“I wanted to clear the air,” Stone said.
Grant made a “go ahead” motion. As far as he was concerned, their objective had been met. They didn’t need to act like partners anymore.
“Thank you.” Stone shook his head a little, as if in disbelief. “For everything. Zoe wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you, and probably neither would I.”
“Just doing my job,” Grant lied. “Where is she?” Stone shouldn’t have left her alone. Not yet. His hand gripping the towel turned white.
Kell shifted and ran his hand through his hair. “She’s still sleeping. Had a nightmare last night.”
Of course she did. They probably all did. “How bad?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not bad, I suppose, given what happened. She didn’t wake up from it.”
“That’s probably good.” Kell looked worried, so Grant added, “She’s strong. She got through worse as a kid. She’ll get through this.”
“I know. I just wish she didn’t have to.”
Grant inclined his head to acknowledge that and waited. Kell seemed lost in thought for a moment, but spoke directly. “Your world is a lot like what went down last night.”
Shit. “Look, Stone, I know—“
“No. You don’t.” His jaw tensed. “She loves you.”
Curse the friggin’ joy that statement force-fed. “She—“
“Just shut up and let me talk.”
Grant clamped his mouth closed, not at all interested in hearing it, but hell, he’d endured worse. Maybe.
“She’s loved you since the beginning. Seeing you again has brought all that back, which is why she didn’t let me back in when I showed up. Why this turned into a battle over her.”
Grant knew how this conversation was going to end, and he just wanted to get there. He shoved to his feet. “She doesn’t want me.”
“The hell she doesn’t.” Stone’s laugh held no humor. “Or I wouldn’t have slept on the floor last night.”
Grant halted in his tracks. “She made you sleep on the floor?”
“No, I volunteered.”
He scowled. That wasn’t the same thing. “She doesn’t belong with me.”
“Do you love her?”
“Hell, yeah.” The words came out a growl, a threat, but Kell only nodded. He tilted his head to look at the floor, then back up toward the ceiling, and blew out a massive breath.
“She’ll choose me,” he said. “And I’m not sure she should.”
And with that honest, broken admission, everything fell into place for Grant. The fight was over, and a metric ton of tension he’d been holding since Stone showed up just…released.
“You said it yourself,” he told him. “Last night wasn’t an aberration for me. I run scenarios far worse than that on a weekly basis. She’s not going to want to live with that. She shouldn’t live with that.”
His heart cracked open and bled, but the wound wasn’t fatal. Not sure he could keep it off his face, he walked the few steps to the bedside stand and grabbed his water bottle, using the time to open it, drink, and twist the cap back on to hide his feelings. He’d been so fucking short-sighted. He fit with Zoe’s goals and dreams even less now than he had before. Nothing had changed. Yeah, okay, if he really wanted her, he’d retire from the world he worked in. But then what? Become a city guy, living a white-collar life and mingling with people who worked hard so they could be pampered? He’d hate it, and then Zoe wouldn’t be enough. She’d hate him for that, and he’d hate himself even more.
When he turned back to Stone, the man was slumped against the wall.
“Can you get past what she did? The lies and secrets, and contributing to your sister being a target?”
Kell shook his head. “After all this? I know she’d have died before putting Olivia in real danger. She thought she was making the right choice. Sure, we have to rebuilt trust between us. But I can convince her to share everything with me.” He shrugged. “She already has, really.”
Grant thought he was minimizing the challenge, but that wasn’t what really bothered him. “You don’t want her if her feelings aren’t completely yours,” he guessed, but again Kell shook his head.
“If she chooses me, she’ll stick with it. That’s who she is. But if that’s not what’s right for her, if she won’t be fully happy—“
“I’m not going to chase her away.” Satisfaction had an interesting healing effect when Grant noted the absolute rage that flickered across Kell’s face. “Her choice has to be hers, and you’re right, I do love her, and I’m weak enough to want her in my life if that’s where she wants to be.” He kept all expression off his face, knowing he was balls-out lying now. “But I’m not going to be her choice,” he continued. “Love isn’t absolute. It doesn’t require honoring. She loves you as much as or more than she loves me, and for different reasons. More importantly, she doesn’t want my life, never did. She wants what she can be with you.”
Kell’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Not what I can give her.”
“Hell, no, she can get all that crap on her own.” Both men laughed. “She hid her past because she didn’t want to be ruled by it,” Grant explained. “Not because you couldn’t handle it or because she was ashamed of it or anything. Now that you know the truth, it just means she can be her whole self with you.”
“She can be that with you, too.”
Goddamn the man. Why did he keep pushing? Grant closed his hands into fists. “No, she can’t. Because she’d live with fear, and that would keep all this shit alive in her. She doesn’t have to bury it, but she can still get past it. And not with me.”
Silence rang in the room. Then Kell laughed. “Which one of us do you think she’d kill first if she heard all this?”
So it was over. Grant moved to usher him to the door, but Stone went on his own. He paused with it open but didn’t look back.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Me, too, man. Me, too.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Zoe woke alone and empty. Bereft. Aimless.
It would pass. She only felt that way because the quest was over. Pat was back in jail, and this time there were far too many people to testify against him. He’d never get out of prison. The totems would go into evidence with the FBI and probably never come out. Everyone was safe, so she didn’t have to rush to get on a plane or dig into research or plan out an operation. She could go home and start again.
Soon. There was one thing left to do, and she dreaded it.
She dragged herself out of bed, showered, and dressed before finding the note Kell had left:
Room 412. I’ll be in the café in the lobby when you’re done. Don’t worry. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Time to choose. The fight between the guys had become more of a debate. Both had made their cases—without actually making their cases—and now it was up to her.
Before she made a move Henricksen called and asked her to come to the hospitality suite the FBI was using for its out-of-town agents. She gratefully took the reprieve and headed straight over there.
He handed her a mug of tea and a Danish and had her sit on the sofa.
“Where is everyone?” Ravenous, she took a big bite of flaky pastry, tangy cherry goo, and bitingly sweet frosting.
“Field office. I’m headed over there soon but wanted to talk to you first. You know they might need you in DC when—“
“Yeah, they went over all that last night.” Had spent hours questioning her and explaining her options and obligations. “How are Amelia and Will?”
Henricksen smiled. “Both okay. Amelia is already back with her family and Carling should be released from the hospital this morning. That one’s gonna need therapy.”
“I bet.” Guilt wouldn’t let Zoe laugh. “His injuries?”
“Superficial, physically. I don’t think he’d be happy to hear from you,” he cautioned.
“I know
. What about Rudy and Ozzie?” After they’d found out about Ozzie’s assault, she’d never heard if Rudy was okay.
“Checked on ’em this morning. Rudy was never approached. Ozzie’ll be okay, too.” He cocked his head. “You find out about Olivia?”
That was the first thing Kell had done as soon as he had a cell signal. “She’s coming home tomorrow. Her parents have talked to her every day, and she texted Kell that her eyes are stuck in a permanent roll of annoyance that they thought she needed protection from some lame scandal.” She was able to smile a little, imagining the girl saying that with dramatic demonstration.
She took a breath. “Grant’s team. Will you…” She wanted to know if they’d be going Guantanamo on them, but Henricksen shook his head.
“The local guy would have his head, but Neely’s too valuable to the government. His kind of moral compass is hard to come by. So his involvement is being reported as ancillary.”
Tears pricked her eyes, but she nodded and blinked them back. “Good. I guess that’s it, then?”
“Mostly.” He studied her with his Fed stare. “How are you?”
Her laugh was short and shrill. “Oh, peachy.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, not bad. Pat’s staying in jail, I hope?”
Henricksen nodded. “The parole violations are solid. He’ll be arraigned on the new charges and held without bail until the trial. Carling confirmed his presence in California and is prepared to testify to Thomashunis’s involvement in his involuntary cross-country trip. The rest will take some time, but it will come. You’ll be safe. All of you.”
“What about the totems and key?”
“The key was destroyed. One of Rhomney’s guys. You called him PB? Pretty Boy?”
Zoe looked up sharply at his careful tone. Was PB an agent? Knowing she couldn’t ask or at least wouldn’t get an answer, she nodded.
“He set it on fire. As far as the legend goes, the totems are worthless without the key. And that detail, much to our frustration”—he winked—”made it into the news report about the raid.”
So no one else would ever have a reason to try to obtain them. That was it, then. It was all over. Except for a long-overdue conversation with her parents. The thought of how her mother would react when she saw the news made her wince.
She stood. “Thank you so much, Shaun. Without you, all of this could have been…”
“It wasn’t. That’s what you have to focus on.” He held out a hand, but when Zoe took it they both tugged and landed in a laughing, friendly hug. “You call me any time, for anything. You have my contact info, right? Keep me posted on your life.” He winked. “Wouldn’t mind a wedding invite, should it come to that.”
She smiled. “We’ll see. A wedding isn’t only up to me.”
“Go to it, then.” He patted her on the back and let her out. “Room 412.”
Zoe rolled her eyes but gathered her courage and headed over there. Grant opened the door before she even knocked.
“Morning.” He examined her, head to toe, and she rolled her eyes again as she pushed past him.
“I’m fine.”
“Of course you are.”
She looked at him sideways, not sure if she’d heard a sardonic tone or not. “I am.”
“Good.” He stood in the center of the room, feet braced, arms folded, looking hot and so delicious and everything she’d expected him to grow up to be. She found herself blinking back tears again.
“Are you?”
“Of course.”
He said it so quickly, Zoe knew he didn’t mean physically. She pointed to the bandages around his arm, visible below the hem of his T-shirt sleeve. “I meant that.”
He looked down and lifted his folded arms a little to see the bandage. “Oh. Yeah. Fine. Spike missed the arteries and stuff. Didn’t go too deep.”
“Good.” She slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and tried not to rock on her feet. Her gaze traveled around the room of its own will, until she sighed and forced it back to Grant. His mouth shifted, as if he’d been smiling at her and didn’t want her to see.
“We need to talk,” they said at the same time, then grimaced together.
“Sit down.” Grant indicated the chair next to the window, but Zoe shook her head. Her throat closed up, because they really didn’t need to talk. They both knew all that was going to be said. Sorrow and loss squeezed her heart, burned her dry eyes, and she saw answering torment in Grant’s. She lunged forward and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. A few tears burst and splattered on her cheeks.
“Ah, Zoe.” His hand stroked down her hair, down her back, then came up to cradle the back of her neck. With a subtle press, he moved her back and tilted her head, and his mouth came down on hers.
The kiss rocked her. Filled her heart with love and trust. Made promises, that he would always be there if she needed him, that he understood, that he agreed. And it said goodbye.
The only thing it didn’t do was make her question her decision.
When the kiss ended they held each other for an immeasurable amount of time.
Let go.
She couldn’t. Releasing him meant breaking away from a part of herself she’d just discovered. A strength she didn’t know she had. Gratitude for everything he’d done for her, everything he’d let her be, rendered her immobile.
“Zoe,” Grant finally said, moving his hands to her shoulders. “He’s waiting.”
Her heart cracked. “I know.” She wanted to go to him. As soon as she crossed the threshold, her body, heart, and mind would make the shift. But part of her didn’t want to leave here. It was the part she’d buried and ignored for so many years, awakened by her renewed friendship with Grant. She wanted to embrace that part of her, become whole—who she might have been if she hadn’t left so much behind.
But if she stayed, if she chose Grant, she would be doing it out of fear. Because it would be easier than rediscovering herself as a whole person. It was so tempting to revert to who she used to be—but it wasn’t possible to be that Zoe anymore.
Grant didn’t push her away. He was leaving it to her, somehow understanding that it had to be her move. Finally, she pulled back. Not fully away from him, but enough to see his face. “Thank you, Grant. For everything. I—”
“No.” He didn’t want to hear it, and as much as it hurt to keep it in, Zoe didn’t blame him. There was so much. He’d helped her face the past without getting lost in the horror of it. Let her be what she needed to be, follow the path she’d needed to follow, and supported her, helped her, without pushing her to the background and taking over. But she knew saying any of that would be rubbing salt in the wound.
“Okay, then. I’ll keep in touch. Kind of.” She wouldn’t do anything to threaten her fragile relationship with Kell, but she didn’t want to break fully from Grant. She wanted to know he was okay, even if they weren’t part of each other’s lives. And he understood that, too, nodding.
“Give my love to your mother,” was the last thing she said before she left the room.
She knew he’d know what she really meant.
* * *
Zoe couldn’t go straight to Kell in the café downstairs. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him or wasn’t ready. Everything had kind of clicked as soon as she left Grant’s room. She was already in a new frame of reference, inhabiting her new life.
But when she went back to her own room to pack, her movements slowed with every item she set into her bag. She didn’t doubt her decision, or her choice. But she only had control over herself. She had no idea what Kell meant by “Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.”
She sank onto the bed, not really seeing the shirt she folded on her lap. He had every reason to refuse her. She’d run out on him. Lied to him about the secrets she’d kept for years. Broken a fledgling engagement, put him and his family in danger, then almost got him killed in the woods. Multiple times. Even though he’d chosen to be there, non
e of what they’d just been through was real life. The Zoe Kell had seen over the last few days was not the Zoe he’d proposed to. Nor was she the Zoe he’d be going home with.
Admit it. You’re not just afraid. You’re freaking terrified.
Once she thought the word, it blossomed like a mushroom cloud in a confined space, filling every bit of her, weakening her muscles, telling her she should call her mother, check in, reassure her, make plans to visit—and do it right now, because of course Kell could wait.
Of course she could put off his rejection forever.
Nuclear fear had nothing on the spear of loss that pierced her heart. And that was just worrying that he might say goodbye. Could she survive the reality?
“Only one way to find out, moron.” She pushed to her feet, dropped that last shirt in her bag, zipped it, and set it by the door, next to Kell’s. Solidarity in luggage products. Symbolic.
Right.
Kell was where he said he’d be, leaning over a folded newspaper on a small round table in the lobby café. Two tall paper coffee cups sat in front of him, one emitting a tiny curl of steam. Her fear and pain unfurled and drifted upward, as if drawn by that steam curl.
He glanced up as she approached, and his blue eyes dazzled her the way they had the first day they met. Her lips lifted, and his answering smile went all the way into those awesome eyes.
“Hi.” He stood and leaned to kiss her cheek, one hand curving lightly around her elbow. “You okay?”
“Sure.” They sat, and he nudged the hot coffee toward her.
“They were out of hazelnut, so I did caramel.”
“Thanks.”
He folded the paper, his movements casual and easy, but his tension hummed like electronic equipment in a quiet room. Her pulse skittered. He was no more sure of her than she was of him.
“So,” he said, “how did it go?”
“With Grant?” When he nodded, she caught herself looking down at her coffee and forced her head up. “It went fine. It was sad. Hard.” Honesty forever. Even if it kills you. She caught a flare of jealousy, maybe, behind his eyes, but he didn’t react otherwise.
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