Surrender the Dark (12 page)

“Twenty-four.”

Rae shook her head, not as shocked as she should have been. After all, she’d worked for the man. She knew what he was capable of. She’d thought him to be in his mid to late thirties—he looked it—but she knew JMI had been in existence less than ten years. That meant he was closer to her own age of thirty. Thirty-two tops. She knew how the business she’d been in could age a person.

“Pretty impressive,” was all she said.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle. Yet he suddenly looked immensely tired, unbearably so. It went beyond the price he was paying for being overactive that day. This was the sort of tired that went soul-deep.

It hit her then, the magnitude of the real mission this man had taken on, the burden he’d willingly accepted and made his own.

“How do you do it, Jarrett?” she asked softly. “How do you keep going? Doesn’t the endlessness of it ever get to you? Doesn’t the fact that while you’re preventing one crazy bastard from killing hundreds or thousands of people, there is another one out there somewhere else committing another atrocity on other human beings?”

He slid his foot off the hassock and leaned forward,
his gray eyes open all the way down to his soul. She shivered at the cold emptiness that lay there.

“Yes,” he answered. “From the time I was fourteen until two days ago, I’ve thought of nothing else.”

She was riveted by the palpable darkness in his words, the stark request for her to understand what she couldn’t possibly understand.
Why?
she wanted to ask, suddenly desperate to know what really drove him. There was so much there—pain, frustration, desire, commitment, determination.

She trembled with the realization that a man who’d dedicated the totality of those emotions to the huge and complex task of solving world problems was probably inherently incapable of devoting the same intensity of caring to just one person.

But, Lord oh Lord, if he ever did.

For the first time she understood why he’d read her report and calmly asked her if she wanted her job back. Why he hadn’t shown any emotion.

If he let himself feel, even at the most basic level, for one person, he’d be worthless to the thousands he considered to be under his care and protection.

Rae’s heart pounded and breathing became difficult. As she stared at Jarrett feelings of respect and admiration and awe combined with the heady desire she had for him to put her in a state of jeopardy she’d never before encountered.

She could heal him, give him the rest and solace she still believed he deserved, believed he needed. But giving in to the feelings whirling inside her, giving in to him,
letting him open that part of himself any further, would not only destroy her, it would destroy him.

She tore her gaze from his, ducked her head to hide the tears that burned her eyes. For the first time in many, many months she felt ashamed. Ashamed that she’d given up when Jarrett had kept going, ashamed that even now, she would rather selfishly convince him to stay here with her than let him go back to the world she’d so narrowly escaped.

She was faced now with the last decision she’d ever wanted to make—reentering that world. But how could she not? It was the one thing she
could
do for him. The only thing that would let him walk away whole.

Her stomach knotted painfully as she fought to keep her demons at bay. Her head pounded, as if her skull was tightening, and she wasn’t too certain she wasn’t about to be sick. She fought it with everything she had. Just as she fought the self-protective instincts that commanded her to run hard and fast from the commitment she was about to make. It didn’t make any difference anymore that it would destroy her. She knew now that she wouldn’t emerge from this intact, no matter how it ended.

“Zach is a thrill seeker by profession, Rae,” Jarrett said, his steady voice breaking into the maelstrom of emotions whirling through her mind and body. “He can devise a plan into and out of Bhajul that no one would ever imagine, or trace. I’ll set up the delivery. But you have to be the one to go in. You’re the only one I can trust now and the only one trained to do it. I won’t do anything to jeopardize you unnecessarily.”

Rae began to shake.
What was she about to do?
She was insane. Wrapping her hands tightly around her arms, she looked at Jarrett, who was now leaning back in his chair, waiting for her to respond.

The irony of his words sank in, and she choked back an almost hysterical urge to laugh. Her lips twisted in what must have been a travesty of a smile. “How things change,” she said, unable to hide the sarcasm, needing the harsh shield it provided against the panic rising in her. “Two years ago you were willing to believe I betrayed you, and now I’m the only one you can trust. If there is a God, surely he is having a great laugh over this final irony.”

Jarrett said nothing. He didn’t have to. Rae understood that, better now than she ever had before.

A snort of laughter, hard and empty and cold, erupted from her before she could clamp down on it. “I guess you have nothing to fear this time. You know who the mole is. One of them at least. And no matter what happens to me, at least you can rest easy knowing I’m clean.”

“Rae, don’t.”

She waited for the anger, the blessed fury that would let her rail at him, vent the fear rapidly consuming her despite her mocking stance. It didn’t come. Her breathing slowed, the panic receded. Her mind cleared and focused inward.

She looked at Jarrett and calmly said, “I understand that when the courier who framed me fed you misinformation about me, you had to consider it. No one is above corruption. I understand that my disappearance
during what seemed to be an airtight transfer that you yourself had devised seemed suspicious at the very least. That there was no real way to determine if I’d been taken hostage, or willingly gone over to the other side.”

She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “But that was in my head. In here”—she pressed her fist to her chest—“in my heart, I believed you knew I’d never betray JMI, betray you. You were my family. You were all I had.” She took a deep breath and sat back. “I do understand, McCullough. Better now than I did then. It’s business. But I can’t return to that world.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Rae flinched at the sincerity and pain he’d managed to infuse into those two unexpected words. She made a sharp movement with her hand, cutting off anything further he might say. The decision was made. She couldn’t let him in now. She drew in a deep breath and took the final step. “So, what’s the plan? When do we make our move?”

Jarrett tensed. “What did you say?”

“When do we make our move?”

He shook his head. “Pardon me if I seem confused, but didn’t you just get done telling me—”

“I just wanted to make it clear before we got down to business that I’m not coming back in. I’ll do this, for reasons of my own.”
For you
, she thought, but would never say.
So you can carry on the job I can no longer do. Because you still need to.
“But then I’m out. And I don’t ever want to be contacted in any way, ever again.” She looked him squarely in the eye. “No matter what’s at stake. So, do we have a deal?”

Jarrett stared at her long and hard, trying to see behind her emotionless words. She was shaking, yet seemed perfectly still at the same time. Her rigid posture didn’t hide the fact that her eyes were swimming with fears and memories he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“When do we make our move?” she repeated.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to forget it. He’d find some other way, any other way. But he already knew there was no other way. Why in the hell was she doing this? Why in the hell was he going to let her?

He sighed and slumped down in the chair, suddenly so damn weary he wasn’t sure he could go on. Her reasons were no concern of his. And he wasn’t going to stop her because, after all, he’d just gotten what he wanted. Right? The success of the mission was all-important.

So why did he feel like he’d just lost the only really important thing he’d ever had?

“First thing in the morning,” he said, his voice flat.

“Fine.” She rose from the couch, her motions stiff and awkward. “I know it’s early, but it’s been a long day. I’m going to turn in for the night.”

He pushed himself out of the chair, welcoming the increased throb of pain in his leg and ribs. Still it was no match for the dark ache centered deep in his chest. “Fine.”

He waited for her to lead the way, but she simply stood in front of the small couch. Finally, he motioned with his hand.

She nodded to the couch. “You’re standing in my bedroom.”

Feeling a hot flush creep up his neck and something like shame crawl into his belly, Jarrett ducked his head and limped around the couch to the doorway. He put as much space between them as possible. He knew it was pointless to offer to take the couch, simply because he wouldn’t fit. She’d fight him on any other suggestion, too, and he wasn’t up to fighting with her. He wasn’t about to put her through anything else that night.

He stopped at the hall. “I’m sorry I’ve kicked you out of your bed.” As he said the words he realized that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. “No guest room upstairs, I take it.”

She turned to face him, her hands still clutching protectively at her arms. “I never planned on having any.”

“Rae—” He broke off, needing desperately to say something to her and knowing that anything he came up with would likely only make things worse. He hadn’t felt this inadequate since he was fourteen and had realized that his father, the only parent he’d ever known, was never coming back.

He turned his head away, took one last look out the huge window at her mountain. If only things were different. If only …

He barely heard his own sigh. A fool’s wish.

Her soft intake of breath jerked his gaze back to her.

“What?” he demanded.

“For a moment there you looked so—” She stopped abruptly, as if she hadn’t actually meant to speak.

“So what, Rae?”

After a long moment she looked away. “Nothing. Good night, McCullough.”

McCullough.
God how he hated that. He had already taken several steps in her direction when he realized what he was doing and stopped. What had she seen when she’d looked at him? What had he revealed? It was all he could do to remain still and silent.

He wasn’t going to find out. He wasn’t going to go anywhere near her. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.

Pain that had nothing to do with his injuries welled up inside him. When the tension began to be unbearable, he finally found his voice. “Good night, Rae,” he said quietly, and left while he still could.

Rae took small comfort in the fact that McCullough looked as tired as she felt the following morning. The pup had kept her up all night with his whining. She’d understood how the little guy felt, and had contemplated joining him more than once.

McCullough was already seated at the table in the kitchen with two steaming mugs in front of him. He slid one over to her as she sat down. She noticed he’d taken the bandage off his hand.

He hadn’t showered yet. His T-shirt was rumpled as if he’d slept in it, and his short dark hair was standing out as if he’d spent the entire night raking his fingers through it. She caught herself staring at his stubbled jaw and weary eyes a second or two longer than necessary,
and dropped her attention to the brown depths of her coffee.

“I need to contact some people about the wolf pup,” she said after a moment. “It’s not fair to him to keep him here much longer. The National Zoo has a compound not too far from here where they quarantine animals and do research.”

Jarrett looked up at her with honest interest. “Maybe that’s where its mother came from in the first place.”

“Its mother?” Rae stared at him in surprise, then suspicion. “When I tracked, I didn’t see any signs of another animal.”

“It was at least five miles from here. And don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled. “I didn’t kill her.” He didn’t add that it was only because the she-wolf had beat him to it, nor did he mention his original plans for the pup. One look in her eyes told him it was unnecessary anyway. “In the same position, you’d have done the same thing.”

“Two years ago, yes. Today, I don’t know.”

The weight of the decision she’d made the night before crashed in on him without warning. He’d spent most of the night shoring up his resolve. They weren’t lovers, or even friends. They were professionals, dammit. And that was how he’d make certain they behaved, even if it killed him.

“Well, I damn well hope that if it comes down to getting the information across or saving some animal, your priorities will be straight on this one, Gannon.”

She looked him dead in the eye and made him feel every bit like the complete bastard he was being. “I said
I would do this for you. Don’t you dare question my priorities.”

I said I would do this for you. For you …

Her words echoed in his head, taunting him to stray from the strict mental path he’d put himself on. The temptation to read all sorts of things into those words was almost overwhelming. Maintaining the hard-line position was a must now more than ever. Especially when he was having such a difficult time restraining himself from reaching across the table and smoothing the tangled hair from her face. He wanted to pull her into his arms, onto his lap, where he could console her, soothe her, promise her he’d never let her go, never let her put herself in danger again.

“No contact with the zoo,” he said, ignoring her outburst. “No outsiders. No undue attention to you or this area. Not with two killers this close.”

“Whoever comes to pick him up won’t have to enter the house or even know that you’re here. I’ll tell them an alternate version of the truth. I found him wandering in the woods and brought him in.” She folded her arms on the table and leaned toward him. “You can’t release him back to the wild now. You might as well put a gun to his head.”

Jarrett said nothing.

Rae stared at him for several seconds, then finally sighed in disgust and pushed away from the table. As she stood she said, “I’ll do my part. But that pup didn’t ask to be involved in this any more than I did. I made my choice. And since he apparently has little worth to you, I’ll make his choice for him. Make your plans, do what
you have to, but make sure he’s taken care of until I get back and can contact the proper authorities.”