Page 6

Archer

The night is peaceful, alive with the constant humming of insects. It’s a nice reminder that things are settled. If the bugs grow quiet, I grow concerned.

It’s been several hours since I said goodnight to Mia. I’m close to dozing when every hair on my arms stands straight up. The buzzing has stopped. And I hear footsteps, as muffled as they are against the stones.

Across from me is Midas and Phantom, and when I shoot them a look, I know they’ve observed the same disturbance. I motion to them, then above me where Mia is. They both nod in agreement while I silently maneuver out of my hammock.

I hang back a bit, not wanting whoever it is to know that I’m following them. I’m also eerily quiet. And dressed in dark colors. My right hand rests atop my Glock at my hip. The weight of it calms me.

The breeze carries with it a distinct scent of jasmine laced with lighter notes of citrus. When I catch a glimpse of the figure in front of me, I’d know the gentle curve of her hips anywhere. Mia.

How, in the middle of the night, does she expect us to do our jobs if she sneaks off? Is she sleep walking? Testing our limits? I’ve had the come-to-Jesus talk with many clients before—we all have—and I really hoped that she was different.

Mia has been nothing but cooperative with us, forthcoming, honest, and really easy to be around. She’s also got one of those minds that is constantly churning while at the same time makes you question your own IQ. She’s incredibly smart. And beautiful.

I steel myself to deliver the time-honored speech of We can’t protect you if you wander off when I see her walk on the sand. She’s barefoot and when land gives way to the beach, Mia sinks her feet in. The clouds that were present at dinner have moved off and the half-moon in the night sky is brilliant enough to illuminate her.

The beach is deserted at this late hour but it doesn’t stop me from checking the perimeter. Mia is unaware of not only my presence, but anyone else’s if they’re here.

I watch her as she walks further out, happy when she stops a few yards from the sea. A water rescue isn’t in the cards tonight, but I’d do it if I had to.

Despite the proximity to the equator, the night is rather cool. Mia’s in nothing but an oversized tee with silk shorts and I see her hug herself before taking a seat in the sand. She pulls her knees to her chest then wipes at her cheek.

Shit. I don’t do well when women cry. I’m about to stay put and keep an eye on her from a distance, but before I know it, my feet are carrying me to her.

I keep my voice soft as I approach. “Mia, it’s Dillon.”

She wipes at her face quickly and offers a forced smile. “I-I…did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“No. Legion and Blaze’s snoring did,” I lie. “Did they wake you ?”

She shakes her head in the negative. “No, I just couldn’t really sleep…restless I guess.”

“Mind if I sit?”

Mia pats the sand and gives me the ghost of a smile. As minor as it is, it’s genuine. “I know it’s probably stupid to come here by myself, but I just needed a minute, ya know?”

I think better of telling her that her assumption is correct and settle for, “We are here to protect you, Mia…and as far as needing a minute, I get that. It’s totally understandable, but please, for my sanity, can you tell me next time?” I lean in ever so slightly and nudge her with my shoulder.

“10-4,” she says with a playful salute. She settles back to hugging her knees, staring at the ocean as it flows in and out, governed by the moon overhead.

Tendrils of her hair blow across her forehead and in the dim light I’m still able to see her inky lashes. What I can’t see is the intensity of her blue eyes, but I’d confirmed the cerulean hue to match that of the sea yesterday when we’d arrived.

“How are you feeling?” I ask. “Any side effects?”

“A touch of a headache is all, thankfully,” she responds. “I know there’s still time for a fever to develop, but I’ll take a headache any day.” She turns to me, quirking her lip at the corner. It seems to take an enormous amount of effort. “Thanks for asking.”

For a moment we’re silent, listening to the sounds of the night, the crashing of the waves before us and I’m about to break the stillness when she speaks up. She’s so quiet I barely hear her.

“I’m so na?ve.” I don’t respond but rather, wait for her to explain. “To so many things. This literally is a situation that you read about or see in the movies…it’s not supposed to be real life…” she trails off.

“I wouldn’t have a job if it was fake. But for the sake of others, I wish it was.” I tuck my knees up and place my forearms on them.

“Fair point,” she says, then sighs. “Why couldn’t this just be a run of the mill assignment, ya know? Like, I just needed a bodyguard while attending a gala or something.”

“Well, for one, you wouldn’t have gotten to experience this,” I tell her, motioning around us and the incredible setting.

She picks at her nail. “I’ve chosen not to experience anything. And not for lack of anything but being content in my own little bubble of New York. I’m comfortable there,” she admits.

“Because it’s familiar. But New York to some can be quite intimidating.” It’s bigger than a bubble, and for a small-town kid from Oklahoma like me, it might as well be its own state.

“You’re very perceptive,” she says neutrally.

I recall her dad’s real estate portfolio. “Haven’t you ever gone to your dad’s Swiss chalet or to Colorado even?”

Shaking her head, she tells me no. “They were purchased after my mom died and for the sole purpose to stretch his investments through real estate. They were never family homes or anything like that. Same goes for the house in St. John.”

“You know, a lot of people haven’t traveled extensively…”

“How many places have you been?” she asks with a quicksilver tongue.

“Well, now that depends,” I hedge. “First off, I have an unfair advantage. I’ve been all over due to the Marines. But if you want a break down…” I screw up my face, trying to take a mental count. “Continents? Four. Countries? Seventeen. States? Thirty-two.”

If Mia’s face hadn’t been resting on her crossed arms, her jaw would be slack. “That’s incredible.”

I’ve never felt the awe of it that she seems to. Some of it was recreational, but the majority was earning my keep with Uncle Sam, and given the choice, I’d rather not go back.

“What’s incredible,” I say changing the subject, “is you.” She pops her head up at my statement and with the fear of leaving the wrong impression, I clarify. “Look at everything you’ve accomplished in your life. You’re the youngest Collections Manager at The Met. The Met for chrissake. And if working for one of the most famous museums in the world isn’t enough, you earned multiple degrees from an Ivy League college. Besides being brilliant, you’re nice and kind and selfless…” I trail off when her eyes grow wide like an owl’s. “What?”

“Nothing…I didn’t want to stop you and your flattery.” This time, she nudges my shoulder.

“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth,” I say. I’m suddenly grateful for the blanket of darkness because I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I hadn’t meant to get on a soap box and wax poetic about Mia. My client . But more and more, I feel my usual steely resolve weaken.

And it threatens to dissolve completely with her next confession.

“I’m afraid I’m not enough, that I don’t have what it takes…what if—”

“Hey,” I say turning to her, “Midas has set pretty strict rules for the company and one of them is to never indulge in the what ifs . Nothing good ever comes from it, okay?”

Her mouth presses into a tight line. “You’re right, it’s just so easy to go down that rabbit hole. It’s why I can’t sleep. All I picture is my dad and the way he sounded when he called…he was so…” She inhales sharply as if recounting the memory causes her physical pain. Hell, it probably does.

Then, I do what I’ve never done with a client. I place my arm around her shoulders to offer her comfort. Even with the greatest of intentions, some things are just better communicated without words. I planned on stopping there, offering a simple gesture of reassurance, but when she leans into the embrace, pulling her against my chest is more natural than breathing. Her lush scent of flowers billows around us and I’m all too aware of how soft she feels against me, how perfectly she fits in my arms, and how much I could get used to this. To someone like her.

For the first time in my career, I ignore the warning bells that blare inside my skull. My need to protect this woman is professional. But my want to protect her is blindingly selfish.

I mull that thought over in my mind until I feel the tension leave her body.

“You make me feel safe, Dillon.”

At first when she called me by my given name, I bristled. Now? I secretly wish she will never stop. And I’d be a damn liar if her admission didn’t make my heart swell with pride.

“Then I’ve done half my job,” I say automatically.

I feel her stiffen against me. I ease up on the hold I’ve got on her, realizing that I just inadvertently reminded her that she’s just that: a job.

Whatever we’d shared is gone, blown out on the breeze. If I could manage, I’d kick myself.

Mia rights herself and stands. “We should probably head back.”

I don’t know if there’s any saving this moment, but I try. Because Mia’s smile and good-natured demeanor are something I’ll strive to keep at the forefront. “I’ll always keep you safe, Mia. I hope you know that.” My fucking heart is on my sleeve and I pray she doesn’t trample it.

“I do.” The way she’s facing me directly and holding eye contact tells me she’s being honest. “Will you still be downstairs?”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

That single syllable eases my remaining doubt.

Last night must have been a gift, because not long after I walked Mia back to her room, the reminder that September in Colombia is rainy season was in full force. Heavy drops quickly turned to a vicious, steady rhythm. By the time dawn broke, several naturally formed streams snaked around the huts, causing a wet and muddy mess.

“You think Mother Nature is fucking with us on purpose?” Phantom asks. He’s got a cup of coffee that he’s nursing and when the aroma hits me, I’ve never been so hard up for the caffeinated drink before.

My nostrils must flare because he says, “What’d you expect? Colombian coffee in Colombia just hits different. Midas brought a carafe from the restaurant. Help yourself.”

I do. Several times. I raise my mug in his direction. “When in Colombia…”

“Do as the Colombians do,” he answers.

Midas joins us and looks out at the bleak weather. “Radar doesn’t show this shit letting up until tomorrow. You good to fly in this?”

“Affirmative. As long as the helo has decent navigation, I’ll be fine.”

“Do we smell coffee?” The two brothers saunter down, looking well-rested for having shared a queen bed all night. Quite the feat with Legion’s six-foot three-inch frame and Blaze’s muscular girth. I should’ve had the foresight to sneak in sometime during the night and snap a pic. Gathering blackmail is always a good idea with those two.

“I’m surprised you can smell anything after that symphony from your asses last night,” Phantom deadpans.

Where Legion looks smug, Blaze is exuding pride. “I will not apologize for getting the frijoles rojos,” he says with a perfect accent. “I happen to like beans.”

“Well, Tooter McGavin, nobody else likes that you like them. Thank God we were down here,” Midas says seriously. He and Phantom fist pump and I hide my smile in my mug.

“Is Sleeping Beauty up yet?” Legion asks, looking to me. I don’t care for his use of a nickname.

“No. She had a rough night,” I say, belatedly wishing I hadn’t said anything.

Midas gives me a pointed look and lowers his voice. “Care to share what that was all about last night?”

Legion and Blaze turn to each other, eyes wide with shock. “You didn’t…you know…” Blaze whispers while he put his forefinger in a formed ring of his opposite hand.

“Shut the fuck up, dude.”

Phantom crosses his arms, waiting for an explanation. With Midas and himself basically having a front row seat last night, there’s no way I can skirt the topic. Nothing happened. I was doing my job. Making sure she was alright and got back to the hut safely.

“She couldn’t sleep so I followed her, then walked her back.” I make sure to look each of the guys straight in the face. It’s not a lie. But they also don’t need to know about the vulnerability she shared with me either. I’d spare her that dignity.

“Morning guys.” Mia appears, taking the steps downstairs at an even pace. “Is that coffee?”

Blaze, having just gotten his, pipes up like an overly eager lab puppy. “Freshly poured! Cream? Sugar?”

This time, I don’t hold back the what the fuck expression on my face. Fucking ass-kisser. While he’s playing barista with Mia, Midas motions for me to follow him. We take a walk until we’re out of earshot of the others.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he cuts the bullshit. “This going to be a problem?”

I had been waiting for a lashing about how I overstepped back in New York, but last night was nothing but looking after her. Did she see it as such?

“Negative. And to be fair, would you have asked Phantom if he’d been the one that followed her?” I challenge.

Midas scoffs.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Really, Arch?”

“Yeah, really, Midas.”

If it’s possible, he stands an iota taller. “I cannot have you compromising the safety of a client,” he says hotly.

“I was doing the opposite! I was doing…” I turn and lower my voice as a couple walks by, “my job.”

He turns to walk away, but not before saying, “Just keep it in your pants.”

“Always have,” I call after him. And then what should’ve have come as an easy promise, sticks in my throat. “Always will…”

I’ve got shit for visibility. With the heavy rain I can only see about half a click out. The coast is behind us and through the downpour, the vast Colombian jungle lurks. Tree tops appear like apparitions out of the low fog and the mountains loom ahead like a sleeping giant.

There’s a collective calm in the helo, and I know the guys live for this shit. It’s a rare job when choppers and exploring are involved, but even I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to today.

“Mia. Remember what we told you, now?” Phantom asks through the headset.

Her voice is unwavering, a one-eighty from last night. “Yes. At the drop site, I’ll be paired with Blaze. We rappel second after you, and once we’re on the ground, we wait for Legion.”

“Affirmative,” he tells her.

We continue to climb, readings on the FLIR a clear indication that this landscape is steep and harsh. “Two clicks out,” I say.

Through the whir of the blades and the cabin noise, behind me, I can hear Mia and the guys ready themselves.

“Okay, I’ve got my gloves and goggles,” Mia says. “And you’re sure those loops are strong enough for the two of us, Blaze?” I don’t have to turn around to know she’s looking to the ceiling where several donut rings are welded and rope is strung throughout them.

“More than,” Blaze reassures her.

Within minutes we climb the last thousand feet. “31-0-1-2.” Perfectly flat sections of the mountaintop come into view and if it weren’t a no-land zone, it would have been a perfect place to put the bird down.

“Oh my…” Mia is in awe. “It’s so much better in person. It’s just like everything I’ve read and studied…”

“Wait til you get boots on the ground,” I tell her. “I’d imagine this would trump any lecture hall.”

“Ooof, that’s tight,” Mia squeals.

“Sorry,” Blaze says, and I know he’s checking her harness. “Not really something you want to be loose.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, but when it becomes obvious that he’s still fiddling with the ropes, I say, “First time tying a knot, Blaze?”

He doesn’t skip a beat. “Just making sure she’s snug.”

Right. By lingering at her waist? I can see him out of my peripheral, fingering the rope that goes across her groin.

“She is snug,” I growl. I allow myself only a quick glance in the review cargo mirror. I have too much to consider with these fucking updrafts. I’m trying to maintain my altitude with the cyclic controls, while staying mindful of the cross winds. I don’t need to crash the bird due to a bout of jealousy.

I hear Legion whistle into the headset, trying to conceal a chuckle.

Phantom rappels seamlessly, a heavily armed ghost descending below.

And then it’s Mia and Blaze’s turn.

“Wait!” she cries. “How do we do this? Like I’m the baby spoon? Or…or…”

“No darlin’,” he drawls in a fake southern accent. “We baby Bjorn this. That way you can close your eyes if you want to.” Fucking Blaze .

Before I can protest his farcical charade, Legion interjects. “Doesn’t matter, it’s time to go!”

Making sure the gauges are stable, I steal one last look in the mirror. Mia has her legs wrapped around Blaze’s waist and her head buried in his shoulder.

Then, they disappear.