Susan Mallery - Surrender in Silk

She’d learned her lesson. She would never risk that much again.

“By the end of the first week of class, I knew you were special,” he said. “You had so much potential. That’s why I rode you so hard. And you didn’t let me down. But as graduation got closer, I wasn’t so sure. You would be a damn fine agent. But at what price? We all pay it. There’s no getting away from it. The danger, the life-style, it requires everything. When the assignment is over and we go home, there’s nothing left inside. When the war is over, the warrior is simply unnecessary.”

“But is the war ever over?”

“It is for you,” he said. “You chose to walk away. What are you going to do?”

He had her there. She’d quit, but she didn’t have a plan for her life.

“I don’t know. There are so many options. Sometimes I’m immobilized by my choices.”

“Your price is higher because you’re a woman,” he said.

She swore loudly.

He turned his head toward her. “You know it’s true, Jamie. You’re what, thirty?”

She nodded.

“Can you honestly tell me you’ve never regretted not having a child?”

“It’s not too late,” she reminded him. “I’ve got lots of childbearing years left. What about you? Don’t you regret never having a family?”

He faced front. “Sometimes. The difference is you still believe it’s possible, and I know it never was. At least not for me. Therefore, you’ve lost more.”

His logic made sense in a twisted sort of way. “You continue to surprise me, Zach. Just when I think you’re an insensitive clod, you go and say something insightful.”

“Hey, I’m full of surprises.”

He was. This conversation was a surprise. She supposed it was the night that allowed them to talk so freely. Over the years, shadows had become their home. Darkness a friend. Something about the light made them feel exposed. Here the shadows made it safe.

“Surprise me again,” she said. “Tell me when you’re going to get out.”

He stood up and walked to the edge of the porch. It was only three feet away, but she felt as if he’d moved to another country. Their connection severed instantly, and the cold seeped into her bones.

He pulled the quilt over his shoulders and braced his hands on the railing. “I won’t be. This is all I know.”

She dropped her head to her knees. The hell of it was, he was telling the truth. He didn’t know any other world. Her heart ached for him.

“I’m not sure you have a choice,” she said. “How many more times can you go through what you just endured? How many more times can you face death and walk away?”

“I can’t answer that. Maybe death is the only way out.”

“Don’t say that. Of course there’s another way.”

“When you find it, let me know.”

She glared at his back. “I hate it when you’re cynical. I refuse to believe this is all there is. We are intelligent creatures. We make choices. If we choose to let go of the past, then the future opens up to us.”

“Keep saying it long enough and you’ll start to believe it.”

She stood up and crossed the porch. “There has to be more.”

“Why?”

“Because-” She bit her lower lip. She didn’t have an answer.

He shook his head. “Just because you want it to be true, doesn’t make it so. There doesn’t have to be more. There doesn’t have to be anything. Sometimes this is all there is.”

“Other people have lives. Normal lives. I’ve seen them. They feel things and survive being ordinary. Are you saying that’s not available to us?”

“Those ordinary people you so admire couldn’t do what we do.”

She leaned against the railing. “Probably not.”

“Have you considered that there might be two different kinds of people? Those of us who live on the fringes, and everyone else? We aren’t the same for a reason. We can’t pretend to be what we’re not.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

He shrugged. “Whatever gets you through the night.”

She turned away from the forest beyond them and stared back at the house. Zach couldn’t be right. There were always choices. She’d chosen to enter the agency and she’d chosen to walk away. Two distinct choices that would affect her in radically different ways. Surely that changed everything. She was determined to get in touch with parts of herself she’d ignored, to find some kind of balance. Of course it wasn’t going to be easy. Change never was. But it would be worth it in the end.

“I wonder how many people stay in because it’s easier than getting out,” she said. “After all, leaving means facing the demons.”

“There are no demons.”

“Aren’t there? What about the ghosts of the dead? What about the ugly memories, the pain, the suffering? Aren’t those demons?”

“They only exist if you believe in them. That’s what gives them power.”

She wished that were true. She knew it wasn’t. “How do you keep them quiet?”

“I don’t listen to them. You feel too much, Jamie.”

“And you don’t feel enough.”

She rubbed her arms and pulled the blanket closer. Was this why Zach stayed in? Because he couldn’t face the demons of the past? Not feeling. That would do it. That would keep the memories at bay. But at what cost? How much of himself was tied up in keeping that door firmly closed?

“Everyone has demons,” she said. “Our work feeds them and helps them grow.”

He didn’t answer.

She glanced at him. He’d straightened and leaned against the post by the stairs. He was stronger than he’d been just a few days ago. Soon he would make the run to the bottom of the driveway, and she would leave. To go where? That empty apartment that only served to emphasize her aloneness? Why wasn’t there a “normal” school where she could train to be ordinary? And, dammit, why wasn’t Zach willing to help her?

“What are you hiding from?” she asked.

He turned toward her. Even in the darkness, she felt the force of his glare. She had to consciously keep herself from flinching.

He turned on his heel and walked inside.

Jamie sucked in a breath. Obviously that question had struck close to home. Maybe she should ask it of herself. What was she hiding from?

Life, maybe? The past, or was it the future? Neither, she decided. She wasn’t hiding. She was doing her best to step into the sunlight.

But could she find a place to belong? Could she figure out what she wanted most of all?

A small animal rustled in the darkness. The cold stung her skin. She could feel her heart pounding as if she’d just run five miles. Realization dawned and with it a unique, intense pain.

She reached up and touched her cheek. Stunned, she brought her fingers to her lips and felt the moisture there. She was crying.

And then she knew. The truth was so obvious, she wondered why it had taken this long for her to figure it out. She hadn’t rescued Zach because she owed him and she hadn’t come to the cabin to have him help her find her way back. She’d come here because after seven years, she’d never been able to forget him. She’d never let go. She’d come here because she still loved him.

She’d never stopped loving him.

Zach jogged around the bend in the driveway and headed for the house. At the last minute, he made a sharp right and moved into the forest. For the first time, he’d run over a mile and he didn’t feel as if he was going to collapse and die. He wanted to take advantage of his newfound strength and find that damn battery. He had to get out of here.

He and Jamie had been living together for nearly five weeks. Five weeks of bumping into her on the curves, of sharing domestic chores, of being in the same small, confining cabin. Even when he worked on it, he couldn’t go more than a few hours without catching sight of her. Even when he didn’t want to, he found himself watching her, studying the graceful movements of her body and the lean strength that was as much a part of her as her heartbeat. Even when he tried not to, he found himself inhaling the scent of her skin and wanting her.

That was the worst of it. Wanting her. Day after day, night after night. He would lie awake feeling the heat in his groin and know he could never have her. He would wake up in an agonizing state of arousal, having dreamed about their week together. Cold showers weren’t working anymore. Nothing helped. He had to get away from her.

When he reached the woods, he slowed. He’d already searched the house and hadn’t found the battery. Which meant she’d stowed it somewhere in the woods. If she’d been any other female, he could have limited the search area to how far she would be able to carry the battery. Because he was dealing with Jamie, that information wasn’t going to help him. She could have carried it for miles.

But she wouldn’t have, he reminded himself. She would want it relatively close by in case of a medical emergency. After all, he’d been in pretty bad shape when he’d arrived.

He stood with his back to the Bronco and surveyed the foliage in front of him. New, bright leaves covered the tree branches. The temperature still dipped toward freezing at night, but the days were warming up. Spring had arrived.

Zach started his search in a small diamond pattern, expanding it every time he returned to the vicinity of the Bronco. He had to find the battery and he had to leave. If for no other reason than that Jamie was dangerous. Last week she’d talked about demons. He’d understood all too well.

He thought of his enemies as ghosts. Ghosts of the past. Of things done, or undone. Souls of the dead who still cried out. Feelings. He was a damn good agent because nothing got to him. Long ago he’d learned to ignore the slightest hint of emotion. He’d blocked it all away, hiding it behind a thick, locked door in his mind. If he occasionally had to stand vigil at night, using all his considerable strength to lean against that door and keep it closed, it was a small price to pay for sanity.