Single Lady Spy 01 - The End of Me

hundred percent. It’s why I quit CI. I knew I could never be a mom and an agent. I need to be the best.” I lay back on the lawn of the strange house I was in front of, and looked up at the desert sky, "Is it ever this blue, back home?" I asked, not wanting to discuss it anymore.
    "Not in Boston. But then again my home is Hawaii, so it has its moments there."
    I turned my face, "You’re from Hawaii?"
    He nodded and turned his face to me.
    I sniffed again, "Is the symbol on your hip Hawaiian?"
    He shook his head. I saw him shut it off when he spoke the words, "My little brother drew it for me when he was eight."
    I let him have the last word. There were too many things in the sentence he wanted to stay hidden. Instead, I asked the obvious, "So you think James is alive?"
    He nodded, "Some shit has happened in the last couple days that makes no sense."
    I flinched, "You think they traded me for something?"
    He nodded, "I have no idea what. I knew something was up when they let you ride on the plane with him. That’s a huge risk for an agent. But then to make you kill the fat man, who by the way, had done time for bad things with a fourteen year old girl in Havana and gotten away with it."
    I smiled, "Thank you."
    He nodded, "Then for them to make you stay in the hotel with Servario? Why? For what? To kill Derringer, a lame agent who means nothing to anyone? No, none of this is adding up."
    My brow knit together, "That doesn’t make sense."
    He nodded, "I know. I mean what's so special about you?"
    I laughed as he backpedaled quickly, "I mean… well, you now. He's like a rich arms dealer and you're… a regular…"
    “You mean a cougar?” I gave him my most offended look and shoved him.
    He laughed and pointed, "Admit it."
    I crossed my arms under my flattened chest and nodded. "You're right. He can buy any girl he wants. Why me—and did James trade me to Servario? If that’s the case, I won’t recover from that one. I’m not a prostitute."
    He rolled over and faced me, "What about what James was working on?"
    I shrugged, "You know as well as I do, he never told me shit."
    He narrowed his eyes, "We are missing a piece of the puzzle and I know you're the key."
    I looked back at the house we were in front of and then back at him, "We need to get off these people’s grass. I would be flipping out, if I were them."
    He laughed and stood offering me a hand, "How's the foot?"
    I sighed, "Sucky."
    He bent down, "Get on."
    I frowned, "What?"
    "Get on. Piggy-back ride."
    I shook my head but he backed into me. I wrapped my arms around his thick neck. He lifted me like I was nothing and carried me.
    "Feels like a camel ride."
    He chuckled, "Focus. So what kind of gigs did you have as an agent?"
    I closed my eyes and remembered, "We mostly worked September 11th back then. It was fresh. That was our major goal. Servario was a gunrunner; we focused hard on anyone who was involved in weapons."
    "Did you uncover anything you shouldn’t have?"
    I laughed, "I was fresh off the farm. I ran coffees and got into the field for basic shit. I never was a big player, ever."
    He tapped his fingers against my calves, "Weird. You don’t recall seeing anything and thinking, this is weird or anything like that?"
    I shook my head and wrapped my legs and arms tighter.
    "You like having me between your thighs?" he asked sarcastically.
    I grinned, "I do, actually."
    He looked back, "Yeah?"
    I nodded, "It's nice. I can tell all my older-lady cougar friends that I rode on you."
    He looked back, "If you want, I can give you something to tell them about."
    I rolled my eyes, "I don’t do the whole notch on the belt thing, Coop. Wasn’t my thing fifteen years ago and it's not my thing now. I am not the person I was in the hotel. That doesn’t happen to me, ever. You may have been a gigolo in Sweden, not me. I ran coffees and Intel."
    He crossed the street to the safe house and walked up the driveway. He opened the door and carried me in.
    "You can put me down." I slapped his shoulder.
    He squatted and let me climb down. I limped to the single couch in the room.
    Luce gave me a nod, "You hurt yourself?"
    "Twisted ankle."
    She carried in my purse and dropped it in my lap. "This thing has been vibrating so much, I almost stuck it down my pants."
    Coop grimaced and pressed an ice pack on my ankle. I winced from the cold and opened the stupid clutch. I pulled out the phone and sighed, "Twelve missed calls."
    Something silver caught my eye. I