The Talented Mr. Rivers (19 page)

Nine days passed and Will still didn't know where he was. Some part of southern France in a clinic. Outside of the building where he stayed for the operation and to recuperate there were beautiful rolling hills. He could see stone buildings in the distance and fields. All on the other side of the fence that locked him inside a compound.

He tried to stretch and the thumping in his arm sped up again. He'd be sore for weeks, maybe forever. The doctors talked about rehab and how he'd have to be careful of how much weight he carried on that shoulder. Another insisted he'd been lucky because without the vest or just a half an inch over and it might have clipped his lung. Caused internal damage.

He'd heard the prognosis and refused more medication. He was tired of being drugged and out of it in a building full of strangers. The only faces he recognized were of Seth and Fisher. They'd both been to visit. Zach had also stopped by at the beginning but Will had only heard about that part because he'd slept through it.

No Hunter.

Seth provided some lame excuse about Hunter having to report to the BND and this being a CIA facility and protocol. All fucking bullshit. Hunter would be there if he wanted to be, and he didn't. He'd finished his mission and gotten his man. Men, in this case. Both Gatt and Peter were dead.

Just thinking about his brother sent a new punch of guilt spiking through Will. There hadn't been a choice. The chances had been overwhelming that no one was going to walk out of that room, and Will knew it was a miracle he had. But even with understanding who his brother was and realizing both he and Stacia really were dead—that he was alone in the world—Will couldn't shake the loss. It made him physically sick.

He'd heaved when he heard the news about Peter not surviving the ambulance ride. Hadn't been able to eat much since, and only did under doctor's threat of never being able to leave the facility.

The memories kept running through Will's mind in slow motion. Back in the apartment, in the final minute, Peter had tried to save him. He'd taken the bullet even though Will knew Gatt meant it for him. In the end, the brotherly bond had remained intact. Will tried to hold on to that as the guilt ate away at him.

As he'd been doing for days, he sat there on the bench and inhaled, breathing in the warm fresh air. He couldn't leave, but he could go outside. After what felt like years of being holed up and unable to walk around, he wouldn't take it for granted now. The days where the curtains had to be drawn and the sunlight hidden were behind him.

Not that he knew what came next. He didn't. He'd been questioned and had told the people from the CIA and BND, and other organizations he didn't know the acronyms for, everything he knew about his family's dealings. Hadn't held back, even when the details showed he knew enough to make him liable as an accessory for at least some of it.

He told them how Peter said their father had made arrangements for information to pass from generation to generation. Will assumed that meant once the intelligence agencies sifted through every document and last dollar, they'd find a file or a key to a box or something. They could have it all.

He didn't regret the information purge. He needed to clean his mind and his soul. For now, he'd rest. Try to clear his mind.

He tilted his head back and cradled his injured arm in the sling. Let the sunshine hit his face. Tried not to dwell on his one regret. He did love Hunter. His last words had been about blaming him for Peter, about wishing they hadn't been together. The shock and pain had rolled over him and he'd lashed out when he could barely move. And Hunter had done what Hunter always did. He ran.

As he sat there, one thought hit Will. It really was time to move on.

“You aren't really going to let it end like this, are you?”

Hunter tried to ignore Fisher's annoying voice. Fisher had been pushing for days, insisting it was time to let Will know he'd been there as he recovered, at night, the whole time. Good advice probably, but Hunter hadn't been ready to see the hatred in Will's eyes, so he'd limited his visits to times when Will slept. When Will couldn't yell at him to leave. Made the rest of the team agree not to talk.

It had been safer, but it felt so shitty. Actually, it felt like nothing. Hunter was so numb that he could barely function. His BND bosses had demanded answers and he'd told them pieces he could manage to put together through his pounding grief—whatever it took to get them to let him rush to the clinic. Seth had filled in the rest. Whatever he said must have worked. Hunter hadn't been fired or thrown in prison.

But his job didn't matter now. Will did.

“Hey.” Fisher stepped in front of Hunter, blocking his view of Will through the window. “I know we don't like each other.”

“That's probably an understatement.”

“But I know what this feels like. Your world is shattered. You've been ripped open and emptied out. You ache in places you didn't know you could ache.” Fisher winced. “Sorry, man, but you're in love.”

“I know.” In those few seconds when he'd believed he was too late, when he'd thought he'd lost Will, when he'd seen all that blood, Hunter's mind had snapped. He'd thought of Will being dead and a bleak darkness fell over him. Reality hit him. He'd been in love with Will almost from the start, even as he denied it and fought it and tried to stamp it out.

“Wait.” Fisher's head shot back. “You do?”

Hunter almost smiled. He might have if he could have felt anything right now other than shaky and unsure. “I'm smarter than you. I figured it out.”

“Then what the hell has you hiding?”

“You know what I feel for him isn't enough.”

“Damn it, Hunter. Here I was feeling bad for you.” Fisher started pacing. He kept muttering and using the word “idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

Fisher gave him an openmouthed stare. “Stop being a dumbass and go talk to your man.”

That sounded so easy. It was exactly what Hunter had planned to do today. He'd showed up early and walked down the hall to Will's room four times. Finally had given up when he realized he couldn't breathe when he got one room away.

But he didn't intend to run. All those old instincts about fighting off personal pain and not letting anyone in rose up and threatened to swamp him. Voices in his head shouted for him to go back to Germany and regroup. Let Will disappear into whatever new life Seth's people established for him.

That was the plan, to let Will have a new life. Hunter had insisted and Seth backed him up. In his head Hunter knew that Will's new life shouldn't include him. That all he would do was bring new rounds of danger to Will's doorstep, and Will deserved better. But he couldn't walk away.

“Really, why are you still standing here with me?” Fisher asked. “I could be finding a dark closet to be with Zach and you could be putting your fucked-up relationship back together.”

Hunter felt stupid saying it, but…“I don't know what to say to him.”

The tension left Fisher's shoulders and they fell. “You'll know when you're standing two feet away from him. Trust me.”

Trust.
Not an easy thing for Hunter.

“Right.” But Hunter still couldn't get his legs to work. It was as if the signals from his brain kept fizzling out on him.

Fisher shook his head. “Go or I'll shoot you.”

That time Hunter did laugh. He also pushed away from the window.

Fisher winked. “I knew that would work.”

Every single time.
Hunter got halfway to the door before turning around. “Thanks.”

Will stood up. He needed to make plans. That meant getting real answers from Seth. Every time he'd tried to figure out what would happen next, Seth had dodged. He'd talked a lot about recuperation, which made Will think his future options weren't all that great. He could live with that now that Pentasus had been destroyed or was at least in its final death spiral.

He started to walk back to the building. Sensed someone staring at him and looked up. Hunter stood right there, probably five feet away. Just watching, the way he usually did.

For a second Will thought he was daydreaming. That he'd stayed too long in the sun this time. Or the pain meds still hadn't left his system. But then Hunter started moving. In long strides he moved across the lawn and stopped in front of Will

“You came.” It was a stupid thing to say but Will couldn't think of anything else.

“I've been here the whole time.”

That didn't make any sense. Then again, none of this did. The location, the people roaming around, the clinic…Hunter suddenly right there. “What?”

Hunter had the nerve to sigh at him. “Do you really think I'd let you come here without me?”

Anger filled Will. It shot through him and raced through every pore. He should hate the sensation but it was the first sign of life he'd felt in days. “The bodyguard thing? Yeah, you're fired. You're free to go.”

Hunter shook his head but didn't move. “I know you hate me.”

That quickly, all the anger rushed right back out of Will. He stood there empty and confused. When he studied Hunter's face he saw the same emotions mirrored there. “I don't—”

“I didn't intend to kill Peter.” Hunter took another step, closing the gap between them. He lifted his hand and almost touched Will's arm before letting it drop. “I tried like hell not to, but Gatt's bullet…” He shook his head again. “I'm sorry.”

The pain radiated off him. Will could feel it and wanted to tamp it down. “Hunter.”

“I am a fucking mess without you. Seeing you at night and not being able to talk to you or really touch you…” His voice dropped off, something it rarely did. He usually ran into a conversation and took it over. Not this time. “It wasn't enough.”

Will saw the truth then. The drawn face and pale skin. The tightness around his eyes and the way he rubbed his stomach as if it ached. He hadn't run. He hadn't moved on. He'd been struggling.

Will knew he should celebrate the fact that Hunter cared, but seeing him brought to his knees hurt as much as the thumping in his shoulder. But right behind that came another sensation. A sense of calm. A spark of hope.

“You really have been here.” He repeated the words playing in his head because he still couldn't believe them. He half expected Hunter to shoot him down.

Hunter winced. “Except for a day when I thought I was going to be arrested for treason.”

“What?”

Hunter waved off the concern but his expression didn't brighten even a little. “Didn't happen.”

The conversation kept bouncing around. Will tried to grab the threads. He wanted all the answers but the part about Hunter not leaving swamped everything else. He had to focus to sound even a little rational. “Why would it?”

“Because I chose you over the mission.” Hunter touched Will then. Put a hand on the side of his face and let it slide down to his neck to rest there. “Would every single time.”

Will stopped breathing. “Why?”

“Will, come on.”

No, he couldn't back down now. Will needed to hear it all. Hunter couldn't hide from this. Not if they were to have any sort of chance. “Say it.”

Hunter's hand dropped. Slipped over Will's chest, then down to his side. “That I fell for you? That I fucking love you even though I don't want to and barely know what that means? That the idea of not seeing you again, that Seth would ship you off and refuse to tell me your new name so I'd have to track you down, nearly killed me?”

Will fought back a smile but it filled him from the inside out. The spark of hope burst into a full-blown flame. “All of it. That was good.”

“What?”

He knew Hunter needed more and rushed to give it to him. “You didn't kill Peter. I was there. I know what happened.”

“I couldn't save him.”

“You saved me.” Will could only move one arm, but he put one of his hands on Hunter's cheek. On this point he was willing to plead and beg to make him understand. “In every way.”

And that wasn't a line. Will knew the truth. Understood now that he had been living in denial about his family and had pretended not to see. Eventually that would have destroyed him. Either that or Stacia and Peter would have killed him for his weakness—or, knowing them, just for spite.

Hunter's hand covered Will's. “You were never going to be them.”

“But I was going to live on the periphery, knowing what Pentasus was and not doing anything about it. I was going to be a sort of silent partner, bartering my silence for my freedom.” Will had to own that. No matter what happened next, he did need to shoulder some of the responsibility for his family's choices.

“You would have broken away.”

Hunter still didn't get it, but Will did. “You made me stay and fight. You made me better.”

“But you lost Peter.”

He still talked tough, but Will could feel Hunter weakening. Hunter wanted to take on all the guilt and be the one who'd messed up. Punish himself. Will wasn't about to let that happen. Not now that he'd seen a glimpse inside Hunter. He might look like he could handle anything, but he was human and a bullet wasn't the only thing that could knock him down. The emotions moving through him seemed to be doing a good job.

“And I'll mourn him because he deserves to be mourned, but I gained you.” Will leaned in and pressed a light kiss on Hunter's mouth.

“I do love you.” Hunter's voice sounded scratchy.

There it was. The final promise that made a future possible. Will refused to let it slip away. “You act like it hurts to say the words.”

“From what I can tell, love fucking sucks.” Hunter frowned even as his arms wrapped around Will's waist. “I worry about you. I have this guilt and now my future is confused and all twisted up.”