by Amelia Wilde
His words don’t ease my worry. My only comfort is knowing Mom is happy. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Happy birthday,” he responds, shaking my hand. “Call me if you have any questions. I’ll be here tomorrow around the same time.”
He waves at Brynn and Kevin who are clearing out the dining room. I march into the kitchen, joining Aspen, Austin, and Tiago. They’re cleaning the kitchen, washing dishes and putting the leftovers away. We finish picking up within half an hour. Kevin stares at me, unsure of what to do.
“You want us to get the fuck out or stay to keep you company?” Tiago, who doesn’t have filters, speaks.
“I’m off to change, my shift starts in an hour.” Brynn waves. “Happy birthday, Anderson.”
“Thank you for everything, Brynn,” I say, waving back before I hug Aspen. “What are our plans for the night?”
“I’m leaving,” Austin declares, hugging Aspen and whispering something in her ear. She nods, kissing his cheek. He then turns to me. “Happy Birthday, man. Call if you guys need anything.”
Once he leaves, Kevin turns to Tiago. “I guess it’s you and me, want to go to the Silver?”
They both excuse themselves, leaving Aspen and me alone. “So it’s the two of us, any suggestions?”
“Whatever you want, it’s your birthday,” she whispers in my ear making me shiver. Placing her hands on my chest and looking up to me, she does what Aspen does best—worry about others. “Please, don’t lie to me. How are you?”
“It’s close. Every minute I feel how she’s being taken away from me,” I explain to her.
She cups my face, giving me a quick peck. Touching my heart, she murmurs, “She’ll always be with you, guiding you and loving you from Heaven.”
I take her lips, kissing her and sharing my grief. Thankful that I have her by my side. She’s the support I need to get me through this tough time.
28
Anderson
The day arrives too soon. Bradley didn’t give me enough time. The mission is critical. I play a big roll and leaving sets us back a few months. This is who I am, and what I chose to do for a living. I have a deal, but the last thing I want to do is leave this sanctuary behind. Mom isn’t feeling well. Her strength disappears more as the days go by. Earlier today, her new doctor came by to introduce himself and learn about her case. He only said the same as every other doctor had said. “She doesn’t have long, prepare yourself.”
“I wish I could do something,” Aspen said as she closed the door behind the doctor. “We will do our best to make sure she’s with us for as long as possible.”
Tiago: The plane is set to depart in one hour.
Me: Anything else I need to know?
Tiago: Read through my reports. Text if you have any questions.
Me: Done.
Tiago: Don’t expect me to kiss your hand like in the Godfather.
I chuckle. The tightness of my chest loosens up a bit. I’m not concerned about the mission. My concern lies in my mother’s declining health which is gripping my soul. We don’t have much time left.
A hand on my arm settles the anxiety. “Sorry, I can’t imagine what you are going through.”
I glance down at her long fingers resting on the inscription along my forearm. She’s always been drawn to those words. She lifts my chin. I’m looking back at her expressive brown eyes. Their sympathy and love knock down my pity party.
“You lived through something similar with your dad.” I take her hand and kiss the inside of her wrist. “Is there something I can do for you?”
For the past few days, I’ve been the one leaning on her and she’s going through so much also—career changes and expenses. She still needs the money to open a practice. Once we’re more comfortable with each other, I want to offer her the money. Call it a loan or a gift. Whatever the fuck she wants to call it, I want to help with her plans. For now, I can only support her emotionally. “Have you called your mother?”
“Tomorrow we are ordering some equipment,” she announces, staring at her hand. She doesn’t want to discuss her mom. There’s been a recurring message on the answering machine, “Aspy, please, call me.” I have no idea what transpired between them, or why is it that Aspen continues saying, ‘I’m not ready to do it. Not yet’. “I believe your mom is in more pain that she wants to admit.”
Mom never wants to acknowledge her pain and struggles. She only shows the bright side, the optimistic shit. She’s so much like Aspen.
I cup Aspen’s face, aligning my mouth with hers. Unleashing the pent-up frustration of the day, I kiss her hard and fast. Her hands link behind my neck. Her fingers tighten in my hair as we deepen the kiss. Wrapping my arms around her lower back, I press her tight against me. The throaty whimper she produces makes my dick ache. My heart thunders inside my ribcage.
Aspen’s mouth moves against mine. Our tongues battle, moving at their own tempo. We’re driven with need, desire. It’s been too long since I’ve had her, and the moment is too familiar for both. My head says stop while my heart and my cock beg me to keep it going. Live in the moment and ask for forgiveness later.
She releases her hold and she stiffens. I open my eyes to find hers studying mine.
I pull my mouth slightly, leaving a small gap between us. “Beautiful?”
“You’re leaving.” It’s not a question, she just knows. A fear flashes through her eyes. She closes them, grasping my shirt tightly. Once the tension is over, she releases me, leaning her head on my chest and encircling her arms around me. “How long will you be gone?”
“I’ll try to be back soon.” I kiss the top of her head caging her inside my arms. “To be honest, I’m reluctant to leave you.”
“Can you call in sick?” She giggles angling her face, showing me that everything is perfect. The fears she harbors are deep inside a vault. “How important is your presence?”
“We can’t switch the teams once they’re formed. And we are on the second stage of the mission.”
Her gaze is foggy. It’s switched into something feral, with a pinch of lust. “How long do we have?”
I cock a brow at her raspy voice. “Minutes?”
She caresses my jaw. Her other hand travels down my torso until she meets the waistband of my pants. Undoing them fast, she pulls them down past my hips along with my boxers while she drops simultaneously on her knees.
She takes my hard erection between her hands stroking it slowly.
“Aspen, we don’t have to do anything.” Her touch draws a massive groan from the bottom of my pit.
Her hot mouth is on me before I can protest. I buckle my knees to avoid sinking to the floor when she makes me fall apart. My balls throb as her hand plays with them. In and out, curling her tongue against my shaft as she sucks me. Suddenly, she stops popping my length out of her tongue. “It feels like a bad omen.”
“What exactly?” My dick is throbbing as my heart beats faster with those words.
“I don’t know. I just don’t want you to leave.” Her posture goes from stiff and angry to defeat. “It’s maddening to know you’re leaving again to God knows where to do God knows what. Legal or illegal, whatever you do must be dangerous if you can’t say anything about it. Your friend, Tiago, could easily make it to the FBI list of the Ten Most Wanted Fugitives.”
“Tiago hunts men on the most wanted lists of any agency,” I defend him. “He’s a softy. His Cuban mother would kill him if he doesn’t behave like a gentleman.”
She laughs, my joke lightens the mood.
“I love you and we don’t have to do anything just because I’m leaving.” I adjust my dick inside my pants. I take my phone and text her my boss’s number, along with his father’s. Bradley Sr. is part of the company and assists during operations too.
“What did you just say?”
“I’m leaving—”
“No,” she breaths, eyes widen breathing shallow. “The first three words.”
“I love you?” I smil
e at her. She bites her lip, holding her breath. Fuck, this is the worst timing to blurt that out, isn’t it? “You don’t have to say or do anything about it.”
Her eyes look teary, her mouth opens slightly. Her pain flares like a wave of heat in the middle of the desert. “Please, come back to me.” I wish I knew what she’s thinking. I only feel her heart aching.
Capturing her luscious lips with mine, I kiss her hard, my arms looping around her waist, her hands holding my face then gliding to the back of my neck pressing herself closer to me. My fingers map her body for the billionth time, ingraining her scent. I’m making sure I leave a piece of my heart as I take hers with me.
“I love you too,” she whispers. The words slam my chest with such a force that I stop breathing. They fill my body with a dose of energy that might help me finish this mission in less time than I thought.
Fuck, she loves me. I feel like the luckiest guy. “Can you say it again?”
“I love you,” she whispers her eyes looking directly into mine, her soul shining so brightly that I’m blindsided. To anyone else, they would sound like weak words. These three words mean everything to me, to her. She’s finally letting herself do it, fall. We’re finally falling into each other. Adrenaline rushes through my veins furiously, rapidly. I want to tear her clothes off. Bury myself deep, turning ourselves inside out while loving her. Fuck timing. Cool down, Hawk.
Leaning close, I press my lips to her ear, pushing her against the wall. “I wish we had more time.” I kiss her neck. I work my way to her mouth, taking it and giving her the rawest, urgent, most demanding kiss in the history of the universe. Nothing tame, there’s no fucking way I can stay calm when the woman I love is feeling the same way.
But I try.
“You do, huh?” I smirk at her, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“Are we being cocky?” She closes her eyes for a couple of beats. Then she opens them with a new light. I sigh. Thank fuck it’s not a new wall. Grabbing her phone, she asks, “What are these numbers?”
“Mason’s number, remember the guy who offered you a job?” She nods. “He’s my boss. If you need me, call him. He knows how to get ahold of me.”
Aspen nods and taps her phone. “The second is in case you can’t find my boss. His father can help you too. Once I’m back, we can discuss our future.”
Placing my hands on the sides of her arms, I level my eyes on her. “Wait for me. I will come back.”
“Are you sure you’re not a drug dealer?”
This time I don’t hesitate to answer, serving her with a smirk. “As a matter of fact, I am.” Her eyes widen. “For this mission.”
“What?” she squeaks.
“Never mind.”
“Come back to me,” she whispers her mantra.
“I will.” Kissing her temple, I give her one last hug. “Enable the alarm after I leave and stop reading kinky books to Mom.” I wink and shut the door.
The storage unit is hot as hell. I hate Texas during summer time. My hand reaches out flicking the light of the small room. One wall is covered with shelves containing neatly stacked trunks. “I’ll email Bradley while you set up the rest.”
I open a box, pulling out a laptop. I place it on the dusty desk pushed on the other side of the sheet metal wall and connect it to the hotspot of my phone. Tiago pulls out his dress up kit from the trunk: facial hair, dentures, and contacts.
“What do you need sweetheart?” He pulls out his brushes and the mirror. “Some lip gloss to highlight your beautiful lips?”
“Fucker.” I run a hand through my hair while touching my two-week old stubble. I pull out my new I.D.
My alias for the next mission is Winston Jolly. He has blue eyes and light brown hair. There’s now a bump on top of my nose and a scar on my left brow. “Blue contacts, hair dye—light brown, and the makeup shit I hate.”
“Bradley hired a new makeup artist.” Tiago meticulously takes each item out of the box including a second mirror that I can use. While he’s at it, I send an email reporting our status and location to my boss. Tiago plugs the hair clippers into an outlet and begins trimming his beard leaving a light stubble. He removes the rest with a razor. “He has state of the art machines and products.”
I nod, not mentioning that this is my last undercover assignment. Tiago enjoys changing names, voices, and personalities. He can act for months. Bradley and I discussed my future with the company. I want to continue doing strategy and go into the field only for operations that will take a few hours. On missions that are fast, tough, and will pump some adrenaline. I also want to spend some time training new recruits.
“How long will we be in jail?” He asks as he applies spirit gum before his goatee. “Because I can’t have this shit on my face for more than a week.”
“We have two days to find Garret, interrogate him, and pay someone to kill him.” I stare at my reflection. The spray lightens my hair color enough, the scars are in place, and my eyes are a dirty blue. “On day three we escape, make our way to Mexico and finish Amador.”
“Escaping? Is Bradley erasing the charges afterward?”
I take a deep breath. “Not this time.”
“Fuck, we’re going back, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we’re going to ADX Florence.” He growls. That’s one of the best maximum-security prisons in the country, and he hates it. I close the computer after receiving the all clear from Bradley. “There are three stages to this mission, and the last one includes being captured.”
“What the fuck?” He tosses his hands up in the air. “If I didn’t know better, I’d believe he’s setting something up to finish us for good.”
“You’re fucking insane.” I can’t tell him what’s going to happen next. The end is between Bradley and me. Things might not work as I plan and Tiago won’t be on board. I don’t have enough time to convince him. Explaining to him what will happen only minutes before the execution will be my best bet. “Trust him, trust me.”
“Always,” he reiterates.
“As I told you, Mom isn’t doing well.” I press some of the temporary tattoos I carry with me on top of my ink to modify it. The armored clothing is already tucked inside the duffle bags we hid in the runaway vehicle along with fake documents and cash. The last box I open contains eight kilos of cocaine and a thousand pills we agreed to sell to a drug dealer in town. We’re handing over one of the big sellers in town while making our way into prison. “There’s a plan b in case I have to go back home, but we’ll go back to jail—together.”
“How’s your Mom?”
“Hanging in there.” I fake disregard. My problems can’t affect the mission, I can’t think of what’s happening over there.
“If you have to leave, I have your back.”
I nod, pressing my lips together, staring at the mirror in front of me. Not recognizing that man. This man walks a fine line between crime and justice. I do bad things for the so called “greater good.” But is that true or am I just justifying my sins? Will Aspen care about my sins? The guy she deserves is the opposite of who I am while I’m working.
I stop as my mind seems to no longer be thinking straight. The selfish side of my heart doesn’t give a fuck about who I am and wants to drag Aspen into this world, while the other wants to protect her from me and what I do. I don’t know what to do. All I know is that I love her enough that I’m willing to sacrifice everything for her. I’ve fallen for the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Her flaws, her scars, her quirks, and her inner beauty—all of her is perfect. “We’re on our way to a mission. There’s no room in my head for her. Applying makeup doesn’t imply chatting as if we’re about to walk to a photo shoot.”
“Whipped, she has you whipped.” He slaps my back. “Come on, man. Time for the show.”
29
Aspen
“I want vivid colors.” Sophia points at a bright Mardi Gras color scheme. “New Orleans is a beautiful city and their Carnival is so much fun. We could recreate it.�
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Pinterest is my best friend. It walked me through my father’s funeral and we are using it to create the best life celebration for Sophia. She’s creating her own boards and choosing her theme. She has chosen cremation, mass, and a big party.
“Have you called your mother?” she suddenly asks. I shake my head, searching for souvenirs. “What if she’s trying to contact you because she’s sick?”
Burning rage hisses through my body, I hold the iPad in my hands so tight that my knuckles turn white. Any other person would be upset or sad at the possibility of their mother being sick, but not me. It angers me that her insistence is because she needs me to care for her. Just like I had to do with my father. She left me alone in the hospice, and then shoved the funeral arrangements in my hands.
In general, I’m easy going and well-organized—like Mom taught me. So I expected that between the two of us, we would be able to arrange the funeral in only a couple of days. Except my mother didn’t want to deal with that part of the affair, or anything else that involved Dad for that matter. Until now, I thought she was a grieving wife. After analyzing every conversation we’ve had, it hit me like a tidal wave. Mom delegated Dad to my care, from hospice all the way to the grave. Well, not grave. We’re cremating him. Therefore, we have to find a suitable place to rest his ashes.
She’s moving away from Boston. My brother and I don’t live here. No one will visit Dad. Do we want to visit Dad? Organizing a funeral is almost as hard as holding a wedding.
“Money isn’t a problem, Aspen,” Mom informed me after she said over the phone. “I guess there won’t be a final conversation with him. Let me know about the funeral once you’ve decided what to do.”
Me, Aspen Winter Zimmerman, has to organize an entire funeral.
I’d rather be resetting broken bones, reading x-rays, performing emergency surgeries, or delivering babies just as the mother is being unloaded from the ambulance. Can somebody take me back to my ER? Instead of trusting my steady hands to help a patient, I’m trusting multiple boards of Pinterest to give my father one last goodbye. Brooklyn and Scarlett have been helping me create my own board.