Colt Knox
From my seat beside the stonework fireplace I watch, mesmerised as Mikki and Juliette chatter back and forth over at the dining table set at the far end of the living room.. Juliette having finally convinced Mikki to eat something, which eases my concern for her considerably..
The two of them have so much in common both widowed so young in their lives.. Both having lost a sibling..
I also think it helps that Juliette genuinely has no prejudice, since she has no idea who Mikki really is..
The woman lives under a figurative rock.. No social life.. No interest in anything outside of work and family..
Be damned if I don't worry about her, every fucking day..
And now there is two of them..
It really shouldn't be a surprise to me that they have become thicker than thieves since we arrived..
But it concerns me..
What happens to their bond when I inevitably fuck up?..
And I will fuck it up..
That is my only certainty in all of this..
After all.. That is what I do..
The longer this facade of friendship I have created continues the more impossible it seems that Mikki doesn't get hurt..
If I were better at my job, I'd probably have an easier time of lying to her.. I'd be able to separate the asset from the person and focus on my mission directive..
But I can't.. Because I have never belonged where I have ended up..
I didn't find what I sought when I enlisted.. Instead I was faced with more suffering.. More loss..
I watched my brothers in arms die.. I witnessed a country ablaze with war..I did things no kid should be asked.. And that is all war really is.. Just kids slaughtering kids..
Young men and women laying down their lives for reasons they don't even understand..
After that, I returned home to the rodeo circuit to discover the saddle just didn't fit anymore.. Those eight seconds didn't give me that same sweet rush of freedom they once had, it was obvious from the second I hit the pens that wasn't where I should be either..
Because I don't give a shit about the competition, what's the point when the best there ever was is gone? There's nothing left motivating me to ride.. I don't have the drive to break my back over a sport that'd sooner send me to an early grave than reward me with any greatness..
I'll be damned if it got any better elsewhere, because I sure as shit didn't get what I needed when I got the recruitment call from Hunter Paxton, to contract to the CIA..
That spiderweb of deception that would only test my moral limits and forces me to question everything I know about the man that I am.. Or rather, the man that I was..
My time there changed me, and it wasn't for the better..
No.. All I learned in Langley was how to lie and trust nobody, because the inside of the machine is as corrupted and broken as the criminals it was created to protect us all from..
We live in fear of the boogeyman in the night or the monsters under our beds, when we should be living in terror of the men in black suits..
Now, after a couple years of working for Specter I find myself with the same feelings of empty pointlessness.. Like a feral fucking horse tied to a teather, lunging in circles, straining to break free.. Around and around.. Trapped.. Lashed to the fence post..
Sure, over the course of my career I'd been proficient.. I can walk the walk, shoot the shit and perform along with the best of them..
But the difference between a guy like me and a guy like Jake Harrison is this, his achievements bring him a sense of success.. Mine just bring doubts..
Could I have done more?
Could I have been better?
What did I miss?
Where do I go from here?
How do I live with myself?
After every mission, these questions eat at me from the inside out..
And Mikki.. Well, she makes me doubt everything about every action I've taken since the day we met.. Every lie that leaves my mouth is another question.. Every omission, another uncertain outcome..
I could kill Harris.. Fucking Harris.
The bastard has been dodging my calls for days, avoiding passing on any information that might be of any actual fucking use to me.. And I'm getting real sick of his shit..
I might owe the guy, but that obligation doesn't come without limitations..
I can't keep Mikki here forever.. And the longer he leaves me fumbling in the dark.. The harder it's going to be to keep her here at all..
I lean back against the cool leather of the lounge, pretending to be lost in the distraction of my cell-phone, when in reality, all I'm thinking about is Mikki..
Sexy, sweet, sugary, Mikki..
Except she isn't mine to be thinking about at all.. I just want her to be.. I want her real bad..
I have fantasised about her every-night since returning to Riverland Ranch.. Dreamt about the scent of her soft skin and the sensation of my hands on her body.. Hell, I won't lie.. I've jerked off several times to the thought of her pretty mouth sucking hungrily on my cock..
Fuck..
Her plush ruby lips shouldn't be made to fit so perfectly against my own..
Those gold-flecked apple-green eyes aren't mine to become lost in..
My fingers don't deserve to tangle through her silky chocolate curls, or to trail the softly sun-kissed curves of her seductive figure..
That sugar-cookie perfume of hers so sweet it should be a goddamn sin to breathe it..
My Mikki..
The phone buzzes in my hand, reminding me of the task.. I flick a thumb acorss the screen to unlock it, pulling up Jake's latest message..
Short and succinct, it reads; 'Orion confirmed MIA'
I already know Oliver Reid has been missing for the past six days, but the official confirmation now coming from Harrison's DEA contact is validation to one of my many theories..
Mainly, that he could easily be dirty, maybe Angelo turned him.. Maybe he had something to do with those nasty pills Mikki had been given..
I don't want to believe that Orion is corrupt.. But he wouldn't be the first Fed to lose his way..
Or maybe the guy is already dead..
Seconds later, another notification rolls in; 'Request to illuminate asset denied. Godfather on the warpath. Stay dark.'
My back teeth grind together in irritation as I tap out a fast response;
'Necessary requirement. Request again permission to illuminate asset.'
I honestly believe Harris set me up with the wrong approach.. If he'd only permit me to breach confidentiality and tell Mikki the truth, I know she'd have been cooperative.. It may have taken a little convincing, but if she'd been willing to talk to the DEA, it seems likely she would've done the same for Specter.. For me..
I mean.. Orion gave her his identity.. He told her the truth.. At least about his name and who he works for..
So why the fuck did my brief specifically determine that I'd have to lie in order to get close to her?..
And why did Jake lie to me about Oliver's involvement?
None of it makes sense to me, and all of it brings those familiar feelings of suspicion..
I wait for his response, knowing the reply I will receive, and seething before it even arrives; 'Request denied.'
I swallow a growl of irritation and my following harshly typed response is less than one of gracious acceptance;
'Fuck you.'
With a bitter scoff I rise to my feet so abruptly that both of the women turn sharply in surprise..
"Honey-bear, what's the matter with ya?" Juliette aches a brow in curiosity, while Mikki watches me with those gilded green gems..
"Ah nothin'.. Fire needs stockin'.. I'll do it.." Without another word I shuffle out of the living room, making it out onto the porch before my phone begins to buzz..
Thinking my disrespect must have struck a nerve with the bossman, I bring the receiver to my ear, ready to eat his attitude.. "Don't fuckin' start, Harris--"
Instead, the voice of Delta Force's Commanding officer, Hunter Paxton, responds, casual and calm.. "Guess again, pony-boy.."
"Paxton?.. My bad, thought you were the dog from down-under.." Some of the tension leaves my shoulders as I pace across the front yard towards the woodshed..
Paxton hums down the line.. "Yeahh.. About that.. What the fuck is going on up there? Why did I have a pissed-off Jake Harrison in my office the afternoon, talking some shit about breached contracts and terminations?"
A bitter chortle escapes me.. "Don't ya know ? I'm the expendable one.. Always have been, brother.."
"That's bullshit Knox--" He starts with a coaxing tone that is all too familiar to me.. Its the same one that he used convinced me to join him in Langley.. The same condescending-'what else are you gunna do with your wasted life'-bullshit he used to convince me to take the job at Specter..
I'm fucking done..
I'm done running third post.. I'm sick of chasing the chaos in search of the calm..
"Yeah yeah, I know the drill, I took the contract Axe, so.. I'll get the job done.. But after that.. I dunno if I'm coming back--"
As I lean down to take the axe handle and wiggle it from the block, her mousey voice spooks me stupid.. "What job, Colt?"
Guilt floods through my veins, icy cold and I quickly disconnect the call, shoving the cell in my pocket as I spin around to see her standing there beside the woodpile with her hands on her hips, her little brown boots buried in the dewy grass..
"Sugar! Ya come to learn how to chop wood?" I hoist the axe over my shoulder and smirk at her like a smart-ass, hoping for enough of a diversion to put her off her line of questioning..
Damn.. I could kick myself for my mouth..
Mikki squints at me suspiciously for a long moment, her button nose scrunched up as if she is considering calling me out on my bullshit.. Her head tips to one side curiously before she sighs softly in concession.. "Yeah.. Yeah sure, I wanna learn.. Show me.."