Page 32 of Covert Operation

I hate the thought of it. That’s why I’m struggling so much being around Sadie. “My sister expects me to stumble every time I try to move forward.” I sniff, hiding it behind an inhale. “She’s still hoping I’ll be the way I was before, so anything I do that’s not like the old Savannah upsets her.”

Zeke is quiet again, and I know it’s because he’s thinking. Deciding how to say what he wants to say. “It’s difficult for people to admit the person they love has changed forever.” Another long pause. “They want things to be as they were. Not just for themselves, but for the person who’s suffering too.”

I want so badly to ask him how he knows so much about this stuff, but Zeke doesn’t press me, so I won’t press him. “I know. But some days it just feels like a burden. An expectation I’m never going to meet.” I swallow hard, before admitting, “I’m never going to be the sister she knew before, and I don’t know how to tell her that.”

“Then maybe it’s a good thing you two will have some time apart,” Zeke says. “It will give you space.”

I’ve had the same guilty thought. Looked forward to the day I won’t have to worry about seeing my sister’s sympathy-filled face or listening to her tell me ‘it just takes time.’ As if there are enough hours left of my life for me to forget what happened. The weight of an unwanted body on mine. The smell of his breath. The sound of his grunts as I did my best to send my mind somewhere else.

They’re the same thoughts that pull me in over and over, dragging me down and back. Usually I fight them. Beat myself up for letting them even happen.

But maybe that’s the wrong approach. Maybe Zeke’s right and it’s okay to let myself take a step back. Regroup a little before soldiering on.

So I sit with it. Sit with the memories I’ve tried to suppress. Tried to smother out of existence.

And they’re not as consuming as I remembered. That could be because I’ve got to keep part of my brain focused on the road so we don’t crash, but I’m more inclined to think it’s because they’re less scary when I have a giant man who kills people right beside me. A man who takes me exactly as I am and sees me for what I’m becoming.

Zeke is so solid. So constant. So strong?—

My eyes drift to where he sits, looking completely acceptable in black tactical pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. But I know what hides under all that dark fabric. Not only how it looks, but also how it feels.

And that memory is more than strong enough to send the rest of the bad memories to the back of my mind where I prefer to keep them.

My fingers flex on the wheel, gripping a little tighter as I think about the way his skin felt under my hands. “I should probably take you back to headquarters.” I can clearly drive in the snow. I’m way better at it than keeping my wandering mind from remembering how Zeke inhaled when I accidentally brushed across his nipple.

“I can call someone to get me.” He suddenly seems so much bigger. His presence eating up all the space inside the Land Rover, leaving me breathless and flushed. “Go ahead and take us home.”

I blink as my brain stumbles over his wording.

Take us home.

I’ve been trying so hard to keep my thoughts about Zeke on the up and up. It shouldn’t be so difficult. He’s been nothing but respectful and thoughtful and gentlemanly. Allowing the less than chaste whispers trailing around my head to gain footing would be terrible of me.

Just as terrible as they way I’ve replayed the feel of his body over and over again.

“Okay,” I say, the single word wobbly as I imagine what Zeke will look like inside my home. What he’ll think when he sees the mess I’ve made of it.

A combination of excitement and fear twists my insides as I finish the drive to the neighborhood so many Alaskan Security employees call home. After passing through the gate, I follow the line of townhomes until I get to the one I purchased. The driveway’s shoveled thanks to the snow removal company that handles the road and sidewalks. I wonder if I can sweet talk them into clearing it off the SUV in the morning too…

After shifting into park, I shut off the engine and start to get out, but Zeke stops me. “Aren’t you going to park in the garage?”

Embarrassment heats my cheeks. “I can’t. It’s full of stuff.”

Zeke’s brows lift. “Full, full?”

I know I told him the movers put everything in the garage, but he must not have understood just how much there was. “Yeah. Full, full.” I dig into my purse and pull out the opener, pressing the button for the right bay. It lifts to reveal a mostly solid wall of furniture and boxes. The left bay looks exactly the same, so I don’t bother opening that side.

Zeke stares at the open garage for a minute before turning to me. “You can’t park in the driveway, Savannah.”

I shrug it off. “It’ll be fine. I’ll just let the car warm up for a while before I get in.”

Zeke’s hard gaze stays leveled on me. “No.”

I open my mouth to argue back, but Zeke’s already out of the vehicle, rounding the front to open my door.

He tips his head toward the garage. “Come on. This is going to take a while.”

FOURTEEN

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