Chasing the Dragon

by T. K. Leigh

  For a job that was supposed to be a cakewalk − get in, get the information, and get out − this was quickly turning into one of the most challenging assignments I’d ever had.

  “Tyler?” Mackenzie’s provocative voice crooned, forcing my eyes away from her lips and to her eyes, which didn’t help matters.

  “Yes?” I gulped, trying to keep my gaze fixed on hers and not leer at her voluptuous chest that a snug white tank top accentuated all too well.

  “Eyes up here, buddy.” She winked, jumping from the couch and heading into her kitchen. “Do you like Mexican? That’s what I have planned for tonight…black bean and spinach enchiladas.”

  I followed, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar as she rummaged through her refrigerator, taking out a bunch of items. “I’m not a picky eater. You name it, I’ll eat it. After being in the military, you learn to eat what you can get.”

  “Navy, right?” Mackenzie asked, turning around to face me. She pulled out a cutting board that was hidden in the island and began chopping some spinach.

  “Yeah, like my brother. But I did my four years and that was it. I thought it would help…”

  “Yes?” she asked, obviously anxious for more information.

  “Just help me find some sort of direction in life, I suppose.”

  She pinched her lips, eyeing me skeptically. “Yeah. Sure. I have a feeling there’s more to the story than just wanting to find direction.”

  “That’s it. I had just graduated college−”

  “Truth or dare?” she interrupted.

  “Truth, and I went to Boston University.”

  “When did you move here?” she asked.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I do believe you’re breaking the rules. Only one question per turn.”

  “What can I say? I’m a rebel. I like to break the rules once in a while.” She bent down and rummaged through one of the cabinets.

  My eyes followed her movements, taking in her adorable backside. “I like that about you. Well, a rebel in all things, except that damn timetable of yours.”

  She placed a mixing bowl and two wine glasses on the counter, keeping her back to me. “Life is better when planned,” she said softly, pulling the cork out of a bottle of red wine. She poured some into the two glasses and spun around, gasping when she ran into my body.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, my fingers caressing her brow. “Don’t you like the rush of the unexpected? Never knowing who you might meet? Who might sweep you off your feet?” I took the two wine glasses from her and placed them on the counter, closing the distance between us.

  “Who you might want to break the rules with?” I hovered over her, both of our chests rising and falling as we looked deep into each other’s eyes. Grabbing her hips, I lifted her small body onto the counter and planted several kisses on her neck. “Who you might want to break your rules for?”

  “A plan is better,” she reiterated. “Otherwise, there’s too much room for error. For heartache.”

  “I’ll never hurt you,” I said, unable to stop the words from coming out of my mouth. I would hurt her, probably more than anyone else ever had. The minute she realized I had only approached her because it was my job, she would never forgive me.

  Mackenzie cleared her throat and began to push against my chest. “It’s late and I’m getting tired.” She jumped down from the counter and took out a few more pots and pans. “Let’s eat so I can get some sleep. I have a long drive tomorrow.”

  “Where? And why am I now just hearing about this?”

  “I’m going to San Antonio, and you’re just hearing about it now because it doesn’t concern you.” She glared at me and I backed off.

  “Well, you better take some time this week to rest up,” I said deviously, lightening the mood. “You’ll need your strength for Friday.”

  “Oh really?” she asked, turning on the stovetop and giving me a sly look from over her shoulder. “What precisely do you have planned?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

  “Oh, Mr. Burnham,” she said, giggling. “You know exactly how to keep a girl on her toes, don’t you?”

  “No. But I know how to keep you on your toes, and that’s all I care about, Miss Delano.” I went to her, sweeping her hair to one side, planting a faint kiss on her shoulder. “Only you,” I murmured and her body quivered, goosebumps becoming visible on her silky skin.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  “THAT’S IT. IT’S OFFICIAL,” I said, rubbing my belly and leaning back on the couch.

  “What is?” Mackenzie asked, following my lead and sinking into the cushions as the television flickered in front of us.

  “You just weaseled your way into my heart, Mackenzie. You know the old adage that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? Well, it’s absolutely true. Damn, woman! You can cook.”

  She grinned, finishing her wine and placing her glass on the coffee table. “Thanks. I learned from my mama. She loved to cook. I remember spending hours in the kitchen with her when I was growing up. Oh, the food we would make.”

  Glancing at her, I could sense a hint of vulnerability about her I hadn’t noticed before. “What happened? To your mom? You mentioned something about thinking your ex−”

  “It was a car accident,” she said softly. “But I know he had to be involved.”

  “How?”

  “I just do. He had said if I didn’t…” She trailed off. “Well, that’s not important. He inferred something was going to happen to my family, and that same weekend, she was killed in a car wreck. I told the police about everything, but they said there wasn’t enough evidence to suspect foul play. They assured me all the threats he had made were just the ramblings of a schizophrenic who desperately needed professional help.”

  “But you don’t believe them?”

  “No. My gut just tells me there was more to my mother’s death than being a freak car accident. They said she was speeding. My mother never went over the speed limit. Never. And I know Charlie was responsible.”

  “What happened that weekend between you and Charlie?” I asked guardedly. I had combed through the file the CIA had given me about Mackenzie and not once was there any mention of an incident with a former boyfriend. I wondered what else they were keeping from us.

  “You know what?” She jumped up from the couch, grabbing the plates off the coffee table. “Let’s talk about something else. It doesn’t really matter. It was eight years ago and, after Friday, we’ll just be colleagues anyway, so there’s no reason to include you in any of the drama that’s been a part of my life.”

  She hastily retreated into the kitchen, turning the faucet on and rinsing the dishes.

  I followed close behind. “Please, allow me. You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

  “You don’t have to. I don’t mind.”

  “Mackenzie,” I said gravely. “Let me do this for you.” I stood behind her and reached around pulling her hands from the dirty dishes. “Please, give up control to me,” I begged, my voice raspy.

  She leaned into me and I couldn’t help but think how small her body was when pulled into my six-foot, four-inch frame. Without the heels that she normally wore, I towered over her by nearly a foot, and an overwhelming need to protect her coursed through me. I wanted to protect her from Charlie, from her past…and from me.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Just of the dishes, though.”

  I chuckled. “Yes. Just of the dishes.” I released my hold on her and went to work cleaning everything up. “I’ll work on you relinquishing control of your heart on Friday.”

  “Not my body?” Mackenzie asked, leaning on the kitchen island.

  “No, Mackenzie,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at her. “I want so much more than that. I want your heart…to possess it, to worship it, to open it up. And I’m not going to stop until I do.”

  “Swoon…,” she exhaled.

  “Did you just
say swoon?” I asked, smirking.

  “I didn’t know how else to respond to that, Tyler. You’ve done what no man has ever been able to do.” She retreated into the living room and collapsed on the couch.

  “What’s that?” I asked, placing the dishtowel on a rack and turning off the overhead lights.

  “You’ve made me completely speechless.”

  Beaming, I joined her, pulling a blanket on top of her body as I sat at the opposite end, her feet propped in my lap.

  “Don’t worry, mi cariño. I won’t let it go to my head.”

  She moved her leg slightly, using her foot to feel around as it lay on top of me. The movement immediately caused an excitement to course through me and I hardened under her touch.

  “Too late,” she joked, feeling the bulge in my pants.

  I grabbed her foot to stop her from starting something I wasn’t sure I was ready to finish just yet, and began rubbing gently. She relaxed back into the sofa and, within minutes, her breathing had grown rhythmic, her eyes closed.

  “Mackenzie…,” I whispered.

  No response.

  “Kenzie?”

  Still no answer.

  Sighing, I gingerly slid out from under her legs, wrapped her in my arms and carried her down the hall toward her bedroom. Placing her on the king-sized bed, I pulled the duvet over her before planting a delicate kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hoping my apology would clear my conscience for what I had to do to her.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I LAY AWAKE THAT night, staring at the ceiling of Mackenzie’s guest bedroom. Sleep had evaded me for the past several hours, my thoughts engrossed by the woman who slept so peacefully on the other side of the wall. I had almost gone to her no less than ten times, wanting to feel her body against mine, to listen to her breathing as she dreamed. Was she dreaming of me? I could only hope so.

  Everything I had learned about her and her connection to one of the most dangerous people at large today seemed to be at odds with the real Mackenzie. She had a beautiful heart and an even more caring soul, which made me question whether she really could be the daughter of Colonel Francis Galloway, a man who had gone underground over a decade ago after he was named as the mastermind behind one of the most gruesome acts of terrorism pre-9/11.

  He had been selling military secrets and arms to known terror organizations, using his position as a supervisory agent in Army Counterintelligence to cover his tracks. After the horrific attack on an embassy in Liberia, he disappeared and it was assumed he had perished alongside his victims. It wasn’t until over a decade later that intel surfaced indicating he was still alive but underground. Shortly thereafter, an agency official connected Mackenzie to Serafina Galloway. Based on the changed identity, he opined that she was well aware her father was still alive, that she knew Galloway’s exact location, and that she was covering for him. And if that were true, she could be facing prosecution, as well.

  A loud crash brought me from my thoughts and my feet were on the ground instantly. I grabbed the 40-caliber SIG Sauer pistol I hid in the nightstand, as well as a small flashlight. Padding softly towards the door, I pulled it open, chambering a round. Sneaking around the corner and into the hallway, I carefully but swiftly made my way toward the sound.

  “What was that?” I heard Mackenzie whisper, startling me. I spun around to see her standing right behind me, and I placed a finger on my lips.

  She nodded and her eyes traveled to my other hand, noticing the weapon I held. Confusion washed over her soft face and she mouthed, Why do you have a gun?

  “Later,” I responded underneath my breath, my voice barely audible. Turning back around, I proceeded down the hall and into the living area, spying broken glass in front of one of the smaller windows. My mind raced about what the hell could be going on. Each minute that passed made me believe this wasn’t the simple assignment I had thought it would be.

  I strode toward the glass, scanning the room for any indication that the culprit was still present. After doing a thorough sweep and not finding anything, I signaled for Mackenzie to come toward me.

  She snapped the light on. I leaned out the window and looked at the ground below.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Someone broke your window.”

  “I know that. I’m not a fucking idiot. Why? And how?”

  I gestured her to come closer and shined the flashlight out the window. “Fire escape, I presume,” I said.

  Pulling back, I strode down the hallway, my steps purposeful and determined. The aroma of cinnamon met me upon entering her bedroom. I went to the window that had been open when we arrived home and lifted it, my eyes spying another ladder.

  I turned around and gave her a severe look. “Tell me about Charlie. Now. This guy broke into your place last night. He’s a schizophrenic former Army Ranger. In my mind, that puts him first on the list of being a very big danger to you. What exactly did he say to you?”

  “Nothing,” she insisted. “He’s delusional. Like any true schizophrenic, he’s convinced there’s some sort of governmental cover-up.” She plopped down on her bed, eyeing me as I continued staring at her. “And why the fuck do you carry a gun? I know we live in Texas and all, but I didn’t have you pegged as one of those concealed carry guys.”

  “If Charlie did break in, would you rather I be armed or unarmed?”

  She tore her eyes from mine, glancing out the window. “Armed,” she said softly. A chill seemed to wash over her body and I imagined she was reliving a memory of her past, and not a good one.

  Softening my expression, I placed my weapon on her night table and pulled her body into mine, comforting her. “I know you don’t want to, but I would really like you to talk about Charlie.”

  She attempted to shrug me off. “There’s not much to tell that I haven’t already told you.”

  “Mackenzie, you can put on that act with your friends, but I know how to read people. I know how to read you. So, please, tell me what you’re keeping from me. I need to know you’re okay, and the only way I can protect you is if you tell me everything.”

  She lifted her eyes to mine, studying me. I could sense the internal struggle at that moment, determining whether to put her trust in me and share her past. She snuggled back against me, her shoulders relaxing as her body melted into mine.

  “Like I said,” she murmured softly, “Charlie has problems. When we met my freshman year of college, he was working in the Cryptology division of Army Counterintelligence at Fort Hood. We kind of hit it off, I guess. I liked being the girlfriend of a big, strong, older man like him. Everything was great for a while… Then, one night, he lost it. It was a Friday night and we made plans to go out to celebrate our six month anniversary. I spent all afternoon shopping for the perfect dress. At seven, I pulled back the door to my room and my face fell when I saw Charlie walking down the hall, still in his fatigues, a crazed look about him. He grabbed me by the arms and nearly pinned me against the wall. He sounded agitated and neurotic, telling me about being pulled from the fire. He kept saying there was a huge cover-up, that he was convinced I wasn’t who I said I was, and that the man he thought was my father was still alive. That’s when I realized he wasn’t dating me because he liked me. He was working a case.”

  “Was Charlie right?” I asked, my heart racing in my chest.

  She met my eyes. “No. I’ve never heard of the girl Charlie thought I was nor have I ever heard of the man he was convinced was my father. My real father died when I was a little girl. He was in the army and died on deployment.”

  “And you’re sure about all of this?”

  Mackenzie jumped up, leaning over me, her eyes on fire. “What? You don’t believe me?” she bellowed. “Of course you’d side with Charlie. He’s army. You’re navy. You all stick together, don’t you? Is that what they teach you in basic training? ‘Bros before hoes’ or some shit?”

  I raised myself from the bed and attempted to placa
te her. “No. That’s not it at all. But having a dad who worked for the CIA and a brother who’s a retired SEAL, you start to realize that, sometimes, there’s more to conspiracy theories than the government wants you to believe.”

  She spun on her heels, attempting to flee the room.

  “Mackenzie.” I reached for her arm, grabbing it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned you.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Please finish your story.”

  “That’s it, really,” she said, molding her body to mine. “As he was pleading with me to admit my father was still alive, three men in uniforms stormed down the hallway. One of them stuck a needle in him to sedate him and they hauled him away. I’ll never forget…”

  She let out a sob and I hugged her tighter, soothing her cries. “Shhh… It’s okay. I’m here.”

  She tore out of my embrace, lowering her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “We barely know each other and, not only have you been suckered into spending the night at my place, but now you’re stuck dealing with an emotional woman. I think I’m just tired from lack of sleep lately.”

  I pulled her back into my arms and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Then get some sleep.”

  Before she could say anything, I swooped her in my arms and carried her the few short steps toward the bed, placing her beneath the covers once more.

  Leaning down, I kissed her. “Sweet dreams, Mackenzie. I’ll be in the living room, patching up the window.” Grabbing my weapon and flashlight, I turned off the lamp on her night table and began to retreat when I felt her hand grip my arm.

  “Wait,” she said. “Can you stay?”

  I looked down and, even in the darkened room, I saw her eyes shimmering.

  “I feel…”

  “Yes?”

  “Scared, Tyler. Scared out of my fucking mind. Between Charlie, the phone calls, and the guy at the club last night, I don’t know what to think. Please, stay with me. In my bed. I don’t… I just need to know you’re near.”

  Sighing, I nodded, placing my gun back on the table. I climbed in beside her and molded her body to mine, her back to my front.