Riven (Mirus 2)
Page 14
Chapter 5
“I’m sorry for bringing you to a place like this, but waiting in the bus station is out of the question. Too out in the open.”
Marley stood just inside the doorway, her back to the corner, while Ian made a sweep of their dingy room in the no-tell motel across from the bus station in podunk Oklahoma. Impatience simmered beneath her skin, but she held herself still, waiting. She’d gotten good at waiting in the four days since they’d escaped Washington, zigzagging across the country to muddy their trail.
The thump of his bag to the floor was as good as an “All clear.” Ian turned toward the tiny coffeemaker, carrying the carafe to the sink in the back. More bad coffee. He’d been pouring it down her by the gallon, keeping her awake. He’d stonewalled any and all of her questions, insisting it wasn’t safe to talk in public. Well, thanks to a broken down bus somewhere further up the route, he’d just lost that excuse.
“I don’t want more coffee.”
Ian continued to pour water into the machine. “You want the shower first? I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’re cleaned up.”
“No, I don’t want the goddamned shower. I want answers, Ian.” The reasonable tone she’d intended went out the window when he just stared at her with those dark, unreadable eyes. “I’ve been a good little fugitive, taking direction, doing everything you’ve asked, while we crossed through I don’t know how many states—”
“Seventeen.”
Of course, he would know that. She stalked over. “I’m done. I haven’t slept since we left D.C., I’m fresh out of patience, and you’re out of time.” She jabbed at his chest to punctuate the declaration, which hurt her finger way more than it hurt him. “I’m not going anywhere else, doing anything else, until you’re straight with me.”
“We’re operating on a need-to-know basis. I’ve told you what you need to know.” The statement rolled off his tongue with practiced ease—a ranking military officer to a subordinate.
“Bullshit! You’ve told me only the barest of details. We’re not on a fucking mission. And I’m not some brainwashed underling who’s going to follow orders without question. I need to know as it’s my life on the line.”
She could all but see the wheels turning in his brain, trying to analyze and assess, figure out how to put her off again.
“There are things I can’t tell you. Things that would put your life in even more jeopardy than it already is.”
“It seems to me dead is dead, so there’s no sense in splitting hairs.”
His long sigh was the first sign he was every bit as tired as she was. The coffeemaker beeped, and he turned to pour a cup for them both.
Marley took the mug he offered and tried to find some calm. He was a man of logic and reason. She could appeal to that. “Put yourself in my position. You wouldn’t act without facts. Why should I? I don’t even know who you really are.”
“I’m someone who wants to help you.”
“So you keep saying. But why? In my experience, people don’t put their ass on the line for anybody else unless there’s something in it for them.”
She kept her voice neutral. He’d been very careful not to touch her since the first day. Nothing he’d said or done had made her feel threatened, but she knew better than to take that for granted.
“I expect nothing from you. I swear on my honor.”
It should’ve sounded ridiculous, melodramatic. But as the words fell from his lips, they sounded like nothing less than a promise. Despite her better judgment, until he proved otherwise, she was willing to believe he was a man of honor and integrity.
“Then why?” she asked softly.
Ian lifted a hand, rubbed it over his short hair and down the back of his neck. "You’re the cherry blossom.”
Marley blinked, not sure what to make of the unexpected reply. "Sorry?"
“Collateral damage,” he spat. “Don’t get involved. That’s the fundamental rule I’m supposed to live by. The nature of my work requires I stay under the radar. By all official records, I don’t even exist. I’m supposed to follow orders, and if there are unintended consequences to the public at large, so be it. The mission takes priority. I’ve always been able to do that because they never involved a face. A name. Someone I’d met.” Ian stared her down, begging her to understand.
Marley’s blood turned to ice as a new fear came to life. “And your orders involved me?” Had she unwittingly gone away with the man sent to kill her?
“No. No. My orders had nothing to do with you. They didn’t even have anything to do with the Nix--that's what you saw. He wasn’t why I was there. But the point is I was there. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I knew what that meant for you, and I couldn’t just walk away. I couldn’t let them kill you.”
“And exactly who are they?”
Ian made another jerky circuit of the room, lacing his hands behind his head and staring at the water-stained ceiling as if it held the answer to how he was supposed to deal with her and her incessant questions. She wondered if he regretted his choice to save her.
“I have a right to know, Ian.”