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Abby threw his arm off her like it burned. She never felt good the morning after giving in to her baser instincts. He barely stirred, mumbling something before rolling over in bed. She dressed quickly, sat down at the small desk, and powered up her laptop. The cheap hotel chair creaked. She checked the news, her email, then her “special” email in that order.
Nothing of note in any of those places. She hated waiting.
Spinning in her chair, she found Beatty still sleeping, his muscled chest exposed, reminding her why she always called him when she felt lonely. She grabbed a pen from the desk and threw it at him. It bounced off one of his biceps. He blinked wearily.
“You slept over,” she said.
He pushed up on his elbows. “Yeah. So?”
“Get out.”
He smiled at her. His smile wasn’t particularly inviting or warm. She didn’t even find him that attractive. He had a nice body earned from years of hunting in the most remote areas of the world, hauling guns and camping equipment up mountains and through forests. And he was always nearby. Abby couldn’t really think of anything else redeeming about him.
Actually, he was loyal. She had to give him that. Maybe that meant something.
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “Seriously.”
Beatty pushed himself out of bed, making no effort to dress quickly like she had. Wilson didn’t demure, enjoying the tight lines of his body until he managed to slip on his boxers.
“This is dumb, you know.”
“It’s not dumb,” she said. “It’s setting a boundary.”
“I’m not going to force you to marry me or something because we had sex. You know that, right?”
She didn’t answer, but neither did she turn away. After he slipped on his t-shirt, he headed for the door. No shoes. He’d come barefoot.
“Breakfast?” he asked as he opened the door.
“Of course. One hour.”
“You got it, boss.”
Abby cringed slightly at the honorific as the hotel door slammed at Beatty’s exit. She sighed. This always happened when the jobs got light. She preferred to keep moving. Keep hunting. Keep killing. Keep amassing wealth that she had absolutely no use for.
She stared at the closed door for a few minutes, lost in thought. Sometimes the briefest glimpse of the future she never had played across her mind, often in the oddest of times. She sighed and stood, then threw off the clothes she’d just put on and started the water for a hot shower. Just before she stepped into the tub, her laptop dinged.
She had a ding for everything, and this ding was the most important of all. Not bothering to cover herself, she scuttled back over to the chair, sat down, and unlocked the laptop, quickly scanning the email that had come in. Her heart sank.
A job was a job. It’s what she did and what she’d do.
She responded tersely: On it. Will be at location within 24 hours.
Wilson leaned back in the chair and breathed deeply, the mesh poking and prodding her bare back. Back to her past, then. Somehow, she always thought this might happen. It was her past that led her to this line of work in the first place. She’d tried this job before—back before it was a job—back when it was a passion. She’d failed then, but now she had experience... and money.
She grabbed her cell phone from the desk and dialed up Beatty.
He answered almost immediately. “I know you don’t want me back in your bed this quickly.”
“We got a new assignment. Check your email and make the arrangements.”
“Oh shit. Really?”
“Yep.”
“Where to this time?”
“Washington.”
A slight pause on the line. She knew why.
“How long’s it been?” he finally asked.
“Fifteen years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah. Long enough. I gotta go back eventually.”
“You really don’t.”
She didn’t answer, as her mind took her back to memories she couldn’t shake. He didn’t know how close to home he’d hit. How close to home she’d have to go for this mission.
“Make the arrangements. Breakfast in an hour still.”
“You got it, but...”
She didn’t need this. She didn’t need Beatty to be... human.
“Abby. Seriously. We can take the next one.”
“Don’t call me that. We’ll take this one. It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine.
