Strong Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #1)(65)

My breath is coming short and shallow. “Tell me what happened, Dad. Just tell me.”

There’s a long silence before he begins. “I met your mother when I was stationed in North Dakota doing some cold-weather training. She worked at a little diner there. Stole my heart the first time I laid eyes on her. We had only been dating a couple of months when I found out that I was being transferred to Germany. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her, so I asked her to marry me. She said yes. We had a little informal ceremony and then packed up and moved halfway across the world.

“Things were fine at first, even after we moved back to the states two years later. Within a few months of coming back, she got pregnant with you, so I put in for a desk job in Texas. Anything to get out of the field, away from the travel. I wanted our family, especially you, to have stability and not have to move around so much.

“I was pretty sure I’d get the job. Even then I had a high clearance, but that position required top-level credentials, so they vetted me for it.” His pause makes the bottom of my stomach drop. “That’s when they found out about her.”

My pulse stutters like a hiccup high in my chest. “Found out what?”

“She worked for an intelligence group that fed state secrets to a terrorist organization in the Middle East.”

Sweet Jesus, will this day never end?

“M-my mother was a spy? Or a terrorist?”

At this moment, my father looks ten years older, his face that of a man who has seen more tragedy and heartbreak than I ever knew. He doesn’t deny my deduction, but he doesn’t address it either. He goes a different route.

“All you need to know about your mother is that she was the woman who gave birth to the most beautiful child in the world. She passed on only good things to you. Your green eyes, your quick smile, your art, your fierce loyalty. Your courage. I’ve never seen anyone as fearless as you when it comes to the people they love. I will always be grateful to her for giving me the best part of my whole life. You.”

The lump in my throat is so big I fear that it might stop me from taking the deep breath that I so desperately need. “So what happened? Did she really just leave us? And you let her go? Or . . . ?”

A short, sad pause. “Yes. She did leave us. That was the truth. After I applied for the transfer, I think she knew it was just a matter of time before she was discovered. She knew they’d take us both apart before they gave me top clearance.”

“Do you know what happened to her after that?”

His face blanches, and he looks down and away. “Yes.”

When he doesn’t continue, I have to prompt him. “And are you going to tell me?”

“Muse, I think it’s better—”

“Dad, no! I need to know. I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t protect me from everything in life.”

“But this is different. Knowing the details won’t change the fact that she’s gone, that she’s no longer a part of your life.”

“No, it won’t, but I still want to know. I need to know the whole truth about my life, Dad.”

“Muse, honey, please.”

“No! Don’t you do this to me. Tell me, Dad. Tell me right now. I need to know.” I’m on the verge of some sort of conniption. I think he must know that.

He takes a deep breath. “They wanted her brought into custody for questioning. I knew what that meant, what they’d do to her.” His pause gives me too much time to fill in the blanks, to complete the imagery with the most horrific ones that I can conjure. “No matter who she really was, no matter what she’d done, I could never let the mother of my child live out her life being tortured. No matter how short that life might’ve been. I couldn’t do it. So I went after her. When I found her, she didn’t try to run. I think she knew I couldn’t hurt her. Not really. I told her they knew. I told her what they’d do. She just nodded. She knew, too. When she reached for my gun, I don’t know if I thought she was going to kill me or herself. I don’t know if she knew for sure either. We just stood there, staring at each other. My gun in her hand. When she raised it to her head, she said five words that have brought me more heartache yet more comfort than I could ever have thought they would.” My father’s eyes are distant as he looks over my shoulder, almost like he’s looking into the past.

“What did she say? What five words?”

“‘Don’t tell Muse about me.’ I knew then that she loved you as much as I did. I knew then that she was taking the only way out that could save us all, especially you.”

“S-so what did you do?”

My question brings his sad, tormented eyes back to mine. “I . . . I gave her the only mercy that I could. I let her choose her own fate.”

My stomach sloshes with a queasy feeling that only adds to my exhaustion from this day. My mouth is uncomfortably dry and my head becomes lighter the harder I try to think and process.

“You . . . you let my mother kill herself.” Not a question. Not an accusation. A statement. An attempt to assimilate this information into the life I thought I knew, into the life I thought I was living.

“I had no choice. Not really.”

I raise dull, watering eyes to his. “You could’ve taken us away. Far, far away. To another country maybe.”