Audition - Skye Warren, Amelia Wilde Page 0,43
open another can of the shittiest beer known to mankind. His gulps are loud enough to make a squirrel nearby screech itself into action and get the fuck away from us. Connor crushes the can in his fist, tips his head back, and howls.
“Shut the fuck up.” Caleb shoves the boat up onto a rise in the ground. We used it to get over some of the deeper parts of the swamp. The damn thing can barely stay above water. Sets my teeth on edge. “You’re going to scare the ducks away.” His eyes linger on me when he turns around and lifts his gun out of the bottom of the boat.
“Sorry, boss.” Connor pastes on a shit-eating grin. “Just trying to bring the boys up to speed. Things are happening, if you know what I mean.”
Caleb smirks. “You think we’re going to be smuggling anything out here in the damn swamp? They’ll learn on the job. Settle the fuck down and shoot some ducks.”
He checks his ammo.
I pretend to take another swig of beer. There’s not a chance in hell I’m actually going to drink out here, away from witnesses. I can feel Caleb’s eyes tracking me and make sure to make the next swallow obvious. He doesn’t trust me completely. Not yet. I’m still the new guy. It’s a sensible way to do business.
I don’t trust him at all. Honestly, I won’t be shocked if this ends with a bullet in my back and a quick descent to the bottom of the swamp. I wouldn’t be the first guy to go out that way. Bodies have a way of disappearing in the bayou. Some of them resurface in parts. Some of them never resurface at all.
My one pang of regret is that I didn’t go and see Bethany before this boys’ night out. It makes no fucking sense, because she’s not mine.
I aim my gun to the horizon. A movement in the brush. A duck flies through the trees. It’s right between my crosshairs… I move an inch to the right and pull the trigger. A loud blast. The duck flies away. “Damn,” I say, my voice flat.
“Nice try,” Caleb says, sounding smug.
He wants to be the best shot here. I could say that’s why I missed on purpose, but the truth is, I don’t have the heart for killing at the moment. I’m sick and fucking tired of it. Maybe that’s why I agreed to it when my commander sat me down with someone from the CIA. We’ve been looking into Caleb Lewis. You’re in a unique position to get information for us. There’s a commendation in it for you. And if you’re interested, a job with us. Who exactly are you? That’s what I asked. Get the information. Then we’ll talk. So who the fuck knows? Someone who gathers information instead of dodging bombs in the middle of the fucking desert, so yeah, I’m interested.
A fly buzzes by my ear, and I swat it away. Water sloshes against Caleb’s boots. He stands shoulder to shoulder with me. How far is he going to take this? Is he going to sling an arm around my shoulders and welcome me into the fold?
Jesus. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fake my enthusiasm if he does.
“Connor’s right.” He trains his gun out over the surface of the water and looks through the scope. “We’ve got a good fucking system. And at our level, very few people are paying attention. They underestimate us, don’t they?”
Caleb thinks we’re all just above grunts. We’ve got enough access to get to the weaponry, and he’s scraped together enough trust to rob the United States Army blind.
Noah wades past us, a wad of chew in his cheek. He wades a respectable distance before he spits into the water at his feet. Caleb and I shift forward to get in a line with him. Better this way. If one of them is going to shoot me tonight, I’ll see it coming. Not that it’ll make any difference. I think about Bethany’s smile, flashing white in the starlit darkness of her grandmother’s backyard. I wonder if she knows where I am tonight. If she’ll think anything of it if I don’t come back. Morbid shit.
“It’ll be more lucrative now that you’re on board,” Caleb adds.
“Good. I’m not going to help you out of the fucking kindness of my heart.”
A chuckle. “Kindness of your heart. That’s a good one, North.”
Caleb is right about that. I had