by Drake, J. L.
He flips me the bird over his shoulder.
So that makes two red down and one orange that just spread like nine bullets at the wall. I keep moving. I finally look over and see I’m just a few feet from the flag. Screw it! I jump to my feet and sprint toward the flag, I leap and my hand just brushes over it as I feel three pops to my lower stomach. Noooo! I fall to the ground, now thankful for all the gear. I feel the paintballs but it doesn’t hurt. I jump to my feet I have to look like I do this all the time.
Oh no, I’m supposed to know where to go. Damn it! I hear some laughter off to my left, Thank God. I walk in seeing the guys with their visors up cracking jokes about how they got shot. I take a seat against the wall, fighting the urge to cross my legs. I look around and try to sit like them. I spread my legs and lean on an elbow. I feel ridiculous—this is not comfortable. Someone on the orange team comes and sits next to me, his arm and chest dripping green paint. I wonder if Mark shot him. He holds his fist out to me. Oh, right. Fist bumps. I bump him back and give a nod. I notice he doesn’t remove his visor either. I wish I knew who he is but his name tag is now covered in green. I glance up at the screen where the times are counting down for each guy. This place is seriously cool—scary as hell—but frigging cool.
“You have fun last night Black?” I feel an elbow to the ribs by orange, who points at Keith.
I nod hoping he won’t ask me another question.
Keith looks at me strangely then shrugs as he stands.
“Heads up guys, Lopez says he saw Savannah by the stables.” I freeze. “So stay clear of that area.”
Everyone nods and I find myself mimicking them. I feel a little loved that they are watching out for me.
“Is she wearing a dress or pants today? I want to know if I should be on high or low ground,” York calls out, making me tense again.
“When will you learn, York? She’s just not into you,” Keith shoots back with a sigh. “Leave the poor woman alone.”
I jump to my feet when I see my time is up. I race out of the room, not wanting to hear anymore. Just as I’m crouching under a table a loud siren goes off and people start walking out of the building.
***
As soon as I’m outside I see why the siren went off. No way! I see that the orange team has flown the flag they are all cheering holding beers in the air.
Everyone comes together removing their helmets. I almost lose it when I see that the orange teammate with the dripping green on his arm and chest sitting right next to me is Cole.
“Game’s over, Black,” York shouts. “Helmet.” He knocks on my head.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Finally Mark comes to my side with John. Everyone stops and looks at me, then John, then me some more…
“I recruited one more.” Mark laughs, nudging me to remove the helmet. I unclip it, pulling it off slowly making my messy hair fall all around me. The looks on their faces are priceless.
“Hi.” I beam at them.
“Wait,” Keith holds up his finger at me, “was that you on the ground right before I got shot?”
I smile and repeat the wave.
“Oh my God.” He starts to laugh but stops when he sees Cole’s face.
“That wasn’t smart, Mark,” Cole bites out. “We’ll discuss this later.”
Mark moves in front of me, blocking Cole’s stare. “He just has a job to do. Don’t worry, he’s not mad at you.” He grins. “Well fuck me sideways, how much fun was that?”
“It beats a day at the office.” I laugh high-fiving him. “I have to admit I was going to kill you when I saw the inside of the ‘barn.’ You sent me to war!”
“Pretty cool though, right?” I burst out laughing again.
“Yeah, it will be something I’ll never forget. Oh wow, thanks, Mark. I kind of needed that.”
“Anytime. All right, I’m going to go face the heat,” he hands me a beer, then leaves to face the music with Cole.
I see Keith coming to my side. “How much trouble is Mark in?” I ask.
“Cole and Mark are tight. Normally he’d get watch duty for a night but now—” he stops himself, “he may get a little more.”
“Why?” I fumble with the beer cap maybe it isn’t a twist off. He takes out his wallet and removes a sliver looking card. No, it’s actually a bottle opener? Cool. He flips the lid off with a smile.
“Handy little thing,” he says, tucking it away but not before I notice the letter S engraved on it. I wonder if they all have one. He waits till it stops foaming and hands it back.
“Thanks.”
“We’re cracking down on the rules now.” He gives me shrug.
“Ah, I see. Because I’m luring the American closer.” His face flinches. “It’s okay, Keith. I get that I’ll be here for a while and I’m on the top of ‘the American’s most wanted to re-kidnap list.’” I sigh, taking a sip of the beer. “Any word about the poison?”
“Cole is the one you should be talking to about that. Sorry, Savannah, but we have rules.”
***
The conversation around the dinner table is pretty interesting tonight. Cole has yet to join us.
Abigail is floored that I had participated in ‘the battle,’ as they call it.
“You think that was a wise idea, Mark?” She narrows her brow at him.
“It was worth the punishment.” He winks at me.
I love that Mark took one for me so I could have a little fun. I’ll have to make it up to him somehow. I heard that he also took all the heat not wanting to John to get in trouble as well.
“What you get anyway?” Keith asks, chewing on a roll.
“Three nights at the peak.” He shrugs.
“Shitty,” Keith responds.
“The Peak?” I ask, not following.
“It’s the worst post to be at and it’s normally reserved for the rookies,” Keith explains, “especially this time of year with the wind and rain. Make’s my bones ache just thinking of it.”
“Oh, Mark, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The look on the guys’ faces when you took off your helmet is worth every minute up there on the cold, cold hill!” He holds his beer up at me. “To Agent Black, someone not to turn your back on.” He eyes Paul, who I had hit two times in the back. Everyone raises their glasses to me as we all start laughing.
“So, when is the next battle?” I’m joking but everyone grows quiet. “Come on, you said I could shoot.”
Cole comes to the head of the table looking less than impressed. “Sorry I’m late, Abigail. Dinner looks great.” He glances around the table. “Please don’t stop the conversation on my account.”
“Tell me, Savi, how to did you manage to pop me in the back?” Paul bravely asks.
“Hubcap. I could make out your movements in the reflection.”
“Impressive.” He chuckles.
“Paul,” Cole wipes his mouth with his napkin, “tell Savannah how you hurt your neck.”
Paul sighs loudly I’m guessing I won’t like this. “Keith dropped from twenty feet above me, slipped a disc in my neck. Hurts like hell when it rains.”
“Keith, tell Savannah about your knee.” Cole turns to where Keith is sitting.
“I got plowed from the side by Mike. We both fell ten feet off a beam; he landed on my knee.”
Cole points to Mark. “Left shoulder.”
Mark turns, pulling up his shirt revealing a jagged scar across his shoulder.
I gasp, covering my mouth. It looks terrible.
“Fell on a metal peg, got dragged a few yards. Tore right through my gear.”
Cole focuses back on me. “My point, Savannah, is all this happened during our training in paintball. We didn’t know it was you in Black’s uniform today. Any one of us could have seriously injured you. There will be no other battles that you will be involved in.”
Chapter Nine
Cole watches everyone go their own way after dinner. No one seems up for socializing tonight. He is fine with that. He
is still reeling from what happened at training.
John appears and drops his duffel bag at the door next to Cole’s and signals he is ready.
Cole nods at him and heads for the stairs knowing that what he is about to say isn’t going to be easy, well at least for him anyway.
Her door is open and he peeks in, seeing her sitting in front of the fireplace, the glow of the flame casting shadows on her face. Her hair is in a messy bun held up with a pen. A few pieces have come loose and she looks sexy as she is leaning over, studying a photo.
“Savi,” he says quietly so as not to scare her.
She glances up, giving him a sexy smile.
“May I come in?”
“Sure.”
He walks in, seeing papers and photos fanned out in front of her.
“Is this what you wanted to show me before?”
“Yes, I found something.” She hands him the picture she was just studying. It is of her father at a charity event. “Look who he’s toasting with.” She points to the bracelet. “He knows the girl who took my picture in the pub.”
Well he’ll be damned, she found something.
“This was taken four months after my kidnapping, they must be close because my father doesn’t smile like that with just anyone.”
Huh, interesting.
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I tracked down the number of the charity event coordinator I’ve met him before. I was thinking I could call him.”
“No, Savi—”
“I won’t give my name or anything, but I could get the guest list. I’ve been to these things enough times to know who’s who and I could start the process of elimination.”
“I’ll get you the list,” he says a little harder than he intended to.
“Fine.” She dismisses his tone.
“What’s this?” he asks, picking up an article about a woman who was kidnapped.
“Well I been researching Los Sirvientes Del Diablos and found a few stories of the victims that were actually returned unharmed. Shocking how few there were.” She rubs her stomach. “Their ransoms were huge—like a couple million. One woman was only gone a month and they got one point five for her.” She sighs. “Cole, my ransom just doesn’t make sense. Their pattern changed with me, why? I’m wracking my brain—why was the American involved in my case?”
“Okay, slow down. This is a great find,” he says holding up the picture studying it. “I’ll make the call and get the guest list. This is all one giant puzzle and you’ll go mad asking all the questions at once. You need to pick one and start there. If you hit a dead end, put it aside and pick up another. A path will soon start to show itself, then a picture will start to form. Have you had any more flashbacks?”
She bites her lip, debating telling him.
“I remember my first proof of life,” she finally whispers, “when I first met Maria.” She looks really uncomfortable. She bends down picking up a small piece of paper. “Here’s the number for the charity.” Her face looks flushed and her eyes are watery. “His name is Gary, he’s really friendly.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, stepping toward her.
She shakes her head, handing him the paper. “Some flashbacks are harder than others.” She lets out a shaky breath.
Before he could ask any more questions John sticks his head in the door. “Hey, Savi.” He grins at her, “Logan, the chopper will be here in fifteen. We’re good to go.”
“You’re leaving?” She looks up quickly, her eyes startled.
“We got a lead that needs to be followed in TJ.”
She shakes her head stepping away from him. He doesn’t like it when she does that.
“Who’s all going?”
“John, Paul, Mark and me.”
“For how long?” She looks unhappy, almost nervous.
“Three to four days at the most.”
Her eyes go wide as she processes his words. “Savannah it’s—”
“I don’t want you to go,” she blurts out making his lungs freeze, “I-I don’t want you to go, Cole.”
He reaches out, pulling her to him.
She goes willingly into his arms.
He can feel her trembling as her arms tighten around him and he breathes in deeply, her apple shampoo making his heart ache.
“Don’t go,” she whispers.
“Ahh, Savi, I don’t want to but I have to,” he whispers into her hair.
“It’s not safe, what if—”
“We don’t use what if’s. We check in once in the morning and again at night. I’ll be back in a few days.”
She pulls away slightly, looking up at him. “Promise me you’ll be back.”
He knows he shouldn’t, he never would have before, but looking into her eyes—feeling the way he feels—he cannot stop the words.
“I promise.”
She closes her eyes, leaning her head on his chest.
He reaches up, removing the pen from her hair, and runs his fingers through it. “You have no idea how hard it is to walk away right now.”
“Then don’t.”
Oh god, she’s killing him. His brain is firing off so many things but he only cares about one.
She lifts her head almost like she can hear him. “Cole.”
“Yes.”
“Kiss me.”
He dives down, pressing into her soft lips.
She wraps her arms around his neck pushing her body into his. The first swipe of her tongue makes him dive in deeper and she moans as she becomes jelly in his arms.
He can’t get enough of her, she tastes sweet. One hand travels down to her waist. His fingers run along her velvet skin, making his knees weak. She feels so tiny in his arms; he has to remember to be gentle. His hands slide around to her back, then down over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze.
She nibbles at his lower lip, making him painfully hard. “Cole,” she leans back letting her hands travel down his stomach.
He shivers, pulling her back to his lips—he needs to taste her.
“Logan, choppers are here,” John shouts from down the hall.
She doesn’t stop the kiss, so he puts everything he has into it until finally finding the strength to pull away, leaving her off balance.
“See you in a few days.” He kisses her once more, quickly, unable to hang around any longer. He knows he has to get away from her. She is like a drug, sucking him backwards.
“Be safe,” he hears her whisper. Damn it, he turns, giving her a smile than leaves.
You've crossed the forbidden line, asshole! He smiles a little though as he rushes down the staircase, her taste lingering on his tongue. His head is swimming as he squints, making his way toward the chopper, flinging his bag inside, and jumping into his seat.
Mark gives him a questioning eyebrow then joins his grin like he just figured out where he was.
Cole closes his eyes, letting himself have a moment relishing the past ten minutes.
***
I flop down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I want to laugh, cry, and scream—my body is firing sparks all over. I have never been kissed like that before—or was it that I’ve never felt like this toward a man before? Either way it is amazing. Now he has four days to think about it. What if he realizes it is a mistake? I’m technically a client. No, don’t go there, Savi. Enjoy your high. I cross my arms over my head, smelling him on my clothes as I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
***
Autumn Ball, Manhattan, 2014. I hit enter and my fingers strum the desk. I have decided that my first task is to find out who the silver bracelet woman is, then why she took my picture, and why was she following me? Everyone is a suspect so I wonder if it was a coincidence that she was there the same the day I was taken? I decide to Google the events that I know my father would normally attend. The Autumn Ball was a few days ago. I click on images, scrolling through six before I spot my father. He's shaking hands with some people in one photo, in another he is standing at a podi
um, a few he is in pictures along with the Chief of Police, who is making a speech.
I keep clicking and clicking and it becomes pretty tedious but I decide to keep at it. Just as I am about to give up and try another tactic, something catches my eye. I lean in, trying to get a better look. I click on the image to make it bigger, then I click print, grabbing it from the tray the minute the machine lets go. Holding it under the light I’m able to make out my father’s table off to the right of the picture. He is sitting beside a woman. His body is blocking hers, but I can see her wrist and there it is—that bracelet again. I rub my head, trying to take in what I’m seeing. Not only had this woman taken a photo of me, but at two different events since I’ve been kidnapped she’s been spotted with my father. What the hell! I need a break to clear my head. I know something isn’t right here and I’m not really sure what to make of the whole thing. I need time to mull it over. I scribble down the number for the event coordinator and leave the room.
***
I find myself in the kitchen measuring out ingredients for my mother’s famous chocolate chip cookies. I tripled the batch, knowing one would hardly be enough. I love baking; I love how my brain goes to idle mode and lets my hands do all the work.
“The guys mentioned that they smelt something good but I think I may have died and gone to heaven.” Keith snatches a cookie off the cooling rack shoving it in his mouth. “Mmmmm, warm cookies.”
I laugh, pouring him a glass of milk.
“Thanks.” He takes a swig. “Damn, those are good, Savi!” He takes another.
“Thanks, I love to bake.”
“I love that you love to bake.” He grins.
I transfer the last twelve cookies to the rack, not looking at him.