by Tara Brown
Mary seemed familiar to me. I watched her move about the room, through the slats, and suddenly it hit. She looked like Jules. Or rather Jules looked like her. I’d always thought she looked like me, but the resemblance was uncanny.
Who was Mary?
James looked around. “Mary, I have to go. I can't live like this anymore. I'm tired, and I've done everything you've asked of me. You have to kill me off and let me live my life out. Servario isn’t going to give me my money back. I want Evie in Croatia, and I want the rest of the money you owe me.”
She moaned. “I just don’t understand how you never got that money back from Evie. And where is the rest of your father's inheritance, James? You burn through money, you're wasteful.” She said the sentence with a motherly tone.
"Mother! I'm not."
I gagged a bit. She was James' mother. Oh, sweet God.
"Darling, I'm not giving you more money while Servario has your money. You need to learn this lesson the hard way and get it back yourself. I can't keep coddling you."
My mother-in-law liked to screw guards in the ass with dildos and watch train-rape porn. Oh, dear God in heaven, that couldn’t be right.
"Look, Servario isn’t giving it up because I technically still owe him the Burrow. So fuck it. Evie was useless, her father is a disappointment, and the real Master Key is never going to be discovered. I want money, I want freedom, and I want this bullshit to be over with. I'm out. I'm done. I am finished and that is that. I never wanted to be CI, and I never wanted to be a husband or a dad. I did everything MI6 asked me to. You and Servario, and the Burrow, and the whole world can sod off.”
He said my father is, not was.
"Fine. But I not happy about this." She pulled him into her embrace. “When we get close to the coastline you can kill the guard, put your wedding ring on his hand and your passport in his pocket, and let this be the end then, my son. You may go to Monaco and enjoy your life. But if I'm footing the bill, then I may need you here and there.”
He sneered. “I'm out. You promised.”
She gripped his head back, ripping at his hair and sliding a knife—I hadn’t seen it in her hand—up against his throat. “Mommy says you are in, if I need you to be.”
He coughed. “Yes, fine. Whatever.”
She kissed his cheek and patted his ass. “Go take care of the guard, the one who looks just like you. Put your wallet and everything into his pockets, tie his feet with the spare anchor in the back, and turn on your cell phone before you leave it in his pocket too when you throw him over. They'll trace him by it.”
He sauntered out of the room.
Mary sat there for a moment, maybe taking it all in or plotting her next assassination. She smiled at herself and got up. When she left the room, I stayed right where I was.
I wasn’t about to roam the boat in broad daylight and get killed or worse—fucked in the ass. I cringed and sat, waiting for a choice. The boat stopped moving. It was subtle because of the size, but I felt it nonetheless.
I pulled on some clean clothes from the closet, not really my style but better than underwear and less stinky than Michele's dirty shirt. I crawled from the porthole and peered around. I assumed we were between Croatia and Italy, in the Adriatic Sea. The colors were insane, and the beauty of the coastline was far more than I’d ever imagined. I lay there, wondering how it would all go down and how I would escape when I heard it.
A scream. “SHE'S ESCAPED!”
That she was me and I was screwed.
Michele might not have gotten the chance to screw me, but James and his evil mother would. I remembered the way the huge guard limped after getting big blacky in the ass. Hell no.
I crawled to the railing and eyed the bright-blue seawater. We were only a few miles off the coastline. I could jump, but then I’d be a refugee in Croatia. I could also drown in the ocean. I looked back at the boat. I could also get traumatized by Mary and later left in Croatia anyway. Just as I was about to jump, I heard something unexpected, a helicopter. It landed on the yacht, at the top level. I barely saw the span of the highest deck as people rushed up there. I took the chance to sneak along the wall to the closet I’d hidden in before.
I pressed my back against the wall as another familiar voice shouted, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU LOST HER? SHE WAS TO BE TRADED! WHY DID YOU EVEN BRING HER HERE? YOU WERE TO TAKE HER TO THE BROTHEL, AND I WAS TO MEET YOU THERE! I GOT THERE AND YOU WERE NOT THERE!” Servario angry was worse than any other sound. Well, except for the sounds in Mary's bedroom, those were way worse.
He wasn’t on the boat all along?
We were supposed to meet him at the brothel, not here?
I gripped my gun and waited for them to find me.
“Search the water. She jumped. Trust me. I know her well.” He walked past the closet, slamming the door at the end of the hall.
Mary shouted, “THAT MEANS YOU!” She stormed down the hallway, and opened and slammed the same door as Servario. That was weird.
Fuck.
Was she his mom too?
That would actually just make my day.
Granted, it would never top the near rape, BO-laden clothing, running about a boat in my underwear, watching fetish porn live like it was the BBC's Masterpiece Theatre but more aptly called Master My Piece, and discovering the dildo-wielding Brit was actually related to my children.
No, Servario and James being half brothers was far less likely to send me over the edge, than analyzing any of the previous hours spent on the SS Twisted Sister.
I sat on a mop bucket that was turned over and waited to be discovered. There really was nothing else to do.
Servario and Mary fought in the back room, but I couldn't hear what it was about. A pee shiver hit me. I had to go bad, bad enough that I eyed the bucket and contemplated it. Finally, in a moment of desperation for a bathroom, I opened the door to the closet and slipped out into the hallway. It was empty. I ducked low and walked to the front room with the lounge and the kitchen. No one was there either. Through the window I saw James at the front of the boat. I left the doorway, fingering the gun in the back of my pants. I needed to pee and I needed it to be over with. I was done. I would never recover from any of it.
“James!” I called out, not even caring.
He gazed over at me through the window. “Where were you? You have Servario all worked up. Come inside.”
“Where was I? How about watching your mom fuck people in the ass?”
He was clearly confused for a moment and burst into laughter. He pointed a gun on me but kept laughing. “You saw that? That’s horrifying. Evie, of all the things you’ve endured in your life, I actually feel sorry for you for that one.” He shook his head like we were talking and it was old times. “Mom and Aunt Sooky have always been a bit weird.” He scoffed. “Come out on the deck so I can strap you into a chair for Mary. She's been a real freak about you being missing.” He winked at me. “Maybe you and I can die today together. ‘Course my death will be faked. After all this nonsense, I doubt Mary will still let you go to Croatia. Not sure how she’ll convince Servario of that though. He was dead set on you ending up there.”
I walked to the front with my hands on my hips, ignoring his rambling. He really needed to do less drugs. I gave him a confused face in an attempt to distract him. “Your mom is an agent?”
He shrugged. “So is your mom, Evie. Our parents are far more than you or I ever knew.” He held his gun on me. “Your mom was the best of the best.” He sat down with a bit of difficulty without his cane. He took a deep breath, motioning toward the chair, with his gun held on me. “You killed Michele?”
“Yup.”
He gave me a look of approval. “Nice work. I always hated him. His face was too fat. It made his accent slur almost.”
I scanned the small boats and jet skis out on the water, and licked my lips nervously as I sat in the seat across from him.
“This is getting weird—awkward.”
“Yeah.” That
was an understatement.
He tapped his gun against the chair. The red rims of his eyes and the way he moved, as if not in control of himself, told me he was stoned. He smiled just like the boy I had met once. “I don’t hate you, you should know. I never hated you or the kids or anything. I just never saw it as my life. I always saw it as the job. You know? They asked me to join the military and CI and settle down with you, and I always saw it as a job.”
“Great,” I said, though I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand how he was able to turn his love of our kids off and on. Our kids adored him. They had felt loved. I had too, in a way. And yet, there he was in front of me, no qualms about not being in love with our family in any way. It made no sense. I scowled. “I get that it has always been a job to you, but you were different before. What changed you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Six months before you ‘died’ we changed. We went from sort of happy to not at all. Not even for the kids. What changed? Did the job change?”
He licked his lips nervously. “Evie, nothing chang—”
“STOP LYING TO ME! YOU OWE ME THE TRUTH! I'M ABOUT TO DIE—YOU OWE ME THE TRUTH! YOU'VE TOLD ME EVERYTHING ELSE, YOU MIGHT AS WELL TELL ME THIS!” I cut him off.
"Okay, God." James jerked back. “Freedom. It was freedom. I was finally going to be free of you all. I thought being your husband and in the CI was the job. It wasn't. I made the best of it with you and the kids, and I assumed it was how things would always be. But when it was finally time to get Servario to show us where the Burrow was, my role changed. I went deep cover as a double agent. I knew I would be killed off and done being the husband and dad.”
“How is this all possible?”
“When I was a kid, money always came to our family in the form of random deposits to our safe-deposit box. I was told I had a benefactor, a rich uncle. He paid for things and made it easier for me, but he wanted things out of me. Turned out that was my real father and I was adopted.”
“You had money all this time and you acted like we were broke, paycheck to paycheck?”
“You would have wanted to spend my money on the kids. It would’ve gone to the kids and not me. I saw the way it was. I worked hard and everything went to sports gear, and birthday presents for kids. I couldn’t imagine how it would’ve been if you’d had my millions.”
"God, I was such an idiot." I gasped.
He truly looked upset for a moment as he gave me a headshake. “It was awkward enough being with you and then we had the kids. You were always so busy and tired. I just—I wanted more. Younger and hotter—"
It happened so fast I didn’t realize I'd done it until his jaw dropped in shock and blood spread on his white shirt. He made a noise I had never heard a human being make before. It was an inward gasping sound, like he was deflating.
I gaped at the gun in my hand, my finger still on the trigger. I hated him that much? I hated him. Words left my lips in a cold tone, “You were a good actor, James. Very convincing.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. They were for him. I didn’t want to give him even a second longer in my heart, but I couldn’t stop myself. So many years of believing all the lies. I needed time to catch up and see it was all an act. Every smile, every laugh, every moment of him being charming, it was a lie.
He coughed and moaned as he slid from the chair. The red spot on his shirt spread into a strange and aggressive pattern and he died.
I watched as the last breath left his body. The last breath I needed to move on and not fear him anymore.
I barely heard the footsteps and screaming that filled the air. Hands grabbed me, hitting me and dragging me from the chair. I only realized it was Servario as I was shoved into a room and the door was closed as he left me there.
A shrill voice screamed, “I'LL KILL HER!”
I heard Servario talking, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I sat on the bed, staring down at my fingers. I had just shot—out of anger, pain, and humiliation, I had pulled the trigger. It wasn’t for my children, or to help the world or save anyone. It was entirely about my wounded pride.
I was a very bad person, that much was abundantly clear.
14
Couch cushions
The door flew open. Mary held a gun on me, shaking as she raged, “YOU STUPID SLUT!”
“Wait.” I had to stall her so she didn't shoot me before Servario could save me. “Mary, let me explain.” Where was Servario?
Spit flew from her pale lips as she screamed, “YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED MY BABY! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG AND HARD I SEARCHED FOR HIM? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LOSE A CHILD?” Then she did something I wasn’t prepared for. She slumped into the doorframe and sobbed, dropping the gun into the lap of her pale skirt. Her face was swollen and tear stained. “I gave him life and you took it away.”
“I am so sorry.”
“I will kill your son for this. I will kill him for this and then you’ll know what loss is.”
My anger level rose straightaway. “You will leave my son out of this. He's just a boy, not a spy. You gave up your child! I have loved mine since he was conceived. I have raised my son, not abandoned him to strangers.”
She sniffled, no longer crying and weak. I watched her shut her emotions off. “You know nothing.” She lifted the gun. “Get up.”
I stood from the bed, waiting for her to kill me.
Where was Servario?
I wanted to grab her gun and smash her in the face with it. I wanted her to die for threatening my child, even though I had killed hers.
Mary regained some of the composure and control she was clearly used to having as she pointed the gun at the doorway. “Let's go.”
I stepped out of the room, terrified of the gun she had in my back. I walked down the long hallway to the front of the boat where James was dead on the floor just on the other side of the wall.
“Sit.”
I sat on the couch in the living room. She sat across from me, still pointing the gun at me. “You will tell me what you know about the Master Key and the Burrow, now.”
“I know James was looking for the Master Key. I thought James assumed it was Servario, but when I went to work for Servario—”
“Whore for Servario. Don’t make it sound like work. You were whoring. Continue the story and say whore.”
I almost laughed nervously. “When I went to w-whore for Servario, he too was looking for the Master Key and threatened to kill me and my family many times if I didn’t help him find it. I realized then that James and Servario were both looking for it.” I swallowed hard. “I know the Burrow is a collection of weapons. James had paperwork at the house and I read it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He had paperwork?”
“He did. He had lists of presumed Burrow weapons and possible locations for it.”
Mary sniffed. “Why would he leave that at the house?”
“It was in a place he never imagined me looking.”
She sneered. “Where?”
“His shoe boxes of crap he brought into our marriage. Old medals and keepsakes and junk from when he was a boy,” I lied through my teeth.
She nearly lit up. “He had keepsakes?”
“Yup.”
“Well, where are they?”
“I burned them along with the papers that might have incriminated him.” I hoped that burned her a little.
She motioned to a guard standing at the entrance. He walked over and slapped me hard across the cheek. I cried out as it brought the throb back to my broken nose.
“Where are they?”
“I burned them, Mary, I swear.”
She rose to pace around the back of the couch, tapping her gun against her hand. “He had papers. He never got them from Servario, or else Servario wouldn’t have been looking for the Master Key.” She poured herself a drink at the beautiful bar in the corner. “So Servario isn’t the Key, and your father isn’t the Key, and clearly James wasn’t the Key. Who
could it be?” Her eyes darkened. “Who saved you? You were bound in a hotel, beaten and injured after the attempt on James' life. Who saved you?”
I almost bit right through my lip, trying to remember the story we had agreed on. Instead of showing her my nerves, I answered, “A man. Servario had collapsed from a drink, we figured poison but didn't know Servario wasn't really dead. A man came in and freed us all. He was older, tall, and built. He didn’t stay when the CI agents came. He had fled by then.”
She sighed. “So you have no clue who he was?"
“No,” I answered, sitting perfectly still. “After Servario double-crossed us by pretending to kill James, but really killing Roxy to tie up the loose end, he took us to Boston and forced us to the hotel. He was going to trade us to someone. We think that was when the real Master Key came and saved us. We didn't know Servario faked his own death and we didn't know he was alive until you sent Steve to trick me with the shoes and the note."
We had rehearsed it over and over but my palms were sweating.
She chewed a pickled asparagus for a moment, processing it all. She paused her thoughts and gestured to the guard. He walked to me, slapping me hard again. I cried out. My head was throbbing brutally. She came and sat across from me again. “You are of no use to me, Evie. None whatsoever. This is why I told James not to bother bringing you here. No one is coming for you and you have no information for me. Servario has tried, James has tried, and now I have tried. Your father is not coming. Fitz is not coming. Your mother is not coming.” She wriggled her lips. “I can only assume it’s one of two things: they are involved in the Burrow and can't risk saving you or they don’t care for you.” Her dark eyes grew hateful. “But I know your mother would die for you.” A devious smile crept over her lips. “Which means your mother is the Master Key. That is why she has not saved you and the same with your father. They are involved in this. They would have come for you already and they have not. It really can only mean one thing—they have something bigger to protect than their love for you.”