Chapter Ten
Two hours ago, Jason had lost years off his life when Roxana’s cell phone had called his.
During the span of a single ring, he prayed to hear her voice and panicked that she would be on the line, still with Spiker and Vanka.
The sound of Spiker’s pissed-off frustration was music to Jason’s ears. Roxana had escaped from GSI.
Now that Jason was within the Jefferson County line, his skin crawled with anticipation.
He couldn’t get to Roxana fast enough. The final miles to his apartment threatened his sanity.
Once he parked his rental car outside his place, the final seconds from the parking lot inside seemed twice as long as the hours-long drive.
Finally, he wrapped his hands around the tracking device that would pinpoint Roxana’s location. He grabbed the keys to his truck and didn’t wait for the tracking device to finish booting. He hustled to his truck and reversed out of the parking space, waiting for the GPS to find his woman.
The coordinates appeared on screen. Jason hit the gas. In less than ten minutes, he’d be at Roxana’s mercy. He deserved whatever she said, and it would kill him if he didn’t get his arms around her soon. He couldn’t imagine his life without her.
The tracker’s homing beacon signaled as Jason closed in on Roxana’s location. By the time he pulled into Cherokee Park, his stomach had knotted. He could make sure she was safe, but he wasn’t sure how to fix the problem he shouldn’t have created.
Roxana startled awake. The bright summer sky was now the deep purple that came minutes before the stars twinkled. She barely recalled shutting her eyes but knew it hadn’t been near twilight yet. Summer days were long. She didn’t wear a watch and didn’t know how long she’d been asleep.
Insects chirped and sang, and a bat flapped from side to side in the darkening sky.
She itched a mosquito bite and numbly stared at the empty bottle of water and Gatorade chew wrappers.
She hadn’t been very hungry earlier as much as she’d felt dehydrated, but now her brain, accustomed to her cushy life and plentiful snacks, worried about starvation.
The insects’ song wavered. A shiver crawled down her spine. Roxana’s senses jumped to high alert. She didn’t hear a soul, but in the dimming purple light, she couldn’t see far. Still, she knew something had stirred.
“Roxana.”
Jason’s voice ran over her as if he’d wrapped her in his arms, safe sanctity from her nightmare. She jumped to her feet. Every sore muscle protested after the day spent crawling in the dark. Where was he? Panic choked in her throat. Had she dreamed his voice?
“Roxana,” Jason called again as if she were an animal he might spook. He stepped from the shadows with his palms up.
She didn’t have the energy to move but launched herself into his arms. In that weightless moment, she let go of the day, her fears about him, about them, and Roxana simply existed. Everything she needed and everything she could give were one in the same when it came to this man. But who was he?
Her slack muscles fought their exhaustion and stiffened.
Roxana pushed for freedom, and Jason easily let her go.
She studied his face, his eyes that could reach to her soul, and couldn’t fathom how he seemed the same man who had dropped to one knee.
He looked the same and felt the same. Jason smelled the same.
Everything about Jason was the exact same as the last time she saw him, except she didn’t know this man standing in front of her.
He came closer, and she backed until the bushes pressed into her legs. “How did you find me?” The ragged edge in her tone surprised both of them. Jason’s retreating step empowered her fury. “Who are you?”
“There’s a tracker in the bag…”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“More importantly,” he continued, “I’m the same person you’ve always known.”
“Liar.”
He stepped closer. “I’ll explain everything.”
“Yes, you will.”
He glanced at her hands as if to make sure she still wore her engagement ring. “We’ll go someplace safe. You can clean up, eat—”
Reflexively, her right hand covered her left, perplexed that removing her ring had worried him and hadn’t occurred to her. “A shower and burger can fix this.”
He eyeballed their surroundings. “You want to stay here? Fine.”
“I want to—” Roxana threaded her hands into her dirty, tangled hair. “I want to scream at the top of my lungs!”
“Then scream, babe. If that’s what you need—”
Roxana lunged and pounded her fists against his chest as if a temper tantrum could erase the pain. Jason didn’t move until her exhausted arms hung by her side. Hot tears slid over her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to do was cry, but hell if she could stop her falling emotions.
The protective weight of his arm wrapped her to his heart as if he worried he’d never hold her again. Jason rested his lips against her dirty hair and inhaled so deeply his chest expanded. “I’m sorry.”
Roxana pinched her eyes shut and didn’t know if his words meant anything. “I don’t even know who you are. What those people said about you—I don’t understand.”
Jason pulled back and cupped her face. “I’m the man you’ve always known.”
“No.” She didn’t want to hear that. Roxana needed the harsh, life-altering truth. “I fell in love with an accountant.”
The corners of his lips quirked.
She smacked his chest. “Do not laugh or smile. This isn’t funny.”
“Babe—”
“An accountant,” she repeated as if he’d missed it the first time. “No one on earth dreams of falling in love with an accountant except for me. That was supposed to be you—” She poked him in the chest. “And you’re a… a whatever you are.”
“An operative.”
Roxana pushed out of his hold. “No!”
His eyebrow crooked.
“You don’t get to drop a meaningless word like operative after someone came into my house and pointed a gun at me.”
Tension ticked in his jaw. His dark blue eyes were shadowed by the falling night, but Roxana could see their explosiveness. Mentioning the gun cranked Jason to a blistering level. “I use a boring, nondescript word to describe an ugly but required position.”
Roxana threw her aching arms into the air and shook her hands toward the heavens. “I mean, for God’s sake, are you a fucking hit man?”
“No.”
Her hands dropped at the composed way he handled her insane question. “Have you ever killed someone?”
“Yes.” The lack of emotion in his voice made her knees buckle, and he grabbed her before she crumbled. “But that’s not what I do.”
If she’d had the fortitude to walk away, Roxana would’ve left Jason standing in the bushes.
“Then what do you do?” Her mind spun. Had she been an accessory to murder and hadn’t realized it?
God, she wouldn’t do well in prison. Nothing she’d discussed with her therapist covered this level of spiraling anxiety. “Just say it. I work as…”
“A watcher.”