Page 6 of Sink With Me

When the doors open, I’m surrounded by white. Squinting against the bright light casting through every window which surrounds the open room, decorated with exquisite milky furniture and statues that should be held in a museum.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Cordi!”

I flinch from the voice reverberating in the vast, lifeless space.

For one, I hate that nickname and for two, he sounds far too happy. I turn toward his voice, clasping my hands behind my back and straightening my shoulders.

“How’re you, Mr. Dutton?” I reply in return, trying to do the respectful thing and at least share his newfound happiness even if my voice is the definition of monotone.

I am the perfect soldier.

I catch a whiff of pizza and find myself inching towards the greasy smell coming from the large white marble bar. It’s the only spot in the entire office that doesn’t have a window behind it. Typically, the back is occupied by James as he spends his day pouring glasses of wine or scotch for any of Dutton’s visitors, but this time, it’s empty.

My fingers hook under the box lid, my tan contrasting drastically against the marble beneath. The beautiful sight of pineapples and ham layered above mozzarella has my mouth watering. I may hold a passionate dislike for pizza, but Hawaiian is one I can’t turn away no matter how hard I try.

“Figured you were hungry. Eat as much as you want. I have exciting news!” His hands clap, a piercing sound which makes me hyper conscious of how close he is standing behind me. The hairs on my neck raise as I shift to keep an eye on him out of my peripherals. I’m always aware of my surroundings, well almost always, that day was an exception. Yet right now, I’m more aware than ever.

I gingerly grab a piece, feeling the heat warm my skin. It’s as if I’ve been starving for days. Living on a soldier’s diet always gives you enough to satiate the ache in your stomach, but never enough to be fully satisfied.

The high-pitched laugh goes unnoticed as soon as I take a bite and let my tastebuds ignite, the sweet and salty mingle and transport me back to being a kid sitting in my mother’s office after a day of ‘working’ with her. Even though I never really worked, I drew stick figures under rainbows while my mom handled the ‘hard stuff’, as she’d call it. Dutton, being the good friend he was, always magically seemed to appear as soon as our stomachs started rumbling.

“Well?” I prod, doing my best to seem as polite as possible, even though my body is begging me to just plop down on the floor and finish the box without interruption.

His gray eyes gleam with amusement, mirroring the shine of each medal that adorns his navy-blue jacket. Everything about him screams power and it makes me realize that I can’t hold the confidence he does in his shoulders or draw in a room with the boom of my voice. I guess some people are made for fancy titles and others, for the field. I don’t remember the last time I saw him in combat, let alone the training grounds, but his physique is square and chiseled, overly healthy for a sixty-something year old man. His hair is lighter than it was four years ago when we started, but there’s not a spec of gray. I’ve concluded he dyes it because there’s no chance he can be under this much stress and the only visible reflection of it is the slight worry lines on his forehead.

“I know the last two men you visited weren’t what we were hoping for, but I think we have a solid lead this time. I know you just got back, so I won’t rush you out—"

My eyes roll. I know it’s disrespectful. After all, I do report to him, but how many times have we heard that we have a solid lead? We never do. It's like fishing in barren waters without a hook.

Dutton steps forward and I step back out of instinct. If he's close, then I've done something wrong. The smell of his high-end cologne overpowering the pizza isn’t mingling well in my senses and my tongue cements itself to the roof of my mouth, refusing to let the bite go down my throat.

Another step. The back of my hips hit the marble, and my heart starts to race. I hate it when he gets close.

“I’m sending you with a team this time.”

That’s the perfect thing to get me intrigued. The best team I’ve ever gotten is Karma in my ear. Dutton always says someone with my skill set doesn’t need others hauling them down, but I think that’s a shitty excuse since he’s already keeping me under the radar.

“Sounds important then.” I say, setting my half-eaten slice back in the box and making my way towards the front of his office, trying desperately to gain some space. The ungodly city continues to move below. Each honk of a horn or ding of a shop’s bell is loud enough to hear from up here. So many bodies swarm the streets, you can’t see the pavement anymore.

I place my palm against the glass, but the beaming sun doesn’t heat my hand. Lifeless. It’s easy to forget how high up this space is until you glance down. The sight is enough to make my stomach knot better than a boy scouts rope.

“Very important.” Dutton's voice drops to a husky whisper, breaking me from my thoughts. Carefully, I face him again, my hands returning to the familiar position of the tight clasp behind my back, concealing the fidgeting of my thumbs. “You’ll be infiltrating Depth. Or drawing out their leader, Tide. Whichever comes first.”

My brows shoot so high they almost touch my hairline. Everything goes still besides my rapid breathing and uneven heart rate. I’ve been waiting for this moment. The first time I saw him was by chance and I’d never told a soul, not even Karma. I don’t know why I kept it to myself, but maybe, just maybe, I had some hope that this would all end easily. Of course, either way, he was going to end up dead at my feet, but it’d be clean. I gave him his warning, and he didn’t heed it. Now I guess I needed to finish what his precious daddy started.

I force a nod. There’d be another time to dwell on the deep green eyes that haunt my dreams. I’m one step closer. The end of the war now brushing against my fingertips. I don’t want fame or glory; Dutton can have that. I just want to make my parents proud, get revenge for them, and take back whatever normal life I might attain after everything I’ve done.

“Just give me the details and I’ll do my best.” I say. His lips curl into a grin, peaking just enough of the unnaturally over-white teeth that lay beneath.

“I’ll have Karma walk you through it.” His features harden as his smile dies. Obviously watching someone grow up means personal boundaries don’t apply, because suddenly I’m caged against the glass. His hands resting on either side of my head, biting back a gag as his breath fans across my face, even though there is still space between us it’s a hell of a lot closer than I ever want to be with him. He does realize I can kill him in a heartbeat, right? His lips get dangerously close to my ear, his voice threateningly low.

“Your parents would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

I stare him in the eye, my heart beating so hard I can feel my neck pulsate. Then I think of him. That droplet of blood.

Suddenly, as if nothing ever happened, Dutton backs away, sliding like the businessman he is into his swiveling leather chair behind his matching marble desk. My lungs fill with air again, adrenaline urging my body to move in hurried steps towards the elevator, just before skidding my worn combat boots against the sleek tile floors, turning to grab the pizza box then heading to my exit wanting nothing more than to smell the fresh air, eat without interruption, and wonder if that green will drain from Tides eyes when his life drains from his body.

The elevator dings. I step in.

---