“Esposa,” I heard him say in Spanish quickly and glance back at the BMW. Wasn’t that the Spanish word for wife? I watched his every move as he reached into his backpack and handed the younger of the two men a satchel of some kind. I was pretty sure it contained our airplane tickets to Brazil. Jack zipped up his backpack hugged the young lady again and handed the younger man something else. I guessed it was the keys to the Explorer. I continued to watch and listen as Jack walked to the BMW. I was pretty sure he was going to continue to let me drive, but as quickly as I could, I moved the seat back and maneuvered my body over to the passenger’s side. I am not sure if he saw me shifting seats, but he too shifted and moved to the driver’s side of the car. I unlocked the car door and he slid into his seat.
Jack smiled at me and put the car in reverse and with the ease of a Nascar driver, he headed back in the direction we came. I stared out the passenger’s side window and said nothing. I watched as the sun slowly rose. The dark, morning sky was fading in the west and I reached down for my purse for sun glasses, knowing I would need them. But I quickly realized that my purse was not there. Instead the purse Jack had bought for me the day before was there and there were no sunglasses.
I could hear Jack’s breathing. He continued to drive North, I assumed out of the Phoenix area. I shifted in my seat and laid my head back on the head rest. It was going to be a long journey to Oregon I only wished I had requested a book or something to read. I took in a big breath of air and held it for a few seconds and slowly let it out through my nose. Jack turned to look at me. “You ok?”
I nodded.
“It’s going to be ok, I promise Sonny.” He removed his hand off the steering wheel and put it gently on mine which lay on the seat next to my leg. His touch sent tingles up my arm and down my body. His hand was warm, and soft. His fingers wrapped around mine and he squeezed them in encouragement. And then his hand was gone. In the brief second after he had pulled it away, I wanted desperately to grab it back and hold his hand in response. When he touched me I felt safe. He put his hand back on the steering wheel and continued to drive.
The longer we sat in silence, the more time I had to think about all the unanswered questions I had. For the last few days I had trusted the man I barely knew with my life. I really didn’t know anything about him and the curiosity was getting to me.
“Who were those people?” I barely whispered. He continued to drive and did not answer me right away. For a moment I thought he had not heard the question. As I was about to muster up the courage to ask the question again, this time louder, he opened his mouth.
“Our decoys. They are old friends of mine from a previous life. Javier and his wife have graciously accepted my offer of a free vacation to South America.”
I wanted to ask so many questions based on his response but I did not. Instead I just nodded. He continued though. “They are going to drive the Explorer down to Mexico City and take a flight to Rio, pretending to be us.” I thought about it for a few minutes and although I was extremely grateful, I was scared for the people who were pretending to be us.
“If these people chasing us – them, realize they aren’t us, will they hurt them?”
“They are pros Sonny. They can take care of themselves. I promise you they will be safe.” Jack turned to look at me. He smiled a reassuring smile. He was full of lots of reassurance and I wished I shared his confidence. I looked down in silence. There were lots of things I wanted to ask, I just wasn’t sure he would answer my questions. After a few minutes, I looked up at him and watched as he drove. The sun was up in the Western sky now, but the car was still dark. I could barely make out the expression on his face.
He shifted in his seat, obviously noticing I was watching him. He put his left arm on the door, and drove with only his right arm and ran his fingers through his brown hair. In the light of the day yesterday I noticed a stray gray hair. It looked distinguished and once again my mind filled with questions.
Finally the curiosity got the best of me and I couldn’t help it. I opened my mouth and started to spit out the words, but stopped. He looked at me puzzled.
“What?” He said with a smirk. “Do you have something to say?”
“How old are you?”
He looked at me for a brief moment and then back at the road. His face was complacent. “Does it matter?” I could barely make out the smile.
It really didn’t in the grand scheme of things, “I was just curious.”
J
Her hair had begun to slip out of the clip it was held in. A piece had fallen against her cheek and I wanted desperately to sweep it off her face, just as an excuse to touch her. She sat in the seat next to me nervous moving constantly. One minute her right leg was under her other leg, the next she was sitting cross legged in the seat. Her hands started out folded in her lap and minutes later her elbow was on the car door and her other hand was on her the seat next to her. I couldn’t quite understand her constant need to move. I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or just her.
I had to admit though, her question about my age surprised me, but I didn’t let her see that surprise. It seemed like an odd question. I knew the questions would come eventually, but I didn’t think my age would be the first one. I hesitated for a second before I answered. If I told her the truth, I was sure she would cringe, especially if she thought 25 was old maid age. But I figured the truth was best. “Thirty Eight,” I confessed. I hoped desperately she didn’t think that was old.
She nodded in acknowledgement. Was that old to her I thought? My mind raced as I drove. It was hard to concentrate and before I realized it, I was doing 100 mph on the highway. I let my foot off the gas for just a few seconds, enough to slow it down and not get pulled over for a speeding ticket. “Am I old?” I finally asked.
A smile pursed her lips as she continued to stare at the road ahead of us. I could barely hear her mumbled answer of no and after that the silence continued. I wasn’t sure if she was taking it in, or if she was thinking about her next question. “What else do you want to know,” I finally blurted out. It was bothering me she was being so quiet. “I will tell you what I can.” I paused for a moment and let it sink in. I know she had a lot of questions and I was going to let her ask them. It didn’t mean she would get the response she wanted or even expected. “You know if I tell you something classified, I will have to kill you.” I said it completely serious and glanced to see the look on her face. She turned away and out the window at the desert landscape. The morning sun was bright and I could see she was squinting even with the dark tinted windows. Sunglasses were next on the list of things to get her and maybe a book or two.
It took her a few minutes before she finally answered me. “Is Jack even your real name?”
Even though I used several assumed names, Jack was my real name, well at least part of it anyway. “My name is Jonathan Jackson O’Brien. In my normal life, I use Jack. Next question?”
She sighed in some sort of relief. “Thank you. For some reason I had a vision of you using a fake name with me.”
I shrugged my shoulders, “I like my name. I don’t always use my real name, but with you, I didn’t think it was fair not to use my given name.”
“I appreciate that,” she responded and shifted again in her seat. This time she moved so her body faced more towards me. I could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She reached up and took the clip out of her hair and it fell around her shoulders. I took a deep drag of her scent, somewhere between lavender and freesia and it was intoxicating.
She again sat in silence, I was sure she was contemplating what to ask next. I wanted desperately to tell her everything she wanted to know, but I knew that wasn’t the smartest thing to do.
She took another deep breath before she asked her next question. “Are you married?” I cringed at the question as memories of Paige danced through my head. I could hear her voice in my head. It was so calm and sweet and it made me miss her. I missed her level head, her s
mile and the way she tried to accept me for who I was. Our marriage had not been the greatest, tumultuous at best. But I had cared for her deeply. By the end of it, she was more of my friend than anything else. I sat there and thought about it and replayed images of my marriage to Paige in my head. I had not realized that quite a bit of time had passed since she had asked her question until she spoke again. “Does she know where you are?”
Her words were almost a whisper, barely audible.
“What?”
“Does she know where you are?” She asked me again, this time her voice a little stronger.
This time I did not wait to answer her question. “She died a little over a year ago of breast cancer. “
“I’m sorry,” again her voice was barely audible. She was embarrassed I could tell but I didn’t want her to be. She didn’t know so I couldn’t blame her for asking the question or for drudging up memories I had parked so far into the back of my mind it was sad.
I really wanted the conversation to be over, but it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know. I had to remember she didn’t have a file to refer to when she wanted to know about me. I at least wanted her to change the subject. “Any other questions, not relating to my marital status?”
She removed her hand much to my dismay and shrugged. “I guess,” She sighed, “What do you want to tell me.”
I shook my head in annoyance. “No,” I stated matter of factly, “I don’t easily give information. Ask me a question and I may or may not answer it. But I am not going to sit here and tell you my life story.” My tone was rude and I instantly felt bad once the words came out.
Sonny snorted in frustration. “It’s ok for me to ask you questions and you may choose to answer them or you may not. But, God forbid I ask you to volunteer information. You bite my head off. I don’t understand you Jack.” She shifted once again in her seat, pulling her leg out from under her bottom and putting both feet in front of her. She crossed her arms almost looking annoyed with me.
“Can you be still for more than five minutes Alison,” I blurted out angrily. She didn’t know how detrimental it would be for me to tell her more than she needed to know. She would suddenly become even more of a target if she did. Paige knew very little about me, and she had accepted that. But with Alison things were different.
Her head turned immediately to face me and the look on her face was devastating. There was ice in her emerald eyes. There was anger, frustration, and more anger. I continued to watch the road in front of me as I refused to glance in her direction, knowing full well I would most likely incur her angry wrath. As we traveled on, I could feel her icy glare on me. I didn’t quite know what else to say so I said nothing.
15 Silence is Torture
Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours as we continued down the highway toward Las Vegas. I stopped at a truck stop in Kingman, Arizona to get some coffee and I had a feeling she needed to use the restroom. It was only a feeling, because she never indicated it in the car. Matter of fact the silence had been so deafening at one point, I had to turn on music. Luckily I had a few choice cd’s to listen to.
She continued to fidget as we drove. She wasn’t going to stop. I could tell she wasn’t doing it on purpose, it was nervousness and the fact she was stuck in the car with me. And it was not her fidgeting that made me angry as much as it was the fact, she did it when she was nervous or scared. What angered me the most was the fact I couldn’t make those feelings go away. I couldn’t make her calm or not worry about things.
She followed me into the truck stop with her head down and as soon as she noticed the sign for the ladies room, she walked away from me. I stood a few feet away from its entrance, ensuring no one who looked suspicious followed her in. Although I was pretty sure they had not picked up on our location, I had to be cautious, none the less. And it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to make sure she wasn’t going to run away from me. Her glare was still icy cold.
I stood there and watched people go in and out of the restrooms. Someone from every walk of life had walked into this truck stop. There were of course your truckers, but there were tourists on their way to try and win big. There were families traveling with kids and there was a parking lot full of RV’s carting around retired couples looking for peace and relaxation. It seemed like an eternity before she finally walked out. I almost missed her as she had put her hair back into the twist at the top of her head. The hair was tighter and I was not likely to see bits of it falling into her face giving me the opportunity to touch her. That was probably a good thing as I figured she would slap me if I had tried to touch her now. The icy glare was still present as she walked out of the bathroom. I walked over to the coffee area and poured myself a cup. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her holding a bottle of water. I also noticed her looking at magazines and books. It was then I realized that she had to be bored. Our conversation had come to a screeching halt and she was fidgeting relentlessly in her seat. It was not merely distracting but frustrating.
I took a deep breath and walked over to where she stood. “Pick a few things out. We have a long drive and as long as you are mad at me, you might as well have something to read.” I looked at her sincerely. I really didn’t want her to be bored.
“It wouldn’t be so quiet if you answered a few of my questions for once,” she retorted grabbing a book and a few magazines. She breezed past me in pure anger. I couldn’t help it but the corners of my mouth turned up in a smile and a soft chuckle rolled off my chest. I followed past her to the counter, still with a grin. When I reached her at the counter, she wouldn’t look at me as I paid for them. She only mumbled a thank you and grabbed her few things before she headed toward the exit.
The scruffy looking old man who stood in line behind me laughed, “Bad karma when the wife is mad at you on a long trip.”
I smirked and walked away. She may not have been my wife, but it was bad karma to have an angry woman in the car with me.
She was careful though not to go more than a few steps ahead of me. And as she walked out the door, she scanned the parking Lot. I am sure she didn’t know what she was looking for, but the fact she even scanned, had me impressed and proud.
Things didn’t change when we reached the BMW. I filled up the tank, got in and let the silence envelope me once again. I realized that she was going to remain silent until I took the steps to break it. I wasn’t ready to do that yet. I was still unsure how much I should tell her. I wasn’t sure where the line was drawn. As much as I wanted her to know things, I couldn’t let myself get close to her. At least that is what I needed to keep reminding myself of.
A
I knew I was acting like a three year old holding her breath until she turned purple and passed out. But I didn’t care. I was mad as hell for his lack of forthcoming answers. I didn’t want to know everything about him. I just felt so stupid not knowing anything about him and trusting him as I did. And it wasn’t fair he knew everything about me, even down to my clothes size.
I knew it was childish of me to act in such a way. I wasn’t normally one to throw fits or temper tantrums. I had always been pretty even keeled and often times people told me it was because I was the middle child. I had also been told numerous times I was stubborn. And this was a fact I relished as I sat in the car and watched him out of the corner of my eye drive down the long desert highway. I could and I would remain silent as long as I needed to.
I reached for the book I had put on the floor of the car. I couldn’t even remember what I had picked. But I hoped desperately it was interesting as it was going to be a long car ride. I tried to read the first page, and I think I read it four or five times, but absorbed nothing. I shifted once again in my seat and as I did I caught a glance of his face. I expected annoyance as once again I was moving around in the seat. Apparently my fidgety nature bothered the hell out of him. I almost thought about purposely moving around in my seat more but I figured that would be pushing it. But as I glanced over to see the look on his
face, instead I saw a man in deep thought. He was so enveloped in them he looked like they were physically hurting him. Finally his expression softened a little. And he opened his mouth to speak. But he closed it quickly as if to carefully choose his words.
“I was born in DC, and moved to Ireland when I was four. My father was an Irish Diplomat, my mother an American. We lived there until he was assassinated by some member of the IRA in Belfast. Mom and I moved back to the states when I was 17. It was too hard for her to live in Ireland without him. I went to Gonzaga and have a degree in International Relations. I thought I would follow in the old man’s footsteps, diplomacy. Instead I joined the Marines, served in the first Gulf War, came home and well went to work for a government agency. I was married for a short time and as you know she died. So there you have it, my life in a nutshell.”
I sat there shocked at his revelation. Although his revelation took no more than a minute, it took me another five before I could say anything in response. “Thank you.”
I was suddenly grateful for him opening up just a little. His little bit of information made me feel important to him. It made me feel like I mattered enough for him to share something with me. I wasn’t entirely sure why that was so important to me, but it was. The silence continued, but instead of reading I sat and watched him.
Finally he spoke again. “Well I opened up you can talk to me again.” His tone was joking, but serious all in the same manner. He looked at me and raised his eyebrow. “Well?” His face was smug.
The Protector Page 18