I lie in bed staring up at the ceiling, thinking about Ford. Even though he kissed me a week ago, I can still feel tingling in my skin and lips where he touched me. Maybe I should have gone back to his place with him.
I'm supposed to be infiltrating the Death Dealers, and this man offered me the perfect way in. And not only that – I wanted him, too! Having sex with him certainly wouldn't have felt like some kind of sacrifice for the job.
So why did I rush off like that?
I just felt so…unsettled when I was talking to him. I'm used to feeling in control and in charge of my emotions, and with Ford, they practically felt like they were leaking out of me. I mean, I was only around him for a matter of minutes, and I already messed up Beth's back story.
Beth's parents divorced and her mother never remarried – not like mine. What in the hell made me mention my stepfather? I felt like Ford saw right through me. He has extensive military training…maybe my unskilled subterfuge can't hold up around someone like him.
I jump up and pull on a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and some sneakers. I need to get out of here and stop stewing in my feelings. There's a knock on my bedroom door.
"Come in!" I call.
"Hey, girl," Candice says as she opens it. "You need anything from the store?" she asks me.
"Um, I think I'm okay," I tell her with a smile.
"Alright. See you later!" she says with a wave and disappears. I've felt surprisingly comfortable living here with her. She's fun, and nice, and it's been surprising to me how much I missed having a close girlfriend. Female companions were hard to come by at the Academy.
I sit down on the floor and start lacing up my sneakers. I pause and frown as I hear an unfamiliar ringing. Is that Candice's phone?
Oh, shit, the burner from Drew…I jump up and head over to my bedside table. I pull it out of the drawer, and wait until I hear Candice shut the front door on her way out.
"Hello?" I ask as I answer.
"Are you okay?" Drew asks immediately.
"I'm fine," I reply with a smile.
"Head to exit 52. As soon as the you leave the ramp, there's a sign for a trail. Park, and I'll meet you fifty feet down it, right by the first fork," he tells me, and hangs up.
I sigh. I feel guilty that I don't have much to report, but I'm sure he wants to inspect me close-up to make sure I'm actually alright.
Twenty minutes later, and I'm walking quickly down the trail. I see Drew by the fork as he said, wearing a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt with a backpack slung over his shoulder. I smile and wave. It's good to see him. This past week has been so new and often chaotic, and he's a stabilizing presence.
"Aren't you cold?" he asks, eyeing my sports bra.
"I was going to go for a jog when you called," I explain, crossing my arms over my chest.
He clears his throat. "I just wanted to check on you, see how things are going. You look good."
"Thanks. I'm living with one of the other cocktail waitresses at the Keep, Candice Young," I tell him. "She's sort of on the fringes of the Death Dealers."
"Has she introduced you?"
"No, she didn't have to. They came into the Keep on my first night, though not since then."
"And?" he asks, leaning forward excitedly. I pause. I don't want to tell him too much about Taz because if he thinks I'm in too much danger, he'll pull me out.
"Well, there was this one guy Taz who was being a little too aggressive, but it was fine. Another brother warned him off."
"Who?"
"Ford. Matt Ford. Said he was a former lieutenant in the SEALs. He was older than Taz. Taz seemed kind of scared of him, honestly."
"Come on," Drew says, nodding off the trail. I follow him into the dry brush. "I used to come here when I was a kid," he tells me over his shoulder. After a couple minutes, we stop and he sits on the edge of a small boulder with a flat top, and I perch next to him. He pulls his backpack off and opens it, then rummages through a stack of manila folders inside it.
"Matt Ford," he says, opening it. "He's the one I couldn't find much on. Look at his paperwork from the Navy."
"It's all blacked out," I observe, running a finger over the black bars covering entire pages of text.
"Exactly, so who knows what they had him doing. He did seven tours, that much I know, in Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. No criminal record at all. What'd you think of him personally?"
"Personally?" I ask, feeling a flush come to my cheeks.
"Yeah. You know, what kind of person is he? You said Taz was scared of him?"
"Well, yes. He's pretty… large. Tall, I mean, and muscular," I clear my throat. I'm getting off-track. "He seemed observant. Smart."
"And dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
"He's a Death Dealer."
"Yes, of course," I reply, nodding.
"Never forget that. It might be easy to, once you start getting closer to them. You might even mistake them for friends. But they're not."
"I know. You don't have to worry about that," I assure him.
"Good. Now Taz," he says, pulling another folder out of his backpack. "Real name: Joseph Teegan. This guy does have a rap sheet. Mostly petty stuff, misdemeanors, except for a sexual assault charge, which was dismissed after the victim decided she wouldn't testify. It was a sudden change of heart," he says, reading. "I wouldn't be surprised if she were directly or indirectly intimidated by the Death Dealers."
"I'm not surprised. I'll do my best to stay away from him."
"Good idea. I'd stick with Ford, since you've already made a connection. He's older, more senior in the organization, so he'll probably have access to more information anyway."
"Got it."
"What's your next course of action?"
"I was thinking I'd try to get back in touch via Candice. She really wants to be a sweet butt, so I'll try to encourage that."
"Good."
"Your parents brought you here?" I ask, looking out at the brush. Drew tucks the folders back into his backpack.
"Yeah, I grew up about ten minutes from here," he explains, pulling up the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe a few beads of sweat from his forehead. I quickly glance out of the corner of my eyes, and can see a toned six-pack and a happy trail that disappears under the band of his shorts. All the little moments that we shared prepping at the motel come flooding back to me.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask abruptly.
"What?" he laughs.
"Well, I was just thinking that I don't know that much about you. You've seen my file, so you know a lot about me."
"True. No, I don't have a girlfriend."
"Why?"
"I've been told I'm a little obsessed with my work. Apparently I'm hard to have a relationship with."
"That surprises me."
"Does it?"
"Well, not the workaholic part," I acknowledge. "But… I don't know. It's not my place," I realize.
"It's alright. I'm thirty-two. I thought I'd be married by now. It's just hard to find someone who understands…" he trails off. "We should get going," he says, standing up. He reaches down and offers me a hand to help me up, and I feel a warmth extending from his palm, a sense of safety.
Our hands part, and we turn and silently head back down the trail. Neither of us talks for the walk back to the road. We're nearing the final curve in the trail, and I can just see the grey pavement of the street.
"Let me know if anything changes," he says. I nod, but he's not looking at me. He seems to be staring at a point in the dirt just behind me.
Suddenly, he steps forward and wraps one arm around my waist, and slides his other hand behind my neck. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a surge of desire. My lips open to accept his, and as they meet mine, I taste mint and honey on his breath. His tongue slips into my mouth, gentle and rough at the same time. Our bodies press against each other's, and I melt against him.
He pulls away, and holds me at arm's length. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize, Drew. We both—"
"No, I do. Even if you weren't on this assignment, I'm still your superior. I shouldn't be making things more complicated than they already are."
"I guess you're right," I say, though I can't help feeling personally rejected.
"You're in a risky position, Marie, and it's only going to get more dangerous. We both need to stay focused."
"I know," I agree with a nod, swallowing my disappointment. "I'll keep you updated," I tell him, breaking away and heading toward my car. I quickly start the engine and drive off. I can just see Drew emerging from the trail head as I go, but I don't look back.
He's right. He's my boss and things are already complicated. More than he knows, really, since I neglected to tell him the part about how Ford kissed me…and how I kissed him back.