Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Gideon
My tires squealed as I peeled out of the driveway of the bungalow and sped down the tranquil street. With no destination in mind, I drove aimlessly at first, my mind a jumbled mess of frustration and confusion. How could Imogene say that? How could she want that?
After everything I’d done, everything I’d become as Gideon Saint, how could she possibly miss him?
I thought she’d be glad to have Samuel back, the man who once dreamed of simple, beautiful things, like building a life with her. Having a family together. Being one of those couples who was still madly in love, even when we were old and gray. I was trying to give her that, trying to be that man again.
I thought it was what she wanted. What she deserved.
Wasn’t it?
After driving around for a while, I pulled into the parking lot of a dive bar on the edge of town. It wasn’t normally the type of place I’d frequent, but tonight it was what I needed. A place where I could disappear for a while. Where nobody gave a shit about who I was or what I’d done.
I made my way into the dimly lit room, passing a few other patrons scattered at tables or hunched over the counter. Sliding onto a worn barstool, I ordered a whiskey. The bartender didn’t ask questions, just poured and left me to my thoughts. I downed half the glass on the first swallow, but the burn did nothing to dull the ache in my chest.
What did Imogene want from me? Did she want me to lose myself in that darkness again? To become the man who’d stop at nothing to settle a score? I couldn’t do that, not for her. Not for anyone. That man nearly killed her.
A faint buzzing in my pocket pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I fished out my phone, expecting to see Imogene’s name.
Instead, Henry’s name flashed on the screen.
“What did you find?” I answered gruffly, trying to hide my disappointment.
“Nice to hear your voice too, buddy,” Henry deadpanned, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “What did you find on Myers?”
After the agent’s surprise visit yesterday, I’d been on edge. Something about him didn’t sit right with me, especially once I learned he’d paid Imogene a visit in the hospital. I couldn’t help but find it incredibly suspicious that he just so happened to stop by during one of the few times I wasn’t around. It was almost like he’d purposefully waited to get her alone.
I wanted to know why.
“Your boy’s squeaky clean,” Henry answered. “Exemplary FBI record, not a single black mark. Same for his teaching.”
“Teaching?”
“He teaches criminology and profiling classes at various colleges in the area. The staff and students all love him. In fact, his classes usually have a long waitlist.”
“What about his personal life?” I pressed, taking another long sip of my drink, growing more irritated with every passing second.
“Same story there. He’s spotless. Pays off his credit card in full every month. Goes to church every Sunday, although we both know that doesn’t necessarily mean shit.”
“You’re right about that,” I huffed, recalling the horror we endured at that foster home from two people who purported to be righteous and Godly.
They were anything but.
“He coaches his niece’s swim team,” he continued. “Volunteers at a local soup kitchen. He even donates to charities for families of fallen officers. Real choir boy stuff.”
I pushed out a long breath, my shoulders falling. “So he’s legit.”
I’d really hoped he might find something to corroborate the feeling in my gut.
“That’s one way to look at it,” Henry offered. “But no one’s this clean without a reason. Either he’s hoping to be the next Captain America, or he’s hiding skeletons so deep even the Bureau doesn’t know about them.”
“Think you can find out which one it is?”
Henry laughed. “I can find out anything, but it’ll take some time. I’ll let you know what I dig up.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“Any time.” There was a pause, then Henry cleared his throat, his tone losing its typical banter. “How’s Imogene doing, all things considered?”
“Fine,” I bit out as I swallowed down another gulp of whiskey, finishing off the glass. The bartender lifted the bottle, and I nodded. He moved toward me, refilling my glass with more amber liquid.
“That tells me she’s not fine. Or, more accurately, you’re not. What’s going on?”
I sighed, running a hand over my face. “We got into it tonight.”
“What happened?”
“She suggested we get away for a while. Maybe go to Hilton Head of all places. Said we needed time to reconnect. I told her it wasn’t safe, and things just escalated from there.” I hesitated for a beat before confessing, “She said she misses him.”
“Who? Liam?”
“Of course not,” I retorted quickly, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Then I whispered, “Gideon Saint.”
“Oh.”
“How could she say that? How could she even feel that way after everything?” I lowered my voice. “She almost died because of him… Me. Because of the things I’ve done. I thought…” I trailed off, struggling to get my thoughts in order. “I thought she’d be happy with my decision to walk away from that life. From that person. Thought she’d be happy to have Samuel back.”
“But does she?”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”
“Does she really have Samuel back?”
“Of course she does. I walked away from my plan. Even after the break-in, I haven’t asked you to put your skills to use and track down Liam so I could end him, even if I’ve fantasized about it.”
“That may be true, but that doesn’t mean you’re the same person you were all those years ago.”
“But—”
“She’s not the same person, either,” he continued before I could finish my thought. “You’ve both changed. You’ve both been through some pretty horrible shit, especially you. You can’t just expect to bury that part of yourself and pretend it never existed. You can’t expect her to, either.”
I parted my lips to argue once more, and again he interjected before I could.
“I get it, man. You’re trying to do the right thing. But you can’t just act like the past never happened. It’s part of you, whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t want to be that man anymore,” I said, my voice tight. “Imogene deserves better than that.”
“But it sounds like Imogene doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want just Samuel or just Gideon. She wants all of you. She loves all of you. The good, the bad, the messy. That’s what love is. Remember how you felt when you learned Turner hit her? When you saw her being wheeled into the hospital on that stretcher? When you didn’t know if she’d wake up?”
I swallowed hard, not wanting to go back to that night. I’d done everything in my power to forget about it. To move on from my biggest regret.
“Remember that feeling. Because if you keep trying to cut off parts of yourself to fit into some mold of what you think she deserves, you will lose her. After everything you’ve been through, is that really what you want?”