Talon

by Ronie Kendig

  Dane stood and walked away.

  Was he leaving? She twisted around and pushed to her feet. “Dane. Wait.”

  He hesitated then planted himself on the first row of black chairs.

  She didn’t want him leaving mad. “Please.” Panic clutched at her—she didn’t want him to leave at all. “It wasn’t my intention to hide this from you.”

  Okay, yeah, she was trying to hide the token. But only because she didn’t know what it meant. And she hated that everything that had happened since arriving in Djibouti left her with that thought—she didn’t know. She was sick of not knowing why her brother did this. Why he let her believe he was dead.

  She brushed the curls from her face. “Okay. Look, I’m sorry. That’s not true. I just…” She took the piece from her pocket and held it out to him.

  Eyes on her, he took it. Turned it over. “A flattened penny?” Questions danced in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I…” He shrugged.

  Taking it back, she lowered herself onto the vinyl padded seat next to him, rubbing her thumb along the smoothed surface. “After our parents’ funeral, Austin and I went back to our grandparents’ house.” The memory made her ache. “The house was filling with church members bringing casseroles, telling us all these stories about Mom and Dad, how wonderful they were, how they were in a better place, that we shouldn’t be sad.”

  An unbidden tear strolled down her cheek. She brushed it aside. “It was hard…so hard to sit there, thank them for coming, listen to them go on and on.” More tears. The rawness felt new, fresh, not as if it’d been eight years.

  “I always had a little more patience than Austin, but that day…” She tightened her lips as a tear rolled over them and bounced off her chin. “I just. Couldn’t. Take. It.” With the back of her hand, she dried the tears. “I went out back on the porch. Heard the train coming.”

  She blinked and looked at Dane through her tear-blurred vision. “Austin came out, grabbed my hand, and led me to the tracks. When we were kids visiting there, we’d put pennies on the track and wait for the train to flatten them.” She held up the penny. “That’s what we did that day. And we agreed to keep them with us—always.” Aspen tugged a chain from beneath her shirt and revealed a second penny, equally flattened and smoothed.

  His face remained impassive. As if he wasn’t catching on, but she knew better than that. Dane didn’t miss a thing—he even said so. In fact, he saw more than she could ever hope to notice.

  “Austin’s here, Dane. He’s here.” The tears and hurt squeezed past her will to hold them back. “Why? Why is he here? Why did he let them lie to us, let me believe he was dead?”

  Dane’s arms came around her and drew her close.

  Clinging to him, Aspen cried, relishing the strength in his arms wrapped around her. His chest was firm and toned, yet comfortably soft. His heart boomed against her ear, regular, steady. Constant.

  Dane. A veritable pillar of strength this whole time.

  Clenching his shirt in her fist, she let the shudders smooth out her angst. But an epiphany stilled her. “He wants me to find him.” Elation nudged her head off his chest but was quickly tempered with confusion.

  “What are you thinking? Tell me.” A smile seemed parked on his face, ready to flash.

  She flicked her gaze to him and felt a giddy sensation thinking she might actually be on the right track, that Dane already knew what she was going to say. That he agreed with her. But the thought…it proved excruciating to voice. Her throat constricted. She hated feeling this way, feeling weak, betrayed. “Why…?”

  “Go on. Finish that thought.”

  “Why would he want me to find him when he’s been hiding?”

  “What answers haunt that question?”

  She swallowed. “I’m not sure I want to go there.”

  “Explore every option.”

  Aspen gave a mental nod. “Either he’s in danger and can’t let me know he needs help.”

  “A bit far-fetched, considering his occupation.”

  “True, but not completely implausible.”

  “Agreed.” Dane brushed the curls from her face. “Go on.”

  “Or he’s…” Adrenaline squirted through her. “It’s a trap.”

  “Let me guess,” Dane said with a grin. “He got the brawn, you got the brains.”

  “That black eye says I have some brawn, too.” Her heart spun in crazy circles as his hand slid along her cheek then down, cupping her neck.

  “I deserved it.” Steel eyes seemed molten as they traced her face.

  Aspen’s mind cartwheeled as it caught up with what was happening as his face came closer, his dark lashes fringing eyes that dropped to her mouth.

  Oh man. They shouldn’t be doing this. But she’d felt connected to him since they set boot here in Africa. She had to admit she’d wanted this. For a while. A long while.

  “Hey!”

  Aspen jolted at the shout from behind.

  On his feet in a flash, Dane erupted in a storm. Brows tightly knit, fury rippled through his arms held to the side.

  “You sorry son of a—”

  “Timbrel!” Aspen shoved upward, planting herself between Dane and Timbrel, her hand on Dane’s chest. His pulse hammered under her palm. Fists balled, jaw tight, he was ready to fight.

  Candyman walked behind Timbrel, who trembled as she spoke, “I told you, told you to stay away from her or I would hurt you.”

  “Excuse me,” Aspen snapped. “You don’t speak for me.”

  “I do when you get played.”

  Candyman stood there, not speaking. Watching. As if…as if he knew something—they both knew something she didn’t.

  “What do you mean?”

  Another man stepped from the back, only then noticeable.

  Timbrel thumbed over her shoulder to the brawny man in ACUs. “This is Will Rankin.”

  Aspen’s mind ricocheted off the name. “You’re…you were Austin’s fire buddy.”

  Twenty-One

  Djibouti City, Djibouti

  What do you mean, you left it in the dirt for her to find?”

  With a glowering look, he climbed into the truck. “I know what I’m doing. You take care of your responsibility, Admiral, and I’ll take care of mine.”

  “What’s wrong with you, leading her straight to you?”

  He smirked. “How else do you kill a mouse than lure it out of its hole?”

  “But she’s with Burnett’s pawn.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “Do you realize who he is?”

  Seething, he stared across the room at the woman with raven hair and sky-blue eyes. “I know exactly who he is.” He let himself smile.

  “And how to take care of him.”

  Camp Lemonnier, Combined Joint Task Force—Horn of Africa Republic of Djibouti, Africa

  Still reeling from the near collision of good sense and passion—what got into him?—Cardinal wasn’t sure what this was about. And secretly, he was glad he’d been saved from caving to his carnal desires, to compromising himself, Aspen, and the mission with weakness.

  Cardinal shifted everything in him to the man Aspen had just named as her brother’s partner. “Lieutenant.” He nodded to Rankin.

  The man skirted a look to Timbrel.

  She crossed her arms, defiance granitelike on what could be a pretty face without all that attitude. “He doesn’t know you.”

  Cardinal inclined his head and cocked it. “Is he supposed to?” Why did it make his heart thump a million different ways that Aspen had hold of his forearm.

  Timbrel frowned. “You said you were on Austin’s team.”

  Ah. “Actually, no. I said I was with him in Kariz-e Sefid.” He looked at Rankin. “You weren’t there that day, were you?”

  The man shrugged. “No, I was sick. Heat exhaustion or food poisoning. Docs weren’t sure.”

  Cardinal returned his gaze to Timbrel. “Your point is…?”

  “He doesn’t know you, and you c
laimed to be friends with Austin.”

  Aspen turned to Rankin. “Hi, I’m Aspen.” She stuck out her hand and the L-T shook it, a blank expression glued to his face. “Do you know who I am?”

  “Well, no, ma’am.”

  She smiled. “I’m Austin’s twin sister, Aspen.”

  “He had a twin?”

  With a rueful look to Timbrel, Aspen nodded.

  Rankin’s face reddened. “Well, Austin didn’t talk much, so I’m not surprised I didn’t know about you.”

  The man was covering his tracks—badly. Which worked well for Cardinal. Really well. He offered his hand. “We’re sorry to have wasted your time, Lieutenant.”

  “Look,” Rankin said, his deadpanned mask falling away, “I’m real sorry about Austin, but he was a good friend to me. A combat buddy, so I just—if I can help, I want to.” He pointed to Cardinal’s hand. “You two married?”

  Cardinal slipped an arm around Aspen’s waist. “Newlyweds.”

  The guy grinned. “Guess that’s why we caught y’all lip-locked.”

  “Actually, we hadn’t…he…” Embarrassment made Aspen all the more appealing. Even if their lips hadn’t made contact yet, the accusation was enough to make her jittery.

  “Guess so.” Cardinal would not let Rankin think anything contrary about their cover story. It also served as a really good reminder to not slip up like that again. Never work the women. No matter what you feel.

  The words left a hot streak down the back of his neck and into his shoulder, tightening like a noose.

  They said their good-byes to the lieutenant and waited for the door to close. And that’s when Cardinal turned on Timbrel. “If you have a problem with me—”

  “Oh, I do.”

  “Then take it up with Burnett, but get off my back. And keep this between us. This op is top secret—you drag in everyone you think it takes to prove whatever whim you have against me, and we’ll end up with no answers or dead.” He pointed to Aspen. “We’re trying to find her brother. Get with us or get off the team.”

  Eyes narrowed, Timbrel seemed to feed off his anger. “Don’t you dare make yourself into a Boy Scout. I’ve seen the way you watch her, the way you ogle her.” She waved a hand at Aspen. “I knew she’d fall for you with all your charm and good looks. You’ve been working her from day one, and I warned her.”

  Candyman gently rested a hand on Timbrel’s arm.

  “Get off me!” She flung her arm up, free of the touch. “Stay away from her. She’s not a plaything.”

  “Enough!” Aspen snapped. “Timbrel, I get that you don’t like him, that you don’t like men in general, but that gives you no right to act like this. I am a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

  “You’re naive.”

  The words sliced through Aspen’s anger, leaving a gaping wound that showed clearly on her face. “I may be less experienced than you when it comes to…relationships, but I think I know my own mind. I know when I like someone and he likes me.”

  Timbrel’s nostrils flared. “He’s got one thing on his mind—like all men. And when he’s done here with this mission, he’s done with you.” Her lips flattened as she nailed Aspen with a piercing look. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I won’t pick up the pieces when he proves me right.” She stomped out of the building.

  Candyman started after her. “Tim—”

  “Bug off!” she shouted as she punched the door. As soon as she stepped into the blinding sun, she vanished.

  Pulse ratcheting down, Cardinal hung his head. He’d lost it—really lost it with Hogan. “I’m sorry.”

  As he turned so did Aspen, and her hand came to rest on his side. Her fingers danced off then back on. “No, it’s not your fault.” Rubbing her forehead, she looked back to the door. “I’m tired of her attitude about men, especially when she tries to destroy something special in my life. I mean, I understand she’s trying to protect me, but…” She smiled up at him. “There’s nothing to protect me from. I feel safe with you.”

  Cardinal’s breathing shallowed out.

  Another smile, this one slow and coy. Aspen tugged his shirt and gave him a smirk. “I trust you.”

  The words detonated like a nuclear blast against his conscience. “Don’t.”

  She almost laughed as her brows slid in and out in question. “What?”

  God, help me! He was doing it—using her, manipulating her. Like he vowed not to do. She’d fallen for every play he’d dealt. Trust him? That would be the biggest mistake of her life. “Don’t trust me.”

  This time, the smile lost its flirtation and became nervous. “What do you mean? Of course I trust you.” She reached toward his face.

  He grabbed her hand. Hated to do this. It had to be done. “Don’t. Trust. Me.” Leave. Walk out. Sever this thing that’s growing between you and her. “Don’t ever trust me.” Just tell her everything and get it over with. It was a sarcastic thought, but it slingshot back at him. Tell her.

  Cardinal stepped back. Stared at her. Studied her. Memorized her confusion. Thinly veiled fear speared his heart. She didn’t trust him.

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  Of course she didn’t. Couldn’t. Because she only knew a small piece of the truth. “I have things to take care of.”

  “Dane.”

  As he walked away, he let his eyes slide shut briefly. It wasn’t even his name, or even his identity. Dane was the man she married. Not Cardinal. Not the real man behind the religious moniker. She didn’t know him. That was good—it meant she was safe from that man.

  The truth wounded him. Strange, he thought as he pushed open the door, that he even cared. He shouldn’t. It took only one small step to become the man he hated. To blur the ethical and moral lines between doing a job and abusing it.

  Embroiled in the heat and dust that was distinctly Djibouti, he let the brilliance blind him. If only it could sear the image of Aspen Courtland’s hurt from his mind.

  But no, he wanted to remember that. To memorize it. So he’d never forget. And never make the mistake again.

  “Girl, just come back.”

  Aspen cradled her head in her hand as she Skyped with Brittain, who was on the other side of the world. “I can’t.” She fought the urge to cry. There’d been enough tears lately, and she was through being weak. “Austin is here. I am not going home till I find him and figure out what’s going on.”

  “Is that a ring on your finger?”

  Aspen straightened, feeling the heat in her face. “Yeah.” She slid it off. “It’s part of our cover while we’re here. In fact, we’re supposed to be staying with some missionary in the city, not here on the base. But Talon’s still recovering from a cut on his paw and the heat.”

  “What are you going to do about Mr. Don’t Trust Me?”

  Aspen groaned. “I have no idea.” She raised her hands. “What does that mean?”

  “Hello?” Brittain laughed. “It means don’t trust him.”

  Rolling her eyes, Aspen sighed. “But why would he tell me that? It makes no sense—and it defies what I feel. When he said it, I just couldn’t move. It wouldn’t…process, especially after he almost kissed me.”

  “What?”

  Shoot. “Um…never mind about that.”

  “Oh no.” Brittain’s face drew closer on the screen. “No, you can’t do that to me, girl. You need to spill. Now.”

  “Look, it’s…an unusual situation.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  No, she wasn’t going to lie about this, wouldn’t downplay what she felt. “I like him.” She looked at the flat surface that held her friend’s visage. “He’s strong—internally and externally. He has helped me stay strong when I just wanted to puddle up. And even though he said not to trust him, there aren’t many people I’d trust the way I trust him.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “I know what you’re going to say, so don’t say it.”

  “All right. I won’t. But you need to hear it anyway—I can
smell what’s happening from all the way over here. You’re falling for him, hard. Be careful, Aspen. If this guy is warning you not to trust him”—she let out an “are you dumb” laugh—“then you probably need to be listening to the man. Ya know?”

  Fingers digging in the curls at the back of her head, Aspen nodded. “I know, but…”

  “Look, girl. The only time you’ve got a bigger butt than me is when you’re trying to rationalize.”

  Aspen laughed. “Normally I’d agree. But this isn’t rationalizing. I… it feels different.”

  “What does?”

  “What I feel for him”—she knew Brittain would jump on that, so she leapt ahead—“and the motivation behind what he said.”

  “You have such a good heart. Always have.”

  Aspen cringed. She knew what would come next. “But…”

  Silence stretched between them, and she watched her friend, who stared back unmoving. “Aspen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Someone’s at your door.”

  Lying on her bunk with the laptop, she glanced over her shoulder. Through the small filmy square window, she saw a shadowy form.

  Two solid raps hit the metal door—and banged against her heart as she rolled off the bunk. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  “No!” Brittain said with a laugh. “What if it’s him? I’ll go so you two can talk.”

  After a quick good-bye, Aspen hurried and opened the door.

  A man wearing ACUs saluted. “Aspen Courtland?”

  “Yes?”

  “Here, ma’am. This just arrived for you.” He handed her a cream envelope.

  Three-by-four inches, the envelope was small and only had her name written in all block lettering. “Weird.” When she looked up, he’d already started away. “Thanks,” she called after him.

  Back in her room, she dropped onto the gray mattress and crisscrossed her legs. Opening the envelope, she wondered who’d written it. She plucked a single sheet of paper out. Opened it.

  Did you find the coin?

  Boys’ orphanage, tomorrow, Djibouti City