When Fates Align

by Isabelle Richards

  Once we get word that everything is confirmed, we’ll put the finishing touches on the plan, make sure everyone knows their assignments, and catch a flight to Tucson in the morning. I hope to hell they’re not all hungover today, but I’m happy they had a chance to cut loose a little. With all the stress and tension, some downtime is well deserved.

  A cart of orange juice and bagels was delivered at some point this morning. I pour a glass and grab a copy of the Post then make my way onto the terrace. It’s still bitter cold, but Georgetown is really pretty in the morning. Between my sweats and my robe, hopefully I won’t freeze. Once I step outside, I realize how wrong I am. I put my juice and newspaper on the table then run back inside for a blanket.

  Bundled up, I’m getting comfortable on a chaise when I hear, “So how much do you hate me?”

  Jumping out of my skin, I spill my juice everywhere. “Jesus, Max! You scared me half to death!”

  He’s bundled up on a chair on the far corner of the patio. His nose is bright red, and his face looks chafed. That could be from Em’s slap, but I’m guessing he’s been out here for a while. I pull my chair over to his, hoping the shrieking of the metal chair dragging on the brick doesn’t wake everyone.

  “I don’t hate you,” I reply. “I’m confused and caught off guard, but it’s your life. You’re under no obligation to tell me who you’re dating.”

  He rubs his hands along his five o’clock shadow. “I have no freaking clue what I’m doing. Everything is so messed up right now, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  Realizing we’re going to be out here for a while, I pull the blanket tighter around me. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

  “It started when you died.”

  I groan. “I really wish you wouldn’t describe it like that. It creeps me out.”

  His eyes find mine. “But you did die. We all thought you did. I can’t call it something else because nothing else will do it justice. Nothing else can explain how awful it was. You were dead, and we had to find a way to deal with that.” He drops his head. “I just chose all the wrong ways.” He recounts his version of what happened with Em. “I was so broken, and I thought she was the only person in the world who would understand. I went to her, poured out my heart, cried in front of her. And do you know what she says?”

  Of course I know what she said, but I let him tell the story.

  “‘Tell the maid to change the sheets on your way out!’ Can you believe her? So I bolted, hopped on the train to DC, and I ran into Sabrina.”

  I zip my jacket up higher so it covers my neck. “You just ran into her? That’s quite a coincidence.”

  He shrugs. “Run into. Take a cab to her house and knock on the door. Tomato, to-mah-to.”

  I cock my head. “Why? She broke your heart. Why go to her of all people?”

  He picks a bottle of water off of the ground and takes a swig. “Remember, you were dead, so it’s not like I could go to you! I was hurt, and I knew she’d open the door. S and I have had our share of hard times, but she’d never turn me away. Not in the state I was in. I didn’t go there with the intention of starting things back up with her again. I was just looking for a place to wallow in my grief.”

  I snort. “And you found that between her legs?”

  “Don’t judge,” he says, pointing the bottle at me. “We don’t all have what you and G have. Sometimes you have to get love anywhere you can get it.”

  The disappointment in his tone pulls at my heartstrings. Gavin and I do have something amazing, but I also know how horrible life can be when you settle for “right for now” rather than “right for forever.” I’d hate to see him get into something with Sabrina out of convenience. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there’s more there than I think.

  I pull my knees up to my head and rest my chin on my knee. “So is that what’s going on between you and Sabrina? Love?”

  “Maybe for her,” he replies. “Or at least she thinks it’s love. But I know as soon as I do something to fuck it up, she’ll be throwing my clothes all over 6th Street again.”

  The wind picks up, so I tighten the blanket around me. “So that’s how she feels. What about you?”

  He sighs. “I love someone who’s one hundred percent unattainable.”

  I knew this would happen. I remember the day they first met and I could see in his eyes that he was falling tits over ass for Em. As I warned him that she would always be just out of reach, I could sense that he wouldn’t listen. His eyes glazed over, and he smiled and nodded as he swore he wouldn’t fall for her. He protested his feelings so much that I knew he was destined for a broken heart.

  I get out of my chair and motion for him to make room for me on his. “Calling her a whore probably didn’t help.”

  He scoots over, and I snuggle in next to him. Despite how long he’s been out here, his body is warm. “Yeah, I know. But I was pissed. We got into it just after you and G left for LA. She tried to explain what happened in Boston, but I was just too hurt to listen. I unleashed all my pent-up frustration at her and said a lot of things I can’t take back. They weren’t necessarily untrue, but harsher than they needed to be.”

  “Such as?” I ask, picking a piece of lint off of his sweater.

  “She hides behind this mask of ‘casual relationships,’ but she sucks you in. When you’re with her, you feel like you’re the only person on the planet. It feels so good, so real, so intense that you think there’s no way it can be casual to her. She’s not really against relationships, she just hasn’t found the right guy, and with the way she looks at me, I have to be that guy. Then you realize there’re ten guys out there thinking the same thing as you. You’re not special—she makes everyone feel that way, from the guy she’s sleeping with to the guy at the dry cleaners. When you find out there’s nothing special about it…” He rubs his chest. “Man, it hurts. Like finding out Santa isn’t real.”

  “Is that her fault though? She’s up-front with everyone. She never promises exclusivity, and she tells you there’s no chance for anything but casual. If you swim with a hungry shark in a tank with a sign that says ‘Beware of hungry shark,’ can you really be surprised when you get eaten?”

  “At what point does someone have to stop putting people in the tank with the damn shark? There’ll always be suckers willing to get into the tank, but that doesn’t make it okay. How many guys will she lead to the slaughter before she has some accountability?”

  I rest my head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how much you know about Em’s life, but she’s tragically screwed up. I don’t think she even knows what love is, let alone what to do with it when someone gives it to her. Why do you think she was such a bitch to you and Liam at the gala? She saw you both falling for her, and it scared her. So she made you both hate her, and then she didn’t have to deal with any of it. She’s much more comfortable being the evil bitch than she is being somebody’s sweetheart.”

  He toys with a stray lock of my hair. “So what do I do?”

  “I love you both, and I don’t want to see either of you get hurt any more than you have. I don’t think Em can be what you need right now, so my advice is let her go. I know my ‘death’ messed with her head too, and she’s going through some stuff. Maybe she’ll change, maybe she won’t, but I know if a real relationship is possible for her, it’s a long way down the road, and she’ll leave a number of broken hearts in her path. I don’t want that for you, so I think you should let her go.” I want to tell him that I think Em really does care about him, more than she’s cared about anyone, but that would just get his hopes up.

  He looks so heartbroken. It was bad enough he found out Santa isn’t real, but it’s as though I’ve just told him the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy are bunk as well. “And S?”

  “No one wants to be the understudy who only gets to take the stage because the leading lady backed out. If you don’t love her the way she loves you, don’t use her. And don’t bring her on this mission. That’s on
ly asking for trouble.” It occurs to me she hasn’t made an appearance yet. “Where is she anyway?”

  “Home. After screaming at me for a while, she gave up and went home.”

  I slap his forehead. “Then why the hell did you sleep outside?”

  He flicks my forehead in return. “I needed to think. Frost bite is amazing for clearing a clogged head.”

  He’s about to say something else when Peter opens the door. “D’ante just called. Everything’s set.”

  I look at my watch. “It’s five in the morning in LA. He gets up at five?” Yet another example of how my perception of gang members is totally wrong.

  “I suspect he hasn’t gone to bed yet,” Max says.

  “Come on in,” Peter says. “Nigel wants to go over everything.”

  Everyone’s waiting inside, looking far more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than I would have expected given their late night.

  Nigel has his maps laid out on the table. “Nice of you two to finally show up.”

  All the seats are taken, so I sit on Gavin’s lap. I lean down to kiss him, and he pulls away.

  “You’re freezing, luv! What were you doing out there?”

  “Trying to save Max from himself,” I say.

  Nigel clears his throat. “May we begin? We have a lot to cover and not a lot of time.”

  I salute him. “Yes, sir!”

  “Cheeky brat,” he mumbles.

  All eyes are on Nigel. Greene, Max, and Peter have tablets out with satellite maps up. It feels so official. This is actually happening. It’s hard to believe Gio’s crackpot scheme is coming to fruition.

  “Now,” Nigel starts, “D’ante has placed the order. Roger’s been listening to the wiretaps, and we’ve got Rafa confirming that this is the end of their inventory. Of course, they’re celebrating because this’ll give them the cash infusion they need to stay afloat. They’re bottom-of-the-barrel broke. We’ve destroyed their entire infrastructure with the exception of their hostages. But even there, they’ve demanded ransom for three hostages this month, and none of that has produced a dime. We were concerned they would go on the prowl for new hostages, but thankfully they’re so worried about ‘Oaxaca’ that they’re keeping a low profile. This call from D’ante was their saving grace. We have them right where we want them.”

  He picks up a file and glances at it quickly. “From what we can tell, they have about twenty-two active members with leadership roles of any kind left. Possibly thirty. There’re dozens more on the periphery, but our intel indicates that when those top twenty fall, the cartel will topple like a house of cards. Oaxaca has already said they’re planning on swooping in and picking up the scraps.” He uses the folder to point at me. “If we can pull this off, you’ll finally be free and clear.”

  I don’t want to get my hopes up. It seems too good to be true. One afternoon of work and all of this becomes a distant memory?

  Gavin squeezes my hand. “One way or another, this is over. Just a few more days.”

  Everyone’s eyes are on Nigel as he continues to lay out the plan. “D’ante says he wants to make the deal in two days, which means Morelia will pack up and get the trucks across the border about three hours before the meet.” He points out locations on the map. “My crew will take over the trucks here. We’ll have a jammer with us so they won’t be able to report back there’s been a problem. We’ll house the trucks and the men here.” He points at a warehouse north of Nogales in Rio Rico. From what I can remember of that part of Arizona, it’s nothing but dirt, cactuses, and tumbleweed. “This will also serve as the truck exchange location.”

  He turns to Greene and Sully as he points at another spot. “We’ll have your base of operations in here. The site has already been wired with audio and video.” He points at a building further up I-10. “Lily and Gavin will be here to make the exchange with the kid.” He turns to Greene and Sully. “We also have this building wired, but there’s not much cover here for the agents to hide. We’re bringing in a few dumpsters and shipping crates to give you and your men room to lay low until you’re ready to move in.”

  Being the only one here who’s never been a cop or solider, I feel totally lost, but everyone else is nodding. “So how does this play out exactly? Conceptually, I understand what we’re doing, but I’m still not sure how all the moving pieces will work together.”

  “As soon as we have the trucks in hand, we’ll send video to Rafa, letting him know we have his trucks and are happy to make an exchange: the kid for the drugs. At that point, he’ll have less than six hours to deliver the kid,” Nigel says.

  “He’ll be sweating balls,” Max says. “People don’t disappoint D’ante and live. With how overextended Rafa is, we think he’ll deliver the kid wrapped up in a nice bow.”

  “Once Rafa agrees to the terms, we give him two locations,” Nigel explains. “One to send his men to collect the trucks and one to bring the kid so that it can be a simultaneous exchange with the least amount of risk. We’re guessing he’ll send his best men to the truck site, which means that’ll leave the hostage house vulnerable. Once you give the word that you have the kid, we’ll give him the trucks.”

  “The team of agents in each location will move in at the same time,” Greene says while spreading cream cheese on a bagel.

  “The bad guys go to jail, and the agents score a huge win,” Sully chimes in.

  Gavin’s cell rings, and he taps my bottom, asking me to get up. He kisses my cheek before heading out to the terrace to take his call. He’s been much more involved in the planning than I have, so he already understands all of this. I, on the other hand, have a million questions.

  I move next to Nigel on the sofa. Looking over his shoulder, I try to decipher his maps. “When do we rescue the hostages?”

  “The Mexican team, led by Isla, will infiltrate the hostage house at the exact moment the agents move in on the trucks,” Nigel says.

  I groan. “I was so hoping I’d seen the last of her.”

  Richard wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You and me both.”

  Peter elbows him. “Knock it off. You know she’s been a critical part of this team, and the hostage extraction can only go off without a hitch because of her. I know she’s a piece of work, but she’s devoted.”

  Richard throws his napkin on his now-empty plate. “Devoted, yes. But with that devotion comes recklessness, impulsivity, and a hot head. She and I have too much water under our bridge for there to be even a remote chance of an amicable relationship. I told Nigel I’d work with her and I’ll try not to shoot her. That’s the best I can offer.” He looks at his watch. “Speaking of the witch, she and Roger are due to call any minute now. Time to get to work.” He picks up his plate, drops it on the room service cart, then sits next to Nigel.

  Max puts down his sandwich. “You know how I feel about her, Slugger, but she’s actually been a huge asset. In addition to whatever she’s doing in Mexico, she’s organized a press blitz. She has a contact in the PR department of Interpol, so the moment the arrests go down, she’ll send some of the video footage to him, and he’ll issue a press release of this Interpol/FBI collaborative effort to bring down a major Mexican cartel that’s wreaked havoc on the people of Mexico. The press will spread the story like wildfire, and once all those positive accolades are out, even the mole won’t be able to contain it.”

  I furrow my brow. “I just don’t get her. On paper, her actions seem so noble, but in 3-D, she’s such a colossal bitch. I’ve never done a thing to her, yet she despises me. At first I thought it was over Gavin, but it seems like it’s more than that. Everyone tells me she’s had such a hard life, but I’m thinking it’s a cop-out. She’s just a bitch, through and through.”

  “Max,” Sully calls from the other room where he and Greene are seated at the table with a cell phone between them. “Palmer from the San Diego office is on the phone. He wants to go over some details.”

  Max hops up then jogs across the room. “Duty calls.”
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  Peter moves next to me on the sofa. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I think she’s jealous of you. She’s been fighting this fight for so long and hasn’t made any headway. Then here you come in, and in less than a few weeks, you’ve slayed the dragon. She’s let her anger destroy her, and despite all you’ve been through, you’re still happy.” He motions to Gavin on the terrace. “You’re in love. You have hope for a future. She’s so damaged, I think at this point, she’s destined to be bitter and alone for the rest of her days.”

  He tells me her history, and when he finishes, I’m speechless. What can I possibly say? That poor woman has really been through hell.

  Peter continues, “She talked to me about what happened with Gavin, one night when she was so slozzeled she couldn’t see straight, and she told me that she didn’t care that Gavin had turned her down, but she was amazed he loved you so much that even though you were supposedly dead, he wouldn’t betray you. She can’t fathom what that kind of love is like, and it pissed her off to no end.”

  I bite my lip and nod. If I didn’t have Gavin to pull me through all of this, would I be like her—hostile and resentful? I’ve had so much support and unconditional love, but if I’d had to face this alone, would I still believe in happy endings? Even with all of them and their love, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the possibility that things will turn out okay. Perhaps I can relate to her a little more than I would care to admit. “Wow. It really goes to show, you never really understand what’s going on in someone else’s head. I’ll try to cut her some slack.”

  “Hey, you bunch of tossers, quit your gabbing and get your arses over here,” Nigel shouts from across the room. “Roger and Isla are on the line to go over the schematics.”

  “Don’t worry.” Peter pats my knee then gives it a little squeeze. “In a few days, this’ll all be over, and you’ll probably never have to see her again.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears,” I say as he walks over to Nigel.

  Chapter Thirty–Seven

  Lily