Reed

by Mariska Hutchence

  “Des?” He asks before he leaves the office.

  I nod.

  “Take care of yourself. We like your smiling face around here.”

  I nod again, this time with a smile. “Thanks, Chief.”

  ___

  Ted jumps happily into my arms, about to burst with excitement as I come in through the front door. The little Jack is probably going to have a heart attack, I think. At least Clark didn’t change the locks.

  It takes me a little to settle down the hyper mutt, but from there I start to pack a few essentials. The plan is to be gone by the end of the night. I had ordered tickets for the last flight to Guatemala City last night before my time with Reed had been over. The long delay in Houston would give me a little bit of time to mentally prepare myself to possibly never come back home.

  “Don’t think about that part now, Des. Get your shit and go.” I tell myself. Ted rubs against my leg and I reach down, cuddling his eager little body. “I’m sorry for this, bud. I really am.”

  I hear the front door open and I have the momentary realization that I didn’t even hear a car in the driveway. A moment later, Clark is standing in the doorway, his eyes on the bag on the bed.

  “Please come back, Des.” He says, softly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  The most painful thing for me is that I know each and every one of his words are the truth. He’s never wanted anything but the best for me, and were things different, I’d be the luckiest girl in the world to have him. Unfortunately, things are different. I’m different and there’s no way I’m ever going to be the girl he loves again.

  “I don’t want to do this, Clark. I just wanted to get my stuff.” I say, trying to keep the firm edge to my voice I use when we’re arguing. A part of me is telling me that I should make him hate me so the whole thing is easier on him. It makes it harder on me, but part of me feels like I deserve it.

  Fuck that. I deserve real happiness…don’t I?

  “Can we just talk for a little bit?” He says. “Even if it’s just as friends?”

  His words hit me hard. “Clark…”

  “At least take your time to pack and don’t just run off.” He says. “I’m not going to stop you, Des. I can only ask.”

  The tears of my built-up guilt are threating to overflow and I know that he’s seeing it; the crack in my walled-up ice queen persona. Reed is in my thoughts, but I’m feeling pretty down about what I’m doing to the man standing in front of me. Ted goes over to him, licking his hand as he offers it.

  “You two seem to be getting along better.” I say. It is hardly a whisper.

  “Are you taking him?”

  Funny, that’s what it takes to set the waterworks in motion. I feel the first big tear rolling down my cheek.

  “Once I get on my feet.” I can see Clark’s own pain in his eyes, which keeps mine right on the surface. I can tell he’s holding back from coming to me, taking me in his arms to bury my tears in his shoulder. He doesn’t, and I find myself wondering what would happen if he did.

  “We’ll survive together until then.” He says, trying his strength. “Won’t we, Ted?”

  Ted looks over to me as Clark pets him, as if wondering why I’m not joining in.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wednesday Night – Des

  If you’re dressed right and act as if you belong, people will let you do anything. It’s something I’ve always subscribed to, and it’s usually the truth. This is going to be a big test of that. I have my e-ticket and passport, but I don’t want the latter to be flagged in the system; at least not yet.

  “Can I help you, Miss?” The TSA guy is looking at me, and I blush, both from the way he’s looking at me, and because I know it will help with the act.

  “I’m sorry.” I say, trying to put on my damsel-in-distress clothes. “I need to get to the gates, but I’m new at this.” I hand over my FBI credentials. “New agent, that is. They just sent me to keep an eye out for someone at the gates.”

  He’s looking at it closely, and I’m hoping this isn’t an everyday occurrence. I know it helps my act that it’s true; I really don’t know the normal FBI process for this. “They’ll flag his passport if you want to go up to the security office and wait.” He smiles, handing me back my wallet.

  “We think he’s got a fake passport, so it won’t help much. My Agent-In-Charge wants there to be eyeballs on the gate.” I say, giving the attitude that I’m disagreeing with the orders. It seems to strike a chord in him.

  “Which gate?” He asks, but I don’t sense anything in his voice that concerns me.

  “He’ll be heading to South America, most likely. Probably Belize.”

  “That’ll be in the 30’s.” He says. “You’re lucky. You’ll actually be able to see most of the gates at the same time. There’s a little corridor that leads in, so once you check that he’s not there, you can hang out and see everyone going that direction.”

  He smiles and I smile back even bigger. “Maybe you’re wasted on the TSA…Perkins.” I say, my eyes only going to his badge for a moment. “I appreciate it, and so does the Bureau.”

  It has the desired effect, and I throw my bag over my shoulder.

  “You could leave that here if you’d like.” He says.

  I pat the bag, which contains cash, a few changes of clothes, and my passport. “You never know when you’re going to need…something.” I say, trying to hint.

  “Good luck Agent Desjardins.” He says as I just walk on, without him ever affirmatively giving me permission to pass.

  “Thank you, Perkins. I’ll make sure to give your name to my AIC.”

  The beaming smile I get makes me smile, for real this time as I head to the gates.

  Finally, I’m relaxing in one of the seats in front of my boarding gate, ticket in hand. The clerk informed me that I had missed the e-ticket check-in, so went ahead and ran it for me. I didn’t really miss it, I just wanted my name to stay out of the system as long as possible. The wait seems like an eternity and my mind is definitely on Reed. At least twice I’ve craned my neck to see a guy that resembles him, only to have the disappointment set in. Really, there’s little chance that he’ll be here.

  My stress level is through the roof, but this I can handle. Boarding is a breeze, my bag is stuffed in one of the bins, and life is good. Only a few people are still moving around and the fasten seatbelts sign has already pinged itself into my attention.

  Apparently, this new life I’m leading isn’t going to be easy, though. The First-Class attendant barely closes the curtain separating the haves from the have-nots when it opens once more. It’s Agent Dawkins. I can feel my face flush just as my heart drops, watching those eyes scan the cabin until they light on me.

  “Agent Desjardins.” He says from a few rows up. “I’m going to have to ask you to accompany me.”

  Everything in me wants to fight, to run; but there’s no chance of any of that. I’m so fucking screwed.

  ___

  “I had hoped that it wouldn’t come with this, Des.” Cisneros says from his office chair. Hell, at least I’m not in the interrogation room. Yet.

  “Sir, I…”

  “Shut it, Desjardins.” He says. “Why shouldn’t I bring you up on charges? Don’t answer that. Fuck.” I can see the frustration in his face as if even he doesn’t know what to do with me. “Damn it, Des. What the fuck is going on with you?”

  I look at him, and a moment later he realizes and gives me the go-ahead.

  “I’m sorry, Alex.” I don’t think the familiarity is going to help, but the sentiment is real, and it’s personal. “I know this looks bad. Hell, it is bad, but I’ve got my reasons behind it.”

  He looks over the desk at me, his tired face switching from compassion to anger in fits and spells. “You helped Calhoun walk out of here, didn’t you?”

  The fact that I don’t answer effectively answers his question. I can see it on his face.

  “Fuck, Des. You should have gone to t
he therapist. Shit, there’s even a fucking name for this and you know it.”

  “It’s not that, Chief.” I say.

  “The fuck it’s not!” It’s one of the first times I’ve ever heard him raise his voice. “It’s God damn textbook, Des.” He looks around, his voice taming down towards the end. “Shit, if Clark hadn’t come to me, you’d be out there throwing away your whole fucking career…and more.”

  The mention of Clark makes me sick to my stomach. Of course. Shit, why else would he have come home so early this afternoon; not to mention the way he snuck up on me.

  “Clark isn’t…” I start, but the interruption comes once again.

  “Clark saved your ass, Des. Fuck!” He slams his fist down on the table. “Can’t you see it? Calhoun fucking kidnapped you and now you’re an accessory to a string of Federal offenses.”

  “Sir, I…” I’m actually waiting for the interruptions now.

  “Des, I’m sorry, but it’s late. I need some time to think about this, so you’re going to be detained until the morning.”

  “I understand.” I say. Shit, it’s the least I can do for him at the moment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thursday Morning – Reed

  It’s the sound of the gulls that finally wakes me up. I don’t remember dragging my way to the park bench, but apparently that’s where I spent the morning. I realize I’m clutching an empty bourbon bottle and it takes me a moment to remember that my dazed brain thought that would make me look more like a homeless drunk than an illegal immigrant.

  Putting on my shoes, I see everyday life passing before me. Fit women jogging, some with strollers, businessmen cutting through the little park on the way back to the office. Sometimes it really works me up thinking that everyone you see in the world has their own life; their own story. Occasionally I find myself making them up as I go, imagining the busty blonde jogging by as the ‘other woman’ in a love triangle, hoping that her man finally leaves his wife. The thought makes me wonder what people imagine my story is. They’d probably be way the hell off. I laugh at my own thought and the blonde turns as she goes by. Shit, now I’m the mentally disturbed homeless man.

  Two things buoy me. No, three. I’m in Canada, it’s a beautiful day, and I’m one step closer to the woman that I love. Even that lifts my spirits. Shit, Reed, you’re getting sappy, I think. Honestly, though, nothing has ever been like this. What I feel for Des, well…I just smile as I stand up, feeling the tightness in just about every muscle in my body. Time for a hotel, a real night’s sleep, and then onwards.

  Fourth Avenue. I’m still hiking when a car slows just after it passes me and I see the passengers waving me on. I laugh. Girls to the rescue again. Why didn’t this shit happen to me before?

  “Where you headed?” The cute driver says as I climb in the back between two other girls.

  “Anywhere I can get a room.” I say.

  “You can stay with me at the University.” One of the girls next to me jokingly suggests.

  “Don’t be a slut, Cheryl.” The driver says, but I can see her eyeing me as well. She turns to me. “We can offer a shower, though, and maybe a place to crash for a bit.”

  “I’ll take you up on that. Cal.” I say, offering my hand. Hers is soft and warm.

  ___

  Lake Superior State University. Never heard of it before, but the dorms are nice. After a shower and some food, I convince Lora, the driver, to let me use her computer. Logging onto the forum, there’s nothing new from Des, unfortunately. I hope that she’s made it, but unfortunately I have to worry about me right now, and I’m exhausted and I decide to take the offer for a spot to sleep. The couch is comfortable and it doesn’t take long.

  ___

  I don’t know the details, and it doesn’t matter, but walking off campus a few hours later, a car pulls up. Marisela and Gray. She’s still got a shiner when she hustles me into the car at gunpoint.

  “Fucking sick of your bullshit, Reed.” That’s apparently all Gray has to say to me, because the pair are silent for the rest of the ride.

  The destination is yet another safe house, one that I’m not familiar with, but I really don’t have a clue how big the organization is; it’s not something I needed or wanted to know when I was on the inside looking out. This time, I’m in handcuffs and Gray gives me one or two. I don’t know if he’s making up for Marisela, or what, but it adds to the rough week I’m having.

  “You alright watching him, M?” He asks, turning away from me slumped in the chair. “I’m going to go wait for Duke at the airstrip.”

  Shit. If Duke’s coming personally, it’s bad and I know it.

  “I’ve got it covered. He just caught me off guard last time.” Marisela says. “Not happening again.” The firmness in her voice takes away all hope that I have that I might get her help one more time; for old time’s sake.

  “It’ll be a couple of hours, but you know how it is.” Gray says, jingling the keys into his pocket. “Later, M.”

  The look that passes between them makes me wonder if their partnership has evolved like mine had with her previously. None of my business, I think.

  Marisela closes the blinds after she watches Gray drive off. “Shit, thought I was done with you, Reed.” She says, turning back towards me.

  “I guess I’m a bad penny.”

  “I don’t think I can get away with letting you go again, Loverboy.” She says, going to the fridge and cracking open a beer. She doesn’t offer.

  “Shit, if I could just get my ass on a plane, you’d never fucking see me again.” I say, my tongue tracing the sore spot on the inside of my lip.

  “Yeah, I’m going to make that happen.”

  There’s nothing I can do but stare at her as she props those long legs up on my chair as she reclines on the couch with her beer. I’m comparing her to Des and I don’t want to do that, so I push the thoughts back again.

  “Shit, you think I want you dead?” She asks, draining the majority of the beer. “Duke’s coming in, and you know what that means.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much.”

  “You know, we made a great team, both on the field and off.” She says, heading to the kitchen for another now that the first one has just disappeared.

  “We did at that, Marisela.” I say. It was the truth. Hell, before I met Des I was hoping to rekindle things with the Latina beauty. “Sometimes life gets in the way.”

  The conversation goes on, mostly reminiscing and she’s had enough to loosen up, though if I know her, she’s far from impaired. At this point, those long legs are stretched out over my lap.

  “I’m just trying to come up with a way to do this.” She says, tipping the bottle towards me. “I don’t think they’ll buy you overpowering me again and I’m not really prepared to let you shoot me. Sorry if that make me a bitch.”

  I laugh, but my abs are killing me from the swim so I cringe.

  “Did you really jump a ship into the lake?” She asks.

  “Yeah, nuts, right?”

  She laughs. “Fucking insane. Shit, Reed.”

  The legs pull down and she comes around and takes off the handcuffs.

  “Help me figure this out.” She says, patting the couch next to her as she sits.

  I’m feeling a little uncomfortable, but I don’t want to make any waves. We’re probably pretty evenly matched, but not in the condition I’m in right now. I’ve got my own plan; a pretty fucking stupid one, but I’ve got to bide my time.

  “You could skip the country with me.”

  Marisela laughs and swings those legs up over mine once again. “Fuck no. Hell, one more big score and I’m planning my early retirement. I don’t want to spend it looking over my damn shoulder for Duke and his asshole cronies.”

  I nod, trying not to look down at those legs.

  “You afraid of me, Reed?” She asks.

  “Is anyone not?”

  She chokes on her beer, smiling. “You do know how to talk to a lady, don’t
you, California?”

  “I do my best.”

  She sits up, coming a little closer to me. “Maybe one for the road?” She says, suggestively, her hand sliding down her own knee and onto my thigh.

  My mind is torn between the need to get out of here and the thought of Des. Marisela is my ticket to getting back to the one I love, but the feelings are just too strong.

  “We don’t have enough time.” I say, trying to hedge things a little bit.

  “Hell, we’ve got hours and you never were the Marathon Man. Afterwards I can drive you to the airport or somewhere. You flying out?”

  “That was the plan.” I say, then laugh. “And for the record, you could have set some world records yourself. Remember that time in Philadelphia?”

  The hand is still on my thigh and I can feel the warmth of it through my jeans as she squeezes. “Okay, I’ll give you that, Reed. Much better than…” She fades off.

  “Gray?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Reed.” She says, leaning in for a kiss. Those lips are gorgeous, and I see those chocolate brown eyes gently close as she approaches.

  The head-butt lights up my vision with stars, but Marisela crumples over, bent at the waist. I gently press her back to the couch before I put the handcuffs to good use.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry, Marisela.” I say as I hoist her over my shoulder and into the back bedroom. She’s going to be out for a while. I connect one of the cuffs to the ancient iron bedframe after I settle her in.

  In a flash, I’m back in the living room, picking her keys up off the table. Two car keys. I might just be in luck…

  The garage is disappointingly empty, though. I had been hoping that there would be a ‘house car’, like some of the other safe houses had. Unfortunately, the car Gray drove off in was probably the only one.

  I look out the window and see nothing. Hell, from what I saw on the ride we’re at least a couple of miles from the nearest neighbor. I consider the woods, but my body is definitely telling me no. I feel bad about it, but I just didn’t see any way she was going to take me to an airport; this had probably been the best thing for her.