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“The FBI thinks I’m a traitor,” I say, and her eyes widen a bit. “But I’m not. I swear I’m not,” I rush out, hoping to reassure her. An unrelenting need for her to trust me churns in my gut. If this is going to work, she has to believe me. “I was just questioned by some of the handlers there and because of that, I had to cut off contact. I had every intention of getting back in touch with them, but I haven’t had a good way of doing that just yet.”
“Oh. But are they like, after you now?” Her question seems uncertain, and she waits patiently for me to give her a good answer.
The thing is…I don’t have one. I don’t have one because they are after me. They’re treating me like an enemy of the state, and that puts her in just as much danger as G3 being after us does.
I just can’t tell her that. Not yet.
Driving the highway in the middle of the night is the best way to travel, and there’s no way they’ve been able to track me. They could have only gotten as far as Margaret’s apartment, and even then, they may not have found it yet.
I look over to see she is passed out, and it gives me a minute to breathe for the first time since I grabbed her off the street. Finding out she was being tracked, knowing they’d seen me with her and maybe even going into her place had induced a rising anxiety I’d never experienced before.
It was a natural instinct, I think, to feel protective over women, but ever since our night together, it wasn’t just that. It was more. She was more—more than I was expecting, more than I was ready for, more than I wanted.
I grew up with an older sister in a small town. There were only a handful of guys she liked over the years, and even then, it was scarce. There was one time in high school that started me on a path like the one I’m on now, the one that has me trying to protect and serve the innocent of the world, to stop harm from coming to their front doors.
I was a sophomore and she was a senior, so we didn’t run into each other much during the day. I was trying out for the football team when I saw it. I was listening intently to what the coach was saying; we’d just finished with the tryouts, and I heard a grunt. It was so faint that if you weren’t aware of your surroundings like I had always been, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it.
But I heard it, and when I saw what I saw, it was like a whole new side of me was unleashed.
One minute, Lyla was pinned underneath the biggest linebacker I’d ever met, and the next, I had him pinned under me as I reeled back and punched him again and again until his face was unrecognizable and the coaches had to pull me off.
Thankfully, Lyla was fine, but I wasn’t. I was pissed. I was adamant he get kicked off the team, expelled from school, arrested—whatever it took.
Unfortunately, his father was a powerful man in town, and all he got was a two-week suspension.
The damage was done. I’d already proven that no one messed with my sister, and according to her, no one ever tried to after that. Everyone seemed slightly terrified of me for the rest of my high school career.
I didn’t give a shit about that, though. I wasn’t there for long and had never planned on sticking around. I signed up for the Army the minute I graduated and was gone a month later. I only ever went back to see my sister, and these days, that didn’t happen very often.
Lyla is the only person in the world besides my buddy Mike who I am protective over—until Margaret came along and that feeling arose again in full force. I don’t know what to do about it, but I do know it is a dangerous feeling in this situation.
When we reach the town I know Mike retired to, I start to relax for the first time.
Mike and I served in the Army together, and I consider him a brother. He didn’t join the FBI after the Army like I did, but he’s just as loyal to the cause as I am and the only person in the world I trust with this kind of work.
Plus, I know he’d keep Margaret safe if something were to go down with me.
I pull into the neighborhood, and Margaret starts to stir. As she yawns and stretches her arms over her head, her shirt rides up a little, and a sliver of her skin peeks through. A memory of our night together flashes through my mind before I refocus and clear my throat.
“We’re here,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt and turning off the car. I’ll need to steal another one when I leave here.
“Wow. Nice neighborhood for a bachelor,” she replies, eyeing the house in front of us.
“He’s married, actually.” I met Jen after Mike and I got out together. She was Mike’s high school sweetheart, and they reconciled over the years when he was in the service. When he was discharged, he snatched her up right away, and I was the best man in his wedding.
“Oh. I assumed he was like you, I guess.” She looks to me, and I shake my head.
“Nope, he doesn’t work for the government anymore.”
We don’t say anything else as we climb out of the car. She grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder then I lead her up to the door. I notice the sun beginning to rise and hope I’m not about to wake anyone up.
We wait for someone to answer the door, and I see Margaret nervously shuffle beside me. “Don’t be nervous. It’s gonna be okay.” I grab her hand, and she lets me.
“I’m not nervous.” She bites her lip but continues to fidget. Rolling her eyes, she looks at me and says, “I’m about to pee myself if I don’t find a bathroom in like one minute.”
A chuckle escapes me when I realize she’s serious. I should have known nothing would faze her at this point and her biggest concern would be making it to the bathroom in time.
The door opens then and Mike is there, looking worn out and tired, and he gives me a shocked look. “Holy shit!” His grin widens as he pulls me into the house, and I drag Margaret behind me. He wraps me in a hug and I groan, my wound stretching with his intense hug. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He gives me a look and helps himself, lifting my shirt and eyeing the haphazard bandage I’ve got on it. “Dude, you get into some shit?”
