Code Name: Rook

by Sawyer Bennett

  Ladd, Jackson, and I clear out long before the other FBI agents haul off the kidnappers. Brian wasn’t arrested as his crimes were on a state level, but I’m sure he’ll be answering to those at some point. Clay took Brian, along with his sister, to their FBI offices for interviews. I’m weighing whether I should go there after a quick debrief at headquarters to offer her a ride home. My gut says it’s a bad idea, and she needs a little space.

  The drive back to Jameson isn’t quiet. Ladd and Jackson, riding high on the adrenaline of storming a kidnappers’ stronghold—which wasn’t all that strong—has them sharing some moments that were pulse-pounding and others that were hysterical.

  Like the look on Glen’s face when I came crashing through the wood-and-glass window, which was clearly a diversionary tactic that let Ladd and Jackson deploy flash bangs to stun the others into capitulation. It worked like a dream. The kidnappers were so startled Ladd and Jackson had them down on their knees with their hands behind their heads in mere seconds.

  I’m quiet on the ride back and it’s not long before they notice.

  “You don’t look too happy for someone who just saved their wife,” Ladd comments as he drives one of the company vans to headquarters.

  “Just mulling over the best way to win her back,” I admit.

  “You mean saving her life didn’t do the trick?” Jackson laughs from the rear seat. I turn my head over my shoulder to look at him, and his laughter dies a sudden death.

  “Unfortunately, saving her in the manner we did revealed the real truth of who I am in a way that was so shocking, I think she’s more angry and hurt than I could have imagined.”

  The other two men are silent for a moment, then Ladd offers, “Lots and lots of groveling and apologies?”

  “Figured that much,” I mutter.

  “Get in good with her parents,” Jackson says, and that gets my attention.

  I shift in my seat to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, get them on your side. They’ve got to be thinking you’re a hero right now.”

  “Right,” Ladd drawls. “Hit them first before she can. Let them know how sorry you are and that you want to fix it, but you’re not sure how. Casually remind them, of course, that you saved their daughter’s life, and you’d be appreciative of any help you can get.”

  I ponder that. “So you’re both advising me to use her parents against her.”

  “Pretty much,” Jackson says with a grin. “But dude… you lied to her not only for weeks, but you married her without telling her the truth. You need all the help you can get.”

  That would be true, and they both make great points. But ultimately, the problem may be that her parents don’t think I’m worthy of their daughter. That my lies trump any good deeds I’ve done by bringing her home safely.

  Christ, this is a cluster fuck, and it’s of my own making.

  No one to get me out of it but myself.

  ♦

  The first opportunity to make headway with Jaime’s parents comes when I return to Jameson. They’re still there on the fourth floor in the communal area, along with Laney. Kynan had obviously kept them apprised of everything, including her rescue. When I arrived, intending to head straight to my apartment for a shower, I was surprised to see them still there with Joslyn and Kynan.

  “They’re hanging out here until Jaime and Brian finish up with the FBI, then they’re going to go pick them up,” Kynan explains.

  I nod, giving them a smile. There goes any hope of me trying to see Jaime tonight, but that’s probably for the best. Like I said… she might need a little space before I put on a hard press to win her back.

  Her parents and Laney stand from the couch, her dad’s expression saying he’s not sure what to make of me. It’s part reserved and part distasteful. I see no gratitude for what I’ve done.

  Laney does give me a small smile, but she stays a few feet back.

  Jaime’s mom, however, comes around the couch and gives me a hard hug. “Thank you so much for rescuing Jaime.”

  I squeeze her before pulling away to assure her, “It was very much a team effort.”

  Pursing her lips, she swats at me. “Don’t downplay it. Kynan told us how quickly you sprang into action, how you tried to defend her even though it was four to one, and well… crashing through a window from a rope after having jumped off the roof? That’s simply amazing.”

  I blush a little, but yeah… that was a cool maneuver. I wouldn’t have attempted it if it was full plate glass, but Ladd and Jackson’s prior recon showed the window frames to be old and splintered, and I knew they’d be easy to kick in with the momentum I’d be bringing with my swing. The glass shattered small the way I figured, and going in feet-first had most of the frame bursting inward and away from me, I didn’t get a single scratch, although admittedly I tweaked my shoulder a bit.

  Glancing back over at her father, I wonder if his wife’s thankfulness has changed his attitude. I can tell by his expression it has not. He’s going to be a hard sell, but, right now, Mrs. Dolan’s looking at me like I walk on water.

  “Can I get anyone anything to drink?” Joslyn offers, rising from her chair. Such an amazing hostess and such a change in her circumstances, going from Hollywood A-lister to helping Kynan run this business. Anyone who’s anyone knows who Joslyn is, and I’m sure the Dolans were starstruck at first. Everyone is when they first meet her.

  “How much longer do you think it will be?” Mrs. Dolan asks Kynan.

  “Maybe an hour,” he answers. “They’ll want a basic statement so formal charges can be made, but they’ll most likely want to talk to them both again at a later date for more detailed statements.”

  “And Brian?” Mr. Dolan asks, obviously wondering if his son is even coming home tonight or if he’ll be arrested.

  “The feds aren’t going to be interested in him for this because he didn’t have any part in planning it,” Kynan replies. “But on a local level, he could be in trouble for dealing in stolen goods.

  “But with his cooperation, surely they can work out something that keeps him out of jail,” I say, my eyes on Kynan. He knows more about this stuff than I do.

  Mr. Dolan’s head snaps my way, but I ignore him.

  I didn’t bring up potential leniency for Brian because I want Mr. Dolan to like me. It’s important because I know it would kill Jaime if her brother went to jail. While I certainly don’t see much in the guy that makes him likable, she has a lifetime of experiences with him that I don’t. I know she loves him with all her heart.

  I also saw how regretful he was after she was kidnapped, and he had no qualms about going into the devil’s lair, pretending to have money when he knew he could have easily been shot. He put his life on the line for her, so I’d like some efforts made so the appropriate people know what he did and can perhaps cut him a break.

  Kynan shrugs. “They work out deals all the time. I’m sure he has helpful information the district attorney would be interested in.”

  A silence falls over our group while everyone digests that Brian’s future is very undetermined. Mrs. Dolan then asks Joslyn, “If you don’t mind, I would love a cup of decaf coffee.”

  Joslyn beams at her before heading toward the kitchen. “Anyone else want one?”

  I decline, muttering my excuses and goodbyes, then head to my apartment, dying for a shower, but I sense someone following me. When I turn, I see it’s Mr. Dolan.

  “Can we talk privately?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I reply, nodding down the hall. I certainly can’t say “no” to him, even though I’m probably not mentally prepared to go toe to toe with him about Jaime. “My apartment’s right down here.”

  Once inside, I turn right into the small efficiency kitchen and open the fridge door. I hold up a beer over the edge so he can see it, and he nods. I open it, hand it over, and pull one out for myself.

  “You think Brian’s going to go to jail?” he asks, his expression now nothing more than
a concerned but disappointed father.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I reply, shutting the fridge door. I lean against the counter.

  “God help me,” he mutters, glancing down at his bottle. “But part of me thinks he needs it.”

  “Or maybe this is a huge wake-up call,” I offer, then try to provide him with some reassurances. “All I can tell you is he never intended for Jaime to get hurt. I’m sure had he known she was at risk, he would have sought appropriate help to make sure it didn’t happen.”

  Mr. Dolan nods, then takes a pull on his beer. When his gaze comes to mine, there’s a slight chill in it. “Now… how about you tell me why in the hell you and Jaime got married without telling us about it? Better yet, tell me why you married my daughter when she didn’t even know who you really were. I want to know what your game is—because no one marries a woman with such a lie between them.”

  I hold back my sigh since I deserve these questions. “First, there is no game. I love your daughter, and I wanted to marry her. I have always intended to tell her the truth from the beginning, but the lie just kept getting bigger the longer I held on to it. The more I fell for her, the more I was afraid to lose her. Your daughter takes honor and integrity very seriously, if you didn’t know.”

  He nods with a grave expression. “I do know that. Which is why I’m wondering why you lied to her in the first place?”

  Christ, I’d rather not get into that. The reasons were not only stupid, but they also highlight that I was not a great guy when it came to women. I mean… the lie was intended to get a woman out of my bed early the next morning, which means Mr. Dolan will know I was only viewing Jaime as a hookup when we first met.

  I put down my beer bottle to face her father. He’s a big guy who looks like he can throw down.

  “Okay,” I say, chin up and spine straight. “Here’s the truth.”

  I then proceed to tell him what a player I was, how I lied to any woman I met about what I did for a living as I didn’t want them hanging onto me when they realized what a cool and sexy career I have. I told him it was only natural for me to do the same when I met Jaime, but by the time I’d realized just how crazy I was for her, the lie was so deeply embedded that it couldn’t be undone.

  Not without the risk of losing her.

  He listens quietly, not a single tic on his face that anything I’m saying is even registering. Face passive, he stares at me and ignores his beer.

  “I had intended to tell her in Vegas, but then I got called up for a mission in Colombia. I knew I couldn’t drop that bombshell on her right before I had to leave for a week. Then I was going to tell her this afternoon when I got back. We had just taken our seats in the living room—I’d told her I had something to tell her—when the damn door flew open. Those men burst in, and she was taken.”

  Mr. Dolan finally shakes his head. “I’ve got to tell you, Cage. That’s about the dumbest story I’ve ever heard in my life. I mean, the actual lie about what you do for a living. I’ll never understand you kids.”

  “I agree. Dumb and asinine. Think Jaime will forgive me?”

  “You have a lot of work to get there,” he says sagely. “And honestly, I don’t know. It doesn’t help this came on the heels of her last boyfriend cheating on her.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I reply glumly, my gaze dropping to the floor.

  “But,” he drawls, and my head snaps up, ready to take any bit of hope he can offer. “I imagine you’re a pretty determined guy, and it seems your heart is in the right place now. I certainly don’t think you have anything to lose by fighting for her.”

  That’s absolutely true.

  And I have everything to lose if I can’t get through to her.

  CHAPTER 24

  Jaime

  Their voices are low, but they’re still carrying through to the living room. My mom, dad, brother, and sister are all in there, having a conversation about me. They think they’re being covert about it.

  “She’s been lying on that couch all day, just staring at the ceiling,” my mom whispers, maternal worry thick in her voice.

  “She watched some of the Raiders’ game,” Brian points out in a low murmur. “So, she’s not exactly catatonic.”

  “And she did brush her hair.” Laney would be the one to notice something like that.

  “Well, I don’t like it,” my father adds his own two cents, also in a harsh whisper. “She’s clearly depressed.”

  That actually makes me smile—my father assessing my mental fortitude.

  I suppose they might be a little freaked out. After all, I got kidnapped yesterday and rescued by late evening. They discovered I was secretly married, and I found out after they did that my husband wasn’t who I thought he was. When we left the FBI station, I asked if I could stay at their house for a few days.

  Mom and Dad had exchanged a worried look because I’ve always been the independent one. While their home is open to any of their kids—as evidenced by their adult son living in their basement—my request to stay with them indicated I wasn’t in a good headspace.

  Of course, another reason I wanted to stay at my parents’ was that Cage had been blowing up my phone with texts and voicemails, reiterating his apologies and begging for some time to talk. I deleted every single one. At one point, my finger actually hovered over the button that would block him.

  But I hadn’t.

  We went to my childhood home, and I slept in the old bedroom I shared with Laney. Back then, we had twin beds with matching white comforters with eyelet embroidery around the edge. Our mom had made them for us.

  The twin beds are long gone, and there’s just a pull-out couch. My mom uses it for her sewing room now, having moved all her fabrics and her machine up from the basement to give Brian a place to sleep. I was so tired last night, I didn’t even bother pulling the couch out. I threw a sheet over it, pulled a blanket over myself, and dropped into a dead sleep that was devoid of any dreams or nightmares. My mind and body were exhausted from a whirlwind week, starting in Vegas, culminating in an unplanned and spontaneous marriage, followed by a kidnapping, and ending with the knowledge my husband is not who he said he was.

  When I awoke this morning, my first thought was of Cage, and it was through a haze of sadness and uncertainty. I’m still so angry. At some point, I know I’ll have to give him a chance to say his piece. The question is whether I’ll ever accept anything he has to say.

  I have no clue why I feel so betrayed. It’s not like he hid a secret family, a sordid criminal past, or a drug addiction.

  He lied about his job.

  Most, like my mother, would say “big whoop.”

  But damn if it doesn’t bother me way down deep, and I think a lot of it is because I feel like the world’s biggest idiot for marrying a man who suckered me. It feels worse than betrayal because part of this is my fault for being so damn gullible in believing we had a real connection.

  The fact he lied in the first place and didn’t correct it meant that everything built upon it was a sham.

  “Dinner’s going to be ready in about five minutes,” my mom calls from the kitchen. It’s dead silent in there, all waiting for me to respond.

  I attempt a cheery voice as I call back, “Awesome. I’m starved.”

  But I’m really not. My stomach is knotted, and my chest aches.

  My mom starts giving orders to Laney and Brian to set the table, and my dad meanders back into the living room. I go ahead and sit up to make a show to him that I’m okay. When he gives me a tentative smile, I level one back at him so overly bright I know it looks fake.

  “Your mom made rigatoni marinara… your favorite,” he says, shifting from foot to foot. He seems uncomfortable, perhaps fearful I’ll have a breakdown on his watch. Dad was always the one we played with, and he helped us with schoolwork. Mom was the one who nursed our wounds and held our secrets.

  “I can smell it,” I reply with a chuckle. My stomach growls in response, a pointed reminder I�
�ve yet to eat today despite my mom trying to tempt me with some delicacy every half hour.

  When the doorbell rings, my dad turns that way, saying, “I’ll get it.”

  I frown because he doesn’t seem startled by an unexpected visitor. A tingle snakes up my spine, a sneaking suspicion something isn’t right. It’s confirmed when my dad opens the door to show Cage there. His eyes come right to mine, and he looks determined.

  “What’s he doing here?” I ask. My dad steps back from the door in a silent invitation. Cage takes the offer, steps up over the threshold, and gives my dad a nod.

  “Your mom invited him to have dinner with us tonight,” Dad answers.

  Irritation sweeps through me. I’m going to give my meddling mother a piece of my mind. I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, throw him out, Dad. I’ve got nothing to say to him.”

  My voice isn’t hushed or whispered like the conversations that have been going on around me today. Laney, Brian, and my mom come out of the kitchen when they hear me, but all three smile at Cage.

  “I invited him too,” my dad replies, his voice firm and brooking no argument. “So I won’t be tossing him out.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but Brian jumps in. “Come on, Jaime. Give him a chance.”

  I shoot my brother a hard glare because I’m still sore at him for getting me in this mess, but I can’t say I’m surprised. He’s taken with Cage for not only rescuing me, but also because he apparently has some contacts with the DA’s office through his boss, and they might be able to work something out for Brian to avoid jail time.

  My gaze moves to Laney, but she merely holds a fist up in solidarity. It says she’s on my side no matter what I want. I give my attention to my mother, who merely stares back at me with empathy. She knows I’m struggling and she wants me to be happy, but since she invited Cage, it means she has some romantic notions we should work things out.