“So who are you, Drex? I mean, really? He said Drexel Wolfe isn’t your real name. And you never talk about yourself. Like where you’re from, where you grew up. You’re a huge mystery, which makes me even more suspicious of you.”
She’s spot on. It’s time to come clean.
“My birth name is James Baxter Drexel. When I joined the Black Ops, they called me Lone Wolf, so it seemed appropriate to change my name after my discharge. The stigma associated with what I did was pretty damn large, so large that I wanted to start over. So that’s what I did. I ceased being James Drexel and that’s when Drexel Wolfe came to be.
“I was born in Annapolis, Maryland. My mom was a schoolteacher and a taskmaster at that. My dad was a general in the Marine Corp. I graduated from high school at sixteen and obtained an appointment to West Point. My folks were so proud. You see where this is going, right? We moved around a lot, but I was pushed in the path of my dad. And it was okay because it’s all I ever wanted to do. And everything came easy to me. I completed all my coursework for graduation from West Point in three years. But I couldn’t receive a commission because I was too young. So I had to join the Marines as an enlisted man and then wait until I was twenty-one for my commission. I was put in the Special Forces and then after I received my commission, it was only a matter of time before I was singled out for Black Ops. I was already fluent in Farsi, Pashto, and Arabic so I was the perfect fit. And you know the rest of the story.”
She stares at me for a long time and gives nothing away. I’m at a loss.
She drops her head and then says, “You’re like fucking Superman.”
“No, just your average guy, Gem.”
“Drex, you’re anything but average. So what happens now?”
“We check the box and see what it tells us. You ready?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
THE CONTENTS OF the box are spread out on the huge table when we walk in the room. My thoughts are a cluttered mass of confusion and I just want to go and lie down and forget about this whole thing for a day. No, make that a month. Just go somewhere where I don’t have to worry about someone trying to kill me.
And then there’s Drex. His story confuses me even more. He’s an amazing person. Wickedly smart, driven, and talented, I look at him and realize he could do anything in the world and succeed. But on the other hand, I’m angry. His explanation makes perfect sense, but I’m still not sure if I trust him. He has kept me safe. But what happens when I find what I’m looking for? Is that when he will turn me over to the CIA and I’ll be hauled off, hidden away for the rest of my life? I don’t know what to think anymore. He talks about how I cloud his judgment. Well, he ought to take a peek inside my head. Talk about whiplash! I’m all over the place with him. One minute I want to punch his lights out and the next I want him to fuck me silly. What kind of damn crazy train am I on? And how long will I be able to keep this up?
My throat tightens, and I massage it, but the air in the room feels too hot and thick to breathe. Sweat beads on my forehead and my hands grow damp. As I scan the room, everyone has their heads bent over whatever it is they’re working on and they’re not paying me any attention. I have an urgent desire to flee, to escape this prison. The noise is just too much. Turning around, I dash out of the room and toward Drex’s office. Ellie stares as I fly by.
I close the door behind me, unable to breathe. The toe of my shoe catches on the edge of one of the Persian rugs and I end up on my hands and knees, fighting for air. My vision clouds with black dots, and my face tingles. What the hell is going on? The harder I try to get oxygen into my lungs, the tighter my throat gets. After all I’ve been through in the last month, am I going to die by some strange reaction to something?
“Gemini? What’s going on?”
He’s here but I can’t respond because my throat is too tight to speak.
He grabs me from behind and pulls me into his lap. “Breathe, nice and slow. You’re having a panic attack.”
A panic attack? I want to answer him but I can’t. I’ve never had a panic attack in my life. His voice whispers in my ear, soft and gentle, “Keep breathing, babe. Easy does it. You’re fine here. I’ve got you.”
My hands clutch his arms to me, my nails biting into his flesh, but he acts like he doesn’t notice. I’m vaguely aware that the dots in my vision have disappeared, along with the buzzing in my ears. “Focus on your breathing. In and out. Nice and slow.” His chest behind me is a balm to my nerves, as the vibrations from his voice calm me. The band around my throat eases then disappears and I inhale deeply.
“Good girl.” He stays put and holds me to him. I loosen my grip and when I do, so does he. But this whole thing has unhinged me. Nothing is the same. My entire life has been rewritten. I’m a character in a novel and I’m not sure how this story is going to end. Even Drex, who I thought was the most solid thing I’ve ever known, has been dissected right before me. It frightens me to death.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, I spin in his arms. He starts to speak, but I stop him. My words gush out of me. “I’m not sure what just happened, but I’ve never had a panic attack before and it freaks me. I need to get out of here, Drex. I need to get away from all this. Everything I’ve ever known is false. Me, my name, my mother, my origins, my father, Nick, and now you. I’m a caged bird with broken wings. I know they’ll never heal, but I have to find a way to try.” He starts to speak again, but I stop him, my palm in the air. “I know what you’re going to say. That they’ll kill me or take me away or whatever. But I don’t care anymore. They can have what fucked-up parts of me that are left. And they’ll find out soon enough that I’m not worth anything to them anyway. And as for my mom. You can have all that stuff in there. Maybe it’s worth something to someone. The woman who raised me isn’t the one who left all these clues and boxes behind. I’d rather cherish the memories I have left of her and go on with those. I’m tired of all this.”
“You can’t leave, Gemini. Please, listen to me. Don’t go. It’s dangerous for you.” There was something in his voice I hadn’t heard before.
“I don’t care. I can’t stay locked away like this forever. I’ll get a wig and move to some remote place where they won’t think to look for me.”
When I try to slide away, he pulls me to him and kisses me hard. “I can’t let you leave like this. At least sleep on it. Aali Imaam will find you within a day and take you to the Middle East. You heard what they said. They think you have that file. If you think you’re caged here, it won’t be anything compared to how you’ll live over there. Please, I’m imploring you to listen to me.”
He’s right and I know it. I agree to stay but my plans are firm. It will only be for the night.
“Okay, but I’m not going back in there. I don’t want to know what you find.”
He nods and we stand. Then he leaves and I’m alone. As I look out his office windows, I can see the mountains in the distance, soon to be covered in snow. My longing for a bike ride smashes into me and I close my eyes, thinking back about the pleasure of feeling the wind sting my cheeks as I push through the forest. I imagine myself on my bike, the one that was destroyed, still lost on the side of a mountain somewhere, pedaling up a steep grade as my lungs burn. My fingers grip the handles as I shift gears, accommodating for the grade to pick up speed. When I crest the hill, the views are so splendid, I have to stop for a minute, just so I can let them sink in. These are the things I want to experience again, the ones my body cries for. Soon, I’m pedaling through rocks and roots again, bunny-hopping the larger trees and stumps, winding my way up and around the obstacles. I’m sweaty from my efforts. Riding through creeks, over rocks small and large, I emerge as muddy as a kid stomping through puddles. But I don’t notice. It’s not until my ride is over that I even see how much mud I’ve accumulated. It represents the ultimate freedom but when I open my eyes, I’m weighed down with such sadness that I slide down the wall and fold up in the corner.
/>
First it was my mom who wouldn’t allow me to enjoy the simple things most kids do. I was raised in a cage under a disguise called love. Then it was the accident that stole my newfound freedom. It even stole the future I had envisioned … a career in marketing. Now, this. Drex has bound me again, and though it’s not his fault, I feel like a prisoner. My heart is attached to his, yet it’s not enough for me. I need freedom. The simple pleasure of being able to walk around and not be afraid. And of being myself again. Independent and without all these mysteries.
That night, as we prepare for bed, Drex studies me and I know he suspects something.
“You don’t want to know anything at all?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No. I told you already. I don’t care. My parents shit on me. Why would I care about what’s in there? They’ve ruined my life.”
“But they …”
“Stop, Drex. I don’t want to know.”
He shrugs and leaves me alone in the bathroom.
When I walk out, he’s sitting up in bed, his back against the headboard. “Gem, what can I do?”
“Nothing. There’s not a thing in the world.”
“I feel so helpless.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Will you at least let me hold you?”
If I do that, I’m worried I won’t be able to do what needs to be done. But when I look at his face, his beautiful face, I know I’m breaking his heart. So I get into bed and as I curl up next to him, I say, “You can always hold me, Drex. I love you.”
“God, Gem, I love you too. More than anything. And I don’t know how to help you here. I’m losing you. It’s written, on your face, in the way you move. Please stay.”
Every word pulls me apart, bit by bit, but I know I can’t give in to him. Staying will only make things more toxic between us. But I know he won’t let me leave, either. Knowing Drex the way I do, he’ll stop at nothing to guarantee my safety, even if it means locking me up.
“Yes, I’ll stay.” I dare not look at him; he’ll see the lies written all over my face. Even I can hear them in my voice. He doesn’t say anything but I’m sure he hears them too. He slides down and holds me close. My head rests on his chest, my arm around him. I wish I could kiss him, but it would be my greatest mistake. He would taste the salt from the tears lining my cheeks, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.
Our brief time together zips through my mind, and I know I’ll always ache for Drex. There will be nothing about him that I won’t miss. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I feel the soft rise and fall of his chest. It’s time now so I ease away, careful not to disturb him. My backpack holds everything I’ll be taking, which isn’t much. I grab a small knife from the kitchen and bring it back to the bathroom where I’ve got the alcohol and bandages out. I press around with my fingers, hunting for the tiny lump of the microchip. Then I scrub my hip and fingers with the alcohol and do the same to the knife. I grit my teeth and make a tiny incision. It stings but I keep going. Using the knife tip, I gouge out the chip and pour more alcohol on the wound. It burns like fire, but I apply pressure to stop the bleeding, pad it with gauze, and tape it.
Once dressed, I grab the pack and go to the small room that Drex uses as an office. I find his wallet and take out a wad of cash. Right before I walk out the door, I leave an envelope on the kitchen counter for him.
Since this place has as much security as the Pentagon, I realize that he’ll know in about five minutes that I’ve gone. I hit the service elevator and take it to the first floor. When I hit the open air, I get away from DWInvestigations as fast as I can. There’s an all-night club called The Open Container about two blocks away, so I hurry inside to the restroom.
As soon as I’m inside, I head to a stall. It’s pretty gross, but I don’t care. I pull off my black sweater and toss it aside. Inside my pack is a long blond wig. I put it on along with a pale blue hoodie, black leggings, and a black skirt. My jeans go back in the pack and I put on a ton of lipstick. After I check myself out in the mirror, I’m out the door. On a security camera, I won’t look like me. Up close is another thing.
I walk around the huge bar, hunting for a rear exit. When I find it, I move. At the last minute, I change my mind. I know there’ll be cameras everywhere so I reroute to the front. Less conspicuous that way. Easier to catch a cab too.
I tell the cabbie to take me to any rental car service at Denver International Airport. I need a car because I’m going to Boulder. I don’t dare breathe until I get my car and am on the highway.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m in Boulder. It’s close to dawn and I drive by the store where I used to work. As the sun rises, I can feel my body humming with energy like I haven’t felt in ages. The store doesn’t open until nine, so I head over to a breakfast joint and find a place to plant for a couple of hours. As I sip my coffee, my excitement nearly bursts out of me for what’s ahead. I need to buy just about everything—a bike, suit, socks, shoes. And a helmet.
Minutes tick by and when it’s five until nine, I’m parked in front of the store. My blond wig is gone and it’s just the old Gemini getting ready to waltz inside. When I spy a hand flip the “Closed” sign over, I’m almost running for the door.
The electronic buzzer dings when I walk in. Jason is working today. He’s one of the owners—it’ll be great to see him.
“Hey, just let me know if I can help you with anything,” he shouts.
“Aren’t you at least going to say hi?”
He peeks over the counter and stares for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “Oh my God … it’s a blast from the not-so-distant past. How the hell are you, girl?”
“Okay, I guess. You?”
He scoots around and picks me up for a huge hug. “So, what brings you back this way? I suppose you heard about Nick …”
“Yeah, it’s awful.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Not really. I just happened upon it by accident. I only heard he was shot.”
“Fuck. How does shit like that happen?”
This is so not what I want to talk about. “I don’t know. Crazy people, I guess. But I’m here because I’m dying to ride. I need a bike, Jason. And some gear.”
“So is this the first time since …?”
“Yeah. So I have nothing. I’m starting from scratch.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place.”
“Which is exactly why I chose your store. What do you recommend these days?”
He looks thoughtful and says, “I have just the thing. It’s a bike designed for Enduro racing. It’s ultralight with dual shocks.”
“Stop. You know how I love a hardtail.”
“Yeah, but you’ll love the rear shocks on this one. They’re super smooth and not squirrelly at all. You won’t feel like it’s too squishy, or like the tail is sliding out behind you. It’s just a softer ride. I swear you’ll love it when you catch some air. It’ll make your landings so amazing and you’ll have that control you like with a hardtail. The front fork has awesome suspension and your wrists, elbows, and shoulders are going to love it too. Take it out for a demo. But I have to tell you … you damage it, you own it, and it ain’t cheap, Gemini. With your skills, you’re gonna love this baby.”
“Okay, let me take a look at her.”
He walks me to the back and I’m instantly smitten. She’s red and black with an X-wing-shaped frame. Love at first sight.
“Jason, if she rides half as good as she looks, I’ll be a happy trailer.”
“Oh, just wait until you’re pedaling. And the gear-changing is the damn smoothest you’ll get. Now what else you need?”
“I want a full suit. A racing helmet, gloves, shoes, get me an extra inner tube, and some tools, and an Allen wrench set. Set me up with the whole package.”
“Damn, girl, you just made my day.” He’s grinning like he won the lottery. I suppose he should be. I’m getting ready to drop over ten grand in here today.
“Sure thing. I’ll pull this stuff together, so go try on some shoes. You know where they are. While I’m putting your cleats in, you can try on some riding suits.”
“Cool.” I head to the back where all the shoes are and find my size. I’m quick to pick out my style. It’s easy—mountain-biking shoe with a rugged sole, black, and I’m happy. I hand Jason the box and head to the clothing. I find the onesie I want and try it on. Next I hunt down the helmet and I choose one that covers my entire face. I’m all set. I also pick out some liners for my top and bottom and put everything on for my ride.
Jason has everything ready for me and when he goes to ring it up, I ask, “Can you do me a big favor and not run this card until the end of the day? I’ll even leave my card with you. I swear I’m good for it. And one other thing. When I’m done riding, can I store my stuff here? I’m only here for a little while and until I can figure out a place to keep this, would it be okay?”
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem. Where are you living these days?”
“Denver for now. I was in Austin for a while, but I miss this too much.”
“Okay. Go on now and have a muddy day.”
“You can count on it.”
IN LESS THAN a half hour, I’m at the trailhead and pulling my bike out of the back seat. This car is going to be a muddy mess when I return it to the rental place. I don’t give a damn. The only thing I want right now is to ride. My CamelBak is filled with water and snacks, and it’s strapped and tightened on my back. My gloves and helmet are on.
I get on the bike, clip my shoes into the pedals, and I’m off. I play with the gears a bit before I actually get on the trail. I want to be comfortable with how they feel when they switch. I’m jumping the bike in place and I realize Jason was right about the rear shocks. They feel firm like a hardtail but much more comfortable. Once I’m content with the feel of the bike, I shoot off toward the trail.
Tragic Desires Page 24