The Wrong Gentleman(58)
“Don’t be mad at your brother because he told me what you should have. He’s not the one who’s been lying.”
“I’ve not been lying,” Landon replied. “But I haven’t told you the entire truth, either.”
I waited for the explanation, desperate to stop the feelings of betrayal breaking free. But I got nothing. Only silence.
“Jesus, Landon. Who are you?”
He turned to face me and swept his hand over the back of my neck. “You know who I am.”
I shrugged him off and moved my chair away. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“Hang on,” Hayden said. “Is this the girl you were talking about last night? Are you two . . .”
I was vaguely aware of Avery shushing Hayden on the other side of the table, but all my focus was on Landon. I wanted him to explain what had happened since we’d stepped into this restaurant. I wanted to know who he was.
Was it possible that the man I’d opened up to, shared things I’d never talked about, wasn’t who he said he was? Had the man who had allowed me to trust again turned out to be the last person I should have trusted? His silence just multiplied my suspicion. I was giving him a chance to explain, but I was just getting semi-explanations and vague snippets of information.
How was it possible for me to have been so fooled by this guy? Looking back, his story about suddenly becoming a deckhand never made sense—he was too old and the way he described his decision made him sound like a loser, when he’d always been focused and diligent and instinctively good at work.
But I wasn’t getting any more answers as I sat here.
“I need to leave,” I said, pushing out my chair and standing. “I’m sorry, Avery, Hayden. It was great to see you both. But I need to go.” I needed to get away from Landon James or Wolf or whatever he was calling himself.
I’d let myself ignore all my rules for this man. I’d let him in. I’d allowed myself to enjoy his touch, need his embrace. How could I have been so foolish?
He was a liar.
“Don’t go,” Avery said as she stood.
I couldn’t even look at Landon. “I’m sorry. I’ll call you, Avery. I just can’t—”
Before I made a fool out of myself and let my sadness and frustration pour down my face, I needed to escape. I turned and fled from the table, desperately heading for the door as if I were underwater and wouldn’t be able to breathe until I got out into the fresh air. I just wanted to go home, but I didn’t have one. I’d spent years hopping from one yacht to another. I didn’t belong anywhere. I’d thought Landon was someone I could have a future with, but he was exactly what I’d been running from for all these years.
Thirty-Five
Landon
I wove between the cramped chairs and tables, following Skylar out of the restaurant. Reynolds would tell me this was the perfect opportunity to get Skylar up to speed on the operation. I could finally tell her everything and ask for her help, but I still couldn’t find the words.
“Hey,” I said as I caught up to her outside.
She shook her head and tried to walk around me.
“Skylar.” I blocked her path and held her shoulders, dipping to try to meet her eye. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you more about my background—I just . . .”
She kept her eyes fixated on the ground.
“Skylar? Don’t be pissed off at me because you didn’t know something I couldn’t tell you.”
She tried to struggle out of my grasp, but I held her firm.
“Couldn’t? Like you couldn’t tell me your real name?”
“That would have just led to more questions that I couldn’t answer.” The easiest way to explain was to do what Reynolds wanted—to enlist Skylar’s help. I could tell her why I was on the yacht and who Walt was.
The hard line of her mouth told me she was far from placated with my non-answer.
“I need you to understand that I didn’t lie about anything that mattered,” I said. “Not between us.”
“I understand that I’m not worth the truth.”
I tipped my head back. “Of course you are.” She was worth far more to me than she realized. She had me hesitating about getting her wired up and gathering evidence to stop a man who was going to sell weapons to terrorists. Jesus, the reason I couldn’t find the words to do as Reynolds asked was precisely because she meant so much.
“You had your own business? Your last name isn’t James, it’s Wolf. Were you even in the army, or was that a lie, too?”
I didn’t understand her anger but at the same time I cared that I’d upset her. I wasn’t used to being bothered by anyone’s feelings. I needed her to see it from my point of view. “Yes, I was in the army and then the SAS.”
“The SAS?”
“Special Forces.”
Skylar shook her head. “So not just some soldier. And you were probably just in it for the glory. All the stuff about passion that you talked about is probably bullshit too. Is anything you’ve told me even remotely true?”
“Special Forces operators don’t talk about their work, even retired members. It makes them targets. Makes their families targets. These are just details. You know who I am. More than most people.”