Bryers joined them as they gathered together at the bench. He then reached into his pocket and withdrew the five hundred dollars that he had been holding for them – cash they had all contributed to the pot. He handed it over to Mackenzie and said:
“Was there really ever any doubt, guys?”
“Good work, Mac,” Cousins said. “I’d rather it was you take me out than one of these jokers.”
“Thanks, I think,” Mackenzie said.
“I hate to sound like an old fart,” Bryers said, “but it’s nearly one in the morning. Get home and get some rest. All of you. Please don’t come to graduation all tired and out of it.”
That bizarre feeling of happiness spread through Mackenzie again. This was her group of friends – a group of friends she had come to know well ever since returning to a somewhat normal life following McGrath’s little experiment with her nine weeks ago.
Tomorrow, they’d all be graduating from the academy, and, if everything shook out the way it was supposed to, they’d all be agents within the following week. While Harry, Cousins, and Shawn had no delusions about starting their careers off on illustrious cases, Mackenzie had more to look forward to…namely, the special group of agents McGrath had mentioned to her in the days following her last unexpected case. She still had no idea what that entailed, but she was excited about it nonetheless.
As their small group broke up and went on their separate ways, Mackenzie felt something else that she had not felt in quite some time. It was the sense that the future was still very much ahead of her, still unfolding and within her reach. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt like she had a great deal of control over the direction in which it was headed.
Mackenzie looked at the bruise on Harry’s chest and even though she knew her first emotion should have been compassion, she couldn’t help but laugh. The place where she had hit him was flaming red, the irritation spreading about two inches in all directions. It looked very much like a bee sting and, she knew, hurt much worse.
They were standing in her kitchen and she was wrapping an ice pack in a dishcloth for him. She handed it to him and he held it there comically. It was clear that he was embarrassed but also touched that she had invited him back to make sure he was okay.
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “But you know, maybe I can take you out for coffee on the winnings.”
“That must be some damn good coffee,” Harry said. He drew the ice pack away from his chest and scrunched up his nose when he looked down to the spot.
As Mackenzie watched him, she realized that although he had been to her apartment more than a dozen times and they had kissed on a few occasions, this was the first time he’d ever had his shirt off in her apartment. It was also the first time since Zack that she had seen a man this close to her partially undressed. Maybe it was the adrenaline from winning the contest or because of graduation tomorrow, but she liked it.
She stepped forward and placed her hand on the unharmed side of his chest, over his heart. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, stepping even closer.
“Not right now,” he said, grinning nervously.
She slowly slid her hand over to the mark and touched it gingerly. Then, working only on the female instincts she had long ago shoved down and replaced with obligation and boredom, she leaned in and kissed it. She felt him tense up immediately. Her hand then found his side, pulling him closer to her. She kissed his collarbone, then the base of his shoulder, then his neck. He sighed and drew her even closer.
As was usually the case with them, they were kissing one another before either of them knew what was happening. It had only happened four previous times but each time, it had occurred like some force of nature, something unplanned and without any expectations.
It took less than ten seconds before he had her pressed lightly against the kitchen counter. Her hands explored his chest while his left hand found its way up her shirt. Her heart hammered in her chest and every muscle in her body told her that she wanted him, that she was ready for this.
They’d come close before – twice before, actually. But on both occasions, they had cut it off. Actually, she had stopped it. The first time, she had put an end to it just as he had started fumbling with the button on her pants. The second time, he’d been pretty drunk and she’d been far too sober. Neither of them had ever stated as such, but the hesitancy to sleep together came down to a mutual respect for one another and an uncertainty for the future. Also, she thought far too much of Harry to simply use him as a sexual release. She was growing more and more attracted to him, but sex had always been a very private matter. Before Zack, there had only been two men, and one of those had essentially been an issue of assault rather than mutual sex.
As all of this rocketed through her head while kissing Harry, she realized that her hands were now much lower than his chest. He apparently noticed this, too; he tensed up again and drew in a sharp breath.
She pulled her hands away suddenly and broke the kiss. She looked down to the floor, afraid that she’d see disappointment in his eyes.
“Wait,” she said. “Harry…I’m sorry…I can’t – ”
“I know,” he said, clearly a little frustrated and out of sorts. “I know it’s – ”
Mackenzie took one large collective breath and then stepped away from him. She turned away, unable to handle the confusion and hurt in his eyes. “We can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, still clearly flustered. “Tomorrow is a big day and it’s late. So I’m going to go before I have time to care that I’ve been shot down yet again.”
She turned back around to face him and nodded. She didn’t mind the barbed comments. She sort of deserved them.
“That might be for the best,” she said.
Harry slid his shirt back on, complete with splattered paint, and slowly headed for the door. “Good job tonight,” he said as he left. “There wasn’t any doubt you’d come out the winner.”
“Thanks,” Mackenzie said, without much expression. “And Harry…really, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s stopping me.”
He shrugged as he opened the door. “It’s okay,” he said. “Just…I can’t really do this much longer.”
“I know,” she said sadly.
“Goodnight, Mac.”
He closed the door and Mackenzie was left alone. She stood in the kitchen, looking at the clock. It was 1:15 and she wasn’t remotely tired. Maybe the little exercise at Hogan’s Alley had driven too much adrenaline into her bloodstream.
Still, she tried going to bed but spent most of the night tossing and turning. In some sort of half-sleep state, she had dreams she barely remembered, but the one consistent thing to each of them was the face of her father, smiling, proud of her that she had made it this far – that she was graduating from the academy tomorrow.
But despite that smile, there was another consistent thing to the dreams, something she had long ago gotten used to as a frequent haunt once the lights went out and sleep came: the dead stare in his eyes and all of the blood.
CHAPTER TWO
Even though Mackenzie had set her alarm for eight o’clock, she was stirred awake by the vibrating of her cell phone at 6:45. She groaned as she came awake. If this is Harry, apologizing for something he didn’t even do, I’m going to kill him, she thought. Still half-asleep, she grabbed her phone and read the display through hazy eyes.
She was relieved to see that it wasn’t Harry, but Colby.
Puzzled, she answered it. Colby was not traditionally an early riser and they hadn’t spoken in over a week. Anal retentive to the core, Colby was probably just freaking out about graduation and the uncertainty of the future. Colby was the one female friend Mackenzie had here in Quantico, so she had done whatever she