When Fates Align

by Isabelle Richards

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lily

  The best part about Gavin leaving is the look on his face when he comes back. He removes the cuff links from his white Oxford shirt, puts them on the dresser, and rolls his sleeves above his elbows. His sparkling blue eyes catch mine, and my breath hitches. There were so many times I thought I’d never see him again, and here he is in all of his magnificent godliness. It’s not just his ridiculously sculpted body and the face of an angel—it’s the intensity of his gaze. With one powerful look, he enchants me. All the stress and angst disappears, and a tingling warmth spreads throughout my body. The rest of the world fades away, and it’s just him and me. I’m so lucky.

  “What’s that smile for?” he asks as he loosens his tie.

  “I’m happy to see you. And not in the ‘I thought the world was going to fall apart until you got back’ kind of way. Just in the ‘happy to see you’ kind of way.” I pull my knees up to my chest. “How was your day?”

  He plops down on the side of the bed, flashing me that smile that makes me melt. “Horrible. I sat in three presentations and didn’t listen to a word of them. Thank goodness Mrs. Smythe takes good notes.” He kisses me gently. “I was away for five hours and spent the whole time wishing I were here.”

  Relaxing my legs, I snuggle close to him, nuzzling the crook of his neck. “You’re here now.”

  He sighs. “True, but sadly, I’m not alone. The team is downstairs. Nigel said he has some news, and I thought it’s high time you met them.”

  Pulling away, I feel my smile fading. “I just met Isla.”

  “You did?”

  “Yup,” I say, popping the “P.” “She’s… something.”

  His body tenses, but his face gives away nothing. “Isla isn’t the easiest person to work with, but she was integral to helping the team, and as we move forward, we’ll need her expertise. I’ve gotten to know her a little. She’s had a hard life and has become jaded and cynical. It’s made her a bit rough around the edges.”

  “If that’s polite Brit speak for abrasive and bitchy, then yes, she’s rough around the edges.” Nothing about her stirs even the slightest bit of empathy inside me. “Having a hard life doesn’t give you license to be a raging bitch.” I shift on the bed and tuck my legs underneath me. “It was really the strangest exchange, like she was trying to assert her authority or stake her claim or something.”

  He looks away and scratches the back of his neck. It doesn’t take a genius to see he’s got something to say. I just gave Isla a speech about how confident I am in Gavin’s love for me, but he’s giving me the tell-tale signs of a guilty conscience.

  He takes my hand. “I don’t want any secrets between us.”

  “Hope you’re both decent, ‘cause I’m coming in either way,” Max shouts as he throws open the door. “Greene and Sully are on the phone, and we only have them for a few minutes. We need you down there now.”

  Gavin looks over his shoulder. “We need a few more minutes, Max. Surely Greene and Sully can wait a few minutes.”

  Max leans against the door. “They can’t. They’re in court this week. This may be the only time they can speak today.”

  “Looks like secrets will have to wait a little longer,” I say to Gavin then climb out of bed.

  Gavin jumps off the bed and blocks me from moving forward. “We have no secrets. You know absolutely everything that matters. This is just a bit of backstory that I’d rather you know. Don’t for a moment let this spark any concern.”

  “Backstory, huh?” While I have a feeling “backstory” doesn’t begin to cover it, if he says I don’t have to worry, I won’t worry. I trust him. I hook my arm through his. “Then it can wait. Life’s too short to worry about stuff that doesn’t matter.”

  We go downstairs, and as I turn the corner, I run smack into the guy that I almost killed with a shovel at the storage place. Even though he’s smiling, he’s intimidating. He’s huge, 6’4” or 6’5”, and has shoulders like an ox. But it’s not so much his size as the way he carries himself that reminds me of Clint Eastwood in an old western. His face says, “Fuck with me, and I’ll gut you from scrotum to sternum.” It could be the scar that runs from his ear, down his neck, and disappears into his shirt. If he survived that, he’s tough as nails. The whole intimidation thing works well for him, giving off a sexy bad boy vibe. Despite being scary as hell, I bet he doesn’t spend a lot of nights alone.

  I step back and rub my aching nose. “Sorry about that.”

  Gavin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. “Here, luv, you’re bleeding a bit.”

  “I’d shake your hand but… I’m Nigel.” The guy looks at the blood stain on his shirt. “That’s two shirts you owe me now.”

  I pinch my nose with the handkerchief. “Two?”

  “You were a little foul that night. After letting you sit on me for a while, my shirt should have been labeled hazardous waste.”

  “After all I’ve done for you, I think you can let it slide,” Gavin replies.

  “It’s been years,” Nigel replies. “When are you going to stop harping on it?”

  “Harping on what?” I ask, my voice a bit nasally. “And I was pretty rank. I hope Gavin burned all my clothes.”

  “I’m just having a laugh,” Nigel replies. “Gavin’s usually so modest about his accomplishments. I’m amazed he even brought it up.”

  I look at Gavin. “What accomplishments?”

  Nigel pulls up his shirt, revealing a long scar. “This man removed a bullet from my belly in the middle of a sandstorm whilst we were under heavy enemy fire.” He pulls up his sleeve, revealing an ugly scar on his bicep. “Sewed me up after a machete just about chopped off my arm.” He unbuckles his belt and unfastens the top button of his pants.

  I hold up my hands. “Whoa! Let’s keep this E for Everyone. I get the point. Gavin’s Super Doc. Surprise, surprise. What isn’t he good at?”

  “But I like him better with his current gig. He gets me all sorts of new toys to play with. I can find a doctor anywhere, but only this guy can get me a microwave gun that allows me to shoot someone and scramble their brain without leaving a mark. It’s a thing of beauty. Anyway, I was just coming to get you. We need to get started.”

  We enter the study, and Max says, “Finally!”

  Nigel points at his group of guys, all of whom I somewhat remember from that night. “Lily, may I introduce—”

  “Don’t have time, dude,” Max interrupts. “Lily, Peter, Roger, and Richard. Peter, Roger, and Richard, Lily. Now you’re all old friends. Sully, Greene, you’re up.”

  “Lily? Are you there?” Greene’s voice echoes through the speakerphone.

  “I’m here!”

  “So good to hear your voice, kid. You had us shitting our pants over here,” Sully, always the colorful one, says. “I hate to cut the reunion short, but we really have to get going. Our request to further investigate the cartel’s involvement in Lily’s kidnapping has been denied. They don’t even want us assisting the task force.”

  “What?” Max shouts.

  “They said that since Lily applied for a permanent visa, this is a UK matter and we cannot get involved. We were advised to offer consultative support only.”

  “For those of you playing at home, that means they’ll give us dick!” Max yells. “How is this even possible?”

  “You bloody know why,” Isla says from the corner of the room. “The cartel owns someone. That’s how they work. Don’t act so surprised.”

  “We’ll help however we can, but our hands are getting tied tighter by the second.” There’s muffled noise in the background, then Greene says, “We’re being called in. We have to go.”

  Once the call clicks off, Isla says, “I’ve been telling you legal channels will not work. This shouldn’t be a surprise.” She flashes Max an annoyed look. “What’s going on with the Mexican team?”

  I look at Gavin. “Mexican team?”

  Gavin looks at Ni
gel. “We need to catch Lily up to speed.”

  “Can’t you catch her up later?” Isla gives me a glare that says, Not now, dear, the grown-ups are talking. “Let’s work out whatever issues need to be addressed. I’m sure Gavin can explain it later in terms she can understand. I don’t have time for a recap. I have another meeting to get to.”

  “Of course we need—” Gavin begins, but Max interrupts.

  “That’s not how this works, sweetheart,” Max sneers. I can tell by his expression that he really doesn’t like Isla and has been itching to lay into her. “If you haven’t caught on yet, this is all about Lily. The cartel isn’t going after some random chick—they’re going after her. It’s her life on the line, so she’s a part of every decision we make.”

  I hold up my hand to stop him. “It’s all good, Max. Isla, maybe you’re used to your ‘victims’ playing a passive role, but that’s not how I work. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m more likely to go rogue and try to take them down on my own, so it’s probably best for everyone if we’re on the same page.”

  “True that,” Max says.

  I smirk but don’t take my eyes off of her. “I understand if you have other commitments. If you need to go, I’m sure someone can catch you up.”

  She motions for Nigel to take the stage. “By all means.” She gets up. “I’ll go get a snack.”

  Once she leaves, Richard says, “God, I hate her.”

  I smile, thankful I’m not the only one irked by her.

  “We need her, so let’s all just play nice,” Peter replies. He walks over to me and offers me his hand. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”

  “You too.” I turn to Nigel. “You’d better explain fast. The natives are restless.”

  “As Isla said, we knew there was slim-to-no chance of the cartel being brought down by the government. Any government: Mexican, American, Martian—it doesn’t matter. They’ve got government intimidation down to a science. When Gavin came to me, he requested systematic destruction, and that’s what we’ve done.” He waves me over to the coffee table. “I do better with visuals.”

  When I sit, he spreads out a map of Mexico covered with all sorts of markers. “We have a team in place generating intelligence. With that information, we’ve been able to pinpoint the farms where they’re growing pot and poppies. We know where they process the drugs and package them; we know where and how they transport the drugs for delivery. Slowly but surely, we’ve been taking out their resources.” He points at several farms. “These have been burned. No crops remain. Two of their five processing facilities are gone. To turn poppies into heroin and coca into cocaine, certain chemicals are needed, so we’ve cut off their supply.”

  Nigel shows me the satellite images of all the places they’ve destroyed. It’s hard to believe this is real and not the plot of a Bruce Willis movie. According to Gavin, this sort of thing is Nigel and his crew’s specialty. If they can pull it off, the cartel won’t have a leg to stand on.

  “Holy crap. You weren’t kidding when you said systematic destruction. Is there anything left?” I ask.

  “See the purple dots?” He points them out on the map. “These are the buildings where they house woman and children for human trafficking. This is a huge revenue stream for them, and we’ve yet to find a way to get in there that won’t result in loss of life—ours and the hostages. We’re working on it though.”

  “I’m amazed they haven’t figured out Gavin’s behind this. After what they did, they have to know he’s going to retaliate.”

  Richard steps up and removes the cigar from his mouth. “That’s the beauty of this—a rival cartel’s taking all the credit. It’s a win-win. We don’t get the heat, and they get all the street cred.”

  “It’s making Morelia batty though,” Roger says. “We have their buildings wired and have been picking up their chatter. Between all the money we’ve been collecting and all their buildings going up in flames, they’re feeling the heat.”

  “Money?”

  “Oh yes,” Nigel says. “Roger’s been able to find several of their bank accounts, and we’ve been kind enough to relieve them of those ill-gotten gains.”

  “Twenty-five million and counting,” Roger says with a smile.

  Isla returns to the room. “Can we begin now? I really must go.”

  Nigel turns to me. “Any questions?”

  “Nope. You put it in terms I could easily understand,” I say with a wink. “So what’s on the docket?”

  Nigel looks at Gavin as if he’s seeking approval.

  Gavin motions for him to go ahead. “There’re no secrets here. Total transparency. She has the right to know everything.”

  I look at Nigel through slanted eyes, wondering what he’s hiding.

  “The bloke you stabbed? Well, the second one, not the first one—the first one’s quite dead. But the second one lived and has been my guest for the past few days,” Nigel says. “After some coercion, he’s given us valuable intel.”

  Coercion. The word stirs up such contradictory emotions. Part of me revels in the fact that the bastard’s getting his due, and the other part of me is sickened by the part of me that’s reveling. I think the hardest part of this whole process is the push and pull of my emotions. The desire for vengeance and justice are battling with my conscience. It’s a game of tug-of-war, and it’s exhausting.

  “We have more farm locations, and we now understand their transport system,” Peter explains. “It’s quite ingenious. They put the heroin inside sewage treatment trucks then load them up with sewage. Then they just drive them across the border. Who would ever want to search a truck full of shite? The buyer drains the truck and finds the heroin taped to the inside. Digesting but genius.”

  The lengths people will go to for drugs never ceases to boggle my mind. “I wonder if people knew that the crap they were about to stick in their veins had been soaking in shit for days if they’d think twice about it.”

  Isla snorts. “Clearly you haven’t met too many people who chase the dragon. If I gave them shit and told them it was edible heroin, they’d eat it. They only care about the high.”

  Note to self: never accept any food from Isla. Ever.

  Nigel pushes the maps aside and sits on the edge of the table. “We had Chavez report home that when he arrived, you and Soto were dead.”

  I furrow my brow. “Chavez?”

  “Marco,” Peter clarifies.

  “Oh. Why would you do that? You’ve seen the kind of press attention Gavin gets. It’s only a matter of time before I’m spotted and the cat’s out of the bag.” I look warily at Nigel. “You don’t expect me to go into hiding, do you?” I escaped one prison just to be trapped in another? That’s bullshit.

  Richard takes the cigar out of his mouth. “Now that we know you’re safe, all of our attention will be on the mission in Mexico. If Rafa thought you were alive and we had to worry about him coming after you again, our attention would be split and thus less effective. It won’t be forever.”

  Peter looks at the maps then back at me. “We expect a month, tops. With the intel we received from Chavez, we could be done in as little as three weeks. ”

  It’s not ideal, but with a light at the end of the tunnel, I suppose it’s manageable. And if I’m being honest, I’m just now getting comfortable with leaving my room. Am I really ready to face the world? I shift in my seat and tuck my legs underneath me. “Okay. You’re the experts. I’ll play dead for now.”

  “And behave please,” Max says. “No running off to take care of this on your own.”

  “I’ve learned my lesson,” I say, holding up three fingers. “Girl Scout’s honor.”

  “One last item,” Nigel says. “Gavin mentioned that you’d like us to locate and extract the boy.”

  “Yes, please,” I reply. “I can’t just leave Arrow there.”

  Roger pipes up. “We’ve started looking but haven’t found him yet. They don’t often traffic boys—that’s mostly girls
—and it’s rare for them to snatch them this young unless it’s for ransom. I feel it’s safe to assume he’s alive and with them, but we just haven’t gotten eyes on him yet. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Nigel claps. “Who’s up for supper? I’m starving!”

  Isla groans. “I stayed for that? Wankers! All of you!” She slings her purse strap over her shoulder. “Next time you summon me, be certain there’s a purpose for me being here. Don’t waste my time.” Her heels clack on the marble floor as she storms out.

  The rest of the boys clamor on about where to go for dinner. Once they have a place in mind, they take off.

  As soon as the last person leaves the room, I turn to Gavin and say, “So. Tell me about Isla.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Gavin

  Blasted! I had the perfect time to tell her about Isla when we were both confessing, but I didn’t, and now it’s biting me in the arse, making it look as though I’m hiding something! What a bloody cock-up.

  Isla isn’t helping matters. She was acting like a wretched cow, going after Lily like that. I can’t quite figure her game. She clearly has no interest in me other than a quick fuck. I’m not even sure she likes me very much, so I can’t imagine romance is driving her behavior. But for some reason, she feels threatened by Lily. Nigel told me Isla doesn’t work well with other women, so there’s a chance it’s as simple as that, but something tells me it’s more.

  Lily’s staring at me, waiting for me to explain. I promised her no secrets, so I have no choice but to be honest and hope she sees this for what it is.

  “Isla’s a twat,” I say. “It’s her personality. She’s rude, arrogant, and lacks social grace of any kind.”

  She laughs, but her sardonic smile tells me she doesn’t find anything funny. “I picked up on that. How about you tell me what I don’t know?”

  I shift in my seat, unable to get comfortable, although it’s probably more the subject matter than the furniture. “I hadn’t slept since you’d disappeared. Maybe a kip here and there, but every time I closed my eyes, I thought about all the horrific things you could be enduring. I was surviving on scotch and adrenaline fueled by fear. The only thing that kept me going was the slim hope that you were still alive and that we would find you. But that night, we’d lost our only lead, and I was devastated.”