Page 60 of The Wild Charge

Sixteen

Fox felt like doing something cliché and pathetic, so he bought a bottle of cheap bourbon, and rode out to Walsh’s old place by the railroad tracks. Walsh still owned it, but it sat empty and dark, now; a glimpse through the window revealed drop cloths on the furniture, but the porch was swept clean and the tiny yard mown. Walsh took care of the things he owned.

A sickle moon grinned at him from over the trees, and the breeze held the first promise of fall, streamers of colder air whispering in the porch eaves. A dark, idyllic night, full of katydid calls, the hoots of owls, crowned by an unpolluted sky netted with stars. Neither it nor the bourbon was helping him find any sort of clarity.

Cliché and pathetic had never been his forte.

Walsh’s offered wisdom – and, God, but it pained him to thinkwisdomandWalshin the same sentence – kept echoing through his head on loop. And, yeah, well…maybe he could admit that Walsh might know something more about having an old lady and a kid. But he didn’t know Eden, and he didn’t know a thing about what it was like to be Fox.

He might have second-guessed calling someone in a time zone five hours ahead when it was already after nine in Knoxville, but Abe wasn’t just someone.

After the second ring, his familiar, smoke-scratchy voice said, “Charlie.” He sounded wide awake.

Fox hadn’t been sure exactly what he’d say when he dialed. But Abe had never been the sort of agent that Tenny had been trained up to be – thatDevinhad been trained to be. No charm school or dialect coaches. Abe had been a weapon and a weapon only, more like Reese. Quick, quiet, straight to the point. So Fox tapped cigarette ash onto the porch floor and said, “I knocked Eden up.”

“Hm.” Sound of a lighter, rush of an inhale, exhale. “That’s not like you not to be careful.”

“No.” He shrugged, though Abe couldn’t see him; a persistent tension had been lying across his shoulders since he left Eden’s place. He knew leaving had been a dick move, but staying there, blank-faced and unfeeling, when she was emotional, would have been just as bad, he thought. He had to process first, and then he could go back to her with whatever face, voice, personality best suited the situation. “Guess I just got…comfortable.”

Abe hummed and took a noisy drag. Coughed. “And what’s comfortable look like in your world? What’s that feel like?”

Just like that, he was a kid again, bruises blooming on his arms, nose running from exertion. Abe standing over him, arms folded, calm and unimpressed.What are you hoping to achieve, Charlie? Are you trying to defend yourself? Or are you trying to disable me? Those are two very different things.

The tension spread; shivered out through his chest cavity and laced tight between his ribs. His voice came out steady, unbothered; but he thought, of all people, Abe would be able to hear the note of uncertainty in it. Honesty had always left his belly squirming – but the man who’d taught you how to kill would accept nothing less.

Devin had taught him how to be a chameleon.

Abe had taught him to kill. Killing was always honest.

“I guess I’m supposed to say it’s not having to wear a mask. To not be on an op all the time,” he said. “But, to tell the truth…I’m not sure I’d recognize that feeling. It’s…” He didn’t like hesitating. It wasn’thim. Hadn’t he just been chastising Tenny for this? Trying to steer him in a more human direction?

It was different on the inside. Trying to sort out persona from self. The years of cultivated lies from the real heart of him.

Did he have one? He’d always thought not. But he did feel things. Things that he knew were selfish and personal, and not part of any bigger picture.

Abe made a phlegmy sound on the other end of the line, while Fox took a drag on his own cig, knowing he’d sound like that one day, but not able to kick the habit. One of those selfish, personal decisions at play.

“I like my flat,” Abe said, seemingly apropos of nothing. “I like my old sofa, and my afternoon tea. I like my gym, and I like training soft boys who only want to impress their girlfriends – it’s easier on the old bones these days.” Another drag. “I suppose that’s comfortable. You never really leave the life behind – you’ll still startle in coffeeshops sometimes, and reach for a gun. But. You stop looking over your shoulder all the time. You stop thinking all your neighbors are surveilling you.”

Fox took another drag of his own, nodding to himself. “Yeah.”

“You’ve been comfortable longer than you think. Going soft over there with all the Yanks, doingMC work.” He said it with a derisive snort.

“Hey, now.”

“Oh, come off it. Do you mean to tell me that what you do is like what me and your dad used to do?”

Mention of Devin had him reaching for the bourbon. He didn’t answer. He envisioned Tenny’s nasty sneer, his claims of boredom. Maybe it wasn’t too late to pawn the brat off on Abe.

Abe sighed. “The way I see it, Eden’s got the say in all this. She’s a smart girl – though she did take you back, so, maybe not as smart as I thought–”

“Listen here, old man–”

“She knows what you are, Charlie.” His voice was still rough, but his tone softened; a tone Fox had heard only a few times in his life, one that had him sitting up straight, spine stiff. “She knowswhoyou are. Who youreallyare. I won’t lie and tell you you’ll make a good father. That’s for regular people.”

Fox snorted.

“But you won’t beyourfather. That’s something. Decide what you want, and leave the big decisions up to her. And don’t go to her trying to be what you think she wants you to be. Just be honest.”

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