A Beautiful Lie (Playing with Fire #1)(126)

In the last few weeks, Parker’s nurse had become a friend of sorts. For obvious reasons, Parker trusted no one, but Olivia made it hard not to like her even if she had to stare at her perfect complexion and model’s figure every day. It was especially hard when Olivia smiled at Parker and told her they were going to be good friends right after Parker threw a bowl of green Jell-O at her the day they met.

Even though Olivia forced Parker to go to physical therapy when she didn’t want to and stood next to her bed, tapping her foot until Parker gave in, forced the bland hospital food down her sore throat, yanked the covers off of her, and made her go for a walk when she was feeling sorry for herself, she was the only constant in Parker’s life at the moment―the only person there day in and day out that made sure she got better.

Parker swore worse than any truck driver she’d ever met and spent most of her day frowning, complaining, and arguing, but Olivia knew something else was lurking underneath that hard exterior. She tried several times to talk to Parker about the handsome soldier that she heard kept a close vigil over her for the first four days after her surgery, but each time she mentioned him, Parker shut down.

On several occasions, Olivia came up to the hospital long before her shift was due to start just to check on Parker. She would peek in on her through the window in Parker's hospital room door and it was always the same. Parker would be sitting in the chair by the window, staring out at nothing, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Even though the cause of Parker’s injuries was top secret, Olivia knew she was with the CIA and just completed a mission in the Dominican Republic where she was held hostage. Olivia had seen her share of injured soldiers, agents, and other U.S. government workers throughout the years. She knew Parker most likely saw and experienced things that could break even the strongest of men. Olivia hoped that one day Parker would confide in her; she couldn’t stand seeing the woman in so much pain. Even when she was struggling on the treadmill with sweat dripping down her face or sitting in the back of the room stone-faced and refusing to participate in her weekly PTSD group, Olivia could see the force it took for Parker not to crumble. She knew it was taking every ounce of strength Parker possessed not to break down.

Olivia and Parker slowly made their way back into Parker’s hospital room after a couple of leisurely laps around the recovery floor. Both women immediately stopped talking and frowned at the man who stood up from a chair in the corner of the room to greet them.

Parker immediately thought of Agent Brad Richmond. Right before Parker was transferred to D.C. she found out her boss of eight years died in his home when he refused to give up Parker’s location to two of Fernandez’s guards. He was never someone she would call a friend necessarily, but at least he knew her. They shared a history even if it wasn’t all rainbows and kittens. He didn’t treat her like a stranger, speak to her like a child, or ignore her requests. His replacement, Agent Jeff Charles, managed to do all of those things within the first fifteen minutes of meeting her.

She hated him immediately.

As soon as Parker was transported to D.C., Agent Charles came to Parker’s room three different times in an attempt to talk to Parker about what happened, and each time Olivia ordered him away when she saw how upset it made Parker. She told him Parker wasn’t strong enough for visitors that would upset her. Jeff bided his time for as long as he could. Agent Parker’s time was up. Jeff finally went over Olivia’s head and Parker’s doctor gave him the okay to question her about the mission.

Olivia was not happy.

As she helped Parker get back into bed, she shot a dirty look to the man in corner of the room wearing a black suit and tie with a perfectly pressed white shirt.

“You buzz me if you need anything,” Olivia informed Parker as she helped her pull a blanket up over her legs and shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the patiently waiting CIA agent. “Even if it’s some good old fashioned ass kicking.”

Parker cracked a small smile even though it hurt to show even that much emotion.

“I don’t think it’s in your job description to beat up visitors. Especially government employed ones,” Parker told her softly as she got herself comfortable.

“Something tells me you wouldn’t be opposed to assault and battery in this instance,” Olivia replied, hooking her thumb over her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine,” Parker assured Olivia. “Thank you.”

After checking the IV machine and pressing a few buttons, Olivia left Parker and Agent Charles alone.

“As I’ve stated in the numerous voicemails I’ve left you, none of which you’ve had the courtesy to respond to, there are quite a few loose ends that need to be cleared up in regards to this case,” Agent Charles said as he got right to the point, opening a briefcase he'd set on the table next to him and pulling out several file folders.

“And as I stated the first day you came here two weeks ago, I’m not answering any of your f*cking questions until you tell me what’s happening with Lieutenant McCarthy and his team,” Parker replied, trying to keep her blood pressure down.

“Miss Parker—”

“AGENT Parker,” she interrupted, correcting Jeff through gritted teeth. “I may not be active right now, but I damn well deserve the respect I’ve earned.”

Jeff took a few calming breaths and reminded himself that losing his temper wouldn’t do anyone any good. The CIA and the Navy were now in a pissing contest over who should get the credit for taking down one of the biggest prostitution rings that spanned several countries. The sad fact was the CIA couldn’t get the upper hand without Parker’s help. Her refusal to participate in debriefing or talk to anyone from the CIA was not helping their case.