The Agent
“Isn’t Baltimore a little close?” I asked, watching as we got off on the exit taking us into the city. Mateo had woken me up early this morning, explaining it was time for us to leave Virginia behind. With my death and his attempted arrest still fresh, we couldn’t risk anyone seeing us.
We’d been on the road for almost two hours now. Mateo drove while Maria sat in the passenger seat typing away on her laptop and I sat in the chair from the desk in the back, now situated between the two of them.
“We have friends there,” Mateo answered.
I raised a brow. “Friends? I’m surprised you even know what that word means, let alone actually have any.”
Maria glanced over at me, sharing a smile.
“Are they other hitmen…like you guys?”
“No.”
“Do you guys know other hitmen?”
“Yes.”
I tilted my head. “What’s with the one-word answers?”
“I’m just not sure how much I should tell you.”
“Because you don’t trust me?”
“No,” he replied quickly, casting a glance at me. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. Adjusting to this lifestyle can be a lot, and I don’t want you to drown in all the changes.”
“I’m fine,” I said, though I wasn’t sure how much I believed it. Even though I’ve had a lot of time to process all that’s happened, it still hasn’t felt real. There was still a small part of me praying I’d wake up and Logan turning on me was nothing more than a nightmare.
“Our handler has about twenty of us under his belt.”
“But, there’s more…around the country?”
“Around the world,” he emphasized. “With different handlers, different jobs, and different skillsets. I could only imagine how many other ghosts are out there walking among us.”
I nodded, unable to imagine it myself. I always thought this line of work was on the smaller scale of crime organizations.
Then again, I was used to seeing crime lords take matters into their own hands. I’d neglected to acknowledge others, specifically ones in power and in the public eye, with skeletons in their closets. God knows how much they’d be willing to pay, to keep their secrets from getting out.
The tall skyscrapers and busy streets of the city stole my attention from the other thoughts lingering in my head. I’ve only been to Baltimore a few times in my life, mostly for business events my mother and stepfather needed to attend.
My mom used to take Isabelle and me to the nearby museums and shopping malls in our downtime.
We’d follow behind her with our hands intertwined, listening as she explained the significance of a painting or the importance of the designer behind a magnificent gown.
It was in those little moments when it felt like my mother valued both of us - like we each had the potential to learn something from her.
It’s been a while since we’ve had one of those. Now, we’d never have a chance at another.
I shoved away the weight threatening to lay on my chest. I was tired of mourning the life I had. Today, I wanted to focus on the one laying ahead of me.
Mateo turned the car in the backlot of a club downtown, and I couldn’t help but wonder what we were doing here in broad daylight.
A man in dark clothing stood in front of the back door, his hands clasped in front of him and an earpiece in his ear. He eyed the van as Mateo parked it in one of the empty spots.
While Mateo stayed put to pull his hood up over his head, retreating into the shadows there, Maria climbed out and walked ahead towards the guard.
Following the clench in my stomach, I climbed out the van and rushed to her side.
The guard’s eyes bounced between us as we approached him. His hands unclasped, and I instinctively grabbed Maria’s hand, ready to tug her out of the way in case he reached for a weapon.
She glanced at me, raising a brow.
Rather than his waistband, the man’s hand wrapped around the knob of the back door and opened it for us.
I let out a breath of relief as I released Maria’s hand.
Smiling, she nudged me with her elbow. “Relax,” she murmured, her voice soft and jagged. “You’re safe here.”
Inside, all the lights of the club were on, allowing a complete view of the interior.
Two long bars sat on both sides of the building.
Small tables with high chairs were scattered around a glossy dance floor.
On the upper level sat velvet U-shaped booths with small circular tables between them.
The scent of alcohol and expensive perfume lingered in the air from the night before.
Maria quickly darted off towards one of the bars where two men stood. Polar opposites of each other, one wore a simple polo shirt and jeans while the other was decked out in a red button down and sleek black slacks.
Hurrying behind her, I watched as she threw her arms around the one wearing a polo shirt and pressed her lips against his.
“Damn,” the other man said, a smile in his green eyes though his mouth was curled in disgust. “You just gonna treat me like a wet food stamp even though I was here first?”
Maria grinned when she pulled out of the kiss. She opened her arms for the other man, but he held up his hand.
“Nah, I don’t want a hug now. You keep the nerd germs to yourself.”
“Fuck you,” Maria’s - boyfriend, I assume - spat, though there was no malice in his voice. He didn’t even spare the other guy a glance. His eyes were fixed on the woman in his arms.
Green eyes went to me, and a charming smile was shot my way. “You must be Simone,” he said. He extended his hand. “I’m Dante.”
My brows pinched as I shook his hand. “How do you…?”
“Oh, Mateo told me all about you. He couldn’t stop going on and on about your pretty brown eyes, killer legs, luscious lips, and ferocious attitude. I’ve never heard a man down so bad.”
Unwanted heat rushed to my cheeks. “He really described me that way?”
Dante began to nod, but Mateo’s voice cut him off.
“Don’t listen to a word out of his mouth,” he said, appearing at my side. “He ain’t nothing but a damn schmoozer.”
“Schmoozer and liar aren’t synonymous, and in this case, I’m definitely one, but not the other.” He tilted his head. “And I thought vampires slept during the day. The fuck you doing out in broad daylight?”
“Don’t start with me when you’re out here looking like a tube of lipstick.”
Dante ran his hands over the top of his auburn hair, slicked back into a puff of tight curls at his neck. “At least I look good. I don’t know if you can say the same.”
“Ignore Dante,” Maria’s boyfriend told me between their bantering. “He specializes in shit-talking.”
I smiled. “I see.”
“I’m Miles, by the way,” he said, offering a wave.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Where’s your wife?” Mateo asked. “Before I whoop your ass.”
“In the back,” Dante said. “Come on, I’ll take you to her.”
Maria stayed back with Miles while Mateo and I followed Dante down the hall towards the back offices.
Dante knocked on one of the doors before pushing it open. “Hey, princess,” he called as he walked inside. “Our guests are here.”
The woman at the desk tore her eyes away from the computer screen and looked up at us. Her mane of dark curls bounced as rose from her seat. “Oh, hi,” she said, a smile spreading across her red frosted lips. She extended her hand as she stepped towards me. “I’m Lexie.”
“Simone,” I replied, thankful for a normal greeting.
“Wow,” she said, her eyes raking over me. “You’re even more beautiful than Mateo described.” She tilted her head. “And you’re with him by free will?”
“Unfortunately.” I looked over my shoulder at Mateo, giving him a teasing smile.
She ran her gaze over me again, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, maybe by the end of the day, we’ll be able to convince you otherwise.”
I blinked a few times, caught off guard by her playfully flirtatious tone. “What do you mean by the-”
“You’re going to spend the day with Lexie,” Mateo explained.
“And we have a full itinerary,” she chimed in. “First, the salon, then the mall, have some lunch, and then probably hop to another mall. It’ll be fun!”
“But I don’t understand,” I said, turning back to Mateo. “Why does this sound like a makeover?”
Lexie and Dante’s smiles fell as they exchanged a look. “We’ll give you two a minute,” Lexie said, reaching for Dante’s hand. “I’ll be near the bar when you’re ready to go,” she added as she towed him out.
I crossed my arms once we were alone and waited for an answer to my question.
“Listen, now that the old you is dead to the world, you’re going to need a new look - a new identity. Lexie is going to help with your physical appearance and Dante and Miles will take care of all the technical stuff.”
“So, by the end of the day, I won’t be Simone Nichols, anymore?”
“You stopped being Simone Nichols the moment the authorities pronounced you dead.”
The fact knocked into my chest like a wrecking ball, destroying the little sliver of peaceful acceptance I’d managed to grasp. I averted my eyes, unable to hide the moisture glazing over my eyes.
Stepping closer, Mateo grabbed my chin and brought my gaze back up to meet his. “I know this is a huge change, and I’m sorry we can’t make the process slower. But, we can’t risk anyone finding out you’re still alive - especially the bastard who tried to kill you.”
“I know,” I murmured. “And I’m fine.”
“You’re not, and you need to realize that’s okay. Set the brave face down. Save it for when you really need it.”
“I’ll try.”
He nodded, understanding that was the best I could do.
I’ve spent so long hiding behind my strength, pretending things didn’t bother me when they did. I didn’t want to be vulnerable. But now, it seems as though I may not have a choice.
I followed Mateo back out to the main hall where the others were waiting.
Lexie met us halfway, offering me a kind smile.
“I’ll see you later,” Mateo murmured, pecking a kiss on my temple.
Lexie led me out through the front entrance where a red Audi was parked near the curb.
She let the music do the talking for us on the ride to the salon.
Her taste was similar to mine; lot’s of R&B with pops of rap and hip hop.
She hummed along to the songs, even shaking her shoulders to ones with a quicker beat.
Watching her, I thought I might like her. She seemed like a woman who commanded attention when she walked into a room without saying a word. Kind of like my mother at one point in time. A model of something I’d once wanted to be someday. Something I could still become.
At the salon, the first order of business was taking my braids down. At least three stylists teamed up on my head, covering every single angle.
I thought Lexie was going to leave while I was in the chair and come back when I was finished, but to my surprise, she perched in the chair beside me and started chatting. She didn’t ask about my previous life or the events that led me to this point. I assumed she already knew all that already.
Instead, she asked about the things I was interested in and shared some of hers. We found common ground in our love for crime shows and thriller novels. She gave me beauty tips for hair and makeup, and I gave her some pointers on combat moves I’d learned in my training classes.
The conversation passed the time it took for the stylists to take down my braids. I hadn’t even thought about what I wanted to do with my hair.
I stared in the mirror after they’d washed and blow dried it.
My hair had always been long, falling to the small of my back in thick, curly tresses.
When I was younger, I practically lived in the salon chair for maintenance to keep it up.
Braids became my go-to when I started working within the FBI.
I didn’t have the time nor the patience to deal with my curls then.
And even if I did, I’d sweat out a style within one work day anyway.
With so much unknown ahead of me, my hair was the last thing I wanted to worry about.
“So, what do you want to do?” The stylist asked, running her fingers through my hair.
“Grab the scissors,” I answered. “I’ll let you know when to stop cutting.”