Savage Company (Company Men Book 3) Page 7

  “My job, and how we met.”

  “What else?”

  “Nothing. What happened between us—what we shared—was real, and true.”

  “Bullshit.”

  It’s not, but I understand his anger, and let it go. He wants to lash out, and I’ll let him. To a point. I’m not about to become anyone’s punching bag.

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “You slept with him.”

  “That’s not a question, but yes.”

  “More than just him?”

  “Yes. I had to survive.”

  “Surviving, and being a mob whore are two different things.”

  “Get out.”

  “Hit a sore spot, huh?”

  “Get. Out.”

  “If this was real for you, you wouldn’t be asking me to leave!”

  “No. If this was real for you, you wouldn’t be calling me a whore. You’d be asking me what happened, or being supportive because you knew I had to endure certain things to survive.”

  “Don’t turn this shit on me.”

  “How many women did I watch you leave the bar with before we got together? How many women did you sleep with before Vegas?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “No, it’s not. I was fighting for my life, while you were just getting your rocks off.”

  “Classy talk right there.”

  “Just leave, Haring. There is nothing left for either of us to say. You thought I was different, and I thought you were different. Now, we both know we were wrong.”

  “I was never anyone else. I never had an agenda. So again, this right here in not on me.”

  I don’t argue with him, because it wouldn’t make a difference. He may not have had an agenda, but the man I fell in love with wouldn’t use that word to describe someone he cared about—or even someone he didn’t. I can forgive a lot, but I can’t forgive that.

  I was willing to give up my life for him today. No matter what lies I told him, I protected him in that basement. I’m not going to say I’m glad I didn’t, because he never deserved to die. But, I don’t deserve to be labeled as something shameful just because my past doesn’t meet his standards. What he said to me doesn’t meet mine.

  It’s over. So much is finally over, and while I don’t know what’s going to happen next, I know freedom is within my grasp, and I’m going to hold onto it with both hands. I earned this, and I’m going to take what I deserve, and not look back. Broken hearts heal eventually, right?

  Haring

  “What did she say?” Matisse asks, when I walk back into the conference room Jake’s mother let us converge in.

  “Nothing I wanted to hear.”

  “You’re not being cryptic at all.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. We’re done, I’m apparently safe now, and I just want to get back to Vegas.”

  “Did you give her a chance to explain what she was doing? What she did?” Jake demands.

  “I asked her a couple questions, and she answered them.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “It’s none of your business, Jake, unless you’re interested in being more than her friend. You cool with that, Isa?”

  “Haring!” Matisse uses my real name, letting me know she’s upset with me, but I just don’t care.

  “Leave it. Please. Just let me go back to Vegas, and get my life together. Again.”

  “You called it ‘Vegas’ and not ‘home’. Are you planning to leave, and come back here?”

  “No. I’m staying there. This city is my past.”

  She lets it go, and I’m thankful for that. I didn’t call Vegas home, because my home is in the office I just walked out of. The woman I just insulted, out of jealousy and hurt, is my home. I’ll never get over her, but I can focus everything I have on work, and hope it’s enough. Enough to numb the pain that’s encompassing all of me right now.

  No one talks to me on the ride to the airport, or on the Corrigan jet that takes us back across the country. They talk to each other, and play some board games, but give me a wide berth. That’s not hard on this spacious jet, which makes me thankful once again for Matt Corrigan.

  I eat, and I sleep. That’s all I know how to do since I didn’t bring anything to work on. I could use an onboard computer, but this is the last break I’m giving myself. Tomorrow, it’s all work, all the time.

  Matisse shakes me awake when we land, and I can see in her eyes that she’s done letting me sulk. “We’re riding alone in my car.”

  “Is that you asking?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “I’m not happy with Natasha, but from what I understand, she was ultimately willing to sacrifice herself for you. Against direct orders.”

  “It doesn’t change what she did. She could’ve told me once we became…whatever it was we were.”

  “No, she couldn’t.”

  “Don’t be on her side; it’s not a good look.”

  “This isn’t about sides, because you know I’m always on yours. I just want you to realize that her life isn’t so much different from mine. The longest I’ve ever had to be on a mission is a week, and Reina wouldn’t send anyone in for years, but the secrets have to be kept. Even with the Doc being part of the Society, I can’t tell him everything.”

  “You never pretended to be in love with him.”

  “Is that what she told you? That it was pretend for her? Because she wouldn’t be trying to save you if it was fake.”

  “She said it was real, but how can I believe anything she says? She slept with those men, worked alongside them, killed with them, slept with them.” Yeah, I said it more than once, because it’s like a knife in my heart.

  “The world isn’t black and white. If I wasn’t in a relationship, and the situation came up, who’s to say I wouldn’t sleep with someone I was trying to take down?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would. I’m sorry if it disappoints you, but I would. And don’t you dare try to judge me—or her—because sleeping with some random woman in a bar is no better, or worse. It’s life, and the choices we sometimes have to make. We’ve all made both good and bad ones. None of us has the right to be judge and jury for each other.”

  “We’ll just have to disagree.”

  She shakes her head as we pull into the garage below our apartments. “I love you. You know I love you, and appreciate all you’ve done for me. But, I can’t accept this from you. Mom and Dad didn’t raise us to be like the person you’re telling me you are.”

  “Mom wouldn’t have lied to Dad.”

  “If she was a spy, trying to save the world, yeah, she would’ve.”

  “Saving the world, one bed at a time. Maybe Reina can use that on promotional materials.”

  The slap across my face is deserved, but unexpected. “Grow up, Haring, and start acting like a man, and not a little boy who finds out his favorite toy has been played with before he had it. This self-righteous bullshit doesn’t look so hot on you right now.”

  “Maybe I just needed some comfort, and love from my sister, instead of a take-down of my character.”

  “If you were being a grown-up, you’d realize I was giving you tough love, because that’s what you need.”

  “Stop saying I’m a kid, Matisse, because you’re pissing me off.”

  “Good. It means you’re feeling something. I just want to know you’re not a robot, who has no feelings.”

  “I’m feeling too much! I need to stop feeling, because it hurts so fucking much to feel!”

  She wraps her arms around me, holding me as I shake. “I love you, Degas.”

  “I love you too, Claudel. So much.”

  I lose track of time as I take comfort from my sister. I know she’s right, and I needed that tough love, but I was right, too. I need comfort, and normalcy, and just to know there’s someone who’s always going to be there for me. Matisse will always love me, no matter w
hat happens in either of our lives.

  We’ve let others in, but it’s still us against the world sometimes, and I think it always will be. We lived through tragedy, and while that’s not exclusive to us, our specific heartache belongs to us. It bonds us almost more than our blood does.

  I was stupid to think another woman in this world would love me unconditionally. My life has always been full of conditions, and I’ve steeled myself for the reality of it always being this way. Now, I just have to focus on the things I can control—work, life choices, and friends. Nothing else is ever going to matter to me again, especially not a woman.

  10

  Natasha

  After years of putting on an act, and being who I needed to be, I can finally be myself. The problem is, I no longer know who that is. Am I the woman I was when I first entered the military? The one who wore jeans, and band t-shirts with Vans on her feet? Or am I the femme fatale who’s cultivated the vintage seductress look for years now? Maybe I’m the woman in-between, who wore her uniform like a shield, hiding her curves because she wanted to be taken seriously. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m all of them. Or none of them.

  I have plenty of time to contemplate all of this, since I have nothing to do. The bar is closed, and all of the men and women who worked there have been taken into custody. I never cultivated any friendships outside of my work, and although Jake left a message with an open invitation for dinner, I’m not ready to take him and Isa up on it yet.

  So, yeah, I’ve spent the last week just lying around, and watching Bravo. I haven’t decided which set of Housewives is my favorite, and I want to slap most of them most of the time, but I can’t seem to change the channel. I wouldn’t say they’re a train wreck—more like just a wreck, and honestly, they kind of fascinate me. Who lives like that? I guess I could, since I have a lot of money saved, but I don’t need a mansion. I might buy a cool car, and a bigger TV, but that’s the extent of luxury for me.

  Speaking of purchases, I have something I need to buy. That means putting on actual clothes, and leaving the house. I could have it delivered, the same way I’ve done with my groceries, but becoming a hermit is not what I’m aiming for. I wasn’t ashamed when Haring called me what he did, because I know it’s not true. Hiding out makes it seem like I did something wrong, and while I can admit that I did, I’m not a bad person, and I refuse to live like one.

  Since I couldn’t get my old clothes when I was in D.C., I have to settle for the temptress look, although I tone it down by keeping my natural curls, and not putting make-up on. Once I’m at the mall, I decide I should just buy some new clothes too, while I’m already here.

  My real credit card is finally seeing the light of day after many years of lying dormant, and I leave with much more than I expected. Jeans, t-shirts, Vans, sexy dresses, designer heels, purses, fun jewelry, and even some new lingerie. There’s also a bag with my new gaming system, and games, which is what I came for. I haven’t gamed in years, but I need to shoot some things right now, and nothing beats Call of Duty. Well, putting a bullet in someone you despise is better, but that’s not currently an option.

  Arriving back at my loft, I find Jake leaning against my door. “Surprise.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You haven’t taken my wife and I up on our dinner offer. I came by to make sure you weren’t sitting around in your pajamas, eating ice cream, and shooting things on your TV.”

  “If you’d come by a few hours ago, you would’ve nailed the PJs. I ran out of ice cream last night, and I just bought the gaming system,” I tell him, holding up the bag.

  “You had to know he’d be hurt,” he says, grabbing most of the bags from my hands as I open the door, and motion him inside.

  “Yes, I knew.”

  “Yet you’re giving up.”

  “There’s nothing to fight for, which would make fighting a pathetic option.”

  “There’s always something to fight for when it comes to love.”

  “Not everyone is like you and Isa. Or any of the other grand romance tales from C&C.”

  “No, not everyone is, but you and Haring are. I saw the way you looked at him, both at the barbeque and in that basement. More importantly, I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you saw, it doesn’t matter anymore. Just leave it alone, please.”

  “Nat.”

  “Please, Jake.”

  “Come to dinner at least.”

  “Let me guess, you invited Haring too, and we’ll accidentally bump into each other.”

  “The two of you belong together.”

  “Come by for dinner tomorrow. Just you and Isa.”

  “Dammit, why are you so stubborn?”

  “Because I have to be. I need to protect myself, and shoot some online baddies.”

  “We’ll be here tomorrow, and I’ll try to log on later tonight to help you remember what you’re doing.”

  I swat at his arm, as we both laugh. “See you then.”

  “I love you, you know that.”

  “I love you too. Go home to your wife, and your other dinner guest. Have fun, and try not to worry about me.”

  “Not going to happen. Never going to happen.”

  “Same.”

  We hug, and he goes on his way. To dinner with Haring. The man my pride refuses to even allow me to consider. Yeah, I wallowed, but now I’m moving on. I have no choice but to move on. Not if I want to survive, and I didn’t come this far to fall apart.

  Haring

  Isa’s trying to make small talk with me, but I can tell it’s not her thing. She’s a nice woman, but she’d rather be anywhere but here. There are worse places I could be, so this isn’t bad, but I take pity on her.

  “I should probably leave.”

  “Jake should be here any minute.”

  “Is he alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “She wouldn’t come with him?”

  “No,” she admits, blushing a little. I knew this was a set-up, but I came anyway. I’m not going to try and analyze the reasons why.

  “Good. I like you, Isa, and I like Jake, but you need to leave this alone. Natasha and I are over.”

  “He wants her to be happy.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you? It doesn’t make you jealous, knowing they slept together?”

  “No, and no. What Jake did before we met isn’t relevant to our life. My husband worships me, and I, him.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I am lucky.”

  “We’re both lucky,” Jake says.

  I turn, and see the murderous intent on his face. I didn’t hear him come in, so I don’t know how much he heard. Nothing I said was good, so I deserve whatever he’s about to unleash on me.

  “I didn’t mean to insult you, or what you have.”

  “Yet you did.”

  “You tried to manufacture a meeting between two people who don’t want to ever see each other again.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You think she wants to see me?”

  “I think you want to see her. And yes, I believe she wants to see you, even if she denies it.”

  “Too much happened between us.”

  “You went through a lot, but nowhere near what Isa and I did. We made it through everything—and everyone—that was against us, and now we’re going to be together forever.”

  “Yes, we are,” Isa says, wrapping her arms around him.

  His face immediately softens, and his arms engulf her. He was close to pummeling me, but now he’s holding his wife in his arms, and his expression is full of love. Only love. I want that. I had it, but it’s gone now, and I want it back. Just not with Natasha. And yes, I’m lying to myself yet again.

  “I appreciate you thinking you could help, but you can’t.”

  “Why? Why are the two of you so fucking stubborn? I know you love each other.”

  “Love just isn’t enough in this situation.”

  “
Love is always enough. It just depends on how willing you are to fight for it.”

  “Right now, I’m not so willing.”

  “And neither is she.”

  Those words shouldn’t send a knife through my heart, but they do. I don’t want to want her. I don’t want to love her. I don’t want her to love me. All the lies I keep telling myself, and everyone else.

  “Thanks again for the invite, but I’m going to go back to my place now.”

  “Take some food with you, at least,” Isa says.

  “That, I will do.” I’m never going to turn down a home-cooked meal.

  While she packs up some containers for me, Jake starts his own small talk attempt. “Are you going to play tonight?”

  “Call of Duty? Maybe.”

  “Cool. I’ll look for you.”

  I thank Isa for the food, and make my escape. Once I’m back in my apartment, I look around, mentally cataloguing all the changes I need to make. Need, not want. Natasha and I spent too much time here, and when I look around, all I can see is her. The different surfaces I made love to her on, the way she wrapped her arms around me while I made her omelets in the mornings. The coffee maker, because she couldn’t function without at least two cups of coffee. All of it is too much.

  Because I love her. I love Natasha, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I don’t have it in me to fight for her right now, but one day I might. I went too far, and I’ll have to own that with her, but I can see myself groveling. Again, not right now, but I’m not going to say it’s not happening ever, because I can no longer imagine a world where I won’t love her.

  For now, I eat my food, and decide to go online, and shoot some imaginary enemies. Jake is online, like he said he’d be, but he’s playing with someone new. I don’t recognize the name, but I ask to join them. It’s always more fun to play together.

  The new player is good, and we continue to play long into the night, and early morning. Even after Jake logs off, we’re playing together. 1BadGuyAtATime and I make plans to play again tomorrow, giving me something to look forward to for the first time in a week. We trash talked each other, encouraged each other, and just had fun. It’s about time I made some new friends who aren’t connected to Matisse, or Natasha.