Page 39 of Caleb
Aaron shakes his head, kills the engine, and steps out of the car. “Fuck it.” He slams the car door. “Tell her everything.” He walks away, and without turning around, he says, “Let me know if she changes her mind about that run. I’ll go grab some coffee.”
It’s nice to have Aaron’s support. For once. I love him, but it was so annoying to feel like he was always on Ambassador Murphy’s side. I know we’re legally sworn to secrecy on all matters related to Red’s mother, but if there’s anything else I can do or say that will make her feel at ease about her safety, rest assured, I will go ahead and do it. Or say it. So thank God Aaron agreed to this because either way, I was going to tell her everything, and it makes it easier knowing he’s got my back.
I make my way up the stairs and wait for Red outside the door. A couple of minutes later, she opens it, sticks her head out, and says, “Come in, let’s talk over here.”
Feeling anxious, I follow her out to the garden. Stepping inside the Residence always puts me on edge, especially if it’s only the two of us roaming around together. It makes me feel like I’m out of place. Like I don’t belong here. But this place is always busy with people coming and going, so we’re just a couple more people doing the same.
Red sits on a bench below the shade of a big tree and says, “Can you sit? With me?” She clears her throat and swallows hard. Her voice nearly broke; it sounds fragile.
“Of course.” I unbutton my jacket and take a seat next to her.
“What happened yesterday?” Her eyes are round and glassy. “I deserve to know, Caleb. It’s not—”
“I’m going to tell you everything.” I hate to interrupt her, but she’s so used to fighting for answers that she can’t see I’m holding them on a silver tray along with everything she wants to know about what happened yesterday.
“You are?” A hint of doubt clouds her eyes.
I nod and start talking.
“The man who approached us is an American citizen and a prominent businessman. He and his sixteen-year-old son were abducted almost six weeks ago outside a restaurant in the Latin Quarter after having dinner.”
Red gasps, and her hand moves up to cover her mouth.
“But he managed to escape,” I continue. “His first thought was coming to ask for help from the Embassy, but he was turned away by the first security checkpoint. They thought he was a crazy homeless guy trying to get attention. So he came here next, and when he saw our car, he took the opportunity to approach us. So, you were right. He really needed help.”
“And what about his son?” she asks, genuine concern etched on her features.
“Local authorities have been contacted, and they are coming up with an extraction plan to retrieve his son. They think this man has enough information to be able to get his son back, and I’m sure they will, so don’t worry about it,” I explain, my gaze trained on her face, waiting for the information to sink in and hopefully put her at ease.
“I really hope so.” She looks down at her fingers as she wrings them nervously in her lap. “Anyway, I think it’s best if I clear my schedule for today.”
I frown.
“I understand if you’re feeling tired or not in the mood to go out for a run, but you have that pool party today with your friends,” I remind her. There’s no need for her to clear her schedule.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m in the mood for that.”
“Red?” I whisper. I’m trying to get her to look at me, but she’s unwilling to give me her attention. “Look at me.” She does, but her eyes look glazed. She looks at her hands again, and gravity does its thing as a few tears slide down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I can’t—I can’t help but feel like my father’s hiding something from me. Something bad. And I try not to think about it. But then stuff like this happens, and it makes me want to take a few steps back and be more cautious.”
Looking at her in such an emotionally vulnerable condition is pure torture. I can’t wipe her tears off her face or pull her against my chest for a soothing hug I know would make her feel better. There are too many people roaming around the place.
I can’t touch her. Period.
“There’s no need to apologize,” I say softly, my hands almost shaking with uneasiness. An urge to make her fears go away once and for all invades me. For a few stupid seconds, I toy with the idea of telling hereverything. But I shake my head and snap out of it. It would only lead to chaos, bankruptcy, and deportation.
She’s taking slow, deep breaths that make it seem like she’s trying to keep her shit together. Like she might have a panic attack if she doesn’t keep her breathing steady.
“You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to do.” I try to reassure her with no success. “And I respect your decision of wanting to stay in for the rest of the day. But just know that you are safe to come and go as you please. Besides, Aaron and I are here to make sure no one gets anywhere near you or lays a finger on you.”
Damn it. I’m probably coming off too strong, but it’s the truth. No one gets to even look at her funny. Not on my watch.
Red blows a breath through her mouth and flicks her gaze to mine. Her lips twitch.
“And I’ll knock their teeth out.” I stretch the threatening promise as a joke to make her smile. She does.
“Aren’t you the scariest of them all?” She smirks playfully, but it’s her innocence shielding her from seeing me for who I am—a man who’s killed people before that would gladly do it again to keep her safe. Those are the lengths I’m willing to go to. The price I’m willing to pay.
