Cloak and Dagger (The IMA Book 1) (38 page)

The door opened. I turned. Once again, the man wasn't Michael. It was the old guy—the one from the safe house. Kent.

I took a step back, tugging the hem of Michael's shirt down as far as it would go. “What's going on? Where's Michael?”

He took off his hat, respectfully. “Don't worry, Miss…Parker, was it?”

“
Christina,” I said, groping on the floor for some jeans without taking my eyes off him. “What are you doing here?”

“
I'm a friend.”

How neatly he sidestepped the question, giving me a detailed answer without really telling me anything. Kent went right to the fridge and got a beer. He seemed to know his way around, so that was encouraging. I was scared, though. I wrapped my hand around the telephone, ready to use it as a weapon or call the police as necessary. “Kent?”

Kent inclined his head in my direction. He didn't seem surprised I remembered his name.

“
Why are you here?”

“
Michael sent me.”

He did? “Why?”

“
Because he is a young man and doesn't respond well to emotional crises.”

“
What…kind of crises?”

Sighing, Kent produced an envelope. “This might explain things.” As he held it out to me, I noticed the seal was broken and glared at him. “He told me to read it first. I hope you don't mind.”

I did, actually, but didn't say that as I took the envelope. It was a letter, addressed to me. There was no paper inside; the actual message was written on the flap.

This man will take you to your parents. Trust him, he's a close friend of mine
.

And then, in much smaller writing,—

Thank you for everything
.

“
What is this?”

“
A goodbye.”

“
I got that part. Why?”

“
He loves you,” Kent said quietly.

I crumpled the letter in my fist. “He doesn't act like it.”

“
He can't. He has no template for relationships. But those who know him well can tell…that he gets out of character around you. Which is why he can't afford to be around you. There are many people out there who would love to get back at that man. Families of those he's killed, rivals, clients of the IMA, many more. Michael can look after himself. But you…”

He didn't say anything else; he didn't have to. I was easy prey.

“
He told me, and I quote, 'This softening she sees in me isn't enough to make me affectionate, but it's just enough to render me inept. I can't give her what she wants — virtuousness — or what she needs — protection.'” Kent shook his head. “He traveled from Michigan to Oregon with a bullet wound in order to save your life. It was rash. Reckless. Completely against his nature. I advised him against it. He insisted. He risked his life to save you and now that he's realized that you don't feel the same, he is doing it again by letting you go.”

I remembered the strange expression on his face when he found out I wouldn't betray him to Adrian. The sad smile when I told him that his apartment suggested he enjoyed his solitude. I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around at the lack of personal touches, like photographs and pictures. The apartment could have belonged to anyone. What would it be like, I wondered, to live a life without love? Maybe he
didn't
enjoy his solitude.

“
He has a hard life, Christina,” Kent said, reading my mind. “No family. Not many close friends. Out of those few, there's only one or two he would trust with his life. I am one of those lucky few. I'm not saying that what he did to you was justified — you are a young woman and he dragged you into many situations that were” — he coughed — “probably out of your league — but he must trust you quite a bit. Especially to confide in you like this. It's a big step for him.”

I stared out the window. The cloudy sky that had been so beautiful this morning was now starting to depress me.“He's so selfish.”

“
I'm not trying to apologize for his behavior. But he did his best, in the end.”

“
In the end,” I agreed. It sounded pettish.

“
If you care about him, and yourself, you'll let him go. Some people,” and here, he sighed, looking wistful, “Truly aren't meant to be together.”

I wondered who he was remembering. “Can I ask you a question?”

He hesitated. “That depends.”

“
How old is he? He never told me his age…and I wondered…”

I hated the pity on his face. “He just turned twenty-four.”

“
He's only six years older than me,” I whispered.

“
I'm sorry, Christina.”

I closed my eyes.

“
We should probably leave soon. I suspect you may have been followed. Michael told me he found some bugs in the apartment this morning…”

“
All right.” I stood up. “Let me…um…get dressed first. I won't be long.”

Five minutes later, I followed Kent out. I left the envelope on Michael's bed, torn into four jagged pieces. I didn't want to give him even the smallest hope. If he suspected I harbored any vestigial traces of affection for him, he would risk even more than he already had. And there would be people who would try to use me against him. To kill me. To kill him. I knew how this story ended. It was just as Kent had said, some people truly aren't meant to be together.

As we left, I did not even allow myself to cry.

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