No Turning Back (35 page)

Behind her, the pitch of the engine changed. She looked over her shoulder at Luke.

His face was gray, his eyes bruised underneath. Like a sleepwalker, she raised her hand, thinking he needed help getting out.

He waved her away. “Go!”

She couldn't move. He needed a doctor. “W-where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” He moved deeper into the belly of the helo as it lifted off the ground.

He was going after Tehrazzi. Rhys was dying and Luke was badly injured, but he was going out again anyway. He wanted Tehrazzi bad enough he was willing to die for the chance to get him. Her remaining strength drained away. She was too tired to care about his death wish anymore.

The chopper flew away, leaving her in a sudden vacuum of silence. Her neck felt like it was a rusted cable when she turned her head to look around. She was alone, standing in the dust. The only one here without a purpose anymore. And now she was no better than Fahdi. She'd just killed one of her teammates with a bad decision. Her stomach pitched.

Somehow, her feet carried her into the hospital. The door banged shut behind her and she blinked in the sudden sterile brightness. Several people looked at her in alarm. She knew why. She must look like a mad woman. Her hair was snarled, her clothing torn, she was spattered with blood and pale from shock.

“Are you all right?”

Sam turned her head and met a nurse's concerned gaze. Was she? Her heart hurt so much she almost wished she could die. Just drop right there on the scarred linoleum floor and never wake up again.

Rhys was dying, and Ben blamed her for it.

A wave of grief rushed over her, so strong it tore a sob out of her. She slapped her palm over her mouth to stifle it.

“You're hurt,” the nurse said, tugging on her arm. “You need treatment.”

Sam shook her head. No amount of medicine was going to help her.

“Sit down.”

“N-no.” She at least wanted to find out about Rhys, and as stupid as it was, she wanted to stay close in case Ben needed her. Right now, though, she wasn't sure she could face him again. “The American. He just came in. Where is he?”

“In surgery. You won't be able to find out anything for a while yet.”

Was he already dead? Nev was in there, fighting for his life with her own hands. Where was Ben?

“The others are in a private waiting room. Let me get those cuts cleaned out, and I'll take you to them.”

Cuts? Sam glanced down at herself, frowning at the tears in her clothes and the blood on her jacket. Was she bleeding?

“Come on.” The nurse wouldn't take no for an answer and towed her into an examination room. After pushing her onto a table, she gathered some things and began swabbing at Sam's face.

The burn of antiseptic melted away some of the ice encasing her. She clenched her hands into fists and focused on the pain to center her.

“You don't need stitches,” the woman was saying, examining the cut on the side of her jaw, “but I'm going to bandage a few of the deeper ones. Head and facial wounds bleed a lot.”

Sam remembered the blood seeping out of Rhys’ head from beneath Ben's hands, despite the fact his fingers had been white from the pressure he'd used to staunch it. A fountain of tears erupted, and she turned away to curl into a ball of misery. Was it her fault? Should she have somehow known that road was embedded with mines? The nurse's words of comfort went unnoticed through her haze of pain. Rhys would probably die, despite Nev's best efforts. He would die, and it would be her fault, and Ben would blame her. He already did. And if by some miracle Rhys did pull through, he would likely be a vegetable.

How could she bear knowing she'd caused a friend's death? She sobbed harder, falling into a bottomless well of grief. The agony stabbed at her like shards of steel, left her gagging and dry-heaving. When it was over, she lay staring at the wall with swollen, aching eyes. She wanted Ben to tell her it wasn't her fault. Needed his arms around her.

Like that was ever going to happen again.

Get over yourself, Sam. Ben's waiting alone, knowing his twin is dying.

She dragged herself into a sitting position, glad she had privacy so she could compose herself. Ben might not want her around, but the least she could do was make sure he wasn't alone through this. She owed him that. And if he told her to drop dead? She'd just have to take her medicine like a big girl.

It wasn't hard to find him. The hospital was small, and when she worked up the nerve to glance through the window of the waiting room she saw him in a plastic chair with his head buried in his hands. Her chest ached. Steeling herself for anything, she turned the knob and opened the door a crack. He glanced up, and the agony in his eyes was like a knife in the heart. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Davis pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and came over to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she met his eyes briefly. The empathy in his dark gaze almost made her cry, as did the comforting gesture.

“I'll go see if there's an update,” he said quietly and shut the door behind him, leaving her alone with Ben, who dismissed her by dropping his head back into his hands.

The ticking of the clock seemed loud as gunshots in the suffocating silence.

She didn't dare speak. Couldn't have even if she'd wanted to because her throat was so tight she could hardly breathe. Afraid he might come out of that chair and unleash the volatile emotions she could see churning in the taut lines of his back and shoulders, she slowly crossed the room and sank to the floor in the corner, never taking her eyes off him. He didn't move. Not a single shift in position, just the ridge of his shoulder muscles straining under his shirt and the fingers clenched in his hair.

Minutes passed. Sam remained frozen like a frightened animal in the corner with her knees drawn up to make herself as small as possible, which was stupid. He knew perfectly well she was there. Was she making it worse for him? She wanted so badly to comfort him, but she had no idea what to say or do, and saying she was sorry was totally inadequate. The second hand tracked around the clock in slow motion. She wished Davis would come back so she could leave. What had she been thinking, coming in here? He'd made his feelings about her crystal clear back on the helo.

The tension increased until she had her fingers wound so tightly around each other they went numb. Ben was a proud man, and as stubborn as they came. No matter how much he was hurting he wouldn't let go, wouldn't let himself cry or scream even though he needed to. God, how she wanted to slide her arms around him and absorb some of his pain. Even if he vented it all at her, it would be better than him holding it in.

“It's been an hour.”

Her eyes shot to him, but he wasn't looking at her so she stayed silent, hoping he'd keep talking.

“They must know something by now.”

He was looking for reassurance. Surprised he was even speaking to her, she swallowed and carefully considered her words. “Nev will tell you something when she can.”

He dragged his hands through his hair and surged to his feet, making her flinch instinctively. But he merely paced on the other side of the room, his gaze on everything but her.

Please look at me, she thought, watching him.

As though he'd heard her, Ben stopped and raised his eyes to hers. A sheen of tears glistened there. “Tell me you didn't know that road was mined.”

Her breath whooshed out like he'd kicked her in the gut. She blinked up at him, brain struggling to process the words. “W-what? I don't— ”

“Save it,” he snapped. “Just keep your mouth shut and maintain the shred of respect I still have for you.”

My God, he thought she'd done it on
purpose
. She started to shake. He's not thinking straight, she told herself, but then he pinned her with a single, accusatory glance that made her feel like he'd just driven a dagger straight through her wounded heart.

Words failed her. Scalding tears slid down her face. Please let this just be his anger talking, she thought. She could forgive him that. “You
know
I would never hurt him,” she whispered, almost paralyzed by the hateful expression on his face.

Ben squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then locked his gaze on hers. “God damn, I wish I knew if I could trust you.”

The bottom of her stomach dropped out. “You think I would have sent him there if I'd known?” she said in a stricken whisper. It killed her he would even think she was capable of it.

“You had access to the satellite feed for hours before we went in.”

“For God's sake, Ben, that mine could have been there since the Afghan-Russian war.”

His eyes were frigid. “Or it could have been planted a few hours ago because somebody knew we were coming.”

“You think I leaked intel to them?” Her brain spun as she tried to understand his suspicion, a million thoughts tumbling through it like ricochets pinging off rocks. Rhys was dying. She'd told him to take that truck. She'd told him to take that route. But it hadn't been intentional. How could Ben think that of her?

His gaze never wavered. “Someone did.”

“I would
never
have sent him that way if I'd suspected it was mined.”

“No?”

She set her jaw, shook her head. Anger bubbled up over the hurt.

“Then explain to me why you would write the fucking coordinates of their position down and leave them in plain view so that the enemy
you knew
was coming could find them?”

It was too much. “I'd just written down the new coordinates and memorized them, then
you
told me to go to Luke. I didn't exactly have time to clean the goddamn office before I left!”

“And what a coincidence that Karim happened to be lurking nearby to leave a note and somehow knew to grab the one piece of paper that would lead the bad guys to our team.”

She narrowed her eyes. “He left that message from Tehrazzi
after
he'd killed Assoud, not before.” Fighting back her temper, she waited for him to admit he was being completely illogical and a total asshole, even if he was upset about his brother. It didn't happen. He kept glaring at her.

“My cousin was out there too, you know. You said yourself I wouldn't jeopardize her safety, so why wouldn't I do everything I could to guarantee Rhys got them out?”

“Maybe you'd brokered a deal where they'd turn her over to you once you helped them kill the rest of us.”

She jerked as if he'd slapped her. In truth, she would have preferred it to his bitter words. For him to believe that of her, he must not care for her at all. No. Worse than that. He'd have to hate her guts. Her voice broke as the tears came faster. “How could you say that to me?”

“I read Tehrazzi's last e-mail to you, that's how.” He turned his back on her and seemed to battle getting his anger under control. “There's too many goddamn things that went wrong for them to be coincidences, and nobody's that unlucky.” He faced her. “I warned you never to lie to me.”

A cold wave washed over her.

“
Didn't
I.”

“Yes, but I— ”

“I'm going to find out what really happened out there, and if it turns out you've been lying to me this whole time... ” He stopped and pulled in a sharp breath, seemed to struggle with himself before he regained control. The rage and pain swirling in his eyes frightened her. “You almost had me,” he mused, and the suffering in his face tore her apart. He shook his head. “When you said you loved me, I actually believed you.”

His eyes were so full of buried rage. Sam took a step forward. “I do love y— ”

“Fuck. You.”

She recoiled.

His derisive laugh broke the taut silence. “Blood's thicker than water, huh, Sam.”

Despair swamped her. “You heard me talking to Miller.”

“Oops.” A sneer distorted his face. For the first time, he was ugly to her. “Guess you didn't want me to overhear that, huh?”

“You misunderstood.” Tears thickened her voice. She forced the words out between panting breaths, panic making her heart race and her lungs burn. “You can't really believe I'd want anything to happen to you or anyone else just to get Nev out.”

“Like hell I can't.”

He's angry and in pain, he doesn't really mean it.
Yet his actions told her he meant every word.

Her heart cracked wide open, and it hurt so bad Sam wanted to die. For a moment, she wondered if she would. But her heart kept beating somehow. She stared helplessly at Ben's broad back through the agonizing silence that followed, wanting to prove her innocence, but not knowing how. Maybe she should go and let him have some space for a while. Whatever pain she was in, his had to be a thousand times worse. She glanced at the door, wondered if her jellied knees would get her that far.

Something stopped her.

To hell with her agony and her pride. This wasn't about her anymore. It was all about Ben. If she didn't get through to him now, she risked losing him forever. “I swear to God I didn't make any deals with anyone.” How was she still able to speak with this pain in her chest? “I do love you. I care about Rhys. Deep down, you must know that.” She had to swallow twice to force the lump down. “Whatever evidence you've built up against me, your heart knows the truth.”

His angry green gaze sliced her like a blade. “My heart? My fucking heart's the problem! My whole life Rhys tried to get me to use my head instead of my gut reaction, and he's dying right now because I didn't listen!”

Tears blinded her. “That's not true. It's not your fault.” It was hers. But not in the calculated way he meant.

The misery etched in Ben's features seared into her bones. He covered his face with his hands and swung around. She wanted to hold him so badly it made her bleed inside.

While she watched helplessly, Ben struggled for control. His harsh breaths were awful to hear. A full minute passed before he spoke, and it came out a ragged cry. “I can't lose him.”

She bit her lip, trying to stop crying and search through the words for a deeper meaning. Was this his apology? His way of saying he hadn't meant those terrible things?