Дэвид Балдаччи - The Escape

“So where do you go now?” he asked dully.

“Where they tell me to. Just like you.”

“Can you answer something for me?”

“What?”

“Why were you crying that day back in Charlotte? Was it because we were talking about your dad?”

She looked down at her bare feet, her toes pushing against the wet grass. “No. Like I said, I had gotten over him a long time ago.”

“So what, then?”

She let out a quick breath. “It was because I knew I was going to have to keep lying to you. That I was going to keep on using you.”

“So?”

“So before it didn’t matter to me. Suddenly it did and it hit me like a train that morning.”

“What changed?”

She grazed his cheek with her hand. “I think you know what changed.”

He remained silent.

“I am human, Puller. Despite what you might have thought. I do…care.” She touched his cheek. He clutched her hand, holding on tightly for a few seconds before letting it go.

She said, “Rain check? A big one?”

He nodded. “Yeah, okay”

She ran her gaze up and down him and shivered slightly. “And can I tell you once more how damn fine you look in uniform?” On that, she turned and walked off, swinging her shoes in one hand. She looked back once, smiled a smile that shook him to his knees, and then got into her car and drove off.

Puller watched her go until she was out of sight.

He looked down once more at the plane tickets.

He had never done anything this spur-of-the-moment in his personal life. His whole existence had been rigid, structured, thought out. Whimsy was not part of his wiring. But today all had been based on spontaneity, something he no longer thought he had. He took risks all the time in his professional life. He had taken none in his personal one.

Again – until today.

But Knox was right about many things she had said. They really didn’t know each other that well. And maybe her life was very different from his. And maybe it was all irreconcilable.

But he didn’t regret what’d he done. For at that moment in his life it had been the thing he wanted above all other things.

She had been the person he had wanted above all others. He had never felt that way about anyone before. He wanted her so badly it was actually painful to bear.

He put the plane tickets away in his jacket and headed to his car.

He had gotten his brother back.

And he had lost the woman he believed he could love.

It should have been a wash.

But life didn’t work that way, did it?

He took off his hat and climbed into his car.

He sat there staring in the direction of Big Muddy, his thoughts mirroring the murky depths of the river.

Knox had her national security troubleshooting to pursue.

Puller had his criminals to catch.

Maybe one day their paths would cross again.

He put the car in gear.

Until then, John Puller would just keep doing what he did best.

To Michelle, for always going on the journey with me.

To Mitch Hoffman, for always hitting the right notes.

To Michael Pietsch, Jamie Raab, Lindsey Rose, Sonya Cheuse, Emi Battaglia, Tom Maciag, Martha Otis, Karen Torres, Anthony Goff, Bob Castillo, Michele McGonigle, Andrew Duncan, Rick Cobban, Brian McLendon, and everyone at Grand Central Publishing, for all you do.

To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs Baker, Lisa Erbach Vance, Frances Jalet-Miller, John Richmond, and Melissa Edwards, for a stellar job across the board.

To Anthony Forbes Watson, Jeremy Trevathan, Maria Rejt, Trisha Jackson, Katie James, Natasha Harding, Sara Lloyd, Lee Dibble, Stuart Dwyer, Geoff Duffield, Jonathan Atkins, Stacey Hamilton, James Long, Anna Bond, Sarah Willcox, Leanne Williams, Sarah McLean, Charlotte Williams, and Neil Lang at Pan Macmillan, for continuing to build me to new heights worldwide.

To Praveen Naidoo and his team at Pan Macmillan in Australia, for doing such a spectacular job.

To Sandy Violette and Caspian Dennis, for taking care of me so well.

To Arabella Stein, for being such a good friend and agent. Best of luck in your new career.

To Ron McLarty and Orlagh Cassidy, for your outstanding audio performances. Congratulations on the Audie! Well deserved.

To Steven Maat, Joop Boezeman, and the Bruna team for keeping me at the top in Holland.

To Bob Schule, for doing a particularly superb job on this one.

To Chuck Betack, for keeping me honest on all matters military.

To Steve Jennings, I will never look at DTRA in quite the same way. Your help was invaluable. But I still can’t let you win at tennis (sorry).

To auction winners Shireen Kirk, Lenora Macri, and Susan Reynolds, I hope that you enjoy your characters.

To Roland Ottewell for a great copyediting job.

To Kristen and Natasha, for keeping me reasonably sane!

To Lynette and Art, thanks for everything and best wishes to you in Florida.

And to Spencer, for picking up the laboring oar.