Dangerous: Delos Series, Book 10

by Lindsay McKenna

  “I realized what we had,” Sloan said, bravely holding his darkened eyes.

  “You don’t have a man in your life.”

  “Well, you don’t have a woman in yours, either. So?”

  Dan quickly finished his fish and set the plate aside, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Wadding it up, he dropped it onto the paper plate. “Maybe fate has thrown us together for a reason? I know that Artemis pairs up an operator or team with the Delos charity that needs their help, Wyatt is careful who he pairs up on an op. You had to know going into this PSD who you were going to protect.”

  Sloan nodded, appreciating the delicious meal that Dan had fried to perfection. “I knew it was you.” She couldn’t tell him the other reason why she was assigned. She couldn’t reveal her cover to him—and she still loved him enough to say nothing about it because Sloan hoped to prove to Artemis that Dan was clean and didn’t have an issue with alcohol.

  “Why did you take the PSD?”

  “Because I knew you. And I’ve been operating in Africa for four years and am familiar with the area. I felt I was the best choice of several that Wyatt had offered for this mission.”

  “I see.” He frowned, looking down at his clasped, darkly tanned hands. He watched her finish off her food and lean over, setting her empty plate and flatware next to his. “Sloan? I made the worst mistake of my life by walking out on you.”

  She leaned back against the tree trunk, her hands tucked into her lap, absorbing his somber expression. “Why did you do it, Dan? That’s what I can’t figure out to this day. You once told me a little about your mother, how she suddenly left you when you were young and never returned. I’ve often wondered if that played into our relationship.”

  Dan pushed his fingers through his mussed, dried hair. “I owe you that,” he muttered. “My mother was diagnosed as bipolar. As a kid, I had no clue. All I knew is that she was up and down like a thermometer. For a few days or weeks, she was depressed, and then she’d kick into hyperactivity for the next few. I grew up thinking my mother was a yo-yo, and that all women were like her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sloan murmured. “Did your father know about her mental issues?”

  “Yeah, he married her when they were nineteen. I came along a year later.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how he stood her storms.”

  “What do you mean her storms?” Sloan asked quietly.

  “Storms of emotions,” he sighed. “If she was depressed, she wanted nothing to do with me. She would go to her bedroom, shut the door, and not want to be disturbed. My father, when he got home from work, would do the cooking, the house cleaning, and take care of me because she couldn’t. I just knew that when she closed that bedroom door, that she was sick and to leave her alone.”

  “And you grew up with this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you think all women were like her?” It was a key question, and she saw his mouth flex, the corners deepening, the pain real.

  “Yeah, I did. I thought the girls in high school were like that. I liked girls, but I wasn’t ready to commit to one of them. I was afraid they would be up and down like my mother.”

  “Did that make you avoid relationships then?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, “it did. When I went into the Army after college, I decided to jump in and start having a relationship with a woman.”

  “You were twenty-two at the time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you put your rules on what a relationship was with the woman who interested you at the time?”

  Nodding, Dan said, “Right or wrong, I did. I didn’t want any of them to get tied down like my father had been tied down with my mother. I saw what it did to him. I didn’t want it to happen to me.”

  “I see.” She pursed her lips, holding his bleak gaze.

  “It worked,” he admitted, his voice sounding tired. “I laid out the rules with the woman, and if she went along with what my boundaries were, it served both of us.”

  “But you had commitment phobia. That’s what it’s called, Dan. There are lots of men who have this issue. You aren’t the only one.”

  “I was trying to protect myself against the inevitable,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sloan whispered, reaching out, and resting her hand against his clasped ones.

  He cocked his head. “Was your family like mine?”

  “No…very different. I come from a very loving family.”

  “In all the time we went together, I never asked you anything like that. I never really asked you any personal questions.”

  She released his hand, giving him a sad nod. “That’s because you probably assumed all families were like yours?”

  “I knew they weren’t all like mine because of going to school,” he admitted. “As I grew up, I realized that not all families were broken up as mine had been. Boys never talked about such things, but I saw signs like parents coming out to watch their kid play a basketball game.”

  “Was your dad ever able to be there like that for you after the divorce?”

  “No. He had his job as a truck driver for a meat-packing company out of San Diego five days a week. When I got home from school, and he came home from work, we ate together because I fixed the dinner. We rarely talked. I would go to my room, do my homework, play computer games and then go to bed.”

  “Did you have family there in the San Diego area where you grew up?”

  “No. My mother’s parents were dead. My father’s parents lived in Vermont. I knew of them, but had never met them.”

  “Did your dad have siblings?”

  “No, he was an only kid like me. Why?”

  Sloan shrugged. “You were in San Diego with no relatives that might have been able to stand in and help you and your dad. That’s why I asked.”

  “No, there was no one. Dad was never an extrovert, and he didn’t have many friends. He played poker on Saturday night with a group of buddies from work, but that was all.”

  “And what were you doing?”

  “I lived in San Diego. When I was thirteen, I got a part-time job on a scuba diving boat. I would spend my weekends on it, working as a deckhand.”

  “That’s where you got your love of diving then.”

  “Yes, and the captain of the boat, an ex-Navy SEAL who everyone called Cap, felt sorry for me.”

  “Did he know your story?”

  “No, never spoke about it. But he was divorced and had a couple of kids he never saw from what I learned over time. He took me under his wing and taught me a lot about diving, air compressors, mechanics and running a boat. He always had ex-SEAL buddies who would hire his boat out, and we’d go up the coast to the La Jolla kelp beds where they’d dive for abalone and spear fish for dinner.”

  “So, in a way,” Sloan searched, “they were like a family of sorts to you?”

  “Yeah,” Dan said, “in their own way. Cap was always playing tricks on me to lighten me up. I was a very withdrawn kid by that time. He made me responsible, made me realize that you had to work hard to gain another person’s respect. He imbued me with the SEAL culture—how I should always be a team player, be there for the team if a member needed help.”

  “So he was a mentor of sorts to you?”

  Nodding, his voice grew warm. “Yeah, Cap sort of took over being a second dad to me, I guess, looking back on those years with him. I looked up to Cap because he never lied to me. He was always straight with me. I worked hard, played hard and over the years, I came to realize I wanted to be in the military. He was a man of integrity, morals, and values, Sloan. So was my dad. But I couldn’t reach him. He had disappeared inside himself. I could take the bus down to the wharf area in San Diego, hop off, walk to Cap’s boat and I’d spend the weekend working with him.”

  “I’ll bet you looked forward to it.” She smiled wistfully, thinking of Dan growing up under the salty ex-SEAL, who she was sure, was a tough, but fair, taskmaster.

  “I always did,” he admitted. “And
my dad was okay with it. There wasn’t much left between us, anyway. And when Cap started teaching me scuba diving, I was a natural for it. We had a lot of good times together.”

  “Was he proud of you?” Sloan saw a faint smile pull at Dan’s mouth.

  “Yeah, he was.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “He’d pat me on the back if I did something up to his standards. Give me a smile or a nod of a job well done. He pretty much gave me a template that served me as an Army pilot and later, as Night Stalker pilot. I made the team first, and I learned that being part of a team was everything to me.”

  Sloan sat there digesting all the information. “There’s one thing I don’t understand, Dan. When you crashed, and the investigation report came back as weather-related?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why did they release you from the Night Stalkers? I never understood that.”

  Sloan watched Dan wrestle with her question. He opened his hands, enclosing hers. “It was a three-man board,” he began hoarsely. “Composed of my peers. Two majors and a colonel, all had been Night Stalker pilots. The colonel, a man named Bob Baker, never liked me. I’d been assigned to his squadron, and for whatever reason, he never warmed up to me like he did other pilots in his command. I eventually got transferred out of his command and into another one. When I saw him as the head of the investigation, I knew there wouldn’t be a good outcome for me. It was just a feeling. I felt he had it in for me and to this day, I don’t know why. Maybe his personality clashed with mine.” He gave a painful shrug. “I just don’t know.”

  “What did he do to you, Dan?”

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “Even though the accident report cleared me, he orchestrated the final decision on the crash to have me transferred out of the Night Stalkers permanently.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he could, Sloan. He never liked me. I never gave him a reason to dislike me, but sometimes commanders didn’t like a certain pilot. It’s not that I screwed up in his command. I didn’t. In fact, just the opposite happened. I was one of the top three pilots in flight skills, and I was up for early rank. Maybe I reminded him of another person in his life he hated. I won’t ever know.”

  “Did the other two officers on your tribunal feel the same way about you?”

  “No. They argued strongly to stop the colonel from jettisoning me out of the Night Stalkers. They were for me staying, but the colonel overruled them by rank and by being the head of the investigation. He could do it, and he did.” He looked over at her, holding her hand gently between his. “I have fucked up so damn badly with you, Sloan. I can’t even give it words. I walked out on you just like my mother did to my father after he was fired from his job. My God…”

  CHAPTER 9

  Dan stared at Sloan, unable to say anything, the sudden shock, and awareness that he’d been just like his mother, slammed into him.

  “Jesus, I just now saw what I did to you…to us.” He choked on the words, a rush of dizzying emotions racing through him. He felt her pulling her hand from his, and he snapped up his head. Two tears drifted from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. He swallowed hard and rasped, “I don’t want to keep making you cry, Sloan. I’m a worthless bastard. I don’t deserve you. I really don’t.”

  “Well,” she whispered unsteadily, “you’re not a bastard, Dan. Are you wounded by your childhood? Most definitely. But you’re a kind, good-hearted person, too. At Bagram, at least once a month, you worked with charities to take clothing, shoes, medicine, and food to the Afghan people in their villages. A bastard is only concerned about himself. You’ve always been a giver, not a taker. That was one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you.”

  “Cap taught me to share. He taught me that it was the team that counted, and it could provide safety if I surrendered over to that team.” Dan lifted his short, spiky lashes, studying the calmness and peace he felt around Sloan. “I guess, in my own twisted way, I saw you as my team member. I always looked forward to seeing you. There was never a time after coming off a mission that I wasn’t jogging over to your B-hut to see you. I didn’t care if we had sex or not, to tell you the truth. What I wanted and craved was your smile, your laughter, how you saw the world because it was so different from mine. You always made me feel better. Whole.”

  “What we had was one-of-a-kind. I’ve had enough experiences to know that. I loved just sharing time and space with you. I didn’t care where I was at as long as I was with you, Dan.”

  “I’ve screwed this up so badly for both of us. I threw you away. I threw the best person I’ve ever had in my life, away.”

  She released his hand and pulled her knees up, studying him in the silence. “I thought,” she whispered brokenly, “that I was over you, or I’d never have taken this mission. I know how much I’d loved you at Bagram. And it took me years to mend my heart after you left.” She shook her head. How do you stop loving another person? Sloan had no idea.

  Dan sat there staring at her. He cast a look around, seeing the gulls trolling the coastline, looking for food and fish in the small waves washing upon the golden sands. The breeze was heated and smelled of salt water.

  Moving next to her, he slid his arm around her shoulders, expecting her to jerk away. But the moment his arm went around her, she moaned his name and buried her face against his neck. Her hair smelled of salt brine, her skin warm from the sun, and he inhaled her as if it would be the last breath he ever took before he died.

  *

  Sloan didn’t know how long Dan held her. Eventually, she unclasped her hands from around her knees and slowly allowed them to curve against his thighs. She wanted him so badly—wanted what they had before—but there was a chasm between them, and she knew her heart couldn’t take him walking away from her again. And yet, he made her hope…made her believe that they might be able to mend their relationship back together. She didn’t make the mistake of thinking Dan loved her. Dan didn’t know what love was. How could he?

  “I don’t want this to end, Sloan,” he said gruffly. “I’ve just found you again. I can’t conceive a life without you.” He threaded her hair through his fingers, his palm coming to rest against her nape. “I don’t know where to begin again, but I want to try and win you back. Do you want to give it another try with me?” he asked, fearing her answer.

  Easing slowly out of his arms, Sloan sat up, legs still resting against his, wanting to maintain contact with him. “Ever since I came here and saw you, I kept seeing our past with one another.” It hurt to speak, her mouth dry. She reached for a bottle of water nearby and opened it, swallowing deeply. Holding it in her hands, she continued, “I’m afraid of you walking out on me again.” She wasn’t going to be less than honest with him. “How can you guarantee me that you won’t?”

  “I promise,” he quavered, emotions coloring his deep tone, “I will work to earn your trust again if you’ll give me one last chance. I’m just beginning to realize how much I’ve hurt you, baby, and I can never forgive myself. You were so perfect for me, and I was too stupid to realize it. I was pushed by my past, controlled by it, and now that I know this I won’t allow it to walk between us again. I swear it, Sloan. You’ve got to believe me.”

  Barely opening her eyes, studying him through her thick lashes, she winced outwardly, seeing the raw look of so many emotions writhing through Dan. She saw he meant his words. “There’s so much to discuss, Dan. I can’t give you a simple yes or no to your question. I loved you. I gave you everything I had. And when you walked away, I felt as if I was torn in half.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “I still don’t feel whole. That’s the terrible truth. I’m not sure I can allow myself to love you again. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes,” he offered hoarsely, pulling her hand from between her breasts, and holding it in his. “I have a long way to go to prove to you I’m worthy of being loved by you again. I know it’s not going to be easy. I understand how badly I’ve hurt you and I swear, I�
��ll do everything in my power to heal the wound I created between us.”

  “I want to believe you, Dan. I really do.”

  “Then, that’s enough for me, Sloan. This isn’t going to happen overnight, and I think we both realize that.”

  “I do,” she said, giving him a searching look. “Don’t press me. I won’t be able to handle it.”

  “Fair enough,” he agreed somberly. “You come to me then on your own time, and tell me just how far you want to go. I’ll respect those boundaries. I promise you that.”

  “I have to have time. And space. I need to get used to having you back in my life in a personal way. I’m here to protect you. I can’t be torn apart by my job and what you might want from me personally.”

  “I understand. Your job comes first. Always.”

  “Okay,” she said, allowing her head to fall forward, feeling exhausted. “I can’t promise you anything, Dan.”

  “I don’t want your promises. You’ll show me like you always did before. That’s good enough for me.”

  Dan reached out, slowly moving his fingers across her knee. “I’m starting on a clean slate with you. Whatever you or I want to talk about, we’ll discuss. You no longer have to hold back. You’re complex to me, Sloan. I like hearing and seeing how you view your world because it’s vastly different from my own.”

  “My dad always said I was the thinker in the family,” she admitted, smiling a little.

  “Who did you get that from?”

  “My mom. She was born on an Oregon cattle ranch and was a rancher’s daughter. She became an accountant in Baker, Oregon, met my dad at a barn raising dance, and married him. I came along a year later. My mom always had a deep mind. She taught me to look at life in patterns. She said everyone had them. They just had to recognize them, was all.”

  “Well, I sure stumbled onto my pattern today.” Dan cocked his head, giving her a look of apology. “Did you see this pattern I was repeating, Sloan?”

  Nodding, she said, “When you started talking about your mom, I saw it immediately, and then I realized you’d repeated the pattern with me. I was hoping you’d see it and you did.”