Page 3 of Tactical Lies

It certainly couldn’t be her.

Of that she was certain.

Even though they had grown up together, her family living right across the street from his, playing together as small children, dating through high school, together through some of college, she knew that Connor was not the kind of man you trusted to be there when you needed him.

She’d thought he was.

Right after her assault, he’d been her rock. Staying by her side in the hospital, supporting her through surgeries, giving her everything she needed.

Until things got worse.

Then he bailed.

She would never forgive him for that.

But Connor was part of her past. It had been twelve years since they’d broken up, and in that last decade and a bit, she had grown and changed a lot. She’d banded together with a group of friends and started an aid agency that provided support to thousands of vulnerable people across Asia, something she was proud of. She’d fallen in love with another man and been engaged, only to lose him to a horrible car accident.

Becca had had a whole life without Connor, and she rarely thought of him anymore.

It was too painful.

Going back was the last thing she wanted to do, dredging up old memories she had worked so hard to deal with, it was too much. Already she’d lost the boy she thought she was going to spend her life with and the man who had captured the heart she’d thought was dead and brought it back to life.

As badly as she wanted to believe it wasn't really Connor closing the distance between them, she couldn’t.

It was him.

The why didn't matter, all that did was that she wasn't going to talk to him. She knew her struggles, knew her strengths and weaknesses, knew her triggers, and Connor ticked all those boxes. He was her greatest struggle, her greatest weakness, and her greatest trigger.

Seeing him, talking to him, interacting with him in any way was too much for her.

Ducking back inside the schoolhouse, Becca did what her old therapist would have rebuked her for. Lived in denial. Connor wasn't there. Connor wasn't there for her. Connor wasn't her problem anymore. Connor was nothing to her.

It had been over for such a long time that he shouldn’t hold any power over her anymore.

But he did.

Just a single glimpse of him told her he had way too much power over her despite the fact more than a decade had passed since they last saw one another.

Still, for now, denial it was. It was easier. Better for her blood pressure, too, than screaming at him. So, she went to work tidying up the small room. The kids did a good job of helping keep it clean, they were so excited about all their school supplies that they treated them like treasures. There were still things she could organize though, and that’s what she started doing.

However, her hands faltered when she heard the unmistakable sound of boots against the floor.

Not only was Connor in Cambodia but he was here in her schoolhouse.

A space that was supposed to be a safe one for her.

While her parents and sister would love for her to return home, they understood that her work kept her sane. It helped still the storm inside her. Over the years, she had learned to calm and keep it under control, but it was always there, simmering under the surface.

There was one surefire way to send it into a rage.

And it was currently standing behind her.

Tears blurred her vision as she sorted and re-sorted the papers on her desk. They were already organized but her hands needed to do something. It was either this or she wrapped them around that man’s neck and unleashed over a decade’s worth of pain and pent-up rage on him.

Definitely better to occupy them with busy work than to strangle Connor Charleston.

The last thing she wanted was legal trouble on her hands.

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