“Let’s just try being friends together first, okay?” Kate continued, her brown eyes cast down so I couldn’t read the emotions lingering there. “We don’t have to have all the answers now. You’re right; we just need to get through this.”
I hadn’t had friends in nearly four years. Hadn’t had anyone who cared about me. And Kate was so far from just anyone. She had always been the best part of my life, and I’d lived in the dark for so long that it was impossible to deny how badly I just wanted a piece of normal.
“Okay, deal.”
Kate
In the cold light of day, all of the changes in Matt became more evident. He looked both larger and smaller than I remembered, as though the weight of all he’d survived had shrunk him and stolen the parts of him that had always seemed larger-than-life, even as his physical appearance had grown.
There were glimmers of Matt, moments that felt so familiar I ached inside, but in a lot of ways he still felt like a stranger. We’d been engaged until I’d found out that he died, and then I’d been in this weird limbo of feeling like a widow at eighteen without the official title. And now I was just strangely single again, even though my “fiancé” stood in front of me.
Friends seemed like a safe place to start.
I released his hand, the feel of his palm against mine tugging at my heart, and went back to making coffee, needing something to distract me.
“Are you going to go check the safe-deposit box?” he asked, switching from heartbreak to business with an ease I envied.
“Yeah, I’ll grab the papers and bring them back here. I should probably get a safe or something. Or a better hiding place, at least.” I hesitated. “I thought about it last night, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to get the police involved.”
I wasn’t eager to advertise the fact that I’d had classified documents in my possession, which I should never have had in the first place—that would likely get me in some deep shit at work. Not to mention, protecting Matt’s privacy and safety seemed paramount right now. Besides, a police report would only get my name in the press and the fewer people who knew I was tied to this investigation, the better.
And still—someone had sent this guy after me. Someone knew I had the documents. Until now, I’d thought that the only person who knew about them was whoever sent them to me. But it didn’t make sense that they would give them to me and then hire someone to steal them back.
Matt nodded. “I agree. Considering the information in those papers—and the amount of influence our fathers wield in this town—I’m not sure involving the police would really be in our best interest.”
“So what’s next?”
He ran his hand through his hair again and something fluttered in my chest. “I don’t know. I want to see what’s in those files. I’ll make a few calls to some contacts in Afghanistan, guys who knew me after I ‘died’, guys who are tapped into the tribal networks. Then we figure out what play we need to make to keep you safe.”
“And you?” I poured coffee in a mug for him and set it on the countertop.
“I can take care of myself.”
Maybe he could; he’d been keeping himself physically alive all of these years. But the rest of it? He looked dead on his feet, and I remembered his mention of the nightmares that had plagued him. When was the last time he’d gotten a decent night of sleep?
I didn’t know a lot about the military, but I lived in D.C., and military issues were frequently at the forefront here. It was pretty clear that he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, which wasn’t surprising given all he’d been through. He hadn’t woken me up, but I had woken up before him, and I’d stood in the doorway and seen his body jerk and twist, had been one step away from waking him when he’d jolted awake.
I set my mug down, walking toward him, figuring this was the first step to becoming friends. I couldn’t chase away his demons or slay the dragon, but I could give him this.
I stepped into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his chest. The familiar scent hit me first, and then the sensation of holding Matt again.
Maybe it wasn’t just for him; maybe it was a little for me, too.
I missed having this connection with someone, craved this kind of intimacy. It wasn’t even about sex or romance; it was just the need to be close to another person, to not feel like I was adrift without anyone to hold on to. When I’d thought I’d lost him, I’d closed myself off to everyone in my life, putting a wall up around my heart, my emotions, my body.
It felt good to let the wall down.
A minute passed as I just held him, my eyes closed, listening to the beat of his heart, a lump forming in my throat at the weight of him, clinging to the parts I held as though he were sand slipping through my fingers. And then Matt shifted, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, his hand cupping the back of my head, fingers sliding through my hair, caressing me. His arms wrapped around me—hard—holding me to him like he never wanted to let me go, and something clicked inside me as he broke the lock I kept around my heart.
I hit the bank, my heart racing as I emptied out the safe-deposit box, stuffing the papers into my messenger bag, my mind reviewing the plan over and over again. I needed to make more copies. Needed to figure out more hiding places. I needed to find a way to try to get in touch with whoever was sending me this stuff in the first place. They held all of the cards, and I hated getting pieces doled out to me on their schedule. I wanted it all, and I needed it now.
Everything had changed after last night. I was done playing around, done with these bullshit, small-time attempts to take my father down. He and James Ryan needed to pay for what they’d done; I just needed the proof to make it happen.
I left the bank, the warm summer day hitting me as I headed toward the Metro. My gaze darted around, searching for Matt in the crowd. He’d said it was too dangerous for us to be seen together, but he also hadn’t liked the idea of me going by myself. Him shadowing me had been the easiest compromise. That I couldn’t spot him in the crowd was a testament to how good he was at his job. I didn’t know what exactly he’d done in the military, but I figured the Special Forces title said it all. Not to mention the way he’d changed, how he’d hardened into something I barely recognized anymore.
I pushed through the crowds exiting one of the metro stations, minutes away from my apartment. I glanced over my shoulder, my feet eating up the pavement. After last night, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel safe anymore, figured it would be a long time before I could walk down the street without a chill creeping down my spine.
Was I right last night—had someone been following me? Was it Matt? The guy who broke into my apartment? Or did I have yet another person after me? Was my name on some hit list somewhere with an amount next to it?
Someone bumped into me, a sharp pain hitting my left side. I doubled over, wrapping my arms protectively around my torso.
What the hell?
I looked down at my hands, the pain in my side growing worse. I froze, staring at the blood coating my fingers.
My blood.
I touched my side again, more blood seeping, covering my skin.
Oh my god.
I’d been stabbed.
Oh my god.
My legs trembled, a wave of dizziness hitting me as the warm July sun beat down on me. My vision tunneled, my mind racing.
The papers.
Panic filled me as I fumbled with my bag, wincing at the pain in my body. I’d never been knifed before, but fuck, it hurt.
I reached for the papers I’d retrieved from the safe-deposit box and my fingers came up short.
Fuck.
My gaze darted around the crowd, searching for Matt, for my assailant, for something, anything, the colors around me starting to blur, the white noise in my ears growing louder. Black spots filled my vision, my legs giving way beneath me. Just before I hit the pavement, I heard my name called out—Kate—and I thought I saw a glimpse of Matt’s face, terror in his eyes, but then it was gone and I didn’t see anything at all.