Page 13 of Covert Affairs

Beatrice laughed it off. She shifted to peer left, drawing Vivi’s attention to the landscape in the distance. As they continued to steer clear of the construction, a shaft of soft sunlight cut through the trees and sparkled in his wife’s hair.

The memory of how soft it was, how it smelled like peaches from her shampoo, how it felt when his fingers were tangled in it, made his gut tight. Even after what she’d done, he still wanted her.

Beatrice pointed across the water. “The mountain, the caves, this lake—they’re all good for search and rescue training. We’ve already installed a gun range and we’ll be off the grid, using solar and wind energy. I’ve planned out a community garden, too.”

Vivi shook her head and snorted. “I’ve got to admit, it’s impressive.”

Beatrice gently rocked Sloane, whose lids kept fluttering closed. “We’re a family, and this place will allow us to house, feed, and train with fewer restrictions.”

“You’ll live here?”

Beatrice nodded. “Our family is at SFI round the clock, anyway. We rarely make it home, even to sleep.”

“No sleep,” Sloane murmured, even as she was losing the battle with it. “Please, Mommy. No bad dreams.”

Ian’s gut cramped again. He liked the kid; in the past few months, she’d filled the emptiness in his chest when he’d believed he’d never have children. He wasn’t cut out for fatherhood now, though. Not with his messed up head and a wife who was supposed to be a traitor. Adeadtraitor.

In their short time together, they’d discussed having a family. At first, Vivi had claimed she didn’t want any. When he pressed her as to why, she told him she feared her father’s mental issues might be hereditary. Sensing he might never have a son or daughter now, Ian’s heart gave a pang.

Beatrice kissed the girl’s head. “Sloane is experiencing nightmares. We’re not sure why.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Vivi reached over and patted the girl on the back. “I don’t like them either. Unfortunately, they’re a part of life. We all have them.”

Sloane made a fist and shook it in the air. “No sleep. No bad dreams.”

Ian smiled to himself. If he ever did have a child, he hoped they would have as much pluck as she did.

Beatrice stared at the doctor over Sloane. “Any thoughts? She can’t go without sleep. In spite of that, these nightmares are out of hand. We need help.”

Vivi faced Beatrice head on, and Ian almost took a step back. The fierceness in her face took him by surprise. “You. Can’t. Be. Serious.”

Ian frowned. Was this the real reason Beatrice had broken her out of prison? He thought she was recruiting Vivi for all of them—the men and women of SFI. The ones who were struggling with their demons, PTSD, and nightmares, just like Sloane.

How wrong he’d been.

He’d give anything if he could take the child’s bad dreams away. Even as horrible as his were, he would gladly take on hers.

“That’s why you don’t care about the Lawrence fiasco.” Vivi’s eyes narrowed, her voice a cutting accusation. “That’s why you brought me here.”

“I sent Ian to rescue you because you didn’t deserve to be in that hellhole.”

“Cut the bull—” Vivi pinched her lips together, cutting herself off as she remembered there was a child present. Ian saw her hands ball into fists, as vehement as the girl. “You’re still out of luck if you think I can do anything. I’m not a child psychiatrist. You know that.”

“I’ve had her to a specialist. He couldn’t help.” Sloane peeked over at Vivi, once more with her head on Beatrice’s shoulder. She sucked on her thumb and Ian gave her a wink when she raised her big eyes to him. “I need someone I trust to evaluate what’s going on and why. As I mentioned, I’m desperate.”

Vivi pivoted and stalked away, stopped. Her shoulders were as tense as her face. Ian knew that look, that reaction. She didn’t like surprises, and while she had trained herself not to react to most, this one had obviously knocked her for a loop.

He hid a grin. It took a lot to shake the good doctor, to put her in a situation where she was this torn. She owed Beatrice and they all knew it. How could she say no?

Facing the lake, her gaze snagged on the contractors installing security cameras. “How can you trust me? I don’t even trust myself. My brain is as much of a mess as anyone’s. You don’t want me helping Sloane.”

“Your brain isn’t the issue,” Beatrice argued. “You may have trouble accessing some of your memories, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still a damn good psychologist. The best.”

“Bad word, Mommy,” Sloane said in a sleepy voice. “A dollar in the swear jar.”

Beatrice stroked her daughter’s hair. “Remind me when we get back.” At Vivi’s questioning look, Beatrice shrugged. “Swearing is common among our group. While I don’t care, I also don’t want her running around using that language in public.”

Ian grinned. Too late. He’d heard her swear like the best of them when she couldn’t get her blocks stacked the way she wanted, or pull a shirt on her doll with ease.

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