CHAPTER 21
THEY MADE LOVE twice more—again on the bed and then in the shower. Natalie wanted the night to last forever, but soon it was four in the morning and then six, time unstoppable, minutes slipping away, the sun already up.
She snuggled against his chest, running her fingers through his chest hair, savoring the scent and feel of him, knowing that the magic spell that had bound them together all night would soon be broken and that he would rise, dress, kiss her—and then walk out of her life.
How strange it was that a week ago she hadn’t even known this man.
She’d been a ghost then, drifting, hollow, numb.
Then Zach had spoken to her out of the darkness, saving her, making her feel again, bringing her back to life.
And now he was going to leave her world as abruptly as he’d entered it. What she didn’t understand was why.
It had made sense when he’d been Zach Black the criminal.
He’d told her that his life wasn’t the kind a man shared with a woman.
She’d taken that to mean that he was mixed up in bad things, dangerous things that could get him and those close to him hurt.
And perhaps that is what he’d meant. Except that he was on the right side of the law.
He stroked her shoulder lazily with his thumb. “What are you thinking? There’s a frown on your pretty face.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him, afraid her words would spoil whatever was left of their time together. “I was thinking how much I’m going to miss you.”
He kissed her hair and for a while said nothing.
Then at last he spoke. “Five days ago, I was ready to die. I was down to my last twenty-four hours, and I was ready to die. There was so much at stake—the whole operation. If the Zetas had known who and what I was . . . I was so afraid my mind would break before my body gave out. And then you were there, and everything changed. These past few days with you have been . . . There’s no woman on earth like you, Natalie. ”
His words gave her hope.
She decided to risk it. “Back when I thought you were a criminal, I understood why we couldn’t be together. But now that I know the truth . . . If we’re both going to miss each other, why can’t we keep seeing each other?”
He turned onto his side to face her, his gaze level with hers, one hand cupping her cheek.
“It’s not because I don’t care about you, Natalie.
It just wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be fair to you.
You deserve to have a man who can truly be a part of your life, someone who comes home for dinner every night, who has time to play with the kids, who can grow old with you. I’m not that man.”
She could see in his eyes that he believed what he said. “Being a deputy U.S. marshal doesn’t mean you don’t get to have a life.”
That did it.
He turned away from her, sat up, put his feet on the carpeted floor. “This is my life, Natalie. I spend most of my days south of the line. I’m rarely home. When I am, it’s just to sleep, shower, refuel, and reload.”
She slid her hand up his back and sat up, draping her arm over his shoulder to caress his chest, her chin perched on his shoulder. “Lots of women have husbands who work long hours. Women whose men are in the military go months—”
“It’s not just that I’m gone all the time.
” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself.
“Another DUSM, a guy who’d worked the line for a dozen years, disappeared a couple years ago.
Somehow his cover was blown. Do you know what the cartels did to him?
They butchered him and left his face—just his face—in a goddamned pizza box on his family’s front porch. His six-year-old son found it.”
“Oh, God!” Natalie felt her empty stomach drop.
Zach turned to face her, his gaze hard, his jaw tight. “I know what happens to women and kids when their husbands and fathers are killed in action or go MIA. I won’t do that to any woman, most especially not one who matters to me.”
“Well, if your job is so damned dangerous, why don’t you do something else?”
He laughed, shook his head. “Leave it to you to ask the tough questions.”
Then he stood, still naked, and began searching for his clothes. “I tried being a regular civilian. I tried for nine long months. It didn’t work.”
“Tried being a civilian? What does that mean?”
Zach looked over at Natalie, wondering how they’d gotten onto this topic in the first place. He so did not want to go here.
“Some men come home from combat.” He slid into his boxer briefs, adjusted himself, then reached for his pants.
“I . . . I can’t.”
That’s really all there was to it.
“I don’t understand.”
Of course, she didn’t.
He zipped his fly, looked up to see her shimmying into her nightgown, paradise vanishing behind a film of silk.
You must be out of your fucking mind to walk away from her, McBride.
Maybe. But it would be worse for her if he stayed.
“There’s something inside of me—it just doesn’t work.
I went away to war, but I can’t seem to come back.
I do all right out there where the adrenaline is high and the rules of engagement are clear—shoot to kill.
But in the civilian world . . . You know what I spent those nine months doing?
Drinking scotch and trying to get up the guts to eat my gun. ”
“Oh, Zach. I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t meet her gaze, a tight feeling in his chest. He’d never talked to anyone about this outside of the VA, and it made him feel like a fucking weak loser to admit it to her. But after what she’d done for him, she deserved the truth.
“If I left the service and we started dating, you’d look at me one day and wonder who in the hell I was, this pathetic loser who spends his days drunk and his nights in a cold sweat. Staying in the fight is the only way I know how to keep it together.”
She crossed the distance between them and pressed her hand to his bare chest, her voice soft. “That’s PTSD. I had to deal with it after the storm. But they can treat—”
He drew back, slipped his shirt over his head. “Yeah, they can treat it—with therapy where I talk to someone who really doesn’t give a damn about what a weak piece of shit I am—”
“You are not a weak piece of shit. Don’t even say—”
“—or with pills that dull my mind and leave my dick limp. But that’s not curing it. I was a SEAL, for God’s sake. I’m supposed to be one of the strong ones, not a guy who falls the fuck apart. At least this way, I do the world some good. I was there when you needed me, wasn’t I?”
“Yes, you were.” She stood there, all silk, sad eyes, and tousled hair, her arms hugged around herself. “After I saved your butt.”
Caught off guard by her smart mouth, he chuckled. Then he drew a deep breath, not wanting this to end with anger, his insides in knots because of what he’d revealed to her—and because he didn’t want to leave.
He reached for the complimentary pad of paper and pen that sat by the phone in every hotel room, and wrote down his contact info at EPIC and in Washington, D.C.
He handed it to her. “Here’s how you can reach me.
If I’ve gotten you pregnant, I want to know.
I’ll support whatever you decide to do. You won’t lack for money. ”
She looked up at him, her chin lifting. “I have money. My parents were wealthy, and I was their only child. If money is your only concern, then don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t like the way that sounded. “Whether you need my help or not, I have a right to know, Natalie.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. “If it turns out I’m pregnant, I will let you know.”
And now it was time to say what he hadn’t been able to say last night. Somehow the intervening hours hadn’t made it any easier. He should never have let things cross the sexual line. It only made it harder for both of them.
He reached out, ran a knuckle over her cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t want hurt you. I never wanted that. These past few days with you . . . They meant something to me. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I won’t forget you, Natalie.”
She reached up, caught his hand, pressed it to her lips, then looked at him through eyes that shimmered. “I won’t forget you either.”
Regret cut razor-sharp into his chest at the sight of her distress. She was struggling with this as much as he was. For a moment, they stood in silence, fingers entwined.
“I’m going to find Cárdenas, and I’m going to bring him and his Zetas down. I promise you that.” He probably shouldn’t have told her that—mission secrecy and all.
She shook her head. “Promise me instead that you won’t get hurt or killed.”
He couldn’t promise that, so he said nothing. “Good-bye, angel.”
“Good-bye, Zach Black.” Her voice quavered, her lips curving in a tremulous smile. “Watch your back. I might not be there next time to save you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her hand one last squeeze, then turned and walked away, her fingers releasing his one at a time, until his hand was empty.
THE TRIP BACK to Denver took a lot less time than Natalie had imagined.
She packed her belongings in Kat’s luggage, since hers had been in her hotel room in Juárez when she’d been taken.
Then Agent Chiago drove her and her friends to the small Sells airport, where she thanked him with a kiss on his cheek.
He grinned, his eyes hidden behind Ray-Bans. “We were just doing our job. I hope you’ll come visit the reservation again, Ms. Benoit, but under better circumstances. We have a lot we’re proud of here in our operation.”
From Sells she and the others were flown by helicopter to the Tucson International Airport, where a small private jet waited to carry them back to Denver.
As she climbed on board, Natalie was amazed at what her friends had done for her. She took a seat, feeling more like she was sitting in someone’s living room than on a plane. “Thanks for arranging all of this. It’s incredible.”
They all stared at her.