Page 120 of High Treason
She shook her head, then broke into a cough that ripped at her stomach muscles. Finally she could speak. “Tell me about Youssof.”
“He’s not doing well. My guess is he’s given up the will to live. He’s permanently disfigured and condemned to spend the rest of his life in jail.”
“What happened with the prince?”
“Prince Omar talked to him, threatened his family. He confirmed what little we already have: internal Saudi with an Iranianassassin.” Kord told her about the threat to Youssof’s family if he revealed any names and about Parvin Shah’s no-name brother.
“Hard to say if he told the truth.” She coughed again, this time clutching her chest. “Has Prince Omar made the interview arrangements with the women?”
“In the morning at ten o’clock.”
“That’s 6p.m. for them,” she said. “But you know what? The evening means they could be tired, more prone to open up. What else?”
“Tell me about Liam Fielder.”
She stiffened, couldn’t help herself. “Why? We’ve had this conversation.”
“I think it’s interfering with your state of mind.”
If she had the strength, she’d black his eyes. “No, it’s not. What is it with you anyway? My personal life has nothing to do with this protection detail.”
“Monica, you’re lying to yourself if you remotely think his betrayal hasn’t affected your role in the CIA or your personal life.”
She would not face the reality about Liam with Kord. She needed an exit ramp. Now. Worse yet, she refused to admit the hurt and damage to her relationship with God. “It’s inconceivable.” Her words sounded disgustingly weak, like she felt.
“Isn’t confession good for the soul?” He scooted the chair closer.
“Being inches away from me doesn’t mean I’ll talk about Liam. Last I checked, you’re not a shrink.”
“I’m a friend.”
A friend who’d kissed her multiple times. Carried her up the stairs when she collapsed with this disgusting pneumonia. The challenge of opening up about Liam meant revealing the extent of her hurt. How could Kord ever understand the depth of her mistakes when he didn’t have a relationship with God?
“While you’re debating it, here’s my take,” he said. “MonicaAlden is a dynamic woman. She can go on being miserable, not trusting anyone. Or she can work through the past and shake it off.”
“Since when have I given the impression of being miserable?”
“I can see it in your eyes when you think no one is looking.”
Her heart thudded. “I’m fine.”
“And I’m a world intellect. I’m surprised God has allowed you to get away with all the denial stuff. Doesn’t He do the accountability thing?”
His words knocked at the wall around her heart. She choked back a lump in her raw throat. “Where is your firsthand info about God?”
“Closer than I’ve ever been. You and I have been through hell and landed on our feet several times. The last few days are part of it, and the danger’s not over. Give me a chance to help you with this.” The tenderness in his eyes should have spelled caution, but the hint of release nudged her forward. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met, but you’ve allowed someone to assume power in your life, someone who doesn’t deserve it. What hit you so hard that you can’t get past the punch?”
Her eyes watered. “I’ve never admitted all of the story to anyone.”
“You value your privacy. I get your reasoning.”
“Why, Kord? What’s in it for you?”
“To see you happy.”
Seemed like a lame excuse, but she really wanted to believe him. Dare she move forward when her insides curdled? Tell a man she barely knew the ugly truth? “Why do you care if I’m happy?”
“Because I don’t understand this crazy attraction to you. Because I’m looking for God and what a Christian worldview means. Because I have a hard time figuring out life too.” He took her hand, and she clung to his.
