Secure one was the last thing I said to the only woman I’ve ever loved.
The words hadn’t left Marlise’s mind since Cal had uttered them an hour ago. Since then, he’d done nothing but bark orders at her like she was a soldier on his team. She tried not to take offense to it. He had opened up to her, and she knew how difficult that was for him. She understood it on a personal level most people wouldn’t. Whatever happened the day his girlfriend died wasn’t all on his shoulders though. When it came to the military, it was never up to one person to secure an area. That was why they had teams. Regardless, Cal was the kind of guy who would bear the burden of any failure so the rest of his team didn’t have to. While she understood it, she hated it for him. No one should live that way.
“I killed a man once,” she admitted. Did she say that aloud? She threw a hand over her mouth and hoped he didn’t hear her.
His hands froze on the straps of his vest. He was standing in front of her and, in another breath, pushed her back against the car. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” A tear ran down her cheek, brought about by the admittance and the guilt. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Her whispered confession softened him, and he pulled her into a hug. “Something tells me you didn’t mean to kill him.”
“He was assaulting me,” she said in a choked whisper. “If I didn’t get him off me, I would die. All I had within reach was a shiv. I accidentally hit his carotid, and he bled out.”
“I’m sorry, Mary. I wouldn’t wish that kind of experience on anyone.”
“You’re not alone, Cal. There are a lot of experiences I don’t talk about either. You were in the military and probably saw many horrible things, but they don’t define you. You’re a good person who takes care of your family without hesitation. Whatever happened to your friend was a series of unfortunate events but not your fault. There’s a chain of command in the military for a reason.”
“You don’t know any such thing, Mary. You’ve never been in war.”
“That’s not true,” she said, pushing him away. “A war is a war, whether it’s fought on the street or on foreign soil. You do things in war you would never do in peacetime. No one understands that better than me, Cal,” she said, poking herself in the chest. “Don’t tell me I’ve never fought for my life or for something I believed in because you don’t know that!” This time, her finger went into his chest, and he closed his fist around it, the metal and rubber fingers clacking as they closed.
“I’m sorry. You know that wasn’t what I meant. I simply meant that if you haven’t been in the military, you don’t understand the intricacies of the missions. I dropped the ball.”
“Did you though? Have you taken the time to consider that maybe someone else dropped the ball, and the game was over long before you got on the field? You’ll never find peace until you consider that as a possibility, Cal. You’re too damn young to sit around brooding for the rest of your life because of one mistake.”
“That mistake cost a woman her life!” he ground out.
“But was it your mistake?” she quietly asked. “Really think about it. I’ve known you for two years, and you’re meticulous when you run a mission. You’re not like that because of what happened to her. That’s your personality and who you are as a person. Have you ever considered that what happened that day wasn’t your fault?”
“Absolutely not,” he said, his gaze pinned on hers. “I was the team leader, so the mission failure was on me. My intel was bad, but I should have approached things differently. I should have held the team back until I knew for sure. I should have done something more than I did.”
“You were given bad information, followed orders, and the mission failed. That’s tragic, but that doesn’t make it your fault.”
Cal slid his hand up her cheek as they stood in the early air of a cool October morning. “Hannah’s death will always be on my hands, Mary.”
She grasped his wrist and stopped his hand from touching her scarred cheek. “Do you think Hannah would feel that way if she were here? I wasn’t in the military, but there isn’t a veteran who won’t tell you they knew the risks when they signed up. What would Hannah think if she knew your life revolved around her death? Would that make her happy? Would she take comfort or joy in knowing you punish yourself every day for her death?”
Cal’s gaze was so intense she was afraid she would combust under it, but what she saw in his eyes scared her the most. He truly believed he had killed the woman he loved, and she would never convince him otherwise. He needed to stop beating himself up for something that went beyond the scope of his job that day.
Slowly, his hand slipped from her face, and he took a step back without saying anything. Cal Newfellow was a crypt, and he couldn’t make it clearer that she was not the keeper.
He pulled the car door open and motioned her in. “Are you ready for the resurgence at Red Rye?”
Was she ready? As she lowered herself to the car seat, the answer was easy. No, but she didn’t have the luxury of time. If she wanted her life back, she would have to do the hard work, which started back where it all began.
Red Rye, Kansas. Population: four thousand.
WHEN SHE NOTICED her reflection in the post office door, she was glad her coat hid her bulletproof vest. At least she had that going for her. Her fingers played with her blond hair before she took a breath and pulled the door open. Being back in Red Rye hit her in a way she hadn’t expected. She’d expected the anxiety to hit hard and brutal. Admittedly, she was anxious to get the phones and get out of town, but that was the only anxiety filling her belly. She was pleasantly numb to any other emotion as she walked into the lobby of the place she had once considered a fortress for her secrets. Once she left here, they wouldn’t be secrets for long.
Cal had her back, but now that she was inside, she was on her own in retrieving the phones. They’d been watching the post office for an hour, and nothing seemed amiss, according to Cal, but then The Miss was never obvious. Subtle is your middle name when you’re running an illegal prostitution ring smack-dab in the middle of a small town.
With a glance behind her, she made eye contact with Cal. He was loitering outside the door, pretending to smoke a cigarette. His head was on a swivel though, as he “took in the town’s charm.”
After a deep breath, she approached the counter, grateful Roland was still the postmaster. He was always so kind to her when she lived here.
“Marlise!” he exclaimed the moment he laid eyes on her. “Well, I never thought I’d see you again! But here you are.”
“Hi, Roland,” she answered, though her voice wavered. She cleared her throat before she spoke again. “I wanted to pick up my mail before my box expired. Unfortunately, I no longer have the key. You know, after the fire and everything.”
“Oh, sure, sure,” he said, nodding as though he didn’t want to bring up the way the town had been tainted by The Madame either. “I’m happy to get it for you.”
She held a bag out to him. “You can use this. Thank you.”
The postmaster took the bag with a smile and walked back behind the bank of post office boxes. There would be no mail, only the cell phones. She prayed they’d still charge so they could access the information. Cal told her to act casual, as though it were any other day, and she was simply picking up her mail. She didn’t know how hard that would be until she stood there exposed. She forced herself to remain calm as she waited, but he needed to hurry.
There was a bounty out on her head, and if she didn’t find a way to stop The Miss, she wouldn’t have one. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. The Miss would love nothing more than to have her head, but Marlise had worked too hard and suffered too much to fall back into that woman’s grasp.
“Not much in there considering how long you were gone,” the postmaster said, jarring Marlise from her thoughts. She jumped but covered it by reaching for the bag.
“I’m sure not. I changed my address immediately when I moved. Thanks again for getting this for me,” she said, holding up the bag. “You can let the box go now. I won’t be back.”
“I’m sorry to see you go, Marlise, but I understand. What happened to you here in Red Rye was terrible. Don’t be a stranger if you ever find yourself this way again.”
Marlise thanked him and waved before she headed for the door. Not a chance she’d step foot in Red Rye again. This was her past. Her future was out there to find once The Miss was captured. Her gaze locked with Cal’s, and she wished for a moment that he were her future. He was the kind of man you trusted without question because there was no doubt in your mind that he’d keep you safe.
Remembering their discussion, she didn’t make eye contact on her way past him. She noticed him drop the cigarette and grind it out with his foot before catching up to her, his hands in the pockets of his coat that hid his bulletproof vest. He’d told her to pretend they were a couple on the outs, so she yanked the door open to the car and tossed the bag inside. On a huff, she slid into the passenger seat.
“Did you get them?”
“Yes. Let’s get out of here.” She donned a pair of sunglasses and crossed her arms over her chest, staring out the window as though she were mad at the man next to her.
The car rumbled as they headed away from the town that had broken her body, mind and spirit. The car was silent and tense until they reached the next county, but when they made it without a tail, she breathed a small sigh of relief. They were still in the race and, with the phones, a few steps closer to the finish line.
“I’m proud of you,” he said, glancing at her for a moment.
“For what?” She bent over and tugged a brunette wig over her hair. It wouldn’t fool anyone who knew her, but it would fool everyone else.
“You walked into that post office with your head held high and not a nerve in sight. You did what had to be done in a place you wanted to forget. Not everyone can do that.”
“Oh, there were nerves,” she said with a chuckle. “A whole lot of them.”
“You wouldn’t have known it, and that’s why I’m so proud of you. You’ve come a long way since Red Rye, baby.”
Baby? He didn’t mean that as a term of endearment, right? She shook her head at the thought that he meant it exactly like that.
“We’ve come a long way,” she corrected him, offering him a rare smile of genuine happiness. “But we have a few more miles before we can say we crossed the finish line.”
His lips pursed, and he nodded. “I know. It doesn’t look like we picked up a tail out of Red Rye, which is good. We’re still switching out cars before we drive to the hotel. Don’t give up. We’ve got this.”
She glanced down at his hand on her shoulder and was suddenly afraid that he got her in a way that went deeper than she might like. She might escape The Miss without further damage to her body, but she’d absolutely leave Secure One with a broken heart.