Sucker (ON HOLD/INCOMPLETE)

2: No One Like You

I'm not a big fan of my birthday. I do, however, like gifting things to people. So here's my birthday present to you: a new chapter way ahead of my usual update pattern!

For those of you who are new to my writing, be sure to check out my other book, Troublemaker.

Song: "No One Like You" by Scorpions

______

Kota

As I stepped off the plane, I knew I already hated everything about this mission.

I hadn't even planned on accepting. When the letter arrived in the mail, I had been prepared to just throw it out. It sat opened and disregarded on a small pile of junk mail for the better part of a week. My life was well established, and I had no intention of uprooting myself, of going back to Charleston and leaving my new life behind.

But then she left.

And the only sign was a lousy note.

I could still recall the words – I'd read it through enough times that I memorized it.

My dear Kota,

There's been an emergency back home. I don't know how long I'll be gone or if I'll ever make it back to Seattle. I don't think it's fair to ask you to wait for me, so I'm letting you go.

Love always,

Sang

Suddenly, my apartment was unbearable. Everywhere I looked, I saw remnants of her. Her toothbrush in the cup, right next to mine. The drawer I'd given her, now emptied of her belongings.

So, I accepted the mission, thinking a trip home to Charleston could be just the thing to fix my head.

Then reality set in. My former team felt more like estranged brothers now. We still spoke now and again on birthdays and holidays, shared our career advancements and the like, but that was it. I couldn't imagine how we could possibly work together again after so many years apart. I hadn't seen most of them since I was seventeen.

Not everyone split apart. North and Silas had remained a team, as did Sean and Mr. Blackbourne. The rest of us, though, had all gone our separate ways, landing in different cities and careers.

I found myself with a PhD in chemistry and a job researching cancer treatment for children. Some days – most days – I found it more fulfilling than the Academy work.

I'd considered leaving for her. I could picture us in that house with the white picket fence, some kids, and a dog. Happy. I imagined us happy.

But happy was far from my mind as I walked through to the baggage claim. All I could recall was her face, the fight which split our team, and the gut-wrenching sense that something bad was lurking just around the corner.

***

My intuition never failed me.

I glared at the fluorescent sign in the window advertising "Girls, Girls, Girls." The tenth member of our ragtag team of misfits had asked us to meet her there while she wrapped up another mission.

It didn't take much imagination to guess what her job was about – I glanced at the sign above the door – One Eyed Jack's. I shuddered to think of the kind of jobs women in the Academy regularly faced.

Walking through the door, the heady scent of sex and alcohol flooded my senses. "Slow an' Easy" played on the surrounding speakers as a girl danced on the stage.

I looked to the back of the room where I knew my former team would be congregating, away from the lights and the drunken men shoving dollar bills forth. I found them in a corner booth, backs rigid, passively watching the stage – but not the girl.

There was one seat left next to Owen. I'd been the last to arrive and had drawn the short end of the stick.

I slid in next to him and their eyes turned to me. Owen spoke. "The bird wants us to request a private room after her performance. She said she'll be in as soon as she finishes this job."

I quirked a brow at him. "Why here? Why not just have us meet at the diner?"

"I suppose she found this location more convenient." He frowned imperceptibly, and I knew he was just as flummoxed as I was.

He waved at the stage. "I believe this is her first song now."

Scorpions' "No One Like You" blasted through the room, and I found my eyes drawn to the stage for the first time.

The first thing I noticed was her hair. It was long and brunette, loose curls hanging to her waist. I couldn't make out her face from the back of the club. She wore a corset – baby pink with lace detailing -with thigh-high socks and heels I thought most people would trip in. The shape of the bird's body reminded me of her, the way my hands slid across her curves as she shuddered a breath.

I rubbed a hand across my face and counted silently, willing the memories away. It was too new, too fresh, too raw.

I had loved her. I still did, really. The kind of love we had... the kind I thought we had... I wasn't sure that could ever end.

I supposed I was wrong, though. She'd made the decision for us.

The girl on the stage could dance. She was strong, moving on the pole with a silent, fluid grace, one I associated with Sang. A sharp pang stung at my heart the longer I watched, and I forced my eyes away.

She danced a few more songs. During "Pour Some Sugar on Me," she'd taken the bottle, shaken it up, and let it explode all around and over her. Under any other circumstance, I might have found it appealing – she was attractive, to be sure – but my mind was stuck in the memories of the last few months.

After her performance ended, we did as she requested (odd as it seemed) and asked for a private room. Silas's deep laugh had boomed. "What can I say? Only the best for my..." he choked on the word, "bro's bachelor party."

The bartender smiled knowingly and had a waitress escort us to the room.

***

After waiting for the better part of thirty minutes, Victor groaned. "Where is she?"

A knock sounded at the door. Four, one, three. Academy code.

The bird opened the door, then fluidly strode in.

My heart beat quickened. This couldn't be happening.

"Sang?"

My voice wasn't the only one that spoke.

Her eyes were wide, darting frantically back and forth.

Then her mouth opened, and a single syllable flowed out.

"Shit."