She nodded, "Precisely." She leaned in and barely spoke when she whispered, "He thinks they're working with Servario. He thinks you were Servario’s demand all along."
My stomach dropped. My voice dropped low, "I just got whored out by the fucking military to the arms dealer, who is being blamed for my husband’s fake death?"
She nodded against my face, "Oh good, at least you know that no one thinks James is dead. We think he’s still working with Servario. Or maybe even CI. We’re starting to think, the shit has been piled on us. Like the mission was a fake too. Something to appease Servario."
My skin tingled and my brain worked overtime. Had my husband just agreed to let a criminal have his way with me? Had he let that same criminal take everything away from our family? His children’s food and money? I felt like I was going to burst out of my skin and go in every direction at once. I looked at her and nodded, "You got running clothes here?"
She nodded at the ceiling. I tugged at the robe and ran from the kitchen. I took the stairs several at a time. My feet screamed but I didn’t care.
I burst through the bedroom to find Coop standing in the middle of the room with his shirt off.
I stopped and noticed the cut of his abs and the thickness of his chest. His arms were veined and bulky. He was strapping and brawny without a shirt on, but still cut nicely enough that he didn’t look huge and beefy in clothes. I noticed the single round blue and orange tattoo on his right hipbone. It was the one I had caught a glimpse of before.
His eyes met mine with cold blue fury. He walked past me and out of the door, leaving me upstairs with the smell of his deodorant and the scent that was just him.
I walked to the duffels of clothes and found things I could make into running clothes.
I strapped on Luce's runners, which were a half-size too big and headed for the front door.
I slipped out the front door and burst like a shot. It was how I ran, fast and furious.
My feet slapped the cement in horrid amounts of pain, but I pushed it.
I heard the sound of someone else running. I looked back, seeing Coop. He was gaining on me. His legs were thick and strong. Good for the short spurt. Mine were long and lean. I could carry a distance, he couldn’t. I knew that just by looking at him. I sprinted ahead and let my stride widen.
He caught up almost instantly.
His face was red and angry.
I shook my head, "You won’t last with me, Coop." I gasped for air. I loved it.
He huffed along, "I think I'll surprise you."
I shook my head, "I'm older. I’ve got better stamina that’s been built up over time. I've been running for a long time."
He grinned, "I got your stamina, baby." He licked his lips, "I think I could outlast you easy."
I laughed and shook my head, "You're a perve."
He nodded, "I want to hear it. I need to hear about it."
I felt my chest tighten. I stopped running and wheezed. I put a hand up, "You don’t want to know."
He paced around me with his hands on his hips, "I need it. I need to know."
I shook my head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He grabbed my arms and pulled me to him, "You’re different than you were before. I wanna know why.”
I frowned, “I’m not different.”
He nodded, “I watched you. I saw it. The mundane, bored, fucking housewife to that prick, James. God damned, Evie. How are you so smart and so clueless at the same time? James never loved you. I saw that the first time I watched you all."
I huffed for air and watched his angry eyes fighting the things he wanted to say. "I saw it right away. You were so lonely and sweet. You did everything for everyone else. When was it ever going to be your turn? They were sucking the life out of you. All three of them just took and took and took. Like leeches."
I pulled my arms from him, letting rage fill me, "It’s called being a parent dumbass. You make your kids first." Momma bear was starting to surface. I put my finger in his face, "YOU wanna know so bad, for your fucked-up little game? Fine. He fucked me. He fucked me on the plane and he fucked me in the hotel. It was fabulous, if you have to know. Happy?”
“No.”
I scowled, “You were watching me and my family? That’s fucking creepy."
I turned back to the house but he grabbed my hands and held me tight, "I HAD TO WATCH! IT WAS MY JOB! IT BECAME MY WHOLE LIFE TO WATCH YOURS SUCK! TO WATCH YOU BE SO PERFECT AND SO AMAZING AND GET NOTHING BUT THOSE LITTLE MOMENTS ALONE OR ONE FUCKING NICE WORD FROM YOUR KIDS!"
I slapped him, hard. His eyes lit up. He grabbed my hands, "You feel better?"
I started to laugh/cry, "NO! GODDAMMIT!" I ripped my arms from his and turned and walked back to the house.
How the fuck did a frat boy see so many things that I had missed? “Don’t talk about my kids like that!” I muttered.
An instant pain ripped into my ankle, as I lost my balance and went down on the grass next to me. The fury ended with that.
"Fuck! I wore those stupid, six-inch heels without an issue and now I've twisted my ankle in runners.”
He plopped on the grass next to me but never said anything for a few minutes, as I rubbed my ankle.
“You’re different. I can see it.” he finally spoke.
I nodded, “You were right. I was lost in it. I let them get bigger than me, all of them. I’m an extremist. I do everything one hundred percent. It’s why I quit CI. I knew I could never be a mom and an agent. I need to be the best.” I lay back on the lawn of the strange house I was in front of, and looked up at the desert sky, "Is it ever this blue, back home?" I asked, not wanting to discuss it anymore.
"Not in Boston. But then again my home is Hawaii, so it has its moments there."
I turned my face, "You’re from Hawaii?"
He nodded and turned his face to me.
I sniffed again, "Is the symbol on your hip Hawaiian?"
He shook his head. I saw him shut it off when he spoke the words, "My little brother drew it for me when he was eight."
I let him have the last word. There were too many things in the sentence he wanted to stay hidden. Instead, I asked the obvious, "So you think James is alive?"
He nodded, "Some shit has happened in the last couple days that makes no sense."
I flinched, "You think they traded me for something?"
He nodded, "I have no idea what. I knew something was up when they let you ride on the plane with him. That’s a huge risk for an agent. But then to make you kill the fat man, who by the way, had done time for bad things with a fourteen year old girl in Havana and gotten away with it."
I smiled, "Thank you."
He nodded, "Then for them to make you stay in the hotel with Servario? Why? For what? To kill Derringer, a lame agent who means nothing to anyone? No, none of this is adding up."
My brow knit together, "That doesn’t make sense."
He nodded, "I know. I mean what's so special about you?"
I laughed as he backpedaled quickly, "I mean… well, you now. He's like a rich arms dealer and you're… a regular…"
“You mean a cougar?” I gave him my most offended look and shoved him.
He laughed and pointed, "Admit it."
I crossed my arms under my flattened chest and nodded. "You're right. He can buy any girl he wants. Why me—and did James trade me to Servario? If that’s the case, I won’t recover from that one. I’m not a prostitute."
He rolled over and faced me, "What about what James was working on?"
I shrugged, "You know as well as I do, he never told me shit."
He narrowed his eyes, "We are missing a piece of the puzzle and I know you're the key."
I looked back at the house we were in front of and then back at him, "We need to get off these people’s grass. I would be flipping out, if I were them."
He laughed and stood offering me a hand, "How's the foot?"
I sighed, "Sucky."
He bent down, "Get on."
I frowned, "What?"
"Get on. Piggy-back ride."
I shook my head but he backed into me. I wrapped my arms around his thick neck. He lifted me like I was nothing and carried me.
"Feels like a camel ride."
He chuckled, "Focus. So what kind of gigs did you have as an agent?"
I closed my eyes and remembered, "We mostly worked September 11th back then. It was fresh. That was our major goal. Servario was a gunrunner; we focused hard on anyone who was involved in weapons."
"Did you uncover anything you shouldn’t have?"
I laughed, "I was fresh off the farm. I ran coffees and got into the field for basic shit. I never was a big player, ever."
He tapped his fingers against my calves, "Weird. You don’t recall seeing anything and thinking, this is weird or anything like that?"
I shook my head and wrapped my legs and arms tighter.
"You like having me between your thighs?" he asked sarcastically.
I grinned, "I do, actually."
He looked back, "Yeah?"
I nodded, "It's nice. I can tell all my older-lady cougar friends that I rode on you."
He looked back, "If you want, I can give you something to tell them about."
I rolled my eyes, "I don’t do the whole notch on the belt thing, Coop. Wasn’t my thing fifteen years ago and it's not my thing now. I am not the person I was in the hotel. That doesn’t happen to me, ever. You may have been a gigolo in Sweden, not me. I ran coffees and Intel."
He crossed the street to the safe house and walked up the driveway. He opened the door and carried me in.
"You can put me down." I slapped his shoulder.
He squatted and let me climb down. I limped to the single couch in the room.
Luce gave me a nod, "You hurt yourself?"