Crushing her close, he whispered into her hair, watching as the waves closed over the sun, leaving a faint golden sheen atop the inky darkness of the water. “Someday, somehow, I have to make them believe.”
* * *
An hour later, Rowan sat curled up on the corner of the sectional sofa in his favorite spot, temporarily revived by a steaming hot shower. He’d pulled on a pair of ragged jeans and in a moment of bitter irony, an old FBI sweat shirt, another item Chad had snagged for him out of his hotel room in Sioux Falls. Sipping whiskey, he glanced sideways at Danielle, sitting next to him with a glass of wine, her legs entwined with his. Heaving a sigh, he wrapped an arm around her. It was time to make good on his promise to talk. “Something strange happened today, while I was with Angelo.”
Surprise mingled with curiosity in Danielle’s face, and she took a swallow of wine before tilting her head toward him. “Really? What happened?”
Obviously she hadn’t thought he’d talk. Damn it, what if another blast of emotion he couldn’t manage came over him? It was too late now, though, because he could see from the look on her face that blowing off the whole thing would only whet her appetite. And he didn’t have the energy to resist. “It’s hard to explain. See, a couple times, when I was…I thought…”
Thinking about the brutality always made him queasy. Danielle cupped her hand on his cheek. “Is this something that happened at Quantico?”
He nodded. “And once before… But at the end, in Quantico, I knew it was all over. Next stop Torah Prison, and I’d be lost forever. Then, I don’t know how else to describe it, a presence surrounded me. It talked to me, told me to ask for help. So, I did.”
Eyes like saucers, Danielle sipped her wine and snuggled closer. Her voice was quiet, almost reverent. “Wow. What an incredible experience.” She paused and placed her hand on his cheek again. “You’ve been through so much. I’m glad you decided to talk to me. What happened next?”
Giving her a weak smile, he shrugged. “Well, here we are. Today, Angelo asked me about September 11, 2001 and wanted to know if something personal had happened to me that day. I told him about Michelle…” He let his voice trail off. No way could he tell Danielle the whole story, he was too exhausted. Rubbing his eyes, he sighed. “But anyway, all of a sudden, that presence surrounded me again.”
Danielle twirled her wine glass and gazed calmly into his eyes. “You can tell me anything, Rowan. I’ll listen anytime.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “You didn’t have to surrender… But you did, for me.” She sniffed and smiled, blinking the tears away. “I love you so much.”
Amazed as always by how much she cared for him, he finished the Jack Daniel’s, thankful for the whiskey’s warmth spreading through his body. But then the shattering emotions he couldn’t escape gripped him again. The lump in his throat hardened and tears stung his eyes. He tried to swallow, irritated by the hoarseness in his voice. “You know I love you too. I’d do anything for you, Danielle. It’s just…”
Fearful that he’d break down, he looked at her helplessly, his voice a whisper. “All I want to do is forget. But that presence…” He stopped again and took a deep breath. “It offered kindness, to me. I still don’t understand why, and I’m sure I never will.”
Touching her fingers to his lips, Danielle gazed at him, the compassion in her face nearly undoing his shaky composure. “You don’t have to say anymore. I get it.”
Surprised, he wiped the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and twisted around so he could face her. “You do?”
Pulling her legs up so she could wrap her arms around her knees, she gave him a sweet smile and nodded. “What I mean is this – I get what you’re trying to tell me. After being treated like a traitor and being beaten, along with whatever else that CIA agent did to you, to experience kindness must have been incredible.”
Taking a shuddering breath, he nodded. “Yep, you’re right. Even now, I feel like I don’t deserve what’s somehow being offered. And I’m not entirely sure what that is.” A huge yawn interrupted him and he wiped his running nose with the back of his hand.
Danielle looked like she was just getting warmed up and watching her made him even more weary. “Rowan, how can you say you don’t deserve kindness, wherever it’s coming from? I wonder. After talking to your mom a few times, it seems like, I don’t know, maybe this presence is God wanting to help you.”
Too tired to get angry at the mention of his mother and her religion, he could only stare, wishing he’d refilled his glass of Jack Daniel’s. “Nothing my mother says to me about God makes any sense. I don’t even know if I believe in God. And anyway, if that’s who was talking to me…which I doubt, he wouldn’t want to help me, of all people.”
Danielle wrinkled her nose. “What makes you say that? Why wouldn’t God want to help you?”
Thankful that the hellish wave of emotion had retreated, at least for the moment, he looked at her and wondered how he’d gotten himself in so deep. They’d never talked about his past and all the martyrs he’d sent to paradise. Wishing with all his heart that he’d never agreed to have a conversation, he sighed again. “Well, because I’ve killed way too many people, more than I can count. But you didn’t know that, did you?”
Danielle opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “Let me finish. They were terrorists, and I eliminated them on behalf of the country that calls me a traitor now, but still…I don’t think God would make a distinction.” The bitter longing that welled up inside him was almost as bad as the raw emotions he couldn’t control and surprised him just as much. Why did he care whether a God he wasn’t sure existed wanted to help him or not?
Danielle chuckled and tapped him on the chest with an index finger. “I know, but I think you’re wrong. You make things way too complicated.”
He scowled and grabbed her finger. “Wait a minute. How could you know about the terrorists I’ve killed? Did Michael or Gabriel tell you? And what do you mean, I make things too complicated?”
Danielle’s eyes held a defiant glint when she looked at him. “Gabriel and I have talked a couple times… And when you were in the hospital, I wanted to know what was going on. I was hungry to learn everything I could about you. Bettina told me about when you were kids growing up, but also that you’d changed a lot.”
She paused and he watched as embarrassment tinged her cheeks. “So anyway, Chad left your laptop with me one time when he and Ralph went down to the cafeteria to eat. The flash drive was with it and I read everything. Didn’t you get the gift I left for you? I put a note with it, telling you I was grateful for all you’d done.”
Dumbfounded at her admission, he let go of her finger and dug in the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out the coin she’d given him. Ralph had passed it back to him one afternoon while they were fishing. Happy to have it again, he’d stuffed it in his pocket and kept it with him. Now he laid it in his palm. “I got your note, but I didn’t realize you were talking about the black ops. Getting the note and this coin meant everything to me. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before now.”
Danielle had tears in her eyes again. “I’ll never forget that awful day. Saying good-bye to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t want to say those words to you – ever again.”
He stuffed the coin back in his pocket and reached out to wipe away the one tear that had slid down her cheek. “Me either.”
When she smiled, he sagged in relief. So damn tired he could barely think, he just wanted to end their conversation and go to bed. But then she nailed him. “Rowan, look, you make things complicated because your thoughts about God are all tangled up in the crap your mom told you years ago. Even she admits it was garbage, so maybe you should let it go. Then you can start to get acquainted with that presence or being – and I think it’s entirely possible that it’s God. Maybe that’s how you’ll find healing for all the horrible, evil things that have been done to you.”
Wanting
to run far away from the draining emotions and even the thought of making God’s acquaintance, he drew her into his arms and held her tight. His only hope was to tweak her, get her mind on another track, and maybe even make her mad. “Like I said, nothing my mother says to me about God makes any sense. But you are incredible. You make way too much sense. I knew there had to be more than one reason I fell in love with you. Your mind outdoes your fabulous body sometimes and damn – now that’s saying something.”
Snickering while she squirmed, he was glad she couldn’t get a hold of him or see the smirk on his face. This was going to work magnificently and he might even get some sleep. “Rowan Milani – that is the most chauvinistic thing you have ever said to me. You know, sometimes you are a first-class jerk, and if you weren’t so damn good looking, you’d be…well, you’d be sorry.”
Keeping her trapped in his arms while she huffed, he yawned again and let his chin rest on the top of her head. “Nah, I’m not a chauvinist, I’m just a guy. And hell, people have been telling me I’m a jerk for years. But as long as I’ve got you, I’ll never be sorry. Now c’mon, let’s go to bed. I’ve got big plans for that great mind of yours, first thing in the morning.”
THE END
###
Mary Yungeberg has been a storyteller and writer all her life. She has had numerous human interest articles published in a variety of magazines. Consummate Betrayal is her first novel. She lives in eastern South Dakota with her husband and a naughty rat terrier who micromanages their lives. You may find her in an inconspicuous corner of an airport with her laptop, working on Unholy Retribution, the next Rowan Milani thriller.
Consummate Betrayal Page 33