No Regrets

by B. B. Donnelly

  “Well, there was a problem. It must have happened when he slapped you. We lost contact soon after I patched Jackson through to you.” Stan explains with a slight twitch of his eyes. I know my father can’t be very happy with him, even if it wasn’t his fault.

  “I should have put Charlie on this mission. I just didn’t realize how bad this was going to get.” My father mutters and Stan ducks his head down. Who’s Charlie?

  “I’m sorry, sir. Since the other mission is over, Charlie is looking over the earpieces now to see what happened.” Stan says, never looking up. Charlie must be the other tech guy.

  Well, crap, good to know that I had no backup, except for Jackson. Thank god, nothing happened to him! It’s probably a good thing I didn’t know I was on my own at that point. I did wonder why it was so quiet. I just thought they didn’t want to chance Nicholas hearing them. I take a deep breath and continue with the story all the way up to Jackson shoving me into the backseat. I pause and gesture for Jackson to pick it up from there. I watch Jackson standing in front of the table explaining what happened tonight, from his perspective. He glosses over the kiss as well. I just stare at him and love how professional he sounds. I hope I sounded as professional. My heart lifts when I see the pride shine from my father’s eyes when Jackson explains how I took down the two men.

  After the torturous debriefing, the room files out. My uncle gives me a pat on the shoulder as he walks past. He stops in the doorway.

  “I will meet you back at the house.” He says to my father. My father gives a tense nod of acknowledgment and his eyes follow my uncle as he leaves. Hmmmm, what’s going on there? Before I can ponder it, Lana comes up and gives me a hug. I give her an awkward pat as she squeezes me.

  “Good job, Sparks, I’m so proud of you.” She says, pulling back and giving me a sickening sweet smile. I wonder if she thinks she will be my stepmother or something. I give a strained smile back in return. I know it doesn’t reach my eyes.

  “Thanks.” I reply dismissing her, turning away from her and facing Mustang. He gives me a hug.

  “Thanks for rescuing us with your badass driving skills.” I say, making him laugh.

  “Good job, Sparks. Not bad for a girl.” He teases and I slap him on the shoulder. He leaves, laughing. Stan leaves, not talking to anyone. He isn’t being rude, that is just how he is. My father and Jackson are the only ones left.

  “Jackson, can you give me a minute with my daughter?” Jackson nods and heads to the door, not even glancing at me. What the hell? My eyes follow him until he disappears out the door.

  “Carter.” My father gains my attention. “First, I’m extremely proud of you. As a father, I hate that I put you in a position like that, but as your boss, I’m very pleased with the report. You handled yourself like a good agent and I know you can handle what I’m about to give you.” I look at him curiously. He walks over to the table and reaches down. He brings up a black leather briefcase. There is a small touch identification pad on it. My father places his thumb on the pad. It blinks green and then he types in a code when a small number pad shows up.

  “Come here.” He says. I walk over to him and he takes my hand. He places my thumb on the pad. It blinks a couple of times and then turns green.

  “This briefcase contains some very important documents. It now recognizes your fingerprint as well as mine. The code is your birthday.” He explains. He is staring me down with his stern look. This is when I know that this is some serious shit.

  “I don’t understand.” I say, unsure. He hands me the briefcase. I take it hesitantly.

  “You will.” He says with a sad voice. I look at him questioningly.

  “When the time is right…. I want you to open it. Inside you will find many secrets that your uncle, the government, and even Jackson do not know about. I’m giving this to you to keep safe.” I start to say something, but he puts a hand up, stopping me.

  “No questions. I’m relying on you. And before you ask, you will know when the time is right.” He says in a cryptic way. Okay. I respect his wishes even though my curiosity is killing me. With that, he pats me on the shoulder and steers me towards the door. We find Jackson in the training room, chatting with some other agents. When they see my father, they stand at attention.

  “Cowboy, are you ready?” My father asks or pretty much just tells him he is ready because he is already turning towards the exit. Jackson gives the men a wave and follows. I notice my friend, Julia standing with Max. She gives me a wink and puts her fingers to her head like a phone and mouths call me. I smile and nod, then follow the two important men in my life out.

  My father and Jackson are in a deep conversation ahead of me. I feel a little left out, but like a good little girl, I just let them take the lead. We get in my father’s brand-new Mercedes Benz. The ride is filled with male bonding over some game that was on last night. Boring. I sit in the backseat, staring out the window. I’m still trying not to think about everything, but I can’t help it. I need to get stronger, mentally and physically. What would I have done if Jackson hadn’t rescued me? I can’t rely on other agents when I’m out in the field. Yes, we have teams, but things could go wrong. I go over the scenario, excluding Jackson, and it doesn’t look good for me. I can’t get caught off guard again. Nicholas should never have been able to get handcuffs on me. I mean, let’s face it, there was no expecting that, but still I could have distracted him from restraining me, somehow. I just keep going over it and over it, torturing myself.

  I’m so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize we were pulling up to my house. I guess it is more of a mansion. I love my house. It is a beautiful sprawl with lovely gardens and built with white walls, surrounded with balconies and columns. It has a southern charm in a northeastern region. I guess that feeling comes from being over a hundred years old. It belongs to my mother and had been in her family since her great, great, whatever grandfather built it with his money. My mother is considered old money in society. My father married her for a cover and her high society position. Her family oversees many charities and has held many offices in the federal government. Unfortunately, my mother was desperately in love with my father and I guess never realized that the feelings were not returned. Hence, the many affairs that my father has. Don’t get me wrong, my father treats my mother very well, but he breaks her heart with every woman he gets involved with. I know it seems wrong that a daughter should know the intimate details of her parent’s lives, but unfortunately, I walked in on my father and his mistress, my nanny at the time, doing the nasty on his office desk. I was around ten at the time. My father and I never discussed that moment. As I got older, my father became more open with the women and my mother drowned her sorrows in wine and many shopping trips. But still, my mother is extremely devoted to my father. Personally, I would have kicked his ass to the curb.

  My father parks the car in the front drive. I exit the car and make my way to the opened front door. My mother’s silhouette is distinct against the bright lights streaming from the arched doorway.

  “Brenton, is everything okay?” My mother asks anxiously. “Kilson said that the mission went well, but Carter might need me.” She walks over and meets me on the top step, placing her hands on my shoulders. She gives me the “mother” look over. Her eyes are searching for injuries. I stare at my beautiful mother. I get my looks from her, except I didn’t get her height, but at least I got my fighting abilities from my father. Elizabeth Drazen is tall at 5’8”, blond, with gorgeous emerald green eyes, and is basically utter perfection. I don’t know how she does it. She never has a stray hair out of place or a smudge on her clothes. Unfortunately, to her despair, I’m usually a complete mess. My fingernails are always chipped from training, I live in workout clothes unless absolutely necessary, and I would rather wrestle with my training buddies’ then gossip with snooty high society girls. Oh, but trust me, I understand the importance of a cover and I can gossip with the best of them. These days, the gossip is mostly about Bro
oklyn and Jackson. God, I hate Brooklyn.

  “Elizabeth, she is fine. Take her upstairs, help her get a bath, and let her talk.” My father says, understanding me more than I thought. My parents share a look and my mother puts an arm around me, steering me away from Jackson and my father.

  “Oh, Jackson, I can’t believe it slipped my mind, but Brooklyn is waiting for you at your place. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” My mother informs him. I almost throw up on my mother’s perfect shoes.

  “Oh, uh, thank you, Mrs. Drazen.” Jackson replies, awkwardly. I don’t look at him and instead lay my head on my mother’s shoulder, still gripping the briefcase that my father entrusted me with. It has been too much already. Let’s just add Brooklyn on top of everything!

  “And Brenton, Kilson is in the study.” She says with a hint of worry. I glance at her and my parents are doing that silent communication thing I always hate. What the hell is going on? Ugh, who gives a crap! I’m tired, my face throbs from the punch I received, my feet hurt from running barefoot and in my mind, I keep seeing Jackson and Brooklyn getting it on in his apartment.

  “Night!” I say, tossing a wave over my mother’s shoulder. I don’t look back, but I hear my father saying goodnight to Jackson. Jackson lives on our property. He lives in a newly renovated apartment that is above the old stables. I can see his lights on from my balcony doors. Sometimes I would sit on my balcony just staring at them, wondering what he was

  doing or if he was looking back at me. I would stay there until I would see them go out. Of course, I grew out of that, I was only fifteen at the time and still believed in happy endings. Oh heck, who am I kidding?

  I still believe in happy endings.

  Chapter Five

  After convincing my mother that I was fine for the millionth time, I finally got some privacy in my bathtub. I had scrubbed myself red and still felt unclean. I feel like things are so surreal, but I’m trying to toughen up. I lay my head back against the tub and stretch my legs out enjoying the jets on my sore body. I must have dozed off at some point because the water is chilly, and my fingers are wrinkled. Dragging my body out of the tub, I wrap myself in an oversized towel and walk into my bedroom. I sigh in relief when I see that my mother is no longer hovering. I love the woman, but damn, I need to be alone right now. I make my way to my dresser and pull out a silk peignoir set. It is one of my favorites. It is a dark purple and it is cut low in the front. I always wished Jackson could see it on me. I slip on the robe over the night gown and brush my hair until it is gleaming and swaying softly down my back. I need to cut it, but I like how it flows past my shoulders, hitting right above the curve of my butt.

  Leaving my room and making my way through the darkened hallways, I find myself in front of the refrigerator. I grab a bowl of grapes and a glass of milk. It is all my stomach can handle at this point. Quietly, I make my way back to my room. I’m rounding the corner when I see the door to my father’s study opening. I don’t know what made me, but I back up around the corner and peek around. My uncle has his hand on the doorknob, getting ready to leave.

  “Kilson, get back here, we are not finished.” My father bellows. My uncle lets go of the door, leaving it partially open and retreats back into the room. I quietly set down my grapes and milk. I slowly creep down the hall. I’m standing right outside the door. My father will be so pissed if he knows I’m here.

  “Just admit it, admit that you are a traitor!” My father accuses my uncle. I stop a shocked gasp from passing my lips.

  “Brenton, seriously? Me, a traitor?” My uncle asks coolly.

  “Yes, you… who else would be sending teams out on missions that are not authorized by the government? Who has that authorization, but me? Only you.” My father shouts, “Why Kilson?” There is a pregnant pause. “Listen, I will take care of it, like always. I will cover for you, just no more.” My father says in despair.

  “So, you will loan me the money?” My uncle asks.

  “No, I will not. You have made a mess out of things. If it was anyone other than you, I would be sending out a team to take you out. You are my brother and even if you have betrayed me, I will somehow clear your name. It would not look good on me if my brother is on trial for treason. You need to leave this organization or better yet, the country that you have betrayed.” My father demands.

  “Brenton, I can’t do that. I owe them money, a lot of money. Those missions are the only way to pay them back unless you give me the money.” My uncle says. I can tell by his tone that he is scared.

  “That is not my problem. You lost all authority in this organization. My teams are not for hire and I will not give you Carter’s inheritance. I will not have my daughter suffer or pay for your misgivings.” Oh my gosh. He wants my money?

  “Brenton, they will kill me. Do you want my death on your hands?” My uncle pleads.

  “That is what I’m preventing! Your death will not be at my hands or of this organization even if it should be. You need to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess. I’m doing what is right. I know it is a hard concept for you to understand, but you know what, you made your bed, you can lie in it. I will not risk my organization or my reputation for your mistakes. I’m tired of fighting your battles for you.” I hear a loud noise and can only assume my father slapped his hand down on his desk.

  “You will regret this. Go on living your perfect life. You have the perfect wife, a beautiful daughter, more wealth than one person deserves, this house, nice cars, the President in your pocket and you even get ass on the side. You have it all. ME? I HAVE NOTHING!” my uncle screams, “and you won’t even lift a finger to help me!”

  “We are done here, get out of this house. I better see that you are out of this country by the end of the week or else I will come for you. That is my offer.” My father says calmly.

  “Offer? That is an ultimatum. But you know what? Fuck you.” I hear my uncle’s footsteps coming towards the door. I take off towards the end of the hall, opposite of the kitchen, barely making it in time to watch my uncle storm out.

  “Fuck.” I hear him say. I peek around and see that he is standing at the end of the hall, staring at the glass of milk that is now flooding the carpet. Shit, shit, shit! He looks up and I flatten myself back around the corner, holding my breath.

  “This way, sir.” A security guard approaches. My father called security on my uncle!

  “Thank you, but I know the way.” My uncle replies politely. I peek around again and watch my uncle leave with the guard close behind him. I take off at a run towards my room. I can’t have my father catching me here, eavesdropping.

  Once inside my room, I lean against my closed lock door. Holy moly! I’m shocked at what I heard. My uncle is a traitor! I wonder who he owes money to. I’m proud of my father for holding on to his values. I have never been close to my uncle, but I would never have thought he would turn on my father. I always knew there was a little jealously on my uncles’ part towards my father. Once upon a time, my mother dated my uncle, but then my father stole her away. I know there was some bitterness over that, but I assumed it was well in the past. My uncle and my father have worked together for years and they seemed close.

  I’m reeling over this turn of events. But I guess I should have seen the signs. My uncle pretty much spelled it out for me. He sees my father as having it all. He got the girl, a family, money, and is head of an organization that works closely with the President. My uncle on the other hand, I think is single, obviously broke, and is his older brother’s bitch. It sounds harsh, but Kilson has always been in my father’s shadow.

  I push off the door and make my way to my secret room. Most girls want clothes, shoes, and other girly things…me, I wanted a secret weapon room. I pull on the shoe rack that hides the secret latch. Clicking the latch, the secret door pops open and there is another smaller room filled with weapons ranging from guns, knives, to my prized possession, my katana. It was a birthday gift from my father for my sixteenth birt
hday. I trained relentlessly to master it. I make my way to the safe that I stored the briefcase in. I pause before pushing in the code. My father said I would know when the time was right. Just because I’m curious doesn’t mean I should open it now. I will ask him for more details tomorrow. I have enough on my mind as it is.

  Instead, I walk toward my katana. It is on display, gleaming on its stand. I take it and slide it out of the sheath. I relinquish in the sound of the whisper of steel. I return to my closet area for more room. I slip out of my robe, allowing more mobility. I swipe the sword side to side then twirling it a couple times, testing the balance and then I get into the motions. I let my body and my emotions fall into the beautiful routine of the sword. I’m taking out my feelings on imaginary foes, slicing, parrying, thrusting, spinning, repeatedly.

  Suddenly I see Nicholas’s face in my mind. I collapse to my knees on the floor of my closet. The sword is lying next to me. I reach up and touch the tears that are on my cheeks.

  “You are so graceful and beautiful with the katana.” I hear from behind me. I grab the sword and half turn on my knees to face the intruder with the point at ready. Jackson puts his hands up in surrender with a smile, which immediately falls when he sees my face. I turn back quickly, wiping my face off, and stand up. I walk into the secret room, placing the sword back in its place of honor. I close the hideaway door, pick up my robe, and return to the bedroom.

  I toss the robe on the floor, secretly thrilled that he gets to see me in my sexy nightgown. I ignore the stirrings in my heart at the sight of such a gorgeous man. Jackson is now leaning against one of my bedposts. He is still in his tuxedo, but his black bow tie is undone, lying loosely around his neck. His jacket is unbuttoned as well as the top two buttons of his white shirt. His tanned skin offsets the white. His hair looks bedroom messy, falling slightly across his forehead. There is a smudge of lipstick on his neck collar.