Page 4 of Desolation

Mark turns to me. “Tell me your background. Specialties? Weaknesses?”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “I joined the Navy at eighteen looking for an escape. I was a shithead. I goofed off. I almost got kicked out. But after two years I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere if I didn’t try. I thought being in the Navy would get me laid and give me an easy life. It took me two years to realize I was wrong. I needed to make a change in my life. I made it a mission to become a SEAL. I worked my ass off. I slept four hours a night. I used every extra minute I could find to train to get into BUDs. After that, I dedicated my entire life to the SEALs. I was a machine. I wanted to be the best so I became the best.

“I’m a highly skilled sniper. I specialize in advanced demolition. I am highly trained in hand to hand combat, taking every extra course I could to become the best. I was most acclaimed in surveillance throughout all of SEAL team 3. I learned interrogation, torture, manipulation. Need I continue? I was the best there was. As for weaknesses? I don’t have many. Women and beer.”

A scowl forms on Jackson’s face at the same time Mark starts cracking up. “Told you he was perfect for the team, Muff.”

I tense at the sound of Jackson’s chair scraping along the floor right before leaning far over the table and getting in my face. “There is only so much room for cocky attitudes in this building and there are plenty of them so you can wipe that grin off your face. We want you on this team but it won’t be easy. You won’t just get to let things fly past you. It’s hard work. We do everything here. You don’t have one categorized job. You need to be able to do it all. Luckily, Mark thinks you are what we need here. Me, not so much. You’ll need to prove yourself, kid.”

Jackson is still towering over me and my glance flits over to Mark before landing on Jackson’s brooding face. “So I got the job?”

Jackson stands tall and walks toward the door. “Monday, nine a.m. Don’t be late. Twilight won’t be here to save your ass.” The door slams shut behind him.

Mark starts laughing. “Well, that went well.”

I look at him quizzically. “That was well?”

“Muffin has his panties in a twist. I bet you anything Kitty is holding back sex from him and he’s flustered as hell.” Mark stands from his chair and gestures me toward the door. “Don’t worry about him. He’s usually a cuddly teddy bear. But congrats. You are exactly what we need. And who cares if you’re cocky. He is just worried you are going to step on his toes and everyone will like you more. Which won’t be hard to do anyway.”

I follow Mark out the door and walk to reception with him. “I take it you don’t work in this office.”

“Unfortunately, no. I am out in Virginia. But I come here every now and then. Like for interviews.”

“I thought Jackson was ready for an interrogation.”

Mark throws his head back laughing as he slaps me on the shoulder. “That’s why I came here. To keep it from being one. He’s not really a people person.”

“I could tell.”

Mark shakes my hand. “Best of luck, Landon. I’m sure I’ll talk with you soon.”

“Thanks Mark. I am happy to be a part of the team.”

I start to walk out the door but Mark shouts after me. “By the way, what’s your call sign?”

“Stud.”

Mark laughs out loud. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Chapter Two

Mari

I wipe the water from my face with a towel and look in the mirror. I can’t believe this is what’s become of my life. I was happy for so long. At least I thought I was. I had the perfect life. I was able to do what I loved. I had the man of my dreams. We have two adorable children that own my heart.

But here I am standing in the bathroom of a women’s shelter with dyed hair and a broken soul. I am trying to get by but every day is harder than the next. I want to go home. I want to hold my baby girls and let them know Mama’s okay.

My first choice wasn’t a shelter. But the friend I came out here to see, the one who could help me, isn’t around. Mistake number one, I should have checked on that first. But I needed to get out of Boston. For the last month I have felt like I was being followed. I am probably losing my mind.

I could have stayed at a hotel but my fear of being followed got the best of me. So I stayed at a shelter. My beat up face was an easy way to get me in. Even if it wasn’t the plan from the start.

I slather a layer of moisturizer on my face before giving myself the pep talk I need to continue what I am doing. I take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom toward my room.

“Hey Chiquita.”

I look behind me and see Rochelle slowly jogging to meet up with me. I’ve been in this place for over a week and I try to avoid everyone at all costs. It’s not that I don’t want a friend to talk to. God, I need one more than anything. But I don’t want to be recognized. I don’t want anyone to discover who I am. Luckily, my cousin broke my nose pretty good that it has a slight bend to it from the way it healed.

“Marianne, slow down,” I hear Rochelle say as I make my way to my room. “Girl, where’s the fire? Slow down!”

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