Like a Knife (25 page)

She didn't hear him loom up to her. It was only when he reached around and cut off the water that she realized he'd gotten out of bed and followed her.

She glowered at him. "Are you crazy? You shouldn't be up." He was sweating again, the moisture dampening the rim of his hair. "You should be in bed, in a hospital."

"I didn't have a choice," he said quietly, and she knew he wasn't referring to bed rest. "Nothing would have stopped Rennie short of hell. You know that."

She did know, but it didn't change anything. She had to get out of there. If she stayed, he'd only break her heart again.

She tried to step away, but he used the cane to block her path. "Where are you going?"

"Home. Isaac will be finished with school. I have to pick him up."

"Your aunt is picking him up."

She glared at him through angry tears, How did he know that? Oh, yes, Danny. His compatriot in conspiracy. She swiped at her traitorous eyes and slipped around his cane. "I have to go."

Somehow, he hobbled in front of her. One part of her knew that move must have hurt The other part refused to care.

"You can go later. After we talk. Then if you want, I'll let you go anywhere. But first you have to listen to me."

His battered body stood in her way. He was thin, too thin. She could easily have evaded him but had the feeling he'd kill himself following her. And much as he wanted to die, she declined to be the cause again.

"What is there to say, Nick? We needed protecting, and you were willing to die to do it. I know that should make me eternally grateful, and it does." She smiled at him, the wave of pain that washed over her turning
it
iflto a rictus. "God, Nick, it does. It makes my heart turn over with love for you. But the thing is"-she swallowed, fighting through tears-"the thing is, I don't want a dead hero. Dying is easy, Nick. It's the living that's hard."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are, and you know what's funny?" She laughed, sour and sharp. "If the car hadn't blown up, you wouldn't be. The only reason you're standing here is that car bomb. I guess we should send the Irish Liberation Council a thank-you, because if it had been up to you-"

"I did what I had to."

"I know. That's the kicker, isn't it?" She ran a hand over the top of her head, trying to stop the sick rush of certainty that he'd had no choice. "And who knows, maybe you're right. Maybe choice is an illusion, and we're all backed into corners, doing what we have to do. I'm sure my father would have said the same thing. But if that's true, how do I know you won't make the same choice next week or next year?"

"Rachel-"

She shook her head, hugging herself. "I can't go through that again. I can't sit home day after day wondering when you'll come back or if you'll come back. I spent my childhood like that, I won't spend the rest of my life that way. And I couldn't take another loss." She rubbed her arms, chilled despite the cabin's stuffiness. "You don't know... you don't know what it was like. I thought... I thought I'd died myself."

"But you didn't." His face was fierce, his black eyes dark with intensity. "You're alive, and by some crazy miracle and Danny's help, so am I. And I love you." He pulled her roughly toward him, enveloping her in his embrace. "I love you, Rachel. I'm not going anywhere. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. With our children."

Stiff within the circle of his arms, she tried to stay numb to his words. It was the first time he'd mentioned Isaac or the baby, and her heart almost melted. She felt the child stir inside her as if saying,
Listen to him, trust him.
But what did an unborn child know about trust? Or about sticking when it was so much easier to bolt?

"I'm sorry. I just... can't do this." She untangled herself and headed for the door.

"Dammit, don't go!" He started after her, but his leg gave way and he fell, clutching the counter at the last minute to keep himself from hitting the Hoot.

Her heart dropped to her toes, and she ran back to support him. "For God's sake, Nick."

He grit his teeth, cursing, and with massive effort, pulled himself upright.

"You should be in bed."

"Only ... if you... come with me." He grinned, but she could see what it cost him.

She couldn't bear it. She couldn't stand watching the pain flit across his face while he tried to ignore it. "I'll come if you take one of your pills."

He shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "Can't. It'll put me to sleep... and how do I know you'll still... be here when I wake up?"

Slinging one of his arms around her shoulder, she helped him back to the bedroom. "You'll just have to trust me."

He snorted. "Then you'll... have to... do the same. Trust me."

She eased him onto the bed, a hard feat to accomplish without hurting him. But eventually he was propped against the pillows again. She went back to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. Uncapping the medicine bottle, she shook out the pills and handed him one. She closed the bottle and saw the name printed on the label.

"Who's Adam Newman?"

His hand fisted around the tablet but he didn't bring it to his mouth. "Me."

"I don't understand."

He shut his eyes. His face looked gray. "It was part of Danny's deal. He figured I'd always be a target unless the bomb did what it was supposed to do. So Nicky Raine died, and Adam Newman was born."

She stared at him, the endless complications of his life closing in on her like a trap. And like a hunted animal, she could see the trap in all its danger but was oddly fascinated by it. She rolled the name around in her head, trying it out.
Adam Newman.
Adam, the first man. And Newman. The significance of the name wasn't lost on her. A new man. New start. New life.

He latched onto her hand, tugging her down beside him. "I am a new man, Rachel."

But it was risky to believe; she removed her hand from his. "Take your pill."

"I told you, I'm expecting visitors."

"A few hours' sleep won't kill you." She glared until he put the medicine in his mouth. "Swallow." She tipped the glass against his mouth and forced him to gulp. He coughed and growled at her.

"Jesus Christ. You're worse than the nurses in the hospital."

"Someone ought to give them a lesson, then."

He sank back against the pillow, clearly irritated. "Look, these things go off like rockets. I only have a few minutes, and I don't want to spend them arguing." He patted the bed beside him. "Come here."

She backed away. "Not on your life."

He laughed, dry and mirthless. "I could lie and say I don't give a damn about your body, but the truth is, I couldn't do anything about it anyway. I'll be out cold in a few minutes. I'm not interested in you. Not yet." He watched her from the bed, his eyes as hard and ruthless as she'd ever seen them. "Don't make me get up and drag you here. I could do it, but it'd hurt like hell."

From the look on his face she didn't doubt it. She wished to hell she didn't care if he killed himself, but the bitter truth was, she did.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep," she said begrudgingly.

"Fine."

Keeping a cautious eye on him, she walked to the far side of the bed and lay down.

"Roll away any farther, and you'll fall off," he said drily.

"You wanted me here. I'm here."

"Christ." He shifted a bit closer, and she closed her eyes against the wince of pain the movement caused. "You make it goddamn hard for a father to be near his kid. And then to her utter amazement, he put a hand on the baby.

Her gaze flew to his, and instinctively she covered his hand with her own.

His mouth curved in amusement. "I told you I didn't want to jump your bones." He smiled softly. "But I'm dying of curiosity about this."

He pressed his fingers against her belly, and emotion tightened the back of her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't move. She felt the heat of his hand beneath hers, their fingers intertwined above their growing child. It was the moment she'd craved, the moment she'd wanted ever since she realized she was carrying his child. A moment she thought she'd never have.

"When Danny told me about the baby... I don't know, I thought he was kidding. A great big joke on the dead man." He stroked the circumference of her abdomen, slow and gentle, as if needing to experience every inch of her. "But he wasn't joking." His voice blew soft, reverent. "God, you're so beautiful. Are you all right? Is the baby all right?"

She had to clear her throat before she could talk. "We're fine. Healthy. Perfectly fine."

"You have everything you need? Doctors, medicines, whatever? I've got money. A lot of money. I'll give you anything you want."

"I don't need anything."
Except you.

He closed his eyes. She could see him drifting, but he kept his hand on her. "You can leave if you want, you can try to cut me out of your life, but I swear I'll find you. I'm not letting another kid of mine grow up without me."

A tear leaked quietly, but thank God, he wasn't look-ing.

His voice grew softer, dreamy. "Danny and the Feds, they called me the Ghost. It was my code name. Big secret. Wasn't supposed to know." His breathing slowed more, grew deeper and even. His words started to slur. "But I'm not... a ghost... not anymore. I'm Adam... the first man... new man. Adam... Newman."

Silence. She stared up at the ceiling, tears falling sideways down her face onto the bed. God, what should she do? She couldn't think with his hand on her like that, claiming her, his heat warming them both, her and the child. She had to get up, get away.

She rose, thinking he'd fallen asleep, but he murmured something, something so soft and low she had to lean over to hear it "Could have... stayed away. You'd... never... known the difference."

She stilled, her heart racing.

Looking down at him, she suddenly saw what she hadn't seen before. Not Nick, not her dark, doomed love who had chosen death and gotten his wish, but Adam, the man who had crawled out of a hospital bed and escaped an army to come back to her. The man who could have kept Danny's secret and stayed away forever. The man who'd come back, wounded and half dead.

She slipped out of bed. He was sleeping deeply now, and she ran a hand gently over his shorn head.

He'd come back. When he didn't have to. He'd come back.

Running outside to the car, she found her cell phone and punched in the emergency number Danny had given her long ago.

It took the Irishman |five hours to get an ambulance there. Nick was just waking up when the medics arrived. Groggy, he eyed the government agent, who stood overseeing the two soldiers assembling a portable gurney. "Someone call in the marines?"

One of the medics nodded over to Rachel, who stood at the foot of the bed. "Your girlfriend."

Nick absorbed that information without flinching, but turned hard eyes on her. "So much for trust."

She flushed. "You need to be in a hospital, Nick."

He nodded, his face a sardonic mask. "And you're the girl who's gonna put me there."

The other medic intervened. "Not until we put you on this gurney."

He moved toward the bed, but Nick fought him off. It wasn't much of a fight, not against two large, healthy soldiers.

"What are you doing? Don't hurt him." Rachel pushed herself between Nick and his adversaries, who quickly had him restrained and groaning in pain. "Leave him alone. Get away." She shoved at them, and they backed off, holding up hands in surrender; no one wanted to battle a pregnant woman.

But seeing Nick's truculent attitude, the agent pulled out a gun and a pair of handcuffs.

"No!" Rachel faced him, shielding Nick's body with her own. "No guns. And I was promised he wouldn't be cuffed. He's going back voluntarily, on his own."

"The hell I am."

The two men glared at each other while the medics stood with powerful arms crossed, waiting.

"Five minutes," she asked the Suit. "Give me five minutes alone with him."

A reluctant nod, and the three men left, closing the door behind them.

Nick turned on her, his face a brewing storm. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere. My kids aren't growing up without me."

"You have obligations, Nick. To yourself and to some very important people who want to hear what you have to say."

"I don't care about any damn-"

"I do." She put his hand on the mound of the baby. "I want you strong and healthy so you can help our baby come into the world. I want you free to prove I wasn't wrong to believe in you. You need to go back to the hospital. You need to get well."

"And then what-you disappear over the horizon?"

"I'll be waiting. Anywhere you want me to be."

He watched her out of narrowed eyes, "Why should I believe you?"

"Because you trust me. And because I'm trusting you. I love you. You came back when you didn't have to, so I'm gambling on that love." She drilled him with a look. "But if you wind up dead again, all bets are off. So-" She stuck out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

He studied her closely, thinking it over. Then a slow grin spread over his face, and he slipped his hand into hers. "Deal," he said, and tightened his grip before she could pull away. "I know I said I wasn't up to jumping you, but I don't see why in hell you can't jump me." And the next thing she knew, he'd tugged her on top of him till she straddled him. "I've been dreaming about this for months." And he kissed her.