Code Name - Hacker (Jameson Force Security 4)

CHAPTER 26Griffin“Are you about ready to go?” Bebe asks as she zips the large suitcase we’d brought with us to New York a mere four days ago. “I’m going to check the bathroom one more time.”

She’s been in mother mode since I was released from the hospital yesterday. I’d been in just a little over twenty-four hours, but it was so late in the day by the time I finally got released we decided to stay the night in a hotel before driving back to Pittsburgh today.

Yesterday afternoon and evening, I spent most of the time in bed sleeping. Granted, my gunshot wound wasn’t overly serious—infection being the thing they were most worried about and why they wanted to get IV antibiotics in me. But there was a level of exhaustion I didn’t feel like battling, so I was grateful for the extra day of rest before we traveled.

Bebe was by my side the entire time, hovering over me any time I woke from a nap, wanting to do something for me. I assured her I was fine, let her feed me when she was hungry, and I slept hard.

But this morning, I’m ready to get on with things. I’m going to be on leave from the FBI for at least a week while I recuperate, and there’s no place I’d rather be than back in Pittsburgh with Bebe. Not to mention, I don’t technically have a home right now. I’d given up my D.C. apartment years ago when I went undercover, but that’s irrelevant.

The point being… I don’t want to leave Bebe’s side right now. While I got shot, she’s been through more of an emotional turmoil than anyone else, and I’m a bit worried about her.

Okay, a lot worried about her. I learned things about her that I never imagined, and I need some closure with it. I need to know if she’s okay now that Bogachev’s dead.

She crosses the room, briefly disappears into the bathroom, then reappears carrying the small shampoo and conditioner bottles the hotel provides. She holds them up with a sheepish smile. “I can never leave these behind.”

From my position sitting on the edge of the bed, I watch as she moves back to the suitcase and stuffs the mini bottles into a side pocket. Turning back to me, she says, “Okay… I’ll call the valet to bring our car to the front. I can handle the suitcase so we won’t need a bellman.”

“Hey,” I say softly, holding my hand out. “Come here a minute and let’s talk.”

Bebe tilts her head, her expression quizzical. “Are you okay?”

I level a chastising look, patting the mattress beside me. “Get your butt over here and sit.”

There’s no hesitation. She takes a seat beside me, angling her body slightly so she can look me in the eye. “What’s up? You’re not having second thoughts about going to Pittsburgh, are you?”

“No, not at all,” I assure her, taking her hand in mine. “It’s just… we haven’t had a chance to talk about what happened. And I’m worried about you.”

Bebe blinks in surprise, leaning in slightly. “Worried about me? You’re the one who was shot… almost killed. Why would you be worried about me?”

My heart is heavy that I need to press this upon her, but I need to know. “He raped you.”

She doesn’t flinch. Blink. Doesn’t even suck in a deep breath.

Instead, Bebe smiles. A soft one… a little nostalgic, but I detect nothing else there. No sadness, bitterness, or shame.

“He did,” she replies simply. “It was before I stole the codes. I’d wanted out, and it was his way of putting me in my place. He also threatened Aaron’s life. It was effective because I went through with it.”

“He raped you,” I repeat, this time not to get verification but to let her know how that affected me. “And I was so angry when I learned that. Rageful. In my entire life, I’ve never wanted to kill someone. But I wanted him dead. I tried to kill him, Bebe. Had my hands been free… he’d be dead because of me instead of Kynan. That’s how furious I was—I was willing to take a man’s life because of it. And now… all I can think is if I felt that way about it—had such strong emotions because it happened to my girlfriend—what in the hell were you possibly going through? You’re the one who was violated and destroyed by that man. What the hell were you feeling? How did you survive that? What are you feeling now? Before we get in the car and head off to a future together, I need to know how you’re doing and what I can do to make it better. How do I fix things for you that might still be broken? Just tell me—”