Torn (Deep 8, #5)

21. Harlow

TWENTY-ONE

Harlow

Suspended in a volatile storm between the past and the present, my heart and soul are torn between reconciling what happened then with who I am now. How do I escape the shadow of my past?

I’m no longer the teenager who witnessed her best friend being bullied and brutalized. Each revisit to that event transforms it into a living, breathing beast. The monster of guilt must be slain. Breaking free from its chains by completing this mission may save my soul and bring the forgiveness I crave.

The man beside me is a salve for my open wound. He has never ceased to be by my side, soothing my fragile ego every step of the way. When I confided my story to him, he neither shamed nor blamed me. I’ve inflicted enough damage on myself, but that won’t stop me from fighting for what is right.

Roger and I debate how to reveal the plan to Amalia once our team arrives to rescue us. We decide to confront her head-on and tell her the truth, avoiding any casualties of her men. As night falls, we each press the panic button behind our ears, activating the GPS for our team to locate us.

Roger opens the door to our bedroom as I stand by his side. He addresses the guard, "We need to see Amalia right away. You’re about to face a problem that can be avoided. Our team is en route, but they have no way of knowing not to shoot to kill."

The guard turns away, presses his ear comm, and rushes down the stairs. I pull Roger back into the room, and we wait. Moments later, the door bursts open and Amalia enters, flanked by her guards.

"I understand we’ll be under siege soon. I don’t want anyone’s death on my hands. Please, tell me what we need to do. There must be a compromise," she pleads, her hands clenched into a tight fist.

"If we’re going to make it out of this alive, there are a couple of things we need to do," I instruct them to draw the drapes and shut down the power at the main circuit breaker. Everyone scatters to do their tasks.

We rendezvous in the dining room, waiting for the MBK crew to arrive. Less than thirty minutes later, we hear the rear door creak open, and Roger goes to greet them.

Dressed in black from head to toe with weapons drawn, the men assess the scene before them as they enter the dining room. "I thought this was a rescue. You’re sitting around drinking tea by candlelight like it’s a séance," Dean grits out.

I stride over to him and push his weapon down. "We needed a compromise to prevent bloodshed. Amalia and her guards are not the enemy, quite the opposite. They’re our allies." The rest of the team lowers their weapons, staring at me in disbelief. Dean, Mac, Declan, Campbell, and Beck seem colossal in the dining room with low ceilings. "Where’s Pippa?" I ask.

"We left her at the safe house, our link to the outside. Why?" Mac says.

"We need her help for this plan to work," I reply.

"Is the key here or not?" Declan’s voice is edged with irritation.

"I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far. I have a plan, and part one of the plan starts tonight. Keep the drapes closed, even when the power comes back on."

"No sleepover in a castle?" Campbell asks. "Quinn would have loved this…" His voice trails off as he turns away.

"Who’s Quinn?" I ask.

Declan rolls his eyes. "His best friend turned girlfriend. Don’t ask him about it, or we’ll be awake all night."

I laugh, welcoming the levity during an intense moment. "I need two of you to go to Clervaux, about thirty minutes north of here, and secure Amalia’s family."

"No problem. Beck and I will go. We can get them into Germany. I know someone with a safe house in Arzfeld," Declan offers.

Roger looks at me. "It’s more complicated than extracting them and getting them to Germany. Katherine, Amalia’s daughter, doesn’t know Amalia is her mother, but Deep 8 does and has threatened to harm them if she ever gives up the piece to anyone but them," he explains.

"Why don’t they come and get it? Why have us retrieve it if she has it? It doesn’t make any sense," Mac replies.

"That’s the part we can’t figure out. There must be more to it that we don’t know about," Roger says.

Beck interjects, "I’ll handle this by introducing myself as King Swinda and explaining the situation. If it comes from a royal, it might be more believable." He smiles as Declan rolls his eyes. "I’m very believable as a royal."

Amalia stands up and curtsies. "Your Highness. It’s nice to meet you."

Beck walks over and kisses her hand. "We have this under control. I promise you."

Beck and Declan leave the way they came, heading north to get Katherine and her family to safety before we execute our plan.

"Mac, Campbell, and Dean you can find a room and we’ll reconvene tomorrow morning with fresh eyes." I turn to Amalia, who’s gone a paler shade of pink, and hold her by the shoulders. "They’ll be fine. You have two of the top military men in the world keeping her safe. You’ll meet them in Germany when this is over."

Tears shine in her eyes. "I didn’t want her to find out this way, but her safety is more important. I’ll see you in the morning."

Morning comes sooner than my body is ready for. The small shift from last night has taken hold, and my determination is stronger than ever. I roll over, greeted by Roger lying on his back with tented sheets. I grab hold of my new favorite cigar and watch as he writhes in my hand.

"Baby, that feels so good," he moans.

His eyes are closed, and I’m not sure he’s awake. I might as well go all in. We could both use some relief before things get heavy. My legs fit perfectly on either side of his hips. His eyes pop open, and he smiles.

"Good morning," he sighs. "You are the best wife in the entire world."

My hips begin to move up and down. He grabs them and flips us over. "If there’s one thing I know, it’s never been like this with any of your other husbands. This is about you and me, surviving the past to live happily in the future."

He doesn’t give me a chance to answer as his lips crash down on mine. My doubts don’t have time to creep in. My heart doesn’t close shut. He seizes the moment. I’m wide open and vulnerable in ways I might not recover from, forging our souls, hearts, and minds. He’s tender, wild, and generous. I’m along for the ride, taking and giving what I can in this symphony of passion.

We become still together, our hearts beating, searching for the other’s rhythm. My fingers grip his shoulders, afraid to let go. The change I’ve encountered in the last twenty-four hours was beyond my control but necessary. I can’t let go. Then I remember my true mission and cold water douses the embers I sought to stoke. My fingers release him, and I push against him.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" His eyes show worry. He didn’t hurt me. He destroyed me, reaching into a place he didn’t belong.

I’ve lived with my guilt for years and we’re close companions, leaving no room for anyone else. We focus on our goal of saving lives and moving on. I have to put Roger on ice, even as the flames threaten to melt it away, leaving him at my doorstep.

"I’m fine." Anger laces my voice. The old me surfaces, the tip of the pickax wedged in the ice. My hands shake as I push him aside and run to the bathroom.

My two worlds collide, but saving people is my penance. I must pay for not being able to save Hope or my father. The success of this mission brings me one step closer to answers and avenging my father. Lucas may be on the losing end of this op, whether by my hand or Deep 8’s.