Page 35 of Carter's #Undoing

“You’ll always be my serenity no matter what the future holds,” he whispered. He chose that moment to slide into me slowly, my breath catching as I widened to accept as much of his dick as I could.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he pushed past the hardest part.

I nodded. “Yes, I’m more than okay.”

Carter studied me a little more, then he began a slow in and out thrust, his grunts proving it was just as mind-blowing to him as it was for me. Did it hurt a little? Yeah. Could I have imagined losing my virginity to anyone else? Not even in my wildest dreams. It was always Carter. No point in convincing myself anyone else ever stood a chance.

Present…

I sighed, my memories reminding me how special every moment had always been between us. Little had I known that a career in the military was exactly what he’d had.And even more mess because of you.I shook off the guilt, and instead, focused on how embarrassed he probably was for me to see he still had pictures of me on his wall, but little did he know I’d slept with a picture of us underneath my pillow up until the day he brought me to this cabin.

As I was walking out of the bedroom, I noticed a box right by the door with my name on it. Even before I picked up the box, my heart was beating a mile a minute for reasons I was unsure of. I sat on the ottoman at the edge of the bed, my hands shaking as I opened the box and pulled out the items that were tied together.

The top item had my name written on an envelope. Shuffling through the rest of the items, I noticed every single envelope had my name on it. I opened the first one and pulled out a letter that was dated sixteen years ago, about a month after Carter left.

My hand flew to my mouth as I realized that the entire box was filled with letters written to me by Carter.

“I wasn't sure how to give it to you,” he said, standing in the doorway.

My hands were still shaking. “How many letters are there?”

He held my eyes. “One for every month you crossed my mind and I couldn’t pick up the phone to call you or see you. Maybe more.”

I glanced down at the box, my voice barely above a whisper when I said, “It looks like hundreds of letters in here.”

He cleared his throat. “I won’t pretend to have counted each one, because I lost count. I won’t act like I remember what I wrote in each one, because sometimes, I missed you so much the letter was only filled with all the hurt and longing I felt. I’m sure you’ll read things you hate. Things you can’t believe. Parts of me that you can’t piece together to fit the Carter you once knew or the Carter you’re getting to know now. But they’re your letters to read and I wanted you to have them.”

When he walked out of his bedroom, I didn’t try to stop him. The letters may have been mine to read, but he’d written every last one of them from a vulnerable place. I knew it in my heart. He didn’t tell me to start reading them now, nor did he tell me if he wanted me to wait. If I did wait, I wasn’t even sure what the future held for us or when I’d have more time than I do now.

So I got comfortable on his bed and started reading the first couple letters. It didn’t take long before I couldn’t keep my emotions at bay, tears falling down my cheeks as I read about Carter’s time in the military and how he’d had to lead a double life working with Rodney and his brother, Kevin. I hadn’t even known who Rodney’s brother was and had never met him.

I read Carter’s recount on the war in Iraq and how many innocent lives he’d had to take. I read how many friends he’d lost in the frontline and the day he met some of his closest friends. In another letter, he talked about this kid he befriended during the war who he later found out had been an enemy carrying a bomb. That letter ended abruptly with no explanation.

The tears kept coming as I read about this boy who you could tell was becoming a man with each obstacle he had to face in life. In some letters, he hadn’t written more than a sentence that said, “Never forget to hold onto your serenity.” I noticed that although these unsent letters were supposed to be to me, they were as much of a letter he’d addressed to himself as well. He probably just hadn’t noticed.

I cried the most when he talked about how much he missed his family but couldn’t return after everything he’d done. It was in those letters that I had to read between the lines, and it took a while to realize that everything he was recounting from the military, including the illegal shit he had to do for Rodney’s brother, was only summaries of what probably really happened.

Colt eventually joined me, and I welcomed his comfort. I didn’t even realize that the sun had set until it got too dark for me to read and I needed to turn on a lamp. I hadn’t seen Carter since he came to the room earlier, and figured I should give him back his space and read in my bedroom instead. I didn’t stop Colt when he followed me and climbed beside me in bed, my mind too wrapped up in the letters to care.

When I got to one paragraph in what felt like the fiftieth letter, I froze.What the …I thought back to Carter’s wall and the photo at the top that was taken that night at the lake by the fireworks. The same night we’d talked about how great he was at hunting.

I swallowed, re-reading the paragraph that I realized was now getting into his time after the war.I guess he really did become a hunter.Except, according to the letter, he didn’t just hunt his enemies in the war. Carter was a contract killer. A man who someone or some group could hire to kill someone else no matter what the criteria. My mouth was dry as I re-read it for a third time.

Dear Serenity,

Sometimes,I feel like I’m in way too deep and I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I keep replaying the decisions I made and the jobs I took, trying to figure out how I went from being your golden boy to one of the top contract killers in the business. Being a sniper in the Army was hard enough, but the shit I’ve been doing since then, the people I’ve killed … The lives lost because of me. The scars I hold from run-ins with some of the meanest muthafuckas in the industry is a list so long, I’d never be able to write down every recount.

And Rodney is a piece of work, and I know if I stop fucking with him and his crew, he’ll come after you. So I gotta tread lightly. I found his human organs donor, and myself and a few others are going to do what we have to and stop one of his biggest suppliers. It won’t stop the entire operation, but it will help ensure some innocent lives aren’t lost.

It will take a while for me to end this deal, but when I do, I’ll find you and keep you safe. Unfortunately, some innocent people will continue to die until then. The crazy thing is, I don’t think destroying Rodney will give me peace. Killing him won’t either. As much as I don’t want to admit it, being a contract killer is a part of me. I’m good at it. I get a certain thrill from it. I can’t say that everyone I’ve come into contact with is pure evil, but for the most part, I choose my jobs carefully now. When I narrow in on a target, I make sure they’ve done some fucked up shit before I pull the trigger.

But sometimes, I think about what you would say when you saw me now. Would you judge me more for what I’ve done? Or more for the fact that I don’t regret all of it? Could you still love me as a contract killer working for both teams? Or would you feel like my moral code is compromised?

Would you believe me if I said the line between good and bad gets blurry for me, but I want to do better? For you, I would do better? When I see you again, I wonder if a part of you will be happy to see me even if a larger part of you is filled with hate.

But more importantly, when you start reading this letter, I wonder if you still know me well enough to know that I left out the most important part until the end. That my biggest fear in all of this has always been losing you. I couldn’t imagine living in a world without you in it whether we be together or not. And when myself and several others who do what I do had gotten contacted about eliminating an immediate threat, I’d been the first to answer the call.

I hadn’t hesitated really. Once again, I knew this person was innocent as I had some others. Only this time, I took the job to protect the woman I love, my face as pale as the day I was born when the threat we’d been informed of said: Serenity Taylor is the target.

All my love,

Your Golden Boy

I droppedmy hand and the letter to the bed, knowing he was standing right outside of my door. Wasn’t sure how I knew, I just did. He knocked twice, but didn’t wait for me to say come in; Colt didn’t so much as lift his head to see Carter enter the room. I saw the guilt written on Carter’s face for waiting all this time to tell me, only for me to read it in a letter.

In answer to his question, I said, “Yes.” The moment I read this letter, I’d instantly known that he was hired to kill me. Not protect me.

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