Surrender in Silk (11 page)

“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to fit in when I was younger. School would have been a lot more fun.”

“Do you regret the job?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you left.”

She thought about the question. “I don’t regret all I accomplished. I have the satisfaction of knowing I made a direct difference in people’s lives. What I did mattered.”

“You did good work.”

She turned toward him. “How would you know?”

“I make it a habit to keep up with all my students.”

Bitter disappointment coated her tongue. She didn’t want to be one of his students. She wanted to be special. Different. Important.

Wishes…they were such a waste of time. If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

The night closed around them. Jamie looked up at the stars twinkling from the heavens. “I didn’t think it would cost this much,” she whispered. “I didn’t know that the darkness would get inside of me and eat me alive.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“A lot of good that does me now.”

“Jamie, I—”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t bother explaining, Zach. You’re right. You did try to warn me. I still remember what you said. That this wasn’t going to be a nine-to-five job. It wasn’t selling insurance or working in an office. That once I crossed the line, I could never find my way back. I suppose I should have listened.”

But she couldn’t have. Not then. At that moment, seven years ago, all she’d been able to focus on was that Zach didn’t want her. The pain had filled her until nothing else was real. She’d carried the hurt for years. In some ways, it was still with her. The job had been the only constant she could cling to. She would never have wanted to hear the agency might not be the right place for her. After Zach rejected her, she had something to prove.

“I didn’t believe you,” she said at last.

“And now?”

“Now I know you were right. Satisfied?”

“No. Despite what you think about me, I didn’t want to be right. I wanted you to make it work. No one else had, but I thought you might have a chance.”

It took her a couple of minutes to figure out the burning in her eyes wasn’t from exhaustion but from tears. Dammit, she refused to cry.

“Sorry to let you down,” she said lightly as she blinked away the moisture. “I guess I can’t be your best student after all.”

She wondered if he heard the bitterness behind her attempt at humor. If he did, he didn’t mention it.

“I can’t help you find your way back,” he said quietly. “I don’t know that there is a way. I’m sorry. I wish it could be different.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. I knew you could be the best. I knew the price you would pay and I tried to warn you, but I think I always knew you weren’t going to
listen. Whatever else happened between us, I always respected you.”

She didn’t know what to say. It was the first time he’d referred to their time together without being cutting or sarcastic. Intense longing filled her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him close until they both forgot everything but being together. She wanted to be near him, naked, touching, loving. She remembered what it had been like to make love with him. He’d been so considerate, teaching her everything she would ever need to know.

But she didn’t reach out to him. Instead, she cringed as she recalled her innocent enthusiasm and how eager she’d been to learn. What had he thought of her then? She’d held nothing back, not physically or emotionally. She’d exposed her very soul to this man, and he’d chosen to walk away.

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.

Z
ach 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.

He didn’t really have a choice in the matter. If he let the door open, even just a crack, if he let out one sliver of emotion, everything would burst free, burying him alive. He would never survive.

He’d seen it happen to other agents, good agents. They went along fine, then something got to them. A child’s death, a wife’s betrayal. They got lost in the pain and never found their way out. Some retired to live quiet lives of suffering. Others made stupid mistakes and got killed. Others took the quick way out and killed themselves.

Many rookies had a hard time learning the principle of shutting down emotionally. For Zach, the process had already been second nature. He’d learned it on the streets when he’d been a kid. His time in the juvenile facility had simply reinforced the lesson. Feel nothing. Protect your back. Survive at all costs.

But with Jamie around, he was doing more than surviving. He was living. Every day she forced him to face the world, when all he really wanted to do was hide. She made him stand in the light, damn her. She made him talk—worse, she made him laugh. With her he couldn’t pretend to be half-dead. And most frightening of all, she made him desire her. That desire left him vulnerable.

It wasn’t just the physical ache of wanting a woman. That he could handle. When he was between assignments, he often found someone uncomplicated with whom he could spend some time. As long as the woman provided decent sex and didn’t ask a lot of questions, he was willing to get involved for a week or even a month. Then he returned to his world, and she was forgotten.

He’d never forgotten Jamie. Even after all this time, he recalled being with her. If he were a different kind of man, he might be willing to admit he’d missed her. But he wasn’t…and he hadn’t.

But the desire was unfamiliar. As unfamiliar as her need to find answers to her questions. She wanted a way out. He only wanted to go in deeper. She wanted answers; he didn’t want to hear the questions. He wished her luck on her journey. She was going to need it. No one he’d ever known had found his
or her way back. Zach had given up looking a long time ago. Soon she would figure that out and leave him to his shadows.

That realization should have made him feel better. But what if she didn’t go? So far, she showed no signs of moving on. He often thought about that. When the pain of his injuries and lack of sleep brought him to his knees, he wondered why Jamie was here. With him. She couldn’t think that he would be the one—

He shook his head. “Yeah, right,” he muttered as he kicked at the loose earth around the base of a small bush. “As if you’re anyone’s idea of a prize.” She wouldn’t want a life with him. She probably wanted to marry a banker or an accountant.

Somebody
normal
. Frustration pushed him on. Tall pine trees reached for the sky. He ignored the beauty, the sweet smell of spring, and stared intently at the ground. After nearly an hour of searching, he found it.

The ground looked undisturbed, but there was a small notch in the base of a mid-sized pine tree. He squatted and ran his finger along the length of the notch. It was new. A clean cut, made by a knife.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, and began scraping the leaves to one side.

Five minutes later, he pulled the battery out of the loose earth. She’d wrapped it in a trash bag. “You always did good work, Jamie. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

He rose to his feet and headed for the Bronco. Halfway there he paused, then slowly came to a stop.

Of course he wanted to leave. What else mattered? Yet even as the thoughts formed, another voice whispered that he really wasn’t ready to go. He should be but he wasn’t. They had unfinished business together. And if he drove away now, he knew he would never see her again. The thought was more than he could stand.

Without wanting to, and all the while calling himself ten
different kinds of fool, he headed back into the woods and buried the battery. He didn’t bother concealing the hiding place.

As he stomped on the soft ground, his temper flared. What the hell was he thinking? Why was she tying him up in knots? Why was he letting her?

He stalked to the cabin, then angrily stepped inside.

Jamie’s bedroom door closed as he entered the living room. “You were gone a long time. Are you all right?” she called through the door.

He swore loudly. He was acting like a damn idiot, and it was all her fault. “Leave me alone. I’m fine. I don’t need you baby-sitting me.”

He slammed the front door. The loud crash made him feel both better and childish. All right, so it was wrong to yell at her. But if he started yelling at himself, the white-coat crew would be after him with a net.

He paced the living room, walking the length of the room twice, balled his fists and glared at Jamie’s door. He was ready for a fight. At least arguing with her would burn off some energy. The great thing about Jamie was that she could give back tenfold what she took. He could always count on her to not take any garbage from him.

“What are you doing in there?” he asked abruptly.

Something crashed to the floor, followed by an odd sound.

Had it been any other female but her, he would have thought it was a stifled sob.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, her voice muffled through the door. “I’ll be right out.”

He moved toward her room, temper forgotten. “Jamie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I said. Just go make coffee or something. I’m fine.”

An unfamiliar urgency welled up inside of him. “Jamie, what are you doing?”

“Leave me alone.”

Her words were thick with tears. He didn’t have to see her face to know; he could feel it in his gut.

Knowing she was going to have his head for this, he placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it quickly. Then he opened the door and stepped into the room.

His practiced gaze took in the closed window, the narrow bed, the shopping bags scattered on the blanket. The thunk he’d heard earlier had probably come from the small cosmetics bottle resting on the carpet by her bare feet. Once he’d cataloged the room and eliminated it as the source of her distress, he turned his attention to her.

She stood in front of the mirror on the wall. Her long hair was loosely pinned on top of her head, as it had been the day he’d accidentally caught her leaving her bath. His fingers itched to pull the pins free and watch the long strands tumble to her waist.

His gaze lowered and he frowned. Instead of a sweatshirt and jeans, she wore a frilly blouse. The pale peach fabric sucked the color from her face, leaving her looking drawn. The oversize, puffy sleeves dwarfed her slender frame. A full skirt hung loosely from her waist to about midcalf. She looked awkward, like a child playing dress-up.

She made a harsh sound in the back of her throat. He looked at her face in the mirror. Makeup stained her cheeks, smearing on her skin like a melting mask. Lipstick darkened her lips until they stood out like bruises against her pale skin.

“Go ahead and laugh,” she said, then turned away from her reflection. “Lord knows, I would if I were you. Pretty pitiful, don’t you think?”

“What are you doing?”

She sniffed. “Isn’t it obvious? Trying to wear makeup. ‘Trying’ being the operative word. Or maybe ‘trying and failing’ would be more descriptive. I look ridiculous.” She
picked up a washcloth and brushed it across her mouth. The lipstick stained the white cloth like blood.

She was a sleek cat dressing like a china doll. He was about to tell her when the light from the window illuminated the side of her face and he saw the one thing he’d never imagined coming from her. A tear.

His chest tightened, and his heart squeezed painfully. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer. Not this woman. Never Jamie.

She was all things to him. Despite what he’d done to her, despite how he’d treated her, she’d survived. She was fearless and strong. For reasons he could never understand, she’d chosen to save his life. When he would have died, she’d stepped in to save him. She’d been at risk on the assignment, yet she’d come for him. He didn’t know why and he was afraid to ask her reasons. There was a part of him that didn’t want to hear the confession.

What she’d done for him only made watching her pain worse. Not because he owed her, although he’d incurred a debt he could never repay. But because he knew her strength and how deep a wound would run before she would give in to tears.

He took a step toward her. But she either didn’t see his approach or didn’t care. She spun, presenting him with her back, then sank gracefully to the floor.

“It’s all a mistake,” she said, picking up the makeup bottle. “I’m not sure who I was trying to kid. I can’t be like everyone else. I don’t have a clue about how to be a woman. Look at me.” She tugged at the gaping neckline of the blouse. “I can’t even dress myself. I don’t know what to buy.” She tossed the bottle on the bed. “I sure don’t know anything about makeup. I’m missing the female gene or something. Now, if some fashion types needed a sharpshooter—then I’d have it made.”

“Jamie—”

She shook her head. “You can’t teach me this one, Zach. I have to find it inside myself and I don’t know if I can. I’ve
read articles about female bonding. Bonding! I don’t know how to bond. I’m not even sure what it is. I don’t have friends I call on the phone. I don’t go to lunch with anyone. I’ve never even dated. I can kill a man with my bare hands, but I don’t know how to buy a skirt and blouse that don’t look stupid on me.” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “I thought I could find the answers. I thought I could retrain myself—like going backward in time. I just didn’t know my clock had stopped. I’ve failed, Zach. For the first time in years, I’ve failed.”

He was at her side in an instant. “You haven’t failed,” he said, crouching down beside her. His hands hovered over her shoulders. He wanted to touch her but didn’t know if he dared. He had no rights here. He’d thrown them away years ago.

“It’s sure not success,” she muttered.

Despite his misgivings, her pain spurred him to action. He couldn’t let her go on suffering like this. “It’s not about clothes,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what you wear, Jamie. You’re still a woman.”

“You’re not exactly the picture of mental health yourself,” she said, then sniffed. “Forgive me if I don’t get all enthused about your opinions on my femininity.”

He grabbed her arm and tugged. As he rose, he pulled her to her feet. “I may not be Joe Normal, but I am a man. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you’re female down to your soul.”

His dark eyes blazed with a light that should have blinded her. Instead, Jamie found herself wanting to move closer and bask in the glow. Worse, she wanted to believe him. When the temptation grew too strong, she forced herself to remember what she’d looked like when she’d glanced in the mirror. The shock had left her breathless.

She hadn’t expected to be instantly beautiful, although that would have been a nice fantasy. But she also hadn’t thought
she would look so incredibly stupid. Who would have thought it would be so hard to look like a girl?

“You don’t have to be kind,” she said, and tried to move away.

But he didn’t let her go. He held on to her right arm, just above the wrist. His grip wasn’t enough to bruise, but she knew she wasn’t going to get away until he chose to let her go.

“I’m not being kind. I’m telling the truth. You’re a beautiful woman.”