“When I rescued Austin…the night I…”
“The night you shot Gil. I don’t blame you. Pretty sure that’s number five. So only nine-hundred-ninety-five to go.” I’m so tired of him constantly apologizing for something that can’t be changed. Like he’s been sentenced to atone for his mistakes for the rest of his life. “Go on.”
Trevor’s staring into the clouds, lost in his memories, but his back is so stiff, he’s practically vibrating. “The abandoned office building where I found Austin? It was across the street from a half-finished construction project. The sign on the fence was broken, half of it missing, but the first half read ‘Sensacíon de.’“
“Luis knew about…Austin? About Gil?” I press my hand to my heart. “And he was trying to give us something we could use to get him out of there.”
Nodding, Trevor leans forward, steepling his fingers. “Maybe. Dani, you can’t publish this story. Not yet.”
“Why not? My editor isn’t going to be happy with me if I can’t produce a story to back up the expense of sending me—us—to Venezuela. He’s not a patient man.”
His dark eyes hold mine. “Just give me a few days. Let me see if my CIA contacts see the same clues in Luis’s words as I do.”
“I can put an embargo on the story. Lincoln won’t be happy, but he’ll honor it. He has to.”
“Do it. Otherwise, I’m worried Farías will hide Luis Rojas so deep, no one will ever be able to find him.”
Disbelief mixes with gratitude and what I think is love as I realize what he’s saying. “You…you’re going to get him out.”
“Not me.” Trevor shakes his head, reaches across the table, and waits for me to put my hand in his. “I don’t ever want to set foot in Venezuela again.”
Chapter Fifteen
Trevor
By the timeour last flight lands in Boston, it’s well after 2:00 a.m. My body aches with every step. At my side, Dani stumbles as we get off my apartment building’s elevator and crashes into me. “Whoa, baby. You okay?”
“I feel like I’ve been awake for a week,” she says, but when she meets my gaze, it’s not exhaustion I see in her eyes. It’s need.
We both slept over half the trip from Belize, waking only when the First Class flight attendant offered us hot towels in preparation for landing. Having her curled against me felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like she’d always been there and always would be.
I open the door, flip on the light, and invite her into my private space. I don’t bring anyone here. Not even Ford or Austin.
“How long have you lived here?” Dani asks as she runs her fingers over the spines on my bookcase.
“Eighteen months.” I drop our bags at the foot of the bed and kick off my shoes before arranging them precisely in their assigned spot in my closet. I need a shower. Badly.
Dani leans against my bedroom door and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Haloed in the light from the living room, she looks like an angel. “Is there anything ofyouhere?” Scanning the room, her gaze lands on my dresser. On the only items I care about in this whole damn place.
“Oh. There you are.” Dani lifts the center photo and cradles it in her hands. In the picture, she and I stand on either side of Austin at his graduation from the Air Force Academy. “I have this same picture.”
She takes the sleeve of her jacket and cleans a smudge from the glass before returning it to its spot between a picture of everyone who gathered at Dax’s wedding last month, and the last photo I took with my dad before he died. We’re fly fishing—or trying to—and we look like we’re on top of the world. For all I know, we were, but though I look at that picture every damn day, my actual memories of him? They’ve faded so much, I can’t even remember his voice.
“You need to get a life, Trevor.” Though she’s smiling, Dani’s eyes are filled with pain, and she slides her arms around me and settles with her cheek against my chest. “Or at least…start living the one that’s right in front of you.”
The silence grows between us, so big and heavy it’s hard to breathe. “I need a shower.”
“Oh, God. So do I.” Dani tips her head back to look up at me, and her cheeks tinge bright red. “We could, um…?”
I’m simultaneously hard as a rock and terrified. Dani’s starred in more than one of my dreams over the years, but the reality of having her all to myself, all night… “Yes. Hell, yes.”
“I just need to get my toiletry kit,” she says as I make a beeline for the bathroom. “I won’t feel…like me if I don’t have my toothbrush.” Her nervous laugh reassures me. At least I’m not the only one scared as fuck about this.
I strip out of my t-shirt and pull off my socks, dumping them in the hamper. Dani knocks timidly, then slips into the room wearing only the tank from last night and her panties. “Do you have…I mean of course you do. Can I borrow some toothpaste? Err. Have some toothpaste? I’m not planning to give it back.”
She’s so beautiful when she’s nervous. Or confident. Or anything in between. “Left drawer.”
Side-by-side, we lean against the sink and brush our teeth, like we’ve done this every night for years. When we’ve finished, I open the shower door and turn on the water.
