Objective (Bloodlines #2)(78)

“What will happen to her? How can you think it will be better to leave her on her own? Can I go with her?” Aster breaks down into sobs. All because of me. This is all because of me. I have nothing.

Nothing.

“No. I’m sorry. You won't be able to see her or talk to her. It will be better for her. She will be safe. She’ll be able to start over and be safe,” he promises brokenly.



The nurse exits the room and lets them know they can come in now. Aster enters first. Her eyes are streaked with dripping make-up and her clothes are stained with blood, no doubt Cane’s, from me clinging to her. Bentley follows after her silently. His eyes are tired and dark circles rim them. His shirts torn and he’s limping. I follow his gate as he walks to the chair near the bed.

“You barely clipped me,” he says with feigned arrogance. I pull my eyes to his and cock my head to the side.

“I’m sorry,” I say but it barely comes out above a whisper. My throat is tight. I can barely breathe, let alone make a sound. Everyone in the room looks like hell. Because of me. Brock lies unconscious in another state because of me. Cane is in the morgue because of me.

Cold.

Dead.

Alone.

WITSEC suddenly seems like the best idea on the planet. I don’t need anything or anyone. I should be isolated. Everyone I care about gets hurt when I’m around.

“Mags,” he shakes his head at me. “It’s alright. You did what you had to do.”

Aster moves to the edge of the bed and sits with me as I sob silently, head hung resting in my hands.





*****


The next morning I am discharged. There is a short debriefing with the ATF before Aster and Bentley take me back to the trailer park. I’ve barely been able to speak let alone stop the tears that refuse to stop rolling down my cheeks. Crushing sorrow envelopes me. I can’t shake it. When we arrive at the trailer two unknown cars are parked in front of mine. Bentley opens my door for me and helps me out. I feel weak and lifeless. Nothing seems appealing to me. I don’t want food, or a shower, or a nap, nothing. The door to my trailer pops open, slapping against the frame loudly. Startled, I look up to find Penny exiting the trailer followed by a thick round black women with warm eyes and graying hair.

“Thank God you’re alright,” Penny says, hugging me tightly to her. I lean into her as Bentley releases me. “We were so worried about you.” Her arms have never hugged me before, I feel stiff and awkward yet comfortably numb in her embrace.

“Hi there, Magnolia, I’m Luellen, Brock’s mother,” the round woman introduces herself. She folds me into a hug and whispers in my ear. “Brock woke up yesterday evening. They expect him to make a full recovery, honey.” My tears double at the relief I feel at her words. Her arms squeeze tighter.

“Thank God,” I mumble into her shoulder.

“He wanted to be here, but, well, he couldn't. I promised him I would come,” she says softly.

“Thank you. Please tell him I love him and I’m so happy he’s back. Tell him no more road trip games.” I smile briefly at her before being ushered into the house.



We sat, the odd pairing of us all, for an hour or so, chatting and having tea that Penny made. Well, they chatted and I mostly sat and pretended to listen. My heart and mind were elsewhere though. Once the small gathering was over and Penny and Luellen left I turned to Bentley, willing my eyes not to shed any more tears. He looks me over with such intensity that I feel like I might implode but before I can even start to squirm he tugs me to him and rests his chin on my head, arms securing me to him. It feels wrong, being in his arms, yet comforting because he’s safe.

“I want WITSEC if I can choose where I end up,” I murmur.

“What’s your request?” he asks softly.

“Blacksburg, Virginia.”

“Why?” he asks.

“I want it, okay?” I snap quietly. I don’t have enough fight left in me to really raise my voice at this point.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he responds sincerely.

“Will I still be able to see you?” I ask.

“No. Well, I’m not supposed to have contact with you once they move you.” His tone is sad and resigned.

“Okay,” I sigh. Now I just have to break the news to Aster. I drag myself down the hall to my room where Aster is trying to busy herself tidying up.

“Aster.” I move past her to the bed and pat the mattress for her to sit with me.

“How you holding up?” she asks, watching me intently.

“I’m taking WITSEC,” I sigh, feeling defeated. Life’s bitch-slapped me in the worst of ways.

“You don’t have to do that,” she protests, albeit rather weakly.

“I do. It’s for the best.” Tears well up in her gold-flecked eyes. I wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her to me. “I love you so hard. So hard. Please, please know that. Remember that,” I whisper sternly into her hair at my shoulder.

“I know. I’ll miss you so much, but I know,” she relents.

The rest of our day is spent packing the few things I want to bring with me and getting my affairs in order while Bentley makes calls and prepares for my departure. By eight o’clock that evening most everything is straightened out and I get a surprise call. Bentley hands me his phone and smiles a brilliant smile at me.