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Amy leaned in close, her finger running along the rim of the glass. “So what else you got planned tonight, muscles? This ol’ bottle and I are all by our lonesome.”

Roen hesitated. On the one hand, she revolted him with her ashen face, yellow-stained teeth, and inane prattle. On the other hand, she did come with a free bottle…

The door opened with a loud creak. “He’s already got plans,” a strong, clear voice butted in, the sound traveling all the way through the entire bar. Roen didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Instead, he took the bottle out of Amy’s hand, poured himself a double, and threw it down.

Amy looked over lazily at the new voice and turned her back to it, pretending to be wiping the counter. “Sorry, honey, we’re closed.”

“I’m not here for a drink,” Jill said as she took a seat next to him.

“Get her one anyway. Tequila for the raging tempest,” Roen said.

“I’m here to talk to this son of a bitch.” She swung a closed fist with a thumb extended out toward him.

“Want me to get rid of her, handsome?” Amy asked. “Who is she anyway?”

“She’s just some-” Roen said.

“-wife,” Jill growled.

And all the good will Roen had worked so hard to build here went up in a puff of smoke. Amy shot him a look that could kill a buffalo. “No good bastard swamp snake,” she hissed and poured Jill the shot of tequila. “Here you go, honey, this one’s on his tab.”

Jill smiled sweetly at Amy, and the two shared a drink on Roen’s dime. The next hour went by awkwardly, the ladies lambasting him as if he weren’t there. When he shook his glass for another drink, Amy just shrugged and answered, “Pay your tab first, deadbeat,” and proceeded to pour Jill another shot.

My advice is to run. I see no path to victory here.

“Thanks, Genghis. At this rate, I might have to start washing dishes if I’m going to cover this tab.”

Amy even walked Jill out of the bar when she closed shop, going as far as hugging her and telling her to “take care of yourself, sweetheart, and watch out for the snakes that slither back into your life, you pretty little thing.”

And then Jill and Roen were standing alone on the deserted gravel lot of Buck’s Bar. They walked toward her car in silence. “She’s sweet,” Jill smirked. “Now I understand why you left me.”

“I left you?” Roen’s voice shot up two octaves.

Steady. Do the countdown.

If Jill had been anyone else in the world, his fist of fury would be dropping bombs right now. Instead, he closed his eyes and counted down from fourteen, enunciating each syllable one by one. He used to count down from ten, but as the years went on and the situation worsened, a higher number became necessary. When he had calmed down, he opened his eyes slowly and studied her face. There were dark rings around her eyes and her usually straight brown hair was mussed up. Roen reached toward her and touched the cut on her cheek. “We need to get something on that, or it’ll scar. How are you?”

She knocked his hand away. “I think what you meant to ask was how is our son?”

“I’m not asking in the order of importance,” he ground his teeth. “How are you?”

“Alive,” she shrugged, “for now.”

“How is Cameron? Does he miss his father?”

“He doesn’t know his father!” Jill snapped.

“I’m not the one who forbade visits,” he snapped back. “Might I-”

Stop.

“Tao, butt out.”

Stop. Now. You dummies are quarreling in a parking lot at two in the morning off the side of a highway. You can go ahead and be stupid with each other, but at least have your shared idiocy some place safe where I am not endangered.

Roen sighed. “Come on, Jill, it’s late. We’ve both been drinking. Let’s talk at my place.”

She narrowed her eyes and her mouth curved upward. For a second, the old mischievous Jill he remembered was back. “Inviting me over? That’s a bold move. Daddy’s been asking where in Africa you Fedexed yourself to. Now I get to save him from needing vaccination shots.”

“How are Louis and Lee Ann?” Roen asked. No doubt both her parents wanted to string him up and use him as a piñata. It was really too bad. Roen had spent an inordinate amount of effort to get on Louis’ good side. At first, Louis didn’t think he was good enough for Jill, but he softened when he saw the engagement ring. Then he hardened up two minutes later when he found out it was going to be a shotgun wedding. He didn’t soften again until Cameron was born.

“Busy taking care of your son,” Jill replied, deflating. “I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take care of my own son with all that’s going on. I’m a terrible mother.”

Roen saw a tear sneak out of the corner of her eye and roll down her face. He reached over to embrace her. She socked him in the shoulder. Roen bit his lip and held his hands up in surrender. At least she still hadn’t learned how to throw a punch yet, else this conversation might become painful.

He was a bit uneasy about Jill’s parents taking care of Cameron, though. He knew that regardless of what happened between them, Jill would never badmouth him, but who knew what poison her parents, Louis especially, were whispering into his son’s ears. “How did you know I’d be at Buck’s anyway?” he asked

“Because you’re always here after one of your watch-over-Jill escapades,” she shrugged. “Don’t think the Prophus haven’t kept an eye on you. You’re not as off the grid as you think you are.”

She has a point. You have been maddeningly predictable lately.

“On the subject of which, by the way,” she added, “who’s your mole in Command?”

Roen shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Who’s our leak?” she repeated, emphasizing each word. “Come on, your having access to mission tactics and playing shadow on some of my assignments means some jackass with misplaced loyalties is feeding you intel. Who’s the dunce?”

“Not some of your assignments,” he grumbled. “All of them. I’ve watched your back on all twelve of those crap missions Command has sent you on over the past year.”

“Fourteen,” she corrected.

Roen shook his head. “Costa Rica doesn’t count. You didn’t even bring your gun. And I arranged for you to be watched in Paris. And a mole won’t be much of one if you knew, would it?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Sure you don’t,” he said gruffly. “You had tonight completely under control. Come on, my place isn’t far. Follow in your car. We can finish this conversation at a secure location.”

Jill looked like she was about to protest but then thought better of it. Baji must have seen the wisdom of his proposal. It must have killed her to agree with him. A small victory. Baji barely ever conceded anything to him, and she was like this before Sonya died. It must be ten times worse now.

They got into their cars and drove another six kilometers west deeper into the Appalachians, two lonely sets of headlights weaving through the darkened hills. Eventually, he pulled off the highway and traveled down a sloping gravel road to a dried up ravine. He parked under a small ledge that hid the car from the sky and got out. Moments later, Jill pulled up next to him.

“Either you live in a tent, or you lured me here to murder me,” she mused, looking around.

“After you, my lady,” Roen smirked as he gestured magnanimously at a crooked myrtle tree growing out of the slope.

Jill rolled her eyes and peered underneath the tree. She whistled when she discovered a concrete tunnel burrowed into the ravine covered by a rusty gate. “When you said you were going underground, you really meant it,” she said, impressed. “Gone to live with your kind?”

“Are you calling our son half-rat?” he teased.

“My looks, my brains, thank God,” she answered.