Occupational Hazards Ch. 01

Still, I had to try.

###

The misting rain was cold on my face as I stepped outside. But it was refreshing. Silent.

She was standing under the awning, which did little to keep the rain off her. She was counting out some bills in her hands, her head down. The wet strands of her hair had fallen across her face, creating a bedraggled, dripping curtain.

"Nikki?"

Her head snapped up. Surprise and then relief seemed to flash across her face in the diluted glow from the streetlamp. "Oh, hello, Ben."

"I'm really sorry I didn't recognize you, Nikki. I hope I didn't hurt your arm."

She shrugged, but her hands clenched, contradicting her attempt to appear indifferent.

"You're soaked. Aren't you cold? We should—"

"I can't go back in there. Not with them." She glanced at the crumpled bills in her left hand.

I pointed toward the parking lot across the street. "I can take you anywhere you want. No charge."

She tilted her head, as if considering that intently. It even appeared that a corner of her mouth tilted up. Whatever she was thinking, she finally said, "Yes, please."

I offered my hand, and she stared at it like it was a foreign object. I refrained from sighing or rolling my eyes and took her gently by the elbow. She kept my pace as we cut a path through the rain, not complaining one bit that there probably wasn't an inch of dry skin on her now.

Once we were both seated inside my car with the heat on full blast, I asked myself if I had made a wise choice. While I knew I was an honorable man, she didn't know that. She didn't know I was also a trained killer. Though I wouldn't harm her, I still felt a little guilty.

So what, we had gone to high school together? So what, she had agreed to go with me now? I couldn't imagine what was going through her head at the moment. Did she think I was a madman, chasing her down in the rain? A hero who'd saved her from her a gang of uncaring twats? God, I hoped she wasn't developing a rescued damsel complex. Then again, maybe I was the one with the complex...practically stalking her for the past hour.

Not to mention, she was a complete stranger to me. Maybe she was psycho herself. Another classmate I had known much better had murdered another girl after graduation, much to everyone's surprise. Why couldn't Nikki Talmadge, a girl I unexpectedly wanted to kiss in spite of her current appearance of a drowned rat, be—

She laughed, startling me. Not exactly an hysterical outburst, but more than a perky giggle.

I felt the corner of my mouth turn up. "What's so funny?"

She shook her head. "More ironic, perhaps. I can explain later. You probably mind me getting your leather seats wet. Are they heated? I'm not going to short out the fancy circuits and fry my ass, will I?"

"No, your ass is fine."

Her breath hitched as she paused in buckling her seatbelt.

I closed my eyes. Filter. Filter. Filter. I tried to backpedal. "Where to, Nikki? The world is your domain."

She shocked me by saying, "You decide. I trust you."

###

My fingers had gripped the wheel tightly as we drove past my apartment building. For the briefest moment, I was tempted to turn into the parking garage. I wasn't one for one-night stands, and I wouldn't have thought she was, either. But something about her...the situation...

I couldn't do it, though. She said she trusted me. Not that she wanted to fuck me.

And honestly, I don't know what came over me to put that thought into my head in the first place. Just like spending the evening getting drunk when I knew I needed to start a new mission in the morning. Maybe Davenport was right. I should have taken a short vacation.

Now seated across from each other in a booth at an all-night diner further up the road, I noticed she was worrying her bottom lip again. Even with her hair and clothes both clingy from the rain, she still looked beautiful. Her bright eyes jumped up to mine as I coughed.

"Are you hungry, Nikki? Thirsty?"

"Coffee, please. And an basket of fries."

"Nothing for me," I smiled up at the waitress and then rested my arms on the tabletop that had been scrubbed so much over the years, the geometric pattern was faded. Much like a lot of my past. I closed my eyes for a brief moment then frowned at Nikki. "I really am sorry."

She brushed off my comment with a weak wave of her hand. Her other hand played with the tines of the fork she'd unraveled from the paper napkin.

"So...how have you been?"

She scoffed, her mouth curling into a slight grimace. "Fine. Dandy. Listen, you don't need to babysit me. I can get a cab from here."

I pursed my lips. Studied her expression. The way her eyes remained downcast but darted side to side. How her mouth contorted from a frown to a slight smile, but only briefly. I couldn't even imagine the jumble of thoughts running through her head. The reason for her change in demeanor.

"If you don't want to stay, I'll take you home. But I'm not going to leave you here, Nikki."

Her eyes locked with mine now. The look I saw there made me flinch. It was mostly fear. I'd seen it too many times to know it was anything but. And like in so many other cases, the dark circles staring back silently pleaded for help. But help from what? Or whom?

I deduced that while she had not seemed to enjoy her evening out with friends, maybe it was better than what awaited her at home. But even her displeasure with her companions had worn on her, and she'd given in to...something. Guilt? Exhaustion? Acceptance that delaying the inevitable did not remove that inevitable end?

Her order arrived then, and she ate in silence. I watched how she held the mug with both hands, apparently warming herself. Every few seconds as she reached out to grab a fry, her hand shook. After ten minutes of this, I sighed.

"Are you okay, Nikki?"

Though she nodded, I still pressed.

"Everything okay at home?"

She pulled her mug closer but nodded again.

"I know we don't know each other well at all, but I can help you if you're in trouble." Easy boy. Don't make promises you can't keep.

She glanced outside and seemed to sniffle as she inhaled. Her exhale was shaky. Then she took a sip of her coffee and pushed the mug away.

"I'm good. Thanks."

I decided to back off. I couldn't force her to accept my help if she didn't want it. And it wasn't like we were going to see each other again. She obviously had changed her mind about spending time with me. So I let her finish her food in the company of the demons battling in her head.

Outside, I held the car door open for her. Cold rain trickled down my neck under my collar, chilling me to the bone. I shivered and hurried over to the driver's side. As I slid into my seat, I saw her turn away and brush her hand at her eyes.

I followed her directions and stopped in front of a little house on a rundown street with most of the streetlights burned out. The house was as dark as the night around it. A bedraggled tree stood sentry in the front yard which was spotted with mud puddles. She actually lived here?

"Do you want me to walk you to the door? Make sure everything's okay?"

"No, Ben. I'm good." Her door was already cracked open, causing the overhead light to turn on. "Thank you for the ride. Goodbye."

Her quick response and exit made me frown as darkness enveloped me again. She feared coming home. Yet she was even more afraid of me being here? Maybe I was off my game and I'd read her entirely wrong.

She shuffled up the broken sidewalk. Appeared to fumble with the front door. A light snapped on inside before she made it through the doorway. A hulking figure stepped into the frame of the curtains on the picture window. Nikki's own silhouette joined it. An arm rose, and I was halfway out of the car before I saw it wrap around her. Guiding her away. Then the window went dark again.

###

If I was not tired before, I was even less inclined to sleep now.

I drove around for awhile after dropping Nikki off. Considered returning to the club. But I found myself pulling into the parking garage under my apartment building. Sitting in the silence with the engine off until the stuffiness of the car and faint, lingering smell of jasmine mixed with rain drove me to get out for fresh air.

After a hot shower, I poured myself a fresh bourbon and plopped down at the dining room table with the stack of yearbooks I'd dug out of a box in my back room. But after three books and a rehashed pile of mixed feelings for not going to any class reunions, I only found the mandatory class photos of Nikki. No clubs. No sports. No extra-curricular activities. All of which was no surprise based on my sketchy memory of her now. But the lack of random pictures with friends that were used to fill up white space made me sad.

When the last book had shown no further insight into this woman who had mysteriously occupied my thoughts, I shoved everything aside. Decided it was best not to dwell on the subject. She had turned down my offer to even provide a listening ear. She was a puzzle I wasn't meant to complete. Time to move on.

I switched my train of thought to work and logged into the agency's encrypted site to review the report of this morning's events. The target had died en route to the hospital from a heart attack. Which wasn't too far from the truth. The paralytic in my syringe gave reason for the need of ambulatory assistance. The emergency team—aka our Beta agents—had then injected Davis with potassium chloride while in transit, causing severe heart arrhythmias. And then they had failed to administer life-saving measures. So in fact, he had died from a heart attack, just sooner than he probably would have given his habit of excessive smoking.

Laptop shut down, I rubbed at my eyes. Contemplated opening the new case file while I nursed my drink. After getting up twice but not making it to my room, I turned the lights back on and ripped off the seal of the folder Davenport had handed me.

###

An hour later found me finally sitting in bed. Staring at the ceiling and breathing heavy. My half-empty glass sat on the nightstand. And all but one page of the folder was strewn on the floor. The last lay face-up on my lap.

My heart told me to cry, which was not a normal reaction for me. In the end, my head won out because my thoughts were filled with anger. Regret for not pressing for more answers when I'd had the chance. And then there was a growing desire to make things right.

I threw back the last of the alcohol in one gulp, grimacing at the sudden potency as I swallowed. At the words burned into my brain from the last paragraph of that page now clutched in my left hand. The ones under the bolded "Family and Relations" heading.

Nikki Talmadge, an office worker at McHenry West High School, was the longtime girlfriend of Hunter Michaels...my next target.

He was a monster of a man, in more than just stature. Known to be physically abusive, although no domestic battery charges had ever been filed against him. No wonder Nikki was hesitant to go home. She was probably scared to death of her boyfriend. But apparently even more so for the truth to be found out. Or at least for him to know someone knew.

The Council had received a tip that Michaels was part of a drug smuggling ring that had produced a lethal form of heroine. So far, it had killed six people under the age of twenty in the past month. They needed a way to bring him—and the ring—down. Two other suspects were being monitored as well. My job was to stay on Hunter. Find a way to infiltrate if possible.

I didn't know if Nikki had any knowledge of her boyfriend's activities. I didn't want her involved if she wasn't already. But my instincts told me that she was my best bet for gaining more information. If only to get close to Hunter.

Which meant she'd have to see me again. Even if I had to force her to.

I prayed she would forgive me.

~H