I waive the doctor off, direct him to the other guy. My mind wanders while they clean. I drift back to places I normally try to avoid revisiting. Maybe it’s the pain in my body and soul, or the fatigue, or the fresh blood I have on my hands—I don’t know. I just close my eyes and let it all come back to me like a tender caress.
Anisa. My heart pounds at the memory. It was a crisp, bright morning almost six years ago. Anisa came to meet me at our usual place—an ancient, half-ruined, Hindu temple outside the town limits. Locals believed it was cursed ever since a fire started inside the temple that spread to the nearby fields and destroyed crops and killed animals and people. Anisa did not care for such superstitions. She was a pragmatist, too modern for her world.
Four months. That’s how long I knew her. That’s how long I adored her courage and her beauty. She was so happy that day. Her big, almond-shaped, dark eyes shined with determination. She had been promised a visa to the States once her work was complete. We’d been waiting for it. Her safety would always be compromised in her homeland. She had been vocal in her ideas about the education of women in the region. She had drawn attention to herself.
I’d have given my life in exchange for hers. I was spared and for that I was not grateful, not for a long time.
In the end, none of my precautions were enough. It all came crumbling down with the walls around us. Anisa paid with her life. I am still often haunted by her singularly beautiful eyes, her captivating smile, her grace and modesty and her hopes, her undying hopes.
My courage was nothing next to hers.
“We’re done,” one of the cleaners say. “Need a ride down the mountain?”
I nod. “Yeah, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Chapter 17
Trista
My heart stops. Literally. Tanner waltzes into the dining room like a thunderclap, veins pulsing in his neck, blood all over his clothes and face, holding two guns, one in each hand. He trains one of the guns on my father.
My father’s face goes pale and then red as shock is replaced by outrage. My mother screeches like she’s been stabbed in the heart. Elsie and Alice both look at me with their mouths hanging wide open. Only Margot has been spared this scene that could be a scene from a Tarantino film.
“Tanner,” I manage to whisper, a million different emotions gathering inside me. I don’t know how to feel or how to react.
“My God. Look at you,” my father says, angered, pushing away his dinner plate. He stands up, throwing a lethal glare at Tanner like he’s the one with the gun. “Did you murder the guards outside? Your own men?”
“Relax,” Tanner growls. “I gave them a headache, that’s all. They’re good men but they’re not me.”
My father is a tall, impressive man even in his early sixties, but right now he looks like a child next to Tanner. He makes two tight fists and purses his lips but says nothing. He looks ridiculous.
“Your bounty hunters on the other hand…” Tanner goes on, leaving the sentence unfinished.
“Bounty hunters?” I say. I turn to my father. “What is he talking about, Daddy? Did you lure me back here so you could have Tanner killed?”
“Tris, stop it,” my mother says. “Your father would do no such thing.”
Tanner puts the second gun back in its holster and then walks around the dining table to grab my father by the shoulder, holding the gun to his temple.
“Call security,” he tells my father. “Tell them that Tris and I will be going. Tell them they need to stand down.”
“Over my dead body,” my father says, sounding less convincing than he thinks.
“I’m not here to kill you, Kane,” Tanner says, “but there are worse things that could happen to you if you don’t let us go.”
“Tanner,” my mother says. “Is this really necessary?”
“Mom,” I say. “Stay out of it. He’s not here to hurt anyone.”
“My apologies, Mrs. Kane,” Tanner says. “This will be over quick.”
My mother sighs and tries to pull my two sisters out of the room. Elsie fights off my mother’s hand and stubbornly remains by my side. My mother sighs and leaves with Alice who apparently wants no part of this scene.
The tone of Tanner’s voice is like nothing I have ever heard. It’s devoid of even a shred of emotion. When he speaks, he projects a cold, almost inhuman certainty. He makes my blood freeze.
My father locks his eyes on me. “Do you see the man now, the real man? Look at him. This is no one you can share your life with. He’s a killer. I’m sure he left a mess behind him. He’ll have to answer to the police.”
“You’re not the only one with friends,” Tanner says. “We military folks are quite tidy.”
I stare at my shoes as my mind races. Then I find my father’s eyes. “You lied. You said you meant no harm to Tanner. I believed you. I came back but it was all a lie. You tried to have him killed anyway, knowing I love him.”
Elsie tries to hold me back but it’s too late for that. I step next to Tanner. “I’m ready to go,” I tell him before I turn to my father. “I’ll stay by his side so if you think about sending more killers, remember that I’ll be in the line of fire.” I shake my head and fight tears. “I have no words for what you’ve done, Daddy. It’s unforgivable.”
“You don’t yet understand this world, Trista,” my father says. “A few more days with this man and you’ll see the darkest side of life.”
“Another threat?” I say.
“No,” my father says sadly. “It’s just the way of things. I’d never do anything to put you at risk. That’s the specialty of Sergeant Hayes.”
“Daddy, you can’t let it end like this,” Elsie pleads.
Tanner reaches inside my father’s pocket to find his phone. “Now make that call to security,” he says, sternly.
*
“How did you get through security? There were men everywhere,” I ask Tanner as he unlocks the door to his house. The question has been on my lips since I saw him burst in with his two guns, covered with blood.
We never talked while he was driving. The radio was off. We just listened to the pavement racing past under the wheels. I knew he had to return from some dark place the events at the cabin had taken him.
“If you’re head of security you better know every perimeter weakness,” he says, moving aside so I can walk into the house first.
It’s dark, like the first time he brought me here, so Tanner turns the light on. This time he doesn’t wait in the hallway, collecting his thoughts. He spins around and takes my hand, tugging me to him. He rests his chin on top of my head as I bury my face in his chest unconcerned with the dried blood.
“This has been the longest day of my life,” he says, exhaling deeply.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wrapping my arms around him to squeeze with all my strength, needing to feel his physicality to make sure he’s really here.
He winces as he loosens my tight grip on him. He taps his left arm with an unhappy grimace on his face. I realize that he’s in severe pain.
“You’re hurt,” I say, as a knot forms in my stomach. All this blood on him and it didn’t cross my mind that some of it could be his.
“I’ll live,” he says, leading me by the hand to his couch. “Wait here.”
It takes me a second to realize he’s hiding something. I can’t have that.
I find him in the bathroom, running the water faucet over his hair, washing the blood off his face.
He doesn’t hear me as I enter on tiptoes. His shirt is off so I have a very clear view of his arm. There is a long, fresh scar on his biceps with big, black stitches running unevenly through it. A little blood still oozes at the bottom, leaking onto his tensed biceps.
“Tanner, you’ve been shot,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder.
He jerks backwards as if hit with a jolt of electricity. “Fuck! Tris,” he says, reaching for the hand towel. “Don’t ever surprise me like that. Your hand is cold. I could
have hurt you.”
“Let me take a look,” I say. “This is all my fault. I don’t know why you put up with me. We should see a doctor.”
“Not necessary,” he says, turning to the mirror to examine the stitches on the gunshot wound. “Not my first rodeo.”
“It better be your last,” I say, resting my face against his powerful back.
He pulls my hands around his ribs and places them on his chest so he’s inside my arms. “How can I promise you that?” he says in an almost sad way. “Your father will not accept our relationship. And if not him, then some other guy I’ve pissed off over the years.”
“I don’t know. You’ll figure it out.”
“Now you trust me,” he says. I can see my morning betrayal has weighed on him all day. My actions almost got him killed.
“I always trusted you, Tanner,” I say. “Even when we were natural enemies I knew I was always safe in your care.”
“Good to hear,” he says with a grin as he returns his attention to his battered arm. “Holy hell,” he says. “That’s a pretty darn botched job I did with these stitches. I swear it looked better when I was doing it. I guess I’m not used to working under the influence of drugs.”
I bend my face sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Tanner. Can you ever forgive me? I’m such an incredible fool.”
“Not going to argue,” he says. Asshole.
“You stitched up yourself?” I say, trying to grasp what I’ve just heard.
“No, an ER nurse teleported to Big Bear to double-stitch this shit,” he says, taking me in his arms.
“You might have lost a lot of blood,” I say, “but I see you still have that same old lovely attitude.”
“I need it to survive you,” he says with a wink. He’s so fucking hot when he’s injured and being a prick. I mean, really. Totally. Fucking. Edible.
“I need to clean and re-bandage this before I get in the shower,” he says. “Don’t worry, Tris, it’ll leave a scar but won’t cause any permanent damage.”
“Is this your professional opinion?” I say, suddenly upset with him for having been so reckless all his adult life.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” he says. “Seen my share of warzone stitch-ups.”
I’m not sure he realizes these things are not common to most people. If he weren’t hurt already, I’d smack him in the head.
“I have a million questions, Tanner,” I tell him, kissing his pecs. “But I don’t want to press. You’ve been through a lot.”
He laughs. “A lot, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Never mind that,” he says. “I only have one question.”
“Just one? That’s a big number for you. What is it?”
“Is my hearing working? Did I hear you tell your father you love me?”
Oh, shit.
Suddenly I get a case of incessant nerves and my cheeks burn instantly red. “Did you?” I say in a barely audible whisper.
He nods slowly. The slightest smile forms at the corner of his mouth.
“Well,” I say.
“I heard it,” he says. “I’m not sure I believe it.”
I don’t let him finish. I rise onto my tiptoes to kiss his perfect lips.
“Believe it,” I say, trying hard not to lower my eyes. “I love you, Tanner. I kind of always knew it. I just didn’t know what to do with it.”
He seems shy like a boy now, an extremely ripped and virile boy. He wraps a strand of my hair around his index finger. He pulls me close to his naked chest. Our tongues meet eagerly, swirling in tiny cyclones until I’m breathless.
Tanner stops kissing me. He rests his forehead against mine. He likes to do this. I like it, too. Our energies mingle and melt together.
“Tris,” he says with eager eyes, “that word scares me. It always has. But it’s true. I do love you. I’ve loved you for so long. I love you now. More than I can say.”
Chapter 18
Trista
The shower stops running right as I’m about to give in to temptation and join Tanner. I wanted to allow him the privacy that I know he needs even if for just a few minutes under the hot showerhead. He’s had an incredibly bad day. He needed a break, especially because I might be making his day a tad bit worse with endless questions I won’t be able to hold back much longer.
I wait with bated breath for him to return to the living room so I can get the answers I desperately need. I’ll use any method, including begging, to get him to speak even if I don’t deserve it after betraying his trust, but I’m hoping we’re beyond that.
Tanner comes out of the shower in nothing but a white towel around his waist. His upper body is still wet causing his muscles to look even bigger and more defined. Wow. I want to poke them with my finger until it hurts.
Focus, Tris, focus.
“Do you think you should change that again?” I say, pointing at the bandage on his arm, now soaking wet.
“Will you do it for me?” he says, holding up a second towel to dry his hair.
“Me?” I say, terrified. I’m not all that fond of the sight of blood, abrasions, gashes—all that stuff. I’m not exactly qualified to be a nurse.
“Tris, really?” he says, noticing my apprehension. “You don’t know how to change a bandage?”
“Sorry, I don’t have a ton of gunshot experience,” I say, teasing him and immediately feeling bad that I did. He had to fight for his life today and I’m uneasy about helping him change a bandage. How pathetic is that?
He laughs. “I’m just messing with you, kiddo. I get a sick pleasure out of patching myself every time I get roughed up.”
“Really, Tanner, you should see a doctor about that wound.”
“A doctor?” he says as if I’ve just said the most preposterous thing. “I don’t see doctors. Doctors make me sick.”
“Cute,” I say.
He shrugs before he returns to the bathroom to take care of the wet bandage. As much as I want to be casual about these things, I just can’t. I’d like to be the girl who would tell him, Hey, Tanner, let me clean that for you and put some new stitches on if needed, but the truth is that will never be me. What I want is to never have to worry about anything like that again.
“What are we going to do now? What’s the next step?” I ask him when he returns. He’s got a pair of shorts on but he’s still shirtless, halleluiah!
He sits next to me on the couch and I nestle myself inside his arms.
“I don’t want to think about it tonight,” he says. “Tonight we’re probably safe and I want us to just relax for one night.”
Wouldn’t that be nice? Not sure it’s possible tonight.
“You said there was another woman in your life once,” I say in a low voice, avoiding his eyes. “A woman who died.”
I feel his pectoral muscles stiffen and contract under my cheek. It’s all kinds of wrong asking him these things now but I need to know if my father’s story is true. What’s more, I need to know Tanner’s truth.
“Yeah,” he says, “I did.”
“When? How long ago?”
He says nothing for a while and it’s as if there are wheels turning in his brain, searching for the right answer. He takes my face in both hands, exploring my inquisitive eyes.
“My past,” he says, “is back where it belongs. I’d rather not go there, Tris, but if you really need to know, I’ll disregard my own fucking comfort.”
I hate what I’m doing to him. “So you’ll tell me?”
He nods and then brushes his short hair back and forth, spiking it up a little. “This will sound crazy but I met her in Afghanistan.”
Suddenly I feel terrible about letting him think I’m in the dark about the story he’s about to tell me. I’ve lied enough times to him, he deserves better. “Tanner, I know this part. I know most of the parts actually. That is, if my father was being truthful.”
He narrows his eyes as he considers my words. I expect to find anger in those eyes but what I fin
d resembles sadness and resignation. “Your father told you about my time in Afghanistan?” he says, slowly. “He told you about Anisa?”
“Anisa,” I say, just to see how the word would feel in my mouth. “He didn’t tell me her name. He just said she was killed.”
“Because of me, right?”
“The way my father put it, but he’s obviously trying to manipulate me.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Tanner, I don’t pay much attention to what he says. I just want to know about what matters to you. You know everything about me. I know almost nothing about you. I don’t even know if you have a family.”
“I do,” he says, looking away. “A mother and a sister in Montana. I haven’t talked to them in a while.”
“It’s a good start,” I say, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now will you tell me about Anisa, please? What happened when you were in Afghanistan? My father suggested you were romantically involved and she was targeted when she spoke out about women’s education. He said there was an explosion at the base when she was there. He said some men died along with Anisa. He also said you turned to alcohol when you came home.”
Tanner sighs. “It’s true that I had deep feelings for her on many levels. And the explosion did take her and three good men. But the rest is a lot more complicated than what your father would have you believe.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Anisa was the kindest, most intelligent, purest human being I’d ever met. She was also outspoken and wanted to make a difference in the world. She had received education in England for two years and she returned home with a head full of dreams. When I met her, I did not know she had been approached by US Intelligence officers to collect information on a powerful man who was suspected of supporting terrorism.”
“Wait, what? Why her? She was only a young girl.”
“The man was her uncle and he was a horrible man. Anisa hated him.”
I can’t believe I’ve been complaining about my life constantly. My life looks like a walk in the park compared to Anisa’s life. I don’t even know how Tanner can take all my drama seriously.
Bodyguard Dearest (Bodyguard #1) Page 12