“You take your time and get well,” she said. “Call me when you need me. And when you head back out on the road, I want you to be careful, okay?”
She was reaching the limit of what she could bear around him. He could feel her aching to get away already, the nearness of him resurfacing all of her demons that she’d spent so many years trying to bury.
“Okay,” he said, offering her a smile. But he found himself wishing her goodbye again, knowing she would be gone for a long time, and wishing some peace for her in her endless journey to fill the empty spaces in her mind. Wishing he could help her.
“Okay,” she repeated, and the awkwardness between them returned.She rose to her feet, her hands wringing again, her eyes flitting about. For a moment, she hesitated. Then she stepped toward him, stopped halfway, and reconsidered.
“Take care of yourself, baby bear,” she said again. Then she turned around and left the room.
Winter stared at the door long after she stepped out and disappeared. Then his breath released, and he realized his entire body was trembling.
Suddenly, the new aloneness in his room felt overwhelming. He wanted to swing his legs over the side of the bed and go running after her, if only for a bit of company. He felt the loneliness crowd around him, the weight of that ever-present depression pushing against the corners of his mind.
And then, in the middle of that crush—
He saw Claire’s head peek over the side of the open door.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to, at the look on his face. All she did was walk in, sit down on the bed, and take his hand in hers. She squeezed it, and he felt himself relax at the warmth of her palms.
How did she always know when he needed her?
“How are you feeling?” she asked him quietly, the question different this time than when she’d asked just a little while ago.
Winter couldn’t answer. All he could do was look down, holding his breath, still counting seconds in his head.
He felt Claire wrap her arms around him, felt himself lean into her embrace in exhaustion.
“Go easy on yourself,” she murmured. “It’s okay to not be okay.”
He nodded against her. And then, finally, he let himself cry.
37
Loyalty to a Secret
The sun had begun its slow descent when Sydney arrived back at the hospital.
Sauda sat in the car with her. She had been in Sydney’s hospital room—a different hospital than Winter’s, as a precaution—as they tended to her kaleidoscope of wounds, had remained silent through the doctor’s reports under the guise that she was an Elite Securities representative.
When Sydney could breathe well enough again without oxygen therapy, they’d taken a drive together, and there in the safety of the car, Sydney had debriefed her on the rest of the mission.
Now Sauda pulled their car to a stop at the rear of the building, then leaned back in her seat. Sydney looked straight ahead, tensing in the awkward silence between the two.
“You don’t need me to stay any longer?” she asked Sauda after she couldn’t bear the pause anymore.
Sauda shook her head. “I think you’ve done enough for one mission,” she replied with a raised eyebrow.
Sydney didn’t look at her. She was too afraid.
“You said it with such a straight face,” Sauda began. “That you understood our orders. And then you went off and deliberately disobeyed every single one.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not convinced that you are.” Sauda gave her a stern, sidelong glare. “You realize Niall and I don’t make these calls lightly, right? This all could have gone so much worse.”
“But it didn’t,” Sydney muttered, her voice so small and sullen that she could barely hear it herself.
Sauda frowned at her. “No, it didn’t,” she replied. Then she sighed. “I suppose it’s our fault.”
