by T. K. Leigh
CHASING THE DRAGON
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Published by Carpe Per Diem, Inc / Tracy Kellam, 25852 McBean Parkway # 806, Santa Clarita, CA 91355
Edited by Kim Young, Kim’s Editing Services
Proofread by: Tiffany Reid
Cover Design: Cat Head Biscuit, Inc., Santa Clarita, CA
Front Cover Image Copyright 2015 Serg Zastavkin
Back Cover Image Copyright 2015 GeorgeMPhotography
Used under license from Shutterstock.com
Copyright © 2015 T.K. Leigh / Tracy Kellam
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0990739929
ISBN-13: 978-0-9907399-2-0
Chasing The Dragon
Prologue
Chapter One - Unexpected
Chapter Two - Deception
Chapter Three - Piece Of My Heart
Chapter Four - A Gift
Chapter Five - A Race
Chapter Six - Flutters
Chapter Seven - Click
Chapter Eight - The Past Resurfaces
Chapter Nine - One Night
Chapter Ten - The Lonely
Chapter Eleven - Cinnamon
Chapter Twelve - The Little Things
Chapter Thirteen - Undoing
Chapter Fourteen - Padre
Chapter Fifteen - Casualty
Chapter Sixteen - Turtledove
Chapter Seventeen - Target
Chapter Eighteen - Blurred Lines
Chapter Nineteen - Fairytale
Chapter Twenty - The First Step
Chapter Twenty-One - Full Metal Jacket
Chapter Twenty-Two - Jump Together
Chapter Twenty-Three - Family
Chapter Twenty- Four - Ruin You
Chapter Twenty-Five - Lightning Strike
Chapter Twenty-Six - More
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Victoria Cross
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Alive
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Never Let Go
Chapter Thirty - Always
Chapter Thirty-One - The Circle Of Trust
Chapter Thirty-Two - Demons
Chapter Thirty-Three - Home
Chapter Thirty-Four - Missing Piece
Chapter Thirty-Five - The Beast
Chapter Thirty-Six - Trust
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Betrayal
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Monster
Playlist
Slaying The Dragon
Acknowledgements
About The Author
To the only man I'd ever chase the dragon with… My wonderful husband, Stan. Love you to the moon and back.
Chasing The Dragon: /slang/ The frenzied drive to recreate that first high, that first taste of addicting euphoria and bliss. Its origins date back to the days of opium, commonly referred to as “the dragon”. The term has been broadened over the years to include chasing any high… From drugs, to risk-taking behavior, to sex, to your first crime…
To your first kill…
Mackenzie
“SERAFINA, MI BICHITO,” MY mama called out to me in her thick Spanish accent. “Please hurry. We don’t have much time.”
I attempted to zip up my bag, the jittery tone of my mom’s voice causing me to shake in apprehension. I continued to struggle with the zipper, trying to close it, but was unable to force it shut due to all the items I had hastily collected and shoved into the one bag I was permitted to bring. How could I possibly fit my entire life into something so small?
Mama appeared in the doorway, a frantic air about her as she rushed me along. A tall and lean man followed behind her, concern etched in his face. When my eyes fell on Chaplain Slattery’s anxious demeanor, I grew more agitated and nervous. He looked odd dressed in something other than his army uniform. It was as if he didn’t want anyone to recognize him or what he was doing at that moment, even though I had absolutely no idea what that was. All I knew was that I was being taken away, under the cover of darkness, from the only home I had ever known and would be given a new identity. No explanation had been given. It didn’t make any sense to me. Then again, nothing about the past few days did.
“Isadora, you need to stop calling her that,” Slattery said, his voice firm. “The sooner you begin using your new names, the easier the transition will be. You’re no longer Magdalena, and she’s no longer Serafina. One slip could mean−”
“I know, I know,” Mama said, her chin quivering as she sought to fight back the tears that were already trickling down her cheeks. “Mackenzie, mi amor,” she corrected. “Please. Vamos por favor.”
“I don’t understand, Mama. Why can’t I say goodbye to any of my friends? To Damian? Won’t he miss me?”
“Oh, mi cariño,” she appeased, sitting on my bed. Enveloping me in her arms, she soothed me as I hid my emotions from her. I refused to cry. My father taught me to be strong, and a ten-year-old girl was far past the age where it was acceptable to cry over having to leave a friend. As the daughter of a man in the army, it was part of life.
“I’m sure he will.” Mama planted a kiss on my forehead. I inhaled, smelling the scent of cinnamon and coconut, which always made me think of her. Pulling away, I searched her small, dark eyes, the color almost as deep as her hair. “I’m sure all your friends will, but it’s not safe for us here anymore. The chaplain is here to help. Once they find your dad, we can come back. Until then, we have to leave.”
“Why? Why can’t you tell me?” I searched her eyes before glancing at Slattery, beseeching both of them to tell me what was going on.
“Because you can’t know,” he said, briskly walking into the room. He zipped up my bag with ease and held it in his hand. “I can’t even make sense of what’s going on,” I heard him mumble under his breath.
I grew more edgy, wondering what danger my father was in… What danger we were in.
“We must leave. Reveille is in two hours and you both need to be gone before then.”
Mama nodded, standing up and tugging me with her.
As we made our way from the only bedroom I’d ever had, I straightened my spine, trying to shed the girl that was known as Serafina Galloway and become who I now had to be… Mackenzie Delano. My eye caught the glimmer of a silver frame and I abruptly stopped in front of my bookcase. Snatching a photo of me and my best friend, Damian, I attempted to hide it beneath my coat.
“No, Mackenzie,” Slattery admonished. “I’m sorry. You can’t bring anything that will identify who you really are.”
A lone tear fell down my cheek and I delicately caressed the photo, wishing I could have some sort of reminder of what my life was like before being chased out of our home.
“Can you hold on to it for me then? Please?” I raised my eyebrows, questioning him, begging him to show the compassion I knew he possessed beneath his practical exterior. “Put it some place where nothing will happen to it. And then, when it’s safe, I can get it back.”
His stern expression softening, he took the frame from me. “Okay. I
’ll keep it safe for you.” Clutching my hand in his, he led me from my room and out of the house just outside Fort Bragg in Fayetteville, North Carolina where I had lived as long as I could remember.
“Can you make sure he’s okay?” I asked. “I know he’s a boy, but he’s not as strong as he lets on. When his dad is away, he has to be the man of the house and it wears him down. Can you…? Can you at least make sure he finds someone else to play war games with? He needs someone to play with.”
Slattery’s formerly stoic demeanor cracked and a barely audible sob escaped his mouth. “I’ll do my best, Fi.”
I whimpered at his use of Damian’s nickname for me, wondering if I would ever hear his voice call out to me again in the middle of the night from his bedroom window just across from mine. Glancing up at the tree separating our yards, I was reminded of hundreds of nights spent dangling from the branches, watching the stars as they flickered in the sky.
“Mama said that one’s called Pegasus,” I remembered telling him, pointing to the constellation my mother had just taught me about. “She says that Pegasus is the son of Neptune and Medusa. He was Zeus’ horse and carried lightning bolts!”
“How do you think he carried lightning bolts, Fi?” Damian had asked as he clung to every word.
“What do you mean?”
“He had hooves. How could a horse carry something if he doesn’t have thumbs?”
I tried to come up with a response. I hadn’t thought of that. “I…”
I turned away, hating that he was always so much smarter than I was.
“He probably has magic hooves,” Damian had said, nudging me gently.
As I peered out the back window of the car in the dead of night, the tree disappearing from view, I said a silent prayer that I would find my way back to that tree one day…and to Damian.
~~~~~~~~~~
HOURS LATER, ONCE WE were safely aboard our flight to our new home, Mama leaned toward me and whispered, “Don’t worry, Mackenzie. The chaplain will pray for us, and for your father.”
“Where’s Dad?”
She turned her head, looking forward, avoiding my eyes. “I wish I knew.”
“Is he in trouble?”
Taking a deep breath, Mama returned her gaze to me. “Sí. Your father is in a great deal of trouble and, until it’s safe, we must stay hidden. I promise you will know everything one day but, until then, you just have to trust that the chaplain and I are doing what’s best for you.”
“I miss him.”
“So do I, mi amor. So do I.” She placed a kiss on my head and whispered, “Te quiero, Serafina. Siempre.”
Sixteen Years Later
Mackenzie
THE SOUNDS OF DRUNK college co-eds on Spring Break swam through the air as I drove down the main strip on South Padre Island, allowing the wind to blow through my sleek, dark hair. Today was a good day. My dreams were about to become a reality. Tomorrow, the doors would open on my new restaurant and lounge that specialized in pairing drinks and desserts in a swanky after-dinner environment. It was something I had worked toward and planned for the better part of the past decade. In regards to the goals I had set for myself after graduating from Texas A&M four years ago, it had all come together ahead of schedule.
Finish graduate school in two years instead of three…check.
Find a fantastic place with beautiful ocean views…check.
Open up my own business so I could be my own boss…almost check.
I honestly didn’t think it would be possible before I hit thirty, but I proved everyone wrong, including myself. The eighty-hour work weeks and sleepless nights I had endured over the past six months were entirely worth it now that I was just hours away from realizing my dreams.
It was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at the same time. I could either succeed or fail…and I didn’t know how to fail. I didn’t know how to deal with anything except unwavering success. To say I was an overachiever was putting it mildly.
My cell phone loudly rang from the cup holder in my little Mercedes convertible that was a graduation gift several years ago, bringing me out of my daydreams. Checking the screen of my smart phone, my eyes fell on the face of the man who had stood by my side and supported me through everything. His brilliant blue eyes beamed back at me, his lips pinched together, mocking the popular “duck face” trend we poked fun at every chance we got…usually when substantial amounts of adult beverages were involved.
“Hey, Brayden.”
“How’s my best girl?” he asked, exuding all the vitality I had grown accustomed to since meeting him my sophomore year of college.
“Great, although I feel like I’m about to throw up knowing the next time I step foot in that place will be for the opening night gala.”
“Don’t sweat it, Mack. It’s perfect.”
There was a brief pause, which was entirely uncharacteristic for Brayden. As long as I had known him, he was never one to remain silent for extended periods of time, even for a few seconds. He was the life of the party, and the heavy silence made me nervous.
“Okay, what is it?” I locked my jaw, as if bracing for whatever blow he was about to deliver.
“So…I know I promised I’d be free and clear tomorrow,” he said quickly as if speaking fast would soften the impact, “but something came up at work and I can’t make opening night.” He let out a breath of relief.
“You can’t get out of it?” I asked nervously. “I need you.” My voice had taken on a whiney characteristic I wasn’t too proud of, but my words were true. “This is important to me.”
“I know it is, but the judge just set a date to start the trial and I have a whole slew of depositions I still need to get through before I can even attempt to try this case in front of a jury. We were hoping to have a little bit of extra time, but the firm is sending me to Reno to take a deposition. You have no idea how bad I feel about ditching you and Jenna on the biggest day of your lives…so far.”
“We’ll be one musketeer short! It’ll be like a taco without the meat.”
“I know, sweet cheeks. I tried everything to get out of it, but being a junior associate doesn’t give me much wiggle room. In fact, I think they’re calling my flight for boarding right now.”
I scowled, trying to come up with something that would convince him to abandon responsibility like we used to when we were roommates. At first, I had been hesitant to take on a male roommate, but once I realized we both shared the same taste in men, my stress level decreased. In fact, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it, which was why the thought of having to navigate through the most momentous occasion of my twenties without him to support me tore me apart and made me even more nervous about it. Jenna had her husband, Richard, to support her. Brayden was all I had.
“Mack, baby, get that look off your face,” he scolded.
“How did…?” I glanced around cautiously as I continued driving, almost hoping he was simply playing a cruel trick on me and was sitting in the back of my car.
“After seven years, I know when you’re smiling, when you’re scrunching your nose, when you’re wrinkling your forehead, and even when that vein is popping. Don’t worry, baby girl. Everything will be great. And if you need me, I’m just a phone call away. Oh, and I gave Jenna a cut-out version of my head, so I want to be tagged in all the pictures on Facebook. Got it?”
“Whatever, boo.”
“I’m serious! It’s my best headshot! Don’t make me go gay best friend on your ass.”
“Too late for that.”
“Do not roll your eyes. I can feel you doing it. Stop. Wrinkles. Crow’s feet.”
“Take it back!” I laughed, counting my lucky stars I had him in my life. He always had a way of making me smile, even in a less than optimal situation. He called it his “special gift”. I called it him being a beautiful soul in a world full of self-centered assholes.
“Okay. Must go. Kisses. Love me!” he gleefully exclaimed before the line went quiet.
Pulling my car through the gated entry, I parked in my spot. As I walked toward the building, I checked my watch.
“Shit,” I muttered, not having realized how late it had gotten, and dashed through the front doors, the concierge nodding a hasty greeting to me.
“Evening, Mack!”
“Hey, Paul. I’m a bit late so I can’t stay and talk.”
The middle-aged former police officer, who I had become rather friendly with over the past several years, smiled. When things got too lonely in my condo, and both Jenna and Brayden were preoccupied with their own significant others, I found myself hanging out in the security office with Paul. He made me feel safe, his caring and doting demeanor reminding me of my father…at least what I could remember of him from my childhood.
“No worries.” He waved me off. “We’ll catch up later when you have more time.”
The elevator car arrived and, after a short ride, I barreled out onto the twelfth floor and into my condo overlooking the beach on the far north end of the island.
A high-pitched meow met me as I stormed down the long hallway, needing to shower. The weather had been hot and humid, even for March, and all the running around I had done to prepare for our opening night had taken its toll on me.
“Meatball, Mama doesn’t have time for this right now,” I explained to the slightly overweight gray cat I had found crying in a bush when he was barely three weeks old. “I’ll feed you the second I’m clean. I promise, buddy.” Peeling my jeans and t-shirt off as I entered the master bedroom, I ran into the bathroom and turned the water to a scorching level.
After an invigorating shower, the entire time thinking about the restaurant and going through my mental checklist to make sure everything was ready for the following night, I entered my walk-in closet, scanning the hangers for something appropriate to wear on our weekly girls’ night.