Promises in the Dark (26 page)

When she did that, he crouched next to her, staring into the thick foliage. She didn’t move, turn to him or say anything.

Shit. Seeing Julia must’ve gotten to her. Coupled with not knowing what Julia had been talking about at first, well, no doubt she was back to being shocked.

One step forward, two steps back
…

“You didn’t know about the family, why they’re here,” he said after a few moments of silence between them.

“No. I only knew Julia was sick. When she asked you to take the kids, that’s when I realized there was something much bigger at stake.”

“Yeah, Doc J’s housing a lot of danger in his clinic right now.” Zane shook his head. “If they don’t get out of here soon, they could be found and arrested. Nothing good will come of that, and that’s why I agreed to take the kids with us to Freetown.”

She nodded, turned to him, and he saw her eyes were red. “I hate that there’s nothing I can do for her. She’s too far gone.”

“What if we got her out right now?”

“She wouldn’t make the drive—never mind a boat ride.”

“Helo?”

“I’m assuming that would bring the soldiers.”

“I’d stay behind to deal with them.” He sounded defensive, stubborn, even to his own ears, but if this could help Liv, he’d do it.

“It wouldn’t matter, Zane. If it could I’d be fighting like crazy to find a way to save her. You know that.”

He didn’t answer. Did he not believe her, maybe? Did he doubt her skills, the way she’d been doubting everything about her training, her oath. “I wish I could make it work.”

“I know.”

“I can’t do it, Zane. I can’t go with you and Randy and the kids.”

“Because you don’t want to save them?”

“Because I do.” She paused, caught her breath, the vehemence of her statement. “If they’re with me, they could …”

“I’m with you and I’m still alive. Maybe you’re not as cursed as you think. Or maybe it’s just a convenient excuse you use to keep everyone at arm’s length.”

“So what’s yours?” she shot back. “I haven’t heard you mention anything about past relationships. Or do you only fall in love with photographs?”

She regretted her words as soon as they came out of her mouth, but there was no taking them back.

He stared at her for a minute, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I’ve never been in love before, that’s true. I didn’t think I was capable of it. And then I heard your voice. I just felt something when I heard your phone message to Skylar. When I went to your apartment, that sealed it.”

“Why?”

“You were alone, like me. Like you were waiting for someone to come along before you fixed things up. And then I found you, and you’re right—you weren’t just like your photo. You were so much better. And you don’t think I understand that you worry about your past coming back to haunt you? Trust me, I know what that’s like—more than you think.”

“So tell me, then,” she challenged.

“You already know more about me than most.”

“I’m sure that’s supposed to make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, but it doesn’t.”

“I’m getting the kids out of here. You want to come, you come. If not, I’m sure Doc J will help you work your way around Africa and let you run in circles all you want.” He turned to walk away, his shoulders set, and she wanted to go after him, to tell him not to leave her behind.

But he would. He’d cut the rope and let her hang herself and she deserved it. “We’re not exactly the safest port in the storm,” she called out after him.

“We’re all those kids have. Randy’s not going. They think the kids have a better shot traveling away from them,” Zane explained. “And I agreed.”

He was no doubt right, knew far more about smuggling people to safety than she did. The past months, she’d relied on her instincts and they hadn’t always been in her own best interest.

But being able to help the kids brought her back to where she needed to be, took the focus off her and put it onto the kids. And still, her stomach ached from stress. No matter how much she resisted, she was slowly being pulled back into the reality of what happened to her, and what lay ahead.

She was pretty sure the blood had rushed from her face, but Zane ignored that, continued laying out the plan. “Tristan will get me and the kids to town and on the boat. To Morocco. Julia’s sister is waiting there to take them to safety. Randy will join them as soon as he can.”

It was too much, but she would do it, despite the sickening pit in her stomach. But if they failed …

You will not fail
.

Zane didn’t think in terms of failure—she was pretty sure of that, would tell her not to let her past affect her future.

“Talk to me, Liv. Lay it on me,” he urged.

She did. “I’m going with you, okay? I couldn’t make the promise to Julia, couldn’t say it out loud. But I can’t refuse a dying woman.”

“So you’re doing it for her, then?”

She shrugged, didn’t know if she would’ve ever gone with Zane as willingly, no matter how badly she did want to follow him. He knew … everything. And part of that horrified her. “I’m scared. Scared to go back, because that means moving forward—again. I don’t know how to. I don’t know if I can put it all back together again, Zane.” The words poured out, a hot rush of confession, but surprisingly there were no tears this time. No, she could almost hear the resolve in her own voice … yet she wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything.

Maybe Zane’s strength was just rubbing off on her. And when he left …

Who says he’s going anywhere?

“So it’s not all about DMH, then.”

“No. It’s about me … about how things will change. How people will treat me. Never mind the possibility of witness protection.”

“I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t need a crutch,” she said, and instantly regretted it.

“The last thing I want to be to you is a crutch, Liv,” he said tightly. “If that’s how you see me, I guess it’s better that I know now. But it doesn’t change the fact that you need to go someplace safe and deal with all of this. I’ll be there while you explain to the government what you did, what you know, and then I’ll leave you the hell alone.”

That was the last thing she wanted, but her pride—stupid, stupid pride—wouldn’t let her say anything except “okay.”

But he wasn’t done. He pulled her close, told her, “You didn’t come this far in your life not to make it all the way. You and I both know you won’t quit now, no matter how badly you want to,” before releasing her and starting to walk away.

He was right. Damn him for knowing that—for knowing anything about her at all.

Damn him for possibly being the best thing that ever happened to her.

Anger and fear balled into a small, vicious pit that burned inside her belly until she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer. She’d lived with it for six months already—had lived with it once before as well and wondered if it would ever go away.

And while she wondered, Zane turned back and began to speak, his words surprising her and finally snapping her out of her anger.

“You keep pushing me away, Liv. And if that’s what you want, I’m out when we get you to safety,” he told her.

She knew, despite everything, that’s not what she wanted at all. And even though the fear gripped her like a tight vise, she forced herself to catch up with him.

“It’s not what I want—to push you away. I just … maybe when we get home, you’ll realize that it’s all too much. That I’m too damaged, and so I wanted to push you away first, before you had the chance to do it to me.”

She took a deep breath and waited, because he hadn’t looked at her once while she’d talked, had kept his stare straight ahead.

The only movement she’d noted was a small tic working in his jaw.

“Maybe you’ll get home, heal and then realize I’m too much of a reminder of
your
bad memories,” he told her. “Maybe I’m just as goddamned scared of losing you, Liv. But it’s a chance I was willing to take.”

“
Was
willing?”

Finally, he looked at her. “Let’s just get the kids out of here like we promised.”

It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but she certainly deserved it.

This time, she got in front of him, stopped him from going farther, unless he wanted to go through her. “Back in the tent, you said that you were trying to forget your past. What’s that about?”

He stared at the ground, his shoulders slumped forward for just a second before his bearing was back, straight and tall, and he was looking her in the eye, telling her, “I was born in this country—near here, actually. My parents were missionaries,” he started, and her stomach dropped as the pieces began to weave together. “They were killed when I was nine.”

She started, a small gasp caught in the back of her throat and she knew there was so much more to the story. Zane’s words echoed in her mind and for a second Olivia was actually dizzy at the possibility that he’d been hurt as a child, as she had been.

From the pain in his words, she knew he had been. How had she missed it?

Because you were too busy being selfish, wallowing in your own pain
. She didn’t want anyone else’s pain, not when hers was so heavy, not when she could wear it like an excuse to shut out the world and try to forget it all. “Zane, I’m—”

He ignored her, continued talking over her—like if he stopped, the story would never come out. “I was stolen. Then sold. I escaped, though.” The pain in his voice sliced through her more effectively than any scalpel could.

“Zane, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” The command was back in his voice, and she started.

“Okay.”

“I’ve never told anyone outside of my family,” he said. “But if this shows you that I understand, then I’ll do it. Because you mean that goddamned much to me.”

She pressed her hands together hard, her jaw aching from keeping her teeth clenched so she wouldn’t tell him to forget it, that she’d stopped bargaining for anything, including her life, six months earlier.

But she didn’t. Instead, she listened, as if her life depended on it, all the while trying to forget that it actually did.

He wanted to screw his eyes shut and not talk about this any longer, didn’t want to go into the detail that he’d fought most of his life to keep out of his psyche. All the partying and the danger and the adrenaline rushes kept the memories at bay. Letting them out could prove to be just as dangerous as DMH, and far more damaging. “I was at the new place less than twenty-four hours before I escaped. Nothing happened to me. My dad had taught me how to fight and I fought like hell to get away.”

“Who bought you?”

This time he did close his eyes, tried to see who, but it was a blur. “I don’t know. Could’ve been a nice family. Could’ve been a hellhole. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out, and I’m grateful for that.”

“You were just a baby.”

He opened his eyes then. “Yeah, I was.”

“Who would do that to a child.” She shook her head and he knew she was thinking about Julia’s children now as well.

“Children are a hot commodity in a lot of countries for many different reasons.” God, he hated talking about this. Hated it.

“What happened after you escaped?”

What happened? Nothing … and everything. Even now, it was blurry, only coming into view in dreams occasionally, much less frequently than when he was young. He’d forced most of it out of his head so he wouldn’t focus on it.

But his ability to focus was a huge part of his success in life. When he was on a mission, it was fierce. Unrelenting.

Recently, it had given him relief from the unrelenting thoughts of Olivia, which ran on a continuous loop … of how he needed to find her. Needed to try to reconcile the fact that Liv might never be found.

At least that’s what Dylan kept telling him, and Zane would say that he understood. Dylan was more of a realist, had learned to cut his losses in his current line of work as a private contractor. But in Zane’s mind, he would never accept she was dead, not until he saw a body. In his world, no man was left behind. And he wasn’t simply referring to the military world.

Now he let himself think about those days on the street, when he was ten, eleven, surviving off other people’s garbage, fighting for his life and living among a small gang of boys. “I lived on the street for a couple of years. Fended for myself. Barely trusted anyone. And then I was caught again. Sold again.”

He’d been cleaned up, drugged and put on sale—all because he was blond and blue-eyed and fit the model of what so many people wanted in a child. American.

He’d been a hot commodity. And too drugged to give a shit. Figured it was the end of the road. Figured he’d escape the first chance he got. After all, he’d done so before.

“My parents, the ones who adopted me—they bought me.”

Her eyes went wide.

“It’s not what you think. They hadn’t been looking to buy a child. But they were in the Sudan on a dig and they were approached about it. And they were horrified. So they paid for me, were going to turn me over to the police, but they said when they saw me …”

“They couldn’t,” she finished.

“Right.” He blinked hard a few times. “I wish I’d been as trusting. I wanted nothing to do with them. With any adult.”

“What made you finally trust them?”

He shrugged. “Little things. They stayed in the Sudan for months, longer than planned, trying to get me a passport. Since it hadn’t been a legal adoption, they had to find someone who’d fix that. Refused to have me put into any kind of foster care while they were checked out. They got more trouble from me than they bargained for.”

“I have a feeling they didn’t mind.”

“Probably not. They wanted me to never have to think about that time in my life again. And for a really long time, I tried. Never wanted to think about where I came from, the kids I left behind. Gave back by serving my country. But D told me not to get involved … that it would feel way too personal and that could never be a good thing when you’re talking life or death.” He paused, nearly out of breath, thanks to the way the words poured out—fast and from the heart.

“And then I came along,” she said softly.

“Yeah. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was OUTCONUS for a month, and when I got back Dylan told me they’d lost the lead on you. That you’d disappeared.”

She had, in a sense. Everything that had happened before the kidnapping—her old life—was forever gone. Some days she was sad and angry about that, but she threw herself into her newfound role with all the bravado she could muster.

Most days, it was enough. But there were times when the guilt of escaping the first kidnapping was almost overwhelming.

“My parents—I can’t even let myself think about who they outbid. And what kid took my place.”

“You’ve spent your life thinking about the ones who didn’t make it out of there,” she said softly, and Zane nodded. “I do too.”

“Yeah, I know you do. I get it, Liv, I really do. It’s just … shit, staying here …” He trailed off then. Because the time for talking was over. Instead, he pulled her close.

Because he needed. There was no way around it—he needed.

“Zane.” His name, whispered, screamed—it didn’t matter. It was on her lips, in her mind, branded to her soul. “I won’t leave you behind. I wouldn’t have before you told me, and now … never.”

I won’t leave you behind
.

It had held true for both of them. They both understood that, they both knew it was the only way to survive. And the bond between them grew immeasurably in a matter of seconds, one that he was pretty sure couldn’t be broken.

“Your parents—your biological ones—no one ever looked for other family members?”

“I guess not—at least not at the time. I couldn’t even remember much about life with my birth parents, never mind extended family—it’s all bits and pieces. The shrinks I saw said that’s my mind protecting me from details that could hurt me—both the good stuff and the bad. I mean, I know they were killed. But to be sure, I checked—or rather, my adoptive parents did. They made sure.” His throat tightened as he remember Ann Scott’s face when she came into his room and told him for sure they were gone. “And I was so angry and sad … but mostly I was relieved that I got to be angry and sad. Because if I’d found out they were alive, I would’ve wondered why hadn’t they found me. Had they even looked? Because if it was my kid, I’d go to the ends of the earth for him.” He paused, glanced at her. “I was twelve. I wasn’t rational.”

“I think you were. Then—and now.” She leaned down and kissed him. It was meant to be gentle, comforting, but it went to wild and out of control in seconds, when he pulled her tight to him. His tongue played with hers, and they kissed until they were out of breath. Her hands twisted in his hair like she didn’t want to let him go, that fierce hunger rising between them.

He pulled away from her. “I can’t leave them behind. Can’t. Won’t. You either. Do you understand, Liv? I’ll do whatever I have to.”

“I get it, Zane.” She’d kept her fingers threaded through his hair, pulled his face to hers so their foreheads touched. “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you at all.”

“Why?”

“You have enough burdens. You don’t need mine.”

“You didn’t need mine either, but you took them anyway.”

He didn’t say anything to that. All he wanted to do was lay her down on the ground. Strip her clothing off slowly. Lick. Taste. Spread her and take her until she screamed. Bite the sensitive flesh at the base of her neck and brand her as his own.

And she seemed willing. So much so that she looked like she ached for him—and right now that was more than enough incentive for him to forget everything else going on around them and lose himself in her.