Chapter 8 - The Sister Who DisappearedRourke vanished for twelve days.
Agents shouted.
Someone grabbed my arm.
“Ma’am, stop!”
I pulled free.
“Adrian is inside.”
“So are twenty federal officers.”
“Then twenty-one won’t hurt.”
“That is not how math works!”
I kept moving until Ramirez appeared.
She caught both my shoulders.
“Emma.”
“He’s inside.”
“I know.”
“Then let me go.”
“No.”
“Ramirez—”
A section of roof collapsed.
The sound silenced both of us.
My stomach dropped.
Then men emerged from the smoke.
Two agents.
Tyler between them.
Alive.
Blood covered one side of his face.
I stared.
He saw me.
“Emma.”
I couldn’t answer.
“Where’s Adrian?” I demanded.
Tyler looked toward the building.
“He went after Rourke.”
Of course he did.
I pushed past Ramirez.
She caught me again.
“No.”
“Let go.”
“You will accomplish nothing by running into a burning building.”
“He could be hurt.”
“Yes.”
“That’s supposed to make me stay here?”
“That’s supposed to make you useful.”
The word stopped me.
Useful.
Not obedient.
Useful.
“What do you need?”
Ramirez pointed toward an armored van.
“Get inside. Monitor communications. If Adrian’s signal returns, tell us.”
I ran.
For the next four minutes, static filled the headset.
Four minutes can become a lifetime when you’re waiting for proof that someone is alive.
Then:
“Ramirez.”
Adrian.
I nearly cried.
“I hear him!”
I keyed the microphone.
“Adrian?”
Silence.
Then:
“Emma?”
His voice sounded shocked.
“Where are you?”
“In the command van.”
A pause.
“Good.”
“Where are you?”
“East loading bay.”
I relayed the position.
Agents moved.
Then Adrian added, “Rourke escaped.”
“Forget Rourke.”
Silence.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
A lie.
I could hear it.
“Adrian.”
“Minor.”
“Define minor.”
“Later.”
Three minutes later, he emerged.
Blood ran down his left temple.
His jacket was gone.
His white shirt had turned gray with smoke.
I ran toward him.
Then stopped two feet away.
Old instincts.
Don’t touch without knowing.
Adrian looked at me.
Something in his face broke.
He opened his arms.
I went into them.
It was not romantic.
Not at first.
It was relief.
Raw, shaking relief.
I pressed my face against his chest.
His heart hammered beneath my cheek.
“You’re alive.”
“So are you.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are several walls.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I inhaled smoke.”
I laughed.
Then cried.
Then became embarrassed.
Adrian did not mention it.
His hand rested carefully against the back of my shoulder.
Not trapping.
Just there.
Tyler watched from beside the ambulance.
Our eyes met.
He looked destroyed.
For once, I felt no fear.
Only distance.
Later, doctors confirmed Adrian had a concussion and six stitches above his eyebrow.
Tyler had a broken rib.
Two of Rourke’s men were arrested.
Three escaped.
Rourke disappeared.
Again.
The FBI recovered several computers from the warehouse, but most were encrypted.
The flash drive remained safe.
Adrian had carried a duplicate into the exchange.
The original had already been secured by Ramirez.
“You planned that?” I asked.
We were in a private hospital room at 4:00 a.m.
Adrian sat on the bed while a nurse finished checking his blood pressure.
“Yes.”
“You gave Rourke a fake?”
“A copy with corrupted files.”
“That is…”
“Smart?”
“Annoying.”
“Those are compatible.”
The nurse left.
I sat in the chair.
For several minutes, we said nothing.
Then I asked, “Do you believe what Rourke said about your father?”
Adrian stared at the bandage around his wrist.
“Yes.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my father.”
“People lie.”
“He does.”
“That doesn’t make every lie true.”
Adrian looked at me.
“You think I should investigate.”
“I think you should know before you punish yourself for another decade.”
His jaw tightened.
“I already know enough.”
“No. You think you do.”
His eyes hardened.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to fix me.”
“I’m not.”
“It sounds like it.”
I stood.
“I spent two years trying to fix Tyler.”
Adrian went still.
“I am never doing that again.”
Silence.
“I’m telling you something I wish someone had told me.”
“What?”
“Facts matter.”
I moved toward the door.
“Trauma makes guesses feel like certainty. Don’t build your life around something Rourke said while pointing guns at you.”
I left him with that.
Tyler asked to see me the next morning.
I said no.
Then yes.
Not because he deserved it.
Because I wanted the chance to speak while he was the one who couldn’t follow me home.
Two federal officers stood outside his room.
I remained by the door.
Tyler looked smaller than I remembered.
Bruises covered his face.
His left wrist was handcuffed to the bed rail.
“Emma.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
He swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
I almost laughed.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“That’s convenient.”
“I mean it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then be specific.”
He stared at me.
“For hurting you.”
“How?”
His eyes dropped.
“I grabbed you.”
“More than once.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You isolated me from Rachel.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
“You controlled my money.”
“Yes.”
“You tracked my phone.”
“Yes.”
“You convinced me I was unstable.”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“That’s an apology.”
Tears filled his eyes.
I felt nothing.
That surprised me.
“I loved you,” he said.
“No.”
His face crumpled.
“You may have felt something.”
“Emma—”
“But love without respect is just hunger.”
He turned away.
I continued.
“You wanted access to me. My time. My attention. My body. My loyalty. My fear.”
“I never wanted you afraid of me.”
“Then you should have stopped when you saw I was.”
He cried.
I had imagined this moment.
For months.
In those fantasies, I cried too.
Or screamed.
Or forgave him.
Instead, I felt tired.
“Why did you hide the drive in my suitcase?”
“I needed to move it.”
“Why mine?”
“Because nobody searched your things.”
That hurt differently.
“You used me.”
“Yes.”
“What was your plan?”
“Get to San Francisco. Pick up the suitcase. Leave.”
“And me?”
“I thought you’d come with me.”
“You knew I was leaving you.”
“I knew you were angry.”
“No. You knew.”
Tyler stared at the sheets.
“Rourke threatened me.”
“That doesn’t excuse what you did to me.”
“I know.”
“Why did you follow me onto the flight?”
He hesitated.
“Tyler.”
“I was going to make you come back.”
“How?”
Silence.
My stomach turned.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
He closed his eyes.
“I had medication.”
Everything inside me went cold.
“What medication?”
“A sedative.”
I stopped breathing.
“You were going to drug me?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
I backed toward the door.
“Emma, wait.”
“No.”
“I wouldn’t have hurt you.”
“You already did.”
I opened the door.
“Emma.”
I turned one last time.
He was crying.
Good.
Let him cry.
“I hope you cooperate with the FBI,” I said. “I hope you tell them everything about Rourke.”
“I will.”
“Not for me.”
“I know.”
“And Tyler?”
He looked at me.
“I’m never coming back.”
His face collapsed.
I left.
Outside, Adrian stood at the end of the hallway.
He had heard nothing.
I could tell by his expression.
But he knew.
He came toward me slowly.
“Do you want me close?”
The question nearly broke me.
“Yes.”
He stopped beside me.
Not touching.
Close.
I leaned into him.
May you like
This time, I knew exactly what I was doing.
And for the first time since the marriage began, I wondered what would happen when protection was no longer the reason we stayed together.
