by Kishan Paul
The wooden planks creaked when Eddie walked to her side. He wrapped his hand around her elbow and squeezed. “Do you want me to not talk about him?”
She rubbed at the tightness in her chest. “No. It’s nice to hear about him.”
“He’d have loved this place.”
“Knowing I’m making his dream come true is what makes the loss easier.” She wandered to the edge of the deck. “Tell me about him.”
“I wish I could have taken a picture of the expression on his face when I first introduced myself to him. The poor idiot looked like he’d pee in his pants.”
She smiled remembering the story. “He was scared and unsure of whom to trust and you… You like intimidating people.”
“Me? No.”
She laughed. “Liar.”
“Maybe a little. But your husband, he was different…”
She glanced at him. “Why? Because you didn’t intimidate him?”
Eddie snickered. “Like hell I didn’t. Your man was scared shitless of me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“But…” His expression softened. “He didn’t back down. There was this fierceness to him I don’t see often. He took me on and got in my face, when we both were aware I could break his neck.”
The burn rose in her chest, bringing the sting back to her eyes. Ally gazed into the night and crossed her arms, hugging herself as she imagined the man Eddie described.
“I was torn between thinking he was a complete idiot and being jealous of him.”
“Jealous? Why?”
“At first because of the way he loved you. Later because of the way you loved him. I’d never seen that kind of love.”
She squeezed herself tight as his words sunk in. This was the first time in years she’d talked about him with anyone who actually knew him, knew how much he loved her.
“He’d have done anything for you. Hell, he went up against people like me and Sayeed for you…”
A foggy memory of the only man she’d ever loved crept into her consciousness. Her eyes closed, he kneeled over her, screaming for her not to die. She’d heard his calls. Returned to him as he requested. A bitter taste laced her tongue.
She naively believed in the promise of their story, of a happily-ever-after ending. Not only did she find her prince, he worshiped the very air she breathed. He made her believe she was his heart, his soul. That if she died, he would too. And she, the broken woman, listened. She healed so he could live. It never occurred to her that she needed to convince her prince to do the same for her.
“Want to know why I let him come with me to find you?”
She shot Eddie a curious glance.
He flashed her the peace sign. “Two reasons. One, I knew he’d get to Pakistan on his own if I said no and then immediately get himself killed. Two, I wanted to see for myself what it was about you that made him love you so fiercely.”
“And?”
The pale yellow lights in the patio reflected in his eyes. “Within five minutes of being at Sayeed’s compound, the man managed to disregard our plan and got himself shot, proving me right about my first prediction.”
She laughed in spite of herself.
“And I witnessed firsthand the reason for his ferocity.”
Ally’s grin faded as she waited to hear the rest.
“You.” His smile softened. “You were ten times fiercer than him. I realized it the minute I met you, practically X-rated in the outfit you wore and pointing a gun at my head.”
She cringed at the memory of him finding her in her bedroom stripped to her undergarments. “A gun I clearly didn’t know how to use.”
“I remember.” He nudged her arm with his elbow. “Adorable, by the way.”
She laughed. “Adorable?”
“Almost as adorable as the goat who assaulted me today.”
She’d heard his version of the story a dozen times already. “It was a harmless baby you threatened to eat.”
“Harmless my ass. At least the thing didn’t bite me like you did.” He pulled his collar down to show her his neck. “See, I still carry the Mark of Ice. I’d never been bitten before.”
He flashed her a sheepish grin. “Never in a non-sexual manner, of course.”
Ally’s cheeks burned as she touched the scars her teeth had left behind. “Not my finest moment.”
“I disagree. It was one of your finest moments.” He grabbed her hand when she tried to pull away. “It showed me exactly how fierce you are, and why a man like David—”
“Don’t,” she snapped as she tugged her limb from his grip. She pressed it to her chest and shook her head. “Please.”
She cringed at the flash of pity in his eyes and returned to her chair, knowing he scrutinized her every move.
Unsure of what to do, Eddie leaned against the wooden post of the porch, allowing her the distance she needed. Other than the sounds of goats and wind chimes, silence sat heavy between them. Her face showed no emotion, but her body screamed tension.
She poured a wineglass full of sweet red and gulped down the entire contents a second later. He’d observed every change in her. How her back stiffened, the way her fists clenched, and she flinched at the mention of David’s name. He’d wondered if he imagined it the first time, but the second reaction erased all doubt.
When Raz wandered onto the porch and sat on the chair beside her, the shift in her was instantaneous. Her shoulders relaxed, and the tightness in her jaw eased. She extended her long legs across the glass coffee table in front of her and made him the focal point of her attention. The two talked as if it had been a normal evening. Nothing of the occurrence a few minutes ago evident. Hell, if he hadn’t seen it for himself, he’d have been clueless too.
She was tough. One of the toughest people he’d ever met, but she had her cracks. After the hell she’d gone through, how could she not? Evidently, she’d gotten so good at painting over them that even she didn’t realize just how deep they cut and weakened her. Another reason she didn’t belong anywhere near Wassim.
Eddie wandered over and reached past her feet and the bottle of wine on the table, grabbing the vodka. He thanked himself for having the foresight to bring his own libations and poured two shot glasses full of the liquid while the other two discussed Little Bear’s doctor appointment the next day.
Ice’s forehead scrunched and brows lowered when he handed her oldest one of the two shot glasses. Clearly, she hadn’t gotten a hold of the lawmakers and lectured them on the whole human brain development process because twenty-one-year-olds, like Zayne Lane, were still allowed to drink alcohol. Granted Razaa Irfani was a year younger, but as far as Eddie was concerned, each person should be judged by their own capabilities, not by what their mothers believed them to be capable of. He’d met twelve-year-olds smarter than adults he worked with. Likewise, Raz was mature enough to understand and make his own decisions. She watched the offered glass, her motherly disapproval oozing from her every pore.
Raz shifted uncomfortably as he took the offered drink and mumbled a “Thank you.” Like the wuss he was, he slid it on to the coffee table before slumping back in his seat. Eddie shook his head in disgust. The man he’d worked alongside had actively participated in dozens of high-threat cases in the past year or so. He’d had his life threatened at least twice and even had a gun pointed at him. Through it all, he hadn’t flinched, kept his wits, and performed his job. At some point, when Eddie’s back had turned, the kid’s mother must have ripped out both his spine and his balls at the same time. Because that man had vanished, leaving behind the creature who sat before him.
As long as those balls and spine grew back by the time they returned to the team, what the hell did it matter to him? He shrugged and poured the entire contents of his glass into his mouth. He grinned in approval when the liquid burned down his throat and relished the way the heat eased some of the tightness in his muscles.
“You have a good head on your shoulders, Razaa. I trust you.”
&
nbsp; Eddie coughed at her words of affirmation. What good was a well-developed head if he had no balls? A balloon, no matter how fancy, was unimpressive deflated. Instead of uttering his opinions out loud, he admired the master at work. Unspoken messages passed between mother and son. The way she held his hand made him sit up a little taller with every passing second. It appeared she reinflated her precious baby’s balls with each statement she made.
Raz stared at the drink and then back at her. “I’m better now.”
She grinned. “You weren’t bad before, aside from peeing on Justin’s leg.”
The response made Eddie pause. Statements like those needed further explanations. “You urinated on a police officer?”
Raz grinned sheepishly. “I was drunk at the time.” For the next five minutes, mother and son detailed his story of how he had gotten so drunk, the police and Fine Ass Justin intervened. They found him in the parking lot of a grocery store with his pants hanging around his ankles. Eddie couldn’t take his gaze off her when she described how her son turned to greet Justin in mid-pee. It wasn’t the story that captivated him. It was the way she threw her head back and laughed, as if she didn’t care who heard her. It was the first time he’d seen her do anything like that.
While she wiped tears from her eyes, her kid’s spine must have started to regenerate because he finally picked up the shot of vodka and swallowed it down.
“So, Razaa. Tell me about ALPS.”
And bam, as quickly as it had grown, the newly regrown spine dissolved. The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitched.
The kid’s lips parted for a second before he sealed them shut and sucked in a breath.
“I guess Boss filled you in?” When Raz shot him a look that screamed for help, Eddie shrugged and poured himself another drink.
Her attention flitted between the two of them. “Boss?”
“It’s the name we call him.”
“Makes sense.” She nodded at her son’s explanation. “Eddie’s older and likes to tell people what to do. Well, Boss over there told me all about ALPS, but I want to hear about it from you.”
Eddie said nothing. Technically, he hadn’t told her all about the company, but she clearly wanted her son to think he had. Instead of clarifying, he leaned back in his chair and opted to enjoy the show.
“I love it,” he confessed. “The work we do. The lives we’ve saved. It’s like nothing I’ve ever done before.”
His words were rushed. The kid wanted her to see his excitement and wanted to convince her it was the best thing for him, the way a sixteen-year-old did when they were trying to get their parents to let them use the car or stay out later than curfew on a Saturday night.
“Tell me more about this team.”
“They are my brothers—”
“They are like brothers,” Eddie clarified, fixing his gaze on the table, aware she scrutinized them. “They have each other’s back. Treat each other like family.”
“What do you do for this team of brothers, Razaa?”
The fear shooting across the poor kid’s face made Eddie feel for the guy. “He’s still pretty green, but he’s really good. He’s our—”
“Cyber guy.”
While the lying kid dug his grave, Eddie poured himself another shot and came to a chilling realization. He was right. They should have never shown up at the orchard. Raz wouldn’t be able to say no to her when she found out about Wassim.
“I do the surveillance. Work the computers. The eyes for the guys on the ground.”
“Really? I never saw you as a computer person.” The accusatory edge to her tone made it clear she knew her son lied.
“I’m usually sitting in a control room, miles away from the action, staring at ten computer screens at the same time.”
Eddie laughed at the absurdity of the description. The individual in question barely had enough patience to sit on the toilet and finish taking a dump, much less sit in a solitary room and stare at computer monitors for hours on end.
“Boss. What’s so funny?” Her critical tone and glance fixed squarely on him.
Eddie considered telling her the truth about her son’s skill and how he excelled in covert operations, walking the scenes, making contact with targets, leading the others. Raz crossed his legs, his knuckles pale from clenching the armrests. “Sorry…” He lifted his glass. “Drinking too many shots makes me laugh.”
Ice grabbed her son’s wrist. “Have you made any decisions about going back to finish up your undergraduate degree?”
“Good question.” Eddie leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees and staring the kid down. “I’d like to hear the answer too.”
Raz viewed the screen on his cell phone while the other two scrutinized him. “I have to return a call,” he mumbled and rose to his feet.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed while the kid retreated inside the house. They needed to get their asses out of the States as soon as possible.
“I can always tell when my son’s lying.”
“What gave it away? The fact his phone didn’t ring?”
She chuckled. “Aside from the phone call that never happened, there were other things. His eyes, his body language. They give him away every time.”
Eddie didn’t respond but made a mental note to work on those indicators with Raz.
“Do you know why I sent him away to Israel to be with his brothers?”
He swallowed down a lump in his throat and shook his head.
“Jayden had been diagnosed a couple months earlier. Razaa was in his junior year of undergraduate school, and he managed to talk all his professors into letting him take his tests early or online so he could sit by his brother’s side. He attended every appointment, every blood draw, the chemo, all of it. Sitting and watching his brother get sicker was hard on him.”
She rested her head on the back of her chair and stared at the wood-beamed roof of her porch. “At night, when Jayden slept, Razaa would sneak off to town and try to drink his sadness away. But every morning, he’d be there when his brother woke up, as if nothing had happened. The residents on the island understood his struggles, felt sorry for him. They looked the other way at the fact that a minor was in possession of alcohol, but the peeing on Justin’s leg was the last straw for me. I called you for help, and when you didn’t reply, I bought him a ticket to Tel Aviv and told him to go.”
Regret tightened its grip around his throat. He cleared it. “I got the message,” he confessed. “I met him at the airport when he landed.”
The corner of her mouth tugged. “I was hoping you would.”
He stayed silent for a few beats, marinating on her words. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Are you an asshole? Yes.”
He nodded his agreement of her assessment.
“Are you arrogant enough to believe you know everything, and your way is the best way? Without a doubt.”
He laughed out loud.
“But you’re also protective. If someone’s under your care, you take the job seriously and will risk everything to keep them safe.”
The description sobered him. She leaned forward, her sincerity evident in her face. “You’re the reason we’re all still alive.”
Not true. One person had died, a fact he didn’t point out. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed the thought away. “Your son doesn’t need protecting. He’s smart, has a good eye, and loves what he’s doing.”
“You used to call Razaa a terrorist in training, and now you act like he’s the greatest operative of all time.”
Eddie stared through the window and watched the kid in question pace the kitchen. “I warmed up to him. Like I said, he’s good. The kid who met me in Israel last year is not the same one who’s come home to you today. Granted, he needs a lot more training, but he’s happier. Feels good about what he’s doing.”
“Thank you for helping him get there. But…locating and protecting assets sounds dangerous and not where he needs to be.”
H
e rubbed the back of his neck. “Danger’s not a variable you can control, and like you said, I take my job seriously. My team is skilled. They know their shit. He’s in good hands.”
She grabbed the vodka, pouring herself a shot. “He doesn’t want to go to back to school anymore, does he?”
“You need to ask him. His brain might not be done baking, but he’s an adult. Neither you nor I can tell him what to do.”
“Yes, on the he’s an adult part. But I disagree on the second half. He’d listen to you. He looks up to you. After what happened three years ago with the car accident, he’s been trying to be all things for me. Run the house, protect the family, everything he thinks my husband would have done had he still been alive. But that’s not how guilt works.”
He watched her long neck and how it moved when she swallowed down the clear liquid. “What are you trying to say?”
“That I know my son. He’ll take risks he shouldn’t and might get hurt or killed in the process.”
“I’ll keep him safe. You have my word.”
She played with the shot glass, her doubts visible in the way she gazed at the glass table.
Eddie leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “All he talks about and works on in his free time is trying to help Jayden. The little guy means a lot to Raz. Hell, he pretended to be a government official and knocked on the doors of every one of the kid’s relatives. It took him weeks, but he managed to get swab samples from all of them.”
She let out a long breath. “I’m glad he’s part of all that. It’s something he has control over. If you are able to find a match, not only would it save Jayden’s life, I’m hoping it will help ease Razaa’s guilt over the past.”
Eddie ran his thumb over the back of her hand, unable to meet her gaze. He sucked in a breath and finally asked the question he dreaded the answer to. “And what if we don’t find his match?”
She studied an invisible speck on the table. “Then his immune system will keep getting weaker, and he could die.” Her voice hitched. She cleared it and slid the empty shot glass in her hand to the table. “Which is why I need to talk to you.”