by Jessica Ashe
I order one of the wines Elena recommends, and the barmaid serves it on the house, together with an orange juice for Elena.
“Is Tanner about?” Elena asks the barmaid.
“He’s in the office with Daron. Do you want me to get him?”
“No, that’s fine. I’m sure I’ll see him at some point. He can never look at the books for longer than fifteen minutes without getting bored.”
The barmaid gives a knowing smile and we head to a table at the back.
“It must be great to own a bar,” I say to Elena.
“It will be in a few months when I’ve squeezed this little lady out of me.”
“You already know it’s a girl?”
Elena nods. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but my best friend insisted I find out so that she could help name the baby. It’s a long story. Do you have any children?”
“No. I haven’t been with my boyfriend for that long. And I’m not sure he’s really the type to have children, come to think of it.”
Elena laughs loudly. “You’d be surprised which men are the type. Tanner wasn’t exactly father-of the-year material when I met him. Now the babysitter has to tear him away from his son whenever it’s time to come here and work.”
Alec doesn’t even have furniture. I really can’t imagine him ever wanting children, but I just nod and smile. Children are a million miles away from being an issue right now. I think I want kids one day, but I’ll settle for knowing what the hell is going on with Alec.
I’m not imagining the way he looks at me. He doesn’t look at me like I’m someone he’s fucking. There’s more concern and admiration in his eyes than all my previous boyfriends combined. I know I look at him in the same way. I feel like a soppy teenager in a high school movie when I stare into his eyes. It would be pathetic if it didn’t feel so good when we’re together.
“Let’s see this new evidence, then,” Elena says, snapping me out of my trance.
I pass Elena my phone and let her look at the emails and pictures of the men Senator Robertson met with today and yesterday.
“I know we’re still a long way from beyond reasonable doubt,” I admit, “but this is all just from quick searches of his email account. Imagine what we could find if we got a warrant.”
“I am imagining that. Trust me, it’s all I’m thinking about right now. My team and I would have a field day going through his office.”
“But it’s not enough?”
“It might be. I’m going to have to piece it all together. I need to put these emails in order and present the chain of events to my boss. If she likes what she sees, then perhaps we go to a judge.”
“Is there anything else I can do to help?”
“Keep doing what you’re doing. And if you could get copies of his schedule going back a few months I’d really appreciate it. Then I can match the people he’s meeting to those sending these emails.”
“I can do that. The senator doesn’t take me seriously, but everyone else there does. They know the senator has received death threats, and they think I’m looking out for him. No one asks questions of me and I can use that to my advantage.”
“Excellent.” Elena looks pleased, but also slightly puzzled. “Why isn’t the senator taking the death threats seriously? He doesn’t strike me as particularly brave.”
I shrug. “I don’t think he’s brave at all. I guess he’s just an idiot.”
“Didn’t he specifically request that you be his bodyguard? Why would he request a bodyguard at all if he’s not going to take you seriously?”
I’ve been thinking that ever since I got the job. At first, I thought he picked me because he wanted a young woman around him all the time. Now I think the real reason is somewhat less flattering.
“Perhaps it’s to keep his staff calm?” I suggest. “He probably picked me specifically because I’m the least likely to get in his way.”
“Maybe,” Elena says. “It all seems a bit weird, though.”
“Everything about the senator is weird.”
Elena smiles and nods in agreement, before waving to a man by the bar who walks over to us.
“Is this your husband?” I ask.
“No, this is his business partner.”
The man comes over and kisses Elena on the cheek.
“Daron, this is Piper. She’s a friend from work.”
“Nice to meet you,” Daron says, holding out his hand.
“You too,” I say uncertainly, as I shake his hand. He looks familiar.
Elena and Daron talk for a few minutes while my brain tries to remember where I recognize him from. His voice isn’t familiar, so I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced. He certainly doesn’t seem to recognize me.
Where the hell do I know him from?
Daron? I don’t know any Daron’s. I know of one Daron.
“Excuse me,” I say when there’s a lull in the conversation. “This might sound a bit odd, but what’s your last name?”
Daron furrows his brow but replies quickly. “Costa. Daron Costa.”
I knew it. He’s Alec’s brother.
I laugh at the incredible coincidence. “I know your brother.”
Daron immediately turns serious, and Elena looks distinctly uncomfortable.
“I… I didn’t realize you were one of his friends,” Daron says awkwardly.
Do the two of them not get along? Alec never mentioned any falling out.
“Um, I suppose I’m a little more than a friend of his, if you get what I mean.”
“Wow,” Daron replies. “I never even knew you existed.”
Something’s incredibly wrong, and I have no idea what it is. Daron looks like he wants to run back to the office, and I don’t think Elena will ever bring me here again. What have I said that’s so bad?
“It’s great to meet you,” Daron says eventually. “If I’d have known, I’d have invited you.”
“Invited me? Invited me where?”
“To Alec’s funeral.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Alec
“Piper. Open up.”
My fist pounds loudly against her door, but there’s no response.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to see you,” a smarmy voice says behind me. I turn around to see Phil leaning against his door and looking rather pleased with himself.
“Fuck off, Phil.”
I listen for any sound coming from inside her apartment but don’t hear anything. I need to see her as soon as possible, before I change my mind about all this.
I’m going to tell her. The whole conversation in the coffee shop felt wrong. I wasn’t pleased with myself for telling a convincing lie; I felt like shit about it. Lying to someone you care for isn’t something to be proud of.
I won’t be able to tell her everything yet. I’m not going to tell her that Senator Robertson is responsible for the deaths of my friends, and I’ll leave out the detail about me planning to kill him. But I am going to tell her about my time with the SEALs. She deserves to know where I’ve been for the past five years, and why I live such an empty life.
My life doesn’t feel empty anymore. Not with her in it.
I text Piper on my way up the stairs and ask her to let me know when she’s home. To be honest, it will be a huge relief not to have to pretend to be a political correspondent anymore. I’ve had to go online and read about politics while Piper’s been at work just to make myself sound more convincing. I’d rather come clean than read one more bullshit article about politicians in DC squabbling over the tiniest details about bills that no one gives a shit about.
I don’t have to wait long to see Piper. She’s waiting for me in my apartment.
She doesn’t look pleased to see me.
“How did you get in here?” I ask.
I try to kiss her on the lips, but she turns her head and all I get is cheek.
“I’m a cop. I have ways of getting into apartments.”
“You found the key under the mat?”
Piper nods. “I took you as more security conscious than that.”
“I am, usually. But I also forget my keys a lot.”
I might have a photographic memory, but all it means is I can remember exactly where I left my keys when I’m locked out. I’m absent-minded as hell.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask.
She nods again and still looks really pissed at me. I’ve done plenty to justify her being angry at me, but I thought most of it was a secret. She’s supposed to get mad at me after I confess to all the lies I’ve told her. I’ve heard that couples often fight about the silliest little things. Maybe that’s all this is. In an hour we could be having great make-up sex.
“Water okay?”
“Fine.”
Good, because it’s all I have.
I pass her a glass of water which she takes from my hand but doesn’t drink.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here in my apartment? Judging by the look on your face, I’m going to guess this isn’t a booty call.”
“No, it’s not. And there won’t be any more booty calls unless you tell me the truth.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you.” I was going to anyway.
“I know you’ve been lying to me. I should have figured it all out earlier. There’s been too many weird comments. You don’t know jack shit about politics, so I know all that political correspondent stuff is a lie. You’ve clearly been discussing me with Shauna—that’s how you knew about my day off.”
“I can explain all that.”
“Go on then,” Piper commands. “Explain it. And while you’re at it, make sure you include the detail about being dead for the last five years.”
“What? How the hell do you know that?”
I don’t care if she’s a cop, she couldn’t have found that out. I was a SEAL—my records are highly classified.
“I had a painfully embarrassing meeting with your brother,” Piper explains. “Care to tell me why he thinks you’re dead?”
“You met my brother? Daron?”
I’m on the verge of throwing up. It’s guilt. Guilt that I haven’t gone to see him yet, or even let him know I’m alive. Doesn’t seem much point in telling him I’m alive if I end up getting killed or arrested. Shauna looked him up and told me he was happy. That’s all I need to know for the time being. I’ve done the right thing on paper, but that doesn’t change the fact that my brother is out there mourning my death when I’m in an apartment the other side of the city. As sound as my logic may be, these are real people with real feelings we’re talking about. He might never forgive me.
“Yes,” Piper says. “I met your brother. He seems nice, although once I mentioned you, the conversation turned rather dour.”
“Did you tell him I was alive?”
“No. The whole situation had me so confused, I couldn’t get out of there quick enough. I made an excuse and left. What’s going on? You better tell me quickly and convincingly, or I’m out of here and I’m not coming back.”
“We should sit down,” I suggest.
“On what?” Piper says, motioning around the empty room. “I’m not sitting on the mattress with you, so I guess we’d better just stand.”
Where the hell do I start? The beginning sounds like the obvious place, but I’m not even sure where that is. Besides, my story is so fanciful and ridiculous, she might not believe it. Maybe her run-in with Daron was a blessing in disguise. The part about me being officially dead for five years can’t come as a huge shock now.
Let’s start with the easy bit.
“I’m not a political correspondent,” I admit.
“Yeah, no shit. For future reference, when lying about your career, maybe go with something a little more believable.”
“Like a musician? I’m tone deaf. But yeah, perhaps I could have chosen a better career.”
“So what do you do. Deal drugs?”
“Fuck no. Of course not.”
“Clearly whatever it is, you deal in cash.”
“I don’t really have a job right now. The cash came from a generous benefactor, but it won’t last forever. I’m ex-military.”
“You’re a vet?” Piper asks.
I nod. “More believable?”
Piper looks me up and down. She’s always admired my body, but there’s usually a spark behind her eyes when she looks at my muscles. Now she’s serious, contemplative.
“I can believe that,” Piper replies. “What branch?”
“Navy. More specifically, I was a SEAL.”
“A SEAL? Okay, now you’ve veered off into unbelievable territory again.”
“You don’t think I could be a SEAL?”
“I don’t know, maybe. But the SEALs are the best of the best. I fail to believe one of them would be living like this in a rundown apartment block with a mouse problem. I know we don’t always treat our vets properly, but surely a former SEAL would get special treatment.”
“I wish. We’re anonymous, so it’s not like we can milk it. Wait, we have a mouse problem here? Shit, I fucking hate mice.”
“You want me to believe you’re a SEAL, but you’re scared of mice?”
“I didn’t say I was scared of them. I just hate them. Creepy little things, scurrying around everywhere.” I shiver and then laugh as I realize how ridiculous I sound. I spent five years in an Iraqi prison, enduring some of the worst conditions imaginable. Piper’s right, a mouse shouldn’t bother me.
“Let’s pretend I believe you,” Piper says. “You still haven’t explained anything. And don’t give me any crap about the information being classified. I’m sure it is, but I don’t give a shit.”
“I’m not sure what counts as classified, and what doesn’t. Honestly, some of the things I’m about to tell you, the US government doesn’t even know about to classify in the first place.”
“In other words, it will be impossible to verify what you’re telling me.”
“Yes. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
Piper doesn’t say anything, but eventually she takes a sip of the water and nods for me to get on with it.
“I’ll save you all the details about my life before I became a SEAL. It’s not all that original. I didn’t have a great upbringing, and it’s a miracle I didn’t end up in prison. I would have, but Daron took the blame for me. Anyway, I joined the Navy to get away from my parents and life in general, and then ended up in the SEALs.”
“Just like that?”
“It wasn’t easy, but they needed a sharpshooter, and I was a natural with the sniper rifle.”
I’m sure I catch Piper glance quickly over to the closet where I keep my gun. It’s a quick, almost imperceptible flicker of the eyes, but I’m convinced she knows what I keep in that box.
“For a year,” I continue, “I didn’t go on any particularly exciting missions. We took out a few important people, but none of our activities ever made the news. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. My final mission was routine in every sense of the word. We shouldn’t have even been doing it really—we were vastly overqualified—but we were the only ones available. We were sent to check out a possible training camp. There wasn’t supposed to be any combat—it was just drive up, maybe take some pictures, drive back. Easy.”
“How many of you were there?” Piper asks.
“Seven, including me. They genuinely were all great guys. I’m not going to pretend that everyone in the military is a good person. They’re not. Even the SEALs have their share of jackasses, but my group gelled and we all liked each other. That’s not easy when you’re in a high-pressure environment like we were.”
Piper forces the tiniest of smiles. “I can imagine. I didn’t even manage to stay friends with my college roommates because of the pressure of exams.”
“Exactly,” I agree, forcing a smile on my own. “Anyway, we go on this mission and it ends up being anything but routine. A missile gets fired at our trucks, and gunmen come out of nowhere. It was an ambush�
�they were lying in wait.”
I tell Piper what happened in as much detail as I can muster. It’s only when I’ve finished telling the story that I realize it’s only the third time I’ve said it aloud. I told Wade after he rescued me, and I told Shauna because she wanted to know what happened to her brother. I’ve dreamt about what happened so many times that it feels crystal-clear in my head, but putting it into words is always harder than I imagine.
Piper stays silent entire time, and I can tell that despite her earlier remarks, she does completely believe me. The seriousness of my tone and the shakiness of my voice must make it obvious I’m not lying.
“You were left for dead?” Piper asks.
“Yeah. I was convinced I was dying, and maybe I did at one point. Felton wouldn’t have left me unless I looked like a goner, so it must have been bad.”
“Then what happened?”
“The enemy found me and took me back to their base. When I woke up, two days had passed and all the bullets had been removed from my body. The conditions weren’t exactly five-star, but they had a great doctor and decent medical supplies, so other than a minor infection, I ended up being okay. Physically. That is, until the torture started.”
Piper goes pale and I realize it might be a good idea to downplay some of what happened. I don’t want to lie to her anymore, but she doesn’t need to hear all the gory details.
“What did they talk to you about?”
“They knew I was a SEAL and assumed I’d have information they could use. Of course, I didn’t have anything to tell them, even if I wanted to. Just like everyone else, SEALs are only given information on a need-to-know basis, and at the time I probably knew less than CNN about the wider conflict.”
“How long did this go on for?”
Years.
“I’m not sure. They stopped when they realized I didn’t have anything to tell them. And they wanted to keep me alive. Like I said, they had a good doctor and he took a genuine interest in my well-being. God only knows how he ended up working for them, but he was one of the good guys. I’d have died for real if it weren’t for him.”
“So they kept you in prison for five years?”
