Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Why the rose?” Owen pulled his tee over his head.
She zipped up her shorts and pressed a hand to her messy locks. “It’s my middle name.”
“There’s more to it than that, right?” His hazel eyes narrowed.
She didn’t want to talk about Brad right now. They both knew what happened any time they discussed their past. The mother of all Iron Curtains fell between them. But she didn’t want to lie, either. She’d already made the mistake of lying before.
“Sam?” He stepped closer and started to reach for her arm, but then he pulled his hand back as if he’d made a mistake.
Their hour ended. Actually, it’d ended thirty minutes ago, but they’d extended it. They couldn’t keep extending their hour, though. Reality had caught up with them when his coworker Jessica had called, requesting they join Asher in another suite where the security footage had been set up.
“Brad liked to call me his rose.” There. She’d said it.
“And the rosary beads on your back?”
“I wasn’t exactly a choir girl growing up, no matter how much my parents wanted me to be. But Brad, well, he was a devout Catholic.”
“His grandmother raised him, right?”
“Yeah.” She grabbed her strapless bra and hooked it on. “When she passed away, he decided to carry her rosary beads with him when deployed. Kind of his way of having her watch over him.”
He surprised her by brushing his fingers over the tattoo.
“They weren’t recovered on his body or at the base.”
“Kind of your way of having him always watch your back, huh?”
He was perceptive, she’d give him that. But how long until he turned cold?
“When he died, I broke down. I barely survived it. It was my best friend, Emily’s, idea to get the ink.
The tattoo could be a reminder of the strength Brad had, and I guess I’d hoped I could absorb some of his faith, too.
” Emotion tightened in her throat, and tears threatened.
She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold them back as her lids dropped closed.
“None of us can be saints, but we can do our best to be good people.” He paused for a brief moment. “I only met Brad a few times, but he was definitely one of the good guys.”
Her shoulders shuddered at the loss of his proximity. He must have stepped back—far enough back to reestablish boundaries or build a new wall between them.
Guilt at what they had done cut through her, and she assumed it was slicing through him just the same.
“I know what happened to them on their op.”
She tensed at his words, unable to move or think.
“But I’m not allowed to tell you.”
Her stomach fell, and she spun to face him. “What?”
He cupped his mouth and looked down at the floor. “I’m going to tell you, though.”
She staggered back until she found the bed and sat, her legs unable to hold her.
His hand converted to a fist, and he tapped it at his lips a few times.
“I’m going to break every rule in the damn book and tell you because Brad would want you to know the truth, and because I’m so goddamn pissed at the truth, that I don’t care what’s right or wrong anymore.
” He visibly tensed and blew out a sharp breath.
“He and Jason died in Kiev trying to prevent a war with Russia.”
“So, it’s true? The picture?”
He nodded. “The U.S. placed their bodies in Iraq so the Russians wouldn’t find out the truth.”
“And what’s the truth?”
“The scientist was kidnapped by a Ukrainian militia group. She was probably used to bait the U.S. there, though—to force our hands to supply them with weapons and cash, knowing we’d try and cover it up to stop Russian retaliation for the kidnapping—as well as keep the other three men from the op alive. ”
“Oh, God.” She finally stood and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.
“Brad, Jason, and even that woman got caught in the crossfires of it all, and now whoever is threatening you is trying to use that mission against us.” He grabbed hold of her arms, pulled them down, and looked into her eyes.
“But the motherfucker who orchestrated the entire thing may still be alive, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him stay that way. ”
“Owen.” She knew what he was trying to say, what he was suggesting—and as much as she wanted him to get justice for Brad and Jason, she couldn’t let him commit murder. She couldn’t let him get locked away for the rest of his life.
Before she could find the right words, a hard knock at the door had her hands landing on her hips, her head bowing.
“Yo, you guys okay?”
She recognized the voice: Asher.
“We need to talk about this,” she whispered.
“No. I told you because I need you to know that I’ll keep the promise I made ten years ago.”
The promise?
Owen’s words from the funeral blasted to the forefront of her mind like a BB from a slingshot.
I’ll never stop until I find the SOB who did this to them. I won’t rest until their killer is dead, Owen had said, his voice grave, his eyes bloodshot.
She scrambled to grab her shirt off the floor as he walked to the door to let Asher in. “Wait. Please, we need to finish this conversation.”
He peered at her from over his shoulder. “There’s nothing left to say.”
“You told me this so I’d stop you.” She pulled her shirt on as she approached him. “You can’t do this. You don’t owe anyone anything. Jason wouldn’t want you in jail because of him,” she whispered so Asher wouldn’t hear her through the door.
He looked away from her and opened the door, effectively ending the conversation.
For now, at least . . .