Chapter Twenty-Two

Natasha

"The freezer is fully stocked," Inara says as she sets two of Doc's duffel bags next to the overstuffed couch in the main room. "Fresh stuff…anything you need, you can order through the tablet on the counter. It'll be delivered to the lockers downstairs. Combination is next to the tablet, along with the wi-fi password."

I pull off the sunglasses and oversized floppy hat she gave me before we left Doc's house. She was confident the vague "disguise" would protect me if we happened to be caught on any traffic cameras.

"Facial recognition is both smart and incredibly stupid at the same time. The sunglasses and hat make you unrecognizable. If the camera can't see the shape of your eyes, the curve of your forehead, and the angle of your chin, it can't make a positive ID."

I wish my life didn't depend on her being right.

"Stay inside unless one of us is with you. But there's privacy film on all the windows, so even at night, no one will be able to see in. We have all the movie channels and an encrypted high-speed internet connection." With a musical chuckle, Inara gestures to the flat screen TV on the wall. "We hope you'll leave us a five-star review at the end of your stay."

"Keep us alive, and we'll sing your praises…well…nowhere," Doc says.

"I'm headed back to your house." Inara glances at her phone, then shoves it into her back pocket. "Wyatt and I will stay there for the next few nights. If anyone comes looking for you, they'll get a hell of a lot more than they bargained for. Natasha, you can call Gladys from that new phone West gave you. It's perfectly safe as long as you don't tell her where you are."

"She's going to hate me. I've been lying to her for years." I have to call Gladys soon. She's supposed to go back to Blakely tomorrow. But how am I supposed to tell her I couldn't trust her?

Doc cups the back of my neck and touches his forehead to mine. "She'll understand, baby. She loves you like a daughter."

"She won't when this is all over. If this is ever all over." For a time, surrounded by obviously lethal men and women at Doc's home, I held on to a spark of hope. But now, I can't seem to find it again.

"Natasha, this is what we do." Inara touches a pink stone pendant hanging at the hollow of her throat. "I've worked with Ryker for more than six years. West joined us almost five years ago. Graham, a few months after that. Wyatt's the new guy, but he and West went through BUD/s together. Raelynn…well, I suspect Doc told you a little about her. She almost died in April. The asshole cut off part of her ear. And less than forty-eight hours later, she dragged her unconscious boyfriend out of a burning warehouse with a bum knee, two broken toes, and a concussion."

My God.

"We're the best at what we do. That's not a brag. It's a fact. Why do you think Ry chose a former PJ as our on-call doc?"

At my side, Doc straightens. "He never told me why he picked me. Or how he found me."

"You'll have to ask him for that story." Inara offers him a small smile. "I need to go to the warehouse before I head back to West Seattle. I'll pick up a wig that'll match Natasha's hair and change into something a little more…flexible." She smooths her hands down her slim pencil skirt. Apparently, she works as a translator when she's not saving people all over the world, and she came to Doc's house right from work. "You need anything, call Ry. He's handling comms for this one."

With a wave, she slips through the door, and we're alone.

For a short while, I manage to pretend everything's okay. We order groceries, and I learn that Doc actually taught himself to cook after he left the Air Force.

He promises me chicken piccata for dinner, along with garlic bread and fresh green beans. My mouth waters, but by the time everything arrives, I'll have called Gladys. Will I have any appetite left after that?

"What's wrong, baby?" Doc asks, pressing a kiss to my neck and sliding his arm around my waist.

"I'm fine." The overwhelming sadness in those two simple words fills the room, expanding into every corner until I can taste my own helplessness.

"Don't lie to me, Natasha. You're not fine." His words hold such pain. I remember what Graham said to me in the hospital.

"Doc doesn't lie. The man is about as straight and narrow as they come. Yet he trusts you enough he's willing to do it for you."

I haven't trusted anyone that much since Logan died. But maybe…I could try.

"Even if West and his team can do everything they claim, Bastian could still find me. Maybe not today or this month or even this year. But he will never stop looking for me. And when he finds me, he will kill me."

"Fucking hell. No. He'll never touch you again. Not while you're with me."

Doc is a protector to his very core. It's all he knows. All he is. Every cell in my body wants to believe him. But he doesn't know Bastian. I do.

"I can't lose you." I take his hand, holding on with all my strength. "Somewhere in the middle of all of this…I started falling in love with you, Doc. If Bastian finds me—when he finds me—you have to let me go."

"No fucking way. How can you ask me that, Natasha? If you really are falling in love with me, how can you be okay with letting me go?"

"Because it's the only way to keep you alive."

We face off for almost a minute before Doc tries to pick up one of the heavy duffel bags he brought from his home. With a grunt, his grip fails, and the bag hits the floor.

"Let me get that." I can't stand to see him hurting. He won't take anything stronger than ibuprofen, which he's been popping like candy since the moment he got up this morning.

As if he needs to prove—to himself and to me—that he can protect me, he tries again. This time, he manages to haul it onto his shoulder.

"Dammit! Stop!" I stalk down the hall after him. He doesn't get to walk away from me. Not like this. I'm so tired of feeling invisible. Of being invisible.

No friends. No family. No home. No future. Always pretending I'm okay.

"Put the bag down, Doc. I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, but it stops right now."

"I'm trying…to take care…of you." He's wheezing again. Fuck.

He won't look at me, instead staring out the bedroom window down at the street below.

I snuggle up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and breathing in the scent of him. "I can't lose you, Doc."

He doesn't react. His voice, when he finally speaks, holds no emotion at all. "Then how can you expect me to be okay with losing you?"

I leave him in the bedroom, stretched out on the king-sized bed with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. These bouts of wheezing could continue for days, but he brought three portable tanks with him and claims he'll be fine in half an hour.

So I curl up on the couch and stare at the new smartphone West gave me. I don't understand how it can possibly be safe to use it. Ripper tried to explain how he'd installed some sort of encryption program that would stop anyone from tracking me, but by that point, I was so tired, nothing made any sense.

Gladys picks up on the second ring. "Nat! Did you miss me?"

I'm frozen, a hundred different replies racing through my mind.

I'm sorry. I've been lying to you for years.

You have to stay in Seattle.

I'm not who you think I am.

"Baby girl, what's wrong?" In the background, I hear Bella say something before Gladys lowers her voice. "It's Nat. But she's not saying anything."

"I'm here," I manage. "Did you—did Bella find a dress?" I'm stalling. I don't know why. It won't change anything. But I need my friend more than anything right now. Even if I'm going to lose her before the end of this call.

The snort is so very Gladys. "That girl has tried on forty-seven dresses in the past five days, and none of them were ‘right.' But half the stores serve you drinks! I've been buzzed the whole time."

Warmth prickles over my skin. Gladys is so damn happy. Not about being buzzed—though she does love her vodka and beer—but about spending time with Bella.

"Why don't you stay a little longer, then? Bella shouldn't have to pick a dress on her own." I shouldn't be avoiding the truth. But I'm desperate.

"Well, I would, but she has a trial starting Monday. I'll come back next month. Besides, I don't like you being all alone for too long."

"You have to stay, Gladys. If you go back to Blakely, you'll be in danger." The words tumble from my lips so quickly, my chest tightens, and I have to suck in a sharp breath. "I'm so sorry. But I lied to you. For years. If I could take it back, I would, but I've made a mess of everything, and I can't fix it."

"Baby girl, what are you talking about? Our little island is about the safest place in the world. Unless you're talkin' about the sushi Milt tried to stock at the General Store. Last I heard, at least six of the tourists from 4th of July weekend got food poisoning."

This isn't going well.

"There are people after me, Gladys. Bad people who won't hesitate to hurt anyone and everyone I care about. You have to stay in Seattle!"

"Nat…" She sounds so lost. Confused. "Where are you right now? That sexy doctor is back in Seattle by now. I'm gonna call Clancy and get his number. He can fly me back to Blakely on his plane. He'll know what to do."

My frustration escapes in a high-pitched growl. "I'm with Doc. And you're not listening!"

Gladys huffs. "Well, it's about damn time the two of you did the horizontal tango."

"Oh, my God. That is not the conversation we're having right now. Did you hear me? If you go back to Blakely, you'll be in danger." Tears burn hot trails down my cheeks. Why did I think I could do this over the phone. I should have gone to Bella's apartment. Except I don't know where she lives.

"I heard you, baby girl. But what I ain't heard is why. Or if you and Dr. Sexy Pants are safe." In the background, Bella shouts for her aunt to put the call on speaker, but Gladys shushes her. "I'm handling it."

Handling it? She thinks she's handling it? I swipe my tears away and sit up a little straighter.

"We're safe. Doc…" How can I explain everything that's happened over the past few days?

You can't.

"Doc saved my life on Monday night. The people after me…someone broke into my house and tried to kill me. Doc heard the shot. If he hadn't been there, I'd be dead. We left Blakely and we won't be coming back. I can't tell you more, Gladys. I wish I could. But I can't."

"You mean you won't." Her harumph breaks my heart into pieces. "I thought we were friends."

"We are. Gladys, I love you. You're my only friend. But that's why I need you to listen to me. If you get hurt…" I'm barely holding myself together. "One day, I might be able to tell you why. Or…"

"Or what?" she snaps.

"Or Doc will. Please. If you care about me at all, don't go back to the island. At least not for a week or two. Stay with Bella. Go to a hotel. Anywhere but back home." I hold my breath. She has to agree. If she doesn't, I don't know what I'll do. Beg Hidden Agenda to protect her too?

Gladys sighs. "All right. I'll stay here until next week. But I expect you to call me every single day to let me know you're safe. If you don't, I'll track you and Dr. Sexy Pants down, and you'll find out why three members of JuneBug took out restraining orders against me."

She hangs up before I can sputter out a reply—or ask her why the most popular band from my youth could possibly need even one restraining order against her, let alone three.

I rub my hands up and down my thighs. I'd give anything to go for a long swim. Or kayak around the island until my arms are about ready to fall off. But trapped in this small apartment, all I can do is pace.

Until I turn around to see Doc watching me.

"You won't explain, but Doc will?" His frustration spills over, and he clenches his fists at his sides. "You still think you'll be dead—or gone—and I'll be the only one left to explain things to Gladys?"

I can't lie to him. I won't.

"Yes.

"No!" he snaps. "I'm not explaining a damn thing to Gladys. You are. I called McCabe because there's no fucking way I'm losing you."

"You won't have a choice!" I drop the phone onto the couch and stalk over to the window. People pass by on the sidewalks, couples arm-in-arm, groups of teenagers, families… Restaurants put out their sandwich boards and turn on signs.

Life is happening just below us. Beautiful, messy, sometimes even ugly. But it's life all the same. A life I'll never have.

"You have to let me go, Doc," I say softly when I turn back to face him again. "It's the only way this works."

The betrayal etched on his face crushes what's left of my heart. We stare at one another for several beats.

"Fuck it." Doc strides over to me, hauls me into his arms, and crashes his mouth into mine.

The kiss isn't gentle. Or sweet. He kisses like a man possessed. His hands rove over my body. My breasts, my back, my hips. Strong fingers dig into my ass. "You are mine, Natasha. Until you tell me you don't want me. You. Are. Mine."