He nods again. “He wanted her out of the way so she wouldn’t ruin his chances of winning you back.”
I yank one of my hands out of his, pressing my palm over my mouth. Nausea swims up my throat, and I think I might puke.
“I know what you’re thinking, and this isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it?” I rise and start pacing the room. “If she’d never met me, then she’d never have met him. She’d still be alive.”
“Stop.” He stands in front of me and reels me into his arms, bundling me into his warm, strong embrace. “You didn’t compel her to get involved with him, and you didn’t abduct and kill her. Hayley’s choices led to this. Not you.” He holds the back of my head, keeping me tucked against his chest where I feel safe.
Silence descends, and we stay wrapped in our embrace, both of us locked in our own heads.
“Is there anything to connect her to Dan? Was there any incriminating evidence found?” I ask the question even though I already know the answer.
“Unfortunately not,” he says in a clipped tone. I know how hard Kev’s working to find something to stick to Dan but, so far, he’s squeaky clean.
I sigh heavily, trying to stay strong, but I’d be lying if I said this hadn’t shaken me. Since I discovered who Dan really is, I’ve been frightened although I haven’t expressed that thought out loud. I know Kev will go to the ends of the Earth to protect me, and I’ve always believed that Dan wouldn’t hurt me, but now I’m not so sure.
He may not have loved Hayley, but he still spent time with her. Still made love to her. Bought her expensive gifts indicating she was on his mind. If he can do that to her, he can do that to me, and that’s what scares me.
“I want to help,” I say, easing out of his embrace and looking up at him. “Whatever it is your boss wants me to do, I’m doing it. We’ve got to stop him, Kev. We can’t live with this hanging over our heads.”
“I know, but I’m not sure how you can help. Let’s just talk to the SSA and see what he has in mind.”
“Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” Kev roars, jumping up and knocking his chair over. This time we’re talking with Supervisory Special Agent Clement in his office. Just Kev, me, and him.
“Keven.” I tug on his arm, urging him to calm down. He can’t speak to his boss like that even if he has just dropped a bomb on both of us.
“No way! She’s not doing it! And I can’t believe you’ve asked her to!” He grabs fistfuls of his hair and starts pacing the room.
I get up and go to him, forcing him to stop and placing my hands on his waist. “Keven, sit back down, and let’s just hear SSA Clement out.”
He grips my face tight. “You’re not doing it. It’s too dangerous.”
I draw deep breaths, determined to keep a cool head. “No one has agreed to anything. Let’s hear the facts, and then we can consider it. Please, baby,” I whisper at the end.
I don’t want to be the reason he loses this job.
He presses his forehead to mine, his chest heaving, and I am floored, once again, by the evidence of his love for me. I’ll never take it for granted. Not when I thought I’d lost it, and him, forever.
He composes himself, keeping hold of my hand as we reclaim our seats.
“I don’t ask this lightly of you, Cheryl,” the SSA says, focusing on me, “but we are running out of options. We still haven’t figured out how Stanten is getting supplies of guns, drugs, and young girls into the country, because any leads our undercover agents have picked up have been dead ends. We suspect he’s on to us, which is why we’ve pulled our guys out; however, we’re fairly certain he’s hiding at least some of those things in that barn.”
I shudder at the thought of kidnapped girls being kept in that barn while I slept only a couple of miles away. It makes me sick to the pit of my stomach.
The SSA leans forward on his elbows. “We know there’s another entrance on that property, and we expect that’s how Stanten is getting away with this, but we can’t locate it. The old maps of the property show an entrance at the northwesterly side of the grounds, just off the smaller slip road, but it’s not visible from the road, and we can’t go snooping around without drawing attention. The drones haven’t picked up any activity, which leads us to believe it’s some kind of underground entrance. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“Or he’s not transporting anything to that barn,” Kev interrupts.
“I know you don’t believe that, Keven.” The SSA drills him with a serious look. “Criminals don’t appoint armed guards to an empty barn.”
“There’s got to be another way.” Keven claws his hands through his hair, and frustration oozes from his pores.
“We’ve spent weeks brainstorming it, and there isn’t. The old plans of the house clearly show underground tunnels, and that’s why we need to get in there and see if we can locate them.”
“I didn’t see any evidence of that while I lived there,” I admit with a frown. “And Dan never mentioned a word to me about them.”
“I doubt he would, but I assure you they do exist. The original owner built the house during the prohibition era, and he became one of Boston’s most notorious bootleggers.”
“Dan said he gutted the house and pretty much rebuilt it from scratch,” I continue, “so I wouldn’t bank on any of those tunnels still being in existence.”
“You may be right, Cheryl. It could be another dead end. But we’ve got to try.” He slides a paper file across the desk to me. “Those are copies of email communications between the realtor and your ex-fiancé. The realtor said he was very keen to get his hands on the property, even offering an additional ten percent above the agreed price to close the sale quickly. I believe Stanten’s decision to purpose that property was strategic. He wanted those tunnels.”
Unease slithers over my body like fog. “Can’t you verify it with the contractor who worked on the house?” I suggest.
“We can’t play that angle,” Kev replies. “Because the contractors are in Mancusso’s pocket. They’ll tell us jack shit, and we can’t risk approaching them either. If Stanten discovers the FBI is on the case he’ll re-strategize, making our job even harder.”
“But I thought you said you had to pull your undercover guys out because of that very thing?” I direct my question to the SSA.
“We think Stanten knows someone is sniffing around, but it could be any number of government agencies or a plant from one of their enemies. We’re confident he has no idea we’re building a case against him.”
Except for the corrupt judge. I think it but don’t say it because I’m not supposed to know anything about that. I don’t know how Kev deals with this stuff. All the unknowns would drive me demented, and constantly running into brick walls would deplete my patience reserves. Kev clearly has a higher tolerance than me.
“I can see where you’re coming from,” I add, eyeballing Kev’s boss. “Getting into the house is the only way to prove or disprove the tunnel theory. I understand why you need me,” I quietly add, not wanting to light Kev’s fuse.
“It doesn’t have to be Cheryl,” Keven says in a restrained tone of voice. “Why can’t you send in your undercover guys under false pretenses. Let them snoop around.”
“Stanten is too smart for that old ruse,” the SSA says. “He’ll immediately smell a rat. Besides, it could take some time to locate the tunnel entry points, and it requires someone with unfettered access to the property.”
“He’ll smell a rat if Cheryl does a U-turn all of a sudden,” Kev says, challenging his boss with a heated stare. “She broke things off weeks ago, and she’s been rejecting all his advances. He’ll be suspicious as fuck.”
“Agreed, which is why this will have to happen gradually.”
Kev shakes his head repeatedly. “No way. Cheryl’s not dating him again just so she can get access
to that house. It’s too fucking dangerous.”
“I know you’re concerned, Keven, but we’ll keep Cheryl safe.”
“Like you kept Hayley safe?” he shouts, and I clutch onto his arm, willing him to calm down.
The SSA looks pained. “We couldn’t get to her in time, because it happened so fast, but this will be different. We’ll plan it meticulously, and Cheryl will be aware every step of the way. We’ll ensure she’s protected around the clock. Nothing will happen to her. I give you my word.”
Kev swivels in his chair, turning to face me. “I don’t want you to do this. There are too many things that could go wrong. No one can force you into doing this, so you can say no.” He grips my face. “I want you to say no.” His eyes drill into mine. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me again, and I’m invoking that promise now.”
“Kev, it’s not the same thing, and you know it. If I agree to do this, I won’t be leaving you. I’ll be pretending to date him again, but it won’t be real.”
“If he finds out, he could kill you, Cheryl. Or force you into commercial sex like Hayley.”
The team discovered Hayley had been routinely drugged and forced to have sex with different men from that seedy motel in Texas. A witness—a maintenance man at the hotel— came forward confirming he’d seen a rotation of different men going in and out of her room. He also confirmed there were at least three young girls working out of other rooms, all rented by the same man.
Of course, the ID they had on file was fake, and as the man had only ever paid cash, there was no way of tracing him that way. They had cleared out after Hayley OD’d, and that was the only reason the witness came forward. He was too scared to say anything while they were there.
“I know how to protect myself, and I can use a gun. Plus, I know what he’s capable of. Hayley didn’t have any of that knowledge which is why it was easy for them to take her.”
“It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” he snaps. “Don’t my feelings count?”
I place my hands over his. “Of course, your feelings matter, and I will take some time to think about it, but I want to help.” I peer deep into his troubled eyes. “This could put him behind bars, Kev. He could be out of our lives for good. Isn’t it worth taking a risk for that?”
“No, baby.” His eyes plead with me. “There is no risk worth taking when it comes to your life. None.”
Chapter 22
Keven
I’m tired of arguing with her. I can see it’s not going to make any difference. I was right when we were back in the SSA’s office—she’s going to agree to this madness. And I’m going to fucking lose it. I want to regret the day I agreed to join the FBI, but I can’t because it brought Cheryl back into my life—even if I now want to pummel my boss in the face until he bleeds.
“You do realize if you go ahead with this, and it works, that you’ll most likely have to go into witness protection?” I play my final card. “Is that what you want? For us to be permanently separated? To never see me or your family again?” Okay, I’m stretching a little, because there’s no way I’d let her go into witness protection without me even if we have to have a quickie wedding to ensure the protection extends to me. But it’s no word of a lie when it comes to her family.
“It won’t come to that,” she protests, knotting her hands in her lap.
“You’ll be instrumental in putting Stanten behind bars. He’s the son of the head of one of New York’s most powerful crime families. You think Mancusso’s gonna let you live if you take his son from him?”
Her hands shake, and her lower lip wobbles. I hate that I’m scaring her, but she needs a dose of reality.
“Then I’ll go into witness protection.” She stands, and a fresh layer of determination washes over her face as she walks over to me. She straddles my lap, forcing my back into the couch. “But only if you come with me. If you won’t, then I’ll take my chances. I’m not going anywhere without you.” She runs her finger through the bristle on my chin, and I know what she’s doing. Telling me I rank higher than her family. Trying to soften me up so I’ll back down.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I glare at her, fueled by frustration. “You’d sacrifice your entire future by taking a risk that might not even yield any results? Do you hear how reckless that is? If my boss is wrong, if there are no tunnels, and no underground entrance, and Stanten figures out you are spying on him, he’ll take you from me, one way or another, and I’m not okay with that Cheryl. The risk is not worth it. Please, baby.” I cup her beautiful face. “Please tell my boss to fuck off. We’ll find another way.”
“I can’t stand by while other girls are subjected to the same fate as Hayley,” she whispers. “Don’t ask me to be that selfish.”
“Self-preservation is not fucking selfish!” I roar, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “It’s survival one-oh-one.” I grip her hips, pulling her in closer to me. “Listen to me, I know you feel guilty about Hayley, but her death is not on your conscience, and neither are any other girls that have fallen under Stanten’s trap. It’s not your responsibility or your job to stop him.”
“But it’s yours.”
“Yes, it’s mine and SSA Clement’s, which is why it should be left up to us. He had no right to involve you.” I’ve a good mind to report him. If Cheryl wasn’t connected to me, I wonder would he have asked her to consider something so dangerous.
“I want to help.” Her lower lip juts out, and I recognize the tell. She’s getting ready to dig her heels in. Sliding off my lap, she sits alongside me, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. A strained sigh escapes her lips. “When I first started volunteering at the residential home, I had a student named Camila,” she starts explaining. “She was seventeen and severely troubled. She didn’t speak except through the eyes of her camera. I could see she was hurting, and I wanted to help.”
Of course, she would. Cheryl likes to fix things, and she always wants to see the best in people. It’s one of the qualities I love most about her even if it does expose her to being taken advantage of. I still wouldn’t want her to change. There are too many hardened, embittered people in the world. Cheryl’s attitude is like a breath of fresh air, and it’s a huge part of who she is. I’d never want to take that from her.
But wanting to help by putting her own life at risk is a step too far and not something I can condone or support.
“She came from a poor family in a small town in Mexico,” she continues, “which made it easy for a predator to target her. I learned her story in part from her social worker and partly from Camila, once she learned to trust me and started opening up.”
Tears stab her eyes, and I pull her into my side, unable to ignore the need to comfort her. “When an older good-looking American guy showed up in her village and started paying her attention, she was flattered. She was only thirteen, and she developed a crush on him. Rhett told her she was very pretty and she could get rich modeling in the U.S. She ran away with him because she thought she could earn enough money to provide for her family. As soon as she set foot on American soil, Rhett brought her to meet his ‘family’ which consisted of eight other young Mexican girls he’d kidnapped under false pretenses. She was shoved into a warehouse, handcuffed to a mattress, drugged, and raped by a succession of older men.”
Tears cascade down her cheeks, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight. A lump forms in the back of my throat as I listen to the rest of her story.
“She was thirteen, Kev. Thirteen.” Her voice chokes, and I press a kiss to her temple. “They destroyed her innocence, and she lost her freedom. For three years, she serviced up to twenty men a day. She was kept drugged and weak and chained to that bed for hours at a time. They moved around, settling in different locations, and her pimp would bring her to homes and hotels, forcing her to have sex with various johns. One day, she was being dragged
out of a hotel, screaming, when a woman intervened. The pimp drove off without her, and she was rescued, eventually ending up in the residential home when it was discovered the pimp had killed her family and she had no home to return to.”
She sniffles, nudging her head into my arm and looking up at me with soulful, pained eyes. “She was tormented, Keven. She couldn’t relate to any of the other kids. She’d been to hell and back trying to stay clean, and she blamed herself for her family’s deaths.” A loud sob rips from her throat. “She tried so hard, but it was all too much. She ran away one night, hitched a lift to the city, and jumped off the Tobin Bridge. Her body washed up on the shores of Mystic River a few days later. It’s been four months since it happened, and I still think about her every day.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I truly am.” I press a kiss to her temple. “I hope you don’t blame yourself for that because I know you did everything you could to help her, but sometimes, there is nothing we can do.”
She stares at me with big, glassy eyes. “I understand that, but I can do something about this, which is why I need to do it, Kev. I couldn’t help Camila, but I might be able to help stop others from being taken. Perhaps I can help rescue girls Dan’s already trafficked, and that’s why I’ve got to do this. I couldn’t bear to live with myself if I had a chance to help and I did nothing. I’m tortured with the thought he might’ve kept girls in that barn while I was sleeping a few miles away.”
I open my mouth to argue because it’s not as cut and dry as that, but she places a soft hand over my mouth. “I know you’re concerned, and I love you so much for wanting to shield me from this, but I also know you trust me and love me enough to make my own decisions.”
She sits up straighter, wiping the dampness under her eyes. “I promise I’m not leaving you, Kev, and it’s your love that’ll ensure I make it through this. I want to do it. For Camila. For my own sanity. And because it’s the right thing to do.”
Forgiving Keven: A Stand-Alone Second Chance Romance Page 18