Instigator

by Fiona Quinn

  That thought put a little smile on her lips. A bunch of little Aids creating havoc, the apples not falling too far from the trees. Lula had laid an outfit for her across the bed. She must have bought it in the hotel dress shop. When a knock sounded, Christen went to the door thinking it was Lula coming back with some shoes.

  She wrapped a towel around herself and peeked through the security lens.

  There stood Gator.

  When she opened the door to him, his gaze traveled down to her feet then back up to her eyes. And they brightened like he was feverish. He stepped in and shut the door softly behind him.

  “I just wanted to tell you good-bye. I have a taxi waiting to take me to the hospital to pick up Blaze, then we’re headed back stateside.” He swallowed. He looked miserable. “I wanted to wish you the very best of luck back at your FOB and safe return home.” He kept his hands at his side, fingers curled in. His body was rigid. There was nothing warm or merry about him as there had been before they’d trekked back to the headhunter’s village. Again, Christen thought something significant had happened, and she’d missed it.

  He looked like a man who had been beaten down.

  She wanted him to look at her, really look at her. To connect. “Good-bye? Not…” Tears pressed against her eyelids.

  His good-bye felt permanent.

  They would never see each other again.

  She knew it. She knew it in her bones.

  “You’re telling me good-bye?” she stammered still not quite able to adjust to the reality of this moment.

  “Yes, ma’am.” His voice was husky with emotion.

  Why is he doing this?

  “It was an honor to work with you.”

  That wasn’t Gator. That was… a Marine. Christen had no power in her body. She crumpled into the chair. She was too stunned to have a coherent thought other than – I thought we were in love. I thought this was the love of my lifetime. He’s saying good-bye.

  “Why are you doing this Gator?” She shook herself to get her mind in lock step. She felt her system swell with anger. “You’re lying to me.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Stop with the god damned ma’ams. The assignment is over. Tell me what the hell it is you think you’re doing right now.” Anger felt better. More powerful. Right.

  He opened his mouth and tried a word and shut his mouth again.

  “Please,” Christen shifted tone. Softened her gaze. Tried to be welcoming of what he would tell her. I don’t know him, she reminded herself. There could be someone else in his life. My feelings might not be his. But still, she’d say what she thought and what she thought was, “This is a lie what’s happening now. Just tell me the truth.”

  And he did.

  He moved forward into the room and knelt on one knee. He reached for her hand and played with her fingers. He told her a story of desperation in Tanzania, of recognition in Singapore, of the vision quest in Sumatra, and all along how Lynx had affirmed his experiences. She’d seen the same things. Had gone through it, too. Lynx had always fought by his side, and this lifetime was no different. There had always been the two women. His dearly held friend, Lynx, and the love of his life Christen.

  He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them softly.

  “I’ve loved you through the millennia just like I love you now. And every time we’ve loved, you’ve died in my arms. I need to go. I need to get distance between us.” He held tight to her hands as he swallowed. It took a long minute until he could say, “I won’t see you harmed.” He pulled his gaze up to hers, and she read the anguish there.

  Christen believed all of it. She’d experienced from the outside what Gator was saying. She could line up what she’d seen and heard and it all made better sense to her, now.

  “Do you think that that was literal, Gator? What you saw in the dream quest? Do you believe in many lives?”

  “My beliefs don’t really matter. If we live again and again or we don’t. I’m not willing to chance your life on my weakness.”

  “You haven’t a weak cell in your body.” she scoffed.

  “Christen, please, don’t fight me on this. I do, for sure, have a weak spot.” He cleared his throat and nodded. “I sure enough do. I’m sorry, I’m hurting you.”

  “Stop,” Christen couldn’t handle the pain in his voice. “You said there was a phrase.”

  His eyes snapped up. Caution. The intensity was shocking.

  “I swear I won’t say it.” The electricity that she’d sparked, calmed. She let this all tumble around. It really all seemed tied to the phrase. “What if I were to promise you to never say, ‘I will love you and the F-bomb.’ Isn’t that the spell? Didn’t you say it was the thing you heard each time? Would you change your mind about saying goodbye if I swore never to use those words?”

  Gator sat on the carpeting, so they were eye to eye. Torment in his gaze. She could tell that he was fighting his emotions and his conviction. He wanted to do the noble thing. The right thing. But he also wanted her in his life. She hoped that was what she was reading.

  “Gator, Jean-Marie, please, listen to me.” She turned her hands, so she could lace their fingers together. “We live dangerous lives you and me. There is no tomorrow in our world. There’s today. Can’t I love you for today? Wouldn’t you please love me today?”

  Gator’s eyes flashed, and she thought she saw a spark of hope in them.

  “Just today?”

  “Yes, today,” Christen said. “We’ll decide tomorrow if we’ll love tomorrow. We can wake up and decide each day. ‘I will love you for today.’ Or not. I may not love you tomorrow. I can’t promise who I’ll be or what I’ll feel tomorrow. But I can tell you for sure how I feel today. In this moment. I love you, today.”

  Their gazes held. His eyes were turbulent.

  “There are no guarantees, Jean-Marie.” She reached out with her free hand and slid the pads of her fingers lightly over the worry lines that ranged across his handsome face. “There are no charms or spells. There’s no safety. Why not love each other and be happy – even if it’s just for this moment?”

  She held her breath. She watched as Gator processed the thought. Broke down his walls. Let go of his fierce protection of her. Unraveled from his coil.

  Finally, he pulled her from her chair, and she tumbled onto his lap and into his arms. Right where she belonged. He kissed her, soft and sweet. Then deeper. “Christen, would you do me the honor of loving me for the whole day?” He held her hand to his lips. As he spoke the words whispered over her skin.

  “I will make that vow to you. I will, for today, have and hold you.”

  “For better, for worse?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “For richer for poorer?”

  “Why yes, Jean-Marie Rochambeau, I would do that.”

  “In sickness or in health?”

  “I will, indeed, love and honor you for the whole of today. And what’s more? Just so you know, I plan on making that vow to you every single day for the rest of my life.”

  Peace settled in the room. Gator cradled her head against his heart. He sighed, releasing the last of his stress and kissed her hair.

  He tipped her face up to kiss her nose.

  He kissed her lips.

  He lifted her and moved to the bed where they crushed her new dress under their weight. Her towel slipped to the floor. And for the first time in this life time, Gator and Christen found the bliss of being one, once again.

  This is not

  THE END

  Please follow Gator Aid Rochambeau and the Iniquus family

  as they continue their fight for the greater good.

  Readers, I hope you enjoyed getting to know Gator and Christen. If you had fun reading Instigator, I’d appreciate it if you’d help others enjoy it too.

  Recommend it: Just a few words to your friends, your book groups, and your social networks would be wonderful.

  Review it: Please tell your fellow readers what you liked abo
ut my book by reviewing JACK Be Quick on Amazon and Goodreads. If you do write a review, please send me a note at FionaQuinnBooks@outlook.com so I can thank you with a personal e-mail. Or stop by my website www.FionaQuinnBooks.com to keep up with my news and chat through my contact form.

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  Acknowledgements

  My great appreciation ~

  To my editor, Kathy Carlon

  To my Beta Force, who are always honest and kind at the same time.

  To my Street Force, who support me and my writing with such enthusiasm. If you’re interested in joining this group, please send me an email.

  To H. Russell for creating the Iniquus Bible – so I can keep all the details correct

  To M. Carlon and L. LaPrade for naming Lula LaRoe

  Thank you to the real-world military who serve to protect us.

  Thank you to the real world Christen Davidson – though not a Night Stalker, she is a hero to many. A true north star. My stalwart friend, who has never failed me when I faced my battles big and small.

  Thank you for the use of their real-world names, Shawn Promin and Joseph Smith, who both served in the navy.

  To all of the wonderful professionals whom I called on to get the details right. Please note: this is a work of fiction, and while I always try my best to get all of the details correct, there are times when it serves the story to go slightly to the left or right of perfection. Please understand that any mistakes or discrepancies are my authorial decision making alone and sit squarely on my shoulders.

  Thank you to my family.

  I send my love to my husband, and my great appreciation. T, you live in my heart, you live in my characters. You are my hero.

  And of course, thank YOU for reading my stories. I’m smiling joyfully as I type this. I so appreciate you!

  Copyright

  Instigator is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ©2017 Fiona Quinn

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons from eBookindlecovers

  Fonts with permission from Microsoft

  Publisher’s Note:

  Neither the publisher nor the author has any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites and their content.

  No part of this book may be scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the express written permission from the publisher or author. Doing any of these actions via the Internet or in any other way without express written permission from the author is illegal and punishable by law. It is considered piracy. Please purchase only authorized editions. In accordance with the US Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at FionaQuinnBooks@Outlook.com.

  Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Canadian born, Fiona Quinn is now rooted in the Old Dominion outside of DC with her husband. There, she pops chocolates, devours books, and taps continuously on her laptop. For more, please visit her bio at http://www.fionaquinnbooks.com