A smarter man might’ve left, but as my brothers are often fond of mentioning, when I find something which interests me, I never let go. Over several pitchers of beer one night, I tried to explain.Remember the time we rolled in poison ivy? How fucking itchy the shit was? You guys had to tie mittens onto my hands, and you handcuffed me to the kitchen table.
Shaking my head at the memory, I track her ghostly form through the fog.
“Dean? Is that you?” A young whisper sounds from behind a group of fir trees nestled between the dunes.
Stepping toward the teen’s voice, I make sure we’re alone before answering. “It’s me. Are you safe? Do you require protection from your sister?”
She snickers. “Sky’s not my sister, she’s my bodyguard.”
Whoa, I can’t believe I bought the older one’s bullshit. My reality shifts, my head spins, and I almost lose my balance.
“Should I call the police?” Reasons a teen might need fulltime security flip through my poor brain. Witness protection? Famous film star? Billionaire’s kid?
“No cops. Absolutely not. But would you mind taking out your gun?” Not many would notice my shoulder holster under an oversized jacket. Intrigued, I pop a magazine into my Glock and safety off, aim the barrel at the ground.
“What for?”
“I saw some dude lurking around. I think he’s gone, but I would feel better knowing we can fight back.” Charlie stands, brushes the sand off her jeans, then cups her hands to her mouth. “Sky, I’m over here with the goat.”
I open my mouth to object to her insult and she starts laughing her ass off. “Chill. It means greatest of all time. You really need to get out more.”
Out of the mouth of babes…
Chapter 2
Sky Young AKA Totally Fucked
Thank God. Charlie’s alive.
When the kettledrum in my ear stops, I loosen the grip on my weapon. Her smart-ass reference to Mr. Buttinsky says she’s not in any immediate danger but who knows what secrets the fog holds.
As waves crash nearby and the wind howls, I grab my phone. Praying no one’s nearby, I call my FBI handler, but again, my call goes straight to voice mail.
“You promised this would never happen. Where the fuck are you?” It’s almost impossible to shout at someone while whispering, but I congratulate myself for trying.
Great.I pull out the other cell, the one Tommy gave me and re-re-check it for messages. The last text had two e-tickets to this damn tour and nothing else since.
Why would the arms broker ask his daughter to venture out of the safe house and fail to show? If the damn Fed would pick up, perhaps I’d have a clue.
What a cluster-fuck.With no other choice, I wing it.
My pistol forward, I inch toward Charlie’s giggles, and stop behind two ghostly dark forms in the mist.
A twig snaps under my foot, the two turn their heads, and I point my weapon at the broad-shouldered, undies-melting, nosey Parker. “What part of go away did you not understand?”
He shoots me a what-the-fuck face. “I found her and you’re welcome?”
His Glock now pointed toward the sand, the wanna-be hero smirks and has the audacity to wink his gorgeous brown eyes at my blushing client who winks back.
“Don’t ever hide from me again.” My voice cracks and as unwanted tears fall, I wipe them away. Dammit, she’s the little sister I always wanted and because of my incompetence, could’ve been killed, or worse. I won’t let it happen again.
Charlie cups my cheek and stares until I meet her gaze. “You were the one who said to follow my gut. When I heard someone, I hid.”
At her matter-of-factness, I slap a palm to my forehead. God, she’s so damn literal, I want to scream but instead, take a deep breath.
“You did well.” Later, I’ll explain how she put us both at risk. Right now, I need to get rid of the Sherlock Holmes wannabe. Maybe he’ll respond better to a polite but firm request.
“Thank you so much for your help. We’re fine now. You can go.” Apparently, I need acting classes or perhaps the gun in my hand diminishes my attempt at civility.
