Page 48 of Covert Operation

Jamison and Sadie have been working hard to develop a new division of Alaskan Security. One that picks up where she left off when I was kidnapped, and will center on helping innocent people get away from dangerous situations and relationships. I know it’s only a matter of time before they’re moved to a different area, and I’m not sure if I would want to follow. Especially if they go to Florida.

I’m also not sure I want to stay in Alaska.

Zeke flashes me a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “And leave all the snow and cold behind?”

“If this trip has proven anything, it’s that there’s plenty of cold and snow to enjoy here.” I pull in another lungful of the warm air. “But I bet there’s way more warm weather here.”

“There’s way more warm weather just about everywhere.” Zeke goes quiet for a minute as he looks out over the lush green atrium. “Unfortunately, it’s not really up to me where I go. Pierce will send whoever he wants to send.”

I sigh, leaning down to rest my chin on my crossed arms. “I know, but it’s fun to think about escaping.” I don’t know I’m saying the word until I say it, but once it’s out of my mouth, I don’t take it back.

“Is that what leaving Alaska would be for you?” Zeke’s voice is soft. “An escape?”

“As much as I hate to say it, yeah. That’s kind of how it feels.” I let the admission settle for a second. “I don’t hate everything about it, but it’s not my home.” For so long, home was wherever Sadie was. We had what many people would probably call an unhealthy attachment. Something that went beyond sisterhood. Beyond being twins.

We’d survived together, and it bonded us.

Until we had to survive separately.

“I don’t know where my home is, but I know it’s not Alaska.” I straighten from the railing. “Just like I know I don’t want to teach anymore.”

“Sounds like you’re figuring things out.” Zeke studies me, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it.” I smile. “It’s nice to discover the year I spent hiding in my house wasn’t a complete waste.”

“Taking time to recover is never a waste.” Zeke’s voice has an odd edge to it. “The only way to the other side is always through. If you don’t let yourself process what happened, it’ll eat you alive.”

My eyes move over his face, taking in the collection of emotions warring across his expression. Some of them I recognize. Have seen many times from him. Like anger. Frustration.

But there’s one I’ve never seen. Grief. And I can’t pretend it’s not there. “What happened?”

Zeke’s hard gaze swings away from me, sweeping out across the scenic view. He’s silent, jaw clenched tight.

Maybe I’ve overstepped. Maybe Zeke is okay facing my demons, but his own are a different story. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

“There’s a reason I do what I do.” He pulls in a strained breath. “Her name was Kendra. We dated for about a year.”

A pang of something hot and sharp stabs through me at the way he says that other woman’s name. Guilt chases right behind it, making the sting of jealousy even more painful. “Was?”

Zeke nods. “Was.”

The pain in that single word makes my throat so tight it’s hard to breathe. Concern for Zeke shoves away the jealousy and pulls me to him. “What happened?”

Again, he goes quiet, but this time I see his silence for what it is. Preparation. A minute to brace for what he has to relive.

“She was out with her friends one night. There was a blocked-off street near where we lived that had a bunch of clubs and bars, and people would go and hop from place to place.” He stops and I wait, giving him all the time he needs.

After a few slow breaths, Zeke continues. “She got separated from her friends and—” His deep voice breaks.

“Someone found her.” I move closer, looping my arms around his waist, trying to offer comfort. “Someone who hurt her.” It’s an easy enough assumption to make. It’s a fear women face every time they leave their houses.

It’s what’s kept me in mine for so long.

Zeke nods and I squeeze him tighter. He clears his throat before saying, “She didn’t face it like you have. She just went on, trying to pretend it never happened.” His arms come around me, pulling me closer. “But she couldn’t outrun it. No matter how hard she tried.” His forehead drops to rest against mine. “And then she got tired and stopped trying.”

I swallow hard, fighting the ache attempting to make the action impossible. “Did she...” I don’t know how to ask. Don’t know if I should.

“She killed herself.”

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