Chapter Sixteen

 

He rolled over, his arm searching blindly for her warm, yielding body.

But the bed was empty.

“Would the real Eldon Bishop please stand up?”

The deep, drawled words sent a chill down his spine, and he spun immediately from the bed. Awake in a fraction of a second, he knew what he did in the next few moments might make the difference between life and death.

It was Heller.

The director leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, his ankles crossed casually, his silk suit gone, replaced by a snug black t-shirt, dark jeans, and heavy boots. He was no longer the slick businessmen, instead now more resembling a biker.

Or a killer.

Eldon looked around for something, anything to be used as a weapon, cursing silently for the thousandth time that he couldn’t carry his sidearm on this assignment.

“Where’s Tamara?”

“She’s gone — no longer any of your concern.” Heller’s eyes flashed. “You’ll probably want to hear this, though considering your current predicament, I can’t see how it matters. She asked to leave this morning — permanently. And I granted her request.”

The news was like a horse kicking him in the gut.

“Nathan left with her”—Heller checked his watch—“oh, thirty minutes ago?”

“You cocksucker.”

Heller didn’t register the insult in the least, instead pulling a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, spreading it open.

“One E.L.—‘Eldon’—Bishop. Officer Bishop, Vice.” Heller scowled, his big, veined hand crumpling up the paper. “Olympia… PD. Now, what in hell are we going to do about this?”

Eldon didn’t say a thing. It would be about as useful as pissing in the wind. He was fucking cooked. Sure, he could read him his rights, bullshit his way through a story about how thirty feds were barreling down the access road as they spoke.

They both knew the truth.

“You know, I had a bet. I didn’t know you yet, but I placed the bet anyway — because I know cops. I’d bet that this was an undercover op. My counterpart — a dear friend of mine you may be familiar with—thought otherwise. He wanted to see how this all played out, who you were really working for. But me?”

Heller pushed himself from the doorjamb, four black-clad guards slipping inside behind him, their MP5s trained on Eldon immediately.

“I just wanted to see what you really had the balls to do.”

“On your knees, fingers laced behind your head,” the nearest guard said, his teeth gritted. “Move, and you’re a dead man.”

Eldon complied, dropping to what he knew was likely the last position he’d know on this earth. The hopelessness was back — that same bitter, empty feeling consuming him the day he’d first arrived here.

It was only last night that that dreadful void had been filled. It had been the most fleeting, but sweetest few hours of his life.

Even having his brains blown all over this bedroom was worth that — because he’d gotten one night with her.

He closed his eyes, preparing for it.

“Now, what the fuck is going on in here?”

Eldon’s eyes flew open at the new, yet oddly familiar voice, the playful cockiness distinctive, even though he’d only met the man once.

I’ll be goddamned.

Blaine Forster stepped through the doorway, a scowl on his normally, placid face. “Get those fucking guns down, for Christ’s sake.” Following him was Dr. Forster, his normal coat and scrubs replaced by a pin-striped navy suit.

Heller grinned, giving the man a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just like I said. I simply wanted to see what he’d do.”

“Ice water in his fucking veins is the verdict I’d render,” Blaine said, a subtle smile quirking his lips. “Now, clear out, guys. I’d say the situation’s under control.”

Heller snapped his head toward the door, the guards retreating as fast as they’d advanced.

“I’m sorry we had to put you through this,” Dr. Forster said. “But we needed to see where the trail led. As the good director suspected — something for which I unfortunately owe him ten thousand dollars — it was a police operation, rather than… something more problematic.”

“It’s been resolved at the, uh, departmental level.” Dr. Forster tugged at one of his sleeves. “One of the Trust’s long time members happens to work in the AG’s office. A few quiet phone calls and the operation was officially discontinued, effective this morning. I think we’ve seen enough to know what we’re facing.”

“However, what you’ve seen — on a tactical level, you understand — can’t be unseen. Which leaves us — and more to the point, you, Officer Bishop — in a bit of a pickle.” Heller stepped forward, his arms crossed casually behind his back. “We'd normally handle infiltrations like this... firmly.” The director's eyes glinted. “But, in this case, someone interceded on your behalf. One who pleaded you be spared... with conditions.”

Eldon looked up, his jaw dropping, heart in his throat. He was sure he wouldn't survive the next five minutes. Was this just a ruse, or was there really hope he'd somehow live through this fiasco?

“I'll let that person tell you themselves though.” The director turned his head — toward the woman walking through the door.

My God.

It was Tamara.

She looked upon him, and the sweet, magnetic beauty of those eyes pinned him in place as surely and immovably as two tons of steel chains.

“You don't see who you are, what you are.” She gave him a gentle smile. “But I do. You feel so hopeless, but you're wrong. I was just like you, once. A lost soul without a home — adrift, alone. But that all changed one day.”

Glancing at the director, color bloomed in her cheeks.

He gave her a slow nod.

She took a deep breath and continued, looking upon Eldon once more. "I begged them. When I learned they meant to...” She shuddered.

“Go on,” Dr. Forester murmured. “Finish it. He must know.”

“I-I knew there was a way.” She squared her shoulders. “If I could get them to see what I saw, what I felt.”

“I don’t understand. Tamara, you left. I remember what you said, all those weeks ago. You said none could ever want what you wanted — what you needed.” Eldon swallowed down the painful lump in his throat, the fear of imminent death paling now at the pain he’d felt, remembering the emptiness engulfing him when he thought he’d lost her forever.

“There’s something you need to know — something I haven’t told you. Not in all those long hours of your… interrogations.” She looked down with a subtle shake of her head. “Something I intentionally kept from you.”

“It’s okay… that, doesn’t matter now.”

She came to kneel before him, and she held his face in her hands, tears brimming in her impossibly beautiful blue eyes. “When I decided to leave my owners — you’ve seen them before, at the entrance — I was broken-hearted. I’d given up hope that I could find what I really needed. But then I met someone, a kind, strong, and even gentle man — but one who also knew what I needed.”

“I don’t understand—”

She pressed a finger to his lips, and she smiled, her eyes bright. “My owners agreed to give me up on one condition — that I stay here permanently — until I find the one I was looking for. They never believed I’d actually find him, that I would grow tired of this life. They believed I’d come back to them, eventually. But they were wrong. I did find the person I was looking for all along.”

“Who?”

“You silly man — it’s you.”

Though his heart soared at the words, he still didn’t understand why she was telling him all of this, what it all really meant.

She kissed his cheek gently. “But when they told me — everything. I wanted to run. I had no idea, who you really were.” Tears began to stream down her cheeks then, but she smiled through them. “But then I saw. You were that man — sent to me, for me, made for me. You were the one I wanted — the one who had everything I needed.”

His throat seized at the words and he took her hands in his. “Don’t say this… you can’t know what I am. I’m so fucked up, Tamara. I…” Then the words became too much for a moment, the lump so painful his voice was little more than a rasp.

“But I came back. You see, I had to — for you. The condition. It had finally been fulfilled. I’d found the one… whom I could love.”

“This is where the catch comes in,” Blaine said. “In order to satisfy this condition… you can’t be a cop anymore.”

“Ever,” Dr. Forster said.

“But the Trust always has use for honorable, strong — and loyal — men,” Heller said, lowering his chin. “If you get my drift. You’d be part of the Trust — forever.”

“Please, Eldon. Please say yes. I’ve made my choice. I’ve opened the door… now you just need to walk through it.”

He looked deep in her eyes then, searching their depths, finding the truth there, the truth he’d been yearning for. It was there, in her — and in her love.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, and she burst into tears.

“I choose the woman I’m in love with. I choose you, Tamara.”