by Rachel Woods
“An old friend,” he said, annoyed by the easy, flirty banter between them, as though every word wasn’t a lie; they were both lying to each other, pretending, trying to hide their lies. “Should I be jealous?”
“No, silly. My old friend is female, and she’s married to the love of her life,” Spencer said. “But if she met you, she’d be jealous of me.”
“Well, the game should be fun.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I’m not a huge basketball fan. Mainly, we just wanted to get together, and I think her boss gave her the tickets and her husband couldn’t go, so she invited me, and I haven’t seen her in forever, so…”
He nodded again, hating how easily the lies rolled off her tongue and how plausible they sounded. “Well, it’s been sort of a long day, and I’m going to take a shower. Wanna join me?”
“Of course, I do,” she said and then gave him a kiss that made him forget about all the lies and deception, a kiss that almost made him want to abandon the plan he’d concocted in order to find out exactly whom she was meeting with on Thursday to make the exchange.
Pulling away, she said, “But you go ahead. I want to look around for the earring for a few more minutes.”
Ten minutes later, she joined him beneath the steamy, hot spray falling from the large, rectangular ceiling-mounted shower head. “I found it,” she said, smiling as she tilted her head back, allowing the water to rain on her skin. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he stared at her, amazed by her beauty.
While waiting for her, he had thought about his plans for Thursday night. The dinner meeting in Dallas was a lie he hadn’t wanted to tell, but he thought it might be better if Spencer wouldn’t be looking over her shoulder, afraid he might accidentally discover her schemes. If she thought he was four hours away, in Dallas, she probably wouldn’t bother to cover her tracks or employ any stealth moves designed for confusion and misdirection.
Now she was with him, naked and exquisite, her arms wrapped around him, and once again, the lies didn’t seem to matter, didn’t bother him so much. Still, as he bent his head to kiss her, he wondered if all the old doubts and the suspicions would return.
He picked her up and she wrapped her slick legs around his waist. Lowering her onto him, he hoped they wouldn’t be destroyed by the truth she hid from him or the secrets he could never tell her.
6
Houston, Texas
Interstate 45
“This is a nice car,” Peter Rios exclaimed, impressed by the Italian sedan as he settled into the plush leather seat of the Maserati. “You gotta let me drive this bitch.”
“That won’t be happening,” Sione said, steering away from the passenger pick-up lane at Hobby Airport. An hour ago, Peter had landed in Houston, via Southwest Airlines. “Traffic in Houston is brutal. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
Peter laughed.
Leaving the airport, Sione took a side street toward the interstate.
Accelerating into the brutality, he sped around several slower moving cars and then found an opening between an SUV and a Ford F-350, slipping through it and onto the entrance ramp that fed into I-45.
His plans for tomorrow night called for precise execution. Sione knew he couldn’t pull it off alone. Thinking through the logistics, he’d realized he would need help. His cousin, Peter Rios, wasn’t the best choice, but Sione’s only other option had been DJ’s little brother, Micah, who couldn’t hold water in a bucket, so asking him was out of the question. Last thing Sione wanted was a call from DJ, and possibly Jared, demanding to know why he was following Spencer. Because unlike Peter, who wouldn’t be able to put two and two together and come up with four, Micah was sly and nosy and would most likely figure out the reason for the surveillance job Sione needed done.
Micah was persistent and didn’t respond well to threats, but Sione knew he could intimidate Peter. The promise of a thorough and complete ass-kicking would keep Peter from asking too many questions and guarantee his silence regarding the assignment.
As Peter checked his iPhone, Sione accelerated into the flow of chaotic traffic on the interstate.
“Hey, I wanted to ask you…” Peter started.
“What?” Sione maneuvered around a slower car and then changed lanes.
Peter asked, “Have you heard from Moana?”
“Moana is dead.” Sione gripped the wheel and focused on the traffic, but his heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest through his mouth. “I thought you knew that.”
“She’s not dead.”
“What do you mean, she’s not dead?” Sione asked, trying to sound skeptical, hoping his tone didn’t betray any guilt or fear. “She was stabbed during a prison riot.”
“That’s what the prison guards thought,” Peter said, a hint of conspiracy in his voice, slightly lowered. “But now they’re not sure that it was Moana who died. Didn’t Jared tell you?”
“No,” Sione replied. Jared had been too busy warning him to stay away from Spencer, too busy suggesting some relationship between Spencer and Ben. A connection some desperate, lying criminal had been able to convince Jared was true because his cousin wanted to believe the worst about Spencer.
“Well, the prison thinks her cellmate was stabbed,” Peter said. “They think Moana escaped.”
The whole ‘Moana gets stabbed to death in a violent prison riot’ plot was Richard’s bright idea.
“The prison officials are trying to track her down,” Peter went on. “They talked to everybody who had visited her before she supposedly died in that prison riot.”
Richard came to visit me in prison. He wanted me to steal an envelope for him.
“And I was on the list,” Peter said, grudging contrition in his tone.
“Yeah, I know,” Sione said, still upset.
Peter cleared his throat. “Look, about that—”
“Peter, I don’t care, okay?” Sione said. “I didn’t ask you to fly down here to discuss Moana.”
Nodding, Peter asked, “So, what’s this job you need me to do?”
“Need you to follow someone,” he said before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, and the absurd hypocrisy of it, and before he had a chance to change his mind and convince himself that Spencer’s meeting at the Toyota Center tomorrow night didn’t matter.
Peter said, “So, who’s the person you want me to follow?”
Sione sighed. “Not sure yet.”
“You’re not sure?”
“The way I’m hoping it will work is that when I figure it out I’ll follow this person to their vehicle, which will probably be parked on a surface lot, or maybe in a garage, near the Toyota Center,” Sione said. “Once I determine the make and model of the car, you need to be ready to go, following that vehicle to its final destination. Once you determine that, you text me the location. Then, you can drive to Hobby Airport, leave the car at the rental company, and fly back to Sarasota.”
“I can handle that,” Peter said. “So…this person you want me to follow? It’s not Spencer, is it?”
“I said I don’t know who the person is yet, remember?” Sione said. After a moment of silence that felt a bit too tense, he spoke again. “Let me ask you—why do you think I would want you to follow Spencer?”
“Don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “Guess ’cause Aunt Carmen and my mom think Spencer’s a liar and a gold digger and she's going to use you. Aunt Carmen thinks Spencer is going to get pregnant, and—”
Sione scoffed. “Spencer is not going to get pregnant.”
“But she could,” Peter said. “I know you gotta be hitting that every night.”
Sighing, Sione said, “She’s on birth control.”
“Birth control don’t always work,” Peter said, as though he knew a thing, or three, about it.
“Peter, shut up,” Sione said. “Spencer is not going to get pregnant, my mother is worrying for nothing.
After a few moments of silence, Peter asked, “You wanna have kids?”
“What?” Sione hesitated, not sure how to answer. He hadn’t really thought about having kids. But he wanted children, and he wanted to have them with the woman he planned to spend the rest of his life with—Spencer. “Yeah. Someday. Why?”
“Just asking because you and Spencer would probably make a good-looking kid,” Peter went on. “That’s what my mom said. I think Aunt Carmen slapped her for saying that.”
“Anyway,” Sione said, pushing thoughts of pregnancy and kids from his mind, “I booked you a room at the Marriott near the Toyota Center. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to bring over a rental car. We’ll drive around so you can familiarize yourself with the streets around the Toyota Center. The streets downtown are all one way, so you will need to know what street you can turn on but you can't turn down, stuff like that.
“That’s cool,” Peter said, nodding. “I can actually get started tonight. You know, take a walk around the place.”
“Good idea,” Sione said. “In the morning, we can check out the surface lots and parking garages near the Toyota Center.”
Disconcerted, Sione exited the freeway, taking the curving ramp into downtown Houston.
Peter’s question about Spencer having his child had rattled him. Sione knew why though he tried to pretend he didn’t. He didn’t know how he felt about starting a family with a woman with so many secrets. How could he have kids with a woman he was keeping secrets from? How could they bring a child into the middle of all the secrets between them?
7
Houston, Texas
Interstate 45
As the cab sped along I-45, Spencer sat rigid against the leather seat and placed her palm over her abdomen, trying to relax. “Well, little one,” she whispered under her breath, glancing out the back passenger window at the dusky, indigo sky, “Mama found the burner phone, thank God. The evil, twisted monster had sent her a text with instructions on where to meet him, but Mama couldn’t remember the time, place, or date because Mama has pregnancy brain.”
At least, Spencer thought she did. But maybe not. Was it too early in her first trimester to be so spastic and forgetful? She couldn’t remember. She’d read something about it on some pregnancy website, after her fourth home pregnancy test had turned out to be positive, but there had been so much information on the site, too much.
Overwhelmed, and still in shock, Spencer hadn’t been able to deal with what to expect now that she was expecting. Pregnant. The word nearly made her knees buckle. Spencer still couldn’t believe it. Didn’t seem real. Or possible. Or plausible. How the hell had she gotten pregnant? She was on birth control, took the pill every day, and never skipped or forgot it. But she and John didn’t use condoms, and he never pulled out, so she supposed that one of those times they’d fallen into that one percent.
Rubbing her stomach, Spencer sighed. She needed to find out how far along she was. Finding a doctor, and making an appointment, was on her list of things to do. She also wanted to get some prenatal vitamins, and…
And, most importantly, she had to tell John about the little one growing inside her.
But how could she? She still wasn’t sure how she felt about being pregnant, becoming a mother. One moment, she was frazzled and terrified at the idea of another person living and breathing within her, and the next, the astonishing miracle of it would flood her entire body with joy and love.
Spencer cradled her stomach. Could she actually be a mother? Could she take care of a baby? Could she raise a child? It wouldn’t be like the time she spent with John’s second cousins. She loved those little girls like they were her own, but she wasn’t responsible for them. They weren’t depending on her for love, affection, nurturing, and everything else her own baby would require and deserve.
“Time for Mama to finally get the monster out of her life, and once he’s finally gone,” she said, “Mama can tell Daddy about you and…”
She stopped, tears threatening. She didn’t know how to tell John about the baby. She knew she couldn’t keep it from him. She would, sooner rather than later, have to let him know she was carrying his child. But she was hesitant, reluctant, and terrified because…what would John think?
She and John had never talked about wanting kids. He had always been very loving and affectionate with his little second cousins, the caramel faeries. But that didn’t mean he wanted his own kids. And really, the question wasn’t did John want children. The question was did John want kids with her? Did John want her to be the mother of his children?
Would he be upset about the baby? His family thought she’d been planning all along to get pregnant and trap him into marriage. And what if, after they were married, she turned into her mother and become “that wife”? What if—
Pushing the troublesome thoughts away, Spencer grabbed the blue Birkin and put it on her lap. “One thing at a time,” she said to herself. First, give Ben the damn envelope and get him out of her life. Then, find a way, somehow, to tell John about the baby and pray that he would be happy and excited and not upset with her.
“Don’t worry, little one,” she said, leaning her head back and moving her hand across her stomach as the cab continued down the freeway. “I know Daddy will love you as much as I do…”
The Toyota Center, one of the city’s main sports and entertainment complexes, loomed impressively at the intersection of Polk and La Branch in downtown Houston, dominating the entire southeast corner with glowing red neon signage and bright lights casting wide swatches of illumination across the four-lane streets.
Sione turned the SUV into a surface lot, diagonally across from the venue, on the northwest corner. After paying the attendant twenty bucks, he steered the SUV around the lot, careful to avoid the potholes and cracks in the concrete, searching for a space. Sione pulled into a slot on the first row of spaces and then killed the ignition of the SUV, a rental he’d picked up earlier in the day, about an hour after he’d kissed Spencer goodbye…
Dressed in business casual attire, he’d stood in the foyer, one hand clutching the handle of his Hermes briefcase and, the other planted on Spencer’s ass as he bent his head to press his mouth against hers. A Judas kiss, he couldn’t help but thinking, knowing she thought he was heading to the airport to fly to Dallas. His guilt was tempered, though, because she was lying to him, as well.
True, she was going to a Rockets game, but it wasn’t to meet some old high school friend.
From the glove compartment, Sione took out a pair of small binoculars and then opened the driver’s window. Sounds of revelry floated across the street, wafting on the humid breeze. Pressing his skull against the headrest, he closed his eyes, trying to come to terms with his current situation.
How the hell had he gotten to the point where he was sitting in an SUV in the dark, clutching a pair of binoculars, spying on his girlfriend like some jealous fool? But he wasn’t hoping to catch Spencer with some secret lover. The plan he’d orchestrated didn’t have anything to do with a public confrontation, complete with cursing and wild accusations, a shameful spectacle that people would hold up their smartphones to video and then later post to a dozen different social media sites.
Opening his eyes, Sione took a breath. Trying to combat the surreal feelings and frustration, he thought about the events of the day from the moment after he’d kissed Spencer and walked out of the house.
Despite a pounding heart and a twisting stomach, he’d managed to get into his Maserati and navigate out of the neighborhood. Heading away from the interstate, he drove to a parking garage near Woodlands Square, an upscale shopping village. He headed toward a Starbucks, sat at one of the small bistro tables outside, and called a rental car service. Twenty minutes later, he was behind the wheel of a mid-sized SUV, his head pounding as he drove back to the gated community.
He parked about fifty feet away from the house he shared with Spencer. It wasn’t a secluded place to wait, but the SUV was a Range Rover, and he figured he wouldn’t raise any suspicions with the security detail that
regularly patrolled the neighborhood.
About an hour later, just after the sun had set, a cab pulled into the curving, circular driveway, and Spencer walked out, wearing a form-fitting tee shirt, jeans and a baseball cap. Rockets attire, he noted, so she’d blend in with the other fans.
Once downtown, the cab pulled up to the curb directly in front of the entrance of the Toyota Center. Spencer had gotten out, clutching a large purse, the blue Hermes bag. According to the AM station broadcasting the game, four minutes remained until the end of the fourth quarter. The game wasn’t officially over, but lots of fans had already begun the mass exodus, streaming out of the venue in an effort to get ahead of the traffic on the major highways heading out to the suburbs.
More than once, while Sione followed the cab along the interstate, the urge to stop the cab came over him. He struggled to remain behind the bright yellow van, wrestling with thoughts of somehow speeding alongside the cab and forcing it over to the shoulder. After jumping out of the SUV and into the yellow cab, Sione imagined himself coming clean with Spencer, convincing her that she needed to let him help her.
If he did that, he would have to tell her the truth about his own connection to Ben.
He might have to tell her how he planned to deal with the situation. He wasn’t sure if she would go along with his plan. Spencer wouldn’t like his idea, which involved confronting whomever Ben was sending to meet her and stealing the item she owed Ben. Then Sione would demand a meeting with Ben. He saw himself saying something like you tell Ben Chang that if he wants this, he needs to come and get it from me.
The item Ben wanted would be used to lure the bastard into a trap. Sione had no doubt that Ben would meet him, and when they came face to face, Sione was going to kill him.
He still wasn’t at peace with the decision he’d come to, but he wasn’t willing to change his mind. The plan was ambitious and dangerous. Something he had to do.