Page 49 of Code Name: Reaper
“I don’t know what to think. All I know is that I trusted you with information that’s probably gotten him killed.”
I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of the man who’d held me, kissed me, and told me he wanted more than sex. All I saw was barely controlled rage.
“I would never—” My voice cracked. “I would never betray that confidence.”
“Wouldn’t you? How well do I really know you, Amaryllis?”
“So that’s it?” I whispered. “One coincidence, and you decide I’m the enemy?”
“I decided that I made a mistake. A potentially fatal one.”
I turned away from him, staring out the window as the plane touched down. My chest felt hollow, scraped clean of everything except the familiar ache of abandonment.
“For what it’s worth,” I said without looking at him, “I’m sorry about Dagger. I hope he’s okay, and whatever resulted in his cover being blown has nothing to do with me.”
Reaper remained silent even after the plane’s door opened so we could deboard.
“We need to go,” he finally said.
Go? Where?
I grabbed my bag and followed him toward the exit, my mind already calculating options. The coalition had sent me here, but that didn’t mean I had to stay. I had contacts in the area—people who owed me favors, friends, albeit ones I hadn’t been in touch with for years, something I now regretted.
The chill of the October night hit me as I followed Reaper down the airstairs and over to the black SUV that waited on the tarmac.
I climbed into the passenger seat while he got behind the wheel. The keys were in the ignition, and an envelope sat on the console. He tore it open and scanned the contents.
He started the engine. “The Yard.”
That the area he’d spat at me was minutes from where I grew up meant I could disappear if I needed to. I knew every rural road, every shortcut, every place where someone could vanish without a trace.
The question was whether I should.
I could walk away from this entire mess. Let the coalition handle Romanov and Prism while I continued searching for Mercury on my own. I’d managed for seven months without their help. I could do it again.
But Briggs was here, and we had an impending meeting scheduled. I needed whatever answers he held about MercuryandAldrich. If I left now, I’d never get them.
And despite everything, despite Reaper’s accusations and cold suspicion, I knew I hadn’t betrayed him, and as much as I shouldn’t, I wanted him to know it too.
I stared out the window as we drove through the familiar Virginia countryside. I had maybe thirty minutes to determinewhether to stay and work with someone who didn’t trust me, or cut my losses.
After decidingthe meeting with Briggs was too important for me to miss, I followed Reaper through the front door and into the town house Blackjack had arranged for us.
It sat on a cobblestone street lined with Federal-style buildings and looked like every other upscale residence in the historic district, with lanterns casting pools of warm light on the sidewalk, and window boxes overflowing with late-autumn flowers.
“There are two bedrooms. Take whichever one you want. We’ll brief Nemesis at zero eight hundred tomorrow, then figure out how soon we can meet with Briggs.”
Since I hadn’t set my bag down, I turned toward the stairs. I didn’t owe him a response. Briggs. That’s why I was here. Once that meeting was over, I’d be gone.
I entered the first bedroom I came to, stepped inside, closed and locked the door, then walked over to the French doors that opened to a small patio.
The air didn’t feel as cold to me as it had when we got off the plane. Maybe because I’d gone numb. The alternative was to allow myself to face how hurt I was that Reaper would think so little of me.
This is what you get for trusting someone.
The voice in my head sounded like my own, but sharper. Colder. It was the same one that had kept me going through every loss, every betrayal, every moment when caring about someone had turned into a weapon against me.
I returned inside but pressed my cheek against the cool glass and let go, allowing myself to feel the crushing weightof disappointment that I’d been stupid enough to hope things could be different. That Reaper could be different.
