by Kara Hart
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah. He thinks this place is just for storage. I haven’t told anyone about my art. It makes it more special. That way it’s mine,” he says, running his hand over a metal sculpture that looks eerily similar to himself. “Now it’s yours. Well, both of ours.”
“I’m honored.” I smile, wide-eyed and excited. So the man signed up to go to war in Afghanistan, reads all the books he can get his hands on, and makes elaborate sculptures? It’s completely mind blowing and I can’t help but love his complexity. Ew. Did I say love? I definitely didn’t mean to say love.
“This one is my favorite,” he interrupts my crazy train of thought to show me a giant buffalo. It’s the most eye-catching piece in the room. It’s massive. “It’s simple, but it brings me to this mythical zone of what America is to me. The buffalo. When that animal died out, so did an era of real peace. It probably sounds corny, but that’s why I made it. To find real peace for myself.”
“It’s not corny at all,” I say. I quickly realize just how important this place is to him. Every inch is carefully designed to bring meaning to his life. “You’ve really thought all this through.”
“Yeah, well. Life’s too important. If the war taught me anything, it’s that,” he says as he walks toward the back of the shed. In the corner is the welding booth. “Why don’t you try it? It’s pretty relaxing once you get the hang of it.”
“Me? I don’t think I’d be any good,” I protest. But, of course, he’s already getting everything ready for me. He turns on the power, grabs a piece of sheet metal, and puts on a face protector. He hands me one too, complete with a set of heavy-duty gloves. “Alright, fine.”
He sits me down in front of him, and with his hands, he shows me what to do. “See this rod? It’s hot as hell. Don’t touch it. You place the rod against the area you want to heat up. You’re molding the pieces to fit perfectly together. Here, watch me.”
He takes the rod looking thing and places it against the metal. Sparks shoot up around us and I jump back. “Careful now,” he whispers. The metal starts to melt. He creates a pool of lava-looking silver and creates shapes that stick objects together. Before I know it, he’s molding a circular piece of metal onto a square piece, creating an abstract shape.
“Here. Your turn,” he says, handing me the rod. I’m shaking, but extremely curious. I can feel his chest up against my back and his arms around my waist. “Just be natural with it. There’s no pressure. Be free.”
Before I know it, I’m welding. I’m actually doing it. Sparks are shooting against the air and I’m slowly putting together a piece of… well, it looks interesting at least. Although, I have no idea what it is when I finish with it.
“Beautiful!” He claps his hands. “It’ll go right on the wall in the living room.”
“Oh, God,” I laugh. He turns the power supply off and I take off my protective helmet. “Thanks for showing me that, though. I, uh, hate to admit this. But I think I love picking your brain apart.”
“Did you just use the word love?” he asks me. His smile is egging me on.
“I think I spoke too soon,” I laugh. “Now I’m annoyed.”
“Sounds about right,” he says as we walk outside. The air is cool and the day is waning. In a few hours it’ll start to get dark. “So. How ‘bout that dinner?” he asks me.
“I want two lobsters to myself. Extra butter. Oh, and cheesecake for dessert,” I exclaim, jumping onto his couch.
“Your wish is my command,” he says. “Anything for the princess.”
I grimace at him, but it’s sweet how willing he is to go above and beyond for me. No man has ever tried to go above and beyond for me before. Sure, they might make a reservation at a nice restaurant every now and then. Or maybe they’d buy me a dress for my birthday. But Colt is different from those people. He lives for the unique life experiences, those moments that you’re forced to remember. And he works with his hands. Yes, he works very well with his hands.
109
Colt
I’m still not sure any of this is real. I’m convinced I died back in Kabul and this is just some abstract death-process where at the end of our date, I’ll come to and realize I’ve been dead for years. The past few days have been going so well that I have to stop myself every now and then, close my eyes, and savor the moment. Things don’t generally last forever and I don’t expect her to stick around my weird wilderness lifestyle either. I just want this moment. This one moment where everything feels perfect.
After dinner, she falls into my arms again. She’s smiling and clutching me, kissing every muscle on my body. We fuck and fuck some more, falling into each other in every single position imaginable. And then we fall asleep, spooning each other until we’re both dreaming.
The next morning, however, is different. There’s a weird weight to it once we realize what needs to be done. Elijah.
“Look,” I begin telling her, “I’ll handle this with Bowen. You don’t need to be involved in anything illegal.”
“No. I want to go with you,” she says.
“If anything happens, it’s a big offense,” I start. “You’ll lose your whole career. You could get jail time for trespassing. As for me, I don’t have shit to lose. And the only thing worthwhile in this life is, well, you.”
“Colt…” she sighs. “Are you sure?”
“Completely. Go spend the day with Julie. You probably need to anyway.”
She groans loudly at those words. “Ugh. You’re probably right. I can only imagine what she’s getting into without me there.” She rolls over and grabs her clothes. Her hair is unkempt and totally sexy. I have half a mind to take her right here, for the thirtieth time.
“Call me right after. I hate to think of you in trouble.” She blushes when she says this and I feel my stomach turn into knots of regret. I wish I could just handle Elijah like normal people. I wish we could just brawl it out and end it right then and there. But that’s not how this guy operates. If I was to throw a punch at him, he’d leak the whole story. He’d destroy what Lena and I had begun.
She hands me a set of keys and says “Be careful. If security sees you go into his office, they’ll call the cops immediately. I’ll write down the alarm code so you don’t forget it. Remember to be fast.”
Bowen is ready for the job before I even ask him. It’s as if he’s been waiting for another mission ever since he came back from Kabul. “You kidding me? Let’s fucking do this.”
I, on the other hand, hate the idea of sneaking into the local paper’s office just to cover my ass. Part of me actually wants the damn story to leak. I just don’t want Elijah to be the one who does it, and I sure as hell don’t want to end up in trial because of it.
The night is pitch black and the stars are covered with dark clouds. It’s the perfect night and we’ve got everything we need. Night vision goggles. Check. Military grade gloves. Check. Full camo. Check. That’s Bowen’s idea. I think it’s pretty cheesy to break into a building wearing camouflage, but to each his own.
“You really think he’s in contact with Akron?” I ask him, as we duck behind a bush in front of the building.
“Hell if I know,” he says. “To be honest, I always thought he was dead.”
“I know what you mean. It’s like he disappeared after the night. No, maybe disappeared isn’t the right word…” I sigh, pulling on my goggles.
“It’s like he never even existed. I’ve read the reports from that night. I’ve seen the damn broadcasts,” he frantically whispers, “Akron isn’t mentioned once. It’s weird, but they paid us all that money to shut the fuck up, so I never said a word. I guess we’ll get to the bottom of it tonight.”
I give him a fist bump and say “Cheers to that, brother. You ready to do this?” The guard walks around the corner and our path to get in the building isn’t going to get any clearer.
Bowen gives me a solid look and nods. “Let’s go,” he says. “In and out.”
We run to the front
, jam the key into the lock and jump inside. The alarm is silent, but we disable it before the cops are alerted.
From the inside, I can see the security guard outside texting on his cell phone, laughing loudly to himself. He has absolutely no idea we’re inside the building. I begin to feel a sense of relief.
“Alright,” I whisper, “we grab the files and go. Quickly now.”
We move throughout the building, passing the square cubicles, until we come face to face with a door that says “Elijah Wilkinson.” This is it. We push open the door and find a desk, computer, and a few drawers. We nod to each other and begin the hunt.
Soon enough, we find everything we need, on the computer and off. There’s information on our mission, on everyone. That is, everyone except for Akron. “I thought he went to Akron,” Bowen says, confused. “But there’s nothing here about him.
“Give me that,” I whisper. I look through the documents. There’s nothing. Elijah’s open email browser says nothing either. “What the hell? He’s got no inside source. Nothing. Just a bunch of information he put together himself. Shit!”
“Look up on the top of this sheet, right here.” Bowen suddenly says. “He’s grasping at straws, but he’s also stealing from Lena. This is all from Lena’s desk. He’s going through her shit to build his story. What exactly did you tell her? He’s relying on what you’ve been telling Lena.”
I say “I haven’t told her anything you can’t find somewhere else. You know, just basic facts about the war, about how we felt after coming back home. Elijah thought too much of her and too little of me. He’s got nothing.” I put the documents back in his desk. “Come on. Let’s leave the documents. They tell us nothing. We have to tell Lena what’s up and go from there.”
“Shit. I really thought we’d find something substantial,” Bowen laughs. “Well, it was fun breaking in, I guess.”
I sigh, wipe the sweat off my forehead, and finish putting the documents away. We tidy up the room, make it look how it did before we entered, and head out of the building. Exiting is even easier than entering, and within the hour we’re back at my cabin.
110
Lena
He’s smiling big the next time I see him. “We got him,” he says. “It’s over.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “What happened?”
Colt speaks up, “Most of the documents he had were from your desk. He stole from you, Lena. Now all you need to do is tell your boss.”
My stomach sinks when I hear this. “He stole my work?” I mutter. I know Elijah is a scumbag, but I didn’t think he’d actually steal from me.
Bowen grabs a glass of water and says, “I’m going to head home. If she wakes up anytime soon, the wife is going to be wondering where I am.”
I do my best to thank him and watch as he leaves the cabin. It’s just Colt and me now and I feel pretty relieved. He turns to me and says “Yeah. The files had your name on it. What’s worse, he didn’t even have a legitimate source. No Akron, no nothing,” he laughs to himself. “All that work breaking in for nothing.”
“It’s all over?” I ask, falling across his bed. Those warm, familiar sheets give me a feeling of comfort like no other. I close my eyes and wish this all could just end now. “For good?”
“It’s all over,” he laughs. I bring my lips to his and feel a new sense of relief rush over my body. “And now I can have you all to myself again.”
The next day, however, is something else entirely. Colt promises to wait for me in the parking lot, as I walk into the building, ready to turn Elijah in. As soon as I storm inside, Elijah knows something is wrong.
“Peter!” I yell. “I need to talk to you.” I stalk into his office and shut the door. Elijah, of course, slams the door open and joins us.
“Can I help you two?” Peter asks, looking flabbergasted.
I stay standing, speaking as fast as I can. I’m completely out of breath. “Look, I know I quit and made a big scene. But it’s only because I was in shock. I have to tell you something important.”
Elijah looks worried. He’s biting his nails and standing near the door. “What exactly is on your mind, Lena?” Peter asks me.
“She’s lying, Peter,” Elijah blurts out. “Whatever it is she has to tell you isn’t the truth.”
Peter takes off his glasses and stares at both of us. “Elijah, give the lady a chance to speak. Will you? I’m getting tired of the outbursts.”
I’m freaking out. My heart beats against my ribcage like it wants to escape and I feel like I’m about to explode. I tell him everything. “He stole my stuff. Check his drawer. There’s all the information I gathered from my sources, in addition to other documents I’ve collected over the past quarter.”
Peter stands up and glares at Elijah. “Is this true, Elijah? Did you steal from her?”
He actually tries to defend himself. I’m at my wits end when he says “No, Peter. Everything I’ve collected has been on my own time. I would never think to take anything from her. To be honest, I view her work as… subpar.”
“Subpar? Peter, just go into his desk. Check it out for yourself if you have to,” I say.
“Fine,” he says, standing up. “I will. Elijah, if you’d please move out of the way. It’s time to get to the bottom of this.”
Elijah’s face contorts in the same fashion as it did the night I caught him with my sister. “No,” he simply says, blocking the door. “I won’t let you ruin everything I’ve built.”
I feel my face grow flush with anger. “You built? You didn’t build anything, dammit! You stole my work. Do you realize how unethical that is?”
“Peter walks toward Elijah and faces him. He says “If you don’t get out of the way, I’ll fire you right now. It’s up to you what you want to do, but you can’t keep me in my own office forever.”
Elijah is sweating. He knows it’s over. And like a man who’s been caught doing the unthinkable, he decides to end it right here. But, not without a grand display. “No!” He shoves Peter into his desk and flees, as papers fly up into the air.
“Elijah! Stop!” I scream. The whole office just stands there. “What’re you looking at? Get him! He attacked Peter.” Still, no one moves. “Fuck. Do I have to do everything around here?”
I chase after him, until we’re darting downstairs. As soon as he’s out into the parking lot, Colt welcomes him with open arms. Oh, and a fist in the face.
He falls to the ground and groans loudly, screaming “You fucking bitch!” over and over again.
“You want a broken jaw too?” Colt asks him, holding him against the asphalt. “Go ahead, call the woman a bitch again. I dare you.”
“You got him!” I exclaim, running over. “My hero,” I laugh, but I feel dizzy from running. I reach out my hand to grab ahold of Colt, but only feel my hand cut through the air. “Shit…” I whisper.
Colt turns around and I hear him yell, “Lena? What's wrong?”
There's no time to respond. I feel myself faint and black out before I hit the ground.
111
Lena
When I wake up, everyone is sitting around me. Great. Another hospital bed. “Colt?” I ask, my voice groggy and dry.
He's asleep, but as soon as he hears my voice, he's awake again. “We have to stop meeting up like this,” he laughs.
“What the hell happened?” I ask. I lean forward on the hospital bed and begin ripping off each cable that's connected to my body. The machines start going haywire, beeping like crazy.
“Whoa there,” Colt says, easing me back down. “You're okay. I'm here.”
“What happened?” I repeat myself, feeling incredibly disoriented and confused. “The last thing I remember is you tackling Elijah.” The image of Elijah falling to the asphalt suddenly makes me crack up.
“Yeah, you won't be seeing him around here anymore,” Colt says.
The same doctor as last time walks into the room, tapping her pen on her notepad. “Lena Skye?” She looks at me. “Wha
t happened the last time you were here? I came back in the room and you were gone.” A faint, knowing smile creeps into her face.
I look over at Colt, who simply chuckles, and then back at the doctor. “Sorry about the other day,” I say. “I, uh, guess I was just in a big hurry to get back home.”
She smiles and says “Well, it’s your choice. We don't hold people here against their will. Although, I did have some news that might've prevented this little accident today.”
I feel my stomach drop. “News?” Oh, God. My mind starts racing, in an attempt at figuring out what “news” she could have had for me. Is it tuberculosis? Or even worse, cancer? It can't be. I haven't had any symptoms until today. “Am I… Am I going to die?” The thought is paralyzing.
“Die?” she asks. Colt looks worried, but the doctor quickly laughs off any preconceived notions of death. “No, you’re not dying. Actually, it’s the opposite. You’re pregnant.” She says the news like it’s normal, as if this happens to people every day. Okay, it does happen to people every day. But that doesn’t mean it should happen to me. I feel… well, I feel like I’m about to throw up.
I actually do. I do throw up, right onto the doctor’s little clipboard. Take that. Stupid news. “Whoops,” she says, “there’s that morning sickness. Right on time.”
“Could you be a little more nonchalant about all of this?” I ask her, wiping the spit from my face. Despite the news, Colt is looking happy. It’s like he’s excited to hear that I’m pregnant.
“Well, most people take the news a little differently,” she says. Oh, shut it! I can’t help but roll my eyes. “But you don’t look too happy. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to leave you with my card. I know a good OBGYN who can take care of you, whatever your needs may be. When I come back, you’ll most likely be gone again, but feel free to call me any time.”