Chances Are(38)

“Absolutely not. This time with you was wonderful but I’m feeling fabulous now and I’m completely healed. There’s no reason I can’t work.”

“I've missed seeing you there. Deidre’s a sweetheart but when I walk in, I expect to see your beautiful face. I’m always disappointed when I don’t.”

“Noah said she’s doing a great job.”

“She really came through for us on Delacourte. You trained her well. Having two brilliant researchers instead of one is only better for LCR.”

When her body went stiff, Jake looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

Angela hesitated. For obvious reasons, they hadn’t discussed the future. When existing in a bubble, concentrating on the here and now, things like what would happen when she returned to work were pushed aside. But now, it had to be addressed. He hadn’t been onboard at the beginning when he first learned she wanted to be an operative. Surely, after everything that had happened, his opinion had changed.

“I’m not going back as a researcher. I’m going back as a field operative.”

His face as forbidding as a dark thundercloud, he shook his head. “No, you’re not. You told Noah you quit. That you wanted to go back to research.”

“That was before. Now that I know I can handle myself, it’s what I still want to do.”

“Dammit, did almost dying not teach you anything?”

“Yes, it taught me how strong and resilient I am. Delacourte tried to destroy the essence of who I am—it didn’t work. I admit, I was arrogant early on…I’ve lost the arrogance and now have something stronger in its place. I know I can handle myself when crunch time comes. I will be a damn good operative. I know I need additional training to overcome some issues and Noah’s already told me he’ll only give me assignments he thinks I can handle until I prove myself.”

“You’ve already talked to McCall about this?”

“Yes. Yesterday.”

Surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly, since Noah often seemed to have an inside view of people’s thoughts, he hadn’t acted shocked when she had told him she still wanted to be an operative. She had listened to his list of expectations and had agreed to every one of them. She would do whatever was necessary to become the kind of operative she’d always dreamed.

Jake couldn’t stop shaking his head. How the hell had he not seen this coming? How did she not know where he stood?

“We've got something good here, Angela. I assumed you felt the same way.”

“Of course I do.”

The confusion on her face told him she didn’t understand how their relationship and her job were related. In his mind, they were so intertwined that separation wasn’t possible.

“Then, if you feel that way, why the hell would you even consider going back as an operative?”

“Aren’t you an operative?”

“Of course. It’s my job.”

“And my job, too.”

“No, it’s not, dammit. You’re a researcher.” He stopped and tried something else. “Look, I admit, you’re talented—your skills are top-notch. But LCR has over a hundred operatives. We only have a handful of researchers. You have nothing to prove to anyone by going back into the field.”

“This is the very same argument you gave when you first learned I wanted to be an operative. I understood it then because you didn’t know what I was capable of. Now that you know, why would you think I’d want to go back to being a researcher?”

“Because it almost got you killed.”

“All operatives live with that knowledge daily. But I took down a serial killer single-handedly. I saved Clarissa’s life, my own, and who knows how many others. You’re dismissing it as if it meant nothing.”

“I’m not dismissing it at all. What you did was damn brave but that…” He pulled in a deep breath and tried again. “What I'm saying is...”

Jake stopped. He was stumbling all over himself to come up with a better way to say what he was feeling. But what the hell…she had to know where he stood. “When I lost Teresa, it almost killed me. When I thought I’d lost you, I wanted to die. I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”

“Jake, in all the years I’ve been with LCR, we’ve lost exactly one operative. Those are damn good odds.”

Her bright, beautiful smile was supposed to reassure him but all he saw was how she had looked when he’d found her at Delacourte’s house of horrors. He couldn’t bear to see her like that again or have something even worse happen to her.

“Whether there have been no deaths or fifty doesn’t matter. Knowing you’re going through danger day after day isn’t something I can live with. Period.”

Dark brown eyes, filled with hurt and confusion, stared at him for the longest. Putting down an ultimatum was probably a dumbass thing to do but he wasn't going to lie to her. This had to be said.

She stood, wrapped her arms around herself, and said the very words he had been thinking, “So what you’re saying is, if I go back as an operative, we’re through?”

Even as his heart twisted at the thought of never being with her again, she had to know the consequences of her decision. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Turning away from him, Angela bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Out of all the directions she anticipated this conversation going, this hadn’t been on her radar. She had stupidly assumed she had proven herself to him.

In a voice thick with emotion, she confessed softly, “I fell in love with you almost from the moment we met. I already knew about you and what you had endured, but when I saw you, it was cemented in my mind—I knew I would love you forever.” She whirled back around to face him. “Not once did I consider not loving you or wanting to be with you because of your job. Even now, knowing I could lose you on an op, I would never consider asking you to stop doing something that you loved. And yet, that’s exactly what you’re asking of me.”

“Dammit, you’re acting as though I have no reason for my fears. I almost lost you. Can you not see why I would feel this way?”

“Yes, I can understand your feelings. But here’s the thing. My family went to visit some friends for the weekend and died in a freak accident. Death and tragedy can occur on any given day for anyone, LCR operative or civilian. Not being an operative won’t necessarily keep me from dying.”

“No, but as a researcher, you have a better chance of living a long life. At least you wouldn’t be putting yourself at risk every day.”

Releasing a shaky breath, searching for a calm within the storm of her emotions, she stated her position: “I’m not a researcher anymore, I’m an operative. I love you Jake, but I would never ask you to be something you’re not.”

He snorted. “You were an operative for barely two weeks.”

“I’ve wanted to be an operative for years.” She glared at him as she added, “And don’t you dare diminish what I accomplished.”

“I’m not. I’m just pointing out that being something for two weeks doesn’t exactly make it a career.”

“It does when it’s all I ever wanted to do. And it’s what I intend to do for years to come.”

They glared silently at each other for several seconds. Angela wanted to throw her arms around him and plead with him to understand. She wouldn’t. He had to come to the realization on his own, without her trying to seduce him into accepting her decision.

She watched helplessly, hopelessly, as Jake whirled, jerked up his jacket and headed for the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I’ll come back for my things later.”

“So that’s it. It’s either my dream or you.”

He opened the door and then stopped. Turning back to her, he said, “I thought I was your dream. Coming in second place sucks.”

The door slammed, putting an end to her future with Jake and breaking her heart in the process.





Chapter Twenty-two

One month later

Agar, France

“The bastard’s got to be coming down soon,” Aidan growled. “He’s been like that for hours.”

“Whatever he’s taken, I hope to hell he’s enjoying himself,” Seth responded.

Stooped behind a jumble of bushes, Angela adjusted her earbud. A few hours ago, Aidan and Seth had been ready to storm the house where Rupert Gardon was holding his wife and children hostage. Because of the sensitivity of the case—Rupert was the son of a prominent politician in Agar—LCR had been called in to do a quiet snatch and grab.

Things hadn’t gone as planned. Rupert was, as Seth so succinctly put it, loaded for bear. An AK-47 was strapped to his shoulder while he held a Glock securely in his hand. Even crazier, Seth had spotted several sticks of dynamite lying on the kitchen table. The man had enough explosives to incinerate the house and everyone inside it. And to make matters a thousand times more dangerous, he was apparently hyped up on some kind of drug. He had been pacing back and forth on the front porch for hours without a break. And though they had yet to see anyone else, they had strong suspicions that Rupert had brought some friends of his along.