Save Me If You Can

by Jones, Christina C

  Savi had never been exactly bubbly, but she was a vibrant, dynamic woman. Six years ago though, Inez had noticed that Savi became withdrawn, almost robotic for a while. She wasn’t smiling as much, didn’t joke around, and she’d very nearly lost her life during an assignment in Japan, because she wasn’t focused. She hadn’t stayed in the agency very long after that.

  Inez didn’t want that to be her story. She liked Ken – liked him a lot. But for her own protection, and his, there was only so far she could allow him into her heart. And lying here with him, like this… this was pushing that boundary pretty hard.

  But she snuggled closer anyway.

  “So you know I met King’s son today, right?” He asked, mumbling the words into the silky strands of her hair.

  Inez nodded, then turned her face up toward his. “Yeah. I was there for the debriefing. You put some trackers and stuff on his phone, mined his data, all of that, right?”

  “Yeah. But…. I talked to him too. And it was… fucked up, you know? Like I couldn’t stop thinking about if I’d had a son of my own. If we’d been successful when we first started trying, in our early twenties… I’d have a teenager now. Not that much younger than TJ. And it’s like… I looked in this kid’s eyes, and the stuff he was saying… that boy needs a father figure. And here I am ready to kill him. It’s fucked up.”

  Sitting up, Inez stroked Kendall’s chest in soothing circles, then brought her hand up to his chin. “Yes. It is. Sometimes, when we have people who are targets, but innocent… you get a little bit attached, even if you only interact for a few minutes. Cause they aren’t the bad guys, someone else is. They’re just a means to an end. So you feel guilty about using them, and guilty about using the information you got out of them… and guilty about potentially hurting someone they love. It’s tough.”

  Inez closed her eyes as Kendall cupped the back of her head, bringing her mouth down to his. She heard what he was saying without him having to say it, that he appreciated that this was something she understood.

  As much of a relief as it was for him, it was for her as well. So often, the guilt and honest sorrow was something that got bottled up and swallowed, when you chose a line of work like theirs. So there was some measure of comfort in being able to commiserate like this, even as it lingered in her mind that she’d sworn off other federal agents. She wanted to be the most dangerous one in a relationship, and with Kendall, it wouldn’t even be a tie.

  “You ever think about leaving this lifestyle?” Kendall asked, with his hand still buried in her hair as they ended the kiss.

  Inez lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

  “You know… not running all over the world, no more dangerous missions, no more looking over your shoulder?”

  Inez grinned. “No.”

  “Wow,” Kendall chuckled. “That’s pretty damned decisive.”

  “I guess it is, huh? But no… I can’t imagine doing anything except this. I mean… what else would I do? Stay at home, cook, and have babies? Could you imagine?”

  Inez laughed at that, and expected Ken to laugh along, because the idea of her doing something other than spying and fighting and blowing shit up was one that deserved endless laughter. But… apparently he was thinking something different.

  “I could, actually,” he said, stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Not the staying at home part, but the doing of something else…. Something more conducive to settling down… having babies…”

  “Whoa!” Inez pulled away as her face curled into a scowl. “Kendall… what are you getting at?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not “getting at” anything, I’m saying… I don’t know. Maybe I am getting at something.”

  “You’re definitely getting at something, and I think you should pump your brakes, cariño. Let’s just… enjoy what we’re doing, while it lasts.”

  Before the words left her mouth, Inez already knew that was impossible. Hinting at “more” for them was a bell that couldn’t be un-rung, no matter how much she may have wanted it. Kendall’s hand slipped from her hair, and he propped them both behind his head, looking at her.

  “Kendall you have to understand that this would never work, right? You’re… you want a family. Marriage, and kids, and that’s just… I’m not there.”

  “Well when will you be there?” he asked, and the question made her chest clench.

  She shook her head, looking away as she climbed to her feet, then headed for the bathroom. “I… I don’t know. I was 21 years old when I was recruited into the agency. I’m barely thirty years old, and most of my adult life has been spent… like this. Combat mode, secrecy… short love affairs, that only lasted the length of a mission. It’s not something I’ve even considered.”

  Kendall sat up, following her into the bathroom to drop the condom into the trash. “So you’re going to be a spy forever? Never going to step out and settle down… have a normal life?”

  “This is my normal life. At least for now. If something changes, I’ll let you know.”

  Inez turned away from him as tears sprang to her eyes, then started the shower, being careful to keep her face averted. But why was she having an emotional reaction to this? Babies, pets, husbands… that wasn’t her thing. Savi wanted that. Naomi wanted that. Inez wanted to beat people up. The freedom she enjoyed, the risks she took, having a baby or getting married would inevitably be the end to all of that.

  But she’d lied when she said she never thought about it.

  She definitely thought about it.

  She thought about it a lot, when other agents disappeared and she assumed they’d gotten themselves killed, only to see them in a desk position at headquarters with pictures of the families they’d built. She wondered if something was wrong with her because she didn’t feel any emptiness in her chest, no deep ache in her heart, wishing she had that.

  And then she went and killed a few foreign dignitaries, and the question was forgotten.

  So it really wasn’t that, wasn’t about the family thing at all. It was about… Kendall. Gorgeous, sexy, dangerous Kendall, who could have been pulled directly from her personal fantasies. But it was supposed to remain that – a fantasy. Now that they’d been intimate, the fantasy part was gone, leaving behind the reality of honest, emotional feelings for someone who didn’t desire the same life they wanted. That, to Inez, was worth shedding a few tears about.

  “Are you coming into the shower?” she asked, fighting for her voice to remain even, not giving away the pain she felt.

  There was silence for a long, tense moment, and then finally, Kendall spoke. “No.”

  That short, simple word honestly surprised her, and cut through her like a knife. No longer caring if he saw her tears, she turned around, her face pulled into a confused scowl.

  “I think I’m gonna head back to my own room. Clean up there… get some sleep. We have an early planning meeting tomorrow,” he explained, even though the truth was clear in his eyes. But really… I need to get the fuck away from you wasn’t exactly the type of thing she would have expected him to say out loud.

  He gave her a subtle nod as he left the bathroom, and Inez could hear him for a few moments as he shuffled around the room, probably putting on boxers, gathering his clothes. She toyed with the idea of calling him back, and really talking this through, but what the hell could she say? Her position was firm, and there was no way she could – or would – be selfish enough to ask him to wait to see if her mind changed. Not when she felt quite… sure.

  She swallowed hard as his footsteps padded across the floor, almost hoping they would stop and turn back. That he’d come to the bathroom to tell her she was being stupid, insist they at least try to make it work. But none of that happened… there was only heavy finality as he opened, then closed the door.

  Nine.

  “What you doin’ in here, pischouette?”

  Taylor’s head snapped up at the sound of Quentin’s voice, sending braids flying as she hurriedly moved the computer mouse, cl
icking out of whatever she was on. Quentin pressed his lips together, holding back laughter at the fear in her eyes as he stepped further into his room.

  “What did you just call me?” she asked, looking just like her mother when she frowned, trying to use sassiness to cover her fear. “And where is Kennedy? She was supposed to be looking out.”

  Quentin shook his head. “Your lookout took off down the hall when she saw me coming. And I called you the opposite of a well-behaved child. You know you aren’t supposed to be near a computer, after you got caught with the contraband cell phone. And especially not my computer.”

  “Whatever.” Taylor stood with confidence, but her hands were visibly shaking as she walked toward the door. “You can’t tell me what to do, where I can and can’t be. Just because you’re screwing my mother doesn’t make you the boss of me.”

  “Hold up there,” Quentin said, nostrils flaring as he stepped in front of the door, blocking her path. “Me and you are about to have a little talk.”

  Taylor’s eyes went wide, then darted around the room. “Move, or I swear I’ll scream.”

  Quentin lifted an eyebrow. “And say what?” He reached behind him, opening the door, but still standing in the way of her exit. “You want an audience while I talk to you about your treatment of your mother, be my guest, Taylor. Maybe get ‘Nez up here, she’s been itching to “talk” some sense into you. Or Mimi… I can just tell you flat out, she wants to whoop your ass the old-fashioned way. Kennedy can’t even do a good job as a lookout, and if I call Marcus or Kendall, you already know what side they’re on. Oh, and your boy Harrison’s leg is fucked up. So… who exactly you screaming for, pray tell?”

  Taylor stood there for a long time, scowling up at Quentin until her bottom lip started to tremble. Then she let out a sound of disgust from her throat before she stomped back over to the desk chair and sat down, arms crossed. “What is it?!” she snapped, and Quentin had to swallow hard to remember he was speaking to a child. He called on the knowledge that, even according to Marcus and Kendall, Taylor had never been an ill-mannered kid… until how.

  “It,” he said, leaving the door open as he sat down on the end of the bed, facing her, “Is the fact that if I hear you say another disrespectful thing to your mama, I’m gonna put you in that boxing ring downstairs with Mimi and Inez and let you fight it out.”

  Taylor sneered. “My mother would never stand for that.”

  “You’re right,” he replied, with a nod. “She wouldn’t. Which is exactly why it baffles me that you’re treating her like she would. Like she’s not put her life, her career, her safety and well being all on the line… for you.”

  The teenager averted her eyes, running her tongue over her teeth. “Everybody keeps saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

  “Another testament to how she’s protected you. You can’t remember shit except the easygoing happiness of being a child because your mother covered you, and just because you can’t see them, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the scars to prove it.”

  “She kept me from my father!” Taylor shouted, as a stream of tears began to run down her cheeks. “She acted for years as if he just didn’t exist, and then pow, there he is. And he loves me, and I have a sister, and… she kept that from me, because she hates him! It’s so… selfish!”

  Again, Quentin had to swallow hard to keep his anger in check. “I don’t know what kind of relationship you had with your mother before now, but I know that she loves you, and always has. Selfish… isn’t a word that works for her. You wouldn’t believe the sacrifices she has made for you.”

  Taylor shook her head. “Yeah, well, she chose to have a child. I didn’t ask to be here.”

  “You need to watch yourself,” Quentin said, in a low, barely controlled snarl. Now, he was finally starting to understand why Renata was constantly on edge these days about this little girl. “You’re looking at your father like he’s some kind of saint, but understand that your mother didn’t ask for you to be here either. She did the best she could with what she was dealt.”

  The teenager averted her gaze, dropping it to her lap where she picked at her nails for a few moments of silence before she looked up again. “So… that stuff is true?”

  “What stuff?” Quentin glanced over at his computer screen, at the files Taylor hadn’t gotten closed fast enough.

  “That stuff about my father.” Taylor tugged her top lip between her teeth, then scrubbed her hand across her face, wiping away tears. “It can’t be, right? The things that he’s done? The stuff it says he did to my mother? Its lies, right?” The girl’s voice cracked with desperate emotion as she stared at Quentin, waiting for him to ease her fears.

  It took Quentin several long moments, and a heavy sigh to shake his head, and break Taylor’s little heart. “I’m sorry, cher. They’re not. If you saw it in my files… it’s the truth. Verifiable.”

  “No! He’s… he’s not a monster! He wouldn’t do that! He was so nice, and—”

  “And very, very good at showing only the parts of himself he wants certain people to see. I know it’s probably really hard to process that right now, but… it’s the truth. Unfortunately.”

  Taylor shook her head, averting her eyes to look left, right, then down at her hands again before she dropped her head into her lap and began to sob.

  Goddamnit, another crying ass teenager.

  Quentin pushed out a breath, and then got down on the floor in front of Taylor, prying her head up. “Hey. Hey,” he said cupping her face in his hands, and trying to get her to meet his eyes. “You are going to be just fine, okay? It’s fucked up, yes, but… it’s not the end of the world. Your mother loves you more than anything, and I mean… she knows how it feels to discover that your father isn’t a very good man. And you’ve got family here, y’know? Me, Marcus, Kendall, Harrison, four men who will gladly embarrass you before your first date, fuss at you about your grades, help you with college applications, walk you down the aisle, all that stuff. If you start treating your mama right, cause otherwise I can’t deal with ya.”

  Taylor laughed, then sniffled as she wiped her face.

  “The point is,” Quentin continued, “You weren’t missing anything by not having that man in your life. And you won’t miss anything going forward. There is a house full of people to make sure of that. So this anger that you’re feeling, it’s understandable. And it’s valid. But your mother… she’s has gone way above, and way beyond for you, little girl. I need to see you act like you understand that.”

  Taylor nodded, and Quentin moved back to stand up. “Aiight, so… gone on, now. Your little friend is probably dying to see that I didn’t throw your little ass out the window.”

  Taylor was out of that chair before he even finished his words, and Quentin turned toward the window as he scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted.

  How the hell did I end up playing guidance counselor? He thought to himself, then turned around to close the door. To his surprise, Renata was standing there.

  “So I heard all of that,” she said, stepping into the room to close the door behind her. “And… Taylor didn’t say anything when she just passed me in the hall, but at least she didn’t roll her eyes. So… that’s progress, right?”

  Quentin chuckled a little, then stretched out his arms for Renata, pulling her tight when she insinuated herself against his chest. “She just needs time.”

  “She needs more than that, but for now… it’ll have to do. She’ll go talk to Kennedy, and hopefully neither of them will do anything stupid before we get this… mess sorted out. And then I can take her to my therapist, to Layla Alexander. She needs it.”

  She moaned a little as Quentin kissed her forehead, running his fingers through the parts in her braids. He turned her face up toward his, then captured her mouth, sucking and biting on her bottom lip. “And what does mama need?”

  Quentin let out a low groan as Renata’s graceful hands ran over the front of his jeans, cupping
and squeezing him through the thick fabric. “Mama needs this… but…”

  Shit. There was always a “but” when things were about to get good.

  “Duty calls,” she said, reluctantly letting him go and stepping back. “I overheard the conversation between you and Taylor because I was coming to find you. We found Terry King.”

  &

  Savi waited outside the door for a long while before finally she gathered up the audacity to knock. She’d left Harrison downstairs, in the room in which he was currently confined.

  She hated that for him, but she didn’t blame them, not at all. Harrison’s loyalty was in question, and no matter how much he claimed to only have been around Wolfe because he was feeding information to the DEA… he’d still been around Wolfe. They’d celebrated together, broken bread together, covered up crimes together… they were connected. And you weren’t around someone for that many years without them rubbing off on you.

  And then… there was the matter of verifying his claims.

  Harrison claimed to be an active agent, and Quentin’s findings supported that, with the exception of the superior agent Harrison said he reported to. All of a sudden, that person was in the wind, status as an agent, or hell… a person who actually ever existed… unverified. And he swore he didn’t know anything about a mole.

  So for now, Harrison stayed where he was. But he was given everything he needed – a clean space, food, clothing, everything except a means to communicate with the outside world. And, after lengthy negotiations, he was approved for visits with Savi.

  It was only because of Inez, she was sure, and the younger woman would have been wiser not to trust her. In a profession like theirs, it really was better to trust no one, but the two women had known each other so long, worked alongside each other so often, that maybe conventional “wisdom” didn’t matter so much. In a case like this… maybe the “wise” decision was to trust the emotion.

  Savi had no intentions of betraying anyone, and maybe that was something Inez could just inherently see. And maybe, that confidence tugged at her heartstrings, made her not want to deny an old friend something she’d waited on for so long.