“What about you checking in with your superiors? Won’t you be considered AWOL?”
“That’s the least of my worries right now. There is an unknown threat against you and I’m not leaving you until I know that it’s neutralized. I’m still uncertain if Markam, your other agent, is involved or dead. In fact, I don’t trust anyone at all, except you and my family.”
“What? There must be some mistake. Why would anyone want to kill me?”
“I don’t know. This could be someone with pull and could lead right back to Washington. You must have pissed someone off.”
She ripped off the top of her burka, her face moist, her blonde hair in damp clumps against her sweaty neck. “I’m a lame-duck senator. I’m almost at the end of my term—my husband…late husband’s term. I will admit that I’ve been pretty fearless because there’s little fear of consequences.”
“You’re not staying in politics?”
“No. I’m…it’s not for me. I did this for Brad.” Piper closed her eyes, the reality of what he had said sweeping through her with a decimating force, shaking so badly she almost felt faint, definitely sick. She drew up her legs and locked her arms around them as she pressed her face into her knees. “Oh, God,” she whispered, her voice muffled against the burka. “I almost got you killed. And the people at the base.”
The awfulness of what had happened, what she might have unwittingly caused, unfolded in her mind—grim, wrenching. On top of that, Ty might be in more danger. She didn’t know how or why, but she trusted Dex. Dex, this amazing, wounded warrior, was now risking his life for her.
She was cold, even as the sweat ran down her back in the stifling heat, dreading donning the burka again, a garment she was beginning to actively hate with a passion―a reactive kind of rage—and, worst of all, a devastating sense of betrayal filling her.
If Ty died…if Dex gave up his life for hers… She didn’t think she could bear it. The fresh grief overwhelmed her when she thought about the work she had been doing for Brad. How much she missed him. How big of a hole his death had left in her life. It all got mixed up with her emotions for her brother and these new, as-yet-uncategorized, strange, warm feelings for Lieutenant Dexter Kaczewski.
A ragged sob tore loose, the pain from all the collective eighteen months and the last few hours colliding into a wrenching, devastating, all-consuming agony. The numbness she’d built over the months, painstakingly every day, broke beneath the pressure, and grief, sharp and rending, overwhelmed her.
“Oh, damn, Piper…don’t. For Christ’s sake.” There was the sound of movement, then the warmth of Dex’s hand around her wrist, and Piper locked her jaw, an awful pressure expanding in her chest.
He tugged at her hand and she dropped them from her face. “No, this isn’t on you! This is on whoever is trying to kill you. I’m not leaving your side until I know you’re safe and the person responsible is either captured or, preferably, killed.”
She met his gaze and he stared at her, then closed his eyes and gathered her up in a tight, enveloping embrace, cradling her head against his shoulder. “It’s going to be all right,” he murmured. She sagged helplessly as he gathered her closer with his good arm and stroked her back, his hand cupped around the back of her neck.
His warmth finally broke through, and Piper huddled against him, pressing her face along his jaw, feeling as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her breath catching on a sob, she wound her arms around his neck, despair slicing through her as she finally let go of the shock that had paralyzed her. “Dex…”
She hung on to him, the port in the perfect storm of her emotions. He tightened his hold and rocked her as desolate sobs shuddered through her body, one desperate emotion after another ripping at her. Bottled up for long months, it all came pouring out—how Brad and she had been driving home from a fundraiser. She had been seven months pregnant and he would joke that he had only two more months to go before he could hold the child that was doing cartwheels in her tummy. How they’d been forced off the road and had tumbled down an embankment on the GW Parkway. How, while she was trapped, she had lost him, had seen the light go out of his eyes. And then there was the rush of amniotic fluid, the loss of her baby cramping deep inside her.
He stroked her hair back and framed her face with his big hands. “Ty said you’ve lost a lot recently. I’m sorry for that. I truly am,” he whispered roughly, an agony of feeling in his softly spoken words. “But I need you to pull yourself together now because we have to get out of this so that whoever caused this can pay. Live for that. Can you do that, Piper? I need you to find the unbreakable in you.”
Damn him for being so understanding and for asking her for courage and strength when she was running on empty right now.
The sound of his voice and his long, soothing caresses brought her back from the depths of desperation, and she was finally able to ease her hold on him.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Piper shifted in his hold. He didn’t say anything, just continued to rub her back.
She sniffed and brushed at her tears. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly, his own thumb swiping at her tears, and she got this rush of emotion, so strong for this man, for his compassion and his caring. “Are you with me?”
“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his jaw. She didn’t mean to linger, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
He let out a controlled breath when she finally moved away. “What now?”
“That’s the stuff,” he said with a brief smile. He pointed off into the distance. “Change of plans. There’s a family I know in a village not far from here. We stop there and rest, fix my wound, wait until nightfall. It’s almost dawn.” He rubbed at his temple and she met his eyes. They looked a bit unfocused. He was hurting. It was clear in the pinched quality of his handsome face. He looked worse for wear.
She got immediately alarmed. “Dex, maybe—”
“I’m fine. It’s just so damn hot.”
She nodded. Reaching down, she donned the hated burka and settled it in place. He rose slowly, painfully clutching his side. Then he doubled over and lost whatever little he had in his stomach. She immediately pulled the pack off his shoulder and pulled out a bottle of water. He leaned heavily against the rock, breathing hard. When he straightened, he took the bottle, rinsed his mouth and drank heavily, draining the bottle. He went to take the pack back, but she pushed his hand away.
He gave her a look that made her tremble, it was so complimentary.
They started walking, but after about an hour Dex stumbled, then righted himself quickly. But a few more steps and he stumbled again, then he went to his knees. She’d been trudging along behind him, thoroughly drenched beneath the burka, but quickly covered the few feet separating him from her. She reached him barely in time as he started to collapse. His eyes completely glazed over as she caught him against her, his weight bearing her to the ground.
“Dex?” she said, and he didn’t respond. “Dex!” she said, her voice strident.
Then she saw his bloody shirt and bit her lip, panic slicing her insides. But before she spiraled out of control, she thought of his calm voice. Are you with me?