Absolute Trust

by Piper J. Drake

  “I wouldn’t.” His statement startled her.

  Had she said some of that out loud? Maybe. She talked to herself sometimes.

  “Which is why it’s good to have dogs around so you can at least pretend you’re talking to someone.” He chuckled. “Lyn does it all the time and so does Elisa. I figure your cat will do for you, too.”

  “But Tesseract isn’t here.” She crossed her arms across her chest. This was weird.

  “She’s back at the cabin and we’ll be headed back shortly.” Brandon didn’t seem worried. “I just wanted to give you a change of scenery before we head back.”

  “I appreciate it.” She was losing her buzz, though, and with it the courage she’d been trying to build while waiting for him. “I did have questions for you, though.”

  “Go ahead.” He sat there, relaxed, his gaze focused on the road ahead of them. His hands rested easy on the steering wheel.

  She took a deep breath and opened her day planner. The first question was in blue. “Do you really think I might have to disappear?”

  His lips pressed together, and he nodded. “It’s very possible. If we can’t resolve this with whoever has been coming after you, they won’t stop until they succeed in killing you. If they think you’re dead, you’ll be safer.”

  She’d been thinking about it ever since he’d suggested it. “People make this choice all the time when they go into witness protection, right?”

  “Some of them might not consider it a choice.” His tone had turned wry.

  Well, that was fair. In a life-or-death scenario, the normal thought process probably would consider it the only option.

  Her next question was in green ink. She’d surrounded it with lots of question marks because the thought had triggered a whole bunch of baby questions.

  “Did you mean it when you said you’d stay with me?” She hunched her shoulders. She wanted to know if he meant it, but if he hadn’t, it’d be like a smack to the face. Then again, he could get mad at her for doubting him.

  “Yes.” He didn’t add to the simple response. Instead, he reached over with one hand and held it out to her, palm facing upward.

  She stared for a long moment, then placed her own hand in his.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Because.” He glanced over at her before returning his attention to the road. “Why are you afraid I don’t mean it?”

  She drew in a slow breath and let it out. This was her last question. She’d written it in big, red block letters. It’d seemed like a stupid question to ask when he’d suddenly returned from the military. And then in the years while he was establishing the kennels, she hadn’t wanted to ask because she’d been so happy to be a part of his life again. He’d let her in, accepted her, let her become a part of the day-to-day routine of the place he’d created and the life he’d built for himself.

  Asking the question had been a dangerous thing.

  “Don’t you believe me, Sophie?” His hand gently squeezed hers. “Can you tell me why you’re afraid I won’t stay with you?”

  There was an urgency in his voice now. He was getting worried.

  She withdrew her hand from his. It was time to ask. And then, when she heard him give her the answer, the two of them were going to have to figure out where they would go from there.

  “Why did you leave me the first time?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Not “why did you leave” this time. She’d specifically asked why he’d left her.

  He didn’t know how to answer her.

  Shit.

  He knew the answer. He’d even thought about telling her. But this was his Sophie, and she’d never needed him to talk about it before this. It’d been enough to see her smile, to know she’d welcomed him back.

  His life had started again the minute he’d seen she was glad to see him again.

  “I need to know, Brandon.” Her voice was strained. She’d started to hug herself as she waited for him to answer.

  “Why?” His own voice was cracking. How was he supposed to answer her if he couldn’t make words?

  She laughed, but it came out half sob. “I didn’t need to know at first. I had a life. I’d accomplished a lot of things for myself. I was living out on my own and had a good head start on my career. I had enough established for myself that when you came back, there was this life I had and you could be part of it again. But all of it is gone now, and I’ve got literally nothing but the clothes we brought with us and the cat you helped me adopt. With so little left, I’ve got a whole lot more to lose if you decide to disappear out of my life again.”

  And she needed a reason to believe him. Damn it.

  “I didn’t plan to leave.” It sounded like he was making excuses, and he didn’t want to. He could take accountability for what he’d done. “I thought it was the best thing to do.”

  “I don’t understand.” She wanted to, though. The yearning was there in her tone and her eyes when he glanced over to look into her face.

  “After you asked me to take you to prom, I knew what your father’s rules were.”

  “P-prom?” She was bewildered, and he didn’t blame her.

  “That was when I decided.” He struggled to figure out how best to explain it to her. This was the beginning, but it hadn’t been her father’s fault. It’d just been the trigger for everything. “Because I didn’t want you to have to fight your father to go to prom, so I went to him, and I asked him for permission to take you. Those were his rules, and even if you asked me, the least I could do was ask him.”

  Sophie had been a headstrong teenager. She’d defined the term. But she’d also been a caring and considerate daughter, had grown into the same kind of woman. So she’d lived by her family’s rules and traditions and carefully chosen when she would do her own thing.

  He hadn’t wanted to be the reason she’d go against her father.

  “Your father didn’t want you to be with me, and he was so right.” The last, he added hurriedly because it hadn’t been her father’s fault. Not any of it. “I wasn’t good enough for you in any way. I was a pain in the ass and had this attitude of entitlement. The world owed me everything.”

  “No.” So much conviction in her voice. “You’ve always been the best kind of person.”

  “You gave me the benefit of the doubt.” He had to correct her. “Being around you brought out great things in me. I was a nicer person because you believed I would be. I did better in school because you thought I was smart. I worked hard on things because you asked me for my help. Left to my own devices, I was a lazy brat.”

  And her father had seen it all. Her father had told him she deserved better.

  “You weren’t.” She still believed in the person he’d been even if he’d grown into somebody else.

  “I was. There’s no sense in pretending different.” He was driving them in a big loop. No sign of anyone following them. Traffic was sparse on these back roads in the middle of the week, this late in the afternoon when it was still just a little too early for people to be heading home from work. “Your father wanted better for you, and he was right. You did deserve a whole lot better. But you wouldn’t look to anyone else while I was still around.”

  And he hadn’t known how to change yet. He’d only been angry and frustrated. He hadn’t known he’d be capable of becoming anyone worthwhile.

  “None of the nice Korean boys turned out to be worth anyone’s time.” Her words were bitter. “They could say all the right things and smile nice to my parents, but they were all fake. Half of them still live at home off their parents’ paychecks, expecting their mothers to wait on them hand and foot until some girl is stupid enough to make a home for them.”

  “Your father didn’t want that for you.” Okay, maybe Forte was growling at the thought. But he figured it was justified.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shake her head. “No. Once he figured it out, saw them come out of college and not do anything with themselves, he
didn’t like any of them. It doesn’t stop him and my mother from looking for someone, though. Every year, every birthday, they get nervous about my getting older.”

  They’d wanted so much for her. They’d worked hard to give her opportunities. Forte had understood at least that much.

  “They wanted you to be happy.” He thought she’d understood.

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “But you can’t make someone happy with what you think they should want. It’s not the way the heart works.”

  True. And his ached hearing her. He wanted, hoped, to be the thing that could make her happy.

  “Maybe not, but I wasn’t the right person for you back then, either.” She’d understand. She always did. “So I went where I could do things you’d be proud of. I went into service and tried to figure out what things I was good at. I learned. I did a lot of things.”

  “And then what?” Her voice had a surprising edge to it. One he’d never heard directed at him. “Then you came back a new man? It’s not like you came in and swept me off my feet. You came back into my life and stepped right back into the spot you left. Friends. Nothing was different.”

  “You deserve better. I still believe that.” Because he hadn’t become a better man. Different, yes. Scarred. Damaged. “I’m not a good person.”

  He’d killed people. Not all of them had deserved to die. Only some of them had been trying to kill him first. He’d given up on doing the right thing and he was going to hell.

  “So you came back just to be my friend?” There was so much hurt in her voice. “Or were you waiting for me to yell at you until you gave in? Like I did the other night.”

  “No.” It hadn’t been his intention. “I didn’t mean for that—”

  “Don’t you dare say sleeping with me was an accident.”

  He swallowed hard. “It wasn’t.”

  “And however much stress I’ve been under, I’ve been in full possession of my cognitive abilities. You in no way took advantage of me.” She was sitting up straight in her seat. “I knew exactly what I wanted.”

  “You always have.” He smiled. It was something he’d held on to through the years. Her conviction was amazing. “To be honest, I came back and I wasn’t even sure you’d be willing to be friends again.”

  “Why not?” she snapped, still riding the momentum of her temper.

  “Because I left. I knew you’d be mad.”

  “You left without a word. Without saying good-bye.”

  “Yeah.”

  She was silent.

  “So I came back and I figured you’d either hate me or be my friend again. It was worth the risk to find out.” He’d just about had a heart attack when she’d shown up on his property. He hadn’t been sure if she’d come to yell at him and leave or if she’d been intending to cry and throw something in his face. She’d done none of those things. Instead, she’d asked him to introduce her to his first dogs.

  “You needed to build a life again in the civilian world.” Her statement was quiet, full of compassion.

  He nodded. They were almost back at the cabin. All was quiet. “To a certain extent, yes.”

  “It still doesn’t help.”

  His heart stopped. “Why?”

  She knew now, or at least he thought he’d explained it. “Your dad didn’t mean to chase me away. He just didn’t think I was the right person for you, and he was right. I wasn’t. Not at the time.”

  “That’s just it.” She popped her seat belt as he brought the SUV to a stop. “You still agree with him. You don’t even know what he thinks of you now and you still agree with what he told you years ago. And if you do, then you’re just going to do the exact same thing to me again. You’re going to make a decision all on your own and not give me any choice in the situation. You’re going to be with me for as long as you think it’s the right thing to do and then one day I’m going to turn around and you’ll be gone. Again. Or dead. Either way, it’s the same.”

  Her voice had gone flat. “I broke the day you left me the first time. Everyone just watched who they thought was Sophie grow up and do all the things they expected her to. I didn’t live, not one single day between then and when you came back. And now, I know you could decide to disappear again at any moment. Only this time, I won’t have any sort of practical guide for how my life should be able to go on without you.”

  * * *

  “That’s not true.”

  She didn’t want to listen to him anymore. Mostly because what she’d said was true. Oh, she’d proven what other people had believed of her. She’d been smart enough, worked hard enough, been independent enough to go out and exist on her own. They’d all been so proud of what she’d accomplished.

  But there was a difference between existing and living.

  “I’ve been practical and realistic.” She let her head fall back against the head rest of the SUV. The exhaustion weighing her down was more than the stress of the past few days or the elation of finally having gotten through the barrier Brandon had erected between them. It was finally having nothing left to hide behind when it came to taking a long, honest look at herself. “What I want isn’t something I’ve ever admitted, even to myself, until I decided to seduce you into admitting you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Doesn’t that make me a bad person?”

  “No.” He could deny it all he wanted, but his voice had gone gruff.

  “I thought I could forgive you.” Hot tears started down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to try to hide them or wipe them away. Let him see. “I can’t. Or maybe I won’t. You didn’t give me a choice when you left. You just did what everyone else did, what all of you thought was the right thing for me. And you, of all people, I trusted to believe in me. Now, I don’t even know what you think of me, but whatever it is, I don’t have much faith that you actually know me better than anyone else.”

  He could say whatever he wanted. Hang around. Even blow her mind with amazing sex again. Not a thing he could do would make her believe him at this point. And she only had herself to blame. She’d been the one to finally ask him why he’d left all those years ago.

  And it really had been enough to make her stop believing in the both of them.

  “Sophie!”

  Brandon’s hand shot out as he yelled her name. He grabbed her shoulder and yanked her toward him. There was a strange sound like a dart hitting a board, then he was shoving her farther down toward the floor of the front seat. “Stay down.”

  The SUV started to reverse, but there were more popping sounds and the whole vehicle lurched to one side.

  Someone was shooting at them. Maybe? None of it sounded the way she thought it would. Too many movies. All she recognized was the sound of glass breaking, but the windshield hadn’t shattered.

  Brandon cursed. “We’re not going to make it to the service road like this. Both headlights are out. I’m going to break an axle in the dark.”

  He yanked the steering wheel, and the whole car swerved and collided with something. Maybe the corner of the cabin? She kept her head down, protecting herself as best she could with her arms, and sobbed.

  “Ten seconds, Sophie, then I need you to open your door and roll out. You’ll be near the woods. Run like I showed you. Can you do that? Sophie?”

  His words cut through her panic, cold and hard.

  “Yes.” She forced the word out of her throat.

  “Keep going, no matter what you hear.” His instructions were delivered in concise cadence. There wasn’t a hint of the earlier tension or emotion.

  This was Brandon when someone was trying to kill him. Actually, someone was here to kill her. He was just in the way.

  “I could step out. Let them—”

  “No.” Still calm. The authority in his voice brooked no argument. “Not because it’s not your choice. Because it won’t work out the way you want it to. They’d still kill me. Do you want to die and just have me killed because I saw it happen?”

  “No.” She choked on the word.


  She didn’t want him dead. Especially not because of her.

  “Then don’t make that choice.” He was so reasonable. “You’re down to three seconds.”

  Oh no. Fear stabbed her in the chest, and her stomach twisted as she turned toward the passenger-side door. The SUV swerved again.

  She couldn’t do this.

  But she had to. He wouldn’t tell her to if it wasn’t what had to be done. He needed her to do this.

  “Go. Now.”

  She yanked the door handle and shoved the door open. Rolling to the ground, she scrambled to get her feet under her. Her medical boot had almost no traction on the dry leaves at the edge of the forest. The woods were right in front of her, and she dove into them, sobbing as she crashed through the undergrowth.

  Twigs and branches scratched her arms, snagged her clothing. She pushed through and hoped she wouldn’t trip and impale herself on any broken tree stumps. There’d been a few thickets, canes of wild blackberries. She’d been delighted to see them before, but now the thought of blundering into them made her reach her hands out in front of her as she rushed forward.

  They’d walked through here during the day. But the winter days were short. Sunset came early. The sun had gone down already, and darkness fell fast in the woods. She tried to find the visual markers she’d noted earlier in the day—the tree struck by lightning years ago that’d kept growing, the huge moss-covered rock. They’d become shadows against the night, and she reached out to touch them, lean on them, as she ran to each one.

  There were shouts behind her. And growling. She heard gunfire, this time the way she’d imagined it would sound, loud and sharp in the night. Bark cracked next to her head, and splintered wood hit her cheek.

  Panic blanked her mind. She ran again.

  Her ankle started to throb. Within a few steps, sharp pain stabbed up through her right leg. The medical boot was heavy and had started to twist on her foot with the running over the uneven ground. She stumbled across the dry streambed and scrambled, trying to get up the bank. Any moment, she expected to feel sharp pain in her back. Or maybe she wouldn’t feel anything at all when whoever it was finally managed to shoot her.