He rewarded her compliment with a kiss, and Jules gave herself up to the beauty of the now. Worrying about the future could wait.
Several long moments later, she settled back into Ash’s arms. They were quiet, peaceful, and then Ash began to talk.
“Meg died saving my life.”
She pulled her head back and looked up at him, genuinely shocked. She had thought she knew everything about that night.
“How?”
“We were supposed to go to the lake together. I got called into a late meeting. She decided to go on without me, said she’d set things up and get dinner started. I called her from the office to tell her I was on the way. She picked a fight with me. Told me she was tired of my late nights and excuses. Of me always putting my work first. That she wanted some time to herself. Told me to stay away.
“I hesitated. Dammit. I hesitated. Maybe if I hadn’t…” He shook his head. “Meg and I had been having some issues. Having an argument with her about my long hours didn’t seem that much of a stretch. It wasn’t the first time, but I should have realized something was different about this one. We had agreed to go away together…to try to work things out, and then she told me not to bother.
“The coroner figured Clark probably killed her right after she spoke with me.” His voice went emotionless, and she knew he was fighting back the pain. “She had forty-two stab wounds. He was in a rage, no doubt because she had tried to keep me away.”
“But you left for the lake immediately after talking to her.”
“Yeah. Not that it did any good.”
“You couldn’t have saved her.”
“If I had been there when he arrived, I could have. I put my work before my marriage. Before Meg.”
“Ash, you know in your heart of hearts that’s not true.”
“If I hadn’t pursued Turner, Meg wouldn’t have died.”
As if he couldn’t handle having this conversation while she was in his arms, he released her and sat up in the bed. Jules moved away slightly, but unable to bring herself to totally break their contact, she kept one of her legs interlocked with his.
Ash stared into space, and she could easily imagine the hell he was seeing in his mind.
“I should have let it go.”
“You had every right to demand justice for those men.”
“It was a long, bloody battle. I don’t know if that was their plan—that we all die or if they literally never thought about us again.”
“How many died there?”
“Five. I was the only survivor. Although there were plenty of days I wished I’d died with them.”
“What happened?”
“I was captured, questioned. They were excited to have an American. I didn’t tell them I was a Marine. That would’ve made them way too happy. They had some fun with me. I lost consciousness. Next time I woke up, I was in Syria.”
“Syria? But how?”
“Cartel had no interest in me other than the money I could bring them. They sold me to some terrorists, who had their own agenda.”
She knew there was much more to the story. Knew that he’d been questioned, beaten numerous times. He had barely survived. They had planned to use him as propaganda, a bargaining chip.
Pain and anger dripped from every word he’d shared, but she let him tell the story the way he needed to.
“Liam and Xavier were being held hostage in a prison there. Hawke, Sean, and Gideon broke in and got us out.”
“They knew you were there, too?”
“No, I was a stranger to them. They came to rescue Liam and Xavier. I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.”