What was with this guy?
His eyes were filled with a familiar sense of emotion, a type of hurt mixed with anger I’d seen in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror. His fingers drifted over his truck, almost like he was comforting it during its time of need.
The truck must’ve meant something to him, and it made me feel even more like crap for hitting it.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Even if he could hear me, he didn’t acknowledge that he could.
“I’ll pay for it. Whatever it takes. If you want me to call someone, I know a guy downtown who can come and—”
“No thanks. It’s fine,” the man said.
He raised up from his truck, and I got to take in just how tall he was. He was massive. And stacked. Strong underneath his clothing and stern behind his gaze. I felt like I was shrinking in front of him, reduced to nothing but the size of an ant as he gazed down at me.
He was an incredibly handsome guy with thick shoulders and a well-trimmed beard. His dark hair was cut casually, and his eyes were a deep, probing blue. He had an air of confidence about him that I found both intriguing and also a little intimidating.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “My daughter was kicking the back of my seat and I thought I checked properly before I pulled out.”
“Came out quick,” he said.
“I’m … sorry.”
“You said that already.”
“Because I am,” I said.
He nodded, casting his gaze off into the distance before his eyes came down to my car.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I can fix it.”
“Are you a mechanic?” I asked.
“No. Your car’s worse off anyway. You’ll need your own money to fix it.”
My eyes fell to the damage done to my car. The taillight was busted, and the fender was bent. Very bent. Almost popping away from the body of the car kind of bent. Just what I needed on top of everything else.
“Looks like it,” I said.
“Your girl. Is she okay?”
I looked up at him before my eyes fell to Lily. She was turned around in her car seat, her eyes looking at the massive man I was talking to. Her eyes darted to me, and she grinned, sat down in her seat, and started wiggling around.
“Looks like it,” I said.
“Good. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Shouldn’t we exchange information or something?” I asked.
“Do you want to be held at fault for the accident with your insurance company?” he asked.
He had a point.
“Have a good day,” I said. “And I’m really sorry about your truck.”
“Tell your daughter to keep her feet off your seat. You could kill someone with your driving.”
I watched the man drive away in his truck. Gruff wasn’t the right word to describe him. More like brutish asshole. I shook my head, got back into the car, and buckled myself in. I looked back at Lily who had an apologetic look on her face.
“Let’s go get some ice-cream.”
CHAPTER 4
GRAHAM
What a fucking mess.
I pulled my truck into my garage and got to work. That accident made me late for my interview at the mechanic’s shop downtown. I’d been cutting through the school parking lot to avoid the pick-up traffic at the front door. Then her car came careening out of nowhere, like some bat out of hell.
I was almost surprised to see that it was my neighbor, but I wasn’t about to bring it up, and risk small talk.
I fucking hated small talk.
I shouldn’t have been such an ass hole, but it was better than trying to make friends.
Making friends was dangerous. People in my life got hurt when they associated themselves with me. Being the quiet asshole of the town and keeping my head down was a better bet than making friends and getting them killed like I had my family.
If I couldn’t protect my own family, then there was no way I could take care of anyone else.
But, I felt bad for how I reacted. I was harsh with her. Maybe a bit too hard.
She was clearly shaken, but I had already been late for my interview. Talking to her would’ve made me even later, and if someone was watching me, the last thing they needed to think was that I was making nice with someone.
The CIA was still looking for me, and the people who had taken my family were still out there.
The CIA didn’t enjoy it when their top-secret operatives dropped off the face of the planet. They didn’t like it when they couldn't control the future lives of people like me, people who held secrets that could overturn powerful people in office.
There were things I knew about this country and its darkest secrets that the Agency would stop at nothing to keep quiet.
They didn’t simply allow people to quit without repercussions, without the proper debriefing and mind-wiping tactics. They didn’t allow people to walk away like I had, disappearing without a trace and staying on the run. I was their best special agent, the one they went to when operations were going south.
I had been good at everything.
Combat. Psychological warfare.
Weapons and bomb-making.
I could fuse and defuse with the best of them before fighting my way out with my bare hands. I could take on ten men at once and leave them all unconscious without breaking a sweat.
Men like me didn’t walk away without consequences.
But I had.
I wasn’t going to sell out my country, but I was a man who could no longer be trusted. In their eyes, I was as good as AWOL despite the fact that I’d quit. Coupling that with the criminal group whose operation I hadn’t wrapped up yet meant association with me was deadly.
No matter what form it came in.
I ran my hand over the dent in my truck again and sighed. I’d worked on this truck with Kason all the time, taught him all the parts of a car and how they worked and came apart. This was our personal project, our restoration, and I hadn’t touched it since he died.
My cell phone woke me from my trance, and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was the mechanic shop calling, informing me that I’d gotten the job. I knew I should’ve been happy, but I wasn’t. They paid under the table, which meant no official paperwork, but it also meant having to interact with people. At least, my interactions would be limited to co-workers and I’d never have to speak to a customer.
My mind rushed to my neighbor and our encounter yesterday, and I remembered how damaged her car was. All I had to do was pop out a dent and smooth over the small scratches, but hers was a completely different job. And with her having to drive a child around in that thing, it wasn't nearly the safest option for them.
I wondered if she’d let me fix it, at least get it back to the condition it was in before she’d ran into me.
It wasn’t my damn problem.
But she had a daughter.
The last thing I needed was more kids dying because of me.
I got to work on the dent in the truck before I heard footsteps. I looked up from underneath the hood of the car and saw the mailman walking away. I furrowed my brow and walked out of the garage, wondering why the hell he had walked all the way up to my porch.
There was a package on my doorstep, and I froze.
I was long and rectangular, and it could’ve been anything. A bomb. Tear gas. A box rigged to blow something in my face once I opened it. I mindlessly reached for the gun on my hip as I moved toward the package slowly and steadily, in case something inside could be triggered by motion.
But when my eyes landed on the delivery sticker, I groaned with frustration.
It was a package meant for my damn neighbor.
Picking it up, I hauled it across the lawn. I walked up the porch, knocked on the door, and set the package down. I turned to walk away but the door flung open, and I bit back a groan.
Shit.
“Hello?”
I turned around at the soft voice of my neighbor and I tried to bury my shock.