Eternal Nights (40 page)

“I wish I’d been there to see you chastised. I’m surprised you didn’t bring her to heel before a half hour was up, though.”

“Bring her to heel? Ha! I could have been a four-star general, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop that girl from giving me an earful. And Montgomery—the other missing captain—was sitting there smirking the whole time. I’d still be trapped while she told me how I’d failed in my duty as head of security if she hadn’t caught the kid chuckling. I snuck out of the infirmary while she was chewing him out.”

Stacey didn’t reply, and the silence lengthened. Alex liked sitting with her, just being. It had been too long since he’d had this, but he had more he wanted to tell her. “I think we got Hunter’s murderer—his team’s warrant officer, John Dye. Catfish would have trusted him and let him get close. We don’t have evidence yet, and Dye hasn’t confessed, but I’m sure we’ll find what we need to convict him, now that we know where to look.” He hesitated, unsure Stace would care, but he needed to say this too. “I didn’t brief Montgomery about the murder. The kid will find out soon enough and blame himself. He’s the one who asked Hunter to watch out for Captain Thomas.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked. There was curiosity in her voice, nothing harsher.

“Because you’re the only person I can share things with, the only person I trust with my guard down.” Alex sat up and shifted until he faced her. “Can we talk? Without anger and hurt? Just have an honest, open discussion about us?”

“Without emotion, you mean?”

“That’s not possible.” Alex ran his hand over the top of his hair. “We’ve got too much between us not to have emotion. I’m not great with words, at least not to express how I feel, and whenever I try, you hop off the train before I can hook up all my cars. What I’m asking is that you don’t jump to conclusions, don’t make accusations, don’t storm out of the room. Let me have the time I need to find what I want to say, or if I screw up and say it wrong, give me the chance to explain what I meant. Can you do that?”

“Are you implying this is all my fault?”

Alex gnashed his teeth. “That’s not what I’m saying, but this is the kind of comment that derails me. Why do you have to look for hidden meanings? Can’t we talk honestly without one of us struggling for an advantage over the other?”

“What’s the point in talking now?” she asked.

He took a breath and pushed the frustration aside. “The point is us. We have three years together. That’s a lot to throw away without trying till the end.”

“You didn’t mention the baby.”

“That’s part two of the discussion. You and I are part one.” And how the second half of the conversation went would depend in large measure on what happened in the first, but he wasn’t stupid enough to tell her that.

“Okay,” Stacey said slowly. “I guess we can try.”

Maybe he couldn’t change her mind, but he’d had a few epiphanies tonight, and he was imparting them. She gazed at him expectantly, but he found himself at a loss for words—again. Why was he always much smoother in his head than when it came down to crunch time? Whenever he tried to talk about feelings, he was about as articulate as a rock.

“Well?” she prompted. There was no impatience, more of a resignation, as if she’d expected nothing else.

Running through a variety of different potential starting points, Alex decided on the most salient. “I love you, Stacey.”

She stiffened. “No, you don’t.”

Irritation rose, and he struggled to control it. “Do you think I’m just saying it? I’ve never spoken those words, not even to my sister or nephew.”

“I think you’re claiming to love me because I’m pregnant, and you want to do the right thing. We both know about your unbending sense of honor.” Stacey got up and walked away, but at least she didn’t leave the room.

“You’re wrong,” Alex told her quietly. “I’ve never lied to you. Not even to make things easier on myself. Remember the night you kicked me out of our bedroom? We both know I could have claimed to be looking at info on the murder, and I would have been out of the doghouse. I didn’t do that; you know why?” He stood and crossed the floor until he stood behind her. “Because I love you. A man doesn’t lie to the people who are important to him.”

Stacey shook her head, but she didn’t turn to look at him or comment on what he’d said. Alex was okay with that. Her silence gave him time to find the words he needed.

“You say you’re the one who did all the work to hold us together, and you’re right about that, I know it. You’ve said I’m an emotional coward. You’re right about that too. I could tell you horror stories about my childhood, but in the end, they’re not important. I’m an adult, and I repeatedly made the decision to protect myself. It wasn’t until I saw that bastard grab you tonight that I realized what an idiot I’d been.”

He reached out, his hand not entirely steady, and lightly ran it down her hair before jerking his arm back. She glanced at him over her shoulder, her face impassive.

“You could have died, Stace.” Alex had to clear his throat. “You could have died believing that you didn’t mean a whole lot to me, but the truth is, you mean too damn much. I never wanted to love anyone as deeply as I love you. It scares the shit out of me, and that’s putting it mildly. I honest to God don’t know how Ravyn found the courage to throw herself into her relationship with Brody. She must be stronger than I am.”

“Ravyn,” Stacey said, shifting around, “had you to protect her. She had you to turn to when she needed someone in her corner. Who did you have, Alex?”

He started to shrug that off, to deny it meant anything, but that was the old Alex, and he’d sworn that man wasn’t going to get in his way. “Ravyn was there for me too.”

“No, she wasn’t. Not in the way I’m talking about, and not in the way you were there for her. She couldn’t be, not with a ten-year gap between your ages. For much of her life, she was simply too young to offer the support you needed, and by the time she was old enough, the pattern of your relationship was set.”

Alex stared at Stacey. She was defending him? “I had to be strong for her, especially after her mother and my father died. She was reeling.” He grimaced as he recalled a conversation he’d had with Stacey years ago. “So was I, but I was twenty-four, and a man. She was barely into her teens.”

Stacey turned to face him, her arms hugging her waist. “Over the last three years, you could have reached for me.”

There was only a hint of accusation in her voice, and Alex guessed she’d struggled hard for that evenness. With a faint smile, he said, “I was thirty-six when we met, and by then my defenses were firmly entrenched. It took seeing a gun at your head to shake me up.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that in a matter of seconds, you changed completely and irrevocably.”

“Sarcasm,” Alex pointed out mildly, and watched her blush. “And no, we both know it won’t be that easy. I’m going to have to work on it every day for years before it becomes ingrained. You’ll just have to call me on it when I backslide, and we both know I will. Not much of a bargain for you, but there’ll never be another man who loves you more than I do, even when I forget to tell you.” He shrugged, trying to disguise his discomfort.

“I wish I could believe you,” Stacey said, “but we’ve been through too much. I can’t spend the rest of my life fighting with you, trying to get you to change.”

His heart had settled somewhere around his boots. This wasn’t going well, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d blown opportunity after opportunity in their time together, held on to his pride at the expense of their relationship. It would serve him right if he had only his dignity to keep him warm, but he had to believe he still had a chance, had to believe she still loved him. Emotions didn’t turn on and off so easily.

“You have no reason to trust that things will be different,” he said, “but I swear they will. This time I
want
to change, and that distinction makes all the difference in success.”

She shook her head, but he saw the tears pooling in her eyes. Fear—all right, terror—surged through him. God, he couldn’t lose her, not now. Not when he finally understood.

“You want me to beg? I will.” Alex dropped to his knees. “I love you, Stace. Don’t leave me. Please.”

“Get up,” she told him.

He didn’t. Instead, he reached for her hand. Voice thick, Alex told her, “I’m not a prize, but I’m not without pluses. I’ve never lied to you or cheated on you, and I never will. I’ll always treat you with respect. I don’t forget birthdays or anniversaries, and you’ll never have to worry about hunting me down at some bar. I don’t gamble, and I don’t spend more money than I have.”

“I know this,” Stacey said, and she was crying in earnest.

Alex panicked. If she knew his good points, and those weren’t enough, what did he have left? Not a thing. He could see a wasteland laid out in front of him—spending his life alone, seeing his kid on holidays and occasional weekends, burying himself in work to fill his emptiness. No Stacey.

“Tell me what you need me to say, what you need me to do, and I swear to God, I’ll say and do it.” He wanted to tell her that without her, he’d die inside, but that wasn’t fair. “You want me to crawl across the plaza? Shout from the rooftops that I love you? Serenade you from the street? Tattoo your name on my ass? I’ll do all of those things if that’s what it takes to prove how much you mean to me. Give me a chance to show you that I want to change—that I can change. There’ll always be another transport back to Earth if I fail miserably.”

“Damn you, Alex. You’re such a bastard.”

“I know.” And he did know that, had prided himself on it.

Slowly, she sank down until she was knee to knee with him. “Why did you have to do this now—when I finally had the strength to walk away from you?”

He shook his head. There was no answer he could give her, and Alex settled for gently wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Just a chance,” he pleaded. “I love you, Stace.”

More tears fell, and he brushed those away too. When the sob escaped, Alex gathered her close, snuggling her against his chest. She didn’t pull away, and for the first time since he’d walked into the room, he felt a speck of optimism.

Stacey’s arms went around him, and she held on tightly while she cried. He’d caused this pain, had wounded her this deeply, and Alex apologized in whispers against her hair as he rubbed circles on her back. It took her a long time to calm down, and by then, he was sitting against the wall, with Stacey on his lap.

As the silence lengthened, he felt more hopeful. She wasn’t moving off him, wasn’t telling him to get lost. He kissed the crown of her head and waited.

“You’re a bad bet, Sullivan,” Stacey said a long time later.

“I know. You can do much better than me.” And she could.

Lifting her head, she looked down into his eyes. “You swear you’re not saying these things because of the baby?”

“Word of honor. I’ve never lied to you,” he repeated, “and I never will. You have my word on that too.”

She was measuring him, and his heart thundered in his chest. What if he didn’t look sincere? What if he got a tic in his eye and she thought it was because he was lying? What if—

“One last chance. If I don’t see you making an effort, that will be it.”

Moisture welled in his eyes, and he had to blink rapidly to keep from looking like a sissy. “Thanks,” he said, his voice nearly unintelligible. “You won’t regret it.”

“I better not,” she warned, but ruined the effect by leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you, Alex—don’t break my heart again.” And mimicking him perfectly, she added, “Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” This kiss was longer, and when she settled against his chest, Alex went for broke. “Marry me, Stace.”

She shook her head. “No, not yet. Not until I can trust that you’re for real.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. He had Stacey in his arms, and back in his life. Alex had what mattered.

*** *** ***

Wyatt sat on his front steps, his forearms resting on his knees, and watched faint fingers of light begin to touch the horizon. It was difficult for him to see much through the reddish glow of the city’s force field, and he realized he missed viewing the sunrise.

He should be in bed, but he couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts whirled through his head, distracting him every time he closed his eyes, and not even a warm shower had calmed him.

Bug hadn’t needed stitches in her hand, but it had been a near thing. McNamara had really chomped down. He hadn’t realized just how bad the bite was until he’d seen it in good light at the infirmary. Shit, he should have taken on the colonel, not Kendall, but she’d jumped right in.

It was easy to guess why. She knew he’d feel bad afterward if he fought a woman, but he could live with it—he wasn’t such a gentleman that he couldn’t clock a female if the need arose. Kendall hadn’t given him the option.

Kendall. She’d been furious, lashing out while they’d been in the temple, yet before they’d gone to the gate, she’d seemed to be over it. He wasn’t sure if the last personal exchange they’d had was a good sign or not. She’d changed the subject after he’d told her she could rely on him. On the other hand, she hadn’t told him she didn’t want his help.

They needed to talk. He’d wanted to do it tonight, but Bug had nearly been asleep on her feet as he’d walked her home, and she wasn’t up to the kind of discussion they had to have.

Shifting his gaze, he stared at the capstone of the pyramid. It seemed to be glowing faintly. He might never know a fraction of all the secrets the temple held. If it weren’t for Bug, he wouldn’t want to know, but if the fricking thing were trying to claim her, he had to learn as much as he could in order to fight it.

Wyatt heard a sound, and looked to his right. For a minute, he thought he was imagining things—conjuring images of Kendall out of thin air and wishful thinking—but when she sat beside him, her hip warm against his, he knew it was no dream.

“How’s the hand?” he asked quietly.

“Throbbing,” she told him just as softly, “but that isn’t what kept me awake.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”