Page 12 of Liv Parrish

“Nothing! Heath was just leaving.” She doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes fixed on the door instead. Ren, on the other hand, stares at me as if my intentions are printed in hieroglyphics on my face and she’s trying to decipher them. Fuck, I need to know why Liv is so upset, but it’s obvious I’m not going to get any answers from her tonight, so I say my goodbyes and walk out of the apartment, even though I can see Ren is not ready to let me leave, but concern for her friend keeps her from stopping me.

The time spent in my car driving to my place does not lessen my concern for the situation I’ve inadvertently created. I know I’m not going to get any peace of mind until I get answers, so I call Riley.

“Hey, ‘sup?” His usual greeting.

“Hey, man, are you busy?” It’s always best to check, especially with his social life.

“Nah, just got home from the gym. What’s going on?” Deciding not to mince words, I get to the point.

“Have you ever asked Liv about Austin?” Riley doesn’t hesitate.

“Only once, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. Anytime conversation steers towards her past, she changes the subject. Why?”

“Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“Not particularly. Not everyone had the idyllic childhood you did, bro. And she’s pretty private in general so I just go with it.”

“My childhood wasn’t idyllic.” Upper middleclass parents who provided everything I needed, two siblings to keep me grounded and good friends to get me through the rough parts. Yeah okay, maybe he has a point.

“You know what I mean, man.”

“And you were never tempted to find out for yourself?” With all the recourses at his fingertips I find it hard to believe he never checked.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one who said you didn’t want us looking into her background? Besides, she’s a friend now. I wouldn’t do that to her. She’ll open up in her own time, or not. That’s up to her, and we have to respect that.”

“Yeah, I hear you, but it’s hard. I just came from her place now. We talked for a while, but the moment I mentioned Austin she shut down on me. Practically threw me out of her apartment. I know I fucked up, and I have no idea how to fix this so we can move forward.”

“Wow, is it snowing outside?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re coming to me for relationship advice. That is what’s happening here, right? Not Aaron, or Mike who’s married and actually knows a thing or two about having a solid relationship, but the guy who screws anything with a pulse?” Yeah, I knew I was going to pay for that comment.

“I’m coming to you because you know her better and I was hoping you wouldn’t be a dick about it. Obviously, I was wrong.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your boxers in a bunch. Give me a second, let me think.” I do as he asks, pacing around in my living room like a caged tiger. “You have to talk to her.” I wait a few seconds, waiting for him to continue but get nothing.

“That’s it? That’s your stellar advice?”

“Yes, be honest. Don’t give her any bullshit and do it soon. Don’t give her a chance to pull away and convince herself she needs to guard herself around you. But don’t pressure her either. She needs to know that she can trust you.” I drop my hand to stare at my phone for a moment before raising it to my ear again.

“So, what I’m hearing is I need to talk to her soon, but I also have to give her space, but not too much. Christ! How do these things get so complicated?” He chuckles at this.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. And I’ll put in a good word for you too.”

“I appreciate that, but I don’t want you in the middle of this. I’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, I know you’ll do the right thing.”

“Thanks, man. Now go take a shower. You must reek by now.” He laughs again and then hangs up, no goodbye or even a return shot. Just dead air. I know he’s right and his advice is sound. I have to stop myself from going to her right now; that would be like returning to the scene of a crime. No good will come of it. I need to plan and make sure there is no chance that she will slam the door in my face when I see her again. And I am going to see her again. This is not the end of our story. I only just found her again and this is that difficult part all couples have to go through before they can have their happy ending. I’m more convinced of that than ever before.

Thoughts of her stay with me, tormenting me, the way she looked when she opened the door to me earlier, her scent that hung around her as she sat on the sofa next to me, her eyes darting all over the room, never lingering on me for more than a few seconds at a time. Did I really make her that uncomfortable? I try to push the frustration that thought causes aside. All I want to do is take her in my arms and reassure her that my intentions toward her are pure, honorable. God, I sound like a nineteenth century suitor planning his courtship, but something about that appeals to me. Liv deserves to be cherished, treated with respect and most of all loved unconditionally. Seeing her today reaffirmed that. I know it’s soon, but when you know, you know. I knew it after that first night and did nothing about it. I’m not making that mistake a second time.

Unfortunately, there is no pause button on life, so even though I have a framework for the plan I want to set in motion, work soon consumes almost every minute of my day. Our investigations have led us to a Russian syndicate closely aligned with the organization I infiltrated. They’ve been operating in the city for years but use a warehouse in an old section of the waterfront to conduct their business, which gives them easy access to transport to disappear if the need arises. They have their fingers in just about every illegal pie, everything from drugs and arms to human trafficking, specifically young women and minors. True scum of the earth, and it’s going to be a pleasure putting them down, but it’s going to take every ounce of our skills and training. Going undercover is not going to be an option this time as none of us could pass for Russian and this syndicate is so close knit and secretive, there’s no way they are going to let a stranger into their ranks. We also don’t have the time to cultivate any relationships the way we would if we had the resources as we’ll need to move quickly once all the pieces are in place. It may be time to call in outside help. We team up with the Feds from time to time, usually at their request not ours, but this time we might not have a choice. Fortunately, we have options and know people who could be allies in this fight. One name immediately comes to mind, but he’s been off the grid for almost a year, apparently working some deep cover case for the FBI. We served together and besides being a good friend, he is one of the few people outside of Fortress we trust implicitly. Riley started putting feelers out as soon as we realized Wyatt could be the asset we need, and we are hoping to make contact soon. Time is of the essence and the sooner we can complete this operation, the better for everyone involved, not to mention this city that has seen more than its fair share of crime, violence and despair.

It didn’t take long for Wyatt to reach out. Aaron and I are sitting at a small table in the back of a dive bar so far off the beaten track you couldn’t find it on a map, and there’s barely enough lighting to make out who’s sitting across the table from you. Only a few patrons are scattered around, practicing the fine art of not making eye contact, lest someone takes offense, and you end up paying for the mistake with your life, which seems entirely possible. The place makes me uncomfortable, edgy and, to make matters worse, Wyatt is late. I suppose it’s to be expected with the precautions he needs to take before meeting us, but I would love to get this conversation out of the way so that we can leave. A waitress stops by our table to deposit our third round of watered-down beers when the man of the hour suddenly drops in the chair beside mine, still as stealthy as ever. Bastard. He nods at her, and she smiles back before walking off without saying a word. Aaron doesn’t waste any time.

“You’re late.” Wyatt stares at him for a few seconds before raising his hands, showing knuckles that are swollen and the skin torn and bloody.

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