Apparently she wasn't the only one keeping emotions, fears and unanswered questions locked tight. "You always seemed okay with things growing up."
"No one is okay with their mother walking out on her kids for some rich dude." Sydney snapped her gum in a minibubble.
"I guess not." The million-dollar question knocked at her brain. "Do you think she really loved him?"
"God, I hope so. I would hate to think she left us just for the money. But I guess we'll never know for sure. Maybe there aren't any answers here for us." Her hand curled protectively over her belly.
How damned sad to think there would be no answers since they'd both come so far and hurt so much to find them. Would they ever be able to move forward?
Were they both fated to a life on hold?
The noise faded around her. Her mind focused inward. Her world levered sideways until it righted when she hadn't even realized how off-kilter it had been.
She didn't have to stop living life while waiting for her answers. Just as Jack had said. Santuci, too. They didn't need the full picture or a total plan to forge ahead as long as they knew they were on the right path. And she'd almost thrown away their relationship because she hadn't fully understood the importance of living in the moment. "I'm learning we don't have to know all the answers about our childhood right now. We found some new pieces of the puzzle, and we're putting it all together. We're getting there. Making progress. That's good."
"What's this laid-back attitude?" Sydney cocked a brow. "Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"
Monica laughed because Sydney needed it. But the emotional tangles were still multiplying with illogical but real guilt over her sister's pain. Over the pain she'd caused Jack during the past months.
Sydney gave Monica's waist a gentle squeeze-hug while the privacy curtain rippled with the drift of a muggy breeze blowing into the open aircraft. "Thank you for being here."
"Nothing could have stopped me." And wasn't that the truth? Only a week ago she'd been waiting in Jack's VOQ room in Vegas still reeling from what they'd done nearly four months ago in a wedding chapel on the strip. They'd known so damned little about each other, sharing only a killer attraction and a love of Atlanta Braves' baseball. >A whistle sounded from below. Crusty. Jarring Jack as well as Monica beside him.
"Hey, Korba," Crusty shouted up the stairwell with plenty of notice for anyone needing a chance to straighten clothes. "The licorice is all gone and the sandstorm is easing up. So roll your lazy ass out of the bunk and let's get Tiara to her sister."
A flashlight gained brightness as Crusty climbed the stairs. The beam increasingly illuminated Monica's face as she expected., .what? Jack stared back. He didn't have a clue what to offer her other than finishing this mission. Hell. It seemed they both agreed that's all he could do.
Chapter 20
It was all Yasmine could do not to duck and run.
Perched on the top step of the building that had first been her jail and then her haven with Drew, she watched and waited with the others for the sister reunion. Finally, Monica and Sydney would see each other. Certainly she did not begrudge them one moment of the impending closeness or joy, what they had all been working toward.
She just hated feeling on the periphery of it all. She wanted to be invited into the circle of hugs and to rejoice with them, but knew she would not be welcome. No one had even bothered to tell her Sydney was being held hostage, instead leaving her to discover it in such a painful way.
Early morning sun poured over the crowd of Rangers parting as Monica plowed past, her pilot lover firmly at her back for support. The possessive stance stabbed at Yasmine, reminding her too much of what she could have had with Drew.
She focused on the throng of Rangers instead, studied their grit-covered faces and uniforms, sand from the now-passed storm caked in their sweat. For some, it caked in blood. Jack Korba limped ever so slightly as he followed Monica. What had all of these people been through during the night? Her eyes skittered along the group again, searching for Drew just to reassure herself he wasn't hurt and hiding it.
The mass parted on the opposing side. Sydney stepped through. Alive. Yasmine snuck a hand behind her back to steady herself against the cement wall while she searched her sister for signs of mistreatment.
Sydney walked slowly, but then she always did, their dreamer sister never rushing for fear she might miss something or someone. And yet this woman who already gave many of her days to others had been robbed of months of her life. Her normally short caramel hair now grazed her shoulders after so long without a cut, attesting to those lost months.
Monica and Sydney fell into a hug. There was no other way to describe it as both stumbled the last steps. Reaching. Laughing. Crying. Unrestrained emotions and so much love mixed with grief.
The solid block of cement behind Yasmine wasn't enough to steady her. She couldn't imagine what would be.
Rage and shame scoured her. If only she had loosened her hold on her pride enough to communicate with her family, she might have known her sister was in Rubistan, then held hostage. Perhaps she could have sought information. Helped. Brought an easier end to the situation so all these battle-weary faces might have seen less blood today.
So young Private Santuci might have lived.
Self-examination stunk. Yasmine slipped her other hand behind her back for a double dose of steadying against the bullet-pocked wall.
Monica and Sydney eased apart from their hug. Tears streaked tracks down their dusty faces and slid into wide smiles.
"Are you okay, kiddo? God, I've missed you." Monica hugged Sydney again, pulled back. "Look at your hair. It hasn't been this long since you were in the second grade. Are you okay?" she asked again in an un-Monica-like jumble of words.
Sydney's hand tucked into the clasp of the grubby oversize soldier beside her. "I am now. I just want to go home. Sleep. Eat a whole pizza. Sleep some more."