All I Want is You_A Second Chance Romance

by Carter Blake

  “More than anyone.” Her voice is quiet, and for once, I truly believe she is being sincere.

  “Alright, if you respect me, then I need you to come clean. What am I to you?”

  She looks at me with blazing eyes, and inhales slowly.

  My heart is pounding.

  I realize I am holding my breath.

  I feel as if the whole world is holding its breath.

  Chapter 31

  Danielle

  I’m hurt by how mad Janus is.

  But I’m mad too.

  Mad, and hurt that someone I’ve shared so much of myself with thinks so little of me.

  For God’s sake.

  So, I sometimes use a few people to my advantage.

  I know those men are using me too.

  They just want to sleep with me once or twice, have me on their arm at a gala, and then drop me the minute a less-challenging woman comes along.

  So what that I play their game sometimes?

  Janus plays people too.

  I’ve seen it.

  I’ve seen the way he touches smitten women on the arm or the shoulder, and they just open all the doors and let him into wherever he wants to go.

  He’s just as bad as me.

  But he’s obviously seen the way I look at him.

  Didn’t I give in to his wants this time? Leave those girls in danger? For the sake of his worry? What else do I need to do to prove to him that he matters to me?

  He’s standing across the room, his face locked in an expression of stoic anger and mistrust.

  I’m trying to get him to sit down, but he won’t.

  A storm has begun to rage outside.

  I just want him to take me into his arms, leave this dumb fight.

  When we’re touching, everything is fine and good and clear.

  But that’s clearly not going to happen.

  No, it’s all cold stares and accusations.

  “Please sit down next to me, Janus,” I plead.

  I can see his entire body longing towards me. I can see him pulling himself back. Why is this so hard?

  “Answer the question.”

  There’s hurt in his voice—longing.

  I want to run my fingers through his dark hair and kiss away all this bullshit.

  “I got in touch with you because I needed you.”

  “You needed my skills.”

  “Yes, your skill set is invaluable to someone like me.”

  The sky is darkening, and the windows are gently shaking in their frames against the strong gusts.

  As the storm grows out there, so too does it in here.

  I want him to wrap us in a blanket and just talk through this without all the angst. I want to pluck up the courage to tell him he’s being a total idiot because I’m in love with him.

  But that’s not what’s going to happen. And even if he did, I don’t know if I would accept it. We’re both just so worked up.

  “You needed my skills and my contacts. That’s all I was to you.”

  “Yes. In the beginning, that’s all you were to me. I needed to get this done. I needed the best man for the job. And that’s you.”

  “So you saw me as a resource to be milked and tossed away when finished. How noble of you, Dani. Real humanitarian.”

  “That’s not fair. You knew what you were getting into in Sudan and you did here too. You can’t put that on me,” I snap back.

  “And the sex, then?”

  “Okay, so maybe I just slept with you at the beginning because you’re...well…you. But I’ve never used you.”

  “Then why did you leave?”

  It’s such a simple question, and yet the answer is more complicated than I realized before now.

  How do I tell him I left because I was scared? How do I tell him that I fell for him back in South Sudan, but that I refused to sacrifice my story for my feelings?

  And how the fuck was I to know how he felt back then?

  “You know why I left, Janus. I couldn’t turn my back on those people.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Dani. It’s not the people you care about. It’s the fucking byline.”

  “Fuck you Janus. You know that’s not true,” I shout angrily. “And in case you forgot, you weren’t exactly forthcoming yourself then. Or now.”

  “How could I when you left me in the dead of night? I can’t say anything to a woman who’s not there when I wake up,” he shouts back with just as much anger.

  “What do you want me to say, Janus? I’ve already apologized for leaving you that day.”

  There’s so much raw emotion in the air between us that you could cut it with a knife.

  I’ve never felt so open, wounded, and angry than I do right now.

  And it’s all because of Janus, and us.

  I should have kept it business. I shouldn’t have let him kiss me that night after dinner, and I definitely shouldn’t have slept with him.

  But how do you turn down the man you love?

  And I know he feels for me—otherwise we wouldn’t be having this fucking argument.

  I get he’s hurt after reading that e-mail. I get that I should’ve been honest with him from the start about my reaching out to Dave.

  But he has secrets and contacts that I have no clue about. For him to judge me for keeping my own close to the chest hurts.

  Why can’t he just have some faith?

  Or did I really hurt him that much in South Sudan that his feelings have blinded him so greatly?

  “Look, I’m going to throw my cards out on the table because one of us has to. I originally did what I did to lure you out to me. I knew that you had the skills and resources I needed to see this story through. That’s all you were. A hot commodity.”

  His hands ball up into fists so tight that his knuckles turn white.

  “And that’s how it was. At first. But—”

  “But what? I was also decent stress relief too? A side piece to enjoy as another perk of the job?”

  “No, you weren’t just some side piece. You’ve become—”

  “Become what? A liability? Well allow me to relieve you of that burden right here and now.”

  Janus marches across the room to the bedroom, and grabs his go bag.

  Before I even have the chance to stop him, he’s at the door.

  “Look out for yourself, Dani. Can’t write a story when you’re dead.”

  I want to grab him and tell him that I love him. I want to tell him that everything between us changed and I can’t imagine not having him in my life.

  But before I can even open my mouth to utter a word, he’s gone with the slam of the door.

  I’m left standing in the middle of the room.

  The cool wind on my back from the brewing storm, left with this lingering image of the hurt and anger in his eyes.

  I’m heartbroken, angry, and worried.

  I know he can look after himself out there, but for once, I was hoping he wouldn't have to.

  I was hoping that neither of us would have to.

  Chapter 32

  Janus

  It starts pouring the moment I hit the streets.

  Thunder claps through the city, drowning out the early evening call-to-prayer.

  Lightning flashes from dome to dome.

  The streets are rivers of torrential rain.

  The whole scene is as dramatic as I’m feeling.

  My casual wear is instantly soaked.

  Unlike my heart, that’s an easy fix.

  I duck under an awning and phone one of Mahdi’s guys who I know is on the ground nearby.

  In a few minutes, he’ll have a good suit waiting for me at a trusted bar.

  And a good, stiff drink too if I have anything to say about it.

  I take the long way to the bar, ducking down side alleys and through bazaars so I can stay untraceable.

  It’s a place I like, good local raki, tea strong enough to put hairs on your chest, and sweet shisha smoke obscuring your identity, yo
ur emotions—everything.

  I could do with some cloudiness right now.

  I seem collected—for now.

  Angry at Dani—angry at myself, I thought I was smarter than this.

  And, let’s face it, I’m heartbroken.

  I keep getting images of her lying in bed, her hair all messy and her eyes all big. Or the way her mouth twists and sighs during sex. The hot little way her toes curl.

  I jump over a puddle and run through an alley, pulling myself back to the present.

  But she’s still there in my mind.

  Her eyes glistening angry tears.

  Yelling at me to turn the car around.

  To risk both our lives in an act of reckless heroism.

  Blazing, idealistic and beautiful.

  She gets so invested into her stories and those it revolves around.

  But she’s incapable of romantic love.

  God, I feel like an idiot. I feel used, and stupid.

  I slip into the bar looking like a wet dog.

  I need that drink.

  It’s a den seedy enough for Dorian Grey himself.

  I spot Mahdi’s man in the corner instantly.

  He has everything I’ve asked for: Armani suit and a proper Mackintosh raincoat. The perfect uniform for an international rogue to travel in.

  I’ll stick out like a sore thumb here, but who cares? I’m on my way out.

  Five minutes in the dinghy washroom later, and I’m putting my cuff-links in and beginning to feel like my old self again.

  My old self, but a little harder. A little more cynical—if that was even possible.

  The next step is to get the fuck out of here.

  But first, some drinks.

  The shot burns, but goes down smoothly enough. The second one goes down even more smoothly. Warming me from the inside.

  Well, at least partially warming me.

  If I’m gonna make my escape, I better slow down though, I think.

  I order my third drink—a glass of the sweet, local wine, and start to make my getaway plans.

  First, I have to get Griff on the phone.

  “Jackal! My boy! How’s the beautiful, cold journalist with a heart of gold?”

  “More like a heart of ice,” I answer dryly. “I’m leaving her here to try to get herself killed again. I need to split the scene. Do you have a job for me?”

  “Oh mate, really? Not again?”

  I’ve heard that voice before—it’s the same one he uses on Leviathan whenever he gets stood up.

  “Oh yes again,” I reply, turning the wine glass around in my fingers. “Same tricks. Different continent.”

  “I’m sorry mate. I know how hard it—”

  “Save the teenage girl best friend stuff for when I see you, Griff. I’m fine. We’ve seen worse. I just need a job out of this country?”

  “For you, my friend, always. An easy one too. No international human trafficking, no wars, no mysterious beautiful women or anything. Just your communal garden businessmen-swindling-businessman. Few documents to forge. Few hands to shake. Few buildings to break into. It’ll be a doozy. In Tokyo too. You in?”

  Tokyo is worlds away from Istanbul—perfect!

  I get a flash of Dani, standing in the loft without me, wondering who she has to trick or swindle to get those women out of there. I feel a flash of sympathy. I feel a deeper flash of worry.

  I shut it down as soon as it rises up.

  She made her bed and she can bloody well lie in it.

  “I’m in.”

  “Great, it’ll be you, Kali and myself. Starts in four days. I’ll have Leviathan send you an encrypted rendezvous point. Now, I gotta go see a man about a dog.”

  I hear the line cut.

  And then it’s just me, my sadness, my nice new outfit, and my go bag full of secrets. I gulp down my wine and order another.

  I hope she doesn’t do anything mad.

  Even if she is a heartless monster, I’ll be devastated if she gets hurt.

  Maybe I should go back and just check that—

  No. No. Absolutely not.

  I busy myself looking through my documents.

  Fake passport? Check.

  Platinum card? Ready.

  Okay, time to get Eagle to get me out of here.

  A short phone call later and I’m scheduled to fly out first thing in the morning.

  Fifteen minutes to construct an exit strategy, I’m pretty good if I say so myself.

  The wine agrees.

  The storm is still lashing and howling outside.

  It’s as agitated as I feel.

  I keep seeing her face, illuminated by the Parthenon, smiling and open and warm as we talked about our pasts.

  I keep thinking of relaxed she was when she woke up.

  The business of the day cast off for a second.

  Slow and sleepy and luxurious.

  Kissing me deeply and heavily.

  That couldn’t have all been fake. Nobody is that good of an actor.

  There must at least have been a grain of truth in there. But a grain is just a grain. Not enough to build anything around.

  You’re too smart for this shit.

  I grip the stem of my wine glass and down it. Is that the fourth for the night?

  I’ve lost count.

  I need to order another.

  Her face keeps flashing before my mind.

  Fighting in the loft.

  Self-righteous, as usual.

  Defensive, as usual.

  But something else?

  Hurt? Sad? Longing?

  She kept reaching for me. She kept motioning for me to sit down next to her.

  Why didn’t I sit down?

  Because I wasn’t going to be played any longer, that’s why.

  I sigh.

  The bar seems to sigh with me.

  The whole world seems to be wobbly and shaky.

  I put this down to the alcohol, and then congratulate myself on my problem-solving skills.

  God, I can’t believe I fell for her tricks again.

  As if being left to die in South Sudan wasn’t enough.

  Am I losing my edge?

  No, no, I got smitten and tripped out, that’s all.

  But I know better now, I won’t do it again.

  I’m getting out of here.

  And if Dani wants to get herself killed, that’s no longer my business.

  Chapter 33

  Danielle

  I’m angry, and, to be honest, I’m a little heartbroken—which only makes me angrier. It feels like a never-ending cycle.

  I thought I could open up to Janus and be completely honest. In my line of work, that’s rare—extremely rare. Turns out I was wrong and, luckily, dodged a bullet.

  Anyone with any observational skill at all would’ve been able to tell that I was falling for the man.

  Clearly, he’s not as good as he—and I, evidently—believes.

  I think of his face, twisted with hurt and suspicion, and the way he couldn’t look at me in the eye. I feel a twinge of sadness that I didn’t tell him my feelings sooner.

  I think of him refusing to sit down next to me—refusing to be touched, as if I was something toxic or some kind of monster.

  My sadness twists to anger.

  Fuck Janus.

  I can do this without him. I’m not some damsel in distress or some incompetent amateur. I continued in Sudan without him, and I can continue here.

  I need to do some research.

  I open the offending email that caused all the unnecessary drama. I email all of Dave’s contacts, playing up my naivety a little so that they will trust me and feel worried for me—whatever gets the information out of them. I know that infiltrating a human-trafficking ring will the dangerous, and I need all the Intel I can get.

  Next, I lay out my infiltration outfit on the bed. I’m going for a rich buyer.

  I remember Janus giving me all these clothes—explaining why each item was the perfect one f
or each situation we were going into—the flirty way he would brush his hand against mine as he handed me each garment, and the silly British words he used for everything: ‘blouse’ for ‘shirt’ and ‘trousers’ for ‘pants’.

  No. No Janus.

  He’s a distraction I cannot afford right now. I have to rescue those girls, not sulk over some guy.

  I think about all those women and children, looking scared and vacant, standing around in their own filth and blood. I think of the heartless guards, lazily watching over them as if they were cattle.

  My blood is boiling.

  I need to channel that anger and use it.

  I make a list of everything I’ll need and start to formulate a proper plan. It doesn’t even take long. I’ll say this for Janus, he’s a good teacher.

  But I was looking forward to learning more from him and not just about clandestine skill set.

  I’ll rescue these girls, get out of here, write this story, and then, to celebrate, I’ll go to a bar and find someone else to keep me warm for a few nights. Someone with fewer feelings.

  I go over my plan again.

  It’s watertight. As long as nothing goes wrong, that is.

  But there are a few supplies I need first. I have to get onto Mahdi.

  Luckily, Janus gave me Mahdi’s number days ago in case anything goes wrong—and while we were in bed at that.

  It was one of those beautiful, sweet little moments you enjoy while in the middle of the heat of everything. The sun was pouring through the windows, the world was turning without us, and he was so soft, gentle, and concerned.

  “I’m in this with you, but if anything happens to me or anything at all goes wrong, you take this number, and you call Mahdi, okay? Promise me you won’t go all rogue and independent,” he said with such affection.

  That moment would have been a good time to come clean about my feelings, but hindsight and all that.

  I’ve got this covered, though. I’ve always got it covered.

  Mahdi’s voice over the phone is kind and concerned.

  The wind is starting to pick up more, and I shut the balcony doors before it completely drowns out Mahdi’s voice.

  “Habibi, I heard you and Janus parted ways. I’m endlessly sorry to hear it. But perhaps, it is time for you to go back to America for a while until things become a little less dangerous?”

  Not you too, Mahdi! Like hell I’ll go back to America.