34. Calista
Chapter 34
Calista
M y head swims. Scarlett and Ivy came to hold my hand. I don’t know them, but if I ever get the chance to make friends in my dim and dark future, I’d choose them.
Ivy is sweet, and Scarlett… she’s got a lot of sass. I can tell in the way she deals with Malone, how she pushed him off even though he backed her out of the room for a few minutes, their giggles and laughter and long silences all making Ivy blush.
Her guy, Mercer… now he’s interesting as well. Mercer is cold and hard, elegance and killer rolled into one. The complete opposite of her but I can see them fit together. His eyes never left her even as he stood talking to someone else.
But they only stayed a short while.
And now…
I wait.
For word on Smith. In this private hospital that looks like it sprang from a rich person’s retreat. I might as well be in prison .
There’s no future for me. None at all.
I can hear Smith, bellowing at someone like a crotchety old man. One who slays dragons and fights Nazis and can get up and argue after nearly dying, but scratch him? He’s a cranky baby.
A giggle rises in my throat, but I swallow it down because I know it’s born from hysteria and if I let it take flight, I’ll be lost. I’ll try to run. I’ll curl up on the floor. Go on a murderous spree.
Actually, it’ll be a “blow up everyone’s lives by hacking them” spree. Because I’m not a murderer. Not unless it’s life and death for me or someone I love.
“I killed that son of a bitch.”
Not for my mother.
Not for what that asshole did to me and my brother.
Not for the girls he hurt and raped.
Honestly, I wish it was for one of those reasons. Two and a half of them are noble.
I shiver in the cool air of the private, exclusive hospital, ignoring the cold coffee sitting on the table in front of me. Ignoring the hard glare of the other man I stun gunned in the balls.
No. I did it for Smith.
Because… Because…
Shit.
I know I did it for someone I loved. For him.
At some point between when he bumped into me and planted that tracker on me in Germany to now, with me killing a man I’d never met until tonight, I might have fallen for him.
Now I’m waiting to see Smith, to make sure he’s good after he passed out, covered in so much blood.
Because I thought Eric had killed him. And when Smith went down the second time, I lost it .
From across the room, keeping his distance, eyeing me like I’m a thorn in his balls, Reaper appears. “He wants to see you.”
“Should I zap you again?”
Reaper raises a brow as he holds up the stun gun. “Mine.”
But there’s a hint of amusement in his voice, and as I pass him, he mutters something.
I turn. “What was that?”
“I said Smith’s finally met his match.” Then he leans in. “Not that you’ll get the chance, where you’re going, but… don’t go around fucking trying to sterilize men who’re trying to help you.”
“And here I was, thinking a man like you doesn’t want kids.”
He snorts and leads the way to a room where he shoves open the door. “I don’t. But options, y’know.”
My heart starts to go crazy as I step into the room on wobbly legs and catch sight of Smith. “You’re all right. I thought you’d died.”
“Twice? I’m not that easy to kill, sweetheart.” He stretches out on what looks like the world’s most comfortable hospital bed. “He likes you.”
“Who?”
“The psychotic killer who just brought you in.”
“I think he likes getting zapped in the balls.”
We’re lying to each other again, being giddy, almost airy with words, like this is just a fun day, and death and carnage and my end aren’t waiting around the corner.
Not a real end, but my freedom.
The CIA’s not ever letting me go.
“I’d get you too, but he took my stun gun.”
Smith closes his eyes and sighs, and with that soft sound, the laughter drains away and a heaviness settles .
“I’m sorry about Riley. He…”
“He was what?”
“I really don’t know. But he might have been on our side.”
“Guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? He’s dead.” I swallow hard. “W-when’s Johnny coming to get me? Is it him? Do you think I can see Henry before I go?”
“No one’s coming. Shit, I should have just done this when I had the plane blown?—”
“What?”
I go completely still as heat sears up the back of my head to plug into my temples, making them unbearably tight.
“That plane, I might have had it blown up.”
“That’s insane.” I stumble to his side and sit on the chair. “I honestly don’t know what to be mad at. The damn tickets to DC or that, or… I don’t know, what else did you do?”
My voice is rising because I don’t want this. I want him to grab me and kiss me. For him to tell me he loves me—which is just never happening—and that we’re running off together.
“You can’t see your brother.”
I push up from the seat. “No. I’m going to be locked away. And I don’t care how nice it is, how good they make it, I won’t have a lick of freedom. I’ll be forced to work for them until I actually die for real, and you’re saying I’ll never get to see my twin?”
“Calista—”
“No!” I hold up a hand to stop him as I look wildly around. “No, don’t you dare tell me I’m overreacting or that it’s not that bad. I helped the CIA, I helped you and your merry band of killer hot men, so I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want to see my brother. Did you know Felicity Trenton took down all her social media? And those bank accounts I told you about are drained? What?—? ”
“Calista,” he says. “Of course she did, and I believe we did that to the accounts. We have ways.”
Smith sits up a little, and apart from the drip and the bandage on his arm, he looks utterly delicious. So close and so far, and?—
“Thing is, you can’t see your brother, not for a while.” He sighs. It’s so soft, so full of heartbreak I want to cry. And I know whatever he’s going to say won’t hold a happy ending for me. Not the one I secretly want, that new shiny delicate thing. “You’re not going with the CIA.”
I stare at him.
“As far as they’re concerned, you died in the car explosion with Riley and Brown.”
Maybe there is happiness in reach, that special secret one. Maybe?—
“And you and me?”
“I’ve got a life, Calista,” he says, not looking at me. “It’ll take a week, so you’ll have to lay low, but you’ll stay with Eva, or at least at her place. Once you know where you want to live, where you want to be, we’ll get you a new ID, a new history, name. Any country, anywhere.”
“Do… do you have any feelings for me?” I blurt, trying not to let my voice tremble. Trying not to let the lump in my throat morph up into tears.
He still doesn’t look at me. “Live your life.”
The anger flares and snaps. Not for the plane and his manipulations to get me to do what he needed, but this. I’m fucking furious and hurt, and?—
“You’re a coward, Smith. A no-good coward.”
I squeeze my eyes against the sudden blur and burn, willing myself not to cry.
And then I turn.
I walk out .
Eva from Cuba is waiting, and I don’t speak to her. I just keep going, out the door.
The sooner I have my new everything, my broken heart and I can move on.
And never see him again.
The lying fuck.