Page 9 of Tactical Lies

Best friends since college, Izzy had stuck by her through thick and thin and was one of the co-founders of the CMC Project, named after her son. They’d worked together in four countries over the last seven years and shared the same small hut in Cambodia.

“I’m fine, Izzy, go back to sleep,” she assured her friend even as she fought back the tears.

“You're not fine. He shouldn’t have come. Want me to go find where he is and beat him up for you?” Izzy offered.

The image of tiny four foot eleven Isabella beating up six foot two Connor made her laugh. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need him beaten up. I don’t need him anything. He’s nothing to me anymore.”

Still as she hobbled toward the door to their hut, needing some fresh air, Becca knew that wasn't really true. Despite her anger toward Connor, a part of her heart and soul would always belong to him. He’d been such a big part of her life for too long to just amputate him and make it like he’d never existed.

Dropping to the ground once she was far enough away from the hut, Becca curled in on herself as the tears she’d tried to hold back ever since Connor had popped up flooded down her cheeks, and a sob broke free.

She did need something from Connor.

She needed him to disappear.

To stay out of her life.

To leave her alone.

Because his presence would destroy her.

Chapter

Three

August 17th

5:31 A.M.

Connor hadn't slept a wink.

It seemed the people in the village were protective of their schoolteacher and nobody he’d asked had allowed him to sleep on their property, not even in a barn. The weather was warm, and he’d found a reasonably comfortable spot close to the tiny house where Becca lived with her friend Isabella. It wasn't sleeping outdoors that had prevented him from sleeping, in his years as a SEAL and working for Prey he’d slept in plenty worse places.

Knowing that Becca was so close and yet he couldn’t go to her was the cause.

For years, he’d dreamed of her, ached for her, beaten himself up for what he’d done, wished like he’d never wished before that he could go back and redo that night. The distance between them had always hurt him, but there had been nothing he could do about it.

Now she was so close.

It made it so much worse.

If he didn't know that going to her was only going to make things worse, he would be there, by her side, doing anything she required of him to earn back her heart.

Which was all he’d ever wanted.

One moment where stress had gotten the best of him had ruined everything. Not that he was making excuses for his behavior. Just because he’d been holding all his emotions about Becca’s assault and trauma inside for four months and they’d suddenly exploded out when he’d been unable to hold them in a second longer, didn't make it okay.

Nothing made it okay to hurt the people you love.

And he hadn't just hurt Becca.

He’d destroyed something in her.

Something he was desperate to put back together. If she let him. And he was pretty sure she had no intention of giving him that chance.

As he watched, she left her small house, her head down and arms wrapped around her stomach. She looked so small and fragile, but he knew looks could be deceiving. His Becca had always had a big heart, sometimes too big, a dead baby bird, a worm trapped on the concrete in the sun, another child getting in trouble in class, and so many more hurt her heart. She included everyone, she was the kid who welcomed in the new child in class, who stood up for those being bullied, who was a friend to everyone.

Watching her curl in on herself after her assault had been painful.

---