Duel of Assassins by Dan Pollock Read Free Book Online Page B

the woman who wants to share your
life. Please don’t shut me out, Taras. At least tell me how long you’ll be
gone.”
    “I don’t really know. I swear I’ll come back as soon as…
well, as soon as I can.”
    She took his wrists. “Taras, I’m sure Scotty made it all
sound earthshaking. But what about me, and what about us? How long is this
going to go on? I need a full-time man in my life. We talked this all out, you
agreed, dammit! I don’t want to turn around at a partry and find out you’ve
vanished under myster-ious circumstances—”
    “I’m sorry. I tried to get back to you, but they said there
wasn’t time, that Larry Hornaday would explain where I went.”
    “I don’t care what they said, or what Larry was
supposed to tell me. You didn’t say a word. I don’t like it, and I won’t
accept it. I need a man who is there for me, don’t you understand?”
    “I know that. And I promise—”
    “Oh, please don’t promise anymore.” She shook her head
hopelessly, then leaned against him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “I’m
crazy about you, Tarushka. You know I have been since I first looked into those
damn soulful eyes of yours. But I haven’t got forever. Maybe you’re just not
good for me. And maybe I have to start thinking about what’s good for
Charlotte, you know? Maybe I’ve got to start looking around for some ordinary,
domestic-type guy to replace you in my life.”
    “Charlie, come on now—”
    “I’m serious , Taras, dammit. It’ll tear me apart, but
if you walk out of here tonight without—I don’t know—without a where or what or
how long or a promise to call me, don’t bet I won’t do something. Do you
understand?”
    Before he could frame some kind of response, she went
pale—and pointed at the open suitcase on the bedspread. Taras cursed his
carelessness; visible under his old belted raincoat was the chromed-steel
barrel of his Smith & Wesson .45 automatic.
    “You’re taking that? You just said it wasn’t dangerous.”
    “It isn’t. At least I don’t think it is. But—”
    “You promised me months ago you were going to get rid of
that obscene thing.”
    “I know, Charlie. And I will.”
    “Oh, Jesus, don’t you know whatthis does to me? Damn you!”
Her eyes gathered fury, her fists balled at her sides. Then her face crumpled
as the tears broke. She fought them, swiping at them with her knuckles, then
took a quick, heart-wrenching step backward as he reached to comfort her.
    “No, you don’t. Just because I’m crying doesn’t mean I don’t
mean what I said. I mean every damn word, Taras. I always have.”
    “I know that.” Arensky stood there, feeling her eloquent
misery along with his own inarticulate pain, yet unable to bridge the chasm suddenly
between them. She would replace him; she had that strength. The threat
about replacing him struck deep. He couldn’t quite dismiss it as being all
bluff. Having a child, he knew, had become for Charlotte the most important
thing in the world, something she would not—dare not—postpone. They had worked
out the critical tietable together: he would quit the Agency; they would
quickly marry and start a family. Only his part in that equation was obviously
replaceable. He dare not doubt her ultimate resolve to pursue her dream without
him.
    She put her back against the bedroom wall, pushed a lock of
hair out of blotched eyes.
    “I’m going to say it one more time, okay? Choose, Taras.
Choose between our life together and the dirty little games they want you to go
on playing. Because, my darling, if you walk out now, as you did at the party,
so help me…” Her voice faltered. “I’ll care if you come back. I’ll always care.
But I may not be waiting.”
    “Charlotte, you know I love you.”
    “But?”
    “But...” He shook his head helplessly. Couldn’t she see his
misery, too? Then, thoughtlessly, he stole a glance at his watch.
    “You bastard!” she whispered. “Am I keeping you then,