Page 61 of Bad Enough

He paused.

“I know you can’t tell me specifics. And I’m a big girl, TB; I won’t run screaming from whatever so-called terrible things you’ve done.”

“I was recruited because I’m an ‘Information Specialist.’ Prior to working for Tribe, if you had something you wanted, I could get it. That might mean a client would want me to question someone, put pressure on someone to do something, retrieve someone or something for them, or even make someone or something disappear. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

He watched her try to process what he was telling her. “You’re saying that you’ve been an interrogator, you’ve hurt people, you’ve kidnapped people, even killed people.”

“Yes. And it didn’t matter why they wanted it. In fact, I always told them I didn’t want to know. As long as they could meet my price, it didn’t matter.”

She turned in his arms and tilted her head to one side as she considered his explanation. “If you were ashamed of what you did, why did you keep doing it?”

He kept hold of her hand, but he leaned back a bit straighter at her words. “I’m not ashamed of what I did. Of what I still do, Flame. That’s still my job with Tribe. I just don’t make the choices of which projects anymore. That’s God’s and Waters’ job now.”

“But you are ashamed of it, TB.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You said it yourself. You told them you didn’t want to know why. If you knew why you were doing it, then you probably wouldn’t have taken some of those jobs.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you understand exactly how awful my job was. Is.”

“I understand, TB. I think the misunderstanding is with you. I think you believe that I’m this naive girl who has no concept of the evil in the world because I’ve shut myself away in this beautiful, old house. I have all these lovely things that are nostalgic to other times mixed with the modern day, and you see someone who has a romanticized vision of what the world is. And I know for a fact that you believe my head is filled with romantic nonsense about love and relationships because of what I do for a living. But nothing could be farther from the truth.”

Surprised by her words, TB didn’t fight her when she pulled herself from his grip and crossed to the patio door. After sliding it open, she turned her head to look at him. “I write happily ever after stories where people seek the greatest prize of all—love—because I’m more than aware of the evil in this world, TB. For it is love that has the power to raise us to our greatest heights or to lower us to our farthest depths.

“I’ve seen evil up close, and it is ugly because it lives in the people who sometimes we should trust the most.” She looked to the interior of her house. “It’s part of why I love roses. Not because they are the iconic representation of love but because while the roses are beautiful and fragrant, the thorns beneath are sharp and dangerous. That way, I’m always reminded of what lurks beneath the surface.” She looked back to TB. “I choose to see the beauty in the world, not take it for granted. I work to create more beauty. And if you’d read my stories, you’d see that there is great evil lurking, waiting to disrupt the unsuspecting characters. Like in life, if they are worthy, they fight their way through. If they are unworthy, they perish.

“You’re still here, TB. You’re worthy of whatever prize you seek.”

With that, she stepped through the patio door, sliding it closed behind her. He sat there in the dark, an arm stretched out along the swing back, thinking about what she had said.

Is she right? What I want is her. There’s no denying it now. Am I worthy? If not, can I make myself worthy?

Thirty minutes later, he still didn’t have an answer to that question.

He got up off the swing and went inside after her, disposing of the ice cream container in the trash. He rinsed off the two spoons, put them in the dishwasher, and stood looking out the window above her sink.

Something wasn’t jiving. Something she’d said triggered his brain, but he couldn’t figure out which word or sentence or thought was bothering him. Maybe if he studied her file some more, it would pop out at him. But there was definitely something about Sylvan Jones that was not adding up.

Up in his room, he went back to the top page of her file and began reading again. Meanwhile, the distant clicking on the keys of Sylvan’s computer as she typed away at her novel in the dead of night reassured him that physically, at least, all was well in the household.

22

JUNE 16TH

Sylvan

Her phone began to ring. A glance at the clock told her it was just after midnight. There was only one person who would be calling her at this hour of the morning.

Ugh. Kai. I don’t want to do this right now.

While being best friends with someone meant you held nothing back, Sylvan was feeling far too raw after the day she’d just had. However, she knew that ignoring Kai’s call would not save her from explanations and recriminations for holding out on the bestie code. Kai would just keep calling. And if she turned off her phone, Kai would just drive over.

Perhaps it will be easier to lie to her if she can’t see my face?

No, Kai always knew. Didn’t matter if they were face-to-face or ear-to-ear, Kai knew when she was fibbing. She couldn’t even get anything past the woman through text or email.

She put her phone on speaker. “Hello, Kai. How are you?”

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