CHAPTER 50 #2
I try another round but I’m starting to feel lightheaded. The pain is…and…why isn’t he touching me?
“Damn it!” I finally yell. The target is ripped to shreds and my arms are trembling. “I can’t hold it up anymore.”
“Good. That was fine.”
“Fine? I’m dead.”
“If you’re shot, get to a point where you can lean on a wall or sit, get some support under your body if possible.”
I nod. He’s still not touching me. This is not how this always goes and it’s messing with my brain.
Is that his point? Is he messing with me?
It’s fucking working. Instead of focusing on the target or my shoulder or the incoming flight to take me to who knows where in mere minutes, I’m thinking about my husband not touching me.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Stay with me,” he says, still frozen in his spot.
“No,” I exhale the word.
“Then let me go with you,” he counters, his eyes pleading with mine. His face…it looks like he could be in as much pain as me.
“No. Sheila, Collin, everyone. You can’t just leave your family.”
“Mac can—”
“No he can’t. He needs you. They need you there.”
He finally drops his arms and his hands twitch at his sides when he asks, “And you? You don’t need anyone? You’re ready to be alone in the shadows?”
“I won’t be alone. I’ll have Allie, she said there are others. I’ll be watching and—” I swallow down the crack in my voice, “I’ll have your six.”
“I—”
“Incoming,” Mark’s voice cuts Van off.
The formidable man in front of me deflates, shoulders sagging. Just for a second. He exhales and pauses. It’s like he’s accepting defeat. It looks all kinds of wrong. And then it’s over. He stands back up and says, “Time for you to go, then.”
He lifts me again and walks me back through the basement. He doesn’t glance at me once.
“Van, I...” I start, but I don’t finish. Because what can I say? I respect you? I appreciate you? I know you said you love me, uh, thanks? It all sounds stupid. He knows I’ll always care for him as a trainer, a friend. A really sexy, incomparable friend.
In a quick blur of activity, I’m placed on my feet next to my bed and given four pills and some water.
My one small bag is already packed thanks to Ellie and Van disappears to hand pick some knives for me out of Mark’s armory.
I grab a jacket Ellie is loaning me off the chair and look around the room.
Not sure why. I have nothing in here. A ghost already, I guess.
A shiver runs through me at the thought.
But all thoughts are cut off by the sounds of a chopper followed by an intercom alert.
I put the bag over my good shoulder and get moving.
I stop by the kitchen to add some snacks and Marlon’s supplies to my bag.
Ellie added some amazing baked goods too and what appears to be very fancy instant coffee.
I don’t let myself think about the next time I’ll be in this kitchen or if I ever will be again.
Just keep moving.
It feels like it takes me a million steps to get up to the roof.
Already missing Van in more ways than one.
There Ellie and Mark are already talking to Allie.
She’s in a flight suit jumper thing that looks fashionable and perfectly tailored to her body and also totally utilitarian at the same time. No sign of my husband yet.
“Ah, Luna, you’re looking better already,” Allie says when she sees me.
I offer a small smile. Before I can say more, Ellie sniffs, grabbing all of my attention.
Mark kisses the side of her forehead. I glare at him, then her, then him in a way that says you’re not good enough for her, you better take care of the best woman in the entire world.
He rolls his eyes back with a slight nod as if to say, duh.
“It’s not goodbye forever,” Ellie cries, trying to sound calm and failing.
“Right,” I say back. I don’t sound very convincing. What do I know? I don’t even know where I’m going or for how long.
Marlon barks so I turn.
I’m struck by the sight all over again. A broken, angry, sad Quinn, coming out of the woods bleeding and holding my dog in his arms. Only this time he’s Van, he’s not bleeding and we’re on a sun-kissed rooftop in the early evening.
“We’ll give you two a minute,” Ellie says. She hugs me hard, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say back to her. Mark dips his chin at me and then wraps his arm around her waist to comfort her as they walk away. It’s the least repulsive he’s ever been.
Allie says, “Two minutes then it’s wheels up, please.
” She kisses Van on the cheek and leaves us alone a few feet from the helicopter.
It’s off, but still huge and black and ominous.
It’s got little reflective patches all over it so it’s glistening in the light.
It’s sure as hell not a normal Black Hawk.
I look from the chopper to the man I’m leaving behind. He hands Marlon to me, then scratches his head. He leans in and says “Tabhair aire do do mham domsa, a dhuine bheag.” I frown. “Told him to take care of you.”
I laugh, “What’s he going to protect, my pinky toe?”
He almost grins, “If it needs protecting.”
I roll my eyes. Then Van just watches me, waiting. I look at the purple sky around us, the tree tops, the gravelly rooftop under my feet. Finally, I look up at him. My eyes burn.
“Listen, I—”
He kisses me. Hard. Hands cradling my head, tongue invading all my thoughts and feelings. He releases the most heartbreaking guttural moan into my mouth, into my soul. Then pulls away. He rests his forehead on mine, eyes shut.
The chopper starts up.
We’re frozen in the wind and the sound. Heads together.
“You’ll have my six,” he finally shouts over the noise.
“I will,” I shout back. We open our eyes and as he starts to release my head, I panic. Where the hell am I going? What will I do? What if I suck at it? What if I have to—
“I love you. Give ‘em hell, Mancini!” He says before he gives me one last hard goodbye kiss. Then he turns and stalks away. I watch his back for a beat, then force myself to turn away.
I don’t want to turn away from that man. Truly, I don’t.
But I do want to get on the chopper. I want to see what’s next. Figure out what this new world is and who I am in it. So, Marlon in my arm, I go toward Allie’s smiling face in the open door way.
I climb in and force myself not to think about the house we’re leaving—my two favorite people inside—as the chopper propels upward. I’m given a headset but Allie says nothing. I hear the air traffic control chatter. Allie speaks to the captain in Russian once or twice. Then the ride is over.
We’re at an airfield not far away.
We climb out of the chopper, my hip exploding with pain at the motion. I ignore it.
In front of me is a huge ass plane, the kind of jumbo jet with the bubble on the top used for international flights. But it’s all black. As we walk closer, I see it’s covered in the reflective stuff just like the chopper.
Allie still says nothing, just watching me take it all in as we reach the steps.
“So, we’re taking this thing to command?” I ask her, bracing myself for some ungodly eighteen hour flight.
“No, Luna,” she smiles wide, “This is command.”