A Secret Service

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A Secret Service Page 13

by Joy Jenkins

When Donovan didn’t answer, Sloane touched his arm and he tensed, shying away. Carter wondered how he ever managed to get through a day without her coming to his rescue. Carter snatched a book off a shelf at random, opened it, and walked into the aisle.

  "Donovan," she said, not bothering to look up. "I think I found that reference we were looking for.”

  She raised her head and froze in pretend surprise. Sloane turned, startled, her hand in mid-air. Donovan relaxed, his annoyance fading at Carter’s appearance. With a cool, superior smile, Carter snapped the book shut and held it in both hands.

  “Are you done here?" she asked the girl. “Like I predicted, he would make no response and you would be left feeling like an idiot. Give it up and walk away.”

  All of Sloane’s composure snapped, revealing anger and humiliation. "Do you even realize how unimportant you are? You’re not worth knowing. Your own mother even tossed you aside.”

  The book clattered to the floor as Carter raised her fist and swung at Sloane, aiming for those perfect teeth. With a hard smack, Donovan blocked her blow. Sloane took a shocked step back, eyes wide. Donovan tightened his hold on Carter's fist. His calmness pulled Carter from her fiery thoughts.

  “Are you in control?” he asked.

  He held her gaze, waiting. The understanding in his blue eyes helped Carter bury her hurt and anger. Deflating, she swallowed and Donovan released his hold.

  “Just leave,” she told Sloane, her voice devoid of emotion.

  Sloane hurried away, casting a fearful glance over her shoulder at Carter. Needing to avoid Donovan’s penetrating gaze, Carter retrieved the fallen book and restored it to its rightful place.

  When she faced Donovan again, he was leaning a shoulder against the bookcase, his arms crossed. For a long moment, they stared at each other; Donovan silently interrogating her, Carter dodging his questions. He finally let the topic drop, accepting Carter’s stone wall.

  "Thank you for getting me out of that," he said.

  Carter let out a silent sigh of relief at the change of topic. “Sure. She had a determined look other girls have lacked. I figured I should step in before you were tackled to the ground."

  Donovan raised an eyebrow. "You underestimate my strength.”

  "And you underestimate the strength of a determined girl who can’t have you and is trying to restore her sense of superiority.”

  Donovan smiled but the look didn't erase the questions burning in his eyes.

  "Has it always been this bad for you?" she asked.

  "The first three years were nothing. The last three have been…challenging.”

  "How so?”

  Donovan ran a hand through his hair, dropping his calm mask to reveal weariness. “The main problem is something you probably understand: boredom.”

  "Of course," she said. "You probably haven't had an intelligent conversation in years."

  "I've talked to my brothers from time to time but yes, intellect has been in short supply."

  "Come on," Carter said, walking backward to the end of the row. "I'm sure by the time we sit down you'll come up with something that could challenge my brain. If you can.”

  Chapter 21

  As Carter walked to the living room, she slid her arms into her leather jacket. Light from the lamps illuminated the apartment. Her father sat on the couch, his arm in a sling and a computer in front of him. On the coffee table sat stacks of papers and a collection of empty plates and glasses.

  When Carter appeared, he looked up and froze. Instead of her usual home uniform of ratty shirt and sweatpants, she wore boots, skinny jeans, and a simple black v-neck t-shirt. Her loose, wavy hair hung down just below her shoulders. At her father’s reaction, she scowled and stuffed her hands into the pockets of the jacket.

  “Shut up and stop looking at me like that,” she said.

  Her father shook his head. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Your face said enough.” She held out her hands. “This is what happens when you go away and leave me with Maggie.” Carter made a face. “She takes me shopping and buys me pants without pockets.”

  “You look nice, Sarge.”

  Making another face, she waved away his comment. “When you play bodyguard, you have a black suit: that’s your uniform. When I play ‘fake date to the bodyguard’ this is my uniform.” She snatched her satchel off the hook and she took a seat on the coffee table, studying his worn-out face and tired eyes. “You alright?”

  He shifted and winced at the pain but smiled weakly. “A bit sore but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Where is it you’re going?”

  Carter shrugged. “Movies and possibly a cage fight if I can convince them.”

  “Stick to just the movies, I’m not sure I want you fighting grown men on your own.”

  “Please, like I would take them on, on my own,” she said. “Donovan would help me.”

  When her father gave her a stronger smile, Carter felt the pressure in her chest lighten.

  “I don’t have to go, you know. I can stay in and we can watch a movie or something.”

  “Maggie is going to stop by. I’ll be fine.”

  Carter gave him a sly grin. “I see. You want me out of the way so you and Maggie can have some quality time together.” Her father’s expression fell flat. “No need to look so pissy, Captain. I’ll take Maggie as a stepmother any day.”

  Frowning, her father shooed her away. “Go, before I decide to put you through a set of drills.”

  Carter kissed the top of his head. “Alright, I’m leaving.”

  A cool gust of wind entered the apartment as she stood in the doorway. “Just know,” she said, “If I come home to find you and Maggie making out on the couch, it's dishes for a week.”

  “Carter!”

  She dashed out of the door before her father could rebuke her. Overhead, a pale moon lit her way through the narrow lane to the main road. As she crossed the street to the bus stop, Maggie approached.

  “Off to your date then?” she said, gleefully.

  “Yup,” Carter said, not matching her excitement. “Should be a blast. You know how I love romantic movies with wimpy girl characters.”

  “It doesn’t matter because you’re going on a date! That’s what is important.”

  “Sure.”

  The bus pulled up to the curb and Carter jogged towards it, giving Maggie a wave.

  “Have fun!” Maggie called out as Carter climbed on.

  The doors shut and the bus took off with Maggie watching till the red tail lights disappeared.

  A bus and metro ride later Carter climbed up the concrete steps of the metro station and into a part of the city that was a stark contrast with her neighborhood. Chic cafes and overpriced restaurants lined the sidewalks. Impressive apartment buildings with gleaming glass fronts stretched into the sky. The pedestrians strolling the sidewalks wore outfits that cost more than Carter’s entire closet.

  A man in a dark green suit opened the apartment door for her as she approached and welcomed her. The decor of the lobby was minimalistic: a polished tile floor, potted plants, and a dark wooden desk at the center of the space.

  “Can I help you?” asked the concierge behind the desk.

  “I’m looking for the Evans’ residence,” she said.

  “Name?”

  “Carter Owens.”

  The man checked his computer. “9th floor, apartment 32.”

  A short ride later, Carter stepped out into a wide, silent hallway. A door opened and Donovan exited, dressed casually in converse shoes, jeans, and a black pea coat.

  “Where’s Link?” Carter asked, stopping next to him.

  When Donovan looked over, his normally impassive face was splashed with surprise.

  “Thanks for the compliment,” she said, wearing a smug grin.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Not in so many words.”

  Donovan tucked his keys away as Carter glanced around.

  “Where is Link?” she as
ked again.

  He pointed down the hall. “Next apartment over.”

  Carter frowned, puzzled, and the corner of Donovan’s mouth curled up.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t live in the same apartment. I have my own, just next door.”

  When Carter opened her mouth, Donovan laughed. “I’m twenty-two, Carter. What did you expect? I’m close enough to prevent anything from happening. Besides, I needed a different address for school purposes.”

  “Right, you just look -“

  “Like a seventeen-year-old student? That’s kind of the point.”

  Carter backed up and eyed him critically, if not slightly appreciatively as well. “It’s a good thing you normally wear a uniform because the casual look ages you.”

  “Thanks for the compliment,” he said.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Not in so many words.”

  A door down the hall opened and Link stepped out, wearing a hoodie tucked beneath a blazer and jeans. He glanced to the elevator before spotting Donovan and Carter standing together. His eyebrows shot up as he looked at Carter.

  “You look-“

  Carter cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Yes, I know. Let’s move past this revelation that I have curves.”

  Link, still slightly surprised, nodded. “Alright.”

  “We should go,” Donovan said.

  Link came out of his daze.

  “Yeah, right,” he said, “I don’t want Amy to have to wait.”

  Carter smiled. “Of course we don’t. Let’s get this date over with.”

  Donovan smirked. “Don’t sound too excited, Carter.”

  She shot him a flat look that he returned with a half-smile.

  ◆◆◆

  The lights in the theater brightened as the credits filled the widescreen. Carter rested her head on her fingertips as she stared at the list of names with a look of wide-eyed disbelief. Amy’s light laugh reached her from down the row where she sat beside Link. They stood and Donovan nudged Carter’s arm. She blinked herself out of her shocked daze and followed Donovan out of their row. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, she took a spot by his side.

  “Is it just me,” she said, “or do you feel you lost brain cells watching that poor display of acting? Not to mention the fact that the storyline was so convoluted they forgot to mention how the girl’s mother survived the car crash!”

  Shaking his head, Donovan ran a hand through his hair. “I’m still trying to understand why the girl went to the father’s house. It was a tactical nightmare and an easy spot to get ambushed.”

  She gestured emphatically to him. “Yes! There was no thought put into her plan of action and she walked blindly into a situation she knew was already dangerous. Especially considering the history of the father’s abuse on his son.”

  “Also, there was the fact that she was unarmed and had avoided announcing her intentions to a superior.”

  “It’s as if she was under the impression that good intentions would protect her. Completely delusional thinking. Which would also explain why she believed she could reform a delinquent with a serious drinking problem.”

  They pushed through the theater doors, right behind Link and Amy. The smell of popcorn and melted cheese wafted across the main lobby. Lines of customers snaked their way towards ticket windows and concession stands.

  “So,” Amy said. “Not the best movie. But still fun, right?”

  Donovan and Carter shared a glance, neither expression revealing their thoughts.

  “What did you think,” Amy asked, lacing her hand with Link’s.

  Thoughts aligned, Carter and Donovan reacted: Carter stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket while Donovan hid his away in his jeans. Link straightened, a pleased grin coming to his lips.

  “I thought it was great,” he said.

  Amy tightened her hold on Link’s hand, lost in each other for a long moment. Carter looked at Donovan, barely containing her smile. He looked back with a placid face, a smirk only shown in the twitching of his lips. Carter coughed and the couple seemed to return to themselves.

  “So…” she said.

  “How about fro-yo?” Amy said, eagerly.

  Carter opened her mouth, the objection already between her teeth when Link made eye contact with her. A silent urge to agree was hiding in his hazel eyes.

  “Sure, why not?” Carter said.

  Amy rose to the tips of her toes, giddy. Carter gave Donovan a look that expressed all of her opinions and which got her a grin in response.

  They left the theater, entering the crowded sidewalk. Music spilled out of a bar’s open windows, trailed by laughter and conversations. Link and Amy took the lead, their hands still clasped and Amy’s bright voice keeping up a steady stream. As they walked, Donovan’s relaxed manner dropped away. He surveyed the surrounding crowd with a calculating, intelligent gaze, sizing up those around them.

  “Is it just me or did Amy seem more stable during school?” Carter asked, in a lowered voice.

  “Being out of the limits of school and under the effects of a romantic movie will change a person,” he said. “Especially a girl who is already giving in to her hormones. Add the attention of a boy and physical contact and she may as well be a whole different person.”

  “So you’re saying if you held my hand it would have the same effect on me?”

  “No,” he said. “You’re ruled by logic and have a natural barrier against letting others get close to you. You would mask the feelings the contact would create.”

  The observation struck a chord in Carter but she ignored it. “Pretty sure of that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Donovan said. He broke from his scan of the surrounding crowd to look at her, searching. “Why you’re this way I haven’t completely figured out but the main source is your mother and her betrayal.”

  Ice crawled into Carter’s chest. “I would stop yourself, Donovan,” she said, in a detached voice, “before you say anything that I will make you regret.”

  Donovan met her threat unfazed.“My conclusions are well founded, then.”

  Carter clenched her fists, memories pressing against the barriers in her mind. “I said stop. Now.”

  Carter didn’t remember when they had stopped walking but they stood in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at each other, their breath making small clouds before them. Donovan narrowed his eyes.

  “What are you afraid of, Carter?” he said, in a low, ponderous voice. “Being hurt? Or letting someone else in?”

  Carter barely raised her fist before Donovan wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stilling her strike. She seethed.

  “Carter, Donovan!” Link shouted back to them.

  The tension cracked. Amy and Link watched them, Link wearing a puzzled expression while Amy tried to conceal a mischievous grin at the closeness of the two. Donovan let go of Carter’s wrist and the rest of the tension was swept away with the passing crowd. Carter joined Link and Amy, her face devoid of emotion.

  “You guys alright?” Link asked, his gaze flickering between her and Donovan.

  “Fine,” Carter said, cooly. “Let’s go get fro-yo.”

  Amy took the lead again while Carter followed, never sparing a glance at Donovan.

  His questions beat against her long after the group split ways, his voice running over and over in her mind as she headed towards home.

  The temperature had dropped and Carter balled her fists inside her pockets, glaring at the ground. A burst of laughter caused her to look up, catching a glimpse of a family crowded around a kitchen table. The sound faded away as she entered the lane.

  The unfamiliar car didn’t register with her as she ascended the staircase. Muffled voices emanated from inside. Pushing aside Donovan’s voice, Carter unlocked the front door and pushed it open.

  “Captain, I’m home,” she said. “You can call off the drone-“

  The end of her sentence was caught in her throat as she faced the
apartment. Across from her father at the kitchen table sat a woman, in her late thirties with styled, dyed blonde hair, a narrow face, and curvy frame. Carter stared at the scene, every inch of her frozen with shock. The woman stood.

  “Hello, Carter,” her mother said.

  Carter dug her nails into her palms. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

  Chapter 22

  Sarge," Carter's father said.

  Carter shot him a fierce look.

  "I'm serious!" she said, anger and pain laced in every syllable. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

  Her mother took a step forward but Carter's icy glare halted her in her tracks. Her mother glanced back at Carter's father. "I was in the city and I wanted to -"

  "Get out," Carter snarled.

  Her mother widened her eyes, stunned. Carter felt something inside her snap. Hand shaking, she pointed to the door. "Get. The. Hell. Out."

  Her father rose, one hand on the table for support. “Sarge, you have no right-"

  "I have every right!" she yelled.

  She could see the burden in his eyes and turned her cold, unyielding stare on to her mother. "Leave. Now."

  With a nod from Carter’s father, her mother gathered up her purse. Carter felt hard as stone as her mother brushed past her. The scent of perfume lingered in her wake. A scent Carter grew up with. A scent clinging to millions of memories, good and bad. As the door had closed, tense silence landed in the apartment.

  "Sarge-"

  "No!" Carter burst out, switching her glare from the wall to her father. "Why did you ever let her in?”

  Her father raised a hand, trying to calm her anger. “Carter you don’t understand…”

  “How could you possibly be sitting here with her after everything she has done?"

  "Carter," he said, tiredly. "I know this is confusing-"

  "Confusing! That Thing destroyed our family!”

  Her father hardened, shoulders tightening, the weariness burned away. Carter knew she had taken a step too far. But so had he.

  "Despite everything, she is your mother," he said, his voice controlled, "and you will not talk about her like that."

 

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