Ella

Ella laughs at the hand that reaches over the top of the book she was reading. She glances up beneath her glasses at her boyfriend, Mike. She becomes aware of where they are again.

He smiles back at her and kisses the top of her head. “I ordered your favorite, white mocha latte.” He sits in the chair across from her, careful not to bump into the person behind him in the busy coffee shop. The smell of roasting coffee beans tickles her nose.

She chuckles and places a fold in the page of her book. “I ‘spose that means I should put this down.” Ella grabs one of his hands and looks around the bustling shop. College kids work at their computers or meet with friends. She looks back at the man she’s been seeing for close to five months now. They basically live together as she’s been staying at his apartment now for a couple months. He doesn’t have any roommates so it’s been so nice.

“So are you sure you don’t want to come to my family’s for Thanksgiving?” He asks again for probably the ninth time.

Ella rolls her eyes and looks around uncomfortably. “We have been over this so many times now. I just…want to go at a slow pace.”

“Babe.” He interrupts. “We have been together for awhile now and I want my family to know you. My mom keeps asking questions and she knows you’ve been staying with me already. What are you worried about?”

“White chocolate latte and pumpkin spice latter for Mike.” Yells out the barista.

“I’ll be right back.” He gets up quickly and walks over to the counter.

Ella watches him go and awareness hits her belly when he keeps smiling at the friendly barista. The woman hands him something that he swiftly places into his right jean pocket. Ella looks down at her book so he doesn’t catch her watching him.

Men. She thinks and catches herself before she can roll her eyes. This is exactly why she won’t meet his family. He’s a pig and this was just supposed to be casual. He happens to be the one that changed the terms.

Before he can sit down, Ella shoots from her chair and grabs her coffee. “How about we go back to your place?” She teases.

He takes the bait of course and it thankfully ends the conversation of meeting parents. His apartment isn’t far from the university thankfully and the walk is short.

Before anything can start as they walk through the door however, Mike’s phone rings. A quick glance at the phone and Ella already knows. “I know, I know, it’s work.” She walks into the bedroom, leaving him to his conversation.

She sits on the bed and pulls out her laptop. She begins working on her own work; life of an English college major never stops. She looks up as the shadow hits the doorway a few minutes later. “I need to take a rain check on that.” He has that look on his face, the one full of guilt that he’s once again being called away.

“It’s fine.” Ella gets up from the bed and smooches his cheek and nimbly pulls the paper from his left jean pocket. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

He’s wearing a shit-eating grin when he finally exits the apartment. The smile that matched his on Ella’s face completely disappears and she starts stretching her jaw.

She pulls her cell phone from her back pocket and calls the number left on the slip of paper the barista gave Mike. The ring feels her ear as she starts packing up her laptop. It only rings twice. “Reset your password.” The man commands.

“Ella Jean’s coming home.” She cracks her neck.

She starts walking out of the apartment and waits for confirmation. “Password reset confirmed. En route to you now.”

She presses the red button as she quickly begins to remove her make up and wig. She throws it in the trashcan next to the stairway and all but jumps in the ford pick-up. “Where to now?” She asks her handler.

“Mike has been apprehended at the drop, 23 bodies were en route.” He answers in lieu of her question.

“Not surprised, he used that apartment as a way to scope the victims out.” She undoes the braids on top of her head before opening her new file. “Sunny Hancock of Arcata, California, 23 years old, waitress at Cheescake Palace? You gotta be kidding me.” She looks over at Peter who has been her handler for five years.

“Nope. You’re going to be a ginger with pretty freckles for however long it takes to find the next asshole.” He swerves the truck, narrowly missing a minivan.

“I forgot how much you drive like shit.” She stretches her jaw. “Thirteen missing kids in Littleton, Colorado in the last two months. Of course, from poor backgrounds. Same shit, different day.” She reads through the debrief. “How long do I have?”

“She wants you out of their in four months tops.” He answers.

Sunny clicks her tongue. “Understood.”