by Tara Brown
Coop offered, “Exactly what the commander is saying. He thinks we have a mole who was working with your ex. Someone we haven't caught yet. He and I agree that James was not smart enough to pull any of that off.”
I turned to Luce, wondering about her thoughts. She nodded, blushing slightly. “Dude, James was a moron.”
“I know, but if he was the puppet, who could be pulling the strings? Dad and S killed a dozen people from the original team. CI is a tight-knit group. They aren’t exactly trusting. Look at us, our assignments have all been need to know and only piecemeal. They never give any one person all the answers; each person gets a chunk of an answer.”
“Right,” Jack agreed. “It’ll take some time to figure it all out, it and the list. The list is an issue. We only have a short amount of time before we’ll be expected to start taking care of the people on it.”
“So weird the commander isn’t on it.”
Jack shrugged at Coop’s question. “Maybe he isn't in on it. Not that it matters, we know James clearly was someone's puppet.”
I folded my arms. “The list isn’t important right now though, except Fitz. I wonder where he is.”
“He's on their team, not ours.”
“No.” I glared at Jack. “He’s on my team. He always has been on my team.”
Jack put his hands in the air. "I'm just saying that for right now, he’s not on our side. We are our side. We are it.”
“He’s right.” Coop gave me a smug smile. “One big happy family.”
“I hate this.”
Coop agreed it's me. “I know. The orders I have are to sit here, play house, and keep an eye on the obvious and the obscure changes in the little town. This place is a fishbowl.”
“Great.” Luce sighed. “For how long? I miss civilization.”
“Me too,” I complained. “The coffee is piss. I've made my own from the shitty grocery store coffee. Coop, the cup you brought me sucked. These suck.”
Jack pointed at me. “Not at the bakery. It's run by the Smith family, same owners for sixty years. I ran their credit score. Statistically speaking, business owners who are broke or close to it use lesser-quality ingredients and take more shortcuts due to stress and finances. Anyway, they don’t even have credit, they pay cash for everything. They have like one Visa that must be for emergencies or something. The family is wealthy, and I’m assuming the coffeehouse and bakery are a tax write-off, like they want it to lose a little money so they buy only the best.”
“What?” I gave him a confused stare.
“It all equals the same thing: old-lady baking and strong coffee.”
Luce grabbed his arm. “Come on. I want me some old-lady baking.”
Jack appeared startled as she dragged him out of the store.
“You can’t leave us here.” I frowned but they left anyway. I forced myself to stare into Coop’s steely blue eyes. “I guess we'll watch the store.”
Coop laughed. “They better bring me some old-lady baking.” He nudged me. “You ready for a workout later, speaking of getting lazy and fat.”
“No one said anything about bing fat and lazy, asshat.” I shoved him. "So screw you."
“All right.” He nodded, slapping his hand on the firm wooden counter. “I do have a fantasy about a shopgirl."
“You’re repressed,” I retorted. “Keep dreaming.”
“Oh, Evie, I do.” His eyes sparkled.
“Gross,” I groaned. “You’re such a walking contradiction. One minute you want to talk about shopgirl fantasies”—he opened his mouth but I put my hand up—“and then you're mean and calling me old, fat, and lazy. Then when I get offended you say”—I changed my voice to sound like his—“oh, Evie, it's only a couple of years difference. You aren’t that much older.”
He laughed. “That’s not what I sound like.”
“You get my point. You’re a head case. Which is it? Am I too old or not?” I realized too late what I'd just asked for.
"Oh, Evie." He sauntered over in his tight pants and cowboy hat. He gazed down on me, slipped the cowboy hat off, and pressed his buckle into my abdomen. “My point is, I know what you housewives want in an affair, that whole Christian Grey act. You love it. The old ‘be mean to me and tell me what to do’ but really be conflicted about me and make it a chase. You like the chase more than we do.”
I gulped, lost and staring up into his smug blue eyes.
His lip twitched a grin. “Why do you think you like Servario? He's the ultimate ungettable get who bosses you around in the bedroom and then vanishes. You’re always chasing him.”
I had responses, I thought I did, but they weren’t coming out of my parted lips. I had a horrible notion I was giving him my kiss-me eyes.
He bent so his face was closer to mine. “You know the problem for me though? I'm not like Servario. I don’t want you conflicted about me. I want you to admit you want me, as bad as I want you.”
Somewhere inside me a magical thing happened. I mustered up some willpower. It wasn’t my vagina. That ho was already on board, and it wasn’t my brain because that was already closing the curtains and taking my shirt off. It was from somewhere else, and just as he leaned in to close the deal, I slipped to the side. “Nice try, Skippy.” I strolled to the back of the store and leaned on the counter, doing my Kegels and taking deep breaths.
Shit.
Double shit.
It was going to be a hard few months adjusting to Coop in cowboy hats and tight jeans. Not to mention, watching him eat, smile, breathe, or exist. And adding to all that, he wanted to be my fuck buddy.
Triple shit.
Jack and Luce rushed in the back door at just the right moment. I scowled. “No pastries? No good coffee? Really? You left us here and brought back nothing?” I ignored the fact I sounded like a total bitch.
Jack's eyes were wide.
“What?”
He licked his lips and strode past me. Luce didn’t move but refused to meet my stare.
“What's going on? Are the kids okay?”
Luce nodded. “They're fine. See?” She pointed at a monitor and clicked something. The screen split. Jules was talking at a desk with two little girls and Mitch was listening to his headphones. A kid threw a paper ball at him. It bounced off him but he didn’t move. The kid laughed and tossed another one, but Mitch kept his face down. My insides clenched. I wanted to go to the school and kick the crap out of that kid. Where was his teacher?
“Is there hockey here?” I asked. When the little bastards saw how good he was, they wouldn’t mess with him anymore.
“How the shit would I know?”
I ignored Luce, keeping my eyes on my boy. My boy who wouldn’t let me in, no matter what. He was pissed at me for things I wanted so badly to blame his father for.
Coop and Jack came to the back of the store looking the same—unsure. “What's going on?” I bit my lip and waited for whatever bad news they had for us.
“There’s someone who wants to see you. He's outside.”
“Wants to see me?” I frowned at Coop. “What?”
Jack who added. “It's fine, trust me.”
“Who is it?” My eyes reached out to Luce with their stare, but she kept her gaze down. “If this is a joke, I'm going to lose my shit.” I turned and went out the back door, stopping when I saw a face I knew well. “Steve?" My stomach dropped.
He looked bad, beaten, and exhausted. His eyes had huge bags under them. “Hey, Evie.”
“Steve. Are you okay?” I swallowed hard, glancing around the alley for the person I feared and wanted. “What's going on?”
“Not much.” He sounded nonchalant. “Came to get your help.”
"My help?" My stomachache worsened. "Where's Servario? How did you find us?"
“Servario installed a tracking device in those Louboutins.”
I winced, my eyes darting to the door to the store. Luce had borrowed them before the fire. Of course she had brought them with her.
“
I don't understand.” I folded my arms around myself. “Why are you here? What help?”
He looked like he might get sick. “They took him. They have Servario.” He made me jump a bit when he reached into his pocket, but he only pulled out a piece of paper. He passed it to me and I gagged the moment I saw the writing.
Bring my wife here!
The paper dropped from my fingertips. “How? How did he—James—not die? Servario shot him. How? Oh my God, does he know where I am? Does he know where the kids are? Oh my God, my kids.”
“Shit,” Steve groaned. “So it is James' writing?”
“Yeah.” I stared blankly, desperate for answers. My body had a want for a bunch of bad things. At the very top, bitter hate mixed with a need for revenge.
“For fuck's sake, how is he still alive and how did he get Servario?”
“I don't know. We got jumped in Venice. Servario has his hair long now, a new plane, and no one knew we were there. I didn’t understand or see it coming, and I know he didn’t either. They Tasered and beat the crap out of me and tranqued him. He was gone when I woke up.”
My stomach dropped as I glanced around. “What if they followed you?”
“No, impossible. I used the machine to check myself for bugs and trackers. Then I went to our secret house. No one can track you out of the place. It's got an underground tunnel. Trust me, no one tracked me here. I was careful. Servario said if anything ever happened to you, he’d skin my entire family.”
It wasn’t enough.
My heart was in my throat. I turned and sprinted from the alley to the school as the bell rang. Jules ran for me. She had a painting she wanted to show me. I pretended to admire it as I dragged her to the older side of the school. I couldn’t grip her small hand hard enough. Mitch rolled his eyes when he saw me and walked by. I followed him until we were where Luce, Jack, and Coop stood on the road, all breathing heavily and giving me a brutal look. I brought Jules to Luce and grabbed Mitch's arm.
Furious and frightened, I dragged Mitch to Coop and let it fall out of my mouth, “We are in trouble. Big trouble. I can’t lie anymore. You need to know your dad wasn't a good guy. He cheated on me. He had affairs. He never loved me and was never true to me.” I accidentally let the wrong part of the story slip out. I choked on my words, “Your—father—”
Mitch's face twisted as I watched a light come on. He obviously remembered something. Tears flooded his eyes, but instead of running away, he rushed me.
“There’s something else.” I wrapped my arms around him and whispered, “That's not the part I need to tell you. He also cheated the American government. Our job lets us have access to highly sensitive material, and he sold that information to some very bad people. I can't tell you anything else because I don't really know anything else. Montana is probably safe, which is why we’re here, but I need your help. I need you to keep an eye on Jules and help Grandma. She knows about it all, she knows what to do. If she tells you to run, you do it, okay? No more fighting about living here and no more being bratty.” It was a heavy burden to place on such small shoulders, and I hated the look in his eyes as I told him. “I need you to listen no matter what, okay?”
“I knew it,” he snarled, holding back his tears. “I hate him.”
“I'm sorry, baby.” I couldn't help but agree. “I hate him too.”
Mitch sniffled. “I hate him more and I'm glad he's dead.” He turned and traipsed off toward the house. I was frozen, despising myself and the job I was doing as a parent. But if James were alive I couldn't risk him coming after the kids. And deep down, in the selfish places I didn't want to admit to, I didn't want Mitch hating me because James was a piece of shit.
Coop gave me a disapproving scowl. “Really?”
“Don't. I didn’t know what else to do. I need him to understand how serious this all is, and if James is alive he could come for the kids, or me.” I shuddered.
“No need to burden the kid, Evie. He’s too young.” He stalked away from me after Mitch. It was a kick in the crotch, but I couldn't defend myself or get upset in front of Jules. So I calmly walked to her and Luce and headed home.
“You all right?” Mom gave me a once-over when we got there. I kissed Jules on the head. “Go wash up.” She kissed my mom and bounced off.
“What is it?” Mom asked.
“A situation.” I swallowed. “Servario's man, Steve, is here in town. He tracked a pair of shoes I lent to Luce. He says no one followed him, but I can't be sure.” I slumped onto the barstool.
She slid a plate with a chocolate chip cookie at me. “What’s the thing you’re not telling me?”
Closing my eyes, I took a bite of the cookie in my hand and pretended for half a second I was eleven years old. “James might be alive. He possibly took Servario captive and left a note for Steve to bring me in.” The words fell out, but I didn't open my eyes until she snapped at me.
“You have bloody well got to be kidding me.” She leaned against the counter. “It’s time to stop fucking around, Evie, and end him the right way. None of this pretending you're some fragile little lamb who needs a man to do the job for her. You hold the gun to his fucking head and splatter his face everywhere.” I choked on the cookie, but she was back to being Mary Poppins within seconds. “The cookies are good, aren't they?”
“They are.” I snatched her glass of milk, sucking back half of it. I swallowed the cookie bits and coughed. “I know what I have to do, Mom. But I also have to keep them safe from him.” I motioned my head at the upstairs.
“He won’t get near them.” Her eyes sparkled. “Mitch seems awfully upset.”
I nodded, wishing the cookie had poison in it. “I told him James was having affairs and leaking the information. I can't risk James coming back and taking them. He'll use them as ransom. He doesn’t care about anything but himself.”
She poured me a cup of tea. The Brit in my mom had been obvious all along. I’d just missed the signs like a daft twat might have. She passed the tea to me, her eyes searching mine for more truths I might have skipped letting her in on. I laughed. “Stop, I've told you everything.”
“You better not be lying.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes.
“You remind me of Mitch when you do that.”
“Mom, if I go after this and kill him, can you keep them safe?”
Her eyes darkened in a way that scared the hell out of me. “I kept you safe, didn’t I?”
I grimaced, not sure what that meant, not sure I wanted to know. The story Fitz had told me about her still seemed awfully hard to believe.
Her eyes lit up as she grinned. “I have just the person to help us.”
6
Easy Evie
Tapping my fingers against the chair of Fitz's jet made me more anxious, but I couldn't stop. From the moment I saw his face, mine was stuck with a suspicious stare upon it. As far as I was concerned, Fitz stood a slight chance at being a traitor. It wasn't a great chance but it was there.
He gave a desperate plea from the seat across from me, “Evie, darling! Stop that. I had to fake my death and I know eyes are on you. I couldn’t reach you without the almighty them finding me.”
“But you reached out to my mother?”
“Lord, no.” He chuckled.
“Then how?” I questioned. “How did she find you?”
“The way she always does.” He spoke over his glass of sangria. “She posted a coded message in the gay personal ads for South Beach.” The way he said it reminded me of a shitty teenage girl, suggesting I was ridiculously stupid for asking.
“So that's the secret? Post an ad in the South Beach personals and you come running?”
He acted affronted. “I'm not a border collie!” He sipped his drink with his pinky out and rolled his neck for tension relief. “Firstly, it has to be in code. My code name is Scarlett and hers is Tara, and your father was always Rhett. The code is not easy to learn, but I suppose we have nothing better to do.”
&n
bsp; “You didn’t bring the Magic Beanbag with you?” My neck had started to seize and I had a tension headache.
He sighed. “No. Forgot it. I need one for the jet. Now let's start this code training.”
“No.” I was adamant. “First things first, why did you fake your death?”
“That’s not something I want to talk about, Evie. But I guess I have to.” He sipped the sangria slowly. I didn’t trust that; the pause was surely time for plotting. Finally, he smacked his lips together. “I was certain the CIA would come for me. I've played double agent for a long time. Pretending to be retired from one organization, while remaining a set of eyes for another, kept me in the loop. But when you showed up at my house, the CIA assumed I was your fathers contact for the Burrow, or something nefarious anyway.”
“Your name is on a list of not good names.”
“Yes, darling.” He winked, dazzling me with his smile. “I know. I worked quite hard to get it there. The CIA thinks I’m retired as does CI. The people searching for the Burrow think I’m with them, at the same time the Burrow thinks I’m with them, spreading misinformation and continually leading people away. It’s a perfect setup.”
“Perfect setup for what?”
He shook his head. “To know what everyone knows. Keep your enemies closer, my sweet. The man who knows what his enemies know, knows when he needs to run. I like being that man, as does your mother. Your father has always been blind to the faults of the Burrow. There is such a thing as believing too much and giving up too much, Evie.”
My father had given up everything for the Burrow. “Is he alive, Fitz?”
Fitz's eyes lost something, maybe humor as he continued, “That I don’t know.” He was telling the truth. To the rest of the things he’d said, I could only assume he was being honest.
“Where did you get the jet?”
He laughed. “I've made some money in this game.”
“That kind of money? How?”
He leaned in. “Sometimes we Burrow agents would come upon an invention that wasn’t dangerous to the world, but the scientist was being carted off and would never be allowed to sell it. Sometimes we sold those inventions for them.”