any trouble, I’ll get on a plane.”
“I’ll send my plane for you,” he informed me.
“Fine.”
Lee turned to leave, but I reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Did you get rid of that gun I gave you last week?”
“The one your friend gave you to get rid of?”
Talking to him was going to give me hives. “How many guns have I given you?”
He had to think. “Three. No, four. No, yes, three.”
“You’re exhausting,” I said tiredly. I really needed to be alone with Efrem, and the thought crossed my mind that if I just shot Lee, I’d at least have that faster. Making him my bishop may have been an overly hasty decision.
Quick flashing grin, just to be annoying, “So I’ve been told.”
“What was I thinking?”
“I still have no earthly idea.”
“Who are you?” Efrem asked, and Lee looked at him.
“We met last time,” Lee reminded him. “Did you forget already? How old are you?”
Efrem stepped away from me and crossed his arms, scowling.
“What?”
“I get that your world is scary, so how has he not been shot?”
“This is an excellent question,” I said, chuckling, taking a breath, letting the tension roll out of me. “Come inside,” I invited Efrem before turning toward the house.
“Am I leaving now, or am I coming inside too?” Lee asked cheekily.
“Go,” I ordered, not turning around, on a mission now to get inside and warm and Efrem Lahm talking and then, hopefully, God willing, into my bed.
“Did I see Farley earlier?” Lee called over to me.
“Don’t kill Farley,” I insisted, hearing how belligerent I sounded as Efrem moved up beside me, following closely, then slipping his hand into mine.
“He didn’t take the contract out on you, did he?”
Efrem sucked in a breath beside me.
“No, he was after my neighbor.”
“I didn’t think he did. That would have been ballsy, and Farley doesn’t strike me as particularly brave.”
“That contract is dead. There’s nobody worth worrying about who will take it.”
“You talked to Daoud?”
“I did.”
“And Mancuso?”
“And Mancuso!”
“Besides me, that’s everybody.”
“You forgot Isaak.”
Even from how far away I was now, I heard the disgusted scoff behind me. “That fat fuck Russian, he’ll get it in some brothel, mark my words.”
I didn’t care enough to find out what Lee had against Isaak. “Consider the contract closed.”
“You want me to take out Eastman?”
“No,” I said irritably, stopping and turning around to look at him. “Just do your job.”
“Fine. But if I see Farley after this, can I kill him?”
“No. Marko has dibs.”
“Who?”
I growled at Lee, which Efrem smiled over. Apparently I was appealing while all petulant and gruff. “I told you about—”
“Oh yes, yes, Mercer’s guy,” Lee answered as he opened the car door.
“Yeah, so—”
“No, that’s fine.”
“What’s fine?”
“I read Marko’s bio,” he said happily. “From everything I saw, him killing Farley would be excruciating. I’m good to watch.”
“What did Farley ever do to you?”
“He blew up a yacht I was on.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
“A yacht?” Efrem asked into the void of sound, squeezing my hand still in his. “That you were on?”
Lee made a noise in the back of his throat. “It was a big yacht, and the end I was on didn’t detonate, merely sank, but still… he was responsible, and there was nothing out there but a lot of water and a crapton of sharks.”
“And yet,” I said, gesturing at him.
“I didn’t say I was without a backup plan, but that was hardly the point.”
“You and Farley are not on equal playing fields. Cut the man some slack.”
He winced.
“Please.”
“Fine,” he begrudgingly agreed.
“Call me if you need me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Like I need you to kill people.”
I pivoted and headed for the path leading to my front door.
“He’s just going to—and you just ordered him to—”
“I did,” I said, yanking him after me, jogging now toward the front door.
“Why are you hurrying?” he asked softly. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“God only knows who else will show up.”
He followed along, no plea to stop, no order to slow down, not even a gentle request to let him think for a second. There was only him keeping up.
Chapter Eight
ONCE WE were inside, I slammed the door closed behind me and locked it before rounding on him. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to yell at him or kiss him.
“Are you going to take my coat?”
Shit. Leave it to Efrem to make with the niceties.
I gestured at the couch. “Just throw it over there.”
He took it off and draped it over the closest high-backed leather chair instead. It was a good chair, done in that quilted style. The whole room was done in complementary shades of brown that made it warm, even in a big space.
The moment we were both without our cold-weather gear, he crossed his arms and faced me, looking both contrite and pissed off at the same time.
“I want to hear the story from the last time I saw you,” he demanded, glaring at me.
“You tell me about this turnaround first.”
The scowl furrowed his brows. “There’s no turnaround, you misread the situation entirely, and you know it.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t deflect,” he warned me, taking a step closer. “You thought something horrible, and you need to apologize.”
I crossed my arms. “It looked bad.”
“The point is that you misjudged me, and you know better.”
My eyes searched his.
“Apologize.”
“Why were you pushing?”
“Because I wanted to know where the hell you’d been for so long.”
“You came off more rendition than reunion.”
He smirked. “Is that supposed to be
clever?”
“You had an agenda in that room.”
He nodded. “I have no idea what happened to you, but did I think that maybe if I got you to tell me everything that you could be safe and be back to being mine—there is that possibility.”
“So you admit that you were pushing, and not just out of personal interest.”
“It was all personal,” he informed me. “It’s only ever been that.”
I stared at him, weighing the past and the present and every little thing I knew about Efrem Lahm.
“There’s no one who knows me better than you.”
I was thinking the same thing.
“And you forgot that while we were in that room together.”
It was true.
“I’ve thought about our conversation over and over, replayed it in my head a million times at this point, and I’ll give you that, somewhere in the middle, it went from just wanting to know about you to wanting to know where the bodies are buried.”
I could not stop staring at his eyes, the way they caught the light, the blue in the depths of the green that you didn’t notice unless you were close. Most people thought Efrem’s eyes were pale green—even up close that could be the case—but with me they always darkened almost immediately. His mother had noticed the very first Christmas we visited her, the first winter after we met.
“Oh, well now,” she said, smiling at me. “I thought only his father’s eyes did that, but apparently my son sees something he likes.”
I turned in question.
“My husband’s eyes got dark like that the first time he saw me,” she said, nudging my side with her elbow. It was adorable, and I’d been under her spell almost instantly. What she was telling me was important. Efrem’s eyes got deep and dark when he was looking at me, as they were now, as they’d been that day in the interrogation room. He couldn’t fake that honesty.
“Shit.”
He grunted smugly.
“We were both ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
“I doubted you and then my instincts kicked in.”
“And I was so involved in wanting to know everything that I lost sight of the fact that I had you right there in front of me.”
I took a breath. “It was painful to think that all I was, was a means to an end to you.”
