Beyond Limits (Tracers #8)(79)

Her throat tightened, and she stopped tracing. Instead, she slid her thigh over his and nestled closer. His body felt warm and solid, and she tried to keep her mind in the present. If she could focus on his arms around her, she might actually get some sleep tonight.

“People do it, you know.”

She turned her head. “What?”

“The long-distance thing.” He eased his arm out from under her and propped himself on his elbow to look at her. “It’s tough, but it works. Not always but sometimes.”

She slid her leg away and rolled onto her back to look at the ceiling. The bathroom door was ajar, letting a wedge of light into the room. “I don’t want a relationship like that.”

“With me, you mean.”

“With anyone.” She sat up against the headboard and pulled the sheet up.

“What’s so bad about it?”

She stared at him. “We’d never see each other, for one thing.”

“We would when I have leave.”

“That’s what? A few weeks a year?” Frustration welled up in her chest. Why did he want to talk about this right now?

“That’s a cop-out, and you know it. You just don’t want to try.”

She looked at him there in the dim light. He was propped on his elbow, staring at her, all muscular and perfect and scarred and determined.

Her heart felt sore. He thought she was weak. And she wasn’t. But she knew herself a lot better than he did, and she wished he’d at least try to understand.

She reached out and brushed her finger over his knuckles. “Have you ever been to a place, and it’s so different from what you’re used to—you’re not there that long, but it’s so different that you notice every detail?” She watched him. “Maybe somewhere exotic, like the Himalayas or the rain forest or, I don’t know, somewhere underwater?”

He nodded slightly.

“That’s what it was like with you. I memorized every detail. And then you were gone, and it was really hard.” She met his eyes, and her nerves fluttered as she let the words come out. “I missed you so much. It took me a long time to deal with that and accept that we were too different. The circumstances were too impossible. It was hard to face up to, but I did it. And I don’t want to have to go through that again.”

She saw the frustration in his eyes, and she could tell he still didn’t get it. He’d always been the one to leave, not the one left behind.

“There was so much waiting and worrying,” she said. “I would have these moments of panic every time I watched the news. And I’d read in the paper about some suicide bomb or some helicopter crash, and I’d look for some hidden clue that it was or wasn’t you involved.”

His brow furrowed, but she kept going.

“I know how you are, how when there’s trouble you run to it, not away. I knew you guys were in on that raid before Gordon even told me. I knew it in my bones, Derek. It was so dangerous—who else would they send?”

“This isn’t really about me, is it?” His voice had an edge. “This is about your dad.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “Maybe in a way. I know what it’s like to lose someone important. The hurt is so deep I can’t even explain it. And I know how hard it is after. I don’t want that kind of fear in my life again. It’s taken me years to get away from it, and I know that’s not what I want. Can’t you try to understand that?”

He held her gaze for a long moment. “I understand fear better than anybody. Part I don’t understand is giving in without a fight.”





Chapter Twenty-two





A faint buzzing noise jarred Derek awake. He stared up at the ceiling and felt a heavy weight on his chest. Snagging his jeans off the floor, he dug his phone from the pocket.

“Vaughn.”

“You up?” It was Luke.

Derek sat up and glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth. She was out cold, her arms tucked snugly under the pillow. She didn’t move a muscle as he got up and pulled on his jeans.

She’d been so wrung out that she’d completely crashed. He knew from experience that she didn’t like emotional drama, but last night had been pretty maxed out.

“You there?”

“One sec.” He opened the glass slider and stepped onto the balcony. Although balcony was being generous. It was barely big enough to stand on—maybe if you were a hobbit sneaking a cigarette, but that was about it. He slid the door shut behind him and blinked up at the sun.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I just talked to Hailey, and I’ve got some intel.”

“You just talked to her?” He checked his watch. It was 0600 in California.

“This was last night. She was going through some shit, and she asked me to come to her hotel to talk.”

“And you went.”

“Hey, fuck you, Mr. Self-Righteous. I didn’t touch her.”

Derek hoped for Hailey’s sake that Luke was telling the truth. He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Do you want this or not?”

“I do.”

Derek definitely wanted it. He looked out over the kudzu-covered bayou that separated Elizabeth’s hotel from a freeway packed with morning commuters. This thing, whatever it was, was ramping up, and the feds were still chasing their tails.