Blake’s jaw tightened as he watched the recorded interview between the FBI agent and Saleh Ahmad’s wife, Akela. She had an interpreter, but even speaking in Arabic, there was no escaping the despair in her voice. The hopelessness as she spoke about her life with her husband.
It was a hopelessness that couldn’t be faked.
Now he understood why Steve believed her. Her stories had Blake’s fists clenching and the air hissing out of his chest.
She’d been bought like a piece of property at a young age and shown nothing but abuse ever since. She spoke about the lack of freedom. The guards with weapons who stood watch over her day and night, ensuring she didn’t escape.
And there was other stuff. Darker stuff that had him wanting to punch his fist through a wall.
Blake’s memory went back to the guy who’d been in the dugout with her. If he could go back and kill the guy a second time, he sure as hell would, except he’d make the death more painful and drawn out. Bullets were too kind for a man who helped keep an abused woman hostage with her child.
At the sound of the door to Blue Halo reception opening, he paused the video. The footsteps were short and light, but they were quick. A woman.
He closed his laptop a second before Willow stepped into his office. Immediately, her scent permeated the air. It was a mix of lilies and citrus. All sweetness.
When his gaze clashed with hers, his muscles tensed. She wasn’t happy. Not even a little bit.
She held her hand up, keys dangling from her fingers. “No.”
He kept his tone even, his features neutral. He definitely should have called her before he had Bert deliver the car, but, God, he could be a coward sometimes. Only when it came to her though. “You need a new car.”
“Is Gigi unfixable?”
He frowned. “Gigi?”
“My car, Blake.”
His lips twitched. “Mila came up with that, didn’t she?”
“Blake.”
Sighing, he rose from his seat. “Bert said that fixing…Gigi,” yep, sounded just as strange attaching the name to the car out loud as it had in his head, “would cost more to fix than the thing was worth. I made a call.”
Immediately, her eyes narrowed.
Shit. Wrong thing to say, Blake.
“You made a call? You didn’t care to get in contact with me, the car owner? See what I thought about this call?”
Yeah, he’d definitely screwed up. Slowly, Blake walked around the desk, closing the door to his office. His team would still be able to hear, but at least a closed door gave him the illusion of privacy. “You need a safe car. For Mila.”
And for you.
The words were right there on the tip of his tongue, but they never reached air.
“I don’t know how much you paid, but I do know it’s too much for me. I’ll buy a cheaper car from him.” She held the keys out once again.
He took a small step closer. “Take the car, Willow.” Again, probably not the best approach, but the woman was too goddamn stubborn. Well, he could be stubborn, too.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
Another step forward. “Remind me.”
She swallowed, still holding out the keys like they offended her. “Because we’re not together, and if my car needs fixing or replacing, then that’s my responsibility and I’ll take care of it. I should have insisted that I would deal with Bert.” Her voice lowered. “I appreciate you trying to help, but I don’t need you looking after me when I can look after myself.”
“Willow, you’re still my wife, and I will always look after you.” Day or night. Together or separated. There was no getting around that one.
A flicker of emotion. It shot across her face before she was able to conceal it.
She still loved him. He didn’t need her words to know that. He felt it as strong today as when they’d said, “I do”.
This time it was Willow who stepped forward, pressing the keys against his chest, heat from her hand pummeling through the material of his shirt. “Please, take the keys.”
“No. This is all Bert had, and you need a car.”
A flurry of emotions crossed her features this time. Frustration. Anger. Indecision. The anger won out. But then, anger had always been her comfort zone when everything got too heavy. Only, it had taken him a long while—too long—to realize the anger was a shield for something else. A mask to stop him from seeing what was really going on.
His hand wrapped around hers, but instead of taking the keys, he closed her fist around the metal. Then both his hands covered hers. Spirals of awareness traveled up his arms and through his limbs.
“I don’t want to fight you on this.”
Her gaze flickered between his eyes. “Then take the keys.”
He should have seen that one coming. “No.”
Her green eyes had always reminded him of a forest. Right now, that forest was dark and stormy. “Fine. I’ll pay you back in installments.”
She pulled her hand out of his, stepping away from him. She tried to open the door, but before she could, he pressed his hand against the wood, above her head, keeping it closed.
“Willow, please.” He wasn’t just talking about the car now, and she knew it. His voice lowered. “It can be different this time. You’re better now, but even if you weren’t, I’m also better. Different. Let me take care of you.” If he could go back and do things differently, see the signs that he’d missed, he would. He’d do it in an instant.
A moment of silence ticked by. He stepped closer. God, being around her, breathing her in, was like coming home.
“I can’t, Blake.” Her head dipped just a bit, voice clogged with emotion. “I’m not yours anymore.”
He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity in that statement. “Honey, you’ve always been mine—and I’ve always been yours.”
There was a short stuttering of her breath. A pounding of her heart. He lowered his head, hovering his lips near her neck. He felt the shiver that racked her spine. She knew his words were true. She just wasn’t ready to admit it.
“I need to go.” Her voice was anything but steady.
He pressed a soft kiss to her neck. His lips tingled, fire dancing between them. Then he stepped back.
Willow took off like she was being chased.
He moved back to his chair, dropping into it before leaning his head back and shuttering his eyes.
The next footsteps that neared his door were heavier. He opened his eyes to see Aidan.
The man raised a brow. “Want to talk about it?”
Did he? Who the hell knew? “It’s hard. So damn hard. Having her here, within arm’s reach, but not having her…”
Torture. That was the only way to describe it.
Aidan dropped into the seat on the other side of the desk. “You’ve never really talked about what your relationship was like before you left.”
Because the very thought had his heart wrenching in his chest. Even in the compound, he’d talked about being worried for Willow and Mila, how much he loved them, but he hadn’t talked about what their relationship was really like in those final two years.
“Willow and I have loved each other for a long time.” The second his fifteen-year-old self had seen the green-eyed thirteen-year-old across the street, he’d known. “Things were great. But they changed once Mila was born.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. It was hard to comprehend that some of the best years of his life, the years of meeting and loving his child, were also some of the hardest. Willow’s hardest.
“Changed how?”
He ran a hand through his hair. He almost hated himself for not being the person she’d needed him to be. “I’d just become a SEAL before she was born. The missions were long, and I was away a lot.” He shook his head. “I could see Willow struggling. I could see her becoming a shell of the woman she once was. But I didn’t do enough about it.”
He didn’t do anything, dammit. He just kept telling himself it was normal for things to change temporarily. That their relationship would go back to the way it was eventually. They just needed time.
He was wrong. So wrong.
“Postpartum depression?”
Blake frowned. “How did you know?” Hell, he’d barely known about postpartum depression. And he certainly hadn’t known Willow was suffering from it. Not until he’d gotten back and Willow had explained the sickness. How she’d sought therapy the second he’d gone missing, since she was all Mila had at that point, and the therapist had diagnosed her.
Aidan lifted a shoulder. “It’s a hell of a lot more common than people think.”
“I didn’t know.”
His brows tugged together. “She’s okay now?”
“She got help from a therapist. Took medication.” Thank God. “Doesn’t change the fact I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most.”
“You can’t change the past. But you can be there for her now.” His friend leaned forward. “I know what it feels like to lose a woman you love. The difference is, yours is here, within arm’s reach. Be there for her.”
For a moment, Blake paused, pulled out of his own misery and tugged into Aidan’s. The man had been dating someone before he was taken by Project Arma. When he got out, he learned that she was married. That her wedding had occurred less than a year after they’d been taken.
If that had been Willow…
His chest constricted at the thought. It would have torn him in two.
“Have you gone to see Cassie?” He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he hoped he was wrong.
“No. I can’t. Knowing she’s married is already gut-wrenching. Seeing it…I’m not strong enough.”
Blake wouldn’t be either. That was the thing about him and his team. They were soldiers; so dangerous, they could kill with a single hit. But they loved hard. All of them.
“What does she need from you?” Aidan asked.
The man didn’t want to talk about himself anymore. But then, he rarely did.
“I’m not sure. She’s putting up a wall. She says it’s to protect Mila. She doesn’t want our daughter to see us together if we aren’t going to last, or see our relationship turn into something ugly. But I think it’s more than that.” He tapped his fingers on the desk, letting everything Willow had ever said wash over him. “I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. I put my work before her. As a SEAL, that’s common. And she’d never cared about my military commitment before, but after Mila was born, she needed more from me. I think she’s scared to trust me again. To trust us.”
Aidan lifted a shoulder. “You’re different now. After Project Arma, we all are. She just needs some time to see that.”
He nodded. He knew that. Had told her the same, in fact. He just had to hope he could survive the time apart until she decided to return to him.
