She really thinks I’ll leave her. “It doesn’t have to. Where’s home?”
“Just outside of Boston. A little town called Quincy.”
I stop with a piece of toast halfway to my mouth. “You’re joking.”
“Why would I joke about something like that? I’ve worked at St. Jude’s Research Hospital for the past five years. They let me take a sabbatical to work with Doctors Without Borders.” Lifting the mug of coffee to her lips, she takes a tentative sip, and the jolt of caffeine lifts a little of the dark shroud hanging over us. “Oh, I’ve missed this. The only coffee we could make in the camp—before—was instant. It was like flavored water.”
“I live in Boston.” The admission slips out before I can stop it, and Joey sputters, coffee dribbling down her chin as she frantically grabs for her napkin. “Second Sight is in the South End. I have an apartment in Charleston.”
“We…we could have run into one another on the T.”
I brush my fingers over hers. “If I’d known…I would have found you years ago. Joey…we could have—”
She pushes her plate away, a look on her face I can’t read. Her fingers curl over her tunic, right below her neck, and she scoots back a few inches. “When…Faruk told me why he’d taken me…that he wanted me to cure his son…I knew. I knew I’d die there.” Her voice cracks, and she holds up her hand when I try to reach for her. “He wanted me to create this drug cocktail I’d written a paper about when I was in my final year of residency. I theorized that a specific course of treatment might be able to cure the disease his son has—thalassemia. It’s a blood disorder.”
Wobbling to her feet, she limps over to the window and opens the drapes a crack, as if she’s desperate to see the sun.
“I told him I couldn’t. That his son needed a bone marrow transplant.” Her fingers flutter over the bruise on her cheek. “That was the first time he hit me.”
“Joey—”
She shakes her head. “Please, let me finish.” I press my lips together, waiting, and she sighs. “We spent at least eighteen hours trapped in a van. Dawn until dark the first day, then…a few days after they took Ivy and Mia away, there was another full day. I couldn’t see where we were going. Couldn’t speak or even move.”
A full body shudder shakes her thin frame, and she presses her fist against her heart. “When we crossed the border into Afghanistan, they forced me into this…metal box. It was barely big enough to lie down in, and I couldn’t breathe. I passed out, thank God. I think it would have broken me.”
I can’t sit still any longer. Not while every word screams pain. Unsure if she’ll let me hold her or comfort her, I lean against the opposite side of the window, offering her anything I can—all that I am—as she hugs herself tightly.
“Faruk planned everything. These clothes?” Joey tugs at the bottom of her tunic. “They’re my size. The slippers? Fit perfectly. He stole me away in the middle of the night, along with Ivy and Mia—just because they were young and pretty and in the wrong place at the wrong time—killed the rest of my team, and told me one of two things would happen. Either I’d cure his son and I’d have some semblance of a life—inside the compound walls, or I’d fail, and he’d kill me.”
Her fear bleeds through every word, every movement. She clenches her bandaged hand, trying desperately to dig her nails into her skin through the gauze. But as I take a step closer, she forces her fingers to uncurl.
“All I wanted,” she whispers, “when I was alone at night—in that basement or in the little room Faruk locked me in—was to see you again. Just once. To get a chance to tell you…” Her watery gaze meets mine, and my heart shatters. “You were the best part of my life. And I threw it all away.”
Before I can reach her, she turns on her heel and limps off into the bedroom. The bathroom door shuts with a bang, and I start after her, until the radio clicks on, and Trevor’s voice booms through the air.
“Tango to Foxtrot. I’m five minutes out. Don’t shoot me.”
Shit.
I can’t go after her. Not when Trev’s almost here. But as soon as I confirm he wasn’t followed and we’re still safe, I have to tell her how I feel. All of it. Whatever happens afterwards, she deserves to know.
13
Ford
The alarm beeps as Trevor pulls a scooter into the small garage, and I disable the tripwire and unlock the door. He’s favoring his left leg a bit as he limps up the two steps into the flat.
“What the hell happened?” I ask as I secure the door behind him.
“I couldn’t find him.” Trevor shuffles over to the couch, picks up Joey’s half-eaten plate of eggs and toast, and raises a brow.
“Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll make her another when she’s hungry.” That is if she ever lets me cook for her again after running away from me. And fuck me. I’m doing the same damn thing I did twenty years ago. Ignoring this thing between us because I’m too scared to talk to her.
Returning my focus to Trevor, I shake my head. “What do you mean you ‘couldn’t find him’? You went to the backup rendezvous point?”
“No, I went to Disneyland.” He shoots me a look like I’m the dumbest shit on the planet, then shoves a huge bite of eggy toast into his mouth. I don’t even think he chewed the damn thing. “Faruk’s men showed up after a couple of hours. I killed two of them, got the shit beat out of me, and took off. I managed to get Nomar on comms for about thirty seconds, and he said he was on the move. Gave the codeword, so at least at 4:00 a.m., he was safe.”
“So what do we do now?” With a frown, I check my watch. We’re supposed to be out of here in a couple of hours, and I’m not ready for this private time with Joey to end. Once we’re back on the transport plane…I’m terrified I’ll lose her all over again.
