The Asset (10 page)

“You knew that?” I drew on my soda. “You understood the difference?”

He nodded. “The mission was the most important thing in my life. In between missions, it was just R & R.”

“Wow,” I said. “That shrink you saw today is a magician.”

He grinned. “Maybe you ought to talk to her.”

“She’d have to be a miracle worker to set me straight,” I said, “and even then, I’d still be weird and eccentric.”

“Weird and eccentric is cool,” Ash said. “I could dig weird and eccentric.”

The butterflies in my stomach were off like racing greyhounds and I had little hope to cram them back into the starting gate. And then I remembered a dead man hanging from a gate, a puddle of blood growing at his feet. Just because he’d talked to me.

“What’s the matter?” Ash said. “Did I say something wrong? You’ve got the
look
.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re about to bolt.”

“No, no.” I pushed the horrible image out of my mind. “I’m fine, fine and amazed at your grand understanding of all things deep.”

“If you really have to know,” he said. “I’d rather forget my ex.”

I waved my hand in the air. “Erased, moving on.”

He laughed and I smiled like a fool.

“My turn again,” I said. “Inasmuch as I have a lot of respect for the Marines, I’m pretty sure you’re more than your average major.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re not just a foulmouthed, empty-headed hunk either.”

His split eyebrow rose. “You think I’m a hunk?”

“You strive to hide it behind that cranky charade, but I’m not fooled. You’re also well educated. Your grandmother told me you went to grad school and you’ve been sending me to buy
The Wall Street Journal
for you every day.”

“So?” he said. “A guy can’t be interested in the economy?”

“Gunny Watkins said that you were a highly trained asset and a big-ticket investment.” I plucked the straw out of my drink and, splashing soda all over the table, pointed it in his direction. “You’re a Krav Maga expert. Your powers of observation are impressive. I think you’re some sort of special operations kind of guy. Am I right?”

“How about we make a deal?” He stared at me for a little too long. “I tell you a bit about myself and you tell me about your troubles.”

I twisted on the straw until it broke. “I just...can’t.”

A whimper echoed from under the table. Neil’s face popped up by my side. Ash’s eyes shifted from the dog to the crumpled straw in my hands to my face.

“Something—or someone,” he said in an exacting tone, “has frightened the hell out of you. There’s the shotgun and the fact that you jump ten feet high every time someone comes to the door. You dress like that when you go out of town and you train like a soldier. You’re not on the wanted or missing lists—”

I gasped. “You looked?”

“If you haven’t noticed,” he said, “I’m a thorough kind of a guy.”

“More like scary.”

“The fact that you’re not on the lists tells me that whoever you fear doesn’t want anyone else to know they’re looking for you.”

Out. I needed out. I looked over my shoulder and fought an urge to run for the door. Neil laid his paw on my lap and licked my hand.

“You’ve got no knickknacks.” He kept going like a bulldozer without brakes. “You’ve got no references to your past anywhere in the cottage, no pictures, no mementos, nothing. You never talk about the past. You own very little, your work clothes and the bare essentials. A quick look at your keychain redefines the meaning of self-defense. And then, of course, there’s the go bag. Very thorough. Well conceived.”

My lungs deflated like punctured balloons. “Go bag?”

“It couldn’t be anything other than an escape bag,” Ash said. “A backup prepaid cell, a hundred bucks, two wigs, a few sets of high-quality fake IDs. Those are impressive, by the way. Want to tell me where and how you got them?”

God almighty.

Neil thrust his big head between my hands and tried to lick my face.

“Stop it, boy, she should be able to handle truth every once in a while.” Ash pulled on the leash before aiming his stare back on me. “I must congratulate you on the disguise concept. It’d be hard for anyone to think of you as a boy, never mind a hipster type. It could work.”

My fingers clawed under the table. My nails sank into my thighs. I knew he’d gone through the kitchen cabinets. I suspected he’d looked elsewhere, as well. But my go bag? My jaw ached from clenching it. Who the hell did he think he was?

“You have no idea what you’re meddling in.”

“My point exactly,” he said. “Care to enlighten me?”

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to accuse him of interfering with my plans and endangering my life and—oh, by the way—his, since he was living with me. Mine wasn’t a great life, it might even be a poor excuse for a life, but it was the best life I’d known, and it was
my
life, something I’d never take for granted.

“See?” He shook his head. “You leave me to figure out things all on my own. How else will I be able to minimize risk factors and establish factual operational parameters?”

“Listen to yourself.” I squeezed my temples and kept my voice down. “Are you even speaking English? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t ask questions and you won’t tell me who you fear or why,” he fired back. “What other option did you leave me?”

“You want options?” I said. “How about leaving my stuff alone and minding your own business?”

“I tried.” He had the gall to look chastened. “Would you believe me if I said I tried?”

“No.” I pushed my chair back and, bracing my hands and leaning forward, faced Ash across the table. “I’ve tried to warn you. But you’re choosing not to listen. Let me be clear. People die when they associate with me, people suffer. You got that?”

I pushed away from the table and, sidestepping Neil, stormed out of the restaurant. The German shepherd barked and tried to follow me.

“I know, boy.” Ash’s voice trailed after me. “She’s upset.”

I shoved the door out of my way and made it onto the sidewalk.
Steady. Breathe. Cope.
My stomach ached, my teeth hurt from grinding and fury colored the world with a red haze. But my bluster was for naught. Ash had the keys to the truck and I didn’t have any other way home. Even though he eventually followed me, I had to wait for him to pay the bill.

I paced around the truck in the parking lot. My life must seem absurd to him. Had the situation been reversed, I would have been curious too. But the monster that stalked me had an IQ in the genius range, the looks, charm and sensibilities of a global tycoon, and the soul of a cold-blooded killer. The combination made him lethal to me, dangerous to his enemies and immune to justice, especially considering his multibillion-dollar cash flow. Nobody, not even his fiercest and most able opponents, had ever managed to best him, which is why my only alternative was to run like hell whenever I sensed he was getting near. He’d killed men for just looking at me. I might be furious with Ash at the moment, but I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

When he finally came out of the restaurant with Neil on the leash, he opened the door of the truck for me, before limping around and taking his place in the driver’s seat. I flashed him a glare before I buckled my seat belt, crossed my arms and fixed my gaze out the window. Neil jumped in the backseat and settled, caramel eyes shifting between us.

“I’m sorry,” Ash said, driving out of the parking lot. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“Just let it be.”

“How about we establish some new communication parameters?”

I frowned. “Do you always speak like that or is it just me?”

“We can agree that certain parts of our lives are classified,” he explained, braking at a red light. “You set your terms. I set mine. But beyond that, we can talk about the rest.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because we’re two human beings living together?” he said. “Because we’re friends? Because we’re both trying to get better?”

“I’m not sick,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

He flashed me a glance. “Are you sure about that?”

I met his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“That anybody who lives through a traumatic experience can suffer from PTSD.”

The anxiety. The fear. The nightmares. The fact that my world wobbled on the hinge of my nerves like a fragile crystal globe liable to shatter at any time. Was he right?

“You know, Lia,” he offered as the light turned green and he pressed his foot to the accelerator. “We can’t operate out of fear. We must operate out of our strengths. We all have to make an effort to get better.”

Easier said than done. “You think?”

“Hell, that’s what the shrink told me today, which reminds me, do you mind if I stop by the grocery store?”

“You want to go to the grocery store?” I eyed him in disbelief. “The big giant one, here in town?”

“I don’t want to go,” he said. “But I need to do it. Besides, I live with a woman who feeds exclusively on air and sugary cereals. Remember?”

Once again, I didn’t want to sabotage his efforts to get better, or mine, maybe, if I accepted everything he said. I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

He pulled into the parking lot, parked the truck and turned off the ignition, but he didn’t get out. He stared at the store, at the neon sign flashing above the door and at all those people, streaming in and out. Neil rested his chin on Ash’s shoulder. My stomach tightened into a knot. In my own way, I knew how Ash felt.

“Sorry if I pressed you too hard.” Ash’s fingers wrapped around the wheel. “Sometimes, when I’m fixed on something, I can be such a jerk. Now I feel like I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“You were right,” he said. “In addition to being a marine, I am—was—” His Adam’s apple bounced on his throat. “Hell, I don’t know what I am anymore—I guess I’m in limbo. But before I got wounded, I was a navy SEAL.”

The words came out of his mouth softly, reverently. I got a glimpse of his anguish. It erased any traces of residual anger in me and reset me into my caregiver role. He didn’t know if he could be the person he was before again. He didn’t know if he could exist as someone else either. If anyone in the universe understood his predicament, it was me.

“Did your grandmother know?” I asked.

“Yes, but we decided it would be better if we didn’t tell anyone else.”

“Do you think you’ll go back?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if they’ll want me now, lame and all...”

I hesitated. “You don’t have to stand the pain, you know.”

“I do if I want the foot and I need the foot if I’m going back.” He gave me a half shrug.

“I saw several guys at the hospital wearing prosthetic limbs,” I said. “They seem to be getting along fine. You saw the doctor. And I met this woman today. Her husband lost both legs and his sight. Despite all of that, they’re getting ready to have a baby.”

“She must be someone really special,” Ash said.

“Maybe he’s the one who’s really special.”

He gave me a probing stare.

“Look, I’m no expert at this, but you have options,” I said. “You don’t have to hurt.”

“Lia, don’t.” He grappled for words. “You’ve been living with me lately. Can you imagine me in a wheelchair for weeks—months—at a time? Can you see me crippled for good, an invalid, depending on strangers for everything? I’d be a total jackass, unbearable, much worse than I’ve been lately, a wretched, miserable ass.”

“You can be a little testy at times, but you’re not so bad.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I could stand it.”

“It’d be a temporary situation.”

“Who the hell knows for sure?”

Pain gleamed in his stare. His brow wrinkled and the lines of his mouth tightened, making him look older, grimmer. All that sadness clobbered me. How could I, of all people, console the inconsolable?

Well, at least I had to try.

I wet my parched lips. “You’re one of the strongest, most determined people I know.”

“Then you’ve been hanging around with losers all your life.”

He was probably right on that one, but I stood my ground. “You’re smart, skilled and disciplined. You’re the original overachiever. Whatever goal you set your mind to, you will reach it.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

“What if the best is yet to come?”

“Jesus, Lia, that’s a huge cliché and you know it.”

“Well?” I said. “What if it’s true? What if the life you haven’t lived yet holds as much adventure, challenge and satisfaction as your old life did? What if the future holds the same, or even more, promise than your past? Wouldn’t you want to see the changes through if it gave you the chance to discover your alternative future?”

He rolled his eyes. “What if all of this talking is psychobabble or wishful thinking?”

“What if it isn’t?” I countered. “People get hurt all the time and they still have happy and productive lives, like that guy whose wife is having a baby.”

“He’ll never serve again,” Ash said somberly. “They won’t want him.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “But maybe he’ll be happy doing something else.”

He shrugged. “What if he doesn’t want to do anything other than what he did before?”

Ah, now we were getting at the crux of Ash’s worries. “Life is all about change. We all suffer. We all fail. We pick up the pieces and try again. We have to forget about the past and reinvent ourselves.”

He fixed his eyes on me. “Is that what you did?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes, that’s all there’s to do.”

“Well, at least you’re not denying your fucked-up truth, whatever that is.” He exhaled a long breath. “Do you want to come into the store or would you rather wait in the truck? You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to. It’s up to you.”

I considered the supermarket before me. I hadn’t been to one in ages. It was tempting, but there were a lot of people in there, not to mention a lot of cameras.

Was I being paranoid? Surely, after all this time, I could venture out for a few minutes. What were the chances that a random one-time stop at a supermarket could hurt?