"I'm sure."
"I'll come back in fifteen. Need anything before I leave?"
"Nope."
"Good luck, Pidge."
Abby used the mini air horn as a thumbs-up, and I chuckled, willing to do anything to have a light moment in all of this. I closed the curtain and then the door behind me, and returned to the hall in front of the waiting room where my family was. Camille was sitting alone on a bench.
"Where is everyone?" I asked.
"The nurse brought cots. They're all sleeping in the waiting room except for Dad."
"Where's he?"
Camille nodded her head toward a birthing suite, and immediately, I heard the familiar Jim Maddox snore. He would breathe in through his nose, and then his cheeks would fill with air before it finally pushed through his lips.
"He talked them into giving him a room?"
"He was afraid his snoring would wake the kids. He insisted on having his cot out here, but the nurses caught wind of it, and you know ... Everyone loves Jim."
"Aren't you tired?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I don't think Trent wants my company."
I sat down next to her. "Cami ... you know he loves you. It's a lot to process all at once."
"I know," she said, wringing her hands. "The thing with Thomas and me ... It's been festering just beneath the surface all these years. I knew it would come out eventually, and I knew he'd be angry. I just didn't expect to feel this much guilt."
"Because you don't want to see him hurting."
"No, I don't."
I looked down at the ground. "No one's going to escape it this time."
"Have you heard from Liis? Any updates?"
"No," I said. It was the truth. I didn't need any updates. I knew exactly what was going to happen.
"They said she was flying in. Isn't that weird she would do that? While Thomas is recovering?"
"She has a new baby, and ..." I trailed off. I didn't want to lie anymore, and the worst was still ahead.
Camille grew quiet. "He didn't make it, did he? She wants to tell us in person." When I didn't answer, Camille stared at me until I faced her. "Tell me, Travis. Is he dead?"
"You want to keep more secrets from Trenton? What if he finds out you knew something about Tommy before him? Again?"
"Just tell me," she said. "I deserve to know."
"More than anyone else?"
"Trav. I've been protecting his secret for him for years."
"And look where it got you."
Camille thought about my words and sat back. She closed her eyes, appearing pained. "You're right."
I stood up, leaving Camille alone with her quiet tears. As I walked away, I was surprised to feel even heavier than before. That would have been one less person I would've had to destroy. I froze in the hallway, in front of Abby's door, realizing we would have to tell the kids. My kids. I would have to look them straight in the eye and tell them their uncle was dead.
I closed my eyes, wondering how I could ever explain why they couldn't lie later in life. How could they ever trust me after that? I pushed open the door just as Abby was screwing the lid on the milk container.
"How did it go?" I asked.
She paused. "What's wrong?"
"The kids," I said.
She jerked up. "What about the kids?"
I sighed. "Fuck. No, I'm sorry. They're fine." I sat next to her, gathering the pump and tubing in one hand, the container in the other. I kissed her forehead. "They're fine. It just hit me that we're going to have to tell the kids about Thomas."
She looked up at me, her eyes wide. "They'll be heartbroken."
"And then ... later ..."
Abby covered her eyes, and I hugged her. "I know. I'm sorry."
"They'll never trust us again."
"Maybe they'll understand."
Her eyes filled with tears for the dozenth time that morning. "Not for a long time."
The nurse knocked on the door, her short blond hair bouncing. "Good morning," she whispered.
"I couldn't get much," Abby said as I handed the nurse the equipment and container.
The nurse held it up and narrowed her eyes then smiled. "It'll do. He'll be a happy boy."
"Can we see him?" Abby asked.
"Yes," the nurse said, pointing at her. "Right after you get some rest."
"We've been trying," I said.
"Not a problem. I'll make a note. Do not disturb."
"Unless," Abby began.
"Unless something comes up. Yes, ma'am." The nurse closed the door behind her, and I settled back into the recliner.
Abby turned off the light above her, and except for the sunrise peeking through the edges of the blinds, it was dark. The birds were chirping, and I wondered if I would ever sleep again.
"I love you," Abby whispered from her bed.
I wanted to crawl into her bed with her, but the IV made that precarious. "I love you more, Pigeon."
She sighed, the bed crinkling as she settled in.
I closed my eyes, listening to Abby's breathing, the IV pump, and the obnoxious bird happily singing outside. Somehow, I slipped beneath the waves of consciousness, dreaming that I was lying next to Abby for the first time in my college apartment, wondering how in the hell I was going to keep her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHEPLEY
AMERICA HELD MY HAND, pulling me through Abby's hospital room doorway. It smelled like bleach and flowers, exactly why I was glad America had our last two boys at home. Hospitals gave me the heebie-jeebies, pretty much just holding bad memories for me. Mercy Hospital was the setting for the times I remembered going with my parents to see Diane, when I broke my arm, when Trenton got into that bad car accident with Mackenzie and again with Camille. The only good memories I have of Mercy Hospital were when Ezra and then Travis and Abby's twins were born.
"Hi," Abby said with a smile, embracing America when she bent over for a hug.
"You look so good!" America said, repeating the phrase every postpartum mom wants to hear.
Abby beamed. "They're taking me to see him soon."
"Good," America said, sitting next to her. She held her friend's hand. "That's good."
There was an elephant in the room. The four of us had been close since the first night Abby came to my apartment with Travis. It wasn't like them to keep things from us. At least, that's what I'd thought. America and I had several conversations about how the FBI seemed to have forgotten about Travis's involvement with the fire, how the questions and the suspicion stopped. And then the weird moment the morning after Travis and Abby's wedding in St. Thomas when he was so upset he couldn't speak. That was it. That was when it happened. Thomas had given him an ultimatum.
America fell quiet. The America I fell in love with would have raked Abby over the coals for being dishonest, but my wife and mother of three tyrants was wiser and slower to anger. She listened more and reacted less. Their friendship had lasted on the basis of full disclosure. How else could they love each other no matter what? But now we were in a time of our lives when we had to put our spouses first. Marriage made friendship--even old ones--complicated.
"Mare," Abby began. "I wanted to tell you."
"Tell me what?" America said. Now that the conversation had started, she wasn't going to let her off too easy.
"About Travis. I just found out myself a few years ago."
"When did you stop trusting me?" America asked, trying not to sound hurt.
"It's not about that. He wasn't cheating or fighting a drug addiction, Mare. He was undercover for the FBI. He was running with the mob, fighting at first, and then shaking down Vegas strip clubs and making threats. I couldn't call you about it or text. We couldn't whisper about it like gossip next to the pool while watching the kids play. Travis was being watched. Why would I tell you?"
"So you didn't have to carry it alone."
"I wasn't alone," Abby said. She looked at Travis with a small smile.
"That morning in
St. Thomas?" I asked. "That was when you were recruited?"
"I didn't have a choice," Travis said.
I rubbed the back of my head, my thoughts spinning. How had Travis kept this secret all these years? When he was traveling for the gym, and then when he took over Thomas's job, it was always the FBI. That explained how they bought a house based on his personal trainer wages, but I still couldn't believe they'd kept it from us.
"So why Thomas?" I asked. "Why did Thomas keep it a secret?"
Travis shrugged. "Mom. She made Dad promise to quit his job as a detective, and that we wouldn't follow in his footsteps. But Thomas was born to do this job." He spoke of Thomas with reverence, and I believed him, even though I still didn't understand the lies.
"Jim would have understood, Trav. Surely, there's another reason."
Travis shrugged. "That's the only reason he's ever given me. He didn't want to disappoint Dad. He didn't want Dad to tell him not to pursue a career he was passionate about."
America watched Travis speak, her eyes narrowing. She picked up on something I didn't. "So Thomas knew that you were about to be arrested and talked someone in the Bureau into offering you a job because of your connections with Mick and Benny? Why not Abby?"
Abby chuckled. "Travis was capable of doing things for Benny I wasn't. And Travis would have never agreed to that." America nodded, but she still wasn't satisfied. Something wasn't adding up. They were still hiding something. "So now Thomas ..." America trailed off. She did that with the boys a lot, hoping they would fill in the blanks.
Travis cleared his throat. "Was targeted, yes."
"And that cut on your head?" I asked.
He traded glances with his wife. "I was, too. That's why the agents came to Dad's. That's why they're here. That's why we have to stay together."
"You automatically assumed they'd be after the rest of the family because they went after you and Thomas?" America asked.
"They weren't after Travis," Abby said. "He was in my car. They were after the kids and me."
America covered her mouth.
Travis's gaze fell to the floor. "The men who ran me off the road ... They were Benny Carlisi's men. They had pictures of us in the vehicle. All of us, our families, the kids ..."
"Why?" I asked. "Because your cover was blown?"
"I fucked up," Travis said. "I killed Benny. They're out for blood."
"You killed him?" America asked, stunned. "My friend Travis, my husband's cousin, my best friend's husband, killed a mob boss? Did we somehow fall into an episode of The Sopranos? How the hell is this happening?"
"He didn't have a choice," Abby said. "It was him or Benny."
"And Mick?" America asked.
"He was in protective custody. He's disappeared."
"Disappeared?" America screeched, looking at Abby.
"Keep your voice down," Travis said.
America stood and began to pace. "So now what? We'll be prisoners in our own home until they're all caught?"
"It won't be long," Travis said. "I promise, Mare. They gunned down one of our agents--my brother. We won't stop until they're locked up or wiped out." Travis crossed his arms across his chest. As big as he was in college, he was a beast now. His arms were thicker than my legs, his chest almost twice the width it used to be. He was solid muscle. I couldn't imagine anyone looking at him and thinking it was a good idea to go after his family, and it was hard to believe Thomas had dragged him into this mess.
Travis noticed that I was deep in thought. "What is it, Shep?"
I shook my head.
"Say it," Travis said.
"You said it was to keep you out of prison. Couldn't Thomas have done that without asking you to go undercover? Every time you were on an assignment, you were in danger. Why would Thomas do that?"
"It wasn't an easy decision for him," Abby said.
"That implies he had a choice," I said. "Did he?"
Travis shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.
"What if you weren't you?" America asked. "What if Abby had been involved with her first boyfriend Jesse, or Parker, or someone not as ... capable as you?"
Travis shrugged. "Then if he would have been stupid enough to be involved in The Circle fights and found himself guilty of gathering a hundred students in a small basement with questionable exits, he would have gone to prison."
"Or bartered with Abby for her cooperation and manipulation of Mick. I just ..." I trailed off, hesitant to say anything more to hurt our family. "He could have found another way, if he wanted to. He could have, Trav. I realize it's probably not the best time to voice that opinion, but I didn't know back then. So I'm saying it now."
Travis looked down and nodded, pulling in a breath through his nose. He looked up at me as if I had invited in a truth that had been living in silence on the edge of his conscience. "He knows that. I see it on his face every time he sees me on the job."
"It seems a little too perfect," America said. "Thomas is in the FBI, and his brother just happens to be dating the daughter of a man involved with a crime family they're investigating?"
"Thomas got lucky," Travis said.
"Lucky?" America snarled. "Did he get a promotion?"
Travis and Abby tensed.
"Did he?" America demanded.
"Yeah," Travis said. "He did."
"Un-fucking-believable," America said, letting her hands fall to her thighs with a slap. "And you were okay with this?"
"No!" Travis said. His patience was running out. "No, I wasn't okay with it. I did what I had to do."
"Thomas sold you out," America said, pointing at Travis.
"So Liis is coming here? Without Thomas?" I asked. "I'm assuming he's in some secret federal hospital with a ton of security?"
"I can't talk about that," Travis said. "Not yet."
"We're your friends," America said. "At least, we thought we were."
Travis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not about how much we trust you. It's about who's listening."
"The truth is dangerous," Abby said. "The more you don't know, the better."
"Abby," America said, disgusted. "We're in protective custody. We're already in danger."
Travis and Abby traded glances. "There's not much more you don't know," Travis said.
"Then fill us in," America said, standing. "I guess I'm missing where we aren't important enough, or smart enough, or have high enough security clearance to know why someone wants to kill us or our children."
"Did they ... have pictures of our boys?" I asked.
Travis hesitated then nodded.
America retreated to my side, forming a united front. I knew what was coming, and by the look on Abby's face, so did she.
"You involved us in this without our permission," America said. "We've been behind you since the beginning. We've been there for you through everything. Then we find out you've been lying to us for years. Okay. I understand the circumstances, but it's time to be straight with us, now. Now, it's our business. It's our problem. Is there anything else we should know?"
She was right. Our boys were sleeping in a waiting room of a hospital, and before that, they were crowded on a makeshift pallet on the floor so we could be under the watchful eyes of the FBI. We weren't sure how long the Carlisis had been in town, or how long they'd been watching us. We couldn't protect ourselves or our sons without knowing exactly what we were up against.
"What are you going to do about it, Mare?" Travis asked.
"Trav," I warned.
"No, I'd like to know. You think Thomas or I wanted any of this? It's the last thing we wanted. That's why I've been undercover for--"
"Undercover?" America seethed. "Lying to mobsters about your loyalties doesn't make you undercover, Travis! They knew who you were, who you're married to, and where you live! We were in Vegas with you. They had photographs of my boys!" she said, her eyes filling with angry tears. "The second you agreed to this,
we were in danger. Don't act like you're the savior in all this. You and Thomas are the cause!"
"America, enough," Abby said. "You don't know everything."
"Exactly," she snapped. She grabbed my hand, and we walked together toward the door.
"Shep," Travis pleaded.
I turned to him. I'd always been on his side, but for the first time, I wasn't sure if he had my back. I wasn't sure if I could believe anything he was saying. He hadn't chosen to lie to us, but he wasn't in control. "You haven't even apologized, Travis. I know you didn't want this, but you brought it on us. And for what?"
"To keep him out of prison," Abby snapped. "You would have done whatever you could to keep that from happening, too, and you know it."
"I wouldn't have painted a target on the backs of my sons," I said. "You did that." I glared at Travis and then pulled my wife out the door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LIIS
VAL LOADED STELLA'S AND MY THINGS into the passenger seat and floorboard of Travis's truck, except for the pink and gray baby bag Travis had slung over his large shoulder. I smiled for the first time since Thomas had left. Seeing a man as large and intimidating as Travis Maddox carrying anything girly struck me as amusing. Just as quickly as it came, the feeling vanished, replaced by bone-deep pain. I couldn't believe I was in Eakins, Illinois, with Stella but without her father. The past few days had left me in a daze.
Travis set the baby bag in the back on one side of an already-present rear-facing car seat. He seemed to have a lot on his mind besides the upcoming task of breaking the hearts of everyone in his family.
"I'll have to tighten the straps," he said, reaching for Stella. His voice went up an octave when he addressed her. "You're so tiny, but Carter makes you look like a giant. Yes, he does."
I walked around to the other side, settling in next to the car seat behind Val. She was already in the passenger side tapping away on her cell phone.
"Carter?" I asked.
Before Travis could answer, Val spoke up. "Why do men act so stupid around babies?"
"Glad to see you, Agent Taber," Travis said, his voice thick with sarcasm. He knew what to expect next.
"Fu ..." Val began her trademark response, but she decided to mind Stella.
"Why does it bother you so much?" Travis asked. "Why go into the FBI if you detest being referred as an agent?"
"I don't. It's just an excuse to tell people to fu ... you know."
"Any word, Val?" I asked.
"Significant improvement overnight," she said, resuming the tapping on her phone. "Also heard from Lena. Operation Coco is a go. She's in."
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