Bryn's Book Obsessions

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Five minutes before Rachel arrived at his cabin, Joe started preparing coffee.

She hadn’t let him know she was coming, but she wasn’t trying to hide it either. The cameras on the freeway nearby had picked up the numberplate of her own Range Rover as it took the turning towards his place. Sound sensors placed along the gate blocking his drive from the road picked up the tell-tale squeak of it being opened, no attempt being made to dampen or disguise the sound. The motion alarm system operating on the long driveway through the trees was blaring with activity. He could hear her tires on the gravel track, her heels on his wooden porch steps, the wrap of her knuckle on the old door.

He pulled a shirt over his head, sweaty from his workout despite the chill and frost in the air, and pulled the door open, a small smile already gracing his face.

His heart thudded in his chest. Rachel looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful, large doe eyes and porcelain skin, hair falling in waves around her chin, kind smile and kinder heart, but today her face was flushed from the cold, snowflakes dancing in the darkness of her hair, eyes brightening with something at the sight of him. She looked stunning. A grin was plastered on her face, polite greeting lingering on her lips. She welcomed herself inside, wrapping a strong arm around his neck in a quick side hug, one of his own settling briefly round her back, savouring the brief feeling of holding her in his arms, hating himself for how his heart jumped in his chest at the sight of her, the feel of her body heat, the scent of her head.

He stepped back. When it came to her, distance had always been his ally.

Back turning to her, he made his way through the little cabin to the kitchen where he had set out two cups of coffee. One decorated with tractors and hay bales, a gift from Matt, already laden with milk and two sugars, the other affectionately labelled I’m with stupid and adorned with an arrow pointing up, a gift from Abby, left black and bitter. Rachel followed behind him, silently removing the snow soaked scarf and coat which covered her oversized sweatshirt, a navy number Joe recognised as one of his. He swallowed, eyeing her in the reflection of the window, still breathless by the sight of her.

“You just get back from a run?” She was eyeing his attire with mirth, his legs now blue with the cold under his shorts, one of Matt’s old baseball tees being the first thing he could find to throw on. It was too small for him, hem falling exactly at the level of his shorts, riding up when he reached into the cupboard for the bags of M&Ms he keeps stored there, sleeves fitting snug around his shoulders and biceps, the material tight on his chest. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me.”

His attention flickered back to her at her tone. It was light and airy, traces of her grin still lingering on her lips, proof of her amusement glinting in her eyes. She sounded almost like her sister. Her gazed trailed up from his legs, lingering on his shorts, then trailed up his arms and down his shoulders. Swallowing, her smile wavered when she recognised the logo on the shirt, the glint in her eyes darkening when she recognised it as Matt’s. A deep breath rattled through her, lip caught between her teeth. Joe hadn’t meant to upset her.

He shrugged, “Got to look good for the boss.”

Humming in something like agreement, the smile returned to her face when he handed her her coffee, gulping back at least half of it immediately. Neck extended back, chin tilted up, she wrapped her lips around the rim and swallowed deeply, oblivious to how he couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away couldn’t breathe. He took a sip from his own drink, relishing the way the heat burned through him, cleansed him.

“What’s up?” They took a seat in the sitting room, both aiming for the small couch but pausing when they reached it, Joe subtly re-angling his body towards the armchair. “Thought you’d be with Cameron by now.”

Rachel had tensed when they reached the couch, had relaxed when she sat amongst the assorted cushions alone, then tensed again at the mention of her daughter. Her face betrayed her thoughts. Softened though it was at the thought of her, her anxieties over Cammie’s future, her safety, bled through. Although her mouth was closed, Joe could see the way her teeth had clamped down on the inside of her cheek, how her tongue was pressed hard into the roof of her mouth. Eyebrows drawn together by the concerned frown that started brewing across her features, she angled her head lower to hid the worry on her face behind her hair, disguising the move as reaching down to adjust her shoe. A deep breath, and she lifted her head again, all signs of stress vanquished and only the soft smile so often associated with her daughter left on her face.

“She’s safe with the Baxters.” Joe had never suggested she wasn’t, never thought she wasn’t, but he let Rachel reassure herself of this under the guise of reassuring him. He let her have that. “Abby and I are flying out in a couple days.”

That’s new.

Since Matt’s disappearance, his death, Abby had spent most of her Christmas’ working or hiding, the one exception being the year she turned up on his doorstep in drunken floods of tears, endless apologies pouring out of her mouth and refusing to let him touch her. He figured it was a good sign that Rachel had finally convinced her to spend the holidays with her family again instead of her guilt, though the festivities being held in London rather than Nebraska might have had something to do with it.

“Besides, I wanted to check on you before we go.” She smiled at him again, the near image of her younger sister, eyes saying words he couldn’t quite translate.

Something melted in him at her words, her smile, her kindness, warmth spreading through him and leaving goosebumps up his arms. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t breath, but not in a painful way, more like he didn’t need to breath while she was looking at him like that. Her concern over him was touching, but he didn’t deserve it. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he returned her smile, bashfully diverting his gaze to the floor lest the look on her face start causing his cheeks to redden.

“I’m good,” The words were soft, barely a whisper, met by a hum and a sip of coffee in response. Throat clearing, his tone turned back to professional stoicism. “I’ve got an asset in the Middle East to track down,” he nodded to the notes and maps strewn across the coffee table, M&Ms scattered amongst them, “and I told Zach I’d meet up with him a few weeks.”

“How is Zach?”

Angry. Scared. Alone. So much like Joe was at that age it made him sad, and yet so different, so much better, it made him proud.

“Alright.” He didn’t make Rachel wait long for what she really wanted to know. As much as Rachel was kind to the boy as a favour to Joe, as much as she was fondly amused by his attempts to charm Cammie, Joe knew that part of her was still thinking like an operative, was concerned with how Zach was useful more than how he was. “He hasn’t heard anything from Catherine or the rest of them.” She bit her lip again. He continued, knowing that a small part of her, much smaller than the part of Abby but part of her all the same, thought that he was dangerous. Thought that his presence in Cammie’s life was dangerous. Was putting her at more risk. “I told him to keep his distance over the winter. He knows his mother keeps an eye out for him, he wont do anything to put Cameron at risk.”

Joe’s thoughts strayed to 20 years ago. Wondered if he had kept a similar distance from Matt, if Matt had kept a similar distance from Rachel, would they be safer now? He’s sure that they would, sure that all the hardship the Morgan family had suffered through could be traced back to the day he made a confession to his best friend, asked him for help. He wondered if anything he ever does will ever atone for that.

Sipping again from his drink, he let the bitterness wash over him, tickling his throat and mingling with the acid in his stomach. She mimicked him, her coffee sweeter though still strong, warming and comforting where his was harsh and jolting.

Fitting, he mused to himself.

“How is Abby? I haven’t spoken to her since…” Since she was shot, since she almost died. Since she kissed him, since she implied she did it to make Rachel… jealous?

Another indecipherable look passes over her face at his question. Head cocked slightly to one side, eyes inquisitive like she’s trying to read his mind. “Alright.” Something in her relaxes when all he does is nod. A deep breath fights its way out of her chest through her mouth, she nods slowly to herself, nose crinkling slightly as her thoughts stray to her little sister. “Yeah she’s alright, looks better. She’s back in the sling though. Her shoulder popped back out the socket at the end of her undercover op, but it should finish healing up over the holidays.”

“That’s good.” It was good. Abby had looked a little like death warmed over and painted with a smile last time Joe had seen her.

“Hmm,” Theres that look again, that question in her eyes like its abnormal for him to be concerned about a friend he’s known half her life. “She’s going to be hard to convince to take it easy though, I just heard that The Circle member in lockup, the shooter, started talking this afternoon so I’m-“

“What?”

What?

His heart froze in his chest, air in his lungs turning to cement, brain short circuiting then rebooting again all at once. He remembers the man with the gun from DC. Pale hair and snarling face. Wiry limbs and impeccable aim. Remembers him from school. Well made bed and pristine uniform. Poor gym scores made up for by his target practice. Remembers him from his early days in The Circle. Angry and determined. Lonely and violent.

If he’s started talking, Joe may not be safe here, Rachel may not be safe here. If that man gives Langley Joe’s name then they’ll be questions to answer. The people Joe has known longest, the only people other than Matt he let get close to him, will come under scrutiny. Abby’s history will probably get her in the clear quite quickly. She’s worked with CIA, with Interpol, with MI6 tirelessly over the last few years on mostly sanctioned missions to root out Circle members, and the organisation had made more attempts to kill her than anyone else still alive. But before his death Matt made sure to keep Rachel far removed from their business, and afterwards she removed herself in order to stay near Cammie, if Joe’s name gets leaked there will be people from high up, idiots, who will have questions for her.

Maybe he can turn himself in, make sure they understand, make sure they know she never had anything to do with it. They may be more likely to believe him if he goes willingly. No matter how much it hurts to picture the betrayal on Rachel’s face when she learns the truth, how she’ll hate him, how she’ll finally believe him when he says he’s to blame for Matt’s death, if the truth’s coming out anyway this may be the best way to protect her.

But how can he protect Cammie?

If he turns himself in, he’ll never see the light of day again. He can live with that. God knows it’s what he deserves for what he’s done to this family. But until they know why The Circle are after Cammie, until they’ve been stopped, until she’s safe again, Joe can’t be indisposed. He has to protect her. He promised Matt. He promised Rachel.

He’ll have to run. It will make him look guilty. They’ll send teams of operatives after him, operatives that he knows and has worked with and may even be friends with. They could send Abby to track him down. She’ll be furious with him, she’ll hate him. She’ll be hurt and betrayed and wont listen if he tries to explain. The younger of the Cameron sisters had always been quick to anger, burning hot and fast like a sparkler on a short fuse.

He’ll go into hiding, just while the heat dies down. Then maybe he can track down some of Matt’s old journals, something that explains what he did, why they did it. Maybe they’ll be something in there that explains what The Circle want with Cammie. Maybe he can protect her and salvage the only functioning relationships he has in one go. Maybe if he can save her she’ll forgive him, maybe Zach will forgive him.

‘-Joe? Are you okay? Did you hear what I said?”

Rachel will never forgive him.

It was a painful truth to come to realise, cutting through his flesh and burning through his heart. The kindness, the concern she was showing him now, the delicate hand she lay on his and the worried frown that graced her features would become cold. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to cry. He needed to leave but if this was the last time he was going to see her, see her like this, he wanted to savour it. Drink her in. Fill his lungs with her.

“Sorry Rach,” Questions flinched across her face, he never called her Rach. “I just remembered I have to go.” He downed the rest of his coffee, the bitterness of it turning to ash in his mouth, and stood. She took his lead cautiously, following him to the door and redressing for the cold. “My asset is supposed to check in at a payphone across town soon.”

They paused at the door, Joe’s heart thumping in his chest, breaking for the pain he’s about to put her through.

“Merry Christmas Rachel, give my love to the girls.”

I’m sorry. I love you.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him in close and tight. The warmth of her spread through his body, every inch of them touching. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to ever let go.

“Merry Christmas Joe.” Slowly, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek, pulling back ever so slightly. His hands still hovered around her waist, her’s still perched on his shoulders, but they stood face to face now, eyes locked and breath shared. A moments hesitation, Joe’s heart in his mouth and his blood pooling to his feet, and then she pulled away completely, sending him another soft smile as she walked out the door and unknowingly out of his life.

“Bye.”

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Authors note:

Rachel: trying to flirt

Joe: Hmm she sounds like Abby

Rachel: checking him out