I didn’t realize I was gonna feel this way until I found Wendy and things started falling into place. But I do. I miss this life. My girls are growing up. Daphne is almost sixteen. She’s thinking about college and boys. She wants to move to Fort Collins for her senior year of high school. Kinda slide into a more normal life before she leaves us for adulthood.
And I’m OK with that. She’s worked hard to be the girl she is today. She earned her chance at a more normal-looking life.
But then Avery isn’t far behind. Just a couple years and she’s gone too. Then my baby, Lily. It just went by so fast and I don’t know what life without the girls looks like. Will Sydney want a job? Will we move into town? Buy a timeshare somewhere?
Will we be normal?
That’s my question. Because I don’t want to be normal. I’ve never been normal and I’m not just OK with this, I love it. I like living on the edge of society. Because I miss it. And maybe it doesn’t feel good, exactly. But this sense of anticipation I feel is a little bit intoxicating. We’ve been safe for so long. No one tried to kill us. It feels a little bit like no one even cared.
I can try to convince myself that it’s a one-off. A little spice in my life, so to speak. Then back to civil domestication. Except this kind of spice comes with serious consequences and I know I should be worried about that but… yeah. I have issues.
The best way to handle this—I figure, anyway—is for me to go unfuck this Donavan character and get it out of my system.
So I guess my internal dilemma is—will this Donovan job be an epilogue to a life that’s over? Or the beginning of a whole new story?
I sigh to myself as I wait for Harrison to sign some papers in the airport office, then turn away from him and shove my hands into my pants pockets.
I’ve spent this whole week lying to myself. I need all the intel so I can keep everyone safe.
But that’s a lie. We’re not in any danger. Whatever is happening with this Adam guy and his friend Donovan, it’s got nothing to do with me. I am a service provider. When it’s over, and Donovan is fixed, if that’s the right word, I will go home and my perfect life with Sydney and the girls will resume.
So. I’m doing this because I like it. One last job before retirement.
Wasn’t that what I said last time?
Harrison finishes up and points to the little terminal as he approaches. “There’s a taxi line over there.”
I nod and join him as we walk. And sure enough, out front, there is a taxi line. No taxis, but there’s a sign that says ‘line starts here’ and a Ford truck sitting at the curb which ends up being our ride.
It’s a two-minute drive to the Americana. We could’ve walked. But that would’ve taken twenty minutes and I’m already starting to get nervous about being away so long.
It was a mistake. I knew it when I made the decision. But I need to look Nick Tate in the eyes before I give him what he wants. I need to hear the whole story. I want the entire ten years spelled out for me and I don’t want him to feel too comfortable while he’s doing that.
We get dropped off at the front of the motel and I pay the driver cash. When the old truck pulls away, Harrison and I just look at each other for a moment.
“What?” he asks. “What’s going on, Merc? Why are we here?”
I let out a long breath as I scan the line of doors, stopping to stare when I get to seventeen. “There’s someone in room seventeen I need to meet up with.”
“OK. You want me to hang here?”
“No. You gotta see this.” I direct my gaze back to Harrison. “I’m gonna ask you for some advice tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” He kinda laughs.
“Yeah.”
“Why not today?”
“Because I think we’ll feel different about it tomorrow.”
He palms his neatly trimmed beard as he thinks. An old habit, one I rather like. “OK. I guess whatever is waiting for us in room seventeen requires processing time?”
“Exactly.”
“Got it. Do we need guns?”
I pat my thigh pocket. “I got a little .380, but no. I don’t think we need guns.”
“All right. Let’s do this.”
I nod, thinking I’m ready. But then I get a sick feeling in my stomach. Like this is one of those defining moments.
“Merc?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Let’s go.” And then, before I can change my mind, I head towards room seventeen. I knock once. It takes four seconds for Nick to open the door. And those seconds go by way too fast. Because there he is. Right in front of me. The dead man himself.