“We didn’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, we did, princess. There’s always a choice.”
“If you had a problem with our gig, you should’ve said that instead of boohooing about your beach holiday.”
“I did.” He threw the tennis ball into the couch and ran his hands through his hair. “Forget the damn beach.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about, Spiker?”
“I’m talking about me. I’m tired of Buck’s shit. I’m fucking tired.” He dropped in front of her again and they locked eyes. “I’m the weak link, and this job exists to prove it.”
A weak link? “You’ve lost your bloody mind.” Vanka wanted to shake the stupid out of Spiker but couldn’t do more than gawk at the insanity. She closed her gaping mouth and choked back half a dozen insults geared to snap him out of his funk. It wouldn’t work. She could see that. “Okay. You need a break. Take a break. Grab the first flight out. Disconnect and go dark. Don’t come home until you’re ready.” Then the terrifying possibility that he might not return set off a round of panic. “Or don’t leave. Not yet. Stay here. We’ve got nothing to do, and we’ll continue to do nothing.”
“Vanka—”
“I’ll change your bedroom and style it with whatever you want. A flat-screen would fit on the wall—”
“Vanka—”
She waved away her name. “We’ll tell Buck that we’re busting our asses to help him make his smarmy new friends, but we’ll kick it here. No museums—”
Spiker laid his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Hey.”
“Don’t hey me like I need to shut up and cheerfully watch you leave.” Her throat ached. Tension corkscrewed in her jaw. “I am your partner.”
“I know that,” he quietly said.
“Lean on me, and I’ll do whatever it bloody takes to make things right.” Her lungs tightened more with every millisecond he waited to respond. “I will bring the sabbatical to you.”
Spiker didn’t move. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever offered me.”
“Well,” Vanka said self-consciously, refusing to squirm under his grip and soul-searching study, “it’s true.”
His scrutiny suspended time. Her pulse drummed. She didn’t want to look away, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice. He’d left her wholly arrested. Spiker slowly released her shoulders, and a chill replaced his touch, breaking her trance. Vanka’s chin dropped, and she waited for the sudden fog to blow away as quickly as it had come.
“Truth is . . .” he said.
She looked up when he trailed off, and their eyes collided. His consternation mixed with introspection. The resulting expression sucked the oxygen out of the living room. Vanka was spellbound.
“I’m done,” he admitted.
“No,” she managed. “You’re not done.”
His silence sliced deep. The uncertainty bled in her chest. The unfairness of a decision that affected both of them rose like bile in her throat. They didn’t always work together. They weren’t attached at the hip. Vanka knew this, but she couldn’t fathom a world where they weren’t claimed by each other, where she couldn’t vent or rant or ask his advice.
Who else could she ask about the best ways to stay alive? What would she do if she couldn’t push his buttons? She needed his cool-and-casual to her uptight-and-always-right. Spiker was an idiot if he didn’t see that he required the same.
Stiffly, he nodded. “If this assignment is the future at GSI? Yeah, I am.”
“Well, that’s—” She couldn’t think. “That’s selfish!”
He waited as though he’d expected her to throw a fit. Anticipating what she might do made her want to scream. Of course she’d throw a fit. If he’d put half the effort into thinking about how she might feel, Spiker would’ve known she had a damn good reason to be angry. He was leaving her. “Where do you plan to go? What will you do?”
Spiker pursed his lips. “Honestly? I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve spent more time trying to figure out what’s been bothering me.”
“You never said a single word about leaving.”
He gestured in a way that asked, What’s this? “I just did.”
Her pulse drummed in her ears. She couldn’t think straight. This couldn’t be the end of the discussion. His tone sounded dangerously final. “Fine.” Vanka inhaled and squared her shoulders. “We’re talking now. What’s your plan?”
“I don’t have to do anything,” he calmly said, refusing to rise to her question, which had been launched like an instigating missile.
“Ridiculous.” They were both more than financially stable. They could walk away from this assignment and never work another day in their lives. But that wasn’t them. Their lives had meaning. Too few people understood what they did, and even fewer had the stomach to turn talk into action. “You’ll be bored.”
“I don’t care.”
Incredulous, she leaned into his space. “I don’t believe you.”
“Cross my heart, Vanka. It doesn’t matter.” He leaned forward too, but with a severe and searching stare that scared Vanka to pieces. “Buck’s changing. GSI’s changing. The writing has been on the wall, and what happened to Jason—”
“That was a year ago!”
He waited a beat as if to give Vanka time to remember how they’d followed orders on bad intel from an intoxicated boss driven by competitive paranoia. “I don’t want to worry about ulterior motives.”
“You need this job. You need—” She choked on the word me. “It’s who you are.”
Spiker shook his head. “I don’t need it. The only ones who do are bloodthirsty and revenge-hungry. That kind of lust has never driven us.”
“Speak for yourself.”
He laughed at her ridiculousness. “I know you, princess.”
“You didn’t know where I lived.” That didn’t matter. She knew he was correct. Neither of them was in the business because they had an axe to grind or hard-on for blood. “And you didn’t know I have a garden.”
“True.” His smile deepened. “You’re like a pain-in-the-ass puzzle that never stops giving.”
It was hard to hide her laughter. Instead, she groaned and shoved his unyielding shoulder. “Aren’t you the king of compliments?”
“I work with what I’ve got.” He lifted his forearm to block her next push. “That was weak,” he teased. “Try again.”
She did, and his amusement made her more cross. “I don’t like change.”
“You don’t like losing control,” he countered. “Quit.”
“Sorry?”
“Quit with me.” He gestured vaguely toward the reports piled on the glass table. “Or we’ll spend the day doing anything but this.”
Vanka cackled. “You’re out of your bloody mind.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”