Chapter 19 #2
He kept going over the events in his mind, thinking about the shy, terrified woman he tried so hard to save. He didn’t need to be asleep anymore. She was in his head now, and so was Spencer. They were both young, didn’t deserve the fate they were dealt, and Alex would have gladly taken their place.
He’d been in total control until the invading terrorists blew up half the consulate. He relived the entire mission from start to horrible conclusion when he woke up in a hospital two weeks later to Lance, telling him how lucky he was to be alive.
Alex didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to know Lena survived. He could tell by the look on Lance’s face that she hadn’t. It was one of those looks people gave when they didn’t have any good news. Alex frowned at the dangling dog tags.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Lance said from the entryway.
Alex didn’t respond. He kept staring at the tags as if willing them to give him the answer to a question he hadn’t even asked yet.
“What’s going on?” Lance stepped into the room.
“I never talk about him,” Alex kept his eyes on his desk. “But I think about him almost every day.”
Lance sighed, lowering himself into the chair in front of Alex’s desk. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”
Alex felt a smile play on his lips. “That kid was more concerned with his phone than the entire wall crushing his insides.”
“His phone was on you,” Lance recalled. “You wanted to keep it … after.”
“Still have it,” Alex raised his eyes to his friend. “Screen’s cracked, but I can still access his playlists. The guy had horrible taste in music.”
Lance frowned at his friend and the room fell silent.
Alex let out a long breath. “Shit felt simpler back then. Follow orders, have a healthy fear and a respect for combat. I hate it, but I miss it.”
“I still take the Argentina contract once a year,” Lance said. “If you want to, you know…”
Alex leaned forward. “I couldn’t go back if I wanted to. People want the experienced, old dude on their team, like you.” He gestured to Lance. “Not the broken old dude.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “You’re not even mid-thirties yet, ass.”
“Yet, I get out of bed in the morning to aches and pains,” Alex commented. “I take eight hundred milligrams of Motrin three times a day just to take the edge off because I don’t want to get addicted to pain killers.”
“Jesus, how do you not have an ulcer?” Lance shook his head.
Alex sat back, glancing out the window. He was supposed to stay in the city in case anything went wrong, but after leaving Scarlet’s, he just kept driving until he was back at the office.
He didn’t want to think about Scarlet and her sad expression as she said good night.
Instead, he started thinking about everything else. His mind spun from the tension.
Lance silently watched his friend for a moment. “What’s really going on?”
“Nothing.” Alex didn’t blink.
Lance shifted in his seat. “Just sorting out feelings, and shit?”
“I don’t do feelings,” Alex deadpanned.
“I’m aware,” Lance replied. “But since this situation is screwed eight ways from Saturday, maybe try to figure it out.”
Alex tore his gaze from the window, smirking at his friend. “It’s not that bad. Maybe five ways. Don’t be dramatic.”
Lance teetered back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. “You like this girl. The ballerina … who’s destined to dislike you by default.”
“Say it like you mean it,” Alex grumbled.
“Not because you did anything wrong,” Lance reminded him. “You know Mikael Rush made mistakes, just like that damn Charles Pace did, springing everything on us. Mission was screwed before we touched down. Tell me you understand that.”
“I understand that,” Alex repeated. “I just can’t get Lena Pace out of my head. I focus on the bad stuff, so I don’t have to think about failing her all the goddamn time.”
He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to be the one who reassured Scarlet that no danger would cross her path, but he couldn’t. Telling her that Balthazar Maxim was a possible human trafficker and could possibly be targeting North Pointe for women to sell would terrify her.
If she’s scared, her head won’t be in the game. Her work will suffer… Edward had been clear. Be a protector, even if it means shielding her from the truth.
“So, this is serious,” Lance said.
“Couldn’t tell you.” Alex put his head in his hands. “I feel a constant need to keep Scarlet safe. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t save Lena and Spencer.”
Lance pulled out a small, gunmetal flask and took a swig. He handed it to Alex, nodding to insist he take it. “You can’t save everyone, Alex. No one expects you to.”
Alex looked at the flask before taking a long drink. The liquor burned his throat on the way down, making him wince.
“You have the worst taste in scotch.” He handed the flask back.
“Alcoholism isn’t cheap, man.” Lance nodded, then got up, refusing to take the flask back. “Now, get some rest before I tranq your ass.”
When Lance was gone, Alex’s thoughts drifted back to Scarlet.
He couldn’t stop how he felt any more than he could stop the water from flowing under the Golden Gate Bridge. He hadn’t seen it coming. He never thought he’d be forced to face his past in full just to get to her.
Alex’s feelings for Scarlet were powerful, and pushing her away caused a permanent dull pain in his stomach.
Maybe I can explain it to her better tomorrow. Maybe he just needed sleep.