Flawed ~ Kim Karr

by Kim Karr

  A warm summer night.

  He’s mine.

  I’m his.

  And for the first time in my life, belonging to someone has never felt so right.

  Chapter 41

  After the Storm

  Caleb

  I TAP AT the glass doors on my best friend’s deck.

  Going around to the front door didn’t seem appropriate. Gemma and I are on the run. Hiding out. And need to take precautions, even here.

  You never know who’s watching.

  Lurking in the shadows.

  Ready to strike.

  Ben looks out at us and hurries to slide open the door. “Caleb, where the fuck have you been?”

  “Around,” I tell him, casually, like I’d been on vacation.

  We slap each other’s back in a semblance of a hug. When I pull away, I see a fiery redheaded woman standing behind him.

  I can’t believe it.

  He got the girl.

  “I knocked, but . . .” I start to say but stop when Ben reaches for her hand. Way to go, man. With my grin wide, I ask, “How are you?”

  She gives me a smile. “Good, really good.”

  Beside me, I take Gemma’s hand.

  I got the girl, too.

  And it’s still hard to believe. Then again, it’s been a long week and I haven’t truly processed what happened. We stayed in that storage unit until I healed enough to walk. As a safety precaution, Gemma dyed her hair dark and I shaved my head. We needed to change our appearance before going out in public.

  The first thing we did after leaving was ditch my jeep and then we picked up her father and brought him to a safe place. Now, we’re here, so I can finish what started so many years ago—with this man. A man who had no idea what he was getting himself into. A man whose life changed forever because of me.

  Struck by the fact that maybe the change wasn’t as bad as I thought it was, I smile at him and say, “This is Gemma. Gemma, this is my best friend in the world, Ben Covington, and his girlfriend.” I pause for a brief moment, filled with so much happiness I can hardly speak.

  He got the girl.

  I got the girl.

  We are both where we were supposed to be.

  And it is about fucking time.

  “This is my girlfriend, Bell,” he tells Gemma for me.

  “Dumbass. I know her name,” I mutter.

  Ben punches my arm. “I wasn’t sure. You’re just standing there like a log.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” Bell says to Gemma, ignoring our antics.

  “Nice to meet you both,” Gemma replies to Ben and Bell.

  “We’re just making dinner. There’s plenty if you’d like to stay,” Bell offers.

  I glance in the kitchen. “Ben’s famous stir-fry—I’d love to, but Serena and Jason are waiting dinner for us. I just wanted to stop by and say a quick hi and talk to Ben.”

  Ben rocks back on his heels and tucks his hands in his pockets, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

  He’s not incorrect to feel that way.

  I’ve done him wrong way too many times, but not this time.

  “Well, how about something to drink?” Bell asks us. She can see I need to talk to Ben in private and I appreciate the subtleness.

  “I’d love a glass of water,” Gemma tells her.

  “The same.” I smile, giving Ben a look that should let him know this isn’t bad news or the start of another crazy journey down a rabbit hole.

  “Come with me,” Bell says to Gemma.

  Once the girls head to the kitchen, I get serious. “Ben, man, have you seen the news?”

  Ben leans against the wall. “Cruz, yeah, I saw it. Nice haircut, by the way.”

  “Fuck you.” I grin.

  The living room is vast and the TV is on mute, an episode of Friends playing and not the national news. “Do you think the cartel will collapse?” I ask because I trust his insight.

  “Honestly, probably not.”

  “Yeah, that’s my gut too, and why I’m here. I need that drive you took from me to nail whoever takes over.”

  Ben glares at me. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on, man, I know you took it when I was here for Thanksgiving.”

  As if surrendering, he raises his palms. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  I place a hand on his shoulder. “This time you won’t have any. You have my word. I’m turning this in and then I’m out.”

  Skepticism lines his face.

  “Come on. I need this so I can be finished with the cartel. I mean it. I’m out.”

  After a few moments, he gives me a slight nod. “Fine, but just so you know, I didn’t take it. It fell out of your backpack when you were here. I meant to ask you about it, but then you ghosted out before I could. I thought you gave it to Agent Bass?”

  I run my hand over my scalp. “Look man, it’s a long story. Do you really want to hear it?”

  Ben keeps staring at Bell, who’s in the kitchen.

  At this point, I don’t feel keeping secrets makes a difference to the case. “I can give you the condensed version.”

  Bell and Gemma return. After Bell hands me a water, Ben opens his arms, and she folds into them. With her head tight against his shoulder, he kisses her and then says to me, “You know what, I’m good with the way things are.”

  I give him a nod. Good choice. No sense in bringing the past up now.

  Bell looks up. “What’s going on?”

  Ben smiles down at her and kisses the tip of her nose. “Nothing. Caleb was just looking for some advice, but I can’t really help him.”

  Gemma sips her water. I stare at her and understand where Ben’s coming from. Some things aren’t worth the risk. This I know all too well.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ben says.

  While he’s gone, we make small talk. When he comes back into the room, he hands me the flash drive like it’s on fire. “Good luck, man.”

  I take it, fingering it before slipping it in my pocket. There’s so little on here compared to what I would have gotten from Cruz’s computer, but it doesn’t seem that important anymore. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

  “You better,” Ben barks.

  We say our goodbyes and once Gemma and I leave through the front door, I sigh with relief.

  Something is better than nothing.

  Tomorrow, I’ll activate the beacon Rice gave me and go in to the office to debrief. I’ll give them the data I should have given them long ago. The flash drive. The real one, this time.

  I wouldn’t say the op was a success, but I wouldn’t say it was a failure. Either way you look at it, the op is dead.

  The kingpin is dead.

  The way it ended really is cleaner.

  I hope the team sees it the same way I do and that they understand why I won’t be returning to the FBI.

  The abbreviated version of it anyway.

  I can’t tell them everything. They can’t know about my brother or the data I withheld to save my nephew’s life. They can’t know that Gemma is Cleo. They can’t know about the necklace. They can’t know about a lot.

  I’ve done things that go against the Oath I swore as to the Federal Bureau of Investigations.

  Ghosting out is my only option.

  By doing so I’ll be letting go of my vendetta.

  I’ll be free.

  And fuck, how I’m looking forward to it.

  Epilogue

  For You

  Gemma ~ Three Months Later

  A FRENCH CAFÉ really epitomizes the art of love.

  I’m sitting at an outdoor table at my favorite bistro in Paris with my sunglasses on and the pink diamond necklace around my neck, not caring that it’s cold outside because I’m free.

  Free.

  Free.

  All around me people are holding hands, French kissing, and whispering sweet nothings to each other. Lovers in love soaking up the sunshine and gazing at the Eiffel Tower with stars in their eye
s.

  My life has changed so much and so have my ambitions but what hasn’t changed is my need for a plan.

  The new plan is to see the world.

  France is our first stop.

  Later today I have an interview at the Louvre. Just a small part-time tour guide position that Caleb suggested I apply for after accepting a security gig there. Money isn’t the reason we work. As Cleo, I had put enough away from the transactions on the Mona Lisa to last two lifetimes as long as we don’t live too extravagantly.

  Working is a way to keep our skills sharp.

  I still can’t believe I never knew Enrique was Leonardo.

  Sadly, the dark web didn’t collapse when he died, though. Picasso has now taken over, and his identity is a mystery to everyone. Who knows, maybe someday Caleb and I will assist in the collapse of the Mona Lisa.

  Or at least the takedown of Picasso.

  Someday.

  But not any day soon.

  Getting back to my sketchpad, I smile at the perfect replica of the pink heart.

  It’s done.

  I was finally able to complete it.

  With a happy sigh, I put my drawing aside and grab the San Diego Tribune. First, I skim the article about the near collapse of The Powers of the Higher Mind. Not really interested about the fate of the cult-like society in San Diego, I turn the page.

  The next headline grabs me.

  Now, I can’t read fast enough. Somehow Penelope Cruz took over as head of her husband’s cartel. I have no idea how but I think she did so without realizing what she was getting herself into.

  The photo of her on the page shows her true beauty. She’d be happy about that. However, the silver handcuffs don’t really go with her outfit. That, she wouldn’t be happy about. Then again, I imagine with the life she’ll be leading behind bars, she’ll have a lot to learn to deal with, and the size of her closet will be the least of her worries.

  A familiar hand covers my eyes and breathes in my ear, “Guess who?”

  I lean back, inhaling his fresh scent. “I know who you are. You’re the man who saved my life—twice.”

  Over six-foot-two inches of lean muscle urges me to my feet. With that sexy as sin smile on his face, the love of my life kisses me, hard and fast, and then he whispers across my lips, “And you’re the woman who saved mine—forever.”

  Forever.

  I’ll take it.

  You can’t ask for much more than that.

  The end!

  WHAT’S NEXT . . .

  BENT—Part of the Connections Series featuring River and Dahlia and the entire gang, including Caleb and Gemma.

  River and Dahlia have the love of a lifetime, but to say it’s been easy would be a lie.

  One last time! The Connections series ends here with all the characters coming together when an unexpected tragedy strikes.

  Just when you thought it was over . . .

  * * *

  What would you do if the love of your life was taken from you because of the past actions of another man?

  Hunt him down or join forces to get her back?

  Find out in Bent.

  Sneak Peek

  "It doesn’t feel real. One minute I’m walking down the beach, the next I’m being shoved into a dark room and my phone, along with everything else I had with me when I was grabbed, is taken away. I think it’s noon, but I’m only guessing. It feels like someone has torn open the minutes between the time I parked at the beach and now. I’m no longer on regular time. I’m on 'being kidnapped time', which lasts far longer."

  What’s Also Next

  Something I Just Can’t Have

  Heartbreaker (Part of the Men of Laguna World)

  Dirty Talker (Part of the Sexy Jerk World)

  &

  A very dear to my heart 3 volume series I’ll be announcing soon

  Here’s a look inside some of my favorite books:

  THE THING ABOUT LOVE

  Jules

  I wasn’t a romantic, but some gestures always made my heart swell because they reminded me of my parents.

  The ways in which my father used to show my mother how much he loved her were so sweet.

  Their love for each other was deep, profound and full of the little things that mattered.

  It was so perfect.

  All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could easily remember the times my father had serenaded my mother at six in the morning because she’d gotten upset with him the night before. Or the holidays he’d had flowers sprayed in glitter before having them delivered because my mother adored sparkly things. And how sometimes he’d bring home a picnic dinner in the middle of winter to help satisfy her spring fever.

  I wanted that—someone who knew me better than I knew myself. Someone to laugh with. Cry with. Be with. Someone who made my leg kick up and my toe point when he kissed me. Made my world stop. Someone to love who loved me the same way.

  But my prince charming hadn’t arrived yet, and he might never arrive. I had to accept that. Still, I was lucky. I got to see love all around me, and that would have to be enough—for now.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and set my teary-eyed gaze on the cake.

  Feeling like this appointment was going to go off without a hitch, I quickly swiped my tears away. Pulling my portfolio of items from my bag, I began neatly arranging them around the cake.

  The Tiffany blue looked terrific against the white and brown. And the rustic look really made the color pop.

  Jaxson’s business card had gotten intertwined with the photos of the old barns I’d found online for potential venues.

  “Sundance.” His nickname used as his professional name was embossed in silver upon white card stock. The S was in a scripted font, and the remaining letters were plain. There was a camera watermarked behind it. His business moniker was not so much elegant as it was practical. Easy on the eyes. A lot like he was.

  I stared at it for a long while. He had always aspired to do more than weddings. He wanted to work for a prominent magazine and shoot fashion models. He wanted to work for National Geographic and photograph wild animals. He wanted to photograph anything but weddings.

  Had I been the one who had held him back?

  Was he finally moving on?

  I shoved the card back in my bag. I’d show Rory his work back at my office. Seeing was believing, after all.

  When my gaze swung back to the cake, I frowned as I focused on the heart etched into the middle tier.

  A wave of alarm washed through me.

  Oh, no!

  No.

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  It just couldn’t be wrong.

  I bent to get a closer look. With my lips twisted in contemplation, I stared at it for three long seconds.

  The initials carved in the cake were RK + RH, but I was fairly confident the groom-to-be’s name was Kyle Harrison, and that would mean the second set of letters should start with a K, not an R.

  All of a sudden, I was so hot, and my ears felt like they were on fire. I was about to have a full-fledged panic attack, and I knew it.

  This was so not the time for that.

  I tried to shake it off. The cake was astonishing, so what if we had one tiny detail wrong? Everything would still be fine. Even as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I knew it wouldn’t be. Not with a mistake of this magnitude.

  As fast as I could, I snatched the sketchpad Montgomery always kept under the counter to double check the initials we’d agreed upon. Flipping it open, I found the rendering right away, but the heart hadn’t been filled in, which meant he hadn’t planned on filling it, or he was uncertain about what to fill it with.

  “Montgomery,” I called, but there was no answer.

  Pulling my phone from my bag, I quickly thumbed through the emails from Rory Kissinger. Even after scanning them, it didn’t bring me any closer to finding out her fiancée’s name. All her references to him were my fiancée this or my fiancée that or w
e this and we that.

  Tapping Google, I hurriedly searched the Governor of Georgia’s son. Of course, he had to have two sons, whose names, of course, were Kyle and Robert.

  Just my luck.

  I tried adding the words recently engaged to my search, but I got nothing. Then again, the happy couple hadn’t made any announcement yet. That would be one of my tasks if I got the job.

  “Montgomery,” I called again. When I got no answer, I rushed to the kitchen door and pushed it open. The room was empty. They had gone somewhere.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  I glanced at the clock. Less than ten minutes until my clients were scheduled to arrive, and there was no time to waste. Since the name Kyle was my first instinct, I was going with it.

  How hard could it be to fix?

  With my stomach a queasy mess and my breathing out of control, I acted without thinking.

  Hurrying back to the counter, I yanked that straw-like thingy from the cup against the backsplash and whirled back around. I just had to turn that R into a K before my clients arrived. If I didn’t, I was sure I’d lose the job because the happy couple would think I was totally incompetent.

  Or worse, they would think I had paired the bride with the wrong groom!

  Just as the blunt tip of the tool hit the icing, someone’s voice echoed from the lobby, “Are you open?”

  I jumped at the deep tremble of the male voice reverberated through me. That huskiness made him sound sleepy, and dare I say sexy. Having been startled, I was a bit unsteady. Forced to stop what I was doing, I jumped into work mode.

  My clients.

  This had to be my clients.

  Of course, the happy couple was early.

  The footfalls were getting closer. With only seconds to spare, my mind started to race.

  The letter repair was out of the question, and the alternatives at my disposal were limited. I could turn the cake around, step in front of it, stick my finger over the R and erase part of it, or rush the couple out of here and ignore the cake altogether.

  No, forget the last one, I couldn’t do that.

  It was my selling point.

  Pausing for a moment to catch my breath, I inhaled deeply before setting the tool down, and then I discretely just did it. I wiped away part of the top of the R and then quickly licked the frosting from my finger.