Page 48 of Trust No One

She shifted onto her side and stared down at him. “You saw so much death and dying in Afghanistan,” she said, touching the new scar again. “How did you do it?”

He stroked a hand down her back. Tightened his arm around her for a moment, then stroked her again. He knew exactly what she was asking. “It was hard, Mel. Awful. But I knew it was me or them. I knew they’d kill me without a second thought. Worse, they’d kill innocents, too. Eventually, I was able to compartmentalize what we did.”

He sighed. “I’ve seen lots of terrible things in the SEALs and in the CIA SpecOps group. But it helped to know I was protecting people from monsters.” He dropped a kiss onto her head. “Eventually, though, I had to leave. I’d seen enough. Done enough. Living like that eats away at your humanity. You begin to look at everyone with suspicion. With distrust. I didn’t want to live like that anymore.”

“You never said anything about that stuff when we were in Kabul,” she said, lifting to look down at him.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my memories. So I buried them deep.”

She cupped his face with her hand. “Did you talk to anyone about that stuff?”

“Hell, no. None of us did. We did our job. Got drunk on our down time. Lather, rinse, repeat.”

He shifted to sit against the headboard, then drew her up beside him. Curled his arm around her shoulder to keep her close. “It helped that I came home to you. To know I could lose myself in you. You had a tough job, but you weren’t burdened with memories of death and destruction. And I wanted to keep it that way.”

She curled her fingers around his hand and held on. “You could have talked to me. Got it out of your head. I wouldn’t have passed judgement. I knew it was your job to run those ops.”

He leaned closer and stared into her eyes. “Why would I have put those pictures in your head? I couldn’t do that to you.Wouldn’t.”

Mel leaned her shoulder against his. “I had no idea,” she said softly. “No inkling of what you faced every day. I knew you carried a gun. Knew you used it when you had to. But it was abstract. Hypothetical. Notreal.”

“Watching that bastard Kingsley shoot Larrimore in cold blood was as real as it gets,” he said. He drew her closer and buried his face in her hair. Breathed in her scent, which was as familiar to him as his own. He hadn’t realized until now how much he’d relied on Mel to banish all the ugly memories.

She’d done it for him because she loved him. Didn’t want him to suffer. And yet he’d shoved her away when she told him she loved him.

He eased away from her, slid off the bed and stood up. He was a bastard who didn’t deserve a woman like Mel. “I think we should call Simon,” he said, his voice gruff with shame. “Tell him what happened. See who we should talk to.”

Mel drew a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “I agree. But maybe wait for tonight? When he’s home? I don’t want to call him at the CIA. They probably track every phone call that comes into Langley. I don’t want to be on a log somewhere, even with a burner phone. A log that Kingsley might have access to.”

“Yeah, good thinking.” Thank God they were talking about procedures. What steps to take next. Moving away from the touchy-feely stuff. His memories and regrets. It would take a long time to banish the memories they’d made in this room, but he’d force himself to do it.

Everything had changed between him and Mel in the last hour, but those changes wouldn’t last. Knowing that, he didn’t have a choice. He had to erase them from his memory.

But regret burned. Ached. Mel was his perfect match. But that was over, and it had been his choice.

“I’m gonna do some research,” he said. “Figure out a place where we could meet Simon.” He reached over her and grabbed his computer. Stopped and looked down at her. “Do you want to stay here with me while I do it? Or would you rather go back to your room?”

Mel gave him a shaky but genuine smile. “I’d like to stay here for a few more minutes. Then I’ll go into my room. Maybe call Gideon and see if he’s made any progress with the dark web.”

Just as he’d known they would be, they were back to the status quo. His heart ached, but he hadn’t expected anything to change between them. Mel had been clear this was a one-time deal.

“Sounds good,” he said, relieved that Mel was thinking about business again and not focused on Larrimore’s death. “Leave the door open,” he said. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” she said.

Chapter 17

He watched Mel walk into her own room, pleased when she didn’t close the door. Mel had shown a rare moment of weakness when she’d sought him out for comfort, but he was pretty sure she was busy burying those memories. Rebuilding her walls.

He stared down at his computer but made no move to turn it on. Mel had been devastated today to witness Larrimore’s murder, and she’d turned to him. It was more than he’d ever expected, but Mel would get over it just fine. In the long run, she didn’t need him. She’d made that very clear. She might be glad he was on this trip with her, might have turned to him for comfort to help her banish the memories of seeing a man killed in front of her, but their truce was temporary. Once Kingsley was behind bars, she’d walk away without looking back.

The thought of never seeing Mel again sent a sharp stab of pain through his chest. She’d been a part of his life for a long time.

He took a deep breath. Blew it out. They wanted very different things in life. She wanted a happily-ever-after. Maybe even a rug rat or two.

Him? His answer was automatic – he didn’t want to be tied down. He’d seen what had happened to his parents. Their marriage had fallen apart when his mother got clingy. When his father started staying away.

When they were both home at the same time? Ugliness, yelling and fighting. His mom with bruises. His dad disappearing again.

---