Edge of Desire

Chapter 11

Avery

For some reason, it was difficult to breathe. It felt like I was having an asthma attack, only I didn’t have asthma. I pried my eyes open and found myself staring into darkness, which was odd. There should’ve been some kind of lighting in this plane. I wiggled my head around and I realized my face was smushed on something. Oh, no. I didn’t. But yes, I did. My face was planted in Preston’s lap, and there was something decidedly large and hard directly beneath my mouth. I jerked my head up and found myself eye to eye with the owner of such appendage.

He didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. I had drooled everywhere. My chin was wet with the darn stuff, and I didn’t dare look at where my head had just been. I tried to speak, but nothing came to the surface. He only stared at me, with those damn sexy eyes of his, half closed and all golden brown.

Why in God’s name had he let me sleep like that? I sat up, then dragged my hand across my mouth, wiping the drool off my face. Then, much to my dismay, or maybe it was my pleasure, he reached out his hand, took his thumb, and ran it across my chin.

“You missed a spot,” he murmured. His voice was deep and husky and caused shivers to run up my spine.

I licked my lips because my mouth had suddenly gone dry.

“You look very ...” he began, but I interrupted him.

“No, don’t bother telling me. I’m sure I look like something the cat dragged in.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

I hadn’t noticed at first, but we had a bit of an audience. When I sat all the way back in my seat, several men around us were giving Preston that look guys give each other. Then I made the mistake of letting my eyes drop to his crotch. I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped. He had a giant circle of wet drool right smack-dab in the center, courtesy of yours truly.

“Jeez.” I rubbed my forehead. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I wouldn’t have dared.” That’s all he said. What the heck did that mean?

The men that were close to us chuckled, Preston included. I flashed him the nastiest look I could muster. Then I added, “Go ahead and keep that up, mister.”

Then some rat bastard sitting a couple of people away from me leaned forward and said, “Oh, and what are you gonna do to him? Hit him up with another crotch drool?” There were other comments that flew around, but I couldn’t hear all of them for the noisiness of the plane. It was probably my saving grace, because I was mortified. There wasn’t any hope of extracting myself from this embarrassing predicament. Should I try to dab the drool from his crotch? Or would that draw even more attention to my major faux pas? Where was Melissa when I needed her most? I decided silence was my best course of action. Apparently, I had a pouty look on my face because Preston leaned over and whispered, “I wouldn’t stick your lip out that far if I were you. Those men over there would probably give their left nut to get their mouths on it.”

“Ah! Of all the ...”

“Hey, I’m not the one pouting.”

“Hrmpphh!” That was it. No more talking. This man was sending me so many mixed signals, I didn’t know if I was up or down anymore. And then there was that little thing about those men who wanted to kill us. What happened to my normal, mundane, boring life? I mean, one minute, I was living in Charleston, bored to death, killing myself with fried chicken and chocolate-covered donuts. The next, I’m flying in a humongous military jet, with some hot DEA agent, fleeing from some evil drug lords who wanted to kill us.

I went to take a breath and couldn’t draw any air into my lungs. And it wasn’t because my face was squished in hot DEA agent’s crotch. I seriously could not breathe. I was gulping in air like crazy, but it wasn’t reaching my lungs. My head jerked around, and then I hopped to my feet and bolted. I didn’t have a clue where I was going. I just had to get out of here. A loud roaring filled my ears, much more than what the plane made, and my vision swarmed with little dots. Someone’s hands latched on to my shoulders, and I tried to scream, but there was that no-oxygen thing, so I cowered, fell to my knees instead, and curled up into a ball. God, where was all the damn air? What was happening? My hands covered my ears because the thundering in them was so loud it hurt.

Something covered my mouth and I struggled to get away from it until a warm hand moved mine away from my ear. “Deep breaths, Avery. Long and slow.”

I recognized that voice. I tried to take a breath but wasn’t able. Then the soothing voice spoke again. “That’s right. Take another one.”

The voice coached me along, and finally, my throat and lungs opened, and I inhaled deeply as precious air flowed in.

“Not too fast. Stay with the long and slow breaths for a bit.”

Whatever had been on my face was removed and cool air hit my mouth. I opened my eyes and saw Preston hovering over me with a paper bag in his hand.

“Hey there. You back with me?”

I kept blinking, trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. “I … I’m not sure. Where are we?”

“We’re on a plane flying to Andrews. Remember?”

“Ugh.” I rubbed my face. And then I did the worst thing possible. I started bawling. I mean the kind where snot bubbles out of your nose and runs everywhere and you start hiccupping and all that crap. He patted my back and didn’t utter a word. How could I be such a goober? For the life of me, I could not pull my shit together. My attempts at apologizing sounded foolish. The words came out like those snorting noises pigs make when they’re eating. That made me cry even harder. And then when I remembered everything that was going on, the floodgates really opened. I’m pretty sure I cried for two hours because one of those military guys came up to us and told us we were about to land and should take our seats. Preston offered me his hand and we both rose to our feet. I used my sleeve to wipe the tears and snot bubbles off. It was gross but I didn’t have any tissues.

I wasn’t proud of my absurd behavior. It made me feel like a toddler whose toy had broken. “Jeez, can this possibly get any worse?” I said it out loud, not intending to.

Preston, hearing my question, answered, “Avery, this is nothing. You should see some of the predicaments I’ve found myself in.”

Before we could make it back to our seats, the plane hit an air pocket and we both went flying. Of course, hot DEA agent recovered admirably, but not Extra-Large Avery. I landed on my ass, in front of God and everyone else. That was the whipped cream and cherry on top of the sundae. I had finally hit the bottom of the Avery barrel.

Leaving that plane was the greatest feeling in the world. I hit that ramp at a full-on sprint.

“Avery, wait up,” Preston yelled.

I paid him no mind. I wanted to get the hell out of that metal tube and go somewhere to hide my head in the sand. Maybe it would make me forget everything that happened. I doubted it. It wasn’t possible to forget being humiliated like that. I would take that plane ride to the grave.

The pounding of feet got closer and then he grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. I was so winded I would’ve stopped any minute anyway.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere,” I gasped out between breaths. “Away from here.”

“We have to go inside and wait for the next flight.”

“I can’t. I want to go home. Back to Charleston. I want to wake up and know this was some crazy dream and that none of this awful stuff is real. I want my old boring and sad life back. In fact, I take back all the bad stuff I said about it. It wasn’t that bad now that I think of it. You can leave me here and I’ll get my own ride home. I’ll be fine. Really.”

His head solemnly shook. “You know I can’t do that. You have to come with me. Now.”

“Please, Preston. If those men come and get me, I’ll just tell them I don’t know you. I really don’t. I mean I only now learned your name isn’t Just Miles. Please,” I begged.

“Avery, you know I can’t.”

My body quivered so bad my teeth rattled and it wouldn’t stop. I rubbed my hands together and then folded my arms around me. My leg shook as my knee thumped up and down.

He turned me around and we headed toward the building. Once inside, I found the restroom. Maybe there was a window in there I could escape from. Then I realized Preston had my bag. I walked out of the restroom and Preston was there, waiting.

“How long before our next flight?” It was the middle of the night and all I wanted to do was sleep.

He checked his watch. “We have a few hours, so I figured we could get a bite to eat. There’s a canteen over there.” He pointed down the hall.

“Great. More chips and cookies.”

“I think this one has sandwiches too.”

Like that would make me happy. And who eats sandwiches from a vending machine anyway? Gross.

We walked inside and he began to buy all kinds of crap. Then a thought struck. “Hey, how can you use your credit card, but I can’t use mine?”

“Because I have several aliases and this card is in one of their names.” He looked at the card and chuckled.

”What’s so funny?”

“This card.” He held it up. “It belongs to a guy named Miles Peterson.”

“Why is that funny?”

“If you recall, that’s the name I used when we met.”

“Right.” I still didn’t think it was funny.

“Hey look, this machine sells protein bars.”

“How exciting.”

He must’ve spent a hundred bucks in there. When he was done, we took seats at a table, and he spread his purchases out. I grabbed a bottle of water and a protein bar. When we were finished eating, I asked, “Are there comfortable seats anywhere? I need some sleep.”

We left the canteen and sat in the waiting area. I conked out. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep, but he woke me up and told me our ride was here. The sun had risen, so it was morning. “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven? How long did I sleep?”

“Six hours.”

Six hours. Why was I still tired? I yawned and stood. When I looked out the window, a small jet waited on the tarmac with its door open. It resembled the jet owned by Middleton Enterprises, only smaller.

”You ready?”

“I guess.” I didn’t know what I was ready for or what awaited me.

We climbed the stairs of the jet and were met by a flight crew of one. I asked for a glass of bourbon, neat, but a peculiar expression formed on the man’s face.

“They don’t serve alcohol on board, Avery.”

Preston buckled my seat belt, and we were airborne moments later.

“Is it possible to go insane in twenty-four hours?” I asked him.

“I suppose so.”

“Then you might need to check me into the psychiatric ward.”

“That’s not even funny, Avery.”

“I’m not joking, Preston.”

He looked me hard in the eyes and then lifted the divider between our seats. He put his arm around me and pulled me as close to him as he could, considering we were wearing seat belts, and hugged me.

“Words can’t tell you how sorry I am about this, but I promise it will get better.”

“Do you really think so or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

The pause, the hesitation indicated what he was going to say, even before he said it.

“Probably a little of both.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure. I’ll have to get a new job.”

He laughed.

“I didn’t mean that as a joke,” I said harshly.

“I’m sorry. I laughed because I wish I could tell you how many times I prayed for the DEA to fire me. I can’t get a new job and I really want one!”

I sat up and looked at him. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you just walk away?”

He scraped his lower lip between his teeth. “I wish it were that simple. It’s difficult to explain and I’m not even sure I can.”

I was being dismissed. He probably wouldn’t entertain another question about it. I leaned back in my seat and pretended to sleep. Eventually, the pretense stopped, and I slept again. I have no idea how long the flight was because I slept the whole way.

We finally reached our destination and deplaned. If I never saw another plane, it would be fine by me. I happened to peek at Preston, and he wore a look of complete solitude.

Then it struck me. “You really love it here, don’t you?”

“You have no idea. This place relaxes me more than anything else. It takes me away from all the ugliness of my day-to-day world. Yes, I love it here. I can’t wait for you to see the cabin.”

We walked around to the side of the building where there was a parking lot. I wondered how we would be getting to his place when he unlocked a Jeep Wrangler.

“Is this yours?”

“Yeah. She’s always waiting on me,” he answered with a smile.

We left the airport and stopped at the grocery store to stock up on supplies. Preston bought tons of food and I was glad because I was not one of those girls who lived on one lettuce leaf and a celery stalk every day. Then we drove for about an hour. The views were something out of a picture book, snowcapped majestic mountains rising before us with an azure sky as a backdrop. We passed the Missouri Headwaters State Park and kept going for about another half hour and then he turned onto a one-lane road. After about five miles we came to a locked gate. He put his palm on a pad and the gate slid open. We went through two more of those and then came to a ten-foot gate that was attached to a ten-foot wall. It seemed to surround the entire place. The others had only been six feet with fences you see on ranches. I also noticed there were cameras positioned everywhere.

I commented on this. “What is this place? A fortress or something?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he answered. “You might say I don’t take chances with unwanted visitors.”

This was frightening. He took these threats seriously. After we drove through the final gate, we still had another half mile to travel until we arrived at his cabin. His version of a cabin and mine were vastly different. His was beautiful.

I shook my head, trying to absorb everything. “Preston, this is amazing.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

Large timbers and huge rocks combined with stacked stone made the house look incredible. It was surrounded by magnificent views and was something you’d see in a magazine. My parents had taken us to one of those fancy resorts in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, when I was a teenager, and that’s what this reminded me of, but on a much smaller scale. It was breathtaking.

The afternoon air was crisp and sweetly scented with hints of wildflowers that bloomed as far as the eye could see.I spied a narrow trail right off the gravel driveway, and without even thinking, my feet carried me toward it. I soon found myself surrounded by those very flowers I had noticed earlier as I walked along the trail. Resplendent mountains rose before me, reclaiming their place in my heart. I had always been a mountain girl, ever since the first time my family went to Vail, Colorado, on a ski trip.I must’ve been four years old, and when we were leaving, I asked my mom if we could take one of the mountains home, because Charleston would look so much better if it had one of its very own. I begged my parents to take me there every year. Everyone else in the family wanted a beach vacation, but not me. I wanted the clean air and knock-your-socks-off views of the mountains. And I wanted to ski.

There was a large rock next to the trail, so I plopped my bottom on it and sat there, gazing at all the glory surrounding me. A sense of peace seeped into my bones, soothing my ragged emotions. As I took it all in, I rested my hand on my heart, feeling my pulse slowing as the beauty of everything settled into me.

I was tired, so tired of this emotional roller coaster. I’d gone from a normal life to an insane existence. One minute I made an ass out of myself as I mauled Just Miles. Or Preston, which was his real name. The refusal from him filled me with shame. Then he took me on a death ride as he drove that motorcycle like a psychotic maniac. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I discovered how wrong I’d been. I was forced to fly on two gigantic planes. The second flight was humiliating when I woke up to see I had drooled all over Preston’s crotch as I napped. I was forced to endure the jokes from the men surrounding us. Oh, I almost forgot about the anxiety attack and falling flat on my ass afterward.

My lungs filled with fresh mountain air as I drew in a long slow breath. The only bright star in all of this was the mountains that currently surrounded me. I couldn’t live in constant conflict like this. I either had to make some kind of truce with him or walk away. The second option wasn’t realistic. I was miles away from any town or city without a phone to contact anyone. And it was laughable to think Uber would pick me up out here, in the middle of nowhere.

Guess I was going to make friends with Preston. This would be difficult. Yes, I was attracted to him. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be? The man oozed sex appeal. And that kiss he gave me. I’d never had a man make me feel this helpless because he was irresistible. He sent my heart rate into the danger zone. Lust exploded in me when he was near. How could I have these physical responses to him when I was so angry? Because of him, the life I once knew, no longer existed.

The air began to turn chilly when I realized I must’ve been out here a long time. The sky was turning a variety of hues, from bright orange to pink to red as the sun made its way toward the horizon. Not really wanting to face reality, but knowing I must, I unwillingly rose and slowly walked toward the house. Most of the lights were on, giving it a warm and inviting feel. I looked in the Jeep and everything had been unloaded.

Maybe I could cook dinner for us. That way I could avoid conversation with him. I marched up to the house with that as my goal. When I walked inside, I gasped. Preston’s cabin was rustically elegant. Warm wood, stacked stone, cushy area rugs, and beautiful paintings welcomed this visitor as she entered. I briefly wondered how he could bear to be away from here. Then the aromas greeted me. It also clued me in that he had beat me to the punch on dinner. I nosed my way around, checking things out as I went. Preston certainly had good taste.

Soft music played in the background, and pans clanged in the distance. I wanted to stay right here, and not face him. I spied a large staircase and thought about going upstairs to avoid the inevitable confrontation. But then my stomach betrayed me and growled. I was starving. I tiptoed my way toward the kitchen, following the sounds coming from there. Preston stood over the stove cooking. I observed him for a few moments and admired the view. Then I cleared my throat.

Without turning, he asked, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did. This place is ...” My voice caught, and I found I couldn’t go on. I cleared my throat again and asked, “How do you ever leave?” I was curious about that.

He stopped and turned. His eyes sought mine and held my gaze, but he didn’t utter a word. Then he finally said, “With great difficulty.” I eyed a plate of cheese and crackers, so I went and ate some. He turned back to whatever he was cooking and added, “Feel free to explore. I’ve set your things upstairs. If you’d like, you can take a shower or a bath. There’s a large tub in the master and you’re welcome to use it.”

That sounded heavenly. “That sounds nice.” God knew I could use a good scrubbing. Maybe it would wash away the memories of the last twenty-four hours. “How long before dinner?”

“Whenever. I’m making chicken chili. It can simmer, and the longer the better, so take your time.”

I headed up the steps without another word. There were several bedrooms up here and I went from room to room, exploring. I found mine because my polka-dotted bag sat on the bed. I grabbed some clothes to change into after the bath. It was easy to figure out which room was his, as it was the largest of all of them. The bathroom was awesome. It had an enormous glass window right in front of the large tub so I could sit there and watch the sun set over the mountains. I filled the tub and added some bubble bath, giggling as I did so. Preston and bubbles just didn’t go together in my book.

When the tub was filled, I got in and sighed. It was wonderful. Hot water eased the tension from the last day. It was exactly what I needed. Thoughts ran through my head over how I was going to have to job hunt again. Maybe my job at SoftwarePlus was still open. If I explained everything, there might be a chance of keeping it. Then I scoffed. Who was I kidding? Even if the job was still open, he’d fire me on the spot.

The water was almost cold, and the sun had set by the time I got out. My fingertips looked like raisins. I stood and then realized there weren’t any towels nearby.

“Damn,” I muttered. It was getting chilly now, so I stepped out of the tub and went in search of some. When I opened the bathroom door, I walked directly into a very surprised Preston. I screamed and then he yelled. Realizing I was butt-ass naked, my eyes darted around the room looking for a towel.

“You don’t have any towels,” I yelled.

“Yes, I do. They’re in the next room, on the towel warmer. I was coming up to tell you because I forgot.”

The chill fled as my face heated. The rest of my body quickly followed. I stopped and stared at him because he was ogling my body.

After what happened back in Seattle, shame descended as my hands tried to cover my privates. “Stop staring at me like that. You’ve made it clear that I disgust you and I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” Anger edged my voice.

His brow creased as he frowned. “Disgust me? Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Seriously? Do you think I’m a fool?”

“No. Why would I think that?” His voice was low and raspy.

“Because I all but attacked you and did everything but give you a blow—” I shook my head trying to dispel that awful memory. ”You turned me down, remember? What else am I supposed to think? That was the most embarrassing thing ever. I do recognize I’m a large girl and I’m sure you don’t want to see this, so please?” I couldn’t look at him, so I stared at my lavender-colored toenails.

“Avery, you may be a lot of things, but large isn’t one of them. I think you’re perfect.”

“Perfect? Me?” My head jerked up to look at him, checking to see if he was making fun of me. I didn’t see any signs of ridicule in his gaze.

He nodded as he stared at me. “Yes, you,” he said seriously.

I frowned, trying to figure him out. “Then why did you ...?”

“It’s a long fucking story but has nothing to do with you. You’re so damn perfect I can hardly stand it.”

I’m not sure who moved first but it didn’t matter. We landed in each other’s arms and then he kissed me. Yes, Preston, hot DEA agent kissed Extra-Large Avery and he thought she was perfect.

His breath mingled with mine as he pulled me tightly against him and continued to kiss me. Heat poured off him as I grasped his waist, fastening my fingers onto his shirt, and hanging on for dear life. In the beginning his touch was tentative, almost as if he were afraid of hurting me, like I was a fragile little thing. But when he felt my response, things shifted.He pulled back and ran his fingers softly over my cheeks, sliding his thumbs across my lips.

“Don’t ever, for one second, doubt how absolutely gorgeous you are,” he whispered.

His lips collided with mine again as his fingers twisted in my wet and tangled hair. His tongue wreaked havoc inside my mouth. I moaned as he licked my lower lip and then pulled it into his mouth and sucked on it. My hands wandered up and rested on his chest for a moment, feeling his heart slamming beneath my palm. I placed my other hand on his cheek and slid my fingers into the hair around his temples. I opened my eyes because I wanted to see his face as we kissed. I wasn’t prepared to see him returning my gaze. There was no stopping the sound that escaped from my lips. You would’ve thought I’d just had the big O, and my body felt pretty darn close to it too. His eyes were soft and warm, making my belly tighten and flutter, so I pressed even closer to him. There was something about this man that made me want to rub myself all over him. And then it happened. I started purring. I’m not sure why being around him brought out the feline in me, but it did, and there was no stopping me now.

Pulling my mouth away from his, I rubbed my cheek against his and my hands moved, until he captured them in his.

“Avery, as much as I would like this to go on, I think we need to slow down a bit.” He was sincere. It was written in his lovely golden-brown eyes.

He was right. I didn’t need to be sinking my claws into him so quickly, but damn, he was hot. And I was bothered. But there was the tiny fact that I hated him for ruining my life.

I stiffened. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Avery.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve wanted to touch you since the first day I saw you.”

I swallowed, hard. His voice, husky and deep, took my breath away. My body betrayed my brain. Again. I didn’t want to desire him. I wanted to keep hating him. When I glanced at his eyes, they sparkled like gold. It really should be against the law for someone to look this sexy.

When I wasn’t choked up with lust, I said, “The same could be said for me.” I wanted to tear the shirt off his back and do all sorts of dirty things to him, but I hated myself for it.

“Preston?”

“Yes?”

“This is a little awkward. Being naked and all.”

“Hmm. I love you naked.”

“Well, that’s nice, but I’d feel better if you were naked too.” Where the heck did that come from?

He laughed.

“What I meant was, we’d be on an even playing field, so to speak. Not that we’re playing or anything.” Just shut up already.

He chuckled again. “Makes sense. Does this mean you’re not going to walk around naked all night?”

I scrunched up my face and said, “What?”

He smirked. “It would be amazing if you did. That’s all.”

I was still hugging him tightly. “Hardly. I don’t even want to let you go because then you’ll get a full frontal of me.”

With a finger under my chin, he tilted my head back and asked, “You really do have a body-image problem, don’t you?”

“That’s what happens when you gain a bunch of weight.”

“Avery, I don’t know what you looked like before, but to me you couldn’t look any better. You’re exactly how a woman should look. Curvy and soft. Not straight and hard. I don’t know why women think they need to look like men nowadays. It’s not attractive at all. You, on the other hand, are positively gorgeous.”

Okay, I’m not gonna lie. Preston just scored a million points with that comment. My anger began to slip away. He walked and tugged me along with him, still holding me against him. We went to the next room and standing next to the wall was the infamous towel warmer. He pulled one off and wrapped it around me. But before I could step away, he said, “Avery, there are things you should know about me”—he looked off to the other side of the room for a second or two—“things that aren’t so pleasant. Things I ...” He bit his lip, fighting to say the words.

“What is it?”

“Look, why don’t you get dressed and join me downstairs? Then we’ll talk.”

I nodded. It sounded much better than trying to have a conversation in this state.

It didn’t take long to pull on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I slipped on some flip-flops and met him in the den.

He’d poured us some wine and handed me a glass. We sat on one of the couches. I loved this room. The focal point was a huge stone fireplace, but it had a vaulted beamed ceiling and was filled with soft cozy furnishings.

He released a long sigh, but before he spoke, I stopped him. “Look, I know you want to tell me something, but let me go first. I seriously don’t want to like you. After last night, I want to hate you. But there’s this annoying thing that won’t go away. I happen to be very attracted to you. I’ve told myself it was a passing thing, but that was a giant lie. With that being said, I’m willing to form a truce.”

His brow quirked. “A truce?”

“See, there you go, making fun of me.”

His jaw slackened and he asked, “Making fun of you? I’m not making fun of you.”

“Then why did your brow pop up? You did a brow smirk. I know what that means.”

“A brow smirk?”

“Yeah, your brow smirked at me.”

“I didn’t know a brow could smirk.” He pressed his lips together like he was trying not to laugh.

“And now you’re laughing at me. Go on and deny it, ’cause I know you will.”

“Avery, I didn’t do a brow smirk. I was only pondering your idea of a truce.”

“Well, it can’t work if you make fun of me.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Can we just get back to this idea of yours?”

I cast him a suspicious look. How could I not? Every time I wanted to explain something, he laughed. And then there was that little thing about how he’d fabricated everything, from his name to his profession. He was an extremely good liar, so how could I know what was true and what wasn’t? And I told him that.

“That’s a fair observation. But I haven’t lied to you since we got off the motorcycle. I swear.”

My gaze bored into his and I didn’t see an ounce of dishonesty. My thumb and forefinger squeezed my bottom lip as I thought over everything. “Okay. I just want to say this. I don’t know if anyone was out to kill us. But for the sake of this conversation, let’s say they were. You threw everything to the wind and got me away from them. I’ll give you that. So, let’s move beyond it because I’m tired of the scenario replaying in my head. Which brings me back to where I was a minute ago about the truce. I’m not going to mention anything about what happened again. However, I want to know more about you, but I don’t know where you should start because you’re a blank slate.”

He began by telling me how his role with the DEA had taken him undercover, infiltrating the biggest drug cartel that was responsible for a massive amount of heroin and fentanyl being smuggled into the U.S. He worked in that role for over six years and even served time in prison.

“Prison? Why?”

“It was a part of being undercover.”

I massaged my temples. “Jeez, you really got screwed, didn’t you?” I couldn’t imagine doing that for any job.

“You have no idea.”

And then I realized what I’d said. What a dummy. I smacked myself in the forehead. “I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing to ask but I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know and don’t worry about it.”

He said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. But I didn’t buy it. “Can you tell me about it? I mean prison not the other.” I was a bit curious on account of I’d never known anyone who’d spent time behind bars before. But then I realized what I said … again. What was wrong with me?

“Oh lord, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” He was grinning at me. How could he grin when I asked him something like that? Then my big mouth blurted, “So, what was prison like?” I just needed to hide in the closest closet. Why the hell would he want to talk about it?

His eyes locked with mine, and I doubly regretted asking the question. Then I remembered the other day when I caught him in his bedroom, that awful day I nearly mauled the poor man. I recalled seeing all those scars on his torso.

“It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, and I’ll just leave it at that.”

“Enough said. I should never have asked you.”

“It’s fine. Everyone asks. Here’s the thing. Most guys my age who end up in prison have done some kind of time here and there ... small stuff, you know? I went straight to the big house and those guys in there made me pay my dues.”

His whole body tensed, and his leg bounced up and down. Whatever they had done to him was bad. I wasn’t stupid, so I could figure out some of it, but I couldn’t make myself think about it. This man had done all of that because of his job. “What the hell kind of people do you work for?”

“It was important to make the cartel believe I was one of them.”

“Fuck.” I had no other words for that.

I put my hand on his leg, and he flinched. Yeah, that didn’t work out too well, so I touched his hand instead. He seemed okay with that.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what else to say,” I whispered.

“Not really anything to say.” He shrugged it off as though it were nothing. But it was everything.

“You said there were things I needed to know. Was that it?”

A harsh laugh filled the room. “I wish. I’m fucked up. That’s the short version.”

“Well, damn, who wouldn’t be after going to prison?”

“I believe if I’d been some petty criminal, it wouldn’t have been that bad. But you should know I was raped, and not just once.”

I’d already figured that out. I mean it was prison. Wasn’t that sort of the standard operating procedure there? “Preston, I figured as much.”

“It left me with a major case of PTSD.”

“It would’ve been a miracle if it hadn’t.” How can anyone go through that and come out unscathed?

“And then there’s what came after.”

“After?” Why did I feel like the other shoe was about to drop?