Behind Closed Doors (Rochester Trilogy 3.50)

He puts one hand on my cheek. “You have to trust me.”

“Why would I trust you?” I aim another set of punches at his chest, but he doesn’t let me get to him. He takes both of my hands in one of his and holds them close to his body. I’m still within arm’s reach. I could keep trying to fight, but I don’t.

“If I leave, they’ll just send someone else.”

“Then I’ll run. Get out of my way and let me run. I’ll go where they’ll never find me.”

“It’s the CIA, Marjorie. If you run, they’ll come after you.”

“How do you know that? I could become anyone. I could go anywhere.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“They’ll send someone like me.” His eyes are apologetic, and it makes me want to comfort him. That’s how I got into this situation in the first place. By being a good person. By wanting to make things better for this man who is about to ruin everything. “They’ll send someone worse than me. Someone who doesn’t care at all about his targets.”

“Oh, and you care? You just called me a target.”

“I don’t think of you that way, but they will.” Frustration creeps into his voice.

“I still don’t trust you. I’m never going to trust you.” Betrayal makes my stomach hurt.

“Marjorie—” He clenches his jaw, eyes flashing. He’s trying to stay calm and stoic. That’s what he does. He hurts people and he’s unemotional about it. But when Sam looks back into my eyes, there’s something else there. He wants me to trust him. Well, he got his wish. I did trust him.

“I can’t trust your word,” I tell him. “I don’t know anything about you. You gave me a fake name. You’ve searched my property. And I think maybe you slept with me—”

“No.”

“Maybe you slept with me because you thought I’d tell you some secret you wanted.”

“No.” He grips my chin tight. “I wanted you. Sleeping with you wasn’t part of the job. I could lose everything for doing that. For feeling—for feeling fucking anything at all.”

“Fine. But that doesn’t mean I should trust you.”

“There’s no one else.” It’s true, and it hurts. I don’t have any family to defend me now. “I’m the one who’s here. And I think that if you look back at the time we’ve spent together, you’ll know you can trust me.”

“What proof have you given me?”

“We played a game. And you liked it. I pretended to be an asshole. I was rough with you. You weren’t afraid. You enjoyed yourself. I’ve never hurt you. I searched your things, yes. I could have done worse. Some of the other agents would have done much fucking worse. They would have killed you without having a discussion, Marjorie, and I didn’t. I’ve kept my word.”

“This hurts.” Hot tears run wet my skin. “I hate this.”

“I know. It’s not going to get better. I can’t take any of this back. I—” His other hand comes up to cradle my face, and Sam looks into my eyes. I’ve never seen sadness like this. “I don’t deserve your trust. But you have to give it to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t let anyone else hurt you, either. I have to keep you safe.”

All I want is for him to hold me. It’s the worst feeling. It’s a sure sign that I don’t know what I’m doing. I shouldn’t trust anything Sam says. I shouldn’t allow him to touch me. I should have gone for a weapon. A kitchen knife, maybe. That’s all I have.

“Keeping me safe isn’t what your job is. Clearly.”

“No. It’s not.” Sam leans in like he wants to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. And I want him to not have done this. “My job is not to keep you safe, but I want that. I gave you my word, and I don’t do that lightly. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to let anybody else touch you. But I can’t do that if you run away. Can you just trust me for a fucking minute so I can keep you alive? Can you trust me right now?”

I should want to tear myself out of his hands, slap him across the face, and run, but I don’t.

That will only make him chase me.

Instead, I relax my body, let out a breath, and stop trying to free my hands. “Fine. I’ll trust you now.” I’m lying. Sam lied to me, and now I’m lying to him. I don’t trust him. I don’t want him. I’m searching for a way out. “Can you just give me a minute? This is a lot to take in.”

Sam drops my hands. I’m disappointed when he lets go. Betrayed that he’d do it, even though I asked him to. “One minute,” he says. “I need to make a plan.”