Page 45 of Isla by Any Other Name

Lara held Isla for several long minutes. Finally, her breathing calmed. How could she keep this from Lara? Now that she was being ripped away from Mitch anyway, she might as well come clean. “I’ve already found the love of my life, Lara,” she sobbed.

“Who?” Lara asked, surprised. “Max? Colt?”

“Mitch,” sniffed Isla.

“God,” said Lara, palming her face. “I’m literally trained to see things that are amiss. How did I not see it? Mitch…I would have never guessed. He’s so by the book.”

“Lara, I love him, and he loves me. Once I’m in the Witness Protection Program, I’ll never see him again. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m supposed to just accept what is and make a new life for myself. I’ll do the right thing and testify against that bastard, but my life will never be the same. Once I lose him, I’ll have officially lost everything.”

Lara stood and put a hand on Isla’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. There’s nothing I can say to make this better and I’m not going to even try. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you will survive this.”

Isla pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself. “I just want to be alone right now,” she said.

“Molly, things have a way of righting themselves. When you’re ready, come down. We’re waiting for you.”

Isla had a choice—she could hole up in her room, away from everyone, so no one could see her hurting. She’d done it for years. Every time she was asked to go out with her nursing friends, she’d turn them down. She’d go home and study or watch TV alone, because it was safer than letting people in. It was how she dealt with things after her mom died in that car crash. She’d learned early on in foster care that no one wanted to deal with a kid who had big feelings.

This, too, felt like a death.

Isla knew her other option—she could go downstairs and face her friends, the people who had kept her safe. She could trust that they would be there for her, even if she wasn’t cooking for them or acting chipper.

In that moment, Isla chose to be brave.

She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. The team was in the living room, and Mitch was addressing them. His voice sounded tight and firm. “We leave at ten tomorrow morning. It’ll take us approximately two hours to get to Richmond. A private jet will fly us to Albuquerque where we’ll hand Molly over, then we’ll return to Philadelphia for a new assignment. If all goes according to plan, we’ll be on home turf by seven tomorrow night. Until then, get your gear together and pack your bags. Any questions?”

“No questions, Mitch. We’ll be ready.” Lara said with a sad smile. She turned toward Isla, who was standing at the edge of the room.

Suddenly, Isla felt all eyes on her. She started to tear up again. “I’d like to thank all of you for taking such good care of me. I’ll always remember the kindness you showed me. I know the sacrifices you have all made to keep me safe and I’ll never be able to repay you. You have all protected me with your lives countless times. I’ll never forget any of you.”

She looked up finally and saw that Max and Colt were red-eyed too. She should have known she could trust these people not only with her life, but with her heart.

She cracked a smile, a real one. “Now where are those brownie sundaes we had planned for dessert? I, for one, need chocolate.”

They sat around till the clock struck midnight before heading up to bed. She didn’t think any one of them were ready for tomorrow to come. Half the team went to relieve those already on shift and the rest headed for a few hours of sleep.

Mitch and Isla walked upstairs together, not talking. When he got to his door, he looked over his shoulder. He met her gaze but didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Mitch,” she said, finally.

“Goodnight, Molly,” he said. “Sleep well.” He walked through his door and closed it behind him.

Isla went into her room, then stood with her hand to her heart. It ached. She whispered, “Goodnight, my love.”

Then she closed her door.

Isla pulled out a duffel bag from the closet and filled it with the clothes that weren’t her own. She placed it next to her door and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She was standing under the spray letting the tears flow when she heard her bedroom door open and click shut.

“Lara, is that you?” she called.

But it wasn’t Lara who stood in her doorway. It was Mitch. They stood and stared at each other through the shower door.

Isla opened it and walked out. Standing in front of him, she pulled the tee he was wearing over his head, while he pulled his sweatpants down his legs. She took his hand and led him into the shower. Without saying a word to each other, they explored each other’s bodies, memorizing every inch, kissing each other with urgency. They made slow, beautiful love to each other knowing this would be the last time they held each other. After the water cooled, they dried each other, and Mitch carried her to the bed and laid her gently in its center.

“Isla…”

“Shh, no words, no promises,” Isla said, knowing full well that he couldn’t make any promises. “Let’s just have tonight.”

They woke to a gray, cold December morning. Isla lay in Mitch’s arms, her ear to his heart. She memorized its rhythm, beat for beat. He swirled her hair around his fingers. Neither one of them had said a word all night. They didn’t need to. They knew how each other felt, like they knew that the inevitable was going to happen whether they wanted it to or not.