by Rye Hart
“Seems like you didn’t get the hint.”
“You think Cindy would enjoy it if she knew how you were talking to her friends?” I asked.
“You’re not friends. I see the way you look at her. And she’s been through too much to get run through the ringer by a bad boy like you.”
“Got your feelings hurt because I look good in leather?” I asked.
“That woman was my best friend’s wife. I was there when he hit the tarmac. I was the one planning the funeral when she couldn't function. I was the one cleaning up that house of hers when she decided to finally move back.”
“Forgive me if I don’t applaud you for your efforts. It doesn’t mean she owes you a goddamn thing.”
“If anyone’s going to look out for her and her little girl, it’s gonna be me,” he said.
“Pretty sure all you’re doing is making her uncomfortable.”
“And if you weren’t around, I wouldn't have to do that to make sure she’s safe.”
“She’s not your property or your responsibility. Cindy can take care of herself.”
“Like she could when Lily was shipped off to Bradley’s parents because she couldn't even take the time to clean herself up?”
“You have no idea the kind of pain Cindy has been through,” I said. “So choose your next words very carefully.”
“I’m the one who holds her up,” he said. “And if anyone’s going to be with her, it’s going to be me.”
“What?” I asked.
“Hey, guys,” Cindy said.
“Hey there,” Paul said with a smile. “Find the bathroom okay?”
“Yep. And the shaved ice stand.”
I looked down at Lily who was covered in red and blue.
“It’s yummy,” Lily said.
“Have you guys been down to that end? There are some wonderful jazz ensembles down that way. I could show you if you’d like,” Paul said.
“Actually, we were just leaving,” Cindy said as she looked at me. “Right, Graham?”
Paul’s eyes locked hard on my face as a grin crossed my cheeks.
“We were,” I said. “You guys ready to head out?”
“Can I eat my ice in the car?” Lily asked.
“Of course, you can,” Cindy said. “Then we can run around in the backyard and sing all the songs we heard today.”
“Can we play my new CD?” Lily asked.
“As loud as you want,” I said.
Paul’s face was turning bright red. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Was he serious? Did he really think he had some claim to Cindy because he helped her out a bit and was good friends with her dead husband? There was something wrong with this guy, and I had every intention of keeping an eye on him.
The question was, should I tell Cindy? Was that my place?
He clearly made her feel uncomfortable, which meant she had her own defenses up.
And that was enough for now.
The three of us got back into Cindy’s car and made our way back home. Lily kept going on and on about her new CD and how much she loved her sugar ice and how much fun we had at the festival. But her sentences became lazy, and her voice came soft, and as we were pulling up into Cindy’s driveway, small snores were fluttering from the back seat.
“I figured the car ride would put her out,” Cindy said.
“Need any help getting her out?” I asked.
“Nah. I’m a professional at doing all sorts of things while she’s sleeping.”
The two of us got out of the car, and I made my way to her. My plan was to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she turned her face and our lips connected. The electricity that shot through my jaw twitched it, opening my mouth a bit to her. She followed what she thought was my lead, but really it was the reaction my body had to hers. Lily was fast asleep in the car as I pinned her mother to it, my tongue raking against her teeth as fire flooded my veins.
Her arms wrapped around my back, her fingers digging into me as I held her tightly against my body.
Desire was taking over, and I knew I needed to take a step back. I couldn't have her. Not in the middle of the driveway with Lily still in the car. I peeled our lips apart and allowed my forehead to sink to hers, my body humming against her curves.
She was irresistible to me, addictive in all the ways I’d missed in a woman.
“I had a great time this afternoon,” Cindy said.
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry Paul made things awkward.”
“He does that a lot, doesn’t he?” I asked.
“Did he say anything to you? He didn’t upset you, did he?”
I debated on whether to tell her before I shook my head.
“Nothing I can’t handle from a guy like him,” I said.
“As long as you’re not upset, then I’m not upset,” she said.
I took a step back from her and shoved my hands into my pockets. If I didn’t, I was liable to take her back in my arms and make her mine right there on the damn hood. She cradled her daughter in her arms, and I followed them to her porch and helped her with her keys so she could open the door.
“Talk to you soon?” Cindy asked.
“As soon as possible,” I said with a grin.
CHAPTER 19
CINDY
I was sitting at my computer as I typed Graham’s name into the search engine. When nothing came up, it dawned on me that he had told me he had changed his last name when he’d gone into hiding. So instead I typed in “home invasion murder” and the date around the time Graham had said they’d died. An article popped up and I shivered as I read it.
It was an article about the attack on his home right there in Washington, DC, two years ago. A mother and her son had been killed. The only other things mentioned in the article were that the authorities were looking into possible connections to the mob. No mention of Graham, of him being an agent, or really, of him existing at all. All it said was that “the husband and father was not home at the time”.
I felt my skin grow cold and clammy. He had mentioned that an operation had gone south. Had it involved the mob? Was he somehow trying to infiltrate a crime family? Had he been undercover or something? I kept digging and reading, taking in all the conspiracy blogs and the news reports centered around what had happened in his home and to his family.
I felt a connection with Graham, a growing connection I couldn't ignore, but I also knew that I had to make good decisions for myself and for my daughter. It didn’t matter how much I was drawn to him, and it didn’t matter how much I enjoyed him. I had Lily to look out for. I couldn’t put her in danger if Graham was indeed mixed up with people who could harm us.
And the more I read, the more I worried.
What if his connections weren’t as clear-cut as he made them out to be? He made it sound like he quit after the death of his family, but there were a few mentions of an agent deserting. I read theories centered around improper debriefings. People talking out of turn and ratting out other special agents. The conspiracy blogs and sites had been abuzz with all sorts of things, and as much as I tried to shake them off, I couldn't. There were things said that Graham had mentioned at dinner. Hired killers. Professional jobs. A mission aborted. A leak in the CIA.
It made me sick to read.
What if there was more to this? What if Graham’s past wasn’t in his past yet? I closed my computer, unable to process any more of it.
Had his family really been killed by the mob? Could he have been wrong?
There was only one paper article on it, and it scared me. There were no leads the police found in their murder, so no one was ever tried or convicted, which made sense if it was a cover-up. But wouldn't Graham know something like that? If he was one of their best agents, wouldn’t he know their death wasn’t what it looked like?
But then again, there was only one article on it. If they had been murdered by some notorious gang of criminals, it would’ve been plastered everywhere, not just one newspaper and a loc
al news station broadcast.
Right?
Was it possible the CIA hired the mob to kill his family? That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. Our government wouldn’t do something like that. My husband had fought and given his life for this country. They wouldn't turn around and kill their own like that. They wouldn't turn around and slaughter the lives of innocent civilians for their own gain.
I couldn't believe that. I wouldn’t.
Because if it was true, then what the hell had my husband died for?
I tried to search for more information but hit dead end after dead end. I knew even if I did know Graham’s real last name, I’d never find anything online about him. The CIA dealt in the most discreet ways. No names, no pictures, no information that could compromise an agent or bring trouble to his family or the agency would ever be released. I sighed and closed my eyes, rubbing my temples.
I had questions I needed to ask him that I deserved answers to. Did he know about the mob connection that the paper mentioned? Was it even real or a smoke screen to throw him and anyone else off the scent? Were they still after him and if they found him, would he be killed? And what about me now that I had grown close to him?
I had a daughter to keep safe.
I wanted to walk over and question him about it, but something was stopping me. If he was willing to come clean at dinner about his past job and open up to me more about his family’s death, then he would come to me. He was already proving he would and that he was willing. I felt safe around him, safe in his arms and whenever he was around. If I made the promise to open up whenever he did, then eventually, he would tell me.
I had to believe that about him.
CHAPTER 20
GRAHAM
As I slid underneath the car I was working on, my mind rushed back to Cindy. I wondered how she was doing and if her Wednesday was off to a decent start. I wondered if she had gotten Lily off to school okay and if the two of them had a decent night. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I couldn't stop picturing her in my head and feeling her lips against my neck with her curves pressed against my body.
Guilt flooded my gut. How the hell could I be thinking about another woman this way? My wife and son were murdered because of my negligence, and here I was acting like it didn’t fucking happen. I was pulling some unassuming woman and her daughter into my poisonous web, expecting things to turn out fine. I was becoming selfish again. My ego was getting the best of me, and I was discarding my reality in favor of some bullshit picture I thought I was painting for myself. It was going to get them killed.
Just like Cary and Kason.
I didn’t want that for Cindy and Lily. I wanted better for them. I wanted Cindy to be happy, and I wanted Lily to keep being the carefree child she was. I wanted Lily to grow up and find happiness, fall in love, and go to college. I wanted Cindy to have her dreams, and I wanted her to find her soulmate. She was a wonderful woman and a fabulous mother, and she deserved those kinds of things she couldn’t have with me.
I was putting them in danger. I knew someone was watching us, and I had proof someone had been in my fucking house. My past was too close, and it was going to get them killed. I was allowing my selfish whims and wants as a man to overshadow what I was doing in this damn town in the first place.
And the guilt continued to eat me alive.
Daniel hadn’t called me back with any information, and it was starting to make me nervous. On the one hand, he could be chasing down leads he’d already found. On the other hand, he could be in trouble and on the run himself. I was a taboo person to get caught up with, and even though Daniel wanted me to assimilate into society, there was a reason I kept people at arm’s length. It kept them safe from harm, and it kept them alive. The longer I could lurk in the shadows, the better off everyone was.
The wrench in my hand slipped and came down on my nose. I grimaced in pain as I slid out from underneath the car. I held my bleeding nose as I made my way to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. Turning on the faucet, I watched as the blood dripped into the sink.
Yet more blood spilling because of my slipups.
I closed my eyes and saw my family, Kason running in the backyard and Cary with her arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel her there. I could feel her warmth pressing into my back. I splashed some water on my face as I let my nose drain into the sink, the grease and the blood swirling down the drain.
I could hear Kason’s giggle echoing off the corners of my mind as I cleaned myself up.
I didn’t know what to do at this point. I couldn’t concentrate at work, and when I tried to call Daniel on my lunch break, he didn’t pick up. I was backed up in cars and cutting myself open in all sorts of places. I was attracting attention when I didn’t need to be, and I was thankful when Kevin finally sent me home early.
I needed some time to myself.
I went home and tried calling Daniel again, but it shot me to voicemail. I threw my phone on the bed and took a long shower, staying in there until the water ran cold. I drew in a deep breath as I dried myself off, my eyes scanning the backyard from my window in the bedroom.
I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me, and I knew my paranoia was getting the best of me.
But deep inside, I also knew I wasn’t paranoid.
There was a reason why I couldn't get Daniel on the phone.
A knock at my front door sent me on high alert. At least, until I heard Cindy call my name through it. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and tossed my towel onto my bed before I strode for my front door. I opened it up and saw her standing there with her beautiful hair pulled back and her twinkling eyes staring straight into my chest.
I saw her neck flush, and it filled me with a sense of pride.
“Hey there, Graham.”
“Cindy.”
“I was, um …”
I grinned down at her as she shook her head and lifted her gaze to mine.
“You were?” I asked.
“Wondering what you were doing for dinner tonight,” she said.
“I figured I’d order a pizza,” I said.
“How do you feel about another home-cooked meal?”
“Are you making lasagna again?”
“Nope. Trying my hand at chicken pot pie this time, but I can already tell I made way too much,” she said.
“Then consider me a guinea pig,” I said.
“Perfect. The pie should be out of the oven in the next few minutes. Come over anytime you want,” she said.
Being in her presence calmed the voices in my mind. I closed the door and walked into my room, getting changed into some jeans and a button-down shirt. I smoothed my hair back and made sure my fingernails were clear of any grease. Then, I headed over to her house.
I was excited to be spending more time with them even though I knew I should be staying as far away as possible. I just couldn’t seem to keep myself from them though and the conflicting emotions were slowly driving me mad.
I helped Cindy set the table as Lily bounced around in her seat. Her dainty little curls were bouncing around everywhere as she rattled on about her day at school, about friends and coloring and learning how to read words. She kept spelling things like plate and milk and pie. Cindy was beaming with pride like a proud mother should during moments like this, and the way she looked at her daughter tugged at something in my chest.
“What did you do today, Graham?” Lily asked.
“Well, I went to work. Worked on some cars. Busted my nose,” I said.
“Wait, you did what?” Cindy asked.
“It’s not a big deal. A wrench fell on my face.”
“Mommy’s phone does that too,” Lily said.
“Let me see. Turn to me, Graham,” Cindy said.
“I promise, it’s fine. Not the first time I’ve been hurt working on a car, and it won’t be the last,” I said.
“Do you do other things? Besides cars?” Lily asked.
“Like hobbies?” I aske
d.
“Graham, are you sure you’re okay?” Cindy asked.
I reached out and wrapped my hand around hers, drawing her eyes down to our connection.
“I promise you. I’m okay, Cindy.”
I watched her turn her hand over, reveling in how her small fingers wrapped around mine.
“Yeah, like hobbies. I like swimming. And eating,” Lily said.
“Eating’s a good hobby,” I said. “I do a lot of that.”
“Me too. Do you eat macaroni?” Lily asked.
“Only if it’s got cheese on it,” I said.
“And ice cream?” she asked.
“Always ice cream.”
“What about peanut butter and jelly?”
“Yes, but I prefer strawberry jam,” I said.
“Ew. That’s gross, Graham.”
I chuckled at Lily as Cindy served up our plates. We passed things around and enjoyed dinner together as I continued to field Lily’s questions. She was very talkative and curious. She wanted to know all sorts of things about me. Where I was from. If I had a mommy and daddy. What my favorite color was. Cindy kept trying to quiet her down, but I reassured her it was all right.
There was something soothing about talking to a child. There was an innocence in their eyes I’d lost a long time ago.
“Do you like movies?” Lily asked.
“Who doesn’t?” I asked.
“Wanna watch one with us?” Lily asked.
“There’s a movie after dinner?” I asked.
“News to me, but you’re more than welcome to stay if you want to,” Cindy asked.
“Then, I’d love to. Is there popcorn involved?”
The three of us piled on the couch with a huge bowl of popcorn as Cinderella popped up on the screen. Lily kept reciting her favorite lines as she shoveled popcorn into her mouth, and I kept stealing glances at Cindy. It felt nice to be sitting with both of them on the couch with Cindy tucked underneath my arm and Lily between my legs. I’d had that once before with my own family.
I had to close my eyes and keep reminding myself that they weren’t my family. Lily wasn’t my child, and Cindy wasn’t my wife.
The movie ended, and Lily was passed out against my chest. Cindy moved the popcorn bowl and proceeded to get Lily ready for bed, wiping her down with wipes while the little girl slept. I watched her take the girl’s shoes off and remove the bow from her hair. I admired the mother she was, how gentle she was in her movements and how tightly she cradled Lily against her.