Dad was a good man and a good father, despite his absences. At a young age, I had the feeling he was doing something great when he was away. To most girls, I’m sure that’s an impossible idea. I knew, though. I always felt as if he was protecting us. By the time I was old enough to realize what he actually did, he was recruiting me.

I love my job. I love my life. I sure as hell don’t need a man to try to bring me down a notch. Being a female in this industry isn’t easy. I’m always looked at as lesser than the men, so I make sure to work twice as hard.

“What, Mother?” I groan into the receiver.

“If you answered the damn phone when I called the first ten times, I wouldn’t need to keep calling,” my mother practically whispers. Her voice never raises an octave. She would’ve been a kick ass spy.

“I didn’t want to talk.”

“Clearly.”

“Yet, you keep calling.” I tap my foot. There are very few people in the world who can scare me. She’s one of them. However, I still instigate fights with her. My mother is somehow able to twist me into believing everyone else is wrong, even if there is photographic evidence that proves otherwise. It’s the most amazing thing to watch, but never fun to be on the receiving end of.

She sighs and I picture her running her hand through her onyx hair. “Don’t test me.” She pauses. “I’m hosting a gala in memory of your father. You’re to be there this time. I don’t care if the president orders you to Timbuktu, you’re coming. It’s important our place in the community doesn’t falter.”

“When?”

My father’s cover still has to be kept for appearance’s sake. My mother’s really the strongest woman I know. Having to carry on the façade for our entire lives wasn’t easy, but she did it with a smile. I’m sure my father paid heavily for it privately, yet her place by his side never waivered. My brother and I grew up with more love than two kids could ask for. We were happy, considering our father did a lot of things we may never know about.

“In two weeks. And Charisma?” She and my brother are the only people alive that are allowed to call me by my name.

“Yes, Mother?”

“Bring a date. No one likes to see you walking around and drinking alone. It makes you look like it’s by choice. Don’t make me second-guess not setting up that arranged marriage,” she says and then disconnects the call.

I swear there are times I contemplate making an anonymous tip to Homeland Security that she’s a terrorist. However, I’m sure she’d find a way to swear I defected against my country.

The loss of my father did a number on her, no matter what she shows. She loved him more than anything. He left a void in all our lives, but my mother—I can only imagine. I’m still amazed by the fact my father had it all. A wife, children, plus the job he lived for. I, on the other hand, can’t seem to manage any of it.

My phone pings. It’s one of my most favorite people in the world, my brother Dominic.

Dom: You’re going to this stupid thing. I’m not going to keep pulling your weight.

Me: Or what?

Dom: Mom is killing me! She’s up my ass, asking when I’m going to marry. She knows you’re a lost cause.

I roll my eyes. I’m not a lost cause, I just haven’t found anyone worth my time.

Me: I’ll think about going.

Dom: I’ll tell her you want to go shopping for a dress.

Me: I’ll tell her you’re running for senate.

I can imagine his face. The fact he’s taken a few minutes to reply tells me he’s staring at the phone with his jaw slack. Of course, there are only three people who know about his plans, and I’m not supposed to be one of them. I toss the phone and head into my home office.

This room gives me peace.

Once I’m inside, I close and lock the door, unstrap the gun from around my thigh, and pull the laptop from its hiding place. To the normal person, this is simply an office. It has light-blue walls, white eyelet curtains, and a huge white desk. It’s clean, neat, and deadly. This room is wired so I can see and hear anything in the entire apartment.

There are also more trap doors than anyone can imagine. Slowly, I pull the file that sits hidden between two others—the one that haunts my dreams; the only case I can’t solve—and hesitate to open it. I know every detail. Each word is ingrained in my mind, but I can’t stop myself. I look every single day, hoping that maybe I’ll find something I missed, and I can finally put a bullet in the asshole responsible for killing my father.

Mark

What a day. I key in the alarm code and grab a beer from the fridge. My house is quiet, exactly the way I like it. This place is my only retreat from the crazy. I don’t take work home. I don’t even have an office. Just one giant man cave that all my friends hate me for.

I bought my bungalow in Sandbridge on the outskirts of Virginia Beach when I was stationed here years ago. It’s small, but it’s only me. This area is a hike to work, but it’s like living on my own private island.

With my beer in hand, I head off to the beach. Once I get to my favorite spot, I sit watching a few surfers and the sea stretched out in front of me.

The conversation with Aaron replays like a loop. So many things don’t add up, which makes me skeptical about his hunch. What the hell does Al Mazir have to do with any of us? He wasn’t a target on our missions. I don’t even think that terrorist ring was active back when I was a SEAL, or if it was, it didn’t have the same leaders. The region we were in during our time was more Iraq or Libya based, although I don’t know that it matters. Each time I think I have a handle on it something else throws me off.

Then, there’s the fact he wants to keep it from Muff, which I’d never do. There are some lines you don’t cross. Jackson would never get over being betrayed by one of us.

“Hey, Mark!” my neighbor Tiffany yells from the surf.

I should’ve brought my board. I always think better in the water.

I stand to greet her and push my hair back. “Hey, Tiff.” I smile. “How’re the waves?”

Her wetsuit clings to her body like a glove. She’s beautiful with her long dark hair, brown eyes, and killer curves. But we’ve already had that dance, and I’ve learned not to put your dick in places it can get slapped again. Luckily, Tiffany is cool and never wanted more than one night. According to her, I was a conquest, which works just fine for me.

“It’s good surfing! Go grab your board, there’s still time before the sun sets.”

I look at the sky and I could get in maybe an hour. “Let me—” My phone cuts me off.

Charlie. This woman is one I’d give my left nut to tame—or try to.

“I’ll catch you later. I need to take this,” I call off to Tiffany as I trudge up the beach.

I double-time it over a dune where the wind isn’t so bad. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” I grin. She’s probably already wishing she didn’t call.

“Oh, yes.” The sarcasm is clear in her phone sex operator voice. “You’re always on my mind, Dixon.”

“I’d be happy to make you the next Mrs. Dixon.”

She scoffs, “I’m good.”