CHAPTER THREE

Faith left the shower, a towel wrapped around her waist. She walked into the living room, and David's eyes widened. He looked her up and down appreciatively and said, "Wow. Getting back with you was a good idea."

Faith giggled and said, "Why do you say that?"

She turned and let the towel fall as she did. David caught her halfway to the kitchen and decided to show his answer rather than speak it.

After, they sat together on the couch, Faith's head on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. The past three weeks had pretty much been endless sex and cuddling, which made it feel exactly like what it was intended to be: a fresh start for the two of them.

And it had been wonderful right up until the week before when Faith had learned of Decker's murder and West's presumed decision to target everyone she had ever mentioned during their sessions. Now, Faith worried that once more, David was in danger.

She hadn't told him yet. The last time she had asked him to leave town, he had done so, but the stress of leaving his patients for several weeks had prompted their earlier separation.

But it was selfish not to tell him. She couldn't allow him to remain in danger. The past several nights she had barely slept for fear that she would wake to a phone call from the Bureau telling her that David had been found cut apart just like all of West's victims.

She pushed herself to an upright position. David looked questioningly at her, and when he saw her expression, she noticed tension come to his face. It hurt to see because she knew it meant he was going to resist what she had to say.

"I have to tell you something," she said.

"All right," he replied cautiously.

She took a deep breath and said, "West killed someone else."

"I'm sorry to hear that," David replied. "Someone you knew?"

"Someone I used to know," she said. "Not for a long time, but I did know him."

"I see," he said noncommittally. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, "I'm fine. Like I said, I hadn't known him in a long time, but… I know you."

His lips thinned, and Faith could tell he knew what was coming. "You think he's after me again?"

"I don't know for sure that he ever stopped being after you," she said. "I think he might have just been forced away because of the investigation. What I do know is that he's killing again, and he still seems interested in people connected to me."

"So this person he killed," David said, "how close were the two of you?"

"Not particularly. We just served together in the war for a few months."

Skepticism came into David's eyes and voice. "Okay. And you're sure that he was targeted because of you? This isn't just one of West's random killings?"

"No," she said, "it's definitely not random."

"Where was this killing?" he asked. "Here, in Philadelphia?"

"No," she said, "it was in California, a place called Lucerne Valley."

He sighed and said, "Well, I'm very sorry, Faith, and I'm not trying to belittle your feelings or the fact that a man is dead, but are you really sure that it has anything to do with you?"

She blinked. "Well, yeah. Why else would West target him?"

"That's what I'm trying to say," David replied. "Maybe he didn't target him. Maybe he's just in hiding in California, and he attacked someone opportunistically. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with you at all. You said you only knew this guy for a few months in the Marines, right?"

"Yeah, but West did target him."

"But why does that have something to do with you? If he was targeting people close to you, then he would come after me or Michael."

"That's what I'm saying," Faith insisted, "I'm afraid he will come after you."

"But why kill someone you barely knew first? You've known lots of people, Faith. Maybe you just happened to know this victim."

"No," she said, "I… I mentioned him to West in a session."

David lifted an eyebrow. "So he was important to you."

"No!" Faith insisted more sharply than she intended. His insistence reminded her of West's own words to her when she spoke of Decker. "He just came up. A lot of people just came up."

"So why put himself at risk just in the hope that a random past association with someone might cause you guilt? Why allow yourself to feel guilt?"

"I didn't say I was guilty," she replied, "I just worry about you."

"Well, don't," he said, a little testily, probably because he knew what was coming. "We've been through this before, Faith. I really don't want to go through it again, not after we've agreed to start over."

Faith's heart broke, but it would break further if David was hurt. "I know, but this is different. He's actually killing people close to me now."

"So he was close to you."

"No, I…" Faith felt herself getting angry, but she knew it wouldn't help to allow her emotions to rule her now. She took a breath to steady herself and said, "I don't know exactly what West is thinking beyond that he wants to hurt me."

That wasn't precisely true, but Faith didn't want to get into an in-depth explanation of West's motives right now. "I'm just saying, since he is active again, the FBI is offering surveillance to anyone close to me, and—David, please just listen!"

David had stood in the middle of that sentence and placed his hands on the back of his head. He paced around the living room, shaking his head. "Faith, I can't keep having this argument with you. I can't leave Philadelphia again."

"But—"

"Faith, no," he said sharply. He softened his voice and sighed. "Look, he's on the other side of the country right now. What's he going to do, come back here to Philadelphia where there are several different federal and local agencies hunting for him, and try to kill me just to hurt you?"

"Yes," Faith said, "absolutely he will. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but one day."

"Well, the one-day part is the part that's frustrating, Faith. I can't just leave indefinitely and wait for you to tell me that everything's safe again. I almost lost my practice the last time."

"You'll definitely lose your practice if you're dead," she pointed out.

"Faith, the answer's no," he said in exasperation.

"So you're just going to stick around and wait for him to find you?"

"I'm going to live my life without fear," he replied. "Plenty of people die every day. Some of them are even murdered. Most of them aren't targets of anything. They're just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Exactly," Faith said, "the wrong place."

"That's not my point."

"No," Faith said, fear turning to anger and adding belligerence to her voice. "Your point is that you should just wait around for a man who has explicitly threatened to murder you to do exactly as he promised he would, and I should just, what… wait for it to happen?"

"I'm not going to argue with you about this," he said, grabbing his clothes and starting to dress. "Faith, I accepted when I started dating you—both times—that being in love with an FBI agent meant there was a possibility I would lose you to violence. You don't think I worry every time you go out there in the field? You don't think it keeps me up at night knowing you do things like split up from your partner to chase a serial killer in an underground mine that's unmapped and unstable? You don't think that scares me? You don't think it pisses me off to know how little you value your own life at times?"

Faith lowered her eyes. She didn't have an answer for him.

"I'm not going to tell you to quit your job, Faith," David continued. "I want to." She lifted her eyes to him in surprise. "Yeah," he affirmed. "I want you to quit sometimes. I hate that I'll always be second place to your job—" she began to protest, and he held up his hand "—I accept that your job has to come first, and I'm not asking you to change. I'm only saying that I wish sometimes that you weren't in the FBI out risking your life regularly hunting psychotic and dangerous men.

"But you are, and you'll keep doing it. If I asked you to stop now, if I told you to quit your job or I would break up with you, would you?"

She lowered her eyes again and softly said, "No."

"No," he repeated, "and I wouldn't ask you to because I know how important your work is to you. Well, my work is important to me, Faith. Just because I'm not out rescuing people and hunting bad guys doesn't mean that I don't value what I do. Every job carries risk. Every life carries risk. But I think even you would agree that your job—your life—carries more risk than mine."

Faith hated that argument. She hated that it was true. At any given moment, Faith was in more danger than David was.

And while David might never have asked her to change, several others had. Michael, in particular, had been very vocal about his disapproval of her tendency to ignore or dismiss risk in her pursuit of killers. She wouldn't change, even knowing that he was right.

But she wished like hell that David would just do as she asked. Didn't he know how much more important his life was to Faith than her own life?

Well, she couldn't exactly tell him that , could she?

Her phone rang. Michael. She looked up at David, and he nodded. "It's okay," he said softly. "Take it." He smiled sadly. "Knowing that you can get called away at any moment is another thing I have to accept."

She offered the ghost of a smile in return and answered. "Hello?"

"Well, you sound just overjoyed to hear my voice," Michael said drily.

"You seem equally excited to call," she replied just as drily.

"Story of my life," he said. "We have another case. Boss wants us in the office within the hour. I plan to be there in exactly fifty-nine minutes, which leaves me enough time to stop for coffee at the Morning Glory. If you want, you can meet me there. Otherwise, I'll see you in the office."

"I'll meet you there," she said. "I could use some coffee."

"Works for me. See you soon."

She hung up and said, "Before I leave, David, I want you to know that I understand what you're saying—"

"Let's leave it at that," he interrupted, not unkindly.

She lowered her gaze and nodded.