Single Lady Spy 01 - The End of Me

shook my head, “So weird. Her world is normal and mine is destroyed,” I muttered, before I could stop myself.
    He said nothing. When the truck stopped, the door was opened. I climbed out, ignoring everything around me. I was overcome with the strangest feeling I’d had since my husband died/ran away.
    I was lost.
    He grabbed my hand and pulled me in a door. I caught a warm breeze, loaded with the smell of the ocean and frowned, “Are we at the beach?”
    He pulled me inside and closed the door. He looked at me, “Don’t try anything. They will hurt you, if you try to leave.” He pressed his lips against my forehead and walked away.
    “Where are you going?” I asked, like I had a right to know.
    He waved, “Out for the night,” and vanished down a long wide corridor. I looked around at the splendor. Everything of his was beautiful. My home was amazing and in all the right areas, whereas his was all luxury. Luxury I was completely alone in and not in the mood to enjoy.
    I turned and walked into the large sitting area off the front room. A bottle of Apothic was already opened and poured into the carafe next to the empty bottle.
    I poured a glass, sighing.
    The walls were covered in art. It was rich and warm Spanish-styled home. It suited the sexy version of him I wanted to see again.
    I slumped into a leather, burnt-orange sofa and drank.
    “Out for the night?” I muttered and pulled out my phone, tapping it against my palm.
    My head game of being the one who was pissed off, didn’t work. He didn’t come crawling and beg to know why or brought me flowers. Of course seeing it now, the reason for James’ constant worry about my moods was obvious. He had a guilty conscience.
    I stood and grabbed the carafe and walked down the other hallway. I clicked on light switches, only to discover an array of stunning rooms. Finally, I reached a room with a large fireplace and fabric couches. I curled up on one with my wine and dialed 9-1-1.
    Luce answered, “Hey?” She looked worried.
    I put a finger to my lips, “Hey.”
    She frowned, “You okay?”
    I nodded, “Yeah. I just need answers. Did Fitz get away?”
    She cocked an eyebrow, “Yeah. He woke us up and dragged us to some safe house. We stayed for two hours, then got in a helicopter, and then a private jet. He dropped us in Boston.”
    I felt confusion all over my face, “Jet?”
    She nodded, “Yeah. Jet.”
    In the background I heard Coop yelling. The phone went crazy and then refocused on his face.
    He looked savage, “What did I say, Evie?”
    “I need answers, Coop.”
    He made a face, “Don’t give me that shit. Fitz filled in a lot of blanks. We were getting somewhere. You fucking bailed, because you wanted to see him again and don’t bullshit me.”
    I shook my head, “No, I swear. Fitz was never going to tell us anything useful. What more do we know? We know what the Burrow is and that’s it. We don’t know where it is, or who’s there, or what to do with the information. We still don’t have any resources.” I sighed and looked down shaking my head. His sentence hit my ears, “Wait, what? Did you say jet? Where the hell did Fitz get a jet?”
    Coop’s look matched mine, “He hasn’t always had that?”
    I snorted, “Uh no. The buyout for people like us is about half the value of a pension.”
    He paused, “Weird. He seemed pretty comfy in it. The pilot knew him.”
    I wriggled my nose, “Was the pilot gay?”
    Coop scoffed, “How the hell should I know?”
    I rolled my eyes, “Ask Luce.”
    He turned, “Yo, was that pilot gay?”
    I could hear her response, “Almost as gay as you.”
    He frowned.
    I ignored their banter and replied, “He might be dating the owner. Gay people hire gay people, so they don’t get fired for being gay.”
    He frowned harder, “Gays don’t get fired for being gay, it’s not the fifties, Evie.”
    I raised my eyebrows, “Coop, a teacher got fired in Idaho last week, because her dead mother’s obituary had her partner’s name in it. She’s a lesbian.”
    His jaw dropped, “Are you for real?”
    I nodded.
    “That’s sick. Okay, but back to brass tax. I’m coming to get you.”
    I winked, “This is what’s wrong with the world. Stay close; I’ll let you know when I’m ready to get picked up.”
    He scowled, “Try not to have too much fun.”
    I laughed, “I think you need to head back to Sweden for the week. You seem tense.”
    He flipped me the bird and I pressed it off.
    I