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Before He Covets (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 3)

Page 2

by Blake Pierce


  Bryers joined them as they gathered together at the bench. He then reached into his pocket and withdrew the five hundred dollars that he had been holding for them—cash they had all contributed to the pot. He handed it over to Mackenzie and said:

  “Was there really ever any doubt, guys?”

  “Good work, Mac,” Cousins said. “I’d rather it was you take me out than one of these jokers.”

  “Thanks, I think,” Mackenzie said.

  “I hate to sound like an old fart,” Bryers said, “but it’s nearly one in the morning. Get home and get some rest. All of you. Please don’t come to graduation all tired and out of it.”

  That bizarre feeling of happiness spread through Mackenzie again. This was her group of friends—a group of friends she had come to know well ever since returning to a somewhat normal life following McGrath’s little experiment with her nine weeks ago.

  Tomorrow, they’d all be graduating from the academy, and, if everything shook out the way it was supposed to, they’d all be agents within the following week. While Harry, Cousins, and Shawn had no delusions about starting their careers off on illustrious cases, Mackenzie had more to look forward to…namely, the special group of agents McGrath had mentioned to her in the days following her last unexpected case. She still had no idea what that entailed, but she was excited about it nonetheless.

  As their small group broke up and went on their separate ways, Mackenzie felt something else that she had not felt in quite some time. It was the sense that the future was still very much ahead of her, still unfolding and within her reach. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt like she had a great deal of control over the direction in which it was headed.

  *

  Mackenzie looked at the bruise on Harry’s chest and even though she knew her first emotion should have been compassion, she couldn’t help but laugh. The place where she had hit him was flaming red, the irritation spreading about two inches in all directions. It looked very much like a bee sting and, she knew, hurt much worse.

  They were standing in her kitchen and she was wrapping an ice pack in a dishcloth for him. She handed it to him and he held it there comically. It was clear that he was embarrassed but also touched that she had invited him back to make sure he was okay.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “But you know, maybe I can take you out for coffee on the winnings.”

  “That must be some damn good coffee,” Harry said. He drew the ice pack away from his chest and scrunched up his nose when he looked down to the spot.

  As Mackenzie watched him, she realized that although he had been to her apartment more than a dozen times and they had kissed on a few occasions, this was the first time he’d ever had his shirt off in her apartment. It was also the first time since Zack that she had seen a man this close to her partially undressed. Maybe it was the adrenaline from winning the contest or because of graduation tomorrow, but she liked it.

  She stepped forward and placed her hand on the unharmed side of his chest, over his heart. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, stepping even closer.

  “Not right now,” he said, grinning nervously.

  She slowly slid her hand over to the mark and touched it gingerly. Then, working only on the female instincts she had long ago shoved down and replaced with obligation and boredom, she leaned in and kissed it. She felt him tense up immediately. Her hand then found his side, pulling him closer to her. She kissed his collarbone, then the base of his shoulder, then his neck. He sighed and drew her even closer.

  As was usually the case with them, they were kissing one another before either of them knew what was happening. It had only happened four previous times but each time, it had occurred like some force of nature, something unplanned and without any expectations.

  It took less than ten seconds before he had her pressed lightly against the kitchen counter. Her hands explored his chest while his left hand found its way up her shirt. Her heart hammered in her chest and every muscle in her body told her that she wanted him, that she was ready for this.

  They’d come close before—twice before, actually. But on both occasions, they had cut it off. Actually, she had stopped it. The first time, she had put an end to it just as he had started fumbling with the button on her pants. The second time, he’d been pretty drunk and she’d been far too sober. Neither of them had ever stated as such, but the hesitancy to sleep together came down to a mutual respect for one another and an uncertainty for the future. Also, she thought far too much of Harry to simply use him as a sexual release. She was growing more and more attracted to him, but sex had always been a very private matter. Before Zack, there had only been two men, and one of those had essentially been an issue of assault rather than mutual sex.

  As all of this rocketed through her head while kissing Harry, she realized that her hands were now much lower than his chest. He apparently noticed this, too; he tensed up again and drew in a sharp breath.

  She pulled her hands away suddenly and broke the kiss. She looked down to the floor, afraid that she’d see disappointment in his eyes.

  “Wait,” she said. “Harry…I’m sorry…I can’t—”

  “I know,” he said, clearly a little frustrated and out of sorts. “I know it’s—”

  Mackenzie took one large collective breath and then stepped away from him. She turned away, unable to handle the confusion and hurt in his eyes. “We can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, still clearly flustered. “Tomorrow is a big day and it’s late. So I’m going to go before I have time to care that I’ve been shot down yet again.”

  She turned back around to face him and nodded. She didn’t mind the barbed comments. She sort of deserved them.

  “That might be for the best,” she said.

  Harry slid his shirt back on, complete with splattered paint, and slowly headed for the door. “Good job tonight,” he said as he left. “There wasn’t any doubt you’d come out the winner.”

  “Thanks,” Mackenzie said, without much expression. “And Harry…really, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s stopping me.”

  He shrugged as he opened the door. “It’s okay,” he said. “Just…I can’t really do this much longer.”

  “I know,” she said sadly.

  “Goodnight, Mac.”

  He closed the door and Mackenzie was left alone. She stood in the kitchen, looking at the clock. It was 1:15 and she wasn’t remotely tired. Maybe the little exercise at Hogan’s Alley had driven too much adrenaline into her bloodstream.

  Still, she tried going to bed but spent most of the night tossing and turning. In some sort of half-sleep state, she had dreams she barely remembered, but the one consistent thing to each of them was the face of her father, smiling, proud of her that she had made it this far—that she was graduating from the academy tomorrow.

  But despite that smile, there was another consistent thing to the dreams, something she had long ago gotten used to as a frequent haunt once the lights went out and sleep came: the dead stare in his eyes and all of the blood.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Even though Mackenzie had set her alarm for eight o’clock, she was stirred awake by the vibrating of her cell phone at 6:45. She groaned as she came awake. If this is Harry, apologizing for something he didn’t even do, I’m going to kill him, she thought. Still half-asleep, she grabbed her phone and read the display through hazy eyes.

  She was relieved to see that it wasn’t Harry, but Colby.

  Puzzled, she answered it. Colby was not traditionally an early riser and they hadn’t spoken in over a week. Anal retentive to the core, Colby was probably just freaking out about graduation and the uncertainty of the future. Colby was the one female friend Mackenzie had here in Quantico, so she had done whatever she could to make sure the friendship stuck—even if it meant answering an early call on the morning of graduation, after she’d only gotten four and a half broken hours of sleep the night before.

  “Hey, Colb
y,” she said. “What is it?”

  “Were you asleep?” Colby asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I figured you’d be up at the crack of dawn this morning, with everything that’s going on.”

  “It’s just graduation,” Mackenzie said.

  “Ha! I wish that’s all it was,” Colby said in a slightly hysterical voice.

  “Are you all right?” Mackenzie asked, slowly sitting up in bed.

  “I will be,” Colby said. “Look…do you think you could meet me at the Starbucks on Fifth Street?”

  “When?”

  “As soon as you can get there. I’m heading out now.”

  Mackenzie did not want to go—she really didn’t even want to get out of bed. But she had never heard Colby quite like this. And on such an important day, she figured she should try to be there for her friend.

  “Give me about twenty minutes,” Mackenzie said.

  With a sigh, Mackenzie got out of bed and took care of only the basics in terms of getting ready. She brushed her teeth, tossed on a hooded sweatshirt and running pants, put her hair in a sloppy ponytail, and then headed out.

  As she walked the six blocks down to 5th Street, the weight of the day started to sit on her. She was graduating from the FBI academy today, just before noon, nestled in the top five percent of her class. Unlike most of the graduates she had gotten to know over the last twenty weeks or so, she would not have any family in attendance to help her celebrate this accomplishment. She would be on her own, as she had been for most her life, since the age of sixteen. She was trying very hard to convince herself that it didn’t bother her, but it did. It did not create sadness within her, but a weird sort of angst that was so old its edges had become dulled.

  As she reached the Starbucks, she even noticed that traffic was a little thicker than usual—probably the family and friends of other graduates. She let it slide right off her back, though. She had spent the last ten years of her life trying not to give a damn about what her mother and sister thought of her, so why start now?

  When she stepped into the Starbucks, she saw that Colby was already there. She was sipping from a cup and staring contemplatively out the window. There was another cup in front of her; Mackenzie assumed it was for her. She took a seat across from Colby and made a show of how tired she was, narrowing her eyes in a grumpy fashion as she took the seat.

  “This is mine?” Mackenzie asked, taking the second cup.

  “Yes,” Colby said. She looked tired, sad, and all around grumpy.

  “So what’s wrong?” Mackenzie asked, skipping any attempt Colby might have of beating around the bush.

  “I’m not graduating,” Colby said.

  “What?” Mackenzie asked, genuinely surprised. “I thought you passed everything with flying colors.”

  “I did. It’s just…I don’t know. Just being in the academy burned me out.”

  “Colby…you can’t be serious.”

  Her tone had come with some force but she didn’t care. This was not like Colby at all. Such a decision had come with some soul-searching. This was not a fluke, not some drama-filled last gasp of a woman plagued with nerves.

  How could she just quit?

  “But I am serious,” Colby said. “I haven’t really been passionate about it for the last three weeks or so. I’d go home some days and cry by myself because I felt trapped. I just don’t want it anymore.”

  Mackenzie was stunned; she hardly knew what to say.

  “Well, the day of graduation is one hell of a time to make this decision.”

  Colby shrugged and looked back out the window. She looked beaten. Defeated.

  “Colby…you can’t drop out. Don’t do that.” What was on the tip of her tongue but she did not say was: If you quit now, these last twenty weeks mean nothing. It also makes you a quitter.

  “Ah, but I’m not really dropping out,” Colby said. “I’ll go to graduation today. I have to, actually. My parents came up from Florida so I sort of have to. But after today, that’ll be it.”

  When Mackenzie had started the academy, the instructors had warned them that the drop-out rate among potential agents during the twenty-week academy session was around twenty percent—and had been as high as thirty in the past. But to think of Colby among those numbers simply didn’t make sense.

  Colby was too strong—too determined. How the hell could she be making such a decision so easily?

  “What will you do?” Mackenzie asked. “If you actually leave all of this behind, what do you plan to do for a career?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe something along the lines of preventing human trafficking. Research and resources or something. I mean, I don’t have to be an agent, right? There’s plenty of other options. I just don’t want to be an agent.”

  “You’re actually serious about this,” Mackenzie said dryly.

  “I am. I just wanted to let you know now because after graduation, my parents will be fawning all over me.”

  Oh, you poor thing, Mackenzie thought, sarcastically. That must be so terrible.

  “I don’t get it,” Mackenzie said.

  “I don’t expect you to. You’re awesome at this. You love it. I think you were built for it, you know? Me…I don’t know. Crash and burn, I guess.”

  “God, Colby…I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be,” she said. “Once I send Mom and Dad back to Florida, all the pressure will be off. I’ll tell ’em I just wasn’t cut out for whatever bullshit assignment I was handed off the bat. And then it’s off to whatever I want, I guess.”

  “Well…good luck, I guess,” Mackenzie said.

  “None of that, please,” Colby said. “You’re graduating in the top five percent today. Don’t you dare let my drama bring you down. You’ve been a very good friend, Mac. I wanted you to hear this from me now rather than just noticing that I wasn’t around in a few weeks.”

  Mackenzie made no attempt to hide her disappointment. She hated to feel like she was resorting to childish tactics, but she remained silent for a while, sipping on her coffee.

  “How about you?” Colby asked. “Any family or friends coming up?”

  “None,” Mackenzie said.

  “Oh,” Colby said, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

  “No need to apologize,” Mackenzie said. It was now her turn to look blankly out the window when she added: “I sort of like it this way.”

  ***

  Mackenzie was underwhelmed by graduation. It was really nothing more than a formalized version of her high school graduation and not quite as classy and formal as her college graduation. As she waited for her name to be called, she had plenty of time to reflect back on those graduations and how her family had seemed to fade further and further into the background with each one.

  She could recall nearly crying while walking to the stage at her high school graduation, saddened by the fact that her father would never see her grow up. She’d known it through her teen years but it was a fact that struck her like a rock between the eyes as she had walked up to the stage to receive her diploma. It was not something that had stirred her as much in college. When she had walked the stage during her college graduation, she had done so with no family in the crowd. It was, she realized during the academy ceremony, the pivotal moment in her life when she decided once and for all that she preferred to be alone in most things in life. If her family had no interest in her, then she had no interest in them.

  The ceremony ended without much fanfare and when it was over, she spotted Colby taking pictures with her mother and father on the other side of the large lobby that the graduates and their guests all filed out into afterward. From what Mackenzie could tell, Colby was doing an excellent job of hiding her displeasure from her parents. All the while, her parents beamed proudly.

  Feeling awkward and with nothing to do, Mackenzie started to wonder just how quickly she could get out of the assembly, get home and out of her graduat
ion garb, and open the first of what would likely be several beers for the afternoon. As she started heading for the doors, she heard a familiar voice from behind her, calling her name.

  “Hey, Mackenzie,” the male voice said. She knew who it was at once—not just because of the voice itself, but because there were few people who called her Mackenzie in this environment rather than just White.

  It was Ellington. He was dressed in a suit and looked just about as uncomfortable as Mackenzie felt. Still, the smile he gave her was a little too comfortable. Yet in that moment, she didn’t really mind.

  “Hi, Agent Ellington.”

  “I think in a situation like this, it’s okay to call me Jared.”

  “I prefer Ellington,” she said with a brief smile of her own.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  She shrugged, realizing just how badly she wanted to get out of there. She could tell herself all the lies she wanted, but the fact that she had no family, friends, or loved ones in attendance was starting to weigh on her.

  “Just a shrug?” Ellington asked.

  “Well, how should I feel?”

  “Accomplished. Proud. Excited. Just to name a few.”

  “I’m all of those things,” she said. “It’s just…I don’t know. The whole ceremony aspect of it seems a little much.”

  “I can understand that,” Ellington said. “God, I hate wearing a suit.”

  Mackenzie was about to come back with a comment—maybe about how he actually wore the suit well—when she saw McGrath approaching from behind Ellington. He also smiled at her but, unlike Ellington’s, his seemed nearly forced. He extended his hand to her and she took it, surprised at how limp his grip was.

  “I’m glad you made it through,” McGrath said. “I know you have a bright and promising career ahead of you.”

  “No pressure or anything, right?” Ellington said.

 

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