God as my witness, justice would be served for my family.
I needed to get as far away from the Agency and my former life as possible. I’d lived in two remote towns before settling into Bend, Oregon.
I made it my mission to fit in somewhere just enough to be left the fuck alone.
So far so good.
***
GRAHAM
I headed to my truck as a sound caught my ear. I looked over into my neighbor’s yard and saw a little girl running around on the grass. Her dark red hair was billowing around her shoulders, bouncing in small curls as she flapped her arms around. She kept yelling to her mother that she was a bird trying to take off and fly around the city so she could see the world below. I saw a woman step out of her house, tired and worn down as she heaved a heavy sigh.
Beautiful.
I cursed myself at the thought.
I unlocked my truck as I watched her pile her daughter into the rust bucket vehicle she owned. By the looks of it, it was a complete piece of junk. Putting a child in that kind of car was not a good idea.
I guess desperate times called for desperate measures.
It would never hold up in an accident. I watched her hastily get into her car as it bounced on its chassis, rocking with every movement like the unstable piece of shit it was.
I slipped into my truck and closed my eyes. Daniel flew into town, wanting to meet with me, probably to talk my ear off about blending in and shit. My mind flew back to that night I’d lost everything. I could hear the droning of the monitors in the ICU as a shiver ricocheted down my spine.
I gripped the steering wheel and clenched my teeth. It was taking me longer and longer to pull myself from those visions. I cranked up my truck and lurched forward, making my way to a diner on the other side of town. Bend, Oregon, looked like a nice enough place to settle down in after the few catastrophes I’d gotten into over the past year and a half. I’d settle in places and people would get curious, ask too many questions and try to talk me in circles. People from small towns could do their research like the best of them, which was why I figured Bend would be the perfect way to go.
Small enough to be unnoticeable but large enough to hide in.
“Hey there, Graham.”
I embraced Daniel and patted his back before we sat down in a booth.
“Figured for a while there you weren’t coming,” Daniel said.
“When the hell have I ever not met with you?” I asked.
“You ditched me once in Kettle. Once in Fredericksburg. Another time in—”
“I get your point. Sorry. I’ll try not to fuck up Bend this time.”
“You gotta settle somewhere, Graham. Every time you kick up a storm and move, it leaves a bigger paper trail,” he said.
“I’m working on it.”
“You’re not keeping a very low profile.”
“I’m keeping an incredibly low one. Keeping myself afloat on bullshit jobs that don’t require official paperwork, not getting involved in business that isn’t mine. Not my fault people are curious about some asshole walking around town.”
“Have you tried not being an asshole?” he asked with a grin.
I looked at him, straight-faced for a moment.
“Graham, come on. Loosen up a bit. Bend might be the place you’re looking for,” he said.
“No place is the place I’m looking for anymore,” I said.
“Have you been back?”
“No,” I said. “I have a job to finish.”
“You have a life to assimilate. But that doesn’t mean you can’t go visit their graves.”
“They’re buried in DC, Turner. The fuck do you expect me to do?”
“What you always did with the CIA. Go in undercover and give yourself some closure.”
“You don’t think that’s what I’m doing? Getting closure?” I asked.
“Not the way you should,” he said.
“Sorry you don’t like my plans.”
“If you’re serious about Bend, you need to remember your CIA training. It’s imperative that you blend in. And right now, you’re doing a shit job of it. People are already staring at us.”
“Because I’m new.”
“No. Probably because you pissed someone off,” he said.
“Not my fault people wanna talk and I don’t.”
“That’s the thing. You have to talk. If they want you to talk, then talk. If you don’t wanna talk, then get yourself an off-grid house and live alone.”
“You know I can’t do that until the job’s finished.”
“I hear you loud and clear. But you’ll be moving in another month if you don’t clean your act up,” he said.
“What the hell do you expect me to do?” I asked.
“Get a part-time job. Trim up that beard. You look homeless.”
“I am homeless.”
“You’re renting a house.
“Not what I meant,” I said flatly.
“Graham, I know you’re still hurting.”
“You have no fucking idea what I am right now.”
“Hey, I’m not here to harass you. But if you want this to work, you have to suck it the fuck up. You have to blend in. Get a job. Interact with people. Give them a reason not to think you’re a piece of shit they should be digging into,” he said.
I clenched my jaw as I looked around the diner, taking in the way people were darting their gazes back to their plates. I hated it, but I knew Daniel was right. I’d be forced out of this small town in Oregon before I could plant roots again if I gave people a reason to talk. But there wasn't much business around here that didn’t require interaction with people.
Except for mechanic work.
But I wasn’t sure if I could stomach that.
It made me think of Kason every time I worked on my truck.
“They got a mechanic shop around here?” Daniel asked.
“I hate that you can do that,” I said, cringing at how well my friend knew me.
“It’s the only other skill you’ve got. Unless you wanna open up a martial arts studio or something.”
“Or a gym.”
Daniel grinned at me, and I shook my head. I didn’t smile nowadays. I couldn’t. But Daniel got me close sometimes. I stared out the window as our waitress approached us and gave her my order so I could get the hell out of there.
“How’s the new place?” he asked.
“We’re really gonna do this?” I asked.
“Yep. How’s the new house?”
“Decent enough. The owners have already informed me they would be willing to do a ‘rent to own’ situation,” I said.
“See? Something to work toward.”
“I’m not planting roots here.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Why should I?” I countered.
“Because you supposedly have a job to do. How can you do that job if you don’t have a home base to do it at?”
“Why did you come to town again?”
“To check up on you, Graham. You have a nasty habit of falling off the face of the planet. I see you still have that truck.”
“Had the tags changed and replaced. Not a problem,” I said. “And if you can track me, so can they.”
“Hardly. I haven’t worked for the CIA for three months now.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. Got tired of their shit too. Too many missions failing for no reason and with no one giving any straight answers,” he said.
“Well, damn.”
“Went through their whole ‘we gotta debrief you so you don’t say shit’ thing and then got the hell outta dodge.”
“Where you set up now?” I asked.
“I’m working on it. DC isn’t my kind of area for long-term shit, but it’s got some nice wooded areas around it.”
“Forever the mountain man.”
“Says the man with a beard four inches long.”
“Don’t like it, don’t look at it,” I said.
“Kind of hard not to. I mean, it’s impressive.”
Our food came, and we shot the shit, updating each other on our lives. I didn’t have much to talk about, and Daniel was a motor-mouth. That’s how I preferred it.
“Sounds like you got a mission of your own,” I said when he finished telling all the reasons he’d stopped trusting the Agency.
“I’m working on it,” Daniel said. “But not like you are.”
“Still got your old contacts?”
“Always,” he said.
“When I get myself … immersed, think you could do me a few favors?”
I watched a mischievous grin spread across Daniel’s cheek as he picked up a french fry.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER 3
CINDY