Authors: Kimberley Woodhouse
And that little girl's mom . . .
Jenna.
She made him want to fight.
With her.
And
for
her. Made him feel everything a man
needed
to feel.
For cryin' out loud, he'd kissed the woman! What was he thinking? Now she'd never trust him again. Not after she knew the truth.
As he gazed out the window of the hospital room into the predawn sky, he raked his hands through his hair. The wee hours of the morning were not a good time for this. His heart ached. It was his own fault. He never should've let them in. Caring always led to pain. The proof was inside of him—the twisting and turning in his gut like a knife slicing through him.
He walked back to Jenna's bed. Better to just get this over with. "We all met at Fort Richardson. About fourteen years ago."
"Who's 'we all'?" Jenna pushed the controls on the bed lifting her up. Her eyes narrowed.
"Marcus, me, Hank, Lee, Austin, and several others." He sat down in the chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. Clasping his hands, he bowed his head and stared at the floor. He couldn't look into her eyes right now. Couldn't bear to see the pain he was about to inflict.
"So, about the time Marc was getting out?" Her voice now held an edge to it.
"Yeah. About a year before we all supposedly got out."
"
Supposedly?
Exactly what are you saying?"
Staring down at his hands, the words churned inside. Like a volcano erupting within him, he couldn't stop it.
He looked at Jenna. Pleaded with her to understand. "Lee was a genius. He knew we all had unique skills and that we could form a team to do jobs for the government. Our intention from the beginning was to make the world a better place. Make our country stronger, less vulnerable. And for a long time, that's what we did. We were still part of the army. Albeit secretly. And then 9/11 happened. It hit us like a ton of bricks, changed us all in ways we never imagined. But we resolved to work harder. And we remained a team."
Memories of those years pushed to the front of his mind. He'd felt whole, complete, when they were on a mission. Like he could conquer anything. And then he'd lost Amanda and Chloe. Nothing was ever the same again.
"So you're saying my husband lied to me? He didn't actually get out of the army?" The stiff set of her shoulders made him want to run. Now. First time he'd ever wanted to run from a fight. But she didn't want to believe him. He was ruining the memory of a man she'd loved for a long time.
One look at her face told him the truth.
She still loved Marc.
Cole walked to the end of Jenna's hospital bed and dared a look into her eyes. "It was top secret, Jenna. None of us could talk about it."
"But I don't understand." Her shoulders drooped. "We were so close . . ." Jenna's voice drifted off as she turned away.
"It's not what you think—"
"Don't bother telling me what I think, Cole. You have no idea . . ." A single tear slipped down her cheek. "Just don't bother. Please, go on."
He watched her for several moments. The firm set of her jaw told him to back off, even though her words contradicted. The urgency of their situation won out and made him press forward. "Eventually, Lee's focus started to change. We excelled at what we did, each man with his own unique abilities and specialties. Each mission became more dangerous. The stakes constantly raised. But it soon became evident that Lee had become disgruntled with our superiors. Decided it was better for us to be a separate entity. Decided he wanted to make more money. Those of us who were lower in rank didn't know the extent of the changes he put in place. Our military service was important to us. We took pride in it. But questions started popping up in my mind. The people we came in contact with were not cut from the same cloth as before. It all seemed a bit too . . . shady."
Jenna's eyes popped open and bore into his. "What are you trying to say, Cole?" She sat motionless, her brow furrowed, knuckles white as they gripped the edges of the bed.
"Only Lee, Hank, and Marc knew the truth about our new operations. But several of us began to speculate. The money rolled in, and our Army brothers looked at us differently." His hands clenched into fists. "All those years wasted! Years of honorable service to our country. Years of upholding freedom. Years of doing what was right—gone. Do you hear me? Gone!"
"What do you mean Marc knew? What are you trying to say? That my husband was doing something illegal?" She threw him a murderous glare. "Well, I'm not going to let you defame him! Marc was a good man. He was a Christian! How dare you accuse him of underhanded . . . whatever it is you're saying. What does this have to do with the guys trying to kill us? What about the
bad guys,
Cole?" Her lips formed one single, grim line. Defense mode.
But her eyes betrayed her. Jenna had been suspicious of Marc's work as well.
Cole hated what he was about to do. To all of them. But it had to be done.
Moment of truth.
"Jenna, I know this is hard to understand. Like you said, your husband was a genius with computers. I don't know when or how things changed, but . . ."
She was shaking her head. Denying it. Like she knew what was coming.
"Marc worked
with
those 'bad guys,' as you call them." He faced her, head on. "We all did."
ANDIE
April 12
Providence Hospital
Anchorage, Alaska
7:10 a.m.
What?
Cole's voice pierced the curtain between Mom's bed and mine like a lion pouncing on its prey.
Cole Maddox, you did not just call my dad a criminal!
I slammed my fist onto the bed, pushing myself up into a sitting position. I threw back the curtains and two sets of eyes darted toward me.
"What did you just say?" My voice cracked.
"Andie, we didn't know you were—"
"I can't believe you just called my dad a criminal!" No amount of changing the subject could get him out of this one.
Cole's lips thinned. He didn't take it back.
"My dad was the greatest man on earth. I can't believe you, who
knew
him, would even think such a thing!"
"Andie, Cole didn't mean—"
"No." I threw back the covers and glared at him. "Cole Maddox, you take those words back, and you take them back right now! My dad was the best man to ever live!"
Cole looked hurt, and I could feel my eyes burn. I wanted to strangle him . . . and to strangle him good.
My hand flew down to my IV, I ripped it off and jumped up.
"Andie!"
I ran over to Cole. Standing face to face with him I clenched my fist. "I can't believe I ever trusted you!"
Cole reached for my arm but I jerked back. "Get away . . . you monster!" The room began to spin, I staggered, lost my balance, and then fell onto the floor, smacking my forehead against the cold tile.
Mom yelled something, but I couldn't hear or see anything but Cole. And my rage.
He rushed over.
"I . . . I've been so blind to trust you." Tears ran down my cheeks. I tried to hold them back. Nothing in my body seemed to work. "You made me trust you! You made me think you would always be there!" The sobs got quicker, worse.
I jumped up. I couldn't see where I was going.
Why is everything spinning?
My head felt like a ton of bricks and then a feather. Why wouldn't it stay attached properly? Something gooey ran down the side of my head.
I'm bleeding?
Cole stood in front of me holding my shoulders in a firm grip. He was talking to me. Saying something important.
But I didn't—couldn't—listen.
"Andie, calm down!"
No, I won't!
"Get away from me!" My brain went fuzzy again. All I could see was Cole, and all that registered was the urge to strike him for harming my family.
Before I knew what was happening, my arms and legs were aimed at him.
I took a swing, but slipped on the floor and fell, crashing into machinery. A sharp feeling shot through my head. Sliding to the floor I no longer tried to restrain the tears. My hair was plastered to my face and something liquidy dripped down my chin.
Cole's warm hand rested on my back. "Squirt, shh . . . Calm down. It's okay. You're hurt, let me check your head."
The warmth of his hand on my cheek calmed my racing mind. A glance into his eyes showed concern . . . I couldn't let him deceive me again.
I sniffed and my back tensed as I shoved him away.
He leaned closer and caressed my shoulder. "Andie, I wasn't insulting your dad." His hand returned to rubbing my back. "Look at me. I need to check you."
I shrugged his hand off. "No . . ." My breaths came in gasps. "I don't care what excuses you make. You betrayed us, Cole!" My voice rose with every word.
"Andie—"
"Just get
away
from me!" I jumped up and tried to run around him, but still not able to see.
He grabbed my arm.
"Let me go . . ." The plea was followed by gut-wrenching sobs. My tears fell faster and I jerked my arm away.
"Andie, stop!"
I screamed and pulled away from Cole's grip. Fuzziness and floating objects surrounded me. Pain shot through my head.
Something slammed against the wall.
"What's going on?" Familiar and stern, the voice echoed off the walls.
Auntie Anesia?
Was I swerving or was that the room?
"Andie!" Someone ran over and yanked me away from Cole. "What do you think you're doing, mister?"
Zoya?
"Anesia, go get the doctor, the call button's not working." Mom's voice quivered.
Zoya's arms wrapped around me.
What's going on? What's wrong with me?
Machines and alarms blared. Or were my ears just ringing?
Soon Auntie Anesia came back with the doctor at her heels. Why was my vision getting blurry again? Was there fog in the room?
Cole stood against the back wall. Shock filled his face.
God?
The tingles started to race up my back and my cheeks began to burn.
"Andie?" Mom's voice floated over to me but I couldn't focus. "She's overheating, we need to get her cool!"
"What happened?" I could feel the doctor checking my head as his gruff voice demanded an answer. People started talking, but I couldn't hear the words.
My heart still raced and my soul cried out in pain.
Spots and that crazy tunnel hearing.
Darkness.
JENNA
April 12
Providence Hospital
Anchorage, Alaska
7:18 a.m.
The nurse replaced the IV in her unconscious daughter's arm.
Jenna's hands shook and her heart raced. Andie had smashed her head twice while raging against Cole. There'd been no warning. No slow simmer of her feelings until they boiled to the surface.
Jenna had no clue that Andie could lose it like that. Her beautiful, sweet, laughing child had turned into a raging ball of fury in defense of her dad. Jenna wanted to react the same way, but that niggling doubt at the back of her mind told her there might be truth to Cole's words. Hadn't she seen Marc slipping away? Seen his love for money? His constant drive to be the best?
The nurse wiped down Andie's face. The gash in her eyebrow was long and bleeding. Poor kid. Nobody should have to deal with all this at twelve years old. Jenna's heart ached for her beautiful child.
Andie only wanted to defend her father. The memories they had of Marc were good. If only Marc hadn't gotten himself involved in this mess.
No. Marc was a good and honest man. He'd poured himself into their family. Sure, they'd undergone some horrific trials. That could change anyone, couldn't it? And he really didn't care about the money, he just wanted to provide for them. He always wanted the best for his family.
What about Amy? What about the phone calls? The long trips?
She gripped her head. The taunting always came at the worst time. That nasty voice wanted her to believe that Marc wasn't faithful to her. That he was an awful man. Who deserted his family.
No. No. No.
No!
Marc couldn't have been involved with any evil, greedy men. Andie had a right to defend her dad. And Jenna really needed to focus her energy on her daughter right now.
But what if they were wrong? What if Marc really
was
responsible for what had happened in the plane, on the mountain?
"Jenna, we're going to take Andie down to the ER for cleanup and stitches." Dr. Baker stood over her, interrupting her swarming thoughts. "You all look like you need some space to sort things out." She didn't miss the look he shot toward Cole.
Jenna nodded at him, noting the worry etched in his wrinkled brow. "But—"
The doctor leaned a little closer. He'd known them since Andie was born, and didn't hesitate to cut her off. "Might I suggest a psych consult? You all have been through an enormous amount of stress."
"I really don't think that's necessary, Dr. Baker."
"What if I bring someone up to the room tomorrow? Just to talk things through? It won't be official, I promise."
"Fine. Whatever. But I reserve the right to ask him or her to leave, all right?" No matter how well the man thought he knew them, he really didn't have a clue. No way would she allow anyone to grill her daughter for a stinkin' psycho evaluation.
The doctor nodded. "Agreed."
"I'd also like you to be present."
The doctor quirked an eyebrow at her. "You aren't going to make this easy, are you, Jenna?"
"Not if I can help it." She stared down at the blankets, pretending to smooth out the wrinkles. "Now, I would like to go with my daughter."
"I'm afraid that's not possible this time. There's not enough room for the two beds, and it would be too much trouble to move you and all the equipment."
The ever-faithful, ever-quiet Zoya spoke up. "Can I go with her?"
The doctor glanced back at Jenna. "I think we can make an allowance this once."
"Sure, hon. She'll need you." Jenna pasted on a smile. Jenna loved Zoya as if she were her own flesh and blood, and knew Zoya's heart hurt for her friend. "Please, don't let anyone else near her, okay?"