Eight Years: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book One)

by Donna Schwartze

  “Are you ready?” I say, averting my eyes.

  “Yeah.” She stuffs everything into her beach bag and hands my towel back to me. “Thanks for the towel.”

  She’s seriously the most low-maintenance woman I have ever met. It’s so hot to me. I follow her around the truck and hesitantly give her my hand to help her climb up. The last time she took my hand, I’m surprised the electricity that shot through me didn’t singe her.

  She’s putting her wet, messy curls up in a big knot on top of her head when I get in on my side. She finishes and looks at me. “Do you want me to put your hair up, too?”

  “It’s not that long.” It really is. I’m overdue for a haircut by about a month.

  “I don’t know. It’s getting real hippie looking,” she says, laughing.

  I shake my head to assess the length. Yeah, it’s long. “You probably know from your dad. We aren’t the best groomers.”

  “Yeah, he had really deep auburn hair, and for some reason, his hair grew tall instead of long, and his beard was always really spiky. He looked like a devilish Chia Pet.” She laughs honestly for the first time since I’ve met her.

  She stops suddenly and looks at me, her eyes wide.

  “That’s the first thing you’ve told me about him without me forcing it out of you,” I say, knowing what she’s thinking.

  She smiles and turns toward the window. I put my hand on her leg as I start the car. She doesn’t make me move it. It stays there until we get to her hotel. She just sits in the truck until I walk around to open her door. I lift her down and position her way closer to me than she needs to be. I just stand there with her between me and the truck.

  She looks up at me with those eyes, those fucking eyes. “Mason, I have a boyfriend.”

  “I know.” It’s all I can think of to say.

  “And, you and I work together. It would just be weird.”

  “I know that, too.” I do know that. And, I know Culver would kill me. None of it matters much to me, though.

  “I should go.” She moves a bit, and I let her get around me.

  She walks toward her room, and I follow her. She turns around, her eyes questioning me.

  “Just making sure you get in safely.” I turn around to walk back to my truck.

  “Mason,” I hear her say quietly behind me. I turn around immediately.

  She takes a deep breath. “Thank you. . . for today. I haven’t talked about him for such a long time. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was kind of nice.”

  I take a few steps back toward her, and put my hands on her shoulders. “Any time you want to talk about him—I mean any time—no matter where I am, you can call me.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes widening as she takes a deep breath. “I haven’t let myself talk about him because I knew once I opened the dam, the water would just never stop coming out. I can’t have that in my job. But just letting a little bit out at a time doesn’t seem so bad. You’re the only person I’ve really opened up to since it happened.”

  Her eyes start to tear up, so I grab her and hold her tightly to my chest. She lets me. It’s the second time today she’s rested on my chest, and there is nothing in this world that has ever felt so right. I’m not sure how long we stood like that, but when she finally starts to pull away, I give her one last gentle squeeze and kiss the top of her head.

  I walk away backward, still facing her. “I’m not leaving until I hear the door lock behind you. Go.”

  “You’re seriously so bossy.” She laughs that honest laugh again. She closes the door, and I hear the deadbolt click.

  I shake my head violently to try to get some blood flowing to that area of my body again. God, what is she doing to me?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Outer Banks, North Carolina

  2008

  Mack stopped in the house when he arrived in the Outer Banks to give Camille some extra money for Millie to join the local swim club. He was one hundred percent sure they couldn’t teach her anything he hadn’t already taught her, but her friends were joining, and it seemed important to her. Mack found Camille in the kitchen.

  “Hey. Here’s that extra money for the Y swim club,” he said, tossing the envelope on the table. “Where’s Millie?”

  “Oh, that child’s off feeling sorry for herself somewhere. She’s been in a mood for the entire week,” Camille said dismissively.

  “Millie’s never in a bad mood. What’s wrong with her?”

  “Well first, hormones. They’re spreading through her like the plague,” Camille said.

  Mack could have done without that information. She was barely thirteen. He had hoped it was way too early for all that.

  “And second, some boy’s been picking on her at school,” Camille said.

  Mack snapped back immediately from his thoughts, his face suddenly serious. “What boy? Where? What’s his name? Where does he live?”

  “There’s no need to get all upset. I told her the boy just probably likes her. That’s how they show it at that age.”

  “Likes her? She’s thirteen. She’s way too young for any of that, Camille.”

  “Well, nevertheless, it’s here. I had boys swarming around me pretty regularly by that age,” she said.

  Mack tried to think back to when he was thirteen. His memory wasn’t what it used to be, but he was pretty damn sure he was still only interested in video games and guns at that age.

  “I’m going to look for her,” Mack said.

  “You coddle her, Mack. She needs to develop thicker skin,” Camille called after him.

  Mack kept walking. He knew Camille was partially right. Millie needed to be physically tough. That’s why he had been training her on self-defense and weapons since she was five. But, mental toughness was another thing. Millie was sweet, trusting, and affectionate—qualities Mack had never had until Millie came into his life. He wanted so badly for her to retain that innocence.

  Mack knew Millie would be under the lilac bushes, as usual. She had figured out early in her life that Camille was deathly afraid of bees and would never come near that side of the yard in the summer.

  “Hey, Mills,” Mack said, watching the bees fly peacefully around her.

  Of course, she’s finally won them over to her side, Mack thought, smiling.

  “Hey,” she said dejectedly without looking up at him.

  “You wanna come out of there?” Mack asked. He didn’t much like bees either.

  She rolled over and quickly army-crawled out of the bushes. He couldn’t help but feel proud of her flawless execution of the techniques he had taught her—head low, butt low, pull yourself through like you’re doing chin-ups in the dirt.

  She didn’t make a move to stand up after she’d cleared the bushes, so he reached down and picked her defeated body up, and hugged it to him. She didn’t return the hug, but she didn’t pull away either. He just let her stand there, her sad, little limp body pressed against him, until he felt his shirt getting wet. He looked down to see her crying silently.

  “Come here, Mills,” he said, guiding her over to the wall of the house. They both sat down with their backs to it, his arm around her and her head resting on his shoulder.

  “Camille said some boy’s been picking on you.”

  “Yeah,” she said quietly.

  “Who is he? What’s his name?” Mack tried again to get his name, so he could have a face-to-face meeting with the kid.

  “I’m not going to tell you his name,” Millie said.

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s a mean jerk, but I don’t want him dead.”

  Mack smiled. She’d been able to read his mind since she was just a little girl.

  “Well, why don’t you tell me about it? What did he say? Did he touch you?” Mack asked, trying to keep his anger under co
ntrol.

  She nuzzled more closely into him. Mack had heard one of the guys at work talking about how his teenage daughter no longer wanted him to hug her. Mack had been dreading that day with Millie. He hugged her tightly, thankful that day hadn’t come yet.

  “He didn’t touch me,” she said through her sniffles. “He just told me I was ugly.”

  A fire ignited within Mack. The exact same fire he felt right before a gunfight. He wanted to hunt this kid down, and beat the crap out of him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

  “Millie, you’re the most beautiful girl on earth. You know that.”

  “You think I am, but that’s just because you’re my dad,” she said. “All the other girls are wearing makeup, but Camille says I’m too young for that.”

  Mack was stunned that he finally agreed with Camille on something.

  “Millie, if I showed you two presents—one with colorful wrapping paper and a big, flashy bow and one in a plain box—and then I told you the one with all the wrapping had nothing inside, but the one in the plain box was full of amazing presents, which one would you choose?”

  “So, you’re telling me I’m the plain box without any wrapping?”

  Mack smiled. He knew she had always been too quick for her own good.

  “I’m telling you you’re the box full of amazing presents. The box that took the time to fill up with all the good things before it got all wrapped up. When you’re older, you can wrap yourself up in makeup, and whatever else you want, and then everyone is going to be jealous that the box with the most amazing presents inside is also wrapped the most beautifully.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “But for now, I’m plain like the box.”

  “Millie, there is nothing plain about you. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, inside and out. And if that boy doesn’t see it, he definitely doesn’t even deserve to look at you,” Mack said, still trying to figure out a way to learn the boy’s identity.

  She laid her head back down on him and sighed. “I want to start wrapping my box now, though.”

  “There’s plenty of time for all that, Mills. Just enjoy still being a kid. Keep filling up your box. That other stuff will come with time.”

  Mack took a deep breath, suddenly knowing she had already passed through the kid phase and was quickly, too quickly, approaching the young woman phase—full of its heartbreak that he couldn’t shield her from. He wanted to stop it like an approaching enemy force, just point his rifle at it, and start firing. If only it were that easy, he thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Millie

  Virginia Beach, Virginia

  2019

  It’s late in the afternoon, and I haven’t seen Mason all day. I’ve kept myself locked down in Raine’s office, trying desperately to find Haroun Hadzic’s house. I’m just about to close my computer and head back to the hotel when Mason walks in.

  “So, any new leads on Hadzic’s father?”

  I’m a little thrown just by the sight of him after being up all night thinking about floating on his chest in the ocean. He just stares at me, all business, like nothing happened yesterday.

  “Umm. M-m-maybe,” I stutter. “I’ve been going over the area Petrovic told me about for days, but I haven’t seen anything that looks like what he described. So, Culver put me in touch with an Air Force captain in Afghanistan. He’s had his guys do some runs over the area to see if they can see anything that I’m missing on the satellite. I’m just waiting for him to get back to me today.”

  “What happens if he doesn’t find anything?”

  “Well, I’ll keep looking, but from D.C. There’s not much reason for me to be down here if I don’t have anything for you guys to do.”

  All of a sudden he looks pissed, like I’ve said something wrong.

  “So, just back to the D.C. life?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I guess. That’s where I live.”

  “Back to the boyfriend?”

  The question takes me by surprise. “Yeah, I mean we haven’t talked in a few weeks, since I’ve been down here, but, yeah, we’re still dating.”

  “You haven’t talked to him at all since you’ve been down here? You haven’t missed him? That doesn’t seem like much of a relationship.” His voice is demanding answers that my brain just can’t give him right now.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t miss him.” I don’t, but technically I didn’t say that.

  “Do you?” He’s staring right at me, challenging me to tell him the truth. He knows I have feelings for him, too. I just shrug and try to concentrate on my computer.

  “I don’t know, Millie. It seems like you deserve something a little more passionate than that.”

  “Why are we even talking about this? It’s not really any of your business. No offense, but it’s not.”

  He stands up suddenly. “You’re right. It’s not. Let me know what the Air Force finds.”

  And just like that, he walks out of the office, leaving me confused and more than a little disappointed.

  I know he’s right about Drew and me. Despite Drew’s many calls and texts, I haven’t talked to him since I left for Virginia Beach. I always call him at least every couple days when I travel, but now, it’s been almost two weeks. There are many reasons for that, but it’s at least partially because of the feelings I’m starting to have for Mason. That’s another problem I’m going to have to take care of, but one step at a time. I know the first thing I have to do is break up with Drew.

  When I get back to my hotel room, I down a couple glasses of wine, and then call Drew. He picks the call up on the first ring.

  “Oh my god, she’s alive.”

  “Hey. Sorry, it’s been a crazy few weeks.”

  “Are you okay? I was really worried about you.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say. “Hey, Drew, we need to talk. I don’t want to do this over the phone, but you deserve an answer.”

  “An answer to what?” Drew asks slowly.

  “An answer to why I haven’t been calling you.”

  “I just figured you were busy,” he says. “Is there more to it than that?”

  “Yeah, Drew. There is. I’m sorry to do this over the phone.”

  “Wait, are you breaking up with me?”

  I close my eyes, and dive in. “I think it’s best if we do break up. I’m sorry. I love you, but it’s just not working out for me.”

  There’s silence on the other end of the phone, but I still hear him breathing. I’ll just let him have a moment.

  “Millie, God, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. We’ve been dating for two years, and you’re just going to call me and break up with me? Where are you? I’ll come there, but we can’t have this conversation on the phone. Is there somebody else?”

  “There’s not anyone else,” I say, lying slightly. “It’s just my job. It’s only going to get busier, and it’s not fair to you.”

  “Don’t use that excuse,” Drew says with anger creeping into his voice. “I’ve never complained once about your travel schedule. If you want to break up with me, tell me why you want out of the relationship, not why you think I do.”

  “I don’t know, Drew, it’s just not a priority for me, and after two years, I think it should be.”

  “It’s not a priority for you? Damn, Millie, you just said you love me, but I’m not even a priority. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say. “But, you deserve someone who will make you a priority. You’re an amazing guy.”

  “I swear to God if you say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ I’m going to lose it,” Drew shouts, making me jump. I try to keep my tone steady.

  “I’m sorry, Drew. I really am, but I’m not going to change my mind.”

  There’s more silence on the other end of
the phone. He finally says, “When are you back in town?”

  “I’m not sure, but probably in the next few days. I’ll come by and get my stuff whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “Let’s at least have dinner and talk about it a little more. You owe me that. Will you call me when you get back here?”

  I agree to call him for dinner, and we hang up. He sounds like he’s in agony when he says goodbye. I feel guilty that I’m not. The only thing on my mind right now is Mason. It pisses me off so badly, but my mind won’t turn him off. I know he’ll be at the bar, and that’s where I find my body headed.

  I walk in and look around a bit to see if he’s there. I don’t see him by the pool tables which is usually where he hangs out, so I decide to just have a drink, and head back to the hotel. I take the same stool I had the first night I came here. After a few minutes, Pete walks over and hands me what looks like a martini.

  “I googled how to make a dirty martini,” Pete says, smiling proudly.

  “What? That’s amazing. Thank you.” I notice a little redness coming to his cheeks before he quickly turns and walks away.

  I take a sip. Way too much olive brine. This is one salty drink. But, Pete made it for me, so I’m drinking all of it. While I’m in deep thought about my drink, two muscular arms snake around me, their hands landing on the bar on either side of me, penning me in. I figure it’s Mason or one of the team, so I don’t react. But then the body moves closer to me and says, “I’ll buy your next round.”

  I don’t recognize that voice. I pull back to look at an unfamiliar face.

  “What the fuck? Get off of me,” I say, trying to push myself out of his arms.

  “Is that any way to say thank you?” the random guy says as he pulls me into a tight squeeze.