by L A Pepper
“Not good, Dad. Not good at all.”
The grin that spread across his face was chilling. “Would you like to get revenge on the slut for betraying you?”
He would like that. It was something he could understand. It was something he could connect to, to build a bond. Vengeance. Control. That was the language he spoke. I couldn’t make myself say the words. I nodded, then swallowed. “How?”
He turned and walked to the desk, a big battered thing, piled high with boxes, and sat on the edge. “The whore is not as clever as she thinks she is. She left tracks. We followed them. Did you know she has a daughter?”
“Leave my daughter alone!” Alex’s voice trembled with emotion. The act gone. Of course it was. She couldn’t pretend to not care about her daughter. She wasn’t a good liar after all. And she wasn’t like my father, who didn’t care about us at all, not as people, just as things that could reflect well or poorly on him. Alex cared, and he’d use that against her.
My father was a monster. He was the kind of monster who fed on your pain and your fear. So I had to be very careful and show none of it. I’d take his, and use it against him instead. “What’s your plan?” I asked.
I could hear Alex exhale. As if I’d punched her in the gut from ten feet away. “Jordan…”
I refused to look at her. Refused to let myself feel for her. I clenched my jaw and turned away from her to focus on my father again. He looked so pleased with himself. “Well, she’s left herself vulnerable, you see. Her daughter is undefended, and that means she has a weakness that we can take advantage of. We could take her right now, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. A child and her great-grandmother. Weak.”
“Please, Jordan, don’t let him do that.” She was panicked, struggling against the goon that held her. “Please, I know you. You wouldn’t let him.”
“Of course the threat of what we could do to her daughter, and her grandmother is as much of a deterrent as doing it, and that means we have her under our control. Which...is not a bad concept. We can feed her information.”
“Jordan…please…”
“Stop!” I said. “You lied to me. You betrayed me. You used me.”
“He doesn’t want to hear it, Alexandra,” my father said to her, smug, and walked over to her. He stood there and ran one finger down her cheek, to her lips. “Tell her you don’t want to hear it, Jordan.” He slowly pushed his thumb into Alex’s mouth. I couldn’t bear it any longer.
“I don’t want to hear it, Alexandra. You’re nothing but an act. This whole time, you’ve been faking it.” I looked her in the eye, finally, my father’s back turned to me, and she looked back, afraid, heartbroken. trapped. “But now I know who you are.” I let myself show her the truth. I loved her. Whatever happened, I’d get her out of this, and her family, too. I’d protect her from mine.
She blinked. Understanding. Then she took my father’s thumb deeper into her mouth, sucked it. My nostrils flared, hating it, but the goons on both sides of me were paying not one bit of attention to me. Honeytrap. She was the honey. And the trap.
“The game is over, Alexandra.” My father thought he’d won.
She pulled away from him, his thumb glistening with her spit.
“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything?” she said, begged, her voice low and sultry.
Oh, the game was over, all right.
I slammed my elbow into the nose of the goon on my right and made a roundhouse kick to the temple of the goon on my left. They both went down. I took a step forward to take out the one holding Alex but it was too late.
Chapter Thirteen: Alex
My nightmare had come true. My heart had been broken. Being a private investigator was nothing at all like the movies made it out to be. It was, in turns, either boring or dreadful. This was the dreadful part. The part where I’d lied and betrayed the man who might turn out to be the love of my life and I was so anguished about losing him that I’d told him about the investigation and he broke up with me and I then followed him into the viper’s nest because for some reason I thought I could save him because I was “the agent.” Like an idiot.
I was, it turns out, a terrible agent. I’d ruined everything. Jordan still hated me. Only now, he was in danger, I was in danger, his mother was in danger, my daughter and my grandmother were all in danger. And this prick of a man had his finger in my mouth.
“Alexandra,” he said. And I looked at him. “I know who you are,” he said. I was not Alexandra. He knew it. I was Alex. His words were cold, but his eyes were sweet. And in his eyes was the truth. He loved me.
I almost started crying right there, but that wouldn’t do. A criminal had his thumb in my mouth. I thought briefly about biting it, but all that would do, I knew, was get me hit, and he might hit hard. Better to stay on my feet and keep my head from getting rung like a bell.
And then I saw in Jordan’s eyes, that he had a plan. His body tensed. He was going to make a move. The guard behind me was panting over his boss having his thumb in my mouth. I could feel him getting excited. So I put on a show. I sucked on Regis Boucher’s thumb, like a good little whore, like they expected me to be. I was glad my t-shirt was low cut, and the guard had pulled back my sweat jacket onto my arms so that my boobs were on display. He thought for some reason that would make me more vulnerable, probably. Instead, he’d given me the bait for the trap. The guards were rather distracted by my cleavage.
“The game is over, Alexandra,” Boucher said, hoarse.
“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything,” I said, breathless. Alexandra. What they wanted. What they expected. “Breathless” Alexandra who was at their mercy, in awe of their mastery. Men were so easy.
They were all focused on me. I thrust my tits out against my t-shirt and they, as I expected, couldn’t take their eyes off of them. They never could.
They were so focused on me, they didn’t notice Jordan making his move.
Faster than I could almost see, Jordan smashed in one guy’s nose with his elbow and moved on to the next, and before anyone could focus on anything but their libidos, I’d thrown the guard behind me over my leg, had him on the ground and retrieved the gun he’d swiped from me and stowed in his waistband. I removed the safety and cocked the gun before any of them could do a goddamn thing.
“Freeze, pere Boucher,” I said, bringing my gun to point directly at his head. “This fat whore is armed.” He raised his hands and swore.
“Let’s make a deal.”
“What the hell kind of deal do you think we’re going to make, Dad?”
“We? Why are you allying yourself with this woman? She’s not one of us.” Boucher asked. “You’re my son. Everything I do, I do for you. ”
Jordan snorted. “Since when, Dad?”
“Jordan, there’s something you should know,” I said, it was the one thing I hadn’t told him. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you might do something stupid.”
“Too late for that, huh? You better tell me now.” He glared at his father.
“When your father found out your mother was investigating him for infidelity, he put out a hit on her.”
“You bitch!” Mr. Boucher spat. “How the hell did you know. That was…” He stopped and looked at Jordan. “That’s how you knew I’d gone after you precious foundation. You were listening in. Bugs everywhere. So this is how they finally get me? Because I trusted my son who betrayed me?”
Jordan had gone still. “You didn’t trust me, Dad. You trusted that I’d be the fool you could use and lie to and dupe. What kind of father are you? What kind of man are you?” He turned away, his face stricken.
“Are you okay, Jordan?” I asked.
“No. Not really. Can I punch him again?”
I had to laugh, but it came out near a sob. I cleared my throat, not taking my eyes from Boucher. He sneered at me hatefully, resentfully.
“I mean, I’m not going to stop you, but you probably want to check him for a gun
. Check them all. And take the zip ties from my pocket. You can use them to handcuff them.”
“Uh. Yeah. Whatever you say.”
“I’m the investigator, right? We keep the ties just in case things get ugly, and right now it’s ugly. I’ve never been the one who had to make the call. My boss has. Best to get them secured, and then I’ll call the agent to pick them up. This has to be enough evidence now. It has to be.”
Jordan came up to me, careful to not interfere with my gun and reached into the pocket of my sweat jacket. Thank God, I just wanted them contained so I could call the feds to come get them. I knew how to shoot and was a good shot, but I’d never actually shot anyone and I really didn’t want to. I was hoping the threat was enough. Boucher glared at me.
Jordan shoved his father around a little, putting cuffs on him. “This is very strange. I never thought I’d be doing anything like this.”
“That’s because you’re a doctor. You don’t belong here, Jordan. I’m sorry.”
Jordan handcuffed the men, two of whom were still knocked out. Not the one I took down, he was fine, just scowling. Jordan, though, had laid his guards out. I’d had no idea he was so formidable. He looked up at me from where he was settling the men.
“What are you sorry for, Alex? My dad is the criminal. He’s been the criminal all along. He kidnapped you. It’s my association with you that got you dragged into this mess.”
“You’re not going to get out of it either. This whole warehouse is full of my men. It’s only a matter of time before they come in here, and the both of you are taken down. Killed even. The only way you’re going to get out of this is if you make a deal. With me. Now.”
There was a bang and noises coming up the hall. Loud noises. Shouting.
“Oh,” Boucher said. “Too bad for you. Here come my men. No more deal.”
The door slammed open and men in body armor and FBI vests came pouring through the door. “Drop it! Drop it! Put the gun down!” Their guns took aim at us.
I slowly put the gun on the floor. Jordan and I both stood with our hands in the air and the men swarmed over Boucher and his guards.
One of them came to stand in front of me and took his helmet off.
“Agent Martin,” he said.
“Agent Long.” Relief swept through me. Thank God. Agent Long did not look average and unnoticeable now. He looked dangerous. “Please,” I said, “You have to believe me. Jordan is innocent. He had nothing to do with the Bouchers’ crimes. His father has been trying to draw him into it. He’s hacked his computers to implicate him, but he’s innocent.”
“She’s lying,” Boucher said from the floor. “It was all Jordan’s plan. He came back to New York City to distribute counterfeit medicine and use the Bouchers’ good name to become wealthy beyond his wildest dreams.”
“I did what?” Jordan gaped at his father, who was being helped up from the floor by two armored agents.
“Jordan blackmailed me.” There was an unholy gleam in Boucher’s eyes. “He threatened to kill my wife, his own mother, if I didn’t comply.”
“You fucking bastard!” Jordan said and lunged at him. Two more agents held him back. “All this time, you brought me back to New York to be your patsy. I should have known. I should have stayed in California and forgotten where I came from.”
“He didn’t! Agent Long. I already gave you the evidence. He hacked Jordan’s office computer. Boucher did. You know he did. You know Jordan is innocent. I failed to get the information you needed for Boucher. I was trying to get proof. That’s why I followed Jordan to his father.”
“As a field agent, you need close supervision. You’re far too honest. That’s why I had you bugged.”
“You bugged me? When?”
“In your shoe, and the hem of your sweatshirt.”
“In my surveillance clothes that I left in the office?”
He hummed in assent. “And your boss’s car.”
“How did you know I’d do this? I suppose it was just backup, in case I went rogue?” He shrugged. “So were you watching me the entire time? The whole time I was working for you?”
“Yes. You haven’t had training. We weren’t just going to drop you into an international case with no background. We needed you. But we weren’t trusting you to do it alone.”
Jordan laughed bitterly. “It sucks being watched, doesn’t it, Alex? Not being trusted.”
“No.” I breathed a sigh of relief. They’d been backing me up the entire time. All that time, I had felt like I was failing and it was all part of their plan. I didn’t even mind being used to draw Boucher out. “Thank God. Are you watching my daughter? My grandmother? Are they okay?”
He nodded. “They’re fine. There’s an agent who has been keeping an eye on them.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you the information you needed to take Boucher down and I hope you have enough to go on. I’m a terrible field agent.”
“Actually,” he started. “You did get us the information we needed.”
“I did? When?”
“When you warned me that my husband was putting a hit out on me.” Mrs. Boucher strolled in the room. “They said all the villains had been captured and I could come in now. I want to see my husband in handcuffs.” She spotted him and smiled broadly. “Oh, there you are, darling!”
“Sonia, you bitch,” Boucher growled.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to make sure my prick of a husband doesn’t destroy us all because of his greed.”
“What did you do?” Boucher tried to make a move for her but the agents holding him wouldn’t allow it.
“Oh, nothing, dear, I just gave them access to everything. I mean,” she paused dramatically, “EVERYTHING. They’re in our house right now. Passwords. Safes. Files. All the little things you were keeping secret from me and thought I didn’t know about but I was saving for when I divorced you and could use to prove your breach of contract and take all your money from you. I am a bitch, after all.” She smiled. “But I’m always a well-dressed and put together bitch, like you said. Do you like my outfit? This is my super spy look.” She did a little spin. She wore a black pencil skirt with knee-high stiletto boots and a snug black turtleneck. Thick black sunglasses were pushed up on her head. She was a very stylish super spy. She definitely put me to shame.
“You made your wife very, very angry, Mr. Boucher,” Agent Long said, showing his feral grin again.
“Mom.”
She walked over to Jordan. “I like this girl. I like her a lot. She protected you when no one else would.”
“She lied to me.”
“No. She protected you. She did what she had to. And she was the only person who told me what he was planning to do to me, whether it ruined her investigation and got her fired or not.”
“This is too much. It’s all too much.”
Mrs. Boucher wrapped her son up in her arms and hugged him. “It’s done now. You’re out. Do you hear me? You will never be forced into this again. I’m working with the FBI and we’re taking him down. Did you really dissolve The Good Friend Foundation? You were so proud of the work it was doing?”
Jordan snorted. “No. I lied. I did actually have a plan to dissolve it if I had to, but it takes more than just one signal. But I wanted him to think it was gone, out of his reach.”
She considered him. “It’s not in your nature to be sneaky.”
“I am a Boucher, after all.” Jordan stood to the side, watching them arrest his father and his men..
“Agent Martin,” Agent Long started after everything was done. “I’d like to talk to you about your future with the FBI.”
I shook my head. “No need. I’m a terrible agent. I know that even if everything ended well, you can’t hire me as an agent. I’m the wrong person for this work. I’m not cut out for investigation or undercover work at all. And I hate being a honeypot.”
“It’s true you’re not cut out for undercover work, but
you’re wrong about being a terrible agent. I’d like to bring you into the agency as an intelligence officer, specializing in translation.”
“Translation?”
“Yes. Your ability with languages is quite impressive. We would have eventually come to you looking to hire you anyway, but when your connection with Dr. Bellamy became relevant, we pulled you in ahead of time.” He handed me a card. It was not the card he’d given me before. “Come to the office on Monday at nine a.m. and we can discuss the particulars with you.”
“Translation.” I had a hard time comprehending what he’d said.
He nodded. “Take the weekend to think about it.” He looked over my shoulder and then said goodnight and walked away. I was scarcely able to respond before Jordan came up to me.
I blinked up at him. “Jordan!” Everything was so unsettled. I had no idea how he felt about me. Betrayed, I knew, but it didn’t feel like he’d given up on me. I didn’t want him to give up on me. I felt frozen in place as I watched him closely, trying to read him. I was afraid to hope.
“Hey,” he said, his voice deep and soft and tired. “They said you were done here and I could take you home.”
“Take me home?” I was afraid to reach for him, afraid he didn’t mean it. Afraid he didn’t want me the way I wanted him.
“Take you home,” he let out a heavy, sad sigh. “With me.” His eyes were midnight dark with yearning. “Will you come with me? I want… I want more than I can explain right now, and I want the chance to fix us.”