The Heart Stoppers

IRREGARDLESS

"Yeah, Jerry," I mumble as I haul out my suitcase, grabbing Tigger from his carrier. "Yeah, yeah... We'll be coming back soon... Yes, Jerry... Listen I'll notify you then. Yes good, okay? Bye."

I hadn't even given him a chance to talk. All he needed to know was that we were in Ironwood, Michigan and that we'd be coming back.

"He's worried?" Zack asks from behind me as he carries four cases of luggage and weapons with ease up the stone path to Rocky's old exotic lodge.

There were vast windows to overlook the lake behind the warm home. The rest of the building was made of intricately pieced dark wood that complemented the forest landscape around it. It was only one story, but that gave it such a cozy feeling that I always loved so much about it.

"Absolutely mortified," I say, copying his accent as I shove the key into the lock. "But he'll get over it. We're just staying here a couple days while we sort out some more missions and make sure Adeline's off our tail."

I open the door to be met with the expansive living area that includes a fireplace as the centerpiece with an assortment of couches and sofas surrounding it. To the left sits an island with a wood paneled kitchen. The house extends on either side, a hallway on each. The right side leads to the master bathroom with two bedrooms. The left leads to the laundry room and Rocky's old office as well as the door to the garage that leads to the Underground Interstate.

We each set down our bags and return to the car to grab another load before settling in the living room after our long night. I sit on the brown leather love seat with the files of the next two men on our list on my lap while Zack looks over the last one in the recliner that matches the love seat. He fidgets many times in his seat; I can tell that he's itching to say something, but he doesn't. I tuck my feet up beside me, and Tigger then decides to settle in the space between my feet and ass.

"What is it?" I ask in a monotonous voice as I continue to flip through the papers and he continues to shift around.

"Uh," he's caught off guard. "Um, I just... This place looks really lived in. And uh, just... Who-who lives here?"

I smile to myself, letting my eyes glide around the living room before focusing on the fire in the fireplace.

"I do now. This was Rocky's house; I assume you had already concluded that. But I hire someone to come in and clean every month or so. This is my house in the Midwest. If you've ever heard the boys talk about 'the cabin,' that's this place."

"So this was Rocky's?" he peers at me while I keep my gaze on the fire.

I nod, "For the entire duration of my training, we lived here. Then, when I was done and officially in Club, we moved to his New York estate; it was in the forest too, outside any cities."

He hums in understanding as he begins to study his file again. I shift the files off my lap and stand, this catching his attention.

"C'mon, I want to show you something," I say as I adjust the ring on my middle finger.

"Is it wrong that I'm worried?" he questions as he stands as well and begins to follow me down the hall. "I mean, the last time you said that, I ended up vomiting from the formaldehyde."

I scoff, "You were fine."

The door to Rocky's office creaks open as I turn the knob. The same smell is still there: old books with a hint of burning wood. I find myself letting a smile cross my lips at the sight of the cramped office. He had stacked filing cabinets upon filing cabinets that covered nearly the whole expanse of wall space. On his white oak desk were three picture frames: one of his last fiancee, one of himself in the team of SP from 1968, and one of him and me on the day of my induction. Back then, being inducted was a bigger deal than we make it now. I was dressed in a long, flowing white dress, diamonds hung from my neck and wrists, and my hair done up with baby's breath, my favorite flower, weaved in. I looked so young, and Rocky did too. After all, this was over fifteen years ago.