Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ashen
A single word hung in the charged silence of the car, heavier and more solid than a mountain: Yes.
Sara just agreed that she belongs with me. She trusts me.
My breath escaped in a ragged sigh. I closed my eyes for a second, a wave of profound relief washing over me.
It was a feeling so intense it was painful, like the first gasp of air after being held underwater for too long.
I had reached for the impossible. I had asked the woman who knew more about my personal history than anyone ever had, the woman who’d had a front row seat to me at my lowest point, to place her safety, and her heart, in my hands.
And she’d said yes.
I opened my eyes and looked at her. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windshield, catching the gold flecks in her eyes.
She was watching me, her expression composed.
I was in awe of her. Not just the sharp, tenacious FBI agent I knew her to be, but this woman, here, now.
A woman who was fiercely independent while at the same time was yearning for the safety no one could feel on their own.
I reached for her hand, my fingers lacing through hers. Her skin was cool, her grip firm. A protective surge rose in my chest, so powerful my body seemed to expand with it.
“I won’t fail you,” I swore. “I will be strong enough to do this. For you. For us.”
Something flickered in her eyes. Empathy? Understanding?
Or was she wishing I’d sounded more certain?
She gently squeezed my hand. “Will be? I wish you could see the you that I see,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “You are one of the strongest, if not the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
I started to shake my head, the old voices of the Gravestones whispering their poison in my ear, but she didn’t let me.
Forcefully, she said, “Strength isn’t about being hard from the start.
” Her gaze held mine. “People are like carbon. Under normal conditions, they can be soft, easy to break. But when put under immense, crushing pressure for a long, long time . . . if they survive, there’s a shift in them.
Like a diamond, one of the hardest substances in the world, true strength doesn’t come from the absence of pressure, Ashen. It’s the result of it.”
Her words vaulted over years of conditioning, took the child inside me by the hand, and filled it with hope that there had been merit in simply surviving.
Layers of shame peeled away as I basked in the warmth of her faith in me.
“The Gravestones tried to, but they didn’t break you, Ashen,” she said, her thumb stroking the back of my hand.
“They didn’t succeed in making you cruel.
Drugs, abuse, conditioning, isolation . .
. you were subjected to things that would have crushed the spirit of most people.
Yet, here you are. Still a good person. And not only fighting for yourself, but also for me.
That’s the kind of strength no one can instill in you or take from you.
Some people are born heroes and nothing the world can throw at them can change that. ”
She leaned a little closer, the scent of her skin—something clean and warm, like fresh linen and sunlight—filling my senses. I joked, “If you’re talking like that to sway me to promise I’ll do anything for you, I’m already too far gone to refuse you.”
She lifted a hand to caress my cheek. “That’s good because I’m about to throw away what could have been a perfectly good career at the Bureau because it doesn’t compare to how important you have become to me.”
I frowned. “I don’t want you to give up something you love for me.”
She weighed that for a moment. “I’m good at what I do, but I wouldn’t say I love it.
I understand, though, why Max couldn’t stop trying to help people after he left.
Finding answers that bring people peace is addictive.
I’ve not only enjoyed doing that for others, but I’ve become addicted to doing it for myself.
When the dust settles, I’d like to help you locate the twins in those journals.
That would bring me so much more satisfaction than bringing greedy businessmen to justice for sliding themselves some extra funds now and then. ”
“If things go the way I plan, I’ll be able to fund that search. How would you feel about a partnership?”
Her hand stilled. “A business one?”
I turned and kissed her hand before answering. “A full-time one. We give this a try. Me and you. The Ryse-Linde team.”
Her smile quivered then grew. “That’s a catchy and optimistic title for two unemployed adults.”
She wasn’t wrong.
I cupped her face and kissed her with all the emotion I didn’t yet have the words to articulate. I didn’t care about how we’d met. Our current mess? It wouldn’t be forever. But maybe, just maybe, we could be.
She’d brought Sparkles to me when she had no good reason to.
I was following what my heart was telling me—that our connection was bigger than our situation. Hell, she was considering leaving the FBI for me.
Unless that’s a lie.
I raised my head and looked down into her eyes. She’d skillfully misled me the first time. How did I know this was real? “Is there anything you’re not telling me?”
She blinked a few times quickly. “About what?”
“About us. If you don’t feel the way I do, say it now. I’ll still protect you.” I ran my hand through her hair. “But I don’t know if I’d survive wrongly believing in you a second time.”
After inhaling sharply, she turned more in her seat so she was fully facing me.
“I do know how to deceive. I’m good at convincing people to do what I want them to.
My mother was the same way. She told me she once asked Max why he felt he could trust her and he said because he could see through all her outer layers straight to the heart of her.
So, take a look, Ashen. Take a good long look, and tell me, what do you see in me? ”
My hand tightened on her hair before relaxing and moving back to cup her neck. She didn’t look away and I let myself soak her in. All of her, not just the hope I had for who I wanted to be, but also the side of her I’d met when she was Helen.
I remembered what made her laugh, what made her pause, and her expression when I’d told her I hated her.
I thought about what she’d shared about Max, her work, and her hope for helping me find the other twins.
I asked her to tell me about what her life had been like before Max and as she spoke, my doubts fell away.
Like an image clarifying as it comes into focus, I saw her—for the first time. Imperfect, but resilient and yearning.
When she finished, I asked, “You were homeschooled?”
“Yes,” she said. “Kind of. I had expensive tutors, but they changed each time my mother moved on to a new man.”
“And that changed when Max came into your life?”
“Yes. He bought us a house and enrolled me in public school there.”
“And how did that go?”
“Not well. I wasn’t accustomed to following rules, but I loved him so I did my best to.”
“Did you have many friends?”
“No.”
“Do you have any now?”
She shrugged. “Do adults need them?”
I hugged her to my chest then, tucking her beneath my chin. My strong, independent Sara was also lonely and yearning to feel safe again. Her childhood had been full of such uncertainty that she’d also been forged into a diamond.
And a beautiful one at that.
So much about her now made sense. Of course she would risk everything to solve the Max mystery, because someone needed to be blamed for him leaving her. She needed life to make sense because she needed to feel she had some control over the outcome.
Which was why she felt compelled to help reunite twins. She’d uncovered a heinous experiment and couldn’t accept how deeply it had shaken her. She finds her strength in action.
She could have taken everything she knew about me and the others, exposed us, and gotten her five minutes of fame, but that wasn’t what mattered to her.
She could also have leveraged what she’d discovered about the Gravestones into gaining more help when it came to discovering what really happened to Max.
But she didn’t.
She kept her silence.
To keep me safe.
She went and retrieved Sparkles.
Because she knew I’d never forgive myself for not going back for her.
If that’s not love, it’s the closest I’d ever come to it.
Then there was her faith in me. It was genuine and fit what I was learning about her. When she was little, she prayed for someone to come and rescue her and her mother and someone had. Deep down, she believes in heroes and happy endings.
She wants that for herself.
And for me.
“You should write that romance we plotted out,” I said spontaneously.
She cocked her head to the side. “You know that was part of my cover.”
“Write it anyway,” I challenged, not because she had to prove anything to me, but because I could see her now, right to her heart, and writing that book might help her do the same.
“You’ll have time to do it while you’re on leave from the FBI.
I can help you or I can cheer you on. Either way, if you don’t do it, I think it’s something you’ll later wish you had. ”
“Helen Bart—the reboot?” she asked with a smile.
I chuckled. “Only if I can fuck you while you’re wearing those huge pink glasses.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled and cleared her throat. “That could probably be arranged.”
“I’d also love to taste you in whatever uniform you wear for the FBI.”
“Slacks and a jacket?”
With a grin, I added, “And whatever you wear when you work out.”
She tapped a finger on my arm. “You just want to fuck me again.”
I bent and nuzzled her neck. “Ma’am, I fear that you are correct.”
Our next kiss was heated, prolonged enough to fog the windows of the car. We surfaced from it, both breathing raggedly and temporarily speechless.
Eventually, breathlessly, she said, “I can’t take you back to my place. Someone might still be watching me there.”
I sat back a bit, trying to gain focus. “I don’t yet have a place of my own, but I could change that quickly.”
“Once I announce I’m not returning to the office, if there is someone dirty at our office, they may be moved to action. So, we’ll need good security, the kind we can control, wherever we go. It can’t just be a hotel room.”
“I can arrange that.” If there was one thing I’d been offered from the twins repeatedly it was protection.
“Okay,” she said, her voice shifting, the agent re-emerging from beneath the soft, vulnerable woman. Her eyes were sharp again, analytical. “If we’re going to do this, we do it right. Let’s put everything on the table.”
I nodded, my mind clicking into a new gear.
This was the part I could do. The part my life of observation had prepared me for.
“The Gravestones have money and unsavory connections,” I began.
“But they’ve never been so close to being exposed.
Also, they don’t understand the connection I have with the twins.
They think I’m alone and easy to manipulate. ”
“And you’re neither,” she stated, a hint of pride in her voice.
“Exactly.” I thought of the network of people now standing behind me.
The twins. Walt Bellerwood. They wanted what I wanted: the truth but in a way that didn’t destroy our lives.
“Thane told me to contact him when I’m ready to talk about what I need next.
I’m ready to make that call. We can get a secure location, funding, whatever we need to operate. ”
Sara’s eyebrows rose. “That’s generous of them.”
“Yes and no,” I said calmly. “I do believe them when they say they care about me, but I’m not na?ve enough to believe it’s all altruistic.
I’m a wild card with the potential of disrupting all their lives if I decide to share this story with the world.
How better to keep me grateful if trouble starts brewing than to keep me close? ”
She nodded in approval. “I’m glad you’re giving them a chance while remaining realistic. Your desire for love is a weakness they can use against you.”
“Like you did,” I said quietly.
She looked down. “Yes, which is why it has to stay something you’re aware of. If you acknowledge it, it’s no longer a weakness.”
I touched her arm gently. “What side of you do you acknowledge to keep from being your weakness?”
Her gaze raised to meet mine. “I’m a good reader of people, con artist level skilled at it, and when I’m desperate it’s a tempting weapon to wield. I’ve never not regretted using it, though. I’d rather rely on my intelligence and the facts than manipulation.”
“A skill like that must help you solve cases.”
“Oh, it sure does, but every time I employ it, a piece of my soul dies.”
She wasn’t being overdramatic and her tone was matter of fact.
“Then, maybe, leaving the FBI will be a good choice for you.”
She nodded. “When I look back, working there was more about Max than solving crimes. My slot will hopefully be filled by someone who’s there for the right reason.
” She chewed her lip before adding. “Right now, I’m not sure if I should resign my position or take an extended leave of absence.
Either way, I’ll lose my access to resources.
If I resign it would free me to do more, but . . .”
“Which is safer for you?”
“I don’t know.” After a moment she added, “I’ll need to go to my apartment to get a few things. There’s someone at my office I need to speak to. I value her advice.”
The thought of separating, even for a few hours, felt like a physical risk I wasn’t willing to take. Still, trust went both ways.
“What do you need me to do?” I asked.
“Follow me to my apartment, but park a block away. Use that time to set up a place for us to go tonight. I’ll see if I can get in touch with my friend at the office.”
A small smile pulled at my mouth. “I thought you didn’t have friends.”
She blinked in surprise. “I was wrong, I guess. I have one.” She looked at me. “Two, now. Although I’m not sure if one of you will get me killed.”
It was a joke that landed with a thud.
“You are not allowed to die on my watch,” I murmured against her forehead. “I’m keeping you.”
“Like a pet?” she asked with a laugh.
“Like a friend, a lover, and hopefully, one day, something more.”
Her eyes rounded. “Don’t joke like that.”
I kissed her deeply before saying, “I’m not joking. I’m Team Ryse-Linde.”