Come Back

She weighs this internally and then gives me a slight nod. “That will do for starters.”

That will do for enders too. Because that’s the only one I have that won’t ruin everything. “The person who killed your father was US Senator Channing.”

She swallows, and then nods. “I knew that.”

“You did not know that. You guessed it, but now you know. Because I just told you. My turn. Who—”

But then the wait staff is here with our food, looking very uncomfortable as they serve us. I wait until the food is all on the table and then we all thank them like the polite people we really aren’t.

“That conversation is over,” Harper says. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s just eat.”

She’s on the verge of tears and I’m instantly sorry. I lean in and whisper, “Just enjoy your dinner. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined it. I just wanted you to have a nice night.”

“It’s not ruined, James. It’s fine. I just… I just want to talk about normal things tonight.” She picks up her fork and cuts into her shark steak. It flakes apart like it’s supposed to and she smiles when it touches her lips. “This is really good fish for being out in the middle of the desert.”

“I caught a shark once,” Sasha tells her.

“Me too!” she says excitedly. “Deep-sea fishing was something we did a lot.”

“I’ve never caught a fish in my life,” I admit.

“What?” Even Sasha joins in on this conversation. I’m sure she’s thrilled about being better at fishing than me. And as is starting to become the norm, we drop the deep dark secrets and talk about nice things to make Harper happy. Growing up on megayachts. Growing up on cattle ranches. Growing up on the beach.

There’s no mention of the Company. It’s a dirty world we live in. It’s dangerous and deadly—we know this.

But we don’t have to talk about it right now.

Those secrets aren’t going anywhere. We’re carrying them around on our backs like a cross.

Or, maybe more fittingly, an albatross.

Chapter Twenty-Four - James

The sun is just starting to drop on the horizon, already washing the sky in a haze of red and orange. In about fifteen more minutes, it’s gonna be perfect. I don’t want to miss it, so I kiss Harper on the head and push back my chair. “Be right back, gotta take a piss.”

I make my way through the tables to the short hallway where the restrooms are located and push the door open. The attendant nods to me and then goes back to his feigned towel-folding. I whip my dick out at the urinal and do my business. I don’t talk to the attendants. I’m not a snob, I just want to finish my piss and get the f**k out of the bathroom.

The door whooshes open, so I look over and see the attendant make a quick escape. He must read minds. I give myself a shake, zip up, and then turn to wash my hands.

“Hello, James.”

It’s been a long time, but there’s no mistaking who the man is entering the facilities. Tall, dark, and yes—he fits the bill in all the cliché ways. The once-brown hair is graying a little at the temples, but not much. And maybe it’s a trick of time, since I was so young when we first met, but he looks the same to me now as he did that day on the beach when he offered me his daughter in exchange for my freedom.

The funny thing is, I never wanted my freedom back then. I wanted to be Six in the worst way. He should’ve asked Tony. Tony would’ve jumped on the chance to kill his way out of the Company.

But he didn’t ask Tony. He asked me.

I never wanted to kill my way out of the Company.

I wanted to kill my way in.

Careful what you wish for. You just might get it, Tet says in my head. “Your boys are getting sloppy, Admiral. She spotted one as soon as we got here.”

“How is she?” the Admiral says back, ignoring my statement. We may not have had a lot of face-to-face meetings over the years, but we’ve talked hundreds of times by phone. I know him better than most and ignoring my dig on his security is typical. He likes to control the conversation at all times and he hates to hear about less than perfect performance. But he does hear it. And I know for a fact he will speak to that guard later. There is zero tolerance for f**kups in our line of work. “She’s well, I hope? I realize you’ve only been in contact for a very short period of time, but I expect her to be well.”

I’m suddenly imagining Harper bent over a couch with my finger in her ass. He will kill me if he finds that shit out. No doubt, promise or not. I turn the water on and begin washing my hands. “She’s doing real good, actually. She’s happy. She wanted seafood tonight, so this place worked out perfect.”

“And you’re on track? With the mission?”

What mission? Jesus f**king Christ, how many mission do I have going right now? “Yes, sir,” I say calmly. “One hundred percent on track.”

“And the files? Has she… mentioned them? A hiding spot? Something?”

“No, sir,” I reply as I turn the water off and reach for a towel. “But I haven’t brought it up yet. I had to leave for a little bit, so we just reconnected.”

“Yes,” he smiles. “Are you enjoying my gift?”

I smile back. What f**king gift? But of course I don’t say that. Because I have missing hours… Or days, Tet adds inside my head. It might be days. “Yes, sir. Much appreciated.”