Kissing Fire (2 page)

“I know you love to do this, but I’m trying to shed
some of this weight I’ve gained. I need to get back into my
clothes,” I protested.

“Ack! You girls like to be too skinny these days.”
She sounded like Melissa.

“This girl just wants to get into her clothes!”

I wandered into the den, where I’d hoped my parents
would be but they weren’t. Betty followed me and said, “Check the
side terrace. They’re probably having a glass of wine out
there.”

Sure enough, that’s exactly where they were.

“Hey,” I said as I walked through the doors.

“Hey! We didn’t know you were coming,” my mom
said.

“Surprise!” I sort of did a little head bob thingy,
trying to be funny. They didn’t get it. Okay. Time to spill it. “I
wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh? Is everything okay? Are you in love?” my mom
asked.

Ugh. It’s what she always wanted to know. It was the
number one topic on her mind...whether or not her daughter was in
love. I knew she meant well, but it drove me batty. Maybe if she
knew about Little Dickie, she’d stop.

Smiling, I said, “No Mom, but I’ve got some really
exciting news I wanted to share. I’ve taken a job promotion.”

“That’s great honey. Congratulations.” She sounded
as excited as she did when she was waiting for water to boil.

“Thanks!” She always said I’d be sorry for leaving
MedSoft, one of the companies that the Middleton’s owned. An
opportunity with another national software company had opened up
and I grabbed it. She didn’t think it was a good idea at the time.
So now, here I was, telling her of my new job opportunity.

“So, when do you start?”

“Well, Mom and Dad, here’s the thing. I’ve already
accepted the position. I’m meeting my new boss the day after
tomorrow.

“That’s great honey.”

“And I’ll also be looking for a place to live.”

“Why do you need to do that?” Mom asked.

“Because I’ll be moving to Seattle.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop; and then came the
nuclear explosion.

“You accepted a position in Seattle and you didn’t
discuss it with us first?” my mom screeched.

“No Mom, I didn’t. You do realize that I’m an adult
and I have to make my own decisions regarding my career, don’t
you?”

She glared at me before saying, “Avery Susan
Middleton, don’t you dare ask me questions like that. Of course I
know that. But you know good and well that you normally discuss
these kinds of things with us.”

“Well, I didn’t this time because there wasn’t
anything to discuss. My mind was made up. I want to leave
Charleston and make a brand new start somewhere. This job came up
and opened that door for me.”

Then came the wailing. Oh my God, the floodgates
opened and I may as well have started building my arc. She went on
and on. Talk about drama. My mother was the queen of all things
drama. When my brother Justin had moved, you’d have thought the
world had ended.

Now there was a story. Justin’s fiancé had died when
her car had exploded. It was a horrible tragedy that Justin could
never get over, so he moved away from Charleston to make a new life
for himself. My mom, instead of saying, “Justin, you go and have a
wonderful life,” worried more about herself. It was all because she
was the first mother who had a son to move across the country. Oh
brother, help me now.

My mom had yet to go and visit him. He didn’t want
to come back here, for obvious reasons. And then, he was lucky
enough to meet someone whom he fell in love with. They ran off and
got married and my mom was actually pissed she didn’t get an
invitation to the wedding. Well, I said it then and I’ll say it
forever--get over yourself already Mom. My mom had gotten so
self-centered in her older age. She needed to get a job or
something.

“In any case Mom, I’m sorry you’re not excited for
me. I’m getting an opportunity of a lifetime and I thought I’d snap
it up. I leave on Wednesday. I need to find an apartment and I’ll
stop by to visit Justin of course.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet. You’ll get to meet his new
bride,” she added sarcastically.

“Yeah, I am excited about that. But, more
importantly, I’m really happy for him. I hope she makes him as
happy as Terri did.”

“Honey, congratulations.” It was the first time my
dad spoke.

“Thank you Daddy.”

He stood up and hugged me tight. “Will you stay and
eat with us?”

“Naw, I gotta go and start getting things in
order.”

“I understand. If you need us to do anything, just
let us know. We love you honey and call us when you get there.”

“Okay Daddy.”

I loved that man. I loved my mom too, but she could
be difficult at times.

I ran inside and headed upstairs to say good bye to
Avery, my grandmother and namesake. She was a character this one.
Ornery as all get out and proud of it too. I knocked on her door
and then I heard her say, “You better either be brave as hell or
have something really important to have awakened this old coot from
her nap.”

I just laughed.

I opened the door and walked in.

“Little Avery. Why you come here little girl.” I ran
to her and kissed her cheek.

“Your mama is complaining all the time ‘bout your
weight, but honey, it sure gives you all the curves in all the
right places. I believe it makes you look hot, child.”

“Grandma! I can’t believe you!”

“Why? ‘Cause I speak the truth?”

“Partially. I guess I’m jealous.”

“Well, one day when you’re old and you have
grandchildren, you’ll be able to do the same.” She let out a hearty
laugh. “So, what did you come here to tell me?”

I told her about moving and she was as happy as
could be for me.

“I was happy for Justin and I’m happy for you. No
one ever said you have to stay here. You haven’t been happy in a
while, so I hope this brings you exactly what you’re searching for
honey!”

“I knew I could count on you Grandma. Will you come
and visit me?”

“You know I will as long as you don’t take me
anywhere I have to wear a damn bikini! Well, unless there are hot
men around for me.”

“Okay Gran! I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go on and be safe. But Avery,
you find happiness and have some fun honey. Life’s too short not to
have fun, child.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She always had a knack for making me feel
better.

Chapter 2

Preston

Bangkok...3 months earlier

I had to get out of this hell hole. Bangkok in the
middle of the summer was the worst place in the world. Ninety
degrees and surrounded by eight million people wasn’t my idea of
fun. I’d been here for three weeks now and my job was almost done.
There were about three contacts here which could connect me to one
of the largest heroin traffickers. I was undercover and getting
information from them. They didn’t know I was a DEA agent. I had
finagled my way in with one of them and was pretty close to busting
in with the second. If I could get close to the other one and find
out who their main supplier was, I could get out of here and head
back to the states.

The only reason I’d accepted this
assignment was my life had been threatened and I was a huge target
if I’d stayed in the US. I’d infiltrated one of the largest Mexican
drug cartels and brought it down, with the help of my sister, and
now they were after my ass. Well,
they
weren’t because all the big
players were either six feet under, (having been gunned down in
Mexico) or in prison in the US. It was one of the other cartels
that wanted me now. They didn’t like a rat and I was a rather large
and ubiquitous one. I just wouldn’t go away.

Luckily, my sister Terri Mitchell had gone under
cover in the witness protection program and was now Caroline Cole
Middleton. She’d finally gotten to marry the love of her life,
Justin Middleton and they were currently living their happily ever
after in Seattle. We had orchestrated her death in Charleston, so
everyone, including Justin’s family believed Terri had died in a
car bombing. Happily, she hadn’t, and was now living as Caroline
Middleton. She’d undergone plastic surgery and had changed her
identity.

I needed to pay them a visit soon so I could give
them their wedding pictures. They snuck off and gotten married in
Big Sur and I went to their wedding, but they didn’t know I’d been
there. I had “borrowed” the disc from their photographer. My sister
hadn’t been thinking when she’d hired one for her secret wedding.
Those damn photographers had a nasty habit of posting their work
all over the internet. We couldn’t have Caroline’s cover blown by
one small mistake like that.

Once I finished here, I’d hopscotch my way back
home. Well, there really wasn’t anywhere I’d call home. I had a
place in Montana, a cabin that no one but a few select people knew
about. It was loaded with high security measures so it was “safe.”
It was one of the few places I could relax when the need arose.

I looked around the bar I was in, making sure there
was an escape route if I needed one, which I usually did. There was
hardly a transaction that took place anymore where a slip out the
back wasn’t necessary. Usually, I had to head up a flight of stairs
and exit from the roof tops. This place was loaded with women.
Damn, it’d been a long time since I’d been with a woman. I normally
didn’t allow my thoughts to wander there, but this was Thailand
after all, home of the some of the most talented prostitutes. Maybe
later...

I knew exactly when he left. I didn’t see or hear
him, but I felt him brush by me. That was enough. Pete Kowalski and
I had worked together a lot. He was good. Really good. He had just
dropped off my next set of instructions. I downed the rest of my
bourbon and headed out the back.

Once I had safely returned to my hotel, I looked at
what he had given me. My contact was going to be at a restaurant
the next night with my target. I needed to be there by eight. This
was my big chance. I would get my introduction and hopefully, get
things all tied up. Making sure I had the proper attire--suit, tie,
etc.--I decided on taking Bangkok up on its offering of women.

Hours later, after being serviced by three extremely
talented prostitutes, I went home to bed, feeling empty inside. My
mind reflected on the shit life I had chosen for myself. Oh, I had
the medals of glory for serving my country and all the other
bullshit. But at what price? My father had been murdered by that
cartel I had infiltrated, my mom was in the witness protection
program and so was my sister. For a time, when my sister had to
make her fiancé think she had actually died, I wondered if I had
done the right thing. Caroline had suffered so terribly, at times I
thought that maybe it would’ve been better to have taken the
chances with the cartel. I let loose a long breath as I thanked God
that it had all worked out for her in the long run.

Now me, on the other hand, I was
another story. There was no hope for redemption on my part. My mind
was a twisted mess. First, there was my dad’s death. He had died
thinking I was a fucking drug addict. He never knew the truth about
why I had gone to prison. Yeah, there was
that
little thing. I had spent time
in the big house...the state penn. It was all part of my cover, but
that didn’t matter. I had the shit beaten out of me daily. I’d been
burned, cut, stabbed, punched, kicked, branded and you can probably
figure out what else. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to do
that. That’s why I didn’t mess with regular women anymore. I was
what you might call tainted. Dirty. Disgusting. And certainly not
fit for proper society.

I’d also lived on the streets as a “drug addict.” I
wasn’t really, but I had to play the part. Hell, the most I’d ever
done was smoke weed. I had to shoot up saline to make it look real.
My life consisted of living in squalid conditions, being filthy and
going for weeks on end without bathing. Living like a normal human
being was not gonna be easy. My body was on full alert all the
time, tense and edgy, waiting for something, anything to
happen.

My thoughts shifted back to Caroline and Justin and
I felt envious of what they had together. Damn, you could just look
at the two of them and see it. They were so soft toward each other,
always looking at each other in that certain way...like not
thinking anyone could see them, but giving each other those
secretive glances. And they couldn’t keep their hands off of each
other, always constantly touching in some way, holding hands, or
having their arms around each other. Those two were the perfect
match and it was quite something to see. Well, I could pretty much
count on the fact that I wasn’t ever gonna see anything like that
in my life. I would never allow myself to get close to a woman. Not
with the psycho shit I was carrying around in my head. Huh uh, no
good woman deserved that. I wouldn’t dare put anyone through
that.

Lying flat on my back, staring at
the ceiling, I figured with the direction my thoughts had taken, I
was in for another sleepless night. Whenever I thought about my
past, I had this urge to scrub myself until I felt clean again. It
didn’t really work, but it gave the illusion of that. I dragged my
naked ass into the shower and stood under the spray, turning it as
close to scalding as my skin could stand. That was my routine when
I felt the nastiness invading my mind, as it did fairly often.
There was no running from it. Those bastards had done one hell of a
number on me and it wasn’t going away as far as I could
tell.

When I’d scrubbed myself as hard as I could, without
taking my skin off, I turned off the water and stepped out of the
shower. As I stood naked in front of the mirror, I stared at my
marred torso. The varied scars from my time in prison were
everywhere. So were my tats. I was adding more by the month now.
Every one had meaning though. They weren’t just random things I
took a liking to. No, all of my ink had significance.