A Secret Service

by Joy Jenkins

  "Hey," she said.

  He gave a single nod but nothing else, his lips a thin line. A group of sophomore girls passed by and sent bashful smiles to Donovan. A second later, a round of giggles swept over them. Carter noted a subtle tightening of his jaw.

  "How did it go with your brother this weekend?" she asked.

  "Fine."

  His voice was toneless and Carter could detect none of his thoughts. Fighting off a sense of unease, she tried again. "It was nice meeting him.”

  Donovan made no indication that he had heard. Before she could push further, a petite, redheaded girl appeared before them.

  "Hi, Donovan," she said. "I don't know if you know this but we have A.P. Lit together. I sit two seats over from you."

  Even though Donovan didn’t react to the girl’s statement, Carter had no doubt he knew the girl's full name and extensive personal information. The girl wasn't hindered by his silence. “Look, I don't know if you had a partner for the project due this Thursday, I thought I would just ask -"

  "I have a partner," Donovan interrupted.

  Though he spoke with very little inflection, Carter heard an undercurrent of irritation. A deep blush bloomed on the girl’s cheeks. “Oh…okay. Well, if it doesn't work out...I'm free..."

  When he said nothing, she hurried away, her heels clicking on the tile floor. Carter glanced from the retreating girl to Donovan, whose jaw was still clenched.

  "Are you alright?" she asked.

  The bell rang, stirring people from their own worlds.

  "We should get to class," Donovan said.

  Carter stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Hey," she said, searching his face for any clue to his thoughts. "What’s wrong?"

  Every thought and emotion were closed off from her, blocked by an impassive mask. Carter reflexively tightened her grip, as she felt another wall being built against her. She couldn’t let it happen. Not when she needed him. Not when everyone else around her was closing her off.

  Donovan slipped his arm from her hold. “Nothing.”

  Retrieving Link, Donovan avoided Carter’s probing gaze by guiding Link into the classroom.

  "Is Donovan alright?" Carter asked Link once they were both seated.

  "Yeah, why wouldn't he be?"

  Carter ignored the question and studied Link. He was an open book, his unconcern easy to read. "He didn't say anything about how it went with his brother?"

  Link pulled a notebook from his bag. "No. He doesn't tell me stuff like that. Why? What's going on?"

  "I don't know. But something is.”

  Link glanced back at Donovan who already had the homework laid before him and worked, displaying no emotion at all. "He looks fine to me," Link said. "Did he say something to you?"

  "Not in words, no."

  "You might just be reading into it too much. He's quiet at times. We know this."

  Carter didn't agree. The longer she thought about it the more she knew something was wrong.

  ◆◆◆

  Carter positioned herself against the wall by the boys' locker room, waiting. From behind the door, she heard the muffled shouts of laughter and yells as boys joked around.

  Every interaction with Donovan that day had been worse than when they’d first met. His responses were monosyllables and his lies repetitive. Brick by brick she felt him walling her off. She couldn’t let him shut her out.

  The final bell rang. Doors banged open as students streamed out, their chatter absorbing the quiet of moments before. Carter waited. The boy’s locker room door opened and Link walked out, sliding his blazer on. Carter grabbed him and he let out a surprised yelp as she hooked his arm and pulled him into the closest bathroom. Donovan moved faster this time. He darted inside as Carter closed the door and flipped the lock.

  "What is it with you and bathrooms?" Link asked, checking for other students.

  "They have locks," Carter said. She focused on Donovan. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

  Donovan flexed his jaw as he realized the ambush was for him. He crossed his arms. "Carter," he said, in the same emotionless voice he’d used all day. "I told you, nothing is going on."

  She scrutinized him, watching as he struggled to remain neutral. In his blue eyes, she could see flashes of frustration.

  "I know something's up. Talk to me," she said. "Or at least don't lie to me."

  "Carter, why do you feel the need to drag guys into bathrooms to confront them?" he asked, patronizing.

  "Why aren't you answering my question?"

  He lost his composure for a fraction of a second, revealing irritation. "Was my silence bothering you?" he asked. "Maybe I didn't feel like playing therapist to you. You should find someone else to annoy with your problems."

  The words hung in the air, stunning Link and stinging Carter. Donovan made no sign that he regretted it. Without looking away, Carter removed her blazer.

  "Look, I never asked you to care. You pushed me to tell you," she said, rolling up one sleeve of her shirt. "You didn't have to give me advice, so don't throw that back in my face."

  "What are you doing?" Link asked, hesitant.

  Carter started rolling up her second sleeve and stared at Donovan. "I'm going to kick Donovan's ass."

  Donovan looked at her with humorless eyes. "No, you're not."

  She waved her hands out to her sides. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

  Rolling her shoulders, Carter raised her fists. Uncertain, Link looked from Carter to Donovan, then back. “Carter, you can't be serious?"

  She ignored him. "Put 'em up, Donovan, or you won't recognize that pretty face of yours in the morning."

  "You couldn't hit me the last time."

  "I wasn't focused."

  "That will change nothing."

  She smirked, took one step forward, and swung at his face. Donovan’s instincts kicked in and he caught her fist before it hit him. But before he prepared a defense, Carter kneed him in the side. Wincing, he bent over as she brought her elbow around, clipping him in the jaw. He snapped his gaze to her as he touched his jaw, shocked. Link's eyebrows shot up. Carter took a step back, indifferent.

  "That looked like it hurt," she said. "You alright?"

  Donovan straightened and said nothing. Carter held her hands out. "Either you're going to talk to me or you're going to get punched. Your decision."

  Donovan stared at her, his face hard. "What do you think you are doing?"

  "Taking your brother's advice."

  Carter came at him again. This time he was ready. She swung and he caught her fist. He used his hold to spin her around, pulling her into a lock, pinning her back to his chest.

  "I'm not going to fight you, Carter," he said.

  "Don't worry, I've spent the last four years fighting guys twice your size. You won't hurt me.”

  She tried to break out of his hold but he countered her.

  "I'm serious," he said. "Stop this."

  "You're the one that can make it stop. Just talk to me."

  When he said nothing, she elbowed his side and jerked her head back. He avoided the impact of her head but wasn't fast enough to dodge her elbow. She twisted the wrist holding her and broke away. She faced him again. Donovan held his emotions in check, but she could see something sparking in his eyes.

  "Come on, Donovan, what's it going to be?"

  "I'm not doing this with you."

  "Fine. It's your face."

  He blocked her next attack but she used his forward momentum to get in a hit to his side. He grimaced but blocked her next move. She quickened her blows, getting in one for every three he blocked.

  "Feel like talking?" she asked after she landed a hit to his ribs.

  "I'm not fighting you, Carter. Now quit it."

  "Just talk to me."

  He responded with silence.

  They kept going, Donovan shielding himself from her blows but not retaliating. At one point, he countered too fast and Carter took a punch to her left side. She winced at the
spike of pain. Instantly, Donovan took a step back, his hands raised. "Carter, I'm sorry. But this is enough."

  "Are you ready to talk?"

  "I'm serious."

  "So am I!”

  She stared him down, determined. She wasn’t going to let a wall form between them. She wasn’t going to lose him too. In an instant, Donovan let go of his passivity, displaying the myriad of his emotions.

  "I need to get out of here,” he said.

  She saw a storm of frustration, disappointment, and desperation.

  "Keys," she said to Link. He tossed them to her and she deftly caught them in one hand. "Come on, I'm driving."

  Chapter 44

  Carter swung the Mercedes into a wide parking spot. Before them was a gray stone building, on the outskirts of the city. The trio climbed out of the car, making sure not to hit the pickup trucks on either side. Donovan looked over the building, a note of recognition in his passive gaze. Carter had a feeling he’d been here before. After all, he was a Marine.

  The burly man behind the counter, with a dark beard and a scar down his left temple, didn't blink an eye as he saw Carter walk in. His surprise showed as Donovan and Link followed her. "Hi, Carter, where's Steve?" the man asked, in a voice fit for a bear.

  "At work," she said, stopping before the glass counter.

  Link swiveled his head from one side of the place to the other. Every inch of the walls were covered in guns, ranging from sniper rifles to handguns. The wall behind the man displayed an assortment of selected handguns as well as tacked up photographs.

  Carter gestured between the man and Link and Donovan. "Mark, meet my friends. Donovan and Link, this is Mark."

  Donovan took Mark's outstretched hand and gave a nod in acknowledgment. Mark narrowed his eyes. "You look familiar. You've been here before?"

  "Few times," Donovan said.

  Mark shook Link's hand but barely gave him a second thought. "What will it be today?"

  "Three ear muffs, glasses, and two guns. I'll take the usual." Carter looked to Donovan.

  "I'll take an M45," he said.

  "You got ID?" Mark asked.

  Donovan handed it over and Mark checked it before going to work. He pulled out three large ear muffs - which looked like bulky headphones - three sets of plastic glasses, two target sheets, and then grabbed two different handguns off the wall.

  "How many clips do you want?" he asked.

  Carter raised an eyebrow at Donovan.

  "Two," he said.

  Carter wondered what was eating away at him that it would take two clips to help release. Whatever it was, she hoped this would help break down the wall between them.

  Carter tossed Link a pair of ear muffs and glasses, then grabbed her stuff. She guided them to a side door. Putting on her ear muffs and glasses, she directed Link to do the same. She pushed through a door into a long rectangle room. One long metal table ran the width of the room. Spaced out along it were metal partitions, dividing the table into stalls. Gunfire rang off the walls, the sound muffled in their covered ears.

  At the last stall, Carter stopped, wanting to stay away from the room's other occupants. She didn't bother setting up her own target but stayed with Donovan. In a matter of minutes, the black outline of a human torso raced in the distance and Donovan had his gun in hand. Link and Carter gave him room. Donovan set his stance, loaded his clip into the gun, and brought it up.

  In quick succession, he fired at the target. The shots exploded as the paper quivered as each bullet tore through it. Before the shots had time to die away, Donovan released the first clip, reloaded, and emptied the second clip. Carter couldn’t deny being impressed with the ease in which he handled the gun.

  When Donovan lowered his weapon, Carter joined him in the stall. Link remained positioned against the wall, watching the other gunmen. Carter noted that some of the tension in Donovan had vanished. She nudged his shoulder with her hand.

  "Are you going to tell me what today was about?" she said over the noise of bullets tearing through the air.

  Donovan retreated behind an indifferent mask. "It's nothing, I just needed to let off some steam.”

  Hurt and anger shot through Carter. "Don't stonewall me! I've had enough of that. Tell me what's going on!"

  He pressed his lips together, trapping in his words. Carter planted her feet and crossed her arms. She had no intention of leaving until he talked. She didn’t say anything, only stared him down, challenging him to let her in. When she caught a flicker of emotion in his eyes, she relaxed a fraction.

  "My brother got promoted," Donovan said, raising his voice enough so she could hear it.

  "I know. So?"

  Irritation flashed through Donovan's face. He stayed silent. Despite the fact Carter wanted to shove him, to shake his thoughts out of him, she held herself back. Instead, she tried a tactic that didn’t come easy for her: gentleness. She laid a hand on his arm, a gesture Maggie used so often to comfort Carter. "Donovan, talk to me.”

  Something cracked in his expression and all his emotions came crashing out: annoyance, disappointment, jealousy. The sight of it startled her.

  "He got promoted and I'm stuck! In high school! Babysitting!" Donovan cast a glance at Link then away. "Babysitting was how James put it yesterday.” He ran a hand through his hair, each confession releasing a bit of his frustration. "My brothers are surrounded by people who can respect them for their work. I have to spend my days entrenched in empty-headed girls and egotistical boys." He balled his fists and shook his head as if he couldn't believe where he was. "For two more years, I have to deal with a complete lack of freedom." He met Carter's gaze. "Do you understand how aggravating that is?"

  She didn't respond for a long moment. The ringing of gunfire continued on around them. Link had taken to looking at his phone, oblivious to their talk. She did understand. She understood in a way she never imagined she could. They were both locked in a world that felt too small, too confining, too empty.

  "I find it irritating and I’m not you,” Carter said.

  Donovan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  "I know it's frustrating but this will be worth it in the long run," she said.

  "Yeah, I know,” Donovan said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “The problem is I spent hours with my brother, having to listen as he tells me about how great his job is. And the mature adults he works with, not whiny teenagers"

  Carter affectionately shook his arm. "You're going to get that. Donovan, at the end of this you get to walk into any place and get whatever job you want. You have to remember that."

  He nodded but stared down at the ground, lost in his own thoughts. "He talked to me about some of his coworkers whom I realized could be parents of my ‘classmates’.”

  Throughout high school, Carter had dealt with the immaturity around her, knowing that after high school it would get better. She didn’t know how hard it must be for Donovan to hear from his brothers exactly how much better it was and knowing he still had to wait another two years.

  "I’m sorry,” she said. Donovan rested his head back on the metal partition, contemplating the ceiling. "What you're doing matters.”

  He said nothing.

  "Link is able to have a normal life because of you.” Finally, Donovan met her gaze. “With all the crap he has to deal with, that's a gift. Don't forget that. He is grateful for it and so am I.”

  Carter waited, hoping he could hear her conviction and accept the truth. After a minute, he straightened his shoulders and she could see his renewed resolve.

  “Maybe next time you can just tell me what's going on and I won’t have to pester you.”

  Donovan grinned. "I'll work on it."

  “Now move aside,” Carter said, elbowing him out of the stall. “I'm not wasting a chance to shoot something."

  Chuckling, Donovan backed away to watch. Carter replaced the target sheet and she picked up her gun, loading the clip. Taking in a deep breath, she raised it. Exhaling,
she squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled but she kept her arms steady and continued to shoot in a planned out formation.

  With the clip emptied, she lowered the gun. She pressed a button and the target rushed back. Donovan walked forward, followed by Link, his gaze trained on the target sheet. He remained indifferent but when he looked at her there was a hint of intrigue in his eyes. In the target's chest was a smiley face made from bullet holes. Link laughed as Donovan stared at Carter.

  She shrugged. "I thought it would cheer you up,"

  He smiled at her, which she couldn't help but return. She unclipped the sheet as he gathered up his items. They left the echo of bullets and walked back to the quiet storefront.

  "How did it go today?" Mark asked as they set their gear down on the counter.

  Carter held up her target sheet. "I'm feeling pretty positive."

  Link chuckled as Mark shook his head in amusement. Donovan surveyed the photos on the back wall, stopping at one in particular. "Is that the first day you came?" he asked Carter.

  Carter found the photo in question. In it, she was a gangly girl, standing by her father, gun out to her side.

  "He took me here when I was sixteen." A quiet smile appeared on her lips. "It was a birthday present."

  Another photo caught her attention. Narrowing her eyes, she stepped closer to the counter. She pointed at it. “Mark, who is that man? The one in the center of the group, with the scars on his neck."

  Mark lumbered over to the wall and studied the photo. "That's Ben," he said, tapping the curled picture. "He comes here a lot with this group. They are all former Army men. Sad story. He was in an ambush with three other platoons years back. That's how he got those scars. Half of the men didn't make it."

  Carter felt her throat tighten as she thought of her father and of the new scar he wore on his shoulder.

  "You know him?" Mark asked.

  She found she couldn't speak.

  "He works at our school," Donovan said.

  Mark gave an approving nod. "Well, he is a good man to have around."

  As they exited, the sun was nowhere in sight, leaving the sky dark. Link got into the back of the car but Donovan stopped Carter with a hand on her arm. "You alright?"