3. Kali

3

KALI

I have myself so worked up that when the guy draws near me, I leap away and turn to engage him. If he’s here to hurt me, I’ve already decided I’m not going down without one hell of a fight. I’ve taken self-defense lessons, but I’m not entirely sure I’m not going to freeze up if I ever have to use them.

The guy’s eyes go round, and he steps back, holding his hands up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The elevator arrives, and he steps in. He puts his hand on the door to stop it from closing. I’m panting as if I just stopped running, and my hand is still on my chest. “Are you getting on?”

I look behind me at the dark parking garage and then to the man in front of me holding the door. He has a briefcase in one hand and a suit on; no doubt he works in the building. “Uh, yeah, I’m getting on. Sorry about that.”

I step onto the elevator and notice the man is giving me as much room as possible in the little space we have. I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy. How could he not? He pushes the button, and I notice he’s going to the same floor I am.

I’m so embarrassed. What is wrong with me?

The whole ride up, I’m trying to figure out what to say to the man to try and explain my behavior, but I can’t think of anything. When the elevator dings and the door comes up, I rush out and stop at the reception desk. “Hi. I’m Kali Foster. I have an interview for the social worker position.”

“Please have a seat. They’ll call you when they’re ready.”

I nod and go sit down and then realize the man from the elevator is here to interview for the same position. I do my best to give myself a little pep talk. Just because I had a bad dream doesn’t mean I have to let it affect my whole day. I can still salvage what’s left of it.

“Kali Foster,” a woman calls from across the room.

I stand up and walk away with the man’s eyes watching me with a wary expression. I shake it off. I apologized to him; there’s not much more I can do.

The interview goes really well. “Your resume is impressive. You’ve accomplished a lot in a very short time. You must have had very little time for socializing in college to get so much done.”

“Yes, well, I’m very driven and passionate about sociology and psychology. I want to help people. I worked while I was in college so yeah, I didn’t really waste time socializing outside of school and internships.”

We talk about the job, and even though it’s an entry level position I know it’s exactly what I need to one day be able to get closer to my goal.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

In all my preparation, I had assumed there would be a question like this, and I’m ready for it. “I want to help injured veterans. Help them acclimate back into society, show them there is still a great future for them. They are heroes in my eyes, and I want them to see it too. That is my ultimate goal.”

She sits back and taps her pen on the desk, looking at me curiously. “That’s very interesting, and it seems you feel very passionate about that. Why is that?”

“My brother-in-law is in the military,” I tell her, leaving out the fact that Nico is part of a mercenary team. That’s the only explanation I give.

She’s looking at me as if waiting for me to go on, and I shrug my shoulders and smile broadly at her.

She leans forward. “Well, I have a great feeling about you, Ms. Foster, and I’ll likely be in touch with you really soon.”

I’m happy when I shake her hand and leave the office. I pretty much glide onto the elevator, not even thinking to look for the guy from earlier. The elevator is crowded as I step on, and I’m not paying attention to the other passengers. I’m too busy thinking what it will mean if I get this job.

I can pay my rent for a few months and save up to get my own place. Maybe I can get a loan for a newer car. Mine isn’t going to last too much longer. Anna is going to be so excited for me.

The elevator stops on the third floor, and people get off.

I shift to let them by.

The elevator stops again, and more people exit on the second floor. For a minute, I think I’m alone on the elevator, but when I look to the left, I find there’s still one passenger.

Male. His profile looks so much like... but it can’t be him. I turn to fully look at him, and my stomach drops. It can’t be him. It can’t be Miles. The man that kidnapped me when I was in high school.

He’s dead. Nico said he was dead, and my brother-in-law wouldn’t lie to me.

The doors open as he turns toward me, and I race out of the elevator and across the lobby. I crash into the doorman, who tries to help me, and when I turn to point at Miles, he’s not there. Not in the lobby anyway.

“Miss, are you okay?” the doorman asks as I cling to him.

“He kidnapped me.... he—”

But before I can get it all out, the doorman reaches for the phone beside him. “I’m going to call the police and building security to see if the man threatening you can be located.”

I keep watching behind me. Everyone in the lobby is staring at me, and I’m not sure what to do. Nico assured me that Miles was dead and couldn’t ever harm me again. Do I really want to start a new job, assuming I still have a chance at it, by launching a manhunt after a dead man?

“No, no. Please. I’m fine. I just want to leave,” I tell him, pulling away. I’m so embarrassed, I all but run from the man and down the steps that lead to the parking garage. Am I hallucinating now? I can’t believe this is happening!

I open the door to the parking garage, ignore the darkness, and stride toward my car. As I get close, Miles steps out of the shadows with a smirk on his face. I blink hard, watching as his lips turn up in a vicious smile. He’s real. I’m not hallucinating.

Run!

It’s what everything inside of me is screaming to do, but I can’t. Physically, I can’t move. Flashbacks of Miles kidnapping me all those years ago has bile rising in my throat. I stand there frozen, staring, wanting to know if what I’m seeing is real.

“Miles?” My voice is shaking so hard I can barely form the name, but it registers with him, and his eyes grow more intent as he reaches out and pins me against my car. So real. I’m so dead.

“How stupid can you be? Thanks to you, Miles and Victor are dead,” he says, naming the two men that tormented me.

“I... I didn’t kill them,” I tell him as I try to pry his hands off my shoulders. “Please, what are you doing?”

“I’m starting with you, Kali. Why not? You made it so easy to find you. I tracked you down while I was still in prison. You made it easy to keep track of you too, and I’ve been dreaming about how you were going to be my key to getting to the others responsible. Yeah, your brother-in-law and the rest of his team. I got out only a few days ago.”

I struggle hard, and his fingers cinch down so hard it feels like my bones are going to snap under the pressure. He pushes my hands down, and I put one in my bag, and my finger bumps into my keys. I wrap my hand around them.

“My brothers are dead. Do you have any idea what it was like losing my twin and I couldn’t even go to the funeral? I made a promise that day that I would avenge their deaths, and you’re going to help me do it. You’re going to take me to your friends, each of them, and watch them die. Nico first.”

Emotion surges through me, giving me strength and courage. The keys slide between my fingers as I tighten my fist, and I bring it up hard in an uppercut under his chin, the keys scratching up his chin and drawing blood.

His grip loosens, and he stumbles back a step.

I lift my knee hard and hit him in the groin, knocking him over. I run around to the driver’s side of my car and get in, locking all the doors. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get the key in the ignition.

There’s movement in the side window, and I look to see him getting up, his hand bloody from clutching his chin as he pulls himself up, and my engine roars to life. I back out of the spot as I hear the snapping of my sideview mirror.

Looking in my rearview mirror, I see him reaching in his jacket, probably going for a gun.

I floor it, speeding up the lane to the exit and keep going, taking the turns fast, ignoring the squeal of my tires and the honks of other drivers.

The exit gate is still up from the last car that went through, and I drive right through it before the arm comes back down.

Breathe, just breathe. You got away.

I keep driving. I’m shaking from head to toe and keep checking the rearview mirrors, knowing he must have a car if he followed me to the interview. Was he in the parking lot at my apartment? He said he’d been keeping track of me for years, so he knows where I live, and I can’t go back.

You made it so easy to keep track of you. I cringe at the thought. I moved from Arizona to California. I have no idea how he found me, but the fact is he did, and he wants revenge.

I have to be smart this time. No matter what, I can’t lead this psycho back to Anna, Nico, and my sweet niece Faith. I can’t.

I let the anger I feel fuel me as I get on the freeway. I keep driving, changing freeways at random and watching to make sure I’m not followed.

Knox

Downtime is not my thing. Aiden and Colt left early for a personal assignment, and Dylan is helping them with strategy, but the rest of us are still here just doing our paperwork. We’re supposed to be taking some mental health days. Everyone else seems happy to have time off, but not me. I’m annoyed, and I can’t have another night of sitting in my empty house thinking about everything I don’t have. I’ve never been this way before. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but ever since I met the Jensens it’s like the thought of settling down and finding someone is at the forefront of everything for me. And I don’t know why. I can’t settle down. I’m committed to my job. I spent years in the military until one day Commander Hunter Nash pulled me aside for a special assignment. Little did I know it was a test, and I passed with flying colors. Since that mission, I joined the team in Whiskey Run. We are a group of mercenaries. No one talks about what we do, but we help those in need.

I walk through the barely lit bad side of downtown Jasper and jog down the steps. I’m in a back alley that most people wouldn’t be caught dead walking in at this time of night. But I don’t care. I’m more lethal than anyone I’ll meet on the street.

I knock twice, and the door opens a crack. JMac, the bouncer, recognizes me immediately. “What’s up, Knox?”

“I talked to Toby. He put me on the lineup for tonight.”

He opens the door, shaking his head. “Yeah, you got Mason, better known as ‘The Machine.’”

I shrug. “Don’t know him.”

He laughs and hits me on the back. “Yeah, uh, good luck with that.”

I walk away and push my way through the crowd to get to the back room where the fighters get ready. People are cheering and yelling at the fight going on now, and just being surrounded by it all sends my adrenaline through the roof. I need this. I need to fight and punch something. Maybe that can take the edge off.

“You made it,” Toby says as I walk into the back room.

There are men in different corners of the room in various states of dress. Some of them go all out and have headbands and wristbands with matching shorts. I pull off my shirt and hang it on the hook before sitting on the chair and holding my hands out. The doc who I’m pretty sure isn’t a doctor comes and sits down across from me. He’s the one that tapes everyone up and makes sure everything is on the up and up. I guess it had to be done since one guy had a razor blade in his taped-up hands at a fight last year.

“So tell me about Mason, The Machine. How’d he get a name like that?”

Toby sits down with his back to the wall and watches the people around him. He seems a little jumpy, and I guess with what he does, organizing fights, he has to be aware of his surroundings. “He got the name because they say he’s like a machine. Nothing stops him.”

I laugh, and the doctor lifts his head, giving me a dirty look. “Sorry,” I tell him and hold my hands out for him to finish. I look at Toby. “And you thought me fighting The Machine would be a good one.”

He smirks. “I know it will be.”

I shake my head. I probably should be worried, but I’m not. It’s like I’m jonesing to get out there. “The fight before you is over. They’re waiting on us,” Toby says.

“Which one’s Mason?” I ask, tipping my head to the men in the other corners.

“He’s already out there.”

When I stand up, the doc pats me down to make sure I don’t have any weapons. I thank him and head out to the ring. They’ve already announced The Machine, and he’s standing in the ring, dancing around on the balls of his feet, pointing at the crowd. He has on red shiny shorts with a matching robe. He’s big and is trying to look mean by the way he keeps growling and hitting his chest.

I walk into the ring in my cut-off army fatigues and take note of the man I’m about to fight. Just by watching him bounce around I can tell what kind of fighter he’s going to be. He’s here for the show. He’s probably fought his way through all the amateur underground fighters and thinks this is going to be an easy win since he’s won all the other ones.

The referee brings us to the middle of the ring and goes over the rules. Nothing dirty, but all else goes. There are so many ways to interpret it, but I'm not going to question it. It’s a ten count on the mat, and the other man wins. We both nod, and when I go to fist-bump my opponent, he snarls instead. But I’m not surprised.

The bell rings, and I stand in place as “The Machine” dances around me. He swings once, and his fist connects with my cheek. One hit. I always let them get one hit. He dances some more and swings, but I dodge this one. He swings again, and I dodge that one. The crowd starts to laugh, and that’s when he loses his cool. He runs for me, and I rear back and punch him once in the face. He falls flat on his back and is out cold. The referee dives to the mat beside him and counts to ten. As soon as the match is over and I’m announced as the winner, I walk out of the ring. Some people are cheering, and some are booing, no doubt having expected more of a show.

Toby is right next to me when I get in the back. Doc starts untaping me, and I’m barely even breathing hard.

“Really? One punch?”

“I let him hit me,” I tell him as if that explains things.

Toby’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. This guy is a sore loser. He won’t like being humiliated.”

I shrug and flinch as the doctor is cleaning up the cut on my face. “Most people don’t.”

Toby throws his hands in the air in frustration. You would think he’d be happy I won. “You couldn’t have made it last longer?”

I thank the doc when he’s done and reach for my shirt still hanging on the hook. “Nope. I didn’t like him.”

Toby snorts. “Really?”

He brings a wad of cash out of his pocket. “Here you go. You sure you don’t want to go another, double or nothing?”

“I’m sure. Thanks for getting me in, Toby.”

I start to walk away, and he stops me. “So you feel better now?”

When I called him, I told him I needed to let off some steam, which was the truth, but do I feel better? No, not really. That pit in the center of my stomach is still there... like something’s missing. But I’m not going to tell him that. As soon as I get back into action, back on the job, it will be gone. “Yeah, I feel better.”

He holds up his part of the winnings with a big smile. “Yeah, me too.”

I shake my head just as I get shoulder checked by The Machine. He must have gained consciousness since I’d been in the back room. He’s staring at me and obviously mad about how badly he got beaten. Probably embarrassed too. I nod at him. As it goes with most things, sore losers will be sore for a few days and then they’ll get over it.

“See you around, Toby,” I call over my shoulder and walk out the door. The sound is deafening as the crowd screams at the next fight that is happening.

When I walk out the door into the dark alley, it hits me. Silence. I can actually hear myself think. The feeling I usually have after a fight isn’t there. I feel good, but I don’t feel at peace. I could go to a bar, have a few drinks. I could pick up a woman, but even that doesn’t interest me right now. I need out of this fog I’m in. What I need is a mission; that always calms my mind.