Imagine, a whole month together…♥

I want your body pressed to mine, to make love again and again. Sometimes, it feels like last December was just a dream.

I miss you so much. I’m counting the days to graduation when I can see you again. I’m on the pill now, so we won’t have to mess around with condoms.

Just a few more months, and we can be together.

How cool is it that your sister is salutatorian and your girlfriend is valedictorian?! Freya and I will sit next to each other at graduation and will give our speeches back-to-back. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate, knowing you’ll be watching, but I will practice and practice my speech to make you proud.

I love you,

Kira

Freya swiped at the tears that fell as she reread the letter she’d found in her brother’s apartment two months after his death twenty-two years ago. He’d died along with their parents in a terrorist suicide bombing at a market in Greece, just weeks after receiving lingerie in a care package from seventeen-year-old Kira.

Freya had known Kira since middle school. She’d recognized Kira’s crush on her older brother almost from the start, but Apollo was three years older, and, being a full-of-himself jock, had mocked Kira when she wasn’t around.

Finding the letter when she was so deep in grief, she hadn’t been able to process what it meant even though she understood the gist. Her twenty-year-old brother had taken advantage of Kira’s infatuation when he was home for winter break. That was bad enough, but it wasn’t what triggered Freya’s tears. No, that ache came from the fact that her brother had a girlfriend in Paris at the same time he was seducing sweet young Kira.

Worse, this fact was revealed to Kira long before Freya found the letter.

His girlfriend had posted all over the weblog—newly dubbed “blog” back in the dark ages of the internet—created in their hometown to send condolences to Freya as she cleaned out her brother’s apartment in Paris and arranged her entire family’s funeral in Greece. Apollo’s girlfriend had posted repeatedly, sharing photos of her and Apollo kissing in every corner of Paris and the French countryside.

Truth was, the woman had been a nasty piece of work who tried to claim Apollo’s TV and couch until Freya showed the literal receipts that proved she was lying.

At the end of those awful days, she’d found herself wishing Kira had been his actual girlfriend. But no. He might have been a great brother, but he was a shitty man who’d never had a chance to grow out of being a dick to women.

In the years since Apollo’s death, Freya had never revealed to Kira that she’d found the letter. She’d been too overwhelmed with her own grief at first to be able to face Kira’s certain pain. Later, she hadn’t wanted to embarrass the other woman.

She must’ve been gutted at seeing the blog comments with photos of Apollo with another woman, but as the years ticked by, surely that pain had eased?

Even if it had, it was the kind of thing that left deep scars, especially because Kira had been so…young. She and Freya were the same age, but somehow, Kira always felt younger.

She wondered about those scars now. Kira was shy and flustered easily. Freya knew she intimidated her, and assumed it was residual embarrassment over Apollo’s betrayal. Still, hiring Kira as a consultant for Friday Morning Valkyries had been a no-brainer. She was confident when it came to her work and always delivered.

Until Freya got her abducted.

And now Kira could be in trouble again, and it felt wrong somehow that they’d never buried their shared pain at Apollo’s death, shared horror that the brother she loved could be so rotten.

Just once, she could have hugged the woman and told her how bright and beautiful she’d been at seventeen and how grateful Freya was to have her in her life now.

She didn’t want to lose her before they could have that conversation. Kira was the only person who remained from Freya’s old life, when she had a family, before she became a covert operator.

Freya’s husband, Cassius, entered her office. He took one look at her face and said, “What’s going on, Frey?”

His concern triggered another tear. Or maybe it was just her complicated, secret history with Kira. She swiped at it. “Nothing.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Liar.” He nodded toward the folded letter she gripped tightly. “What’s in that letter? This isn’t the first time you’ve held it and cried.”

She let out a deep breath. “I…I can’t tell you. It’s not my letter. Not my story to tell.”

Should she have burned the letter when she found it? Why had she kept it?

Because Kira lost Apollo too.

Freya had felt so alone in her grief. Her brother’s girlfriend had been a nightmare to deal with. In spite of the fact that Apollo clearly didn’t deserve her, Kira had known him for years and loved him. Her grief had been deep and real.

When she’d read the letter all those years ago, she’d felt a connection to Kira.

“Fine. But whose story is it?”

“Kira’s.”

“From when you were kids?”

“Yes.”

“If it’s about her father, it’s relevant.”

“It’s not. But damn, I’m so worried. Rand will be with her the next time she meets with her so-called cousin.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Not if she doesn’t know. As long as she believes he’s who he says he is, she’s not in danger from him. He’s obviously using her for something. This way, we can find out what that is.”

“When she learns the truth, she’s going to be angry at you, but Rand’ll be the one to pay for it.”

She felt sick at the idea of spiking things with Rand for Kira. But this was what she did. She was an operator who knew the game and how to get the best results. To protect Kira, they needed intel. To get that intel, they needed Kira’s sweet unworldliness to work in their favor. But it came with a steep price. “I’m afraid when all this is over, Kira’s going to hate me more than she already does.”

In her mind, she gave the real truth she couldn’t share with Cassius: I’m afraid she’ll hate me more than she hates my brother.

Apollo was Freya’s brother.

Her dead brother.

To say Rand was stunned was an understatement. Freya had never mentioned her brother. Or her parents. But then, Freya never talked about her life before the CIA. She didn’t really talk about the CIA portion of her life either, but Rand had first met her and her husband in Djibouti before they were a couple. He’d been on several ops that she’d orchestrated or facilitated during the months his team had been deployed to the Horn of Africa.

She’d been one of the best in the field intelligence-gatherers he’d ever worked with. He respected her, but she’d been hard to like back then. Of course, this was true for most special operators, especially ones in positions like hers, where secrets and manipulation were paramount to getting the job done. It wasn’t until after she’d left the CIA that they’d really become friends.

He tried to imagine the well of pain she’d suffered at losing her family all at once just before her eighteenth birthday. Now he understood the cold operative she’d been a little better. But it was Kira’s loss and pain that mattered here and now. “Apollo was a dick, you know.”

She nodded. “I know. Still hurt at the time.”

It still hurt her now, or she wouldn’t have invoked his name when she was delirious after being abducted.

She’d looked at Rand and thought of Apollo. That had to mean she’d also felt the chemistry that had burned bright the day they met. But Kira’s words that day had also revealed her deep distrust.