Page 66 of The Aries Alliance
“Can you help me convince others to join us?”
“Yes. I’ll call you back later today.”
“Sounds good.”
Our plan was officially in motion.
I still hadn’t heard from Scarlett by the end of the night. When I called Val again, she said Scarlett was taking a much-needed vacation and would contact me when she returned. When I pressed for more information, Val was like a broken record, assuring me that Scarlett was okay.
Still feeling defeated, I moved to my home gym and beat the punching bag hanging on a hook from my ceiling.
“Protect the wounded. Heal the sick.” I repeated that mantra ten times.
As gloves hit the bag, I pictured the faces of each person who tried to take Scarlett down.
Judy’s lopsided bob.Punch.
Gayle’s watery eyes.Punch.
Skip’s narcoleptic ass.Punch.
The professor who kissed on my mother.Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.
I hit the bag so hard it swung like a feather. As sweat dripped from my shirtless torso like a waterfall, I banged my boxing gloves together and shouted so loud, the noise rattled several empty bottles on the floor.
After a quick shower, I opened my laptop and positioned myself for the hell that was about to break loose. When I sent emails and files to my five media contacts—one at the newspaper, two at news stations in the city, and two working at nationally syndicated news stations—I closed my laptop and said a silent prayer. Within thirty minutes, every person on my list confirmed that everything was ready to go.
Louder Than Words
If one more media contact asked mefor a comment, I was going to scream. Where were their trifling asses when I needed a mouthpiece?
I finally uninstalled my email app from my phone, as person after person harassed me over the next couple of weeks, saying I should resign and stop being such a nuisance to EFU. Although I originally planned to rendezvous in Cancun for a week, I staycated instead.
Despite my request for War not to contact me, he sent a private message every morning via social media. At first, his messages were short and to the point. Four days after the mediahoopla, they became increasingly warm with cute GIFs and videos that made me smile. Today, he sent his warmest text yet.
War:
Your haven says hello. They’re well and ready. I miss you, Harriett.
He sent a selfie where he stood next to a striking statue of Harriett Tubman. I dialed his number on the burner phone. He answered immediately.
“All it took was a picture with Harriett Tubman for you to contact me?” He chuckled, his voice low and sensual, reminding me how much I missed everything about War.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“In Binghamton, New York, last week for a conference. I thought of you when I saw that statue.”
Heat radiated through my chest.
“Thanks, War. How have you been?”
As much as I wanted to close myself off to War, I couldn’t. I had a lot of time to think over the past few weeks. It wasn’t his fault that he worked in such an awful place and held a position that made him an enemy to so many. We were both products of an environment that pitted us against each other. It was up to us not to fall into EFU’s trap.
“Keeping my head down. I hope you haven’t abandoned our mission.”
War’s gentle words made me smile.
“Never. I may be knocked down, but I’m never defeated.”
