A Dangerous Man

by Rachel Cade

  “Yeah. He knew for sure one day the whole world would fall apart. He wanted me to be prepared.”

  Ciara didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t sure how to unpack that. She imagined Jack as a little boy in the South, being taught how to kill people while she was playing with dolls.

  “What happened to him?” she asked, unable to help herself.

  “My old man?” he asked, shrugging. “Haven’t seen him in a while.”

  All she could think about were his scars.

  “What about your mom?”

  “She passed havin’ me.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said after a time.

  “’Bout what?” He took another swig from his glass. “I better go get my stuff together.” Jack excused himself and went upstairs.

  She didn’t know what to say. It seemed in the moment, she cared more about his life than he did.

  *

  Ciara decided to start her night routine early and removed all her makeup before donning a white silk nightgown and robe. Normally she would have been in a club with Kim, getting drinks bought for her by the richest men in the room while she danced and ignored them all night.

  But she had no energy for it.

  She used a hair clip to pull her hair back from her face.

  While sitting at her vanity, she eyed her bare faced reflection from one side to the other, then tapped her fingers against the glass table a couple of times before seeking out Jack.

  “Can I just do like a rapid fire and you can nod once if I’m right?”

  He was in the guestroom zipping up his duffle bag when he looked up at her. His white shirt was tossed on the bed and she could see a thin bloodstain on the bandage covering his ribs.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, coming into the room.

  “For what? And rapid fire about what?” She pointed at his chest while walking toward the basket of first aid supplies on the nightstand.

  “I need to change your bandage before you go and check the wound. Devin had to work fast because of your bleeding. Can you sit down, please?”

  “It-” he started to protest, then took a deep breath. To her surprise, he sat down on the foot of the bed.

  “Thanks,” she said softly.

  Was this a good idea? Probably not. She should have stayed in her bedroom and let him leave without a word as he probably planned.

  “Ok. Let’s see if I can do this on my own without making more damage,” she started, pulling scissors out of the basket.

  “That’s reassurin’.” Jack glanced at her.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m hanging up my stethoscope after this.”

  It was different touching him with Devin, when she thought the man was going to die in her house. Now she was too aware of him, and how different he was from any other man she’d been around. He was sitting there quietly, letting her place the gauze. And she was noting every intake of his breath, as her fingertips to skim over his skin.

  “This is such a bad gash you have to keep it covered up for a while. It’s probably going to leave a scar.” She hadn’t realized what she said until it was too late.

  “I’m used to it.”

  His phone rang. “Shit.”

  Both of them seemed a little startled.

  “Ok, that’s my guy. He’s got an Uber coming for me. I figured I could pass off as one of your photographer friends if anyone gets curious.”

  “Sure. I’ll let security know to let them in.”

  Ciara knew it was inevitable, but this was all happening too fast.

  The next thing she knew, the car was outside her carriage house and she was walking Jack to her front door.

  “Thanks for patchin’ me up,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Stick with the modelin’ thing; you’re good at it.”

  That made her smile.

  It was the last time she’d ever see him, so she closed their space, giving him a hug.

  She wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed the side of her face against his chest. She made sure not to hold him too tight so she didn’t irritate his wound.

  “Take care of yourself,” she said.

  He smelled like her soap and she hated noticing it. There was a physical awkwardness in hugging him, due to his height and the fact that he wasn’t returning it. But she couldn’t just let him walk out of the door.

  Pulling away, she smiled up at him.

  He was staring down at her with his usual hard expression, but his eyes narrowed on her briefly.

  It made her want to apologize, but she rejected it. A hug was one thing she knew wouldn’t kill him.

  Jack opened the front door and was about to leave when he stopped in the threshold.

  Turning, he rummaged through his bag until he found a small pad and half a pencil.

  “Look,” he began as he scribbled, “if you ever need to reach me.”

  Jack ripped the paper off the small pad and handed it to her.

  Ciara accepted the paper. “Okay,” she said quietly.

  He nodded once. And then he was gone, shutting the door behind himself.

  She was going to have to let all this go soon. Worrying about what he was about to get himself into was a waste of time. She should be worried about herself and thankful she was still breathing.

  Jack could take care of himself.

  Chapter Seven:

  Jack of all Trades

  “You look like hammered shit.”

  Sam was never one told hold his tongue. He was an asshole, but every time Jack needed him, he was there. There weren’t too many people he could say that about. They’d known each other for about fifteen years and had seen about two lifetimes of bullshit together.

  “You got fat,” Jack pointed out, staring down at his beer belly. The 6’3” Brazilian black belt could more than likely still kick three guys’ asses at the same time, which Jack had actually witnessed once in a bar in Tijuana.

  Sam slowly shook his head. “Still a dick. Get in the car.”

  An actual damn beer.

  Cold and crisp, it was a healing elixir splashing against his tongue before he swallowed. Hopefully at this point, most of the pain pills were out of his system. This was the only medication he needed.

  The bar wasn’t too crowded since they were in some small town almost touching Pennsylvania.

  “So these pricks showed up at your place and came close to killing you. Been there, done that. But what’s up with the ‘I wasn’t alone’ part?”

  Jack took another long swig of beer. They’d ordered some burgers and his stomach was churning for some beef. “I knew this was coming.”

  “Of course you did. Now tell me, was the coyote respectful? Did you get dinner first?”

  “You know what, fuck you,” Jack said over Sam’s chuckling.

  “Seriously though, man, what the hell happened?”

  “A girl showed up at my place because her car broke down.” As each word spilled from his lips, he became more aware of how ridiculous it sounded.

  “A girl showed up out of nowhere to that Blair Witch spot you got goin’ on?”

  “Again, fuck you, and yes.”

  “And she was still there when these guys showed up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So do you think she had something to do with it?”

  “No. There’s no way.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head, reaching in front of him to grab a handful of peanuts before popping some in his mouth. “It might have crossed my mind, except they didn’t know about her. Neither of us almost made it out of there. And she’s the one that saved my ass. I could have bled out.”

  “Jack, this is bullshit. You haven’t been active in over a year. How in the hell did those guys find you?”

  “Only one person I can think of.”

  Ciara closed her eyes as she received her facial massage. It was a relief to be in her routine
again and she planned on pampering herself all day. There was a deep tissue massage coming next, then on to hair. Absolutely no photographers were coming near her today. She probably wasn’t even going to take a selfie.

  “I’m late,” Kim said as she entered, but Ciara didn’t open her eyes.

  “That’s to be expected. How did your case go?”

  “They adjourned until tomorrow. And I’m glad.”

  “And I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Girl, sometimes I don’t either. We need to go out for drinks.”

  “Absolutely, but I have to pull myself together first.”

  “I thought you were nursing the huntsman. Did you decide to take some time for yourself?”

  “He’s gone. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Jeez, did he die?”

  “Kim!” Ciara opened one eye.

  “Sorry. But we have to talk about it eventually because I’m your best friend and you have to share important things that happen in your life with me.”

  “He didn’t die. He just didn’t listen to me and left.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I asked him to stay, but he’s an ox, so he left last night.”

  “You definitely aren’t used to that.”

  “No,” Ciara admitted while a three-hundred-dollar cream was massaged into her face.

  “So, that’s it then?” Kim asked. “That’s the end of the story?”

  “What else is there?” Ciara sighed a bit. “I don’t know who he was or if he even told me his real name.”

  “Jeez,” Kim repeated. “I know a guy that could do a sketch for you. We could check it against the police database.”

  “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

  “Umm, to find out who he was. You could have saved the life of a career criminal. What do you think a guy like that would be into? Armed robbery maybe? The sophisticated kind though; not like liquor stores or anything.”

  “I know, right? Let him not be a tacky criminal.” She heard Cherish giggle a little bit above her as she finished applying the cream.

  She decided to keep it to herself that he’d left his number with her. Well, it was probably a number. He likely had more than one. He was still so much of a puzzle to her and she hated Kim for bringing him up. Ciara didn’t want him occupying any more space in her mind.

  Not because she didn’t care, but because it was over. It was pointless for her to keep wracking her mind about who he was. Or about how close she’d come close to dying by just being in his presence for twenty-four hours.

  Jack looked at the remote surveillance on his place, clean as whistle. They’d managed to remove the bodies and no police had shown up. They even managed to get the second guy out of the bear trap without setting anything else off. He was a little impressed. But he hadn’t really used all his tricks to protect the property, just some basics.

  He already missed the quiet.

  It angered him to no end that he’d carved out a space for peace from the world and someone had to invade it anyway. Looking for money? He snickered.

  Yeah. Only one person would think he was that stupid.

  “You ready, man?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Jack shut down the feed and followed his friend through the warehouse.

  Sam punched in a code and one of the wooden doors manually slid back to reveal a modern room that was a candy land of violence. Guns from Glocks to AR-15s lined both sides of the walls. Knives, grenades, and live ammo were on display in flat cases from one end of the room to the other.

  “You’re getting soft on your old age, Sam,” Jack said as he entered the room. “No rocket launchers?”

  Sam waved his hand. “A man can change, Jack. Isn’t that what you told me when you walked away from all this?”

  “I didn’t walk away. I took a break.”

  “Really? Falling off the face of the Earth is a break?”

  “For me it is.”

  “I get that Mexico got a little out of hand but –”

  Jack closed his eyes.

  “We’re mercs,” Sam continued. “We work for money. And most of the time our temporary bosses are crazy as fuck. The only thing we can do is make sure we get the job done and get our asses home.”

  Jack looked down at a hunting knife that was similar to one he’d grown up with. Sam admired it for the same reason he did: the Rambo high.

  His childhood had been akin to basic training. He’d never been in the actual military because his dad had given him all the training he ever needed. Jack carried plenty of welts and scars from those trainings, which went on all the way until he was nineteen. Then he “graduated”, according to his old man.

  “Are you ready for all this again?” Sam asked quietly. “You could always stay out of it. Find someone willing to put up with your shit and spit out a couple kids.”

  Jack’s face scrunched.

  “Heal up quick, alright?” Sam motioned for them to leave the room. “I need Crazy Jack back.”

  A Month Later

  “You look lovely tonight.” Marcus kissed Ciara’s cheek gently as she found him waiting in the quiet restaurant.

  This was their third date, but the first where they’d had dinner. The first was makeup brunch and the second was when he’d bumped into her while leaving the spa.

  He was in a great suit, black, tailored, with a crisp shirt that had one button undone at the neck. Ciara had to give him a point for that. He’d gotten them a corner window table at Sorrelli’s. Despite only being around two years old, the restaurant had a notorious six-month waiting list.

  Ciara never noticed things like that, but friends and other dates often mentioned it. The ambiance was quaint and intimate, and the position of their table offered them some privacy from the other diners. If the food was excellent, she’d have to give him another silent point.

  “Thank you,” she answered as he pulled out her chair for her before seating himself.

  “Finally. We made it to dinner.” The waiter introduced himself before offering them menus and a wine list.

  “Can I order for you?” Marcus asked.

  “Of course.” Ciara smiled. She didn’t care for it but watched silently as Marcus ordered their dinner and wine in perfect Italian. She’d been tutored in it and French in her teens, but never kept up with either one, to her parents’ annoyance. But she did catch some of his words.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “It’s my first time,” he admitted. “But I love Italian cuisine. What about you?”

  “I don’t eat out much. Our chef has kind of spoiled my palette. But I’m looking forward to trying something new.”

  Marcus listened intently. “New is always welcome.”

  *

  “This was a nice night.” Ciara said as his driver pulled around to the front door of the main home. And she was being totally honest. Marcus was a good conversationalist and had some pretty interesting stories about interning in the music industry. Ciara loved mess and the fact that he confirmed a few things about some popular artists had really made her night.

  But was she into him? That was the real question. And she wasn’t sure yet.

  “Hopefully we can arrange to see each other again,” he began. “I’m going to be pretty busy the next few weeks, but I do want to see you.”

  “That sounds good. We should stay in touch.”

  “I can do you one better. I’m having a house built in Nassau. It’s almost finished. Why don’t you let me fly you down next month for the weekend? At your discretion, of course. If it’s too forward, I understand.”

  Ciara stared at him for a moment. “Nassau, hmm?”

  Marcus chuckled a bit. “Yes.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. But I’ll get back to you.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  The driver opened the door for her.

  “Goodnight, Marcus.”

  Before she turned to slid
e her legs out of the car, he kissed her hand gently. “Goodnight.”

  Ciara smiled and left the car.

  He had a genuine charm and didn’t come across as too into himself. Those were pluses he could get a couple more points for.

  The driver didn’t pull off until she was in the house.

  The first thing she did was begin to pull off her shoes. She loved them like new puppies, but they were murder on her toes.

  The sight of her dad startled her.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Dad, are you kidding me right now?”

  Her father was in his pajamas and robe and should have been somewhere sleeping.

  Relief calmed her features when her bare feet hit the flat surface of the floor. “Why don’t we get a glass of wine and paint each other’s toenails and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Ha. So, so hilarious.”

  “Your friend just asked me to go to Nassau with him next month.” Was it any of his business? No. But she knew Marcus would probably get a talking to soon and that would be the end of his texts on her phone.

  “Go,” her dad said.

  “Excuse me?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.

  “Go. I want you to go.” And he turned and walked away, presumably to bed.

  When her father walked away, it meant there was nothing left for discussion. This leaned more toward her teenage years and when she’d gotten into a few bouts of trouble in her early twenties. She thought they’d moved past all that.

  Ciara stood in the foyer in complete silence.

  *

  The bullet splintered the paper right at the head.

  One shot.

  It made Jack feel better as he lowered the gun at the private shooting range. His side was still a little sore, but he ignored it, like he did all the other times when he was in pain.

  Twenty-nine days had gone by since he’d had to leave his home and all of it had pushed him out of his comfort zone. It made him rethink whether he was capable of finding peace. Maybe a life like that just wasn’t in the cards for him. Despite what he’d told Sam, he hadn’t been sure if he was taking a break or if he’d really been done.