by David Yates
She was silent, her hand still resting on his. He continued.
"So, the whole point is, I can't see you anymore.” He added quickly, “It's not because I don't want to. It's for your own welfare. But it's absolutely necessary that we don't see each other again."
She withdrew her hand and crossed her arms, looking back out over the Gulf. The sun had disappeared; the only sign of its passage was the golden glow beyond the horizon. She sat that way for a full minute, not talking, not moving.
Finally she turned back to Braden and said, “No."
Braden was taken aback. He sat speechless for a few moments, and then echoed, “No?"
"No,” she said firmly.
Now it was Braden's turn to study the Gulf. His eyes roamed the water as he tried to think of what to say. He tried and subsequently rejected several things in his mind. His gaze moved back to her.
"Kendra...” he began.
"No,” she repeated. “I'm not going to let someone I don't even know dictate how I live my life."
"Kendra, you don't understand how dangerous these people are,” he said. “When I said they would hurt you, that wasn't quite strong enough. If they know you are connected with me in any way, they will kill you."
The line on her forehead was back. Braden was already beginning to think of it as her I-want line. As in, I-want it and I'm going to have it, or, I-want it and God help anyone who stands in my way. Braden found it oddly endearing and rather cute. He intuited that she had driven her father crazy with her I-want line for her whole life, and she probably would continue to do so. He could picture her father caving in to her time after time when the I-want line came into play.
In response to his last comment, she replied, “You let me worry about that. I'm a big girl and I know what I'm doing.” And with that, she leaned in and kissed Braden full on the lips.
By the time she finally pulled away, Braden was in respiratory distress. He gazed into her eyes, and she gazed right back. She was still leaning forward, her arms propped on her crossed legs.
She said softly, “You look right into my eyes and tell me that you want me to leave. Convince me that you really want me to leave. You do that, and I'll get up and go. And I won't come back."
He sat looking into her eyes. They gazed at each other without speaking for some thirty seconds. Braden was weighing her kiss, her skin, her maddening perfume against the danger that she would be in if he allowed her to stay. The previous night's dream recurred to him again, and that's what finally made up his mind for him. He said, “I'm really sorry, but I have to ask you to leave."
She sat back in her chair, a surprised look on her face. Her lips tightened and she nodded briefly. She stood and walked to the top of the stairs leading down to the beach. Before her foot hit the first step, she stopped and turned back to him. Her hands were planted on her hips and the I-want line was back with a vengeance. She stared at him for a few moments and said simply, “No."
Braden raised his eyebrows. “No?” Man, talk about dej vu, he thought.
She strode purposefully back to his side. She bent over and placed her arms around his neck. She was smiling now.
"No,” she said. “You didn't convince me."
She kissed him again, deeply this time. His hands came up to her waist and rested there. Her kiss was slow and passionate, and seemed to go on for about a week.
When she pulled away, she rested her forehead on his, her hands linked behind his neck. His hands still rested lightly at her waist.
"Sorry, pal,” she said, “but I'm not going anywhere. Deal with it."
In the dead hours of morning sometime between midnight and dawn, Braden rolled onto his back in bed, mostly asleep. When he was settled, Kendra (also mostly asleep) rolled over and draped her arm over his chest. Braden felt her arm resting on him and remembered who she was and what had happened the previous evening.
Oh, boy, I really stepped in the bull butter this time, he thought as he was edging back toward sleep. You're crazy, kid; what were you thinking?
He put his hand on Kendra's arm. Despite his misgivings, he was wearing a small smile as he drifted off.
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Chapter 13
Braden had been searching for Silas for almost a month, with absolutely zero success. The primary reason for his failure to find anything was simply that he had no idea of where to look. He had no starting point from which to begin. He had simply been conducting random searches in the hope that he would stumble across something.
He was sitting on the deck one evening after dinner, waiting for Kendra to arrive. As usual, his thoughts were on Silas. Or, more to the point, on how to find Silas. If only I knew where to start, he thought, and slammed his open palm on the arm of the chair. What have I missed? Come on, Braden, you're supposed to be such a super-intelligent uber-genius. So think.
He spent the next several minutes mulling over his predicament when he suddenly sat up straight in his chair. The idea was so simple that he had completely overlooked it. Yeah, you're really intelligent, all right, he thought to himself. You were looking for the needle in the haystack so hard that you sailed right past the obvious.
He stood up and glanced down the beach. Kendra was nowhere in sight. He hurried into the house and strapped on his weapons. He donned the leather duster, then grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a quick note to Kendra.
Kendra,
Had to leave to take care of some business. No worries. Will call you tomorrow.
B-
He stuck the note to the sliding door on the deck. He took another quick look down the beach. There was still no sign of Kendra. Standing on the deck, he traveled.
There was a small stand of trees separating Braden's tiny back yard from the beach. Kendra had made the short trek from her house to Braden's. As she was about to round the last tree and turn into Braden's yard, she looked up and saw him hurry out the back door and slide it closed, sticking a small piece of paper on the door. She was about to call out to him when he turned and looked down the beach, then...disappeared. He didn't pop out suddenly, like on that old TV show Bewitched; he faded out slowly, ghostly.
Kendra stopped dead and stared at the empty deck in shock, mouth agape.
Braden appeared in a stall in the men's room at Kansas City International Airport, the same restroom he had used just before...well, before. He exited the stall and left the restroom. He strode down the concourse and stopped a passing airline employee. He asked her where the Lost Luggage department was, and she gave him directions.
He followed the concourse to a glass door marked Unclaimed Baggage, keeping a sharp eye out for airport security. He continued past the door, glancing in as he walked by. There were two employees behind the counter. They were both dealing with a customer who was apparently not very happy judging by his body language.
Braden went past the door and turned into an alcove containing a bank of pay phones. Two of the phones were currently in use. One of the men glanced up at Braden as he picked up a phone and pretended to make a call. When he was sure that no one was watching him, he traveled into the rear area of Unclaimed Baggage.
He found himself in a narrow corridor. He glanced back through an open door at the backs of the two Unclaimed Baggage employees. They were still trying to appease the customer, who was getting more irate by the second. He turned and walked down the corridor. The first door he came to was on his right and had a large window in its upper half. He looked in and saw shelves stacked with luggage. He walked in and closed the door behind him.
It took him nearly thirty minutes to find Manny's baggage, but once he found it, he worked quickly. He searched the bags and found what he was looking for. He removed and pocketed the two external hard drives. He also found several small multi-colored sticks. He pocketed the flash drives as well and rose to leave. As an afterthought, he picked up the case containing Manny's laptop and slipped quietly out of the room.
He glanced to his right
and saw that the short corridor ended about twenty feet away. He looked for an exit sign above the doors but saw none. He turned back in the other direction and eased up the corridor, toward the Unclaimed Baggage office. After the long transport from Florida and the short one into the Unclaimed Baggage area, he knew his batteries were empty.
He heard raised voices before he reached the open door to the office. He stopped and peeked around the corner. There were now two airport security officers there, trying to mediate the argument between the employees and the irate customer. Braden saw with dismay that one of the officers was the same one who had drawn down on him a couple of months before. He glanced ahead to the end of the corridor and saw a door giving onto the concourse. He could see people moving past in both directions on the concourse through the small square window set into the top of the door. He had no doubt that there was a small sign on the outside of the door reading Authorized Personnel Only.
He looked back into the front office. The two employees had their backs to him. The customer had worked himself into a frenzy over one lost bag. He had redirected his wrath from the employees to the officers. He was currently claiming that his lost luggage was none of their business, and that they had no right to be sticking their noses in. He moved up close to one of the officers and started yelling in his face. The officer (the same one Braden had dealt with before) put his hand on the man's chest and asked him to back up. The man swiped the officer's hand away and pushed him. The other officer grabbed the man in a bear hug, and the fight was on.
Braden took this golden opportunity and walked past the office door and opened the door leading to the concourse. He strode calmly to the nearest exit and walked to a parked taxi. He got in and asked the driver to take him to the nearest motel.
Braden was at his computer the following afternoon, going through the files on Manny's hard drive. He had missed lunch in his excitement over the possibility of finding something about Silas in the files. His stomach reminded him rather noisily of this fact, and he rose to go to the kitchen, intending to grab something quick and return to the computer. As he was passing through the living room, he glanced out at the deck. Kendra was seated there in her usual chair, looking out at the Gulf. He redirected his steps and went outside.
"Hey,” he said as he stepped out the door.
"Hey yourself,” she replied, looking steadily at him.
He sat in the other chair and said, “I was going to call you later. Why didn't you tell me you were here?"
She didn't respond immediately. She just sat and stared at him. It didn't take him long to begin feeling uneasy. He squirmed in his seat.
"Have I got a booger hanging out or something?” he finally asked, trying to be light.
She wasn't amused. She asked him, “Who are you, Braden?"
He couldn't think of anything to say. He could only return her gaze, mouth slightly open.
"I was here yesterday afternoon,” she said softly.
"So you got my note?” he asked.
"Oh, yes, I got the note,” she replied.
After a moment, Braden adjusted his sitting position and said, “Excuse me, but am I missing something here? Is something wrong?"
"I don't know. Is there?” she replied cryptically.
"Okay, I know enough to know that's female for ‘yes',” Braden said. “What did I do to make you mad?"
She softened a bit...but only a bit. She turned and looked back out at the water. “I'm not mad. I'm just...I don't know."
Braden inwardly exhaled in relief. At least she's not mad at me. “Will you just tell me what's bothering you?"
She turned back to him and looked at him directly. “When I was here yesterday, I saw you on the deck. Then you...you just weren't there anymore. Can you explain that?"
Ah, crap, Braden thought. He looked out across the water, trying to think of what to tell her. She waited patiently. He could feel her eyes burning a hole through his head.
Still looking out across the rail, he said, “It's...complicated.” He glanced at her. She was sitting and looking back at him with a set expression on her face. That expression said, “I'm going to have an explanation, and I'm not leaving until I get it.” The I-want line was back on her forehead. Braden knew her well enough now to know that there was no denying her when she was in this state.
He sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. His eyes were cast downward, examining the surface of the deck. It occurred to him that a lot of women might have been frightened away by their boyfriend suddenly disappearing into thin air, but not Kendra. He felt an odd sort of pride for her. This girl's got steel in her.
Finally he began to speak. “I call it traveling. That's what my mom...a doctor friend of mine called it, and so that's what I call it."
Kendra sat silently, waiting for him to continue. The I-want line was still there, and Braden knew it wouldn't disappear until she got what she wanted. He wondered again how much money her father had spent on her over the years because of that line. Once it appeared, it would be hard for any man to deny her. It just made her so damned irresistible.
He didn't tell her everything, at least not at first. He told her about his mental abilities, and of how Gwen Wiley had helped him to develop and refine them. He didn't tell her about The Orchard, or of Anson and his cronies, or of Silas and his band of mercenaries. He also didn't tell her about his skills with weapons and martial-arts.
When he was finished, Kendra asked, “Does this have anything to do with the reason that these people are looking for you?"
"Well, not really. I guess indirectly it does, but the real reason is...there's this guy named Silas. His brother died, and he blames me for it. He wants revenge, and he's vowed not to stop until I'm dead."
"And are you responsible for his brother's death?” Kendra asked.
"You get right to the point, don't you?” he asked. She said nothing, simply waiting for an answer which she knew she would get.
"Yes,” Braden said. “I killed him, but it was in self-defense.” He was hoping she wouldn't ask for details, but of course she blasted that idea right out of the water with her next words, as he had known she would.
"Tell me what happened.” It wasn't a question.
And since he could think of no other way to say it, he told her about Anson and Kobriger and the others. This, of course, led to The Orchard and the reason he had grown up there. He spoke for nearly an hour, and she didn't interrupt him. He told her of his training. He told her of his love for Gwen Wiley and Joe Bemis, and of their deaths. He told her of Manny and Archer and Hollingsworth. And he told her of Sam and their child, who never had a chance to start living. There were more than a few tears in the telling, and by the time he was finished she was holding his hand.
When he was done he felt drained. She wordlessly stood and led him into the house by the hand. She took him to the bedroom and put him in bed, lying down next to him. She held him as he drifted off to sleep.
They were having a simple meal of grilled cheese sandwiches and soup that evening. They kept their chat light during dinner, not talking about the serious matters that had spilled from Braden earlier in the afternoon. When they were finished, Kendra pushed her dishes away and sat back in her chair.
She was the first to broach the subject. “If Silas left you lying there in that room at the airport, isn't it possible that he thinks you're already dead?"
Braden thought about it. “I guess it's possible, but I don't know."
After a moment, she said, “If he does think you're dead, then you have nothing to worry about. You won't have to look over your shoulder anymore, because he'll never be there. You can just let it go."
Braden looked at her. She saw ice in his eyes. “I can't let it go. He killed my friends. He killed Sam.” He added in a lower tone, “He killed my child."
"So what are you going to do?” she asked anxiously. “Are you going to hunt him down? Kill him?” She was obviously not happy about that prospe
ct. “Wouldn't that make you just like him?"
"I am nothing like him,” Braden retorted hotly. “He kills for money. He'll do anything if it pays enough. He's nothing but a whore."
"And what are you killing for?” She wouldn't let it drop. “Simple revenge. Braden, I'm sorry about your friends, and I'm sorry about Sam and the baby. But this doesn't seem like the right way to handle it."
What would be the right way to handle it?” he asked.
She leaned toward him, taking his hand. “Just leave it alone. Let it be. You have your life here now. You have a house with a view that a lot of people would die for.” She paused, then added, “And you have me. Just let it go."
He dropped his head momentarily, and then gazed out to the horizon. “I can't,” he said simply.
Braden was at the computer at 8 pm. He was slogging through the files on Manny's hard drive but not making much progress. His mind was on other things. Kendra had left several hours earlier. She hadn't been angry, but she was preoccupied and a little disturbed. Braden guessed that she must be worried about him; at least, he hoped that was all it was. He had grown quite fond of her in a relatively short time. Thinking of this now, he found that he was surprised to learn that he had been lonely without even realizing it.
He was about to give it up for a lost cause when he heard the deck door sliding open. He grabbed the gun on the desk and peeked out of the office door. Kendra was standing there just inside the door. They eyed each other, and Kendra walked across the room to him. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"What was that for?” he asked when she had pulled back.
"It was an apology,” she said.
Without missing a beat, Braden responded, “Then could you repeat it? I didn't quite hear it."
She smiled and apologized again. When their lips separated the second time, her face assumed a resolute expression. She spoke directly, as she always did.
"If you're going to do this, then I'll do what I can to help you."
He immediately shook his head. “Kendra, I don't want you getting in the middle of...” He stopped as the I-want line made a dramatic entrance. He tried again. “You know how dangerous these people are.” Her and her I-want line just gazed back at him silently. “Kendra, listen...” He wasn't even making a dent. Damn, he thought. She's gonna win again. One side of his brain said exasperatingly, Why can't I put my foot down and tell her ‘absolutely not'? Especially on this one thing? The other half immediately responded. Because when she gets her face set in that irritatingly cute expression, she's completely undeniable.
