Leo stiffens, gives the tablet screen in front of him a quick gaze, then turns to me. “You’re going home, Lisette. With your son. We’reallgoing home when this is done.”
“You do not know that.” My hands shake as I find the black notebook and pen secured with an elastic band. “You were in the CIA, yes?” At his nod, I swallow the lump in my throat. “How many times did you have something go horribly wrong?”
“I worked alone back then.”
“You are avoiding the question. How many times?” In truth, I do not want to know the answer. But I need Leo to understand why this is so important to me.
The right side of his mouth twists into a scowl. “Enough. Write your letters. If the worst happens, one of us will make sure they get where they need to go.”
“Thank you.”
I drag another one of the embroidered pillows over next to the light Griff set up on a tripod by the kitchen.
Will I ever do something as simple as write a letter again? Raziq plans to kill me. Of that, I am certain. I can only hope he lets me live long enough to see Mateen. To hug my son and tell him how much he is loved. And how very sorry I am that I could not protect him.
Noele will blame herself. Maman and Papa will mourn me. They will try to find Mateen, but they will fail as they failed to find me all those years ago. This country is a black hole for all but the richest men. Without a miracle, my son will never see France again.
An hour—and more than a dozen tear-stained pages later—I close the notebook and secure it with the elastic band before I approach Leo. “Promise me you will not let Nomar see these.”
“Lisette—”
“Promise me.” A fresh wave of tears threatens. “If we fight again, and I…die…he will never forgive himself.” I stare down at my feet. At the reddish-brown flats with silver beading around the toes. “I loved him for three years. If I had a future, maybe I would love him again one day, but—”
“One day? Maybe? Bullshit. If you think you’re not in love with him, you’re lying to yourself.”
“I do not know how to love a man who sold women. If he had doneanythingelse, I could understand. But not that.”
Leo shakes his head. “He’s going to hate me for this, but fuck it. There are no ‘good guys’ in this business, Lisette. We all live in shades of gray. We lie, we steal, we kill. And sometimes, we make decisions that hurt a few people so we can save a hell of a lot more. Nomar didn’t sell those women. The guy he worked for did. And when he couldn’t stand it anymore, he faked his death and became the Viper.”
I straighten my shoulders. Leo has a look about him that should scare me, but this may be the last chance I have to stand up for myself, and I will not back down. “You say that like it makes a difference. I do not care what he called himself.”
Getting to his feet, Leo stares down at me. “The Viper freed every single one of the women Shapur Khan sold. And hundreds more. Raziq may own Kabul, but Nomar is the most feared man in all of Afghanistan. He’s atoned for his sins, Lisette. Four, five times over. If not more.”
“All…of them?” I ask. “Really?”
“Yes. He’s been single-handedly dismantling the flesh trade in Afghanistan for two years now. He’s a fucking legend.” Leo shakes his head with a huff. “He did it all for you.”
The horror of what I have done—how I have treated this man who has only ever cared for me—drives me to my knees. Leo grabs my arm and steadies me as he helps me up. “He tried to explain…” I whisper. “And I told him to leave. What if he cannot forgive me?”
“He loves you,” Leo says. “And you haven’t done anything you can’t take back. Not yet. Talk to him. And for fuck’s sake, tell him how you feel before the meet.”
The words he did not say hang between us as Leo returns to his chair and picks up his rifle.
“Because after, it might be too late.”
* * *
Nomar
I’m about to crack a molar. The headache bands around my skull, made worse by the knit cap covering my hair.
Half hidden around a corner, Austin hunches his shoulders. The man’s six-foot-four, almost a foot taller than the average man in this country. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his light brown hair and pale skin. At least I blend in.
“Are you sure this guy’s not blowing you off?” he asks. “We’ve been out here for an hour.”
“He’ll be here.” I put my back to the wall of the old building and scan our surroundings. Just a local getting some fresh air. In the middle of the fucking night.
No cars. The few street lights still standing are dark. The moon casts eerie shadows from abandoned houses and a burned-out truck a few meters away. It’s quiet, only the occasional barking dog breaking the silence. “You didn’t have to come.”
