“We have a plane to catch,” the Piper tossed in her direction as he left the room. “Say what you need to say, and let’s go.”
Ella closed her eyes and drew on the dwindling core of strength inside her. She could leave him again. She had to.
“Don’t do this, Ella.” Jude’s voice reached inside her, and whether he would ever know it or not, it bolstered that failing strength. “Whatever has happened, let me help you.”
Ella allowed her gaze to rove over his big body, up his wide chest and up farther over his face. She appreciated his tanned skin and the black hair that had a tendency to curl when he let it grow past the shorter style he preferred. She prized the bump in the bridge of his nose. She treasured his ebony eyes. She had always enjoyed his big hands and the tensile power of his corded, muscular body. She cherished his pride, his loyalty, and the way he had shown her he was hers. He wasn’t a beautiful man; he had been too much of a soldier not to bear the scars of his profession. But he was sexy as hell, and to her, he was everything.
She loved Jude Dagan. She always would.
Ella pushed down every bit of love and loss she felt, burying it under her duty.
“I had hoped you’d never see me again. That I’d never have to see you and remember what I’ve given up. But we rarely get what we want.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the end of the bed. “Sometimes though, you have a chance to apologize.”
He laughed, and it was harsh in the silence of the room. “Is that why you’re standing there? To apologize?”
Ella allowed a smile to curve her lips before shaking her head. “No. It’s not time yet to apologize for the things I’ve done. You, probably much like King, will think what you want. It’s not my job to change your mind or bury myself in recriminations.”
He sighed and rattled his bindings again. “Then what the hell is your job, Ella?”
“Why, it’s the same job we’ve had for nearly two years, Jude.” She saw him wince and knew instinctively it was because she’d used his first name. Yet another thing she loved about the man before her…his name. “Destroying Horace Dresden.”
“Then let me go, and let me help you,” he said, more demand than request.
She straightened then, giving him the full force of her gaze. “You need to return to Endgame. Following me will get you nowhere but dead. Go home, Jude, to your teammates.”
“It’s time, Ella.” The Piper’s voice rang out from the other room.
She would try one more time. “Don’t come after me.” She let her gaze slide once more over the man who owned her heart, body, and soul. Then she turned.
She’d made it to the doorway when he spoke.
“I’ll come after you. I’ll never stop coming after you. You owe me the truth. And I owe you for what you allowed to happen to Micah and Nina. You almost killed us all. Dresden would have loved that, wouldn’t he?”
She breathed in deeply through the pain of his words. She hadn’t set up what happened that night in the desert surrounding Beirut, but she’d definitely taken advantage of it. Micah Samson had been one of Jude’s best friends, and he’d fallen that night. Nina had been one of Ella’s, and she’d fallen back in DC, before they ever set foot on the C-130 headed to Beirut. Both of their losses haunted her. She had no choice but to push through it.
She took another step, and again his words stopped her.
“One more thing… When I find you, and I will find you, I will make you pay for this, Ella. I thought my life ended when I saw you die in Beirut. But if you make me hunt you down again, what I do when I find you will destroy us both. I’ll say it one more time: don’t do this. Make me understand, Ella. Let me help you.” His voice was sandpaper over gravel by the time he finished.
And she was shredded by it. She glanced over her shoulder at him. His face was ravaged by what he’d gone through over her. Such a strong man, his purpose embedded in the framework of his bones—and she’d nearly broken him. She was scalded by the rage in his eyes, but it was nothing less than she deserved.
He’d move on from her. And even though a tiny part of her, the most jealous part, prayed he never forgot what they had shared together, the bigger part prayed he did indeed move on. Because Ella was living on borrowed time. She had resigned herself to her fate when she’d agreed to work with the Piper. She would probably die ending Dresden. There was nothing for her with Jude, no matter how much both of them wished it could be so.
“I said I wouldn’t apologize, but as fickle as fate is, this might be my last chance,” she whispered. She lowered her head, unable to look at him and still have the strength to walk away. “I love you, Jude Dagan. I will always love you. I’m sorry.”
Then she walked away, hearing him curse her and struggle against his bonds.
Chapter 4
“Ah, Ella! You’re back,” Horace Dresden called out from his position at the head of the enormous dining table.
Ella walked in, portraying a casualness she did not feel. She walked a tightrope with the monster that was Horace Dresden. She could be neither too strong, nor too weak. Instead, she struggled to place herself right in the middle between those two approaches.
Anton Segorski sat to Dresden’s left, and to his right
