“It is tough,” Nico said. “But I had no explanation for why I survived, and the others didn’t either, except they would say it wasn’t my time. For me, it was like, why not my time? Why would I survive, and they didn’t?” he murmured. “But your only choice is to deal with the circumstances, and then you move on.”
“So maybe I haven’t moved on,” she whispered.
“You haven’t,” he said. “But this is a really good time to let it all go. And maybe you won’t have quite so much anger in your world, and you can find peace inside for when you write your books.”
He settled back and closed his eyes, leaving her to her thoughts. It was his own accident in his mind that he kept dealing with over and over again. He knew his own words needed to be taken to heart himself, but it was hard sometimes. Survivor’s guilt was something he wouldn’t wish on anybody.
Chapter 8
Landing the next time at the Coronado base in California was the end to a long, arduous journey. And Charlotte was never more grateful to get home than she was then. She stretched her arms up and around, loving the heat, loving the noise, loving the smog and everything about it.
“I do love California,” she said, crying out in joy.
“Good,” he said. “The day’s about to start, at least for us. For this town, it’s already after lunch. Let’s see if we can get you home.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said. “It might be afternoon, but I’m more than done.”
“That last trip wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“It was all rough,” she said. “My butt’s killing me. I don’t think I want to sit for a week.”
“Well, you have to sit in the vehicle,” Keane said. As they walked out onto the base, he signed off for a vehicle and hopped into an army jeep, joined by Nico and Charlotte, and then drove them off base.
“You guys get to take equipment just whenever?”
“Only in special cases,” Nico said with a laugh. They headed onto the main highway back into San Diego, and she gave him her address, but Nico had already memorized it. A beep came from his phone, and Nico read the text and nodded. “We’re clear.” When they pulled up in front of her small brownstone townhome shortly thereafter, Nico looked at it in surprise and said, “This is a wealthy area of town.”
“My books do fine,” she said as she hopped out and looked around. She wanted to scream with joy. She was home; she was safe, and it would be a beautiful day. She ran up the steps only to have Nico intercept her. She frowned as he stepped between her and her front door. “What?”
“We’ll go in and check it first,” he said.
She planted her hands on her hips, feeling her temper spike. “I’ve come a long way to be home. Why on earth would you even begin to think that my house needed to be searched?”
“Because our team found bugs in it before.”
“Bugs?” she asked cautiously.
“Bugs,” he said, “as in listening devices.”
She stared at him in shock, the color falling from her face. “What are you talking about? How and why would anybody plant bugs?” She tried to breathe properly. “And maybe a better question is,” she asked when she could, “why on earth would they care what I say?”
“That’s what we have to find out.” He took the keys from her fingers, quickly unlocked the door, and then, with a nod to Keane, stepped inside. She went to follow, but Keane put his arm across the doorway, barring her from entering. She turned and glared at him.
He gave her a lazy smile. “Not until we say so.”
She wanted to stamp her foot on the floor, like a child, but that was as much about exhaustion and frustration from what had gone on for the last few days. “I get that you guys are trying to protect me, but I’m home. This is my home.”
“So you planted those audio devices yourself?” he asked curiously. “Just what do you listen to then, if that’s the case?”
She glared at him. “You have to be mistaken.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said.
Just then Nico came back and opened the door. “It’s clear.”
She rolled her eyes at him as she sailed past him. “Of course it’s clear. Remember that part about it being my home?”
“Remember that part about bugs?” Nico plunked down his bag on her kitchen table.
“I think you guys are the ones who messed up with the bugs,” she said. She didn’t have a very large place, but it was more than enough for her. She headed straight for the coffeepot.
“You won’t sleep tonight if you have more coffee.”
“Yes, I will,” she said. “Coffee right now is good.”
“Can you explain the bugs?”
“No, I can’t,” she said. “Of course I can’t. Nobody gives a crap about what I say or who I say it to or when.”
“Well, somebody does,” he said. He walked over to the kitchen counter and lifted the one device left behind for him to identify. He held it up for her. “This is one of three.”
He watched as the color drifted off her face again. “I don’t know what those things are,” she gasped. The reality of seeing it versus hearing about it was just too much. She sagged down to the kitchen chair and buried her face in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” Nico said, “but we really do need to get the bottom of this.”
“You keep saying that,” she said. “How’s it going though?” There was a snappiness to her tone that she didn’t mean. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then said, “I’m sorry. I have no reason to snap at you guys. You’ve been nothing but easy to get along with, and you’ve done everything to keep me safe. I’m being an ungrateful brat.”
“You’re tired. You’re fed up, and you’re frustrated,” Nico said.
