Creeping Beautiful, Book 1

by J. A. Huss

  It’s just a little brick carriage house that used to belong to my great-grandfather. Nate’s great-grandfather worked for my family back in the day and was gifted the house and a few acres around it when he retired. But there’s a well-worn path that leads from here to there, and I’m traveling down it when I spy Nate out in his backyard splitting wood.

  He’s taller now than he was last summer when I first took notice of him. And his ax-swing has form, splitting that wood easily. He’s got the ax above his head when he sees me and brings it down hard on the upended log, cracking it neatly in half.

  He pounds the ax head into the dirt near his feet, wipes his brow with the back of his free hand, and leans casually on the ax handle. “What can I do for you, Mr. Boucher?”

  His accent is decidedly Southern. Like mine started to be when I was his age, but which was quickly trained out of me by my father. But it has creeped back in the years since he passed.

  “You can call me Adam,” I say, walking up to him.

  “No, sir. My grandfather would not like that too much.”

  I shrug with my hands. “Where is he?” Meaning his grandfather. “Indie said he was sick. I hope he’s OK.”

  “He’s fine. Just… resting today.”

  Which is kind of a lie. I know the old man was diagnosed with emphysema a few years back and it’s hard to miss the truck that delivers oxygen tanks twice a month.

  Still, it’s a polite lie. So maybe it doesn’t count.

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “No.” I say it bluntly. “I’m here to talk about Indie.”

  “OK. What should we talk about?”

  “We should talk about…” I hesitate. Because he’s twelve. And Indie will throw a fit if she finds out I’m having this conversation with Nate. “She’s a girl.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But she’s not an ordinary girl.”

  “Yes, sir. I know that.”

  “And you should not make any plans with her.”

  Nate makes a look of confusion at this statement. “What kind of plans?”

  “Future plans. Girlfriend plans.”

  Nate laughs. “No, sir. She’s just my best friend. Not my girl.”

  “I know that, Nate. And that’s because you’re both still very young. But in a year or two you will feel differently. And I’d just like to head that off at the pass, if I can. Because even though Indie is a girl, she’s not girlfriend material.”

  I get another confused look from Nathan St. James so I decide to just spell it out. “Do not kiss my…” I pause, trying to come up with a term that adequately explains what Indie is to me. “Do not kiss my Indie. Do not hold her hand. Do not fall in love with her. Do not plan a future with her. She is not that kind of girl.”

  Nate just stares at me, face blank, stance relaxed. Then he says, “Can I fish with her?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about swim?”

  “If you’re wearing clothes.”

  He laughs and looks away. “Of course we wear clothes.”

  “You can do all the things you two do. Just keep it… innocent.” It’s a bad word choice. Something a man would understand but not a boy. “Does that make sense, Nate?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” I suck in a deep breath. Let it out. Decide I’m done here and turn back to the path through the woods. But then I stop and look over my shoulder. “Don’t tell her I was here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  And then I walk home, thinking it was a dumb idea to have that talk with Nate. Because love doesn’t have rules and these two passed the point of no return the moment they met last summer.

  They will love each other no matter what I say or do to dissuade them.

  And, I’m sorry to say, that’s very bad news for Nathan St. James.

  When Indie and McKay get back from church she changes her clothes and disappears into the woods and I take McKay aside for a quick chat. “Start her real training tomorrow.”

  He gives me a thoughtful look. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure. I want her on the job in six months.”

  “I dunno.” McKay rubs a hand over his clean-shaven jaw as he considers this. “Six months? Why?”

  “Because I’m tired of working alone and that’s the whole reason I bought her.”

  Then I turn my back to him and go inside to my office, close the door, and get back to the business at hand.

  Core McKay and I grew up together. He’s from Alaska, not Louisiana. His father was an arms dealer for the Company up there and normally that would mean that one day he would take his father’s place. Keep the family business going.

  But McKay had two older brothers so his future wasn’t written in stone. My father and I were up in Alaska when I was ten and McKay was nine to coordinate with another Untouchable Company man about a job that was coming up in the Ukraine.

  And I took to McKay. He was as tall as me, even though I was older. And we kinda resembled each other with the light hair, and the light eyes, and the build of our lean bodies back then. So my father bought him for me and he came home with us.

  Not to Old Home. Back then this mansion was nothing but an old mess and while we did spend summers there before McKay came, afterward we lived in New Orleans in a big old house in the French Quarter. I didn’t go to school, I had private tutors. This was common among the Untouchable families. So when McKay came to live with us I suddenly had a best friend and a classmate, when every day prior to that one, I had been alone.

  This is how I know that Nate and Indie will be bonded forever.

  She is who she is. Lonely, and sad, and tough, and eager for a friend.

  Just like me.

  And Nate, though not Company the way McKay was, is just like him.

  Desperate for more.

  And even though Nathan St. James is only twelve years old, and even though he doesn’t know it yet, living next door to Indie Anna Accorsi will be the highlight of his life.

  People don’t walk away from that.

  Just ask McKay.

  And this bond is something special.

  Just ask me.

  I love McKay. I would die for McKay.

  If McKay walks away, I go with him.

  My father bought McKay for me back when he was nine for one reason only. To be me. To take my place. We were never going to be friends.

  At least… that was my understanding.

  But even the best laid plans have bumps.

  Once it was clear that McKay would be staying with me, my father and I sat down for a very serious conversation about what that meant.

  “He is yours now, Adam,” my father said. “Forever. In every way. And if there is a thing in this world that threatens to break you apart, you need to eliminate that thing. He is the only person in this whole wide world that you owe loyalty to. His loyalty was bought so yours must be given freely.”

  I guess it makes sense. I get the feeling that McKay was holding a few secrets for my father. I get the feeling that my father was trying to protect his own ass, as well as mine.

  But I never had that kind of conversation with Indie when I bought her. I guess I didn’t think this pledge of loyalty needed to be stated outright the way my father did.

  There might’ve been a natural tendency for McKay and I to cultivate an adversarial attitude towards one another. It would’ve been natural, given the circumstances.

  But Indie and I never did have that kind of relationship.

  Of course she has my loyalty. I’m on her side. Always.

  But is she on mine?

  And how does McKay fit in?

  There’s no rulebook that spells all this out.

  For now, I guess it’s fine. We’re all on the same side.

  But if McKay owes me, and I owe him, and Indie owes me, and I owe her—then what happens when we’re not on the same side anymore?

  “Indie Anna!” McKay is yelling from the bottom of the stairs. He shoots me
an apologetic look. “Sorry. I told her to be ready. She said she was.”

  “She’s a storyteller, McKay. When are you gonna understand that?”

  He points his finger at me. “Do not yell at her. I’m telling you, she’ll be fine as long as you keep your cool. But if you yell at her, she’ll shut down and stop listening. So no matter what happens, you tell her it’s all fine.”

  “What if it’s not fine?”

  “You lie to her, Adam. Jesus Christ. You’re the best liar I know. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

  “I can hear you, ya know.”

  McKay and I look up and find Indie at the top of the stairs.

  “I’m not a kid, for fuck’s sake.”

  “You are a damn kid,” I growl at her. “And don’t you cuss in front of me. Now get your ass down here and put your shit in the truck.”

  Indie opens her mouth to talk back, but McKay beats her to it. “Do as you’re told, Indie. We’re not playing. It’s time to work.”

  She walks down the stairs dragging her pink roller-case behind her so that it bumps with a loud thud on each and every step. She simultaneously glares at me and pouts at McKay. Which is a hard thing to pull off, but Indie never was afraid of doing something hard.

  I roll my eyes at McKay, then walk to the door and give them a minute for any last words.

  Just as I’m pushing through the screen I hear McKay whisper to her. “Be good. And do as you’re told. And if Adam yells at you, you have to ignore it. He’s just…”

  But that’s all I hear because I’m outside now, hopping down the porch steps.

  I get in the truck and start the engine. It takes Indie a couple more minutes before she joins me. McKay puts her small suitcase in the back cab, then buckles her in to her seatbelt in the front next me.

  He gives me a little two-finger salute. “See ya on the other side.”

  Then he closes Indie’s door, taps the side of the truck with his hand two times, and we pull away.

  Indie and I don’t do much alone. I mean, without McKay. I’m the one who takes her to church. McKay doesn’t really care for church. So we drive into town for that alone. But other than that we’re not usually alone and at first the silence is uncomfortable.

  I don’t know how to talk to her. I didn’t have sisters growing up. Just McKay. And I don’t really talk to the girls I’m with. Not even Misha. We just screw around and she cooks for me sometimes, but the whole reason I like Misha is because she keeps to herself. The sex is the only thing between us and she’s happy with that.

  “You wanna play a game?”

  I look over at Indie when she says this. We’re on a road trip because we’re only going to Pensacola for this job. It’s an easy one because it’s Indie’s first time out. All she has to do is what she’s been told. If everything goes well, we’ll be home tomorrow before lunch. Donovan is flying in tomorrow afternoon for her debrief, and by tomorrow evening she’ll be back playing in the woods with Nate.

  “What kind of game?” I ask her.

  “Driving games. Nate told me all about them.”

  “Did you tell him what we’re doing?”

  “No. I told him you were taking me to see our aunt.”

  I chuckle. This girl can lie like nobody’s business.

  “I wouldn’t tell him secrets like that, Adam. Do you wanna play a game or not?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “OK. This is how you do it…”

  And she takes her time to explain the rules of the Slug Bug game. Which I have played before with McKay, of course. But there aren’t enough Bugs on the road these days to have any fun at it. So we change the rules to include motorcycles when thirty minutes into the trip not a single punch has been slugged.

  She laughs a lot and punches me hard when she spots a Bug or a motorcycle before me and I realize… I like her.

  I would not call her a bad kid and I have always respected her, but like her?

  Indie Anna Accorsi is not an easy girl to like.

  But her smile is nice. She doesn’t smile for me the way she smiles for Donovan, or even McKay when he hands out praise. But that’s OK too. Because this smile is all mine.

  PRESENT DAY

  But by the time that job was over I realized something else too.

  I loved her.

  I guess that’s what happens when you get used to something and then someone tries to take it away from you.

  Because our trip home from Pensacola was two days later than planned and Indie Anna didn’t smile a single second of that ride.

  She didn’t cry, either. But I could tell she wanted to.

  And I did exactly what McKay told me to do if things went sideways. I did not yell. Not once. I just said, “It’s fine, Indie. It’s gonna be fine,” in the most soothing voice I could manage as I watched the Company doctor restrain her to the bed and fix her up.

  And the game we played on the drive home was a new one called Let’s Pretend That Didn’t Happen.

  Knowing what I do now, I probably wouldn’t have played that game with her.

  I probably would’ve done a lot of things differently if I had known how good she’d get at pretending shit didn’t happen.

  But hindsight can kiss my ass. You can’t change the past.

  Indie Anna Accorsi is a beautiful little mess. She is a lovely little bundle of blonde hair and blue-eyed darkness. And even though I should have all kinds of regrets about how she came to be mine and how we came to be hers, I would absolutely do it all again.

  Knowing her now, I wouldn’t change a thing.

  Because if all those terrible things hadn’t happened, she would belong to him right now. She would be living in that little brick house with Nathan St. James.

  She would be whole, and normal, and maybe even happier.

  And my heart would be shattered into tiny shards. Millions of bitty pieces.

  So yeah.

  I’m a selfish piece of shit.

  But I want what I want.

  That’s the only way I can explain it.

  Maybe she didn’t become mine the day of the auction, but the day that asshole triggered her without my permission, she did.

  She is.

  CHAPTER EIGHT - DONOVAN

  MIND CONTROL IN CHILDREN: A CASE STUDY OF COMPANY ASSASSINS

  INTERVIEW WITH INDIE, AGE 11.10

  SESSION #19

  INDIE: Well?

  DONOVAN: Well, what?

  Aren’t you going to talk?

  This is your chance to talk, Indie.

  I know that, but you’re in charge and you’ve been sitting there for seventy-six seconds saying nothing.

  Seventy-six?

  I counted.

  I’m waiting for you. Adam said you stopped talking again. I didn’t want to rush you. But… first. Are you OK? Do they… hurt?

  I guess I’m OK. I’m still alive. And I’m not sure if they hurt. I guess when I move, they do. It stings. And I can feel the stitches pulling. But I know why we’re here.

  This time is no different than all the other times.

  It is. Because I did the job. And it wasn’t a job, Donovan. Did he tell you that?

  What do you mean?

  Or maybe that’s not the best way to explain it. It was… it was an inside job.

  Inside what?

  The Company. He took me to a meeting with another team leader and then he told me I had to steal something from his hotel room while he kept him busy.

  I’m confused. Was this the job you prepared for?

  No.

  So he…

  Yes. And he didn’t tell me that there were two men, not just one. And the other guy was already there when I entered the room.

  Then what happened?

  Then… then we fought. But he pushed me down on the ground face first and cut me. And then… then I passed out, I guess. I don’t know.

  …

  Say something.

  Sorry. I’m just thinking. How did
you get away?

  I didn’t get away. Adam came. I guess. I don’t know. I woke up in some creepy garage tied to a bed.

  OK. Hold on. Go back. Because Adam didn’t tell me any of this. He said you got hurt, but… so… can you try a little harder to remember exactly what happened in that hotel room? What did the man say when he caught you?

  …

  Indie?

  I’m thinking.

  …

  Start from the beginning. When you entered the room. What do you remember?

  It was dark in the room. It was bigger than I had pictured in my head. It was a suite with a bedroom and a dining area and a bar. So when I went in I hid in a corner so my eyes could adjust. I waited two minutes and then I could see in the shadows. No one was there. I was supposed to check the bedroom first.

  Who told you that?

  Adam did. He said look in the bedroom first. But I decided to check the bar first.

  Why?

  I dunno. I just wanted to check that whole room first and none of the tables had drawers so the only place to look was behind the bar on the far side of the room.

  It was a real bar? Like a big bar? Not a minibar?

  No. It was a bar with shelves and stuff behind it. But no alcohol on the shelves. Just glassware. But when I went around the bar to look there was a man crouched down.

  What did he look like?

  I don’t know. I can’t remember his face. But I saw him and then the next thing I knew I was holding a knife and I tried to cut him, but I couldn’t.