Page 100 of Ash Storm

Reka

"Idon’t want to stay behind in the van,” Reka said. It was the equivalent of dragging her feet, but she had to at least make her disagreement known.

She sat primly in the back of the parked car, staring at the ass of the van in question. In the driver’s seat, Dark turned to look at her.

She looked down at her watch—it was close to midnight. Her eyes felt so gritty, it was hard to make out the numbers.

“I’m sorry,” Dark said. And the large, imposing man did look sorry. He looked like he understood what she was going through. He also looked like nothing she said was going to make him change his mind.

“I can help you,” she insisted. “I can distract Afsan. If this has something to do with my uncle, I can sign a waiver—“

Dark sighed. “This has nothing to do with your uncle. Let me be very honest with you, Reka. Do you want Ash to be safe?”

Reka swallowed through the urge to vomit. “I want him to be safe.”

“Ash will be safer if you stay behind. Let him do his job. We will find Chloe and bring her back to you.” He paused for an instant, his expression becoming steely. “You and Rogue will stay in the van. You’ll help monitor what’s happening, and you’ll be there when we find Chloe. If that’s not acceptable, I’ll get Griffin to drive you back to the plane, Reka.”

And leave you one man short.

“I’ll wait in the van,” she said quickly.

“Okay. Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I have to make a phone call,” he said, leaving her alone in the car.

Ash opened the back door and sat down beside her.

Right.

A call.

Reka almost laughed. “That wasn’t very subtle,” she said.

Ash lifted his broken eyebrow. Reka wondered, as she’d done before, how the scar had come to be. He probably wouldn't tell her if she asked.

His gruff expression softened as he looked at Dark’s departing shadow. “He’s okay.” He coughed. “I think he wanted to give me a chance to say something that … something I’ve been needing to say.”

“Don’t,” she said. “Please don’t say something that makes me think you’re not coming back.”

“I want to come back, Re. I swear to you I’ll do everything in my power to come back to you.”

“But you can’t guarantee it.”

“I also can’t guarantee I won’t have a stroke in the next hour. Neither can you, Reka. Nothing is guaranteed.”

“You know what I mean,” she said, irritated. “Comparing what you’re going to do tonight to a stroke is like comparing—“

“I’m not comparing them. God, I love how passionate you are about everything.” He paused for a moment, his brown eyes solemn. “I love you, Reka.”

Her mouth literally fell open.

She hadn’t seen that coming.

“You … love me?” she whispered. “You mean you love something about me.”

“No,” he said, his expression determined. “I’m sorry, but that’s not what I mean. I mean exactly what I said.”

“You love me.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything else. And Reka was tempted to make a quip about his questionable timing, but the words wouldn’t come.