Torn (Deep 8, #5)

20. Roger

TWENTY

Roger

I’ve experienced many things in my life, but nothing as earth-shattering as witnessing a woman on the verge of a breakdown. Harlow’s story would be horrific for anyone, let alone a teenager.

My back leans against the wall outside the bathroom, listening intently for any signs of distress, ready to burst in at a moment’s notice. One of Amalia’s guards stands next to me, a silent reminder that escape is not an option without Harlow.

"Roger?" Her voice is muffled behind the door.

I peek my head around. "What do you need?"

"You," she says without looking up from her bubbles.

The door closes behind me, and I pull a stool close to the tub. Dark circles shadow her eyes, and her skin is paler than ever.

"No, I want you in here with me." Her eyes are void of emotion; her trauma trapped inside.

I strip down and slip in behind her as water spills over the edge of the tub. Her warm body molds to mine as I wrap my arms around her waist. Pushing her hair to one side, I notice her panic button behind her ear. We think alike as I reach for mine to make sure it’s secure.

"I’ve never told anyone what I saw that night. It’s been a dark part of my soul since then. The thorn of betrayal stabs me and continues to bleed. Some of the bleeding stopped today, and I can breathe again. Guilt is a bitch with claws who never lets go."

"It sounds like you held that in for a very long time. Things like that can eat away at you."

"Of all the things I’ve seen over the years, that one stayed with me. Are you disappointed in me for not saving her?" Her body stiffens.

"You saved yourself. God knows what would have happened to you if you tried to intervene. You weren’t trained the way you are now. There were more of them, and they were strong, young men."

She turns to face me. "I never thought of it that way. I joined the military to learn how to protect those who can’t protect themselves, but it weighs on me. I’m not sure I will ever get over it."

In a voice barely above a whisper, I ask the question I’m not sure I want answered, "What happened to Hope?"

Tears crest in her eyes as her face contorts in pain. "When I came back on leave, I found out she had killed herself, leaving a letter detailing that night’s events."

She lies on my chest as I kiss her head. "The family never disclosed the details of the letter but tried to press charges against the boys, including Sam. I was back on assignment and never found out what happened."

"You need to find a way to forgive yourself or you’ll never be free to fly again." She nods.

We stay in that position for a while until I carry her out and dry her off. I pull back the covers and lay her on the bed. Her eyes flutter closed, and she falls fast asleep.

There’s a soft knock on the door and I open it to Amalia on the other side.

"We need to talk." Her hands are clasped in front of her.

"Agreed. Harlow is sleeping, which is what she needs to do right now."

"Is she going to be all right?" Her eyes furrow with concern.

"I think so. A trauma she suffered long ago has resurfaced." I watch her face for a reaction.

She nods. "The past has a habit of haunting us far into the future."

We move to the dining room where two men stand guard. A tea service is set before us. My nerves are frayed, but a good agent never lets emotions interfere with an op. I dig deep and tap into my Jack Reacher mode, the stoic, logical character played by Alan Ritchson.

Amalia places teacups on the table and fills them to the brim. "We have a problem. I can’t keep you here forever, and you can’t leave here with the piece of the device. I’m not sure what to do other than to let you go without the piece."

I play the emotion card, hoping to sway her. "You must have had strong feelings for my father at some point."

She shifts in her chair, staring at her steaming cup, and sighs but says nothing.

"Deep 8 has kidnapped him and demanded that we gather all three pieces of the device for his release. I’m not sure it will be enough. We’re scouring his computer to find out what he knew about Deep 8. They must be brought down, and this is the only way. I have a team in place ready to secure you."

Her hands shake as the teacup rattles on the saucer. "You don’t understand. They have eyes everywhere. The minute I give you the piece, my daughter will die. It’s a no-win situation. No team in the world can secure me and my daughter," she says in a whisper.

My finger itches to push the panic button behind my ear, but I hold off. We need a plan for us and Amalia and her daughter before calling in the cavalry. I wish Harlow were here to give us some ideas. Time is running out to call for help and get us out of here.

"Let’s wait for Harlow to wake up. Together, we can come up with a plan that works for everyone," I say in a soothing voice.

She shakes her head. "There’s no way out. I need direct contact with Deep 8 to give them the piece. Those were the instructions from your father."

"My father is a lot of things, but being right all the time wasn’t one of them. This is a double-edged sword. If you give us the piece, someone dies. If you don’t, my father dies." I hold my head in my hands.

"We each have a huge stake in this, but remember my men outnumber you and Harlow." These are Amalia’s final words before she excuses herself from the table.

The guards escort me to my room where Harlow sleeps peacefully. Her blond hair fans out like gold ribbons and her full raspberry lips part with a soft sigh. I wrack my brain trying to come up with a plan where everyone wins.

The best time for us to hit the panic button is tonight, but if Amalia is correct, they have eyes on this place and know what’s going on.

Harlow stirs next to me. "What’s going on?" she asks.

I fill her in, and we discuss the option of having the team come in tonight. She smiles like she has the answers we’ve been looking for.

"We’ll wait until after dinner and close the drapes around the house. The circuit board is probably in the basement. Anything Deep 8 set up in or around her house would require power. During the power outage, I’ll share my plan with the team. We still have a chance to get this piece and save your father."

The desire to make love to her overwhelms me, but that’s not what she needs. She burrows into my arms, and we lie wrapped up in each other as the sun plays hide-and-seek with the clouds. My finger traces her tattoos as I find her ticklish spots. Her smile returns for a moment and gives me a brief respite from this crazy day.

Harlow has programmed herself to save people, and she’s good at it. I hope everyone can get out of here without casualties, but I’m prepared for the worst.