Page 132 of Fire and Ice

"He broke up with me," Maia said despondently as she tossed back a shot of tequila. She was with Derek at a bar in Georgetown. She had gotten into a cab and promptly burst into tears. Bawling like a little girl, the first person she called was Derek.

"You two drive me bug fuck," Derek said tersely as he tossed back his own drink. "Jack was a fucking mess when you left. If you'd handled that better, you two probably wouldn't be in this shit."

"So are you saying it's my fault?"

"Maia, stop acting like a child. You know what I mean," Derek said irritably. "I thought Jack had sorted his shit out, he's only dug himself a deeper hole. Look, this is just anger and he will come around."

"You know I was going to stay in Russia for a few more weeks? There were weeks' more work, but I told our client that I needed to fix some personal stuff—meaning Jack," Maia said sadly. "I guess I don't need the week I requested."

"You're going back?"

Maia nodded, her face hardened. "I called Viktor before you arrived. I'll be leaving with a couple of Guardians in a few days. Our client is going on full offensive. It's going to be war."

"Holy shit," Derek said as he ordered a couple more tequila shots.

"This last gig was tough. Had to travel almost halfway through Russia without being detected," Maia shuddered in recollection. "We had some really close calls. Nearly got my head blown off by a sniper. Another time we got cut off from our ammo truck and had to fight our way out with Molotov cocktails."

"Jesus. Is it going to be more of the same thing when you go back?"

"I hope not. Like I said, this time we're going on an offensive. We're planning an assault on the enemy stronghold, when we could get a lock on it, that is. That's why I still had time to come back. Guess I should have just stayed behind and helped in the search," Maia said as the thrill of the mission returned. With no anchor, no Jack, she had become this deadly weapon once more who was willing to do whatever it took to finish the job.

Derek frowned as a killer gleam entered Maia's eyes. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"You know what? I've never been better," Maia declared as she tossed back her drink and laughed with rancor. "I have no more Jack to worry about. I've said this before. What makes an effective Guardian? No attachments."

"Maia, don't say that," Derek pleaded, concern in his eyes. "He'll come around, the man is confused."

"I won't let him come near me again. He broke my heart, Derek," Maia whispered bitterly. "I didn't ask to be in a relationship with him. He pursued me and then when he couldn't handle the heat, he tossed me out—he gave up, just like that. I don't need a man like that. I was better off by myself. Like I am now. Where all I feel is the thrill of my next mission. Let that be a lesson."

"Jack's hurting. He's proven himself to you more times than ever. He's never felt this strongly for anyone and he doesn't know how to handle it," Derek tried to argue.

She shrugged. "It's too late."

"Sweetie, don't be like this."

Maia shook her head as she stated resolutely. "I'm done."

***

Jack anxiously strode into his apartment. He had gotten up that morning with pragmatic optimism. It was Day One of life without Maia. He saw Derek briefly at work but his friend did not speak to him, acting seemingly pissed which, Jack suspected, he was. He felt guilty for getting Derek caught up in the drama between him and Maia. Everything would resolve itself eventually.

As Jack loosened his tie, he saw a keycard on his kitchen counter. Maia's elevator keycard to his apartment. He felt a pang settle in the pit of his stomach, a swell of emotion starting to push up uncomfortably into his diaphragm. He walked swiftly into the bedroom and noticed that everything looked tidy—too tidy. The bed was made, the sheets changed, the night tables and dressers wiped down. The floor was vacuumed and polished. The scent of lemon and bleach assailed his nostrils as he entered the adjoining bathroom. Every single tile gleamed, all his personal essentials were there but not a single item of hers was left.

Maia's words echoed in his head, "You will not find a trace of me anywhere..."

Jack walked into the huge closet. Maia's clothes, shoes and bags were gone. He moved to the dresser and started opening the drawers, a strange panic starting to well up inside him. Gone. Everything that belonged to her was gone, even her scent, that special perfume that was all Maia... Jack inhaled... nothing. Except. Jack opened the bottom drawer and he saw them—the necklace and earrings he had given her for Christmas.

He picked up the boxes and opened them. The diamonds sparkled as he remembered the night he had made love to her, how he was bent over her and moving inside her, pumping into her lush heat.

Jack flung the jewelry boxes at the far wall and tore through the apartment desperately searching for any sign of her, any clue that she had been there and that what they had shared had not been a dream. But there was nothing.

She had erased herself from his life.

An anguished howl pierced the room, as he sank down on the hardwood floor beside the bed. His cheeks were wet. He was crying.

"What have I done?" he rasped, a guttural sound against the walls.

This was what he wanted, right? He had told her to clear out by today. And she did. So what was that twitch in the pit of his stomach? That burn on his chest that had become so heavy and painful it weighed down like an anvil? With shaking hands, he poured some whiskey and tossed it back.

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