Page 115 of Good Enough

“He’s not doing it for me. He’s doing it for you.”

“I didn’t sleep with him!”

He reached for her hand and held it beneath his on the tabletop. “Relax, I know you didn’t. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not sure how much of his trust I’ve lost or if I can ever gain it back. He’s angry at me for leaving. Can’t say I blame him. I’m angry at myself, too. However, that’s neither here nor there now.”

“So, what happens now?”

“We lock down here until God gives me the all-clear for you to return to your life.”

Her eyes bore into his, searching for something. For the first time with her, he wasn’t sure what. Normally, she was an open book, but this was uncharted territory for him, and he had no clue where she was headed.

“So, I go my way, live my life; you go yours, live your life.” Firmly, she pulled her hand from under his and stood up. “Noted. I’ll do my best to stay out of your way until he gives the all-clear.”

Fuck. So much for trying to be subtle. When did that ever work with her, dumbass?

She began to move with purpose toward the stairs. He slid out from the table, following her and catching her at the foot of the stairs. He grabbed her elbow, spun her around to face him, and leaned her up against the wall.

“Don’t, Kai. Don’t run away or shut down on me.” His grip on her arms gentled but still denied her the ability to continue to run away. “I fucked up, okay? Multiple times. I get it. I’m always so sure of everything, but you come along, and that all gets shot to shit. Now I’m floundering, saying the wrong things, or not saying things I should, doing the exact opposite of what I should be doing. I’m all sorts of fucked up when the last thing I want to do is drive you further away.”

Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were glassy. No tears, but it probably wouldn’t take much for some to fall. He stepped as close to her as he could, pressing his forehead to hers. “Please don’t run again.”

“I didn’t run the first time.”

“No, you didn’t. But you started to just now, and that is not going to happen. I’ll keep chasing you until I catch you because I know you don’t really want to go.”

“What choice do I have? Your team knows how I feel about you, including your boss. I know the rule. The rule hasn’t changed. And I can’t come back into your life for another brief period of time only to have you leave me again.”

“Fuck the rule,” he growled.

I can’t avoid this. I have to tell her. Maybe then she’ll understand.

He stood up straight, dropped his hands from her, and took a step back. “Look, I have to tell you something. It’s not going to be pretty. In fact, it’s going to be fucking ugly. But I don’t know how else to make you understand why I left without a fight.”

He could almost feel the blood draining from his body. The one thing he guarded more than his name. The one thing he’d sworn he’d never talk about, and he was going to tell her.

He sat down hard on the stairs.

44

TWO YEARS EARLIER

Waters

Cracks whipping against human flesh. Screams echoing off of stone walls. Sobs falling like the dripping water from the stones. Pleas begging Waters to shut down his hearing and sight. Then suddenly… silence from the punished.

My fault, my fault, my fault.

He could hear voices in Arabic. Laughter at crude jokes. While he knew enough of Arabic languages to get the gist of what was being said, his brain refused to process the horrors that were about to be performed next.

There it was. A moan so quiet it was barely audible.

No, no, no, no, no, stay quiet, don’t let them know you’re awake, no, please, no, make it stop.

Ripping next, as if something was being torn from top to bottom, a sound louder than any clap of thunder he’d ever heard. More laughter and the sound of a heavy table being dragged across the room. The rattling of keys and the click of shackles being opened and then closed again. More moans, a little louder than before. She was coming to.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

A clunk as her body hit the table. The harsh voices, the taunts to the woman who lay barely conscious on the table, more ripping, and an agonizing yelp of pain, the laughter and obvious joy of what was to come.