Author's Note: To my readers, for supporting me throughout the beginning of my writing career. Special thanks to my best bud for pushing me back into writing.

Clandestine

By: 4everandalwaysme

The best kind of person is the honest kind. The one who can be confident without seeming conceited, hold pride without arrogance, kind without being overbearing, loving without suffocating his/her partner.

The best kind of person was definitely not a lying, law-breaking, manipulative bastard that went around killing innocent people.

Okay, maybe not 'innocent' per-say. But innocent enough.

"No." Bex practically trampled on his hopes and dreams, but that wasn't what she was going for. She wanted to crush his heart. Stomp on it until there was nothing left to salvage. She wanted to burn the vile thing he called 'love' and watch as this so-called 'love' turned to shes at her feet.

Rebecca Baxter wanted to bring the same pain she had in her heart and shove it into the one who caused it. At that moment in time, she wanted Grant to hurt.

She knew that it was in everyone's best interest that she keep her temper.

At some point in her life, she stopped caring.

"Come on, Rebecca," the man said. He smoldered his eyes at her, hoping for a reaction. He was ready for the unpredictable, be it a whine or whimper, and he knew he would get something out of her. And he did. It's just too bad he didn't prepare himself for the more predictable outcomes of his attempt.

His right eye throbbed where she punched him, but he didn't turn to leave. She stood over him, chest heaving and breathing labored. Bex glared, hoping the chandelier above them would somehow fall right on top of the man.

"Do not call me that," she hissed. Bex wanted to say that the violent action was due to his use of her full name. She wanted so badly to blame it on instinct or a muscle spasm. But she wasn't able to lie in such a state of rage.

Yes, she was angry.

Yes, her knuckles hurt.

No, she would not show just how much he was affecting her.

"Get out, Grant." Pointing to the door, it took all of Bex's strength not to just pounce on him right then and there. She wanted to hurt him, but she knew it would go on her record and result in a reprimand from the boss.

Grant ignored the swollen side of his face as he looked at her. "You don't want that, baby. Just let me explain."

"No!" she exploded. "I don't want a bloody explanation! I want the truth. Right here, right now. Or you can walk away."

She left it at that. There was no need to add the last word. Even so, it rang loud and clear in the near-silent room.

Again. He wouldn't leave her again. Not without giving her answers.

She waited for the painful word to dissolve on her tongue before raising her eyes to meet his. Grant struggled to find his words, even as the confession floated around his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't make a sound for a full two minutes.

"Well?" Bex's eyebrow went up.

Angry wasn't the right word to describe how she felt at that moment. She was absolutely furious. How dare he? How dare he come into her home and expect a warm welcome? Did he not know what she had just gone through?

Grant could only gaze at the woman with sorrow-filled eyes and hope that she wouldn't run off. It took him a lot longer than he expected for his mind to clear.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for leaving you to take care of yourself. I'm sorry they got to you before I could.I'm so, so sorry, baby. But they were one step ahead of me."

His breath came out in ragged pants as he kept going and he slammed his hand against the wooden door frame. "Damn it! They're always one step ahead. Don't you get it? You were never meant to be mine. They planned it out step by step and when this happened- when we happened, they jumped at the opportunity."

"Don't play the victim," Bex scoffed, dread filling her as she thought back. Her mind filled with memories of guns and knives and other horrifying instruments that she couldn't bear to face again.

"They wanted you dead!" Grant shouted. "They tried to kill you! I am not playing the victim, Rebecca, because I'm not. You are."

Bex bit her lip hard to make the stinging in her eyes go away. "I refuse to fall victim to such a low group of villains."

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "You don't get it."

It wasn't a question. It was a mere statement of truths, because she obviously didn't. If she understood, he wouldn't have to stand there explaining himself.

"Then help me understand!" She threw her hands up. "I want to help, Grant. I really do. But I can't do anything if you won't let me!"

It was too much.

Way too much.

She couldn't handle the pressure on her chest. She wanted out. She didn't care how, but she wanted to just leave this ache behind.

And it was then that Rebecca Baxter broke down. Her knees gave out, forcing her body to collapse onto the floor in a sobbing heap. She was a complete and utter wreck.

It wasn't just then. No, she had been a wreck ever since Grant had left her to go on some mission. Ever since he walked away from her It pained him to see her in this state, but he had to finish. If not for her, then for his own closure. That's what he needed: closure.

"I had to leave," he said quietly. "If I didn't, they would have taken you. And they wouldn't have failed to complete the task if they did."

He knew there were reasons for these people to go after Bex. She was a very important asset to the Clandestine Services. But he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that she could have died had he not left her.

It was an impossible thought that only seemed more real as time progressed.

Bex was hysterical. She was hyperventilating, chest heaving with wretched sobs, and she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop, either. For the time being, it was okay to cry.

She was trying to say something. Her words became a jumbled mess, drowned out by tears and sobs and groans of pure pain.

"Hush, baby," Grant soothed, pulling her into his lap. "It's okay. Right now, it's okay."

Forever and Always,

Me