Chapter Six

Standing awkwardly, Lizzy tried to ignore the larger-than-life operator and concentrated on drying her hair. That steamy water had felt like heaven—she’d never felt so grateful for a warm shower. She considered herself the luckiest person in Pakistan that night. Which made her think of Brianna and Suzie. They were the unluckiest. She should’ve stayed with them, but Max was right. She’d have just gotten in the way. Worry for their safety sat heavy on her heart.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Lizzy shook her head. “I’ll probably be asleep in five.” She pulled damp locks over her shoulder and dried them with a towel.

“I’ll bring you some food. It’s all local—”

“I like local. Thanks.”

John turned to leave.

“I knew you were watching me,” she said.

He paused, and she climbed on the bed and continued.

“You were at a market in Kenya once. I swore I caught a glimpse of you. There were a couple more times after that. On a layover to Tanzania. I liked knowing that you still looked out for me. I played silly games, thinking that you’d be around for good.” 

“We both played games. Mine were of the deadlier variety and I nearly got you killed. You were right, I dragged you into a shitstorm in Johannesburg. You almost died.”

Playing with her sleeve, Lizzy looked up. “That’s why I called you, because I knew you’d save me from this Pakistani shitstorm. Save a foolish girl who doesn’t deserve saving.” 

“You’ve never been foolish. Brave, lost, but never foolish.” John sat on the edge of the bed. Brawny arms rippled as he resituated himself.

“You’ve grown. I mean in size. You were defined before, but you’re now seriously all muscle.”

“The team has been working long hours—training long hours too.”

He tucked a curl behind her ear, his warm hand felt good against her still chilled skin. “I miss you, Lizbug. This suspended state isn’t good for us.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I was so mean—back in that miserable room. You came for me, you actually came.”

He sat so close. She ached to trace the small scar on the edge of his eye. She missed that familiar face and his direct regard. His coppery eyes stared back with glowing intensity. “Why are you still so angry with me?” he asked.

She lay back and stared at the ceiling. “Because you threw us away. You chose your dangerous job over my safety. We were just getting started, with what I thought was an incredibly real relationship. Instead it was all based on deceit, and everyone was in on the macabre joke but me.” Anger swelled as she thought back on the heartbreak.

“Lizzy—”

“Don’t! Before you snuck into my life, I was engaged to a man who lived a lie, and when it caught up to him, he turned on me. You were the first man I trusted after that, and you played with my healing heart. I don’t even know how much of that was you. Was it all an elaborate act?”

John rubbed his neck. “I intended it to be that way, but the instant you landed on me, like a missile falling from that giant oak, that moment you fell into my life—I knew I was screwed.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath.

He rose. “I’m hurting you again. You and I both need sleep. Let’s table this for the morning.”

Lizzy rose to her elbow. “How about a reset?”

“A what?”

“A reset. We start fresh. I let go of the anger and we get to know each other again—as friends.” She ignored his frown, stood and stretched out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lizette Steyn. I’m from Johannesburg—well, actually I was born in California. I’m in Pakistan on business. Bad business. You seem nice. You’re super tall, what should I call you? Tank? I have a feeling you’ll probably end up calling me something odd like Lizbug—that’s okay—I don’t mind the nickname. I hope we can be friends. I need a friend, around about now.”

He chuckled. She waited with her arm dangling between them.

A broad hand engulfed hers with a firm shake. “My name is James Cane.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Sheez kebab! Is that your real name?”

“Yes, ma’am. The one my mama gave me.”

She dragged him by the hand and crawled onto the far side of the bed. He followed, situating himself alongside her.

“James. It suits you. I could call you Jay Jay.”

“Jay Jay?”

“Yes. Short for James Johnny.” Lizzy unscrewed a water bottle.

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

“Why do they call you Johnny?”

“It’s how I’m known in the field. The majority of the time, that’s my name. It’s an integral part of who I am.”

“But why Johnny?”

“It’s pretty obvious…”

“Big John? From Robin Hood?”

“Yip. My previous team leader slapped me with it.” He yawned and took a sip from her water.

“I think it suits you, but why not a crazy call sign like Crash or Wookie or Big Dick.”

John spewed water.

“What? I’ve felt you up before. Granted we didn’t get far enough for me to actually see it, but it felt really, really generous. Don’t you remember our groping sessions? I’m thinking you’re hung like a dinosaur.”

“Holy moly, Lizbug!” He swept water off his lap, trying to cover the obvious woody tenting up his pants.

“What?” She grinned innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “I remember running my hands over your hot little body, and I’ve thought about that many times since.”

She shifted uncomfortably at his words.

Clearing his throat, he then explained, “Covert teams need to blend in, adopt names that sound real enough. If I’m interacting with a suspect—a target—I use an effective alias that provides a solid cover. Crash Cane won’t exactly cut it.”

“Where does Max get his name from?”

John resettled. “He does everything to the max. His brain is a machine, and he’s incredible with languages. His real name is Erik.”

“And the cocky ladies’ man on your team? The one who seemed all handsy with Abby in Johannesburg?”

“Slater. From the eighties TV show—”

“Oh my gosh! Saved by the Bell, I can see that.”

John raised his brows.

“Hey, I don’t just listen to eighties music. My dad made me watch all the old shows as a kid. He has a whole library of eighties paraphernalia. That’s how I got hooked.”

John yawned again. “Honey, we need to rest.”

“Aren’t there four of you on the team? I’ve only caught a glimpse of that other serious dude. The one with the goatee.”

“That’s Dave, known as Donnie in the field. We’re all proficient in martial arts but Donnie takes it to another level. Because of his combat skills, he’s named after Donnie Yen Chi-tan—an actor and multiple-time world wushu tournament champion. Dave is our analyst.”

“Will you leave again?” Lizzy asked sleepily as she settled onto her side, hugging a soft pillow.

“My team is heading to Rwanda for a couple of days, but I’ve been reassigned. I’ll head back to our base in Kenya to set up some meetings for next month. I’m hitching a ride on the flight to Nairobi in the morning—with you.”

“I’d like that. We’re friends—on reset, remember? You won’t leave me?”

“No. I’m just down the hall. We’ll talk later. Sleep for a few.” He switched the light off and left the door ajar.

Alone in the dark, she thought about the other two flight attendants awaiting their fate behind bars. Then her mind turned to John and how tempted she’d been to run into his arms. Except that embrace was dangerous. He would never hurt her physically, but her heart? That was a different story.