Taz, page 8
I looked up at her quickly, and I knew my face had turned to stone by the expression reflected on her face. “You don’t know shit about what happened. Nothing will ever be the same between us.”
Darcy was momentarily stunned to silence, but not for long. “Okkaay, so I guess if I don’t now shit about it then it must be because you haven’t confided in me. Would you care to rectify that?”
I turned away, looking down at my hands that were clasped in my lap. “I’ll be right back,” I replied. “A video is worth a thousand words.”
I returned with my handbag, and dug my cell phone out. I pulled up the file with the videos, and handed it to her. “There’s three videos in here. They came to my phone at various times when Trace was missing. They were also routed to the Bureau Chief in Quantico. Watch them in order, and then you tell me how I’m supposed to pick up the pieces of my life and go on, will you? I’ll be in the other room. I can’t bear to hear or see them again.”
I left the kitchen and went through the main hallway, going into the parlor off the entrance hall and I settled down on the plush, wine-colored settee pulling one of the matching pillows onto my lap.
I could hear the soft ticking of the mantle clock and, for whatever reason, I found it soothing at the moment. It chased the clutter from my exhaustive mind.
Several minutes later Darcy came through the doorway. She sat down beside me, and pulled me against her. “Oh Linds,” she said, her voice a whisper, “Why didn’t you let me know before now? Why have you kept this to yourself?”
I shrugged because the truth was, I didn’t have an answer to that question other than the fact I had felt ashamed of how it had made me feel; and sickened that Taz had fucked someone else. I was confused and devastated by the realization that maybe this is simply what agents were expected to do in order to maintain their cover. Isn’t that something I should have known in advance? Shouldn’t Trace have explained all of that to me before we spoke those vows that no longer meant shit?
I voiced it all to Darcy, the tears flowing and my voice cracking with mixed emotions. She continued to listen and to soothe me until I got it all out.
She got up and grabbed a box of tissues from the end table, offering it to me. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose. I felt a sense of relief that I had finally gotten this out to her. I knew Darcy would be in my court; hell, she could probably recommend a good divorce lawyer.
“Have you discussed this with Taz?” she asked.
“Are you serious?”
“Uh…yeah? Don’t you think you owe him the chance to explain? I mean, come on, you saw those first couple of videos. You can’t even be sure that was Taz! You can’t see the guys face, just his dick being sucked by some random chick. There’s a good chance someone was just fucking with you and with the…Bureau.”
I wiped my eyes. “That’s Trace’s dick, trust me. And for the sake of argument, let’s say it wasn’t. How can he possibly justify that last video? Did you see his face in that one? Did you hear what he called…her?” I was on the verge of hysteria now.
“Calm down,” Darcy ordered, “For the love of God, Lindsey, he had amnesia! He still does. You can’t think that he would purposely do that, can you?”
The tears started again. “God, Darce. I don’t know what to believe. I mean, it’s like I said, where do agencies like the FBI or the CIA draw the line? I remember Trace telling me once that sometimes months and even years of investigative and undercover activities can go into a single mission. I mean, isn’t it kind of naïve to think that these agents don’t have to break laws, establish relationships and do things they typically wouldn’t do in order to fit in? Or at the very least, to protect their cover if it becomes necessary?”
I watched as Darcy bit her lower lip, contemplating what I’d said. “I guess I never thought about it before.”
“Yeah? Well neither did I except now I’m forced to think about it. I don’t have the luxury of ignoring it. I don’t know if I can ever look at him the same way, Darcy. I don’t know if I can ever trust him again, and the worst part of all of this? I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for this.”
“Lindsey, please, don’t get ahead of yourself here. You need to talk to someone about this. Someone that is equipped to help you deal with it. Don’t make any rash decisions. You need to focus on helping Taz get well, and in order to do that, you need to get some counseling for yourself. You’re in pain, Linds.”
“You’re damn right I’m in pain,” I snapped. “And he’s the one who caused it. And Slate. I can’t forget how Slate recruited him for that assignment.”
“Now, come on, Slate is his best friend. You know damn well Slate wouldn’t have sent Taz into something he didn’t feel he could handle.”
“Of course, you’re right. And he did handle it, didn’t he? The problem is that I’m not even sure that counseling could ever allow me to love Trace again.”
“What?” Darcy asked, her eyes widening in disbelief. “You can’t mean that!”
I buried my face in my hands. “I don’t know whether I do or not. It just feels like…like he’s dead! That person I visited today? That wasn’t my Taz. That was a stranger.”
Darcy wrapped her arms around me again. “Hush now, Lindsey, this has just been a shock to you. He’s still your Taz, you know that, right? And, God, you know how much he fucking loves your ass. I wish Easton loved me half as much as Taz loves you.”
“Stop,” I said mid-sob. “Please don’t patronize me, Darce. You have no idea what this is like. I can take about anything, but not your pity.”
“I swear that’s not it,” she said, rubbing my back. “Easton will be home tomorrow night. Will you let him help?”
I pulled back from her, wiping my eyes. “How can Easton help?” I asked. “I know he’s rich, but miracles can’t be bought, you know that!”
“If you let me share this with him, I promise you, he will think of something…maybe find the top specialist in neurology, or some type of experimental treatment for amnesia. He has thousands of connections all over the world.”
“No,” I replied firmly. “This is just between us. Promise me that, please?”
She finally nodded, but I could tell she hadn’t wanted to give in. “Okay,” she said, “On one condition.”
I looked over at her and sniffled. “God. What now?”
“Let me keep the kids for a few days.”
I started to object, but she cut me off. “Listen—listen to me,” she said her voice carrying an authoritative edge. “Harper already knows there’s something wrong and it’s affecting her. She’s been quiet and withdrawn. I worked like hell to get a single smile out of her today, but I finally did. Let them both stay here and hang out with Aunt Darcy and their cousins. Rita can help me and we’ll have a great time, okay? Besides, you need the break to have some down time of your own. Check into getting a counselor through Walter Reed, which I’m actually surprised they haven’t already offered. Will you do that?”
I nodded, reluctantly. “I’m going to call and check on them, just so you know.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she said, giving me a squeeze. “Oh and Linds? One more thing…make up with your mom.”
“So, Lindsey,” Dr. Ralston addressed my wife, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose, “What can you tell me about your relationship with Trace prior to his injury?”
Yeah, I was kind of interested in hearing about that myself. It might explain why my wife was sitting in a chair in the corner of his office rather than next to me on the leather sofa.
Lindsey took a moment, nervously twisting her wedding ring. I made a mental note to ask her where the hell my wedding band might be. I figured since I had been on some sort of a covert mission, I’d tucked it away for safety, but then again, who knows? Maybe I’d flat out been some whore dog of a husband, which was the reason for the arctic treatment I was getting from her at the moment.
“Well, we were close. Really close. I mean, sure, we argued at times, but it was a normal, healthy marriage. We were…happy.”
“What about intimacy?” Dr. Ralston asked.
“Do you mean…our sex life?”
“We can start there.”
Yeah. Let’s do.
I watched as she shifted uncomfortably and lowered her eyes back down to her hands again. “We had a very healthy and satisfying sex life. It was never an issue, at least from my perspective. Trace was my first…and uh…has been my only lover.”
“And what about the children?”
“What about them?”
“How did Trace interact with you and the children?”
She looked over at me briefly and then her eyes shifted back to the doctor. “He was a very loving and attentive father and husband, Dr. Ralston. He was affectionate—both with me and with the kids. He was the best husband and father I could have hoped for, I mean, we were all very, very happy.”
“And now?”
“Now what?” she asked, frowning.
“How do you feel now, Lindsey? I can’t help but notice you aren’t sitting next to Trace. Why is that?”
Yeah. Why?
She shrugged. “He seems like a stranger…like someone else. It doesn’t feel like he’s the same person that he was before he left.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he looks different. I mean, his hair is just starting to come back in from having his head shaved—he never used to shave his head. And then, well, there’s the facial hair he’s got now. He used to be clean-shaven.”
“So then, once his hair grows back to where it used to be and he shaves, will that make him seem less of a stranger to you?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. No.”
“Why?”
“Other things about him are...different.”
“Can you explain?”
And I could see that the doctor was starting to push buttons my wife clearly didn’t want pushed. It was as if she had some sort of an emotional scab that he was intent on picking until he got blood.
“He doesn’t remember any of us,” she snapped, “He doesn’t know that he loved us once, and that supposedly we were his top priority, not the fucking Bureau! He forgot, Dr. Ralston, he forgot before he ever lost his memory, that Harper, Jackson and I were more precious than his career—that he was devoted entirely to us, at least that’s what he always maintained. So, if he didn’t forget it, then that means it was all simply a big fat fucking lie! And I guess that means that our marriage was, too!”
She buried her face in her hands, and my heart was heavy as I heard the sobs escape her. What the fuck should I do?
I got up quickly and went to her side, dropping down in front of her. “Hey now,” I said softly, pulling her trembling body against me. “It wasn’t a lie, I’m sure of that,” I said softly. “I just need time to heal and to remember. Everything will be okay, baby girl.”
“Don’t!” she shrieked loudly, pushing me away. “Don’t you ever call me that, do you hear me?”
I looked over at the doc, helpless to know how I should react, because I sure as hell didn’t intend to make things worse. I had no clue where the ‘baby girl’ had come from; it had just seemed natural for me to call her that.
“Trace, will you step out of the office for a few minutes, please? Have a seat out in the waiting room. I need to talk to Lindsey one-on-one if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” I said, standing up. “I’m sorry, Lindsey. Just holler when you want me back in here.”
I felt so fucking powerless to change how my wife was feeling right now. What kind of a prick had I been? Had I lied to her about my priorities? Had she wanted me out of the FBI for some reason? Slate had tried to fill me in little by little about my tenure with the Bureau, but he sure as hell hadn’t led me to believe it had been a contentious issue between Lindsey and me.
I took a seat in the empty waiting room and leaned back, closing my eyes in an attempt to conjure up a memory—any fucking memory that would help me solve this puzzle.
I must have dozed off while waiting. I was nudged awake by Dr. Ralston, and it half-startled me as I jumped and took a defensive pose.
“Come on back in my office, Trace.”
Once there, I saw that Lindsey was gone. I looked at the doc for an explanation. “Sit, please,” he said, gesturing towards the couch. “I need to fill you in on something.”
I was just finishing the hospital slop when Slate came bustling through the door to my hospital room later that afternoon. He stopped short when he saw the expression on my face.
“Whoa,” he said, grabbing the chair next to my bed, and turning it around so that he could sit on it backwards. “Bad news?”
“Why didn’t you tell me the specifics on those videos the Bureau received from Talia? Hell, I assumed it was just video streams of me loading the shit in the truck, or paying off some Federal at the border. Why didn’t you clue me in?”
“Hey, man, I intended to debrief you on everything once you got out of here and we had more information as to your condition and prognosis. I felt the most important thing was getting you stabilized.”
“So, what about the fact that the bitch also sent the same shit to Lindsey? You didn’t think that was important enough to discuss with me?”
“Come on, Taz. The bitch was sucking your cock while you were obviously unconscious or she would’ve shown your face. She was fucking with us, and with Lindsey, for her own twisted and perverted revenge. You killed her lover, Capri. Remember me explaining that to you earlier?”
“Yeah. I remember. But what about the latest video, huh?”
“The one where you’re not unconscious?”
I nodded.
“Well bro, I guess you need to fill me in on that one, because I’m fairly certain you remember those details.”
I shot a dagger look at Slate, and then started to explain. “It was probably a week or so after I came out of whatever type of coma I’d been in. Talia told me that my name was Daniel—and that I’d been with her for a couple of years. She said she’d recruited me from a rival cartel, and that I was her own personal bodyguard and head of security. She said I had killed a Mexican official trying to protect her and that’s how I had gotten shot. That’s when she filled me in on this designer drug coming in from Nicaragua called ‘Rapture’ and its multiple effects. She described it as being some kind of blend of opiate, amphetamine sprinkled with something similar to Viagra. I mean, shit, she made it sound as if we fucked regularly.”
I paused, remembering how I’d been skeptical even then. “She held no appeal to me at all. She fucking initiated it, man. I swear. I wasn’t even into it, I remember that vividly. And then, when I closed my eyes to shut her out, several images came to me. Green eyes. Long, silky blonde hair, and hell, I don’t know. It was as if I was with this beautiful green-eyed, blonde and at that moment, it just felt right. I guess that’s when I called her ‘baby girl.’”
“So, I take it Lindsey came forth with the video?”
I looked over at him. “No, she came apart in our session with the shrink today. She went fucking ballistic when I called her ‘baby girl.’”
“I can imagine.”
“The doc had me leave the room. She showed him the video I guess, and then she left. He clued me in on it afterwards.”
“Look Taz,” Slate said, “The fact that your pet name for her came back is a positive sign, right?”
I glared at him.
“Well, it is. Now the other part of this is why don’t you explain to Lindsey what you’ve just explained to me?”
“Do you even get that I don’t know my wife, Slate? She hasn’t spent a total of an hour with me since I’ve been here. Now you owe me more information, and I want the fucking truth!”
“Chill,” he said getting pissed. “I’ve never lied to you, Taz. Just calm down and ask away.”
“Did Lindsey and I have a strong, happy marriage?”
“Absolutely.”
“Was I a…whore?”
He chuckled, but I wasn’t finding any humor in this at all. “Hell yeah, we both were. But that all ended when we got married.”
“So, you are faithful to—”
“Sammie,” he supplied. “Yes, I am, one hundred percent.”
“And me?”
“You have been one hundred percent faithful to Lindsey. Hell, you adore her and your kids. No question about that.”
“Well you’re wrong. I might’ve been faithful to her before this assignment, but obviously that changed, didn’t it?”
I watched as Slate ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Can I clue you in on something that we all learned at the academy and for the moment, you can’t recall?”
“Have at it,” I replied.
“One of the last things they teach agents that are being trained and groomed for undercover work is that pretty much anything goes when you’re entrenched balls deep in an investigation or covert mission. We’re talking national security many times and, at the very least, we’re talking about multiple lives being in jeopardy. We do what we have to do based on the level of risk, the nature of the investigation, and the resources available. At times, that means we break our own laws, engage in criminal behavior, and unfortunately, the sad truth is we may be put into a position where we are forced to set aside our moral convictions for the greater good. The thing is, you weren’t even aware of who you were at the time so you need to let yourself off the hook on this, brother. It wasn’t you in that video. Trust me.”
“Tell that to my wife, Slate.”
“Taz, you’re a Ph.D. for Chrissake. And I know that sooner or later, all the knowledge you’ve gained as a result of your education, training and practical experience will surface again, buddy. You’ll know how to handle your marriage.”
“Let’s hope it’s soon, Slate. I’ve got a feeling Lindsey’s ready to end it. And I still think you should’ve given me a heads up about that shit from the start. I suppose her mother hates my guts as well?”
