Chapter 6 #2
I turned away and braced. Her gasp was instantaneous. I wanted to get the discussion of my scars out of the way.
“Drake,” she whispered.
I didn’t say anything, but poured her a mug of coffee, stirred in enough milk the way she liked it, and then turned back to face her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her eyes remained locked with mine.
“Don’t,” I muttered.
“What happened?” she asked. She tore off a sheet of paper towel and dabbed her eyes.
Waffles popped out of the toaster and stopped me from responding.
I served her first, but she pushed the plate away.
Maybe I was too selfish in thinking she could eat while hearing about the attack.
This wasn’t me and the guys shooting the shit over a campfire and trading war stories.
Maybe I should have listened to the agency shrink about decompressing.
I’d spent years living in another man’s skin. Years not being Izabel’s husband.
“Please tell me,” she said softly.
“We were trapped in a cave by suicide bombers.”
“Marcus said you saved him.”
I clenched my jaw at her familiar use of the commander’s first name.
Whether it was resentment or jealousy, I wasn’t sure.
“It was instinctive.” I shrugged. “The blast fractured my back, broke some ribs, and my right leg in three places.” A ragged sob escaped her lips, but I continued, my solid gaze holding her tear-filled one.
“I couldn’t get back to you, Izabel, even if I wanted to. And I was helpless to protect you.”
Her face crumpled, and she got off her seat, rounding the island to hug me. Izabel cried. I held tight, uncertain if she was crying out of pity or if her tears were for the losses in our marriage.
Long minutes passed before her sobs finally subsided.
Her red-rimmed eyes looked up. “I should have been there for you,” she said, words garbled.
“I was your wife and I couldn’t help you when you needed me.
” She reached across the counter to grab the paper towel she used earlier to wipe her tears.
Then she wiped my chest that she’d soaked. “Sorry.”
“S’okay.” I tenderly wiped the sorrow still streaming from her eyes with the pad of my thumb.
She sniffled a bit more and backed away, returning to her seat. “I’m ready for the rest of your story. What you can tell me, of course.”
I nodded. “A task force was formed that isn’t under any known government entity. I can’t tell you to whom we report. However, I can tell you that it was formed out of the failure of our guys in the DoD and the CIA to perform their jobs because of our leaders in Washington.”
“Isn’t that treason?”
“No. It’s not. We just operate differently,” I said. At her continued worried frown, I added, “Trust me on this, please.”
She tipped her chin. “Go on.”
I explained the threat to Fire Team families. That the death of Harrelson’s wife and two boys was not an accident. They were killed because our commander survived and the terrorists wanted him to suffer.
“My handler had agents on you,” I said. “But their protection was contingent on me joining the task force. I had to decide quickly.”
“How could they ask you to abandon your marriage just like that? And how could you agree so quickly?” Izabel snapped.
“The intel was there, baby. If I refused their offer, I’m back under DoD command.
You would go unprotected. I was in no shape to organize your protection.
My team and everyone I trusted was either dead, out of the country, or undercover.
” Even Hank was in the Middle East at that time.
“I don’t think the Navy ever admitted that the Commander’s family was murdered. ”
“They said it was an accident.”
“I’d rather have you hate me than see you dead.”
Izabel gave a bitter smile. “And yet, that was the nightmare you gave me.”
“Baby…”
She held up a hand, a rare hardness flashed in her eyes. I clamped my mouth shut.
“Did you get the terrorist?”
“Yes.”
“But there’s unfinished business.”
“Yes.”
“Am I still in danger?”
“Still assessing, but the immediate threat has been neutralized.”
Izabel sipped coffee. She contemplated the brew for a beat before lifting her gaze to me.
“I’m trying to be logical about this. Deep down I know you did what you thought was best for us.
It was an untenable situation and quick decisions needed to be made.
You say you didn’t want to see me dead, but you killed me anyway.
Dying isn’t merely physical.” She paused, rolled her lips, and her nostrils flared.
“It’s mental and emotional. You subjected me to that. ”
I gave a helpless gesture. “I know and I’m sorry.”
A sad smile crossed her face and the first signs of panic coiled in my gut.
“Where do we go from here?”
Confused by her question, I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean? I want us back together. Isn’t that obvious?”
“Just like that?” The sad smile turned bitter. It was a smile I’d never witnessed on my wife’s face, and I wondered now if we would ever recapture what we had.
“If there’s something I’m not getting, can you spell it out?
” I grated. “As soon as we nab this guy, I’ll get my identity back.
I know it’s difficult. I’ve changed. You’ve changed, but I’m willing to put in the work to make you trust me again.
I know you love me, Izabel, and I’m in love with you. That hasn’t changed.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough?—”
“Bullshit!” I snapped. Anxiety expanded into a lump that threatened to choke me. “Why the fuck are you saying this?”
“I don’t want the same things anymore,” she said, voice rising.
“Six years we were together, five of them as your wife. I understood and never resented each and every time you couldn’t come home for Christmas or be there for our anniversary.
I was happy because you came home . And when you were home, you were my loving husband.
Sometimes I was scared out of my mind, especially when I heard the other wives talk about an op gone bad and SEALs got killed, but I held strong because when I said our vows, I committed to a life as a SEAL wife, too. ”
She paused and took a deep breath. “But after what happened to Fire Team and after burying a husband, I don’t think I have it in me to be married to a man like you?—”
“Hold on. Hold on,” I cut in, trying to suppress the anger inside me. “A man like me? What the fuck, Iza?”
“A man who needs to be a hero.”
“What the fuck?” I repeated. “And what man are you lookin’ for now, huh, baby?
Someone like your damn architect?” And this was exactly why I didn’t tell her the other reason, not until I was sure she understood—if I’d abandoned the mission to hunt down Hamza, it would’ve eaten at me for the rest of my life and cast a shadow on our marriage. Even destroyed it.
“Maybe?” Her chin lifted mutinously.
“You’re my goddamn wife!” I growled and prowled around the counter, advancing on Izabel. Her eyes widened as I plucked her from the chair. “And I’ll be damned before I let another man take what’s mine.”
I was going to kiss her, but the fear in her eyes shocked and stopped me.
I let her go and pivoted away from her, my chest seizing in remorse. I wasn’t clueless to how rough and scary I looked. I didn’t need to add aggressive jealousy to it too. I exited the kitchen and dragged a hand down my face. Chill the fuck out, asshole .
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said quietly.
“I’m not scared,” she whispered. “Not really. It’s just that…”
I turned to look at her.
“I’m not used to this new you,” she said.
“Am I so different?” My hand automatically went to my beard. “I do need a beard trim.”
“And a haircut,” she added, biting her bottom lip. “But there’s something else. You seem harder. More rough.”
The right word is savage , I thought grimly. Working under Deadly Spear, I’d lived in the skin of a hunter for three long years without a chance for respite. It was go. Go. Go .
I took a couple of seconds to rein in the anger that surged when she said she didn’t want a “man like me” anymore.
I was beginning to the see the arena I had to compete in.
This wasn’t going to be a simple courtship—I had to go full-court press.
No way was Kyle the architect stealing my wife.
It’d be a problem when she was at work. I was still operating under an assumed identity and Harrelson worked at her office.
So consumed was I in my spiraling thoughts, it took a moment to realize Izabel was speaking to me.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, frowning.
“Sorry, I was thinking about something. What was that?”
“I don’t think these waffles are enough breakfast for you.”
I could use a big meal right now like a bacon cheeseburger.
“The fridge is empty,” she added apologetically. “I usually get my groceries on the weekends. Should we go out?”
“Any place around here that has a good breakfast?” I asked.
Izabel eyed me dubiously. “Can you be seen in public?”
“I’ve gotten better at sneaking around.”
“Who are you? James Bond?” Izabel smiled. It was the first real smile I’d seen on her face and it was dazzling.
“Something like that.” I chuckled. “I’m gonna grab a shirt. Think I want a good cheeseburger.”
“I know just the place.”