One Hot Desert Night(24)

He moved forward, and when she backed away, he felt as if she had run  him through with a blade. "Do you understand that if I wanted to harm  you, I would have already done so?"

She seemed to mull that over for a moment. "This isn't about me. It's  about what you do. I can't begin to imagine intentionally taking  someone's life."

She could not imagine the monsters he had seen. "Would you feel more  comfortable if I told you my services have rarely been needed?"

"Exactly how many have there been?"

If he told her, he'd been further crossing into treacherous territory,  and not because of the minimal incidents. "I pledged my loyalty and  silence when I assumed my military obligation. Any admission would be a  direct betrayal to my country."

"Failure to admit it will only make me worry about my judgment when it comes to men."

He despised that she would doubt herself, or his intentions. Therefore,  he would supply the answers she needed. "Two men. One had been plotting  to set off a bomb in the middle of the village at the behest of a  radical coalition based north of Bajul. The other planned to gun down  Rafiq's father during a public event. I was charged with protecting the  former king."

"I see. The assassin destroyed the assassin. Makes perfect sense." The cynicism in her voice said otherwise.

"As difficult as it might be for you to believe, I was forced into this  position." Now that he had revealed too much, he braced for more  questions.

"Explain how someone is forced to become a killer."

He was torn between remaining silent and telling her the entire truth.  To return to that part of his past would be painful, and he hated to  resurrect those long-buried emotions. To refuse the woman who had boldly  admitted her love for him would be unforgivable.

Rather than search for the words, he chose to show her. "If you want  answers, then you must come with me to a place where you will find  them."

She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "Before I agree to do this, you  have to give me more information about where you are taking me."

The fact he had destroyed her trust wounded him deeply. "It is a site in  the desert not far from here." He looked down at her bare feet. "Our  hike will require appropriate shoes."

"I don't care if I have to don a parka and knee boots, as long as I can solve this mystery."

"As soon as you dress, I will meet you at the entry of the bunker."

"Fine. I won't be long."

After Sunny departed, Rayad questioned his wisdom, and if he would be  able to provide all the information she needed to understand why he had  lost his soul, and his way. Why his heart had been broken beyond repair.  Why he could never be the man she needed.

* * *

The sweltering heat began to take its toll on Sunny as they trekked  through several passages on rocky ground. After twenty minutes of  unsuccessfully trying to keep up with her guide, she rounded one giant  stone formation and entered open desert. She caught sight of Rayad  standing atop a dune and headed toward him to see why he had stopped.  Hopefully, they'd arrived at their destination, though she saw nothing  other than desolate terrain devoid of all forms of life. But when she  climbed the sand hill and came to his side, she viewed a veritable oasis  in the middle of nowhere, with an olive grove on one side, along with  palm trees and varied plants on the other. In the middle of all the  unexpected greenery, another sight sent shockwaves coursing through her.  A massive pile of stone and charred wood, soaring to at least thirty  feet, if not more, marred the inviting landscape.                       
       
           



       

"What is this place?" she asked, once she'd recovered enough to speak.

"The key to my past."

When Rayad began to stride toward the ruins, adrenaline gave Sunny a  burst of energy, and she matched him step for step. He stopped at a  tangled metal structure that appeared to have once been a gate and took a  seat on what was left of the stone support.

She claimed the spot beside him and waited for further explanation. When  it didn't come, she opted to prod him. "Tell me about this place and  what happened here, Rayad."

"This was once my palace," he said with surprising detachment. "It was destroyed in an explosion."

She'd predicted a fire had caused its demise. Wasn't the first time she'd been wrong today. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Two of my staff members were killed, and there were others."

As much as she hated that innocent employees had lost their lives, the others greatly interested her. "Who else was here?"

"My wife and our three-year-old son."

She'd mistakenly believed she wouldn't be stunned anymore today. "You told me you'd never been married."

"I told you I was not presently married."

When she thought back to their initial conversation, she realized he was  right. In fact, she recalled he'd evaded the question, and she'd sensed  a story behind that evasion. Time to get to the bottom of that story.  "This wasn't an accident, was it?" she asked, though she knew the  answer.

"It was not."

Now everything had begun to become crystal clear, except for pertinent details. "Who did this?"

He momentarily covered his face with both hands before returning his  attention to the destruction. "Some vengeful person who wished to strip  me of all that I held dear."

At the sound of the abject sorrow in his voice, Sunny fought to hold  back her own emotions. "I am so, so sorry, Rayad. I hope the perpetrator  suffered for his acts."

He fisted his hands resting on his thighs. "I have never discovered the  murderer's identity, though I have spent ten years searching for the  evil miscreant who destroyed my home and my life."

"And this is what led you to become an assassin."

"Yes. I used my connections in an effort to root him out, and on the day I finally confront him, I will kill him on sight."

"What if that day never comes?"

"I will not stop searching until I find them, or draw my last breath. I owe that to my wife and child."

The quest for revenge had obviously consumed him for years, and still  did. "I don't know anything about your wife, but if she was like most  women, she wouldn't want you wasting your life on a futile mission to  avenge her death."

Rayad stood and began to pace, hands knitted together behind his neck.  "Lira was not like most women. She was kind and gentle and a superior  mother. She worshipped our son, Layth, as well as myself."

At least now she had names to go with his family, and a strong sense of  sympathy for his plight. "I can't imagine what you've had to endure, but  I do hope that someday you'll try to be happy."

He kept pacing liked a caged cougar, as if he couldn't physically stand  still without succumbing to the sorrow. He also avoided looking at her.  "I cannot be happy until I avenge my family's deaths by destroying their  killer."

"And if that happens, will you truly be content knowing you exchanged one life for another?"

"Four lives," he said adamantly as he turned toward her. "I will achieve  some semblance of atonement for my transgressions. Had it not been for  my duty, they would still be alive."

She pushed off the stone pillar and stood before him. "But you still have no idea who might be responsible."

"I have followed several leads, but all have been dead ends. I still have more to investigate, including enemies of my father."

Evidently, he was into self-torture. "Then you're saying this tragedy  could have resulted from your father's connections, and you might not be  responsible at all?"

He dropped his arms to his sides and looked defiant. "That possibility  is remote at best. Regardless, I moved Lira and Layth to this remote  location to protect them. I failed in that endeavor and by virtue of the  fact I should have been there that night. My covert activities  prevented me from achieving that goal."

"And if you'd been there, you would be dead, too."

"In the beginning I wished that very thing. My mission aided me in moving forward."

"You're not moving forward, Rayad. You're caught in a prison comprised of guilt and hatred."                       
       
           



       

His expression went stone cold. "Have you not wished ill will on your captors?"

"As a matter of fact, I have. I've fantasized about tying my abductor up  in a heavy blanket and beating him with a baseball bat. My therapist  said that was healthy, as long as I didn't act on it. I thought that was  kind of humorous since I can't harm a phantom."

"And you have never desired to know his identity?"