Page 11 of Trapped
“You don’t need to call me sir,” John said. “Have a seat.”
“Everyone contributes to the fund, so the new guy doesn’t go broke,” Jack said.
“And we get a discount, being family and all,” Jamie added, with a grin.
“Good to know.” I knew why I was there, so I didn’t wait for John to call me out. “I’m sorry about what happened at Grannie’s”
“Mary accepted your apology, so we’re good,” John said.
“That’s not why you’re here,” Jamie said.
“Ashley.” I guessed.
“Yes, we don’t need to know the details of your history with her,” Jamie said.
“But we need to know if it’ll be an issue,” Jack finished.
I had a feeling they’d heard about Vegas long before now; they just never knew it was me.
I should’ve moved to a big city where I could disappear in the crowd.
Applying to a small family business had seemed like a good idea. Now I wasn’t so sure. SSI was at the opposite end of the spectrum from Hawken’s, which was what I wanted.
High-risk civilian black ops was the perfect job for someone who wanted to keep operating but no longer serve in the military. Guys like me, who loved serving but hated the bullshit. But after Vegas, I couldn’t do it anymore.
“It won’t be a problem,” I said. I wasn’t sure it was true, but if it was and I had to leave, I’d manage. My skills and experience meant that finding another job would be easy. Or I could say, fuck it and start my own company.
“Good, because Ashley’s family,” Jamie said.
That close? Thank God my resume was impressive because I’d probably have to look sooner rather than later.Unless I can convince Ashley to forgive me.
“Anything you want to share?” John asked.
I forced myself to release the death grip I had on my coffee before I squeezed it too much and made a mess.
“No, sir,” I said. Looking John in the eye, I continued, “What happened is between Ashley and me.”
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?” Jack asked. I sensed he wanted to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work.
“I wish,” I meant to whisper, but from the identical grins on their nodding faces I knew I’d said it too loud.
They wouldn’t hear the story from me, but they’d hear about it from their wives.Hell, they already know, they just don’t realize it.Ashley didn’t strike me as the keep-it-to-herself type.
I could only imagine the colorful language she’d used as she cursed my name.
When she calle me Casper the Fucking Dickheaded Ghost, it hadn’t sounded spontaneous.
What happened between Ashley and me wasn’t the only thing I wanted staying in Vegas.
When I interviewed, I explained the scar by saying I’d gotten into a knife fight.Not a lie. I got the expected “I hope the other guy looks worse” remark and gave the appropriate “He’s dead” response.
They knew it happened during my last op with Hawken’s, but I didn’t tell them my cover was blown or that the fight happened during my escape from the Perpura brothers, Tommy and Al, who trafficked weapons—high-value, military-grade weapons of war—to the highest bidder, foreign or domestic.
After two weeks of torture, I stopped fighting and acted like I’d given up. I convinced them I was no longer an escape risk, so when Tommy unhooked me from the ceiling winch, he was alone and unprepared.
The instant he turned his back, I strangled him with the heavy steel chain connecting the shackles on my wrists.
I made quick work of finding the keys to unlock my shackles. Unfortunately, I hadn’t finished the job and Tommy regained consciousness, attacking me with a knife.
