She was swarmed by questions and she took her time answering each one.
He was relieved as a guard brought her a robe and she pulled it on over her body.
She was fine. She would always be just fine. She was the epitome of resilience.
He turned to leave, but Zoey waved to him as she ended the questions and bid goodbye to the crowd. He turned away, not wanting to once again do her bidding, but his resolve weakened. At the very least, before he left, he could make sure that she really was okay.
She could get up there and say she wasn’t hurt all she wanted, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some kind of internal damage from taking a hit like that. She was all show.
And he had always been the one to make sure that she wasn’t faking things so much that she couldn’t find her way back to reality.
Which made him wonder if that was part of the reason she had chosen this conference to unveil her new gear. She had to have known he would be here, hoping to catch sight of her. She had probably even known he would come to her rescue.
Maybe she missed him just as much as he missed her.
Wait. No. He didn’t miss her or her stupid pink hair, or her wide-set dark-lined eyes, or her watermelon-colored lips that usually tasted of her mint sugar-free gum. And he definitely didn’t miss the way she had loved to fall asleep in the crook of his arm, making his arm go to sleep and then later throb with pain when she finally rolled to her side in their bed.
Yep. He didn’t miss her at all.
Damn it.
As the crowd started to dissipate, she made her way over to where he stood at the back of the tent.
She tugged her robe tighter around her body, like she was suddenly self-conscious in his presence.
“You’re welcome,” he said, fully aware from the slightly pursed look on her face that the last thing she wanted to say to him was thank you.
“I didn’t tell you to come here.” She brushed her pink hair out of her face. Up close, he couldn’t help but notice it was dyed the same shade of Barbie pink as her dress.
“Uh-huh,” he grumbled. “You and I both know Billings is my territory.”
“I thought you were out working for a new crew. I don’t keep tabs on you, Eli.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but as she moved her arm over the place she’d taken the hit, she winced with pain and lowered her arms.
“Why did you do such a stupid thing? What would have happened if your guy had missed? What if he’d shot you in the neck?” He reached over and put his finger against the place that the bullet had struck. “You could have died, Zoey.”
She moved away from his touch. “This was hardly the first time, or the last, that I stood at the edge of death, Eli. This is our life—dealing with pain. And you know it just as well as I do.”
And perhaps that was one of the main reasons he was glad they really were no longer together.
“It doesn’t mean it’s okay to make stupid choices.”
“Doing my job isn’t making a stupid choice.” She leaned against the back of a chair. “I believe in the H&K products and its people.” Her tone made it clear he didn’t make her short list.
“Why did you want me to stay, Zoey?” He wasn’t about to stand there and continue to be her whipping boy. “Is it just so you can tell me all the reasons we don’t work anymore?”
Some of her antagonism seemed to seep out as she dropped her shoulders and sighed. “I...” she began. “Actually, I was hoping you would give me the slug. You know. For marketing and such.” She stuck out her hand like a child asking for a quarter.
“Yeah, right.” He reached into his pocket where he had dropped the spent bullet. With it came his business card.
He stared at the card in his fingers, but before he could think about tucking it back into his pocket, Zoey reached out and took them both.
“I... Uh...” She paused, collecting herself. She pulled out her phone. “I guess I should thank you properly for what you did back there.”
She opened up her phone and punched in his number, then moved to her calendar like she was thinking about finding a time that would work for them to go out. On her schedule he could make out the words Therapy appointment set for tomorrow, and beneath was an address.
He looked up at her as she tapped through her schedule.
Was she really interested in going out with him? And was she really going to a therapist?
Did it have something to do with what had happened to them?
He was glad she was seeing someone, but Zoey had never been the kind to open up. Maybe she had changed since she had left him.
“Hey,” he said. “By the way, I’m sorry to hear about your sister. She was always wonderful to me. If I had it to do all over again, I would happily work by her side.”
Zoey stopped with her phone and looked up at him, staring at him like she was looking for some kind of meaning to what he’d just said. “Are you saying you want to come back to STEALTH?” Her voice was choked.
“No. It’s just... I meant...” Now, he was the one stammering. It wasn’t that he hadn’t missed his old job and the STEALTH family, but she didn’t want him there and they both knew it.
Why was any interaction between them so awkward?
“I meant that I just wish nothing had happened to Trish. We lost a good one with her.”
She nodded, but her gaze stayed locked on his face.
A blonde woman wove through the chairs over toward them, and Zoey finally looked away.
“I have to go, Eli.” She handed him back his card. “But maybe...someday, we could catch up.”
Catching up? Was she for real? They both knew after this moment it was unlikely they would ever see one another again.
And the thought, just like the woman who was walking away from him, threatened to rip out his heart.
The ride back to the Widow Maker Ranch seemed even longer than she had remembered. She had driven through entire countries faster than she had driven across the state of Montana. The conference had gone well, and she was getting texts and alerts about new orders that were coming through the doors, but her mind kept circling back to Eli. Maybe it was his fault that the drive had seemed to take so long.
He had a way of making everything in her life more complicated. It was a good thing that she was putting hundreds of miles between them.
But it had been stupid of her to take his phone number. She had excised him ever so precisely from her life already, and now she had allowed him to slip back in. What was wrong with her?
She’d always stuck to the Band-Aid breakup model—one quick rip and throw it away. She was too old to make such a stupid mistake and let him reappear. His coming back would only open up all those old wounds. Not that everything had been bad between them. Some days had been incredible, while others—especially at the end—had been pure hell.
One time, when they had been in the belly of Italy, they had taken a contract on a set of twins. The brothers they had been hired to kill had been members of a notorious terrorist organization, in so deep that they had helped establish the group’s core documents and constitution. Thanks to their work, the group had grown to over five thousand