Page 110 of The Company

Chapter Forty-Four - James

We walk back to the Hummer in silence and my mind, opened up from sharing these details with the girls, is buzzing like it’s got something to say. Memories flicker in and out, and I press my fingertips to my temples.

“You OK?” Harper asks me as she entwines her arm in mine. “You don’t look good.”

“Fine,” I say. But I’m not sure I’m fine. I’m not convinced any of us are fine.

Sasha glances over her shoulder at the dinosaur one last time before she opens the back door on the driver’s side and hops up into the truck.

“Put your belt on, kid.”

She does as she’s told without comment. Her earlier sadness, despite her bravado back under the reptile, has turned to hopelessness.

I prefer her sad if the alternative is hopeless.

So I smack her leg, trying to change her mood. But she just shakes her head. “This is worse.”

“What’s worse?” my dry throat croaks out.

“Knowing,” she says, her eyes still avoiding mine. “At least I had something to believe in before.” She directs her gaze up to mine as Harper gets in the front and closes her door.

“You can believe in me, kid. I told you, I’m working on it. I’m gonna keep you safe.” I look over at Harper as she silently watches us. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe.”

Sasha turns her whole body away from me and I close her door and open mine, get in, and just as I’m pulling my door closed I hear her whisper an answer.

“I don’t believe you.”

I let out a long breath and start the truck, the air-conditioning blasting away her words as the warm air shoots out. I don’t answer, just get back on the freeway and head towards LA, waiting for the chill to take over.

Actions always speak louder than words and all I’ve given her so far are words.

When the Admiral called me to the twins’ sixth birthday party I knew why I was there. To be given a number. An assassin had just been killed off. How? That’s an excellent question. One I never cared much about until recently. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s too late to make a difference. The twelve years between then and now have wiped that advantage away. Besides, if I had known then what I know now… I’d definitely be dead.

I was never lied to. At least by my parents. They were upfront from the time I was small. You are a Company child, James. You will always be a Company child. But being honest and being forthcoming are two very different things.

I should know, I use that to my advantage all the time. I try to be honest when I can, but I’m almost never forthcoming. And there is a big difference.

For instance, telling me that I am owned by the Company is honest. But leaving out the fact that my children will be traded for favors like secrets and my wife will be killed if she objects is far from being forthcoming. And call me what you will—sell-out, naive, shill—whatever. I admit I’ve been all those things at one point or another. But that’s only because people who said they were being honest were very far from forthcoming.

At sixteen, looking at my promise playing on the beach, yeah. That was all very much OK with me. I refused her, so I know I have some honor. But I wanted her, even if I refused to admit it. I wanted her enough to listen to the Admiral’s plan for me. I wanted her enough to kill on command for more than a decade. I wanted her enough to follow every order sent to me, without fail. I wanted her enough to kill my associates and my own brother.

Even after my little sister was taken that first year I was working professionally, I wanted to be what the Admiral thought I was. His personal assassin. Because I wanted Harper. I might not’ve admitted it back then, but I wanted to please him, I wanted to show him I was worthy.

And fuck it, I still want what’s mine. I do. I’ve lived my life the past dozen years based on the fact that there’s a reward for me when it’s all said and done.

My mind flickers again and I suck in some air as the stabbing pain shoots across my forehead.

But that was before I got the message.

It’s funny how one text can change your life. How a few simple words can tip all your plans upside down, redirect your life’s work, and make you do things you never thought yourself capable of.

I’m capable of anything, though. I know that now. I’ve killed enough people in cold blood to understand what it means to be capable of something.

People who assume I will blink when things get too hot typically end up dead.

I never blink.

I never stumble. I never fall. I never pull punches.