Secret Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  Fox releases my arm and smiles. “Hey, Box.”

  The man steps forward with a furrowed brow, his eyes constantly searching Fox’s face. “Jesus Christ, it is you,” he finally says, his expression shifting between relief and confusion.

  “Yeah.” Fox nods. “It’s me.”

  He swallows hard. “How?”

  “It’s a long story,” Fox says, looking at me. “Dani, this is my friend, Boxcar.”

  Boxcar bows his head, his eyes twinkling with recognition behind his frames. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

  “You, too,” I say.

  “But let’s go back to the part where you’re not dead,” he says to Fox. “I’m still pretty confused about that.”

  Fox glances around the crowded lobby. “We should go someplace more private.”

  Boxcar nods. “Sure. You want to grab a drink first? I’m admittedly a little sloshed already. I wasn’t sure whether or not I was being pranked because you’ve been dead for two years.”

  Fox sighs, amused. “You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?”

  “Ha! Funny man.” He smiles at me and points at Fox. “He’s funny.”

  I shrug. “Meh.”

  Boxcar squints, sensing the tension as Fox glares at me. “Right, well, my laptop is upstairs. I believe you had something for me to crack into?”

  Fox nods. “Yeah.”

  “Then, let’s go on up. I can tell you all about your funeral that you missed.”

  “I sent flowers,” Fox jokes.

  As interesting as this Boxcar character is, I’d rather not sit around and listen to them drone on about the mystery that is Fox Fitzpatrick.

  I reach out and snatch the keycard from Fox’s hand. “2617, right?” I ask him.

  He hesitates. “Dani—”

  “I’m going to go lay down,” I say before he can complain. “Come get me when you’re done.”

  Fox inhales but doesn’t argue as I turn around and make my way through the lobby toward the golden elevators in the corner.

  Chapter 22

  Fox

  “So, that’s her?”

  I watch as the elevator doors close on Dani’s down-turned face. “Yeah,” I answer. “That’s her.”

  Boxcar nods with approval. “Good disguise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, what’d ya do?”

  I sigh and tilt my neck until it pops. “Nothing. That’s the problem.”

  He winces. “I call that one the Caleb Special.”

  “She says hi, by the way.”

  “Bullshit.”

  We walk across the lobby, dodging cocktail dresses on the way to the elevators.

  “But since you brought her up,” he says, “how did she react to… well, you know.”

  He flicks his hand in my general direction.

  “Better than expected,” I say.

  “Did she punch you? I would have expected some bloodshed.”

  The elevator opens and we step onto the empty car.

  “No bloodshed,” I answer. “Just a lot of questions with a whiskey chaser.”

  He chuckles. “Sounds like her.”

  “I told her you’d take care of some debts for her as a thank you for helping me out,” I say, my lips curling. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  Boxcar throws his head back as he punches the button for the 15th floor. “Come on, man. Why would you do that? Now I’m obligated to help her.”

  “You don’t have to even talk to her, Box. Just delete a few zeroes from her record and you’ll be square.”

  “I don’t want to be square with Caleb. I liked the freaky trapezoid. It was comforting.”

  “Hasn’t this gone on long enough between you two?” I ask, feeling the rush of ascension. “Don’t you ever just want to make amends and be together again like a normal couple?”

  “Nope.” He shakes his head with unmoving eyes. “Never again.”

  “What? You don’t believe in second chances, Box?”

  He peeks at me over his glasses. “Never give a second chance to a girl with a boy’s name. It’s science. And for the record, I don’t think a man in love with his stepsister has the right to use the phrase normal couple when dispensing relationship advice.”

  I cant my head. “Fair point.”

  The elevator dings and we step off onto the 15th floor. “But enough about women,” he says, waving a hand. “I want to hear about you and this epic journey of yours to the underworld and back.” I pause by the door as he slides his keycard in. Then, he studies my face. “It’s about a woman, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  He sighs with rolling eyes. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

  We walk in and I close the door behind us, swiftly flicking the lock and double-checking to make sure it’s secured. Boxcar crosses the suite to the table by the window and sits down. My memory buzzes with nostalgia as he leans over his open laptop. I never thought I’d get to see that ever again.

  He notices my expression and his brow arches. “What?” he asks.

  “Just realized how much I missed this.”

  “What, you and me kicking back and complaining about Caleb and Dani? And they say war changes men.”

  I chuckle. “Not as much as you’d think.” I reach into my pocket for the flash drive. “I have a file on here that I need to get into.”

  Boxcar cracks his knuckles and extends his hand. I toss it at him, and he easily catches it.

  “What’s on it?” he asks, pointing it at his USB port.

  “The Snake Eyes master file.”

  Boxcar drops the drive and it clatters against the keyboard. He looks at me, his expression twisting from genuine curiosity to rightful fear and back again.

  I nod, suspicions confirmed. “You didn’t let it go after all, huh?”

  He swallows. “No, I did. I definitely did…”

  “After you found them?”

  “No, Fox. After they found me. Kinda took the hint to get the hell out of dodge and never look back, which I’ve done a pretty decent job at so far.” He stands up and takes several steps away from his computer. “How the hell did you even get this?”

  “I stole it.”

  “From where?”

  I stare at him for several moments until his face drops.

  “And suddenly, it all comes together,” he says, flexing his jaw.

  “Box…”

  “That’s where you’ve been?!”

  “You’re shouting.”

  “You’re damn right I’m shouting!” His mouth contorts, shifting between gasps and grins. “You’re a fucking Snake Eyes agent!”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Holy shit, man!” He pushes his hands through his hair, ruffling it bad, but I doubt he cares. “This is huge.”

  “What exactly were you expecting?” I ask. “I came back from the dead to hand that to you.”

  He exhales. “Fox, when I woke up this morning, I certainly was not expecting to hack into the deadliest underground organization on the planet. And I say that with the greatest of respect and fear. Quite frankly, I’m appalled you even joined.”

  “They didn’t give me much choice.”

  “Yeah, I hear their recruitment tactics are a bit medieval.” He pauses, his face falling hard. “It was me, wasn’t it?”

  I shake my head, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. “No,” I say.

  “They recruited you because of the intel I gave them. This is my fault.”

  “I’ve never blamed you, man. Not once.”

  His shoulders sink, unconvinced.

  “Box.” I pause, waiting until he looks at me again. “They chose me because of what I could do, not because of what you did. All right?”

  Boxcar exhales slowly. He understands more than anyone what I mean by that. He’s seen it with his own eyes.

  The killer in me.

  After a moment, he nods. “Wait—” He points at my chest. “Do you have the tat?”
<
br />   “Yes.” I nod. “I have the tattoo.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “Box—”

  “Dude, you have to let me see it.”

  I roll up my shirt, exposing the black cobra inked on my torso, and his eyebrows bounce with wonder. “Happy?”

  He smirks. “Damn, you’re taut.”

  I drop it back down. “Decrypt the file, Box.”

  Boxcar wanders back to his chair and sits down, gently pinching the flash drive as if it could come alive and bite him at any moment. He hesitates with his other hand tapping against his knees.

  “Fox…” he finally says, “I have to ask.”

  “Why do I need the file?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, how else would you expose the deadliest underground organization on the planet?”

  “I was afraid of that…” He scratches his head. “You don’t. That’s the answer to that question. You fucking don’t.”

  “I’m not here to debate it, Boxcar. I just need the file and then… you might want to lay low for a while.”

  “Yeah, no shit. I’d ask why you’re so keen on killing yourself, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that question.”

  “They threatened her.”

  “I noticed — along with the rest of the world.” He traces his thumb down his cheek where Dani’s gash now resides. “Look, I don’t want to be a downer on this bright and sunny conversation we’re having here, Fox, but I feel like I have a moral responsibility to point out that you’re in this file, too.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with this?”

  “With them exposed, they won’t have a reason to go after her anymore.”

  “Fox…”

  “Can you do it or not?”

  He holds up his hands. “Hey, I’m not saying I won’t do it. I’m pretty sure I still owe you like nine more favors after this one. I just want to make sure you know that you rotting in a cage for the rest of your life is a very possible outcome in this — and that’s the best-case scenario. The scenario directly below it involves torture and other very unpleasant things.”

  I pause, staring him down. “It’s Dani.”

  “She has no idea you’re doing this, does she?”

  “No.”

  “That’s noble as fuck, man.” He sighs. “You know, just once, I’d like to be the cool guy in the room.”

  I shift around to sit on the bed as he plugs the drive into his laptop. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same for Caleb.”

  He inhales sharply but says nothing to argue against it. “This might take a while.”

  Chapter 23

  Dani

  The door opens behind me. I lie still on the bed, drifting back from the edge of sleep and I stay that way.

  I can’t believe I’m faking it like a damn child but it’s better than trying to have a conversation with him.

  Hey, remember last night when I undressed for you and you turned me down?

  Good times, eh?

  I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to go back to Los Angeles. This awkward cloud above our heads is turning my lungs black, even worse than the smog in the Hollywood Hills. Another few days of this and I’m bound to completely snap.

  I close my eyes and focus my hearing. He’s moving across the room, his feet slow and soft like he’s trying not to wake me. Good. He’s probably avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding him.

  “Dani.”

  I open my eyes as that voice cuts down my spine.

  That’s not Fox. That’s—

  I spin around and a gloved hand slaps against my mouth. His lips curl into a sinister smile and he brings a finger to his lips.

  “Shh…” he warns.

  I look into Mercer’s icy eyes and fear overwhelms me. He stares back at me without his mask and I see the rest of his face for the first time. He’s far younger than I thought he’d be with dirty blond hair and only a few wrinkles around his eyes. Youthful but deadly in every way.

  My hands roll into fists, but he easily grabs my wrists and holds me down against the bed. I inhale sharply to cry out, but he grabs a knife from his belt and lays the blade against my face with a quick twist of his hand.

  “Don’t scream,” he growls, “or I’ll fuck up the rest of your pretty face.”

  I freeze, terrified of the sharp edge digging into my other cheek.

  Mercer studies me. “You know, I’m a big fan of yours…” he whispers. “Not at first — I thought you were a bit too cutesy — but now that I’ve seen you up close… I get it. I get what Fox sees in you.” He runs his free hand over my head. “Maybe it’s the new hair…”

  I cower from his touch as bile rises in my throat. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Maybe,” he answers with complete truth in his tone. “But that’s up to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He releases me and stands up. “I wanted to get some time alone with you,” he says. “No funny business. I just want to chat.”

  I sit up. “Chat about what?”

  Mercer crosses the suite and grabs the chair from the writing desk in the corner. He carries it back and sets it next to the bed a foot or so away from me. He balances his knife on his knee as he sits down, his fingers wrapped around the hilt.

  “The weakness of my enemy is my strength,” he says. “I am a man who likes to know my strengths, so…” He tilts his head in curiosity. “How are you, Dani? Do you mind if I call you Dani? Or do you prefer that adorable stage name of yours?”

  I stare at him in silence, dumbfounded by his friendly tone.

  “Dani it is, then.” He gestures to the bed. “Please, relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  My muscles burn from their tense grip on my body, but I try to do as he says. I slide back against the headboard and my hand touches hard metal beneath my pillow. My gun. Of course. I forgot I put it there before I fell asleep.

  I take a breath and drop my stiff shoulders to show that I’m relaxed.

  Mercer smiles, satisfied by my apparent attempt. “Dani, did Fox tell you about our organization?” He pauses for a moment. “Answer, please.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, you know who I am? You know what I am capable of?” I nod and he blinks twice. “Good, good. But do you know who he is?”

  I furrow my brow. “Who?”

  “Fox.” He shifts in his chair but keeps his knife held tight. “I don’t pick just anybody to join my squad, Dani. Fox Fitzpatrick was chosen for a reason. I saw potential in him and potential like that… it’s not the kind I let go to waste, you know what I mean?”

  “Not really.”

  He leans forward. “Fox is a killer, Dani. I usually don’t like slapping labels on everything but, in his case, there’s no better word. You remember Senator Lamb. We put two bullets through his eyes. It usually takes two men to pull off a hit like that, but Fox…” A chill rolls down my spine as he grins at me. “He can shoot a man through his eye from a thousand yards and take out the other eye before his body even hits the ground. Truly a legend in every way.”

  I cringe, trying to force the image from my mind.

  “But… something was holding him back,” he continues. “Fox was quiet, reserved. Which is not at all uncommon in our line of work, obviously, but it was different with him. Turns out, there was a girl.” He raises his brow. “That’s you.”

  “You think?”

  He chuckles. I slide my fingers around the grip of my gun.

  “When Fox went dark, I was devastated to lose such a valuable item in my toolbox…” He bites his cheek. “Until we discovered the little security breach. Someone helped themselves to our master file. Now, Dani… you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  “No.”

  He tilts his head. “For an actor, you’re a terrible liar. But that’s okay. I would be a special kind of fool if I expected trust between the two of us, but if I may
… I would like to try and connect with you if you’ll let me.”

  My finger tightens around the trigger. “I don’t understand…”

  “I’m going to tell you the truth, Dani. I imagine a young woman of your status doesn’t experience that often from those around her. Am I correct in my assumption? I will not be offended if you tell me otherwise — we come from two very different worlds.”

  I nod.

  “I’m going to tell you the truth,” he repeats, “and for the next few minutes, I will expect the same from you. It’s only fair. Do you agree? Don’t nod. I want you to say it.”

  “I agree,” I say, my voice cracking.

  He smiles again. “My boss sent me to come out here and take care of Fox. When I say take care of Fox, you know what she means, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “But given what you know now about Fox’s talents, you can imagine that I don’t really want to do that. In fact, I want to bring Fox home with me and put him back to work doing what he was born to do.”

  “No one is born to be a killer,” I argue.

  “Maybe not in the City of Angels, Dani,” he says. “But where I come from, things are quite different. Fox is coming back to Snake Eyes and he will do so of his own will.”

  My eyes swell. “No. He’ll never go back.”

  “Look at what he’s done so far to protect you,” he says. “If I put this knife to your throat and ask him then, what do you think he will do? No, the reality is this: If I let you live and offer the promise that no harm will ever come to you again, he will come back with me in order to protect you. However, if I were to stab you to death right now, I think he would still come back… because he would have nowhere else to go.”

  I let a tear tumble down my cheek. His eyes flick downward, following it as it travels toward my collarbone.

  “Tell me, Dani, if you were in my position, which option would be easiest? The living, breathing reminder of his humanity, constantly in his head, holding him back from true greatness? Or the dead, forgotten, tabloid fodder?” He raises an eyebrow. “Tell the truth.”