by Ivy Nelson
“Best not to ask too many questions my friend.”
“Where is she? When will she be home?”
“She’s at the hospital being checked out. She’ll be on a plane first thing in the morning.”
Michael felt his legs go weak, and he sank to his knees in the middle of his office.
The next day, Michael stood in front of the big glass window at the small private airport waiting on Adara’s plane to land. He should have gone to Canada. He would already be near her again. There was no way to know what was going to happen next, but he needed to lay eyes on her, touch her, make sure she was OK before they figured anything else out.
A plane touched down and he stepped outside into the crisp air. It took ten minutes to open the plane door and lower the steps. Adara appeared and Michael’s breath caught. She stood next to a man he didn’t recognize. Carrie’s secret contact? The stranger helped Adara down the steps and he fought the urge to run across the tarmac to the plane to greet her. There were too many emotions roiling inside him. Waiting was best. He took a few deep breaths as he watched her approach him.
Even from far away, she looked tired. Deep breaths, wait, he told himself again. It felt like a lifetime before she was standing in front of him. The unknown man stepped off to the side where Peter was waiting. Michael was grateful for the privacy. He opened his arms, and she stepped into them. His whole body sagged with relief as a great weight lifted from his shoulders. What he wasn’t expecting was the anger that enveloped him. That wasn’t something he wanted her to see though, so he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, trying not to tense up again.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t listen,” she said with a shaky voice. Michael didn’t respond, just kissed the top of her head.
Adara pulled back and studied him.
“You’re angry,” she said after a beat.
She wasn’t wrong but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he said gruffly, unable to keep all the emotions out of his voice.
She just nodded and followed him. Back inside the terminal Stephen Miller was waiting for them. “Miss Kent. Welcome home and thank you for your help. You’ve done a great service for your country.”
Michael wanted to deck him. “She nearly got herself fucking killed,” he bit out as he clenched his fists. Beside him, he felt Adara stiffen.
“But she didn’t,” the agent said dismissively. “We’ll need to do a full debrief.”
“I didn’t get any sleep on the plane home. Can we do it tomorrow please? I just want to shower and go to bed.” Adara’s voice was shaky with exhaustion and probably still some traces of fear.
To his credit, the agent agreed to wait. Michael placed his hand on the small of Adara’s back and led her out of the airport. He opened the passenger door of his SUV and waited for her to get settled before he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
“Are you hungry?” he asked as he started the car.
“Starving actually.” She twisted her fingers in her lap and sounded nervous.
They could have this conversation at dinner then. Probably best anyway. He wasn’t sure if he could be alone with her right now. There was no risk of him hurting her out of anger. Instead, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to do the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life if he got her alone. They would wind up in bed instead and that couldn’t happen. Not now. Not anymore.
They drove to a small place he knew would be quiet this time of day and got them a table in the back. The car ride had been silent and now he struggled to find the right place to start.
“You’re angry with me,” she said, repeating her observation from the airport.
“You’re damn right I’m angry with you. I’m glad you’re alive. Dear God, am I glad you’re safe. But how the hell are we supposed to move forward? How do I trust you after this?” His hands flexed into fists as he spoke.
“I don’t know what to say. You were right. I should have listened. But I didn’t. Can we just go back to being crazy about each other and having a good time?”
He looked away. “I don’t think that’s possible yet. Not until we have a serious conversation about this. It’s not just something we can sweep under the rug, Adara. You violated my trust and nearly got yourself executed on camera. How am I supposed to just forget that?”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m not sure. I just want more from you than trying to brush this off as nothing. I’m a cop. I live with danger every day and I have to be able to focus on my job so I don’t get killed. How am I supposed to be able to do that if I have to worry about you running off and doing hair-brained fucking things like having secret meetings with known terrorists?”
“It won’t happen again. I swear, Michael. I think you can agree that circumstances were special here. It’s not like I run around looking for ways to put myself in danger.”
A waiter appeared, and they both ordered burgers, fries, and beer.
“You told me it wasn’t going to happen this time. And you purposely tried to hide what you were doing. That’s not something I can just forget about. Not when your life is on the line. I’m sorry, Adara. I just can’t.”
“So, what is this? Are you breaking up with me?”
“I just think we need to take a step back and evaluate what we want and whether we can do this.”
She stood, a lone tear trailing down her cheek.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Michael. I am. But this is bullshit. I’m going home.”
Guilt stabbed him repeatedly. He was an ass for making her cry so soon after the trauma she had endured.
“I’m sorry, Angel. I just think we need some space while you recover from what happened. I need time to think.”
“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” The tears were falling in a steady stream now. “You can have all the time to think you need because I’m out of here. I’ll take an Uber home.”
The urge to chase her had him standing, but he stopped himself as she walked out the front door. It was better to let her go and talk again when they both had clearer heads. Right now, neither of them was thinking straight. As the front door of the restaurant closed, the knife of guilt and regret twisted in his gut once more. He motioned the waiter over and paid the bill for their drinks. By the time he’d signed the receipt, he figured enough time had passed for her to get a car and be on her way.
He was surprised to find her standing outside the door looking lost.
“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.
“I need a ride. My phone was never recovered so I can’t call an Uber and I don’t have any cash for a cab.”
His expression softened, and he offered her his arm.
“Come on. I’ll drop you off.”
The ride to Adara’s house was painfully silent. A glance at her at a red light told him she was crying. Should he apologize again? Take it all back? That didn’t seem possible. He still didn’t know how to proceed in a relationship with her.
“Let’s have dinner next week and talk.”
“I’ll be busy,” she bit out.
“Come on, Adara. Don’t be like this.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? I was kidnapped, nearly killed, and all you can think about is that I didn’t listen to you? I’m a grown fucking woman.”
He winced at the harsh language. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to talk about this again tonight.
“You’re right. You are a grown woman. A grown woman who was in a committed relationship. A power exchange relationship, no less. And you chose to go behind my back. You chose to go behind the backs of friends who were charged with protecting you. You made it impossible for them to do their jobs. I get it. You wanted to talk to the guy. You were curious. None of that is bad. The part I have a problem with is that you trusted that god damn Homeland agent who clearly does not have your best
interests at heart before you trusted me, or Peter, or Bradley for fuck’s sake.”
Her tears were falling freely again but he continued. It was important to get this out.
“Angel, I’m crazy about you. But I can’t spend my days wondering if you trust me enough. Not when we’re playing with things like power exchange. If I can’t trust you to come to me in a life or death situation, how do I know I’m not going to push you too far because you don’t trust me enough to talk to me about the things we do in the bedroom?”
“I…that’s not the same thing,” she said through sobs.
“No. They aren’t the same thing. But you almost got yourself fucking killed and I’m going to need some time to process that. I care about you. I want to keep seeing you. But right now, I need to figure some things out. Let me take you to dinner next week and we’ll talk.”
They were pulling into her driveway.
“I’ll think about it. I’m too upset to agree to anything right now. Goodnight, Michael.”
“Goodnight, Adara.”
The passenger door slammed, and he fought the urge to go after her as he watched her run to her front door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adara stood in the entry of her house and tried not to collapse into a sobbing heap on the floor. This was not how she expected tonight to go. Comfort is what she’d been after from Michael and instead, he’d ripped her heart out. She had to pull herself together. There was still an election to win. People were counting on her. The media was going to be swarming her house anytime now. It honestly surprised her that they weren’t already camped out at her house.
She needed her phone and purse. There was work to do. Sure, she just wanted to curl up in bed and weep but that wasn’t an option. She leaned against the door and looked out the front window. Michael was just now pulling out of her driveway. Why was he taking so long? He seemed just as upset as she was, but she still didn’t understand why he dumped her.
OK, so he hadn’t actually dumped her, but everyone knew when someone asked for space, it was a precursor to the breakup.
She wandered through her house. It had been several weeks since she’d stayed here. It was going to be strange. Hamilton was still at Michael’s house. She would need to get him home soon so she could feel less alone. Her car was in the driveway. She could go to Michael’s and get him, but she wasn’t sure she could face him again tonight.
It was important for her to get her head on straight before she saw him again. Her stomach made a loud rumbling sound. There had been no dinner at the restaurant, and she was starting to feel it. Rummaging in her cabinets and freezer, she came up with the makings for spaghetti. There was a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of red wine on the counter. The whiskey seemed most appealing. Fifteen minutes later she sat on the living room floor with a bowl of spaghetti and her second glass of whiskey. Halfway through the bowl and a crap TV show, a knock sounded. Setting the bowl on the coffee table next to the whiskey she scrambled for the door.
Bradley and Darci were standing there with kind smiles. But the thing that made her grin was the goofy dog wagging his tail.
“Hamilton!” she exclaimed as she kneeled to hug him.
“I see how it is. No hugs for us?”
Adara grinned up at them. “Sorry. I was just really missing him.”
“Michael called us. He didn’t give us details, but it sounded like you might need friends tonight and he didn’t want you to be alone.” Adara’s heart constricted. Even when he was breaking her heart, he was thoughtful. What was she supposed to make of that? Standing, she embraced Bradley and then Darci. “Come in. You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s long gone. But I got you a new one.” Bradley held up a bag.
“Bless you.”
“We also brought campaign things to work on. Figured you might want to stay busy,” Darci said.
She motioned them into her living room. “I’m having spaghetti and whiskey if you want some.”
Bradley laughed. “Clearly you needed us. I’ll skip the pasta, but I’ll gladly join you for a glass of whiskey.”
The three sat quietly after Adara poured them all drinks.
“So. How much do you want to talk about?” Bradley finally asked.
She twisted the glass in her hands. “I’m honestly not sure. I’m so confused. I almost die and he basically breaks up with me over it. It’s kind of a dick move when you think about it.”
Bradley set his glass on the coffee table and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m kind of in a tricky spot here. If it were still just us, I would ask if you needed me to hate the guy with you or just listen. But he is Darci’s best friend and you’re mine.”
Darci chuckled from her place next to him. “You owe him no loyalty because of me. I have a few questions for him myself. On the surface it does seem like a bit of a dick move.”
Bradley slipped his arm around his wife and kissed her head. “I do understand where he’s coming from. And to hear him tell it, he didn’t break up with you. He just needs some time to think about how to handle things.”
“What’s to think about? I get that I went off the reservation and broke his trust. But I think the circumstances called for it.”
“That’s your opinion. He’s entitled to his feelings about the situation too. The way he sees it, you broke a rule he gave you and as a result you almost died. I tell Darci all the time that I don’t make rules just because I’m her Dom and I can. Every rule, every order I give has a purpose. Sometimes my rules give her more orgasms and sometimes they keep her safe.”
Adara scrunched her nose. She didn’t need to hear about her best friend giving his wife orgasms. Bradley ignored her face and continued. “Doms need their submissive's trust with these things. By you disobeying the order you were given, and breaking the promise you gave him, you told him you don’t trust him, or you don’t think his rules are valid. I’m not saying he isn’t a jackass. He is. But his feelings are valid. I just think he could have waited to talk about them until you were settled a bit from your experience.”
Adara closed her eyes. Everything he was saying made sense. It didn’t make it hurt any less.
“He wants to have dinner next week. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him to fix this.”
“I have no doubt you’ll figure it out. The two of you are good together. Darci tells me you’re the first one he’s shown real interest in so don’t give up on it just because he has shit timing.”
“It feels like he’s the one giving up.” She tossed back the rest of her drink. “Can we talk about something else now? Did you have anything to do with the fact that the press hasn’t swarmed my house yet?”
“I think you can thank Peter for that. The media doesn’t know you’re home yet. They were able to keep it under wraps. I also may have promised a couple of networks a one-on-one interview if they stay away for a few days.”
“That was thoughtful. What’s next on the agenda?”
“We need to have a press conference. Get out in front of the whole, your dad is a terrorist thing.”
“Dead terrorist. I think that’s an important part of the spin.” She shook her head. “This is not the sort of thing I ever expected to need to spin.”
They spent the next hour going over campaign strategy for the next several weeks. It would seem sleazy to some but being kidnapped and nearly executed on camera was going to do great things for her poll numbers. She didn’t plan to use it purposefully, but there was going to be no getting around talking about it once word got out. So, controlling the image of it all was in her best interest.
As they finished the last of their second drink—Adara’s fourth—they said their good nights. Adara promised to be in the office early in the morning. The whiskey might have seemed like a bad choice then, but tonight she just wanted to sleep and forget.
The next day went by without event. Every hour or so she checked her phone hoping to h
ear from Michael, but so far, nothing. First thing in the morning she took care of being debriefed by Homeland Security and the FBI.
Next, she went to a campaign rally and held her first press conference since the kidnapping. It was the first time she stepped in front of news cameras and not felt apprehensive. For the first time her past wasn’t hanging over her. There were no secrets threatening her life or the lives of her friends. It should have been a happy, freeing moment, but it wasn’t. This was a moment she wanted to share with Michael. Why was he denying her that?
As she stepped down from the podium and went back inside the building, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.
Without looking at the screen, she answered.
“You look good on TV.” It was Michael.
“Thank you. It felt good to be there without secrets hanging over me.”
“Can we have dinner tonight?”
“I’m not sure. Can I get back to you?”
“Of course.”
“I have to go.” She pressed end call. Talking to him again stirred up her anger all over again. It was probably best if she went to dinner and heard him out, but her pride wasn’t letting her. It still stung, the way he handled things. She was going to need time to see him the same again.
Her phone lit up with a text message.
I’m sorry. Please have dinner with me.
Her chest tightened. She wanted to just say yes but something was holding her back.
I’ll think about it. I promise. I’m just really angry right now.
His response didn’t take long.
So am I. Just have dinner with me.
Now she had no problem telling him no.
Stop asking. I’ll call you when I’m ready.
She huffed and shoved her phone back into her pocket and went to meet Bradley and Leslie Hanover.
“Adara. Darling. I’m so sorry for everything. I just feel awful about James. I feel like I led him straight to you. I’m so glad you’re safe.” Leslie hugged her as she spoke.