by Marie Wathen
Slipping out of the booth, he stands in front of me. “Don’t start shit, Blues. I know better than you how worthy she is. Our relationship is none of your damn concern.”
“Why are you here without her tonight?” His nearly black eyes squint and he takes a step forward, studying me. Chest to chest we are both breathing hard. The muscles in his neck harden and his shoulders swell, like he is preparing to hit me. Too bad for him, I’ve been ready for this fight long before tonight, and I am going to fuck him up.
“Why do you care?”
“You told me she was different, and that you weren’t going to do this shit anymore.” Damn, I sound like a jealous prick. Not cool. My brain is screaming at me to fix this immediately. Readying myself for his first punch, I provoke, “Natalie told me she was returning from vacation and coming here to celebrate.” If she’s not here with you, who do you think she is with tonight?”
His eyes sweep the room, searching. Because I am indeed drunk off my ass, I glance over my shoulder copying the action, not anticipating this as a ploy to get me to look away, so he can sucker-punch me. However, he doesn’t take advantage of my inebriated state like a tool. Instead, completely concerned, he asks, “She isn’t here yet?”
I narrow my eyes on him, mostly because I can’t believe that as much as he claims to care for her that he hasn’t been eagerly anticipating her return, like I have. Also, seeing deep worry lines crinkling his forehead, I think that maybe he is concerned. Well, as much as a douche bag is capable.
“What are you two doing?” Natalie asks, strolling up hand-in-hand with Jude. I jerk around, glancing from her to him. I drop my hand on Jude’s shoulder and shove, moving him away so I can bitch at him. Natalie whines, “Don’t keep him too long. I’m ready to go home.”
After we step out back, I complain, “She isn’t back yet.”
Undisturbed, he shrugs. “Maybe she decided on waiting until tomorrow.”
“No,” I bite out, “Something is wrong!” I feel it in my gut, and he won’t convince me otherwise. Angel isn’t flaky, and I trust her promise. She wouldn’t stand me up. Trembling, I force a hand through my hair, jam my other fist into my stomach and insist, “I know it here.”
“Could be…Your gut is usually right on,” he agrees cautiously, monitoring my downward spiral into full-blown paranoia. “I’ll make some calls. If the local PD’s have worked any accidents involving her black Ducati, then I’ll check with the hospitals. Once I find her, I will have Natalie go–”
“The hell you will.” Wobbling, I press a hand against the outside wall and shake my head. “You call me! I will go to the goddamn hospital and stay with her.”
His eyes rake over me, and he chuckles. “You are shitfaced. There is no way in hell you can take care of her when you can’t even stand without using the wall behind you for support.”
Pissed off because of his accusation, I push off the cold brick and step up to him, bringing my face within an inch of his. Spinning with the credence of something unfamiliar piercing deep inside of me, I glare at him. He can’t understand what I’m feeling. Hell, I can barely decipher one piece of this crazy emotional mind game that I’m trapped in. Simply, I’m spellbound. There has never been a woman, perhaps any person, who has made me feel so damn much and it scares the living hell out of me. I don’t know what’s happening, or why I’m suddenly behaving like a goddamn insecure chick. All I know is that, so much more than I relish seeing Nelson buried six feet under, or owning an eight million dollar mansion on the highest mountaintop, or even enjoying my next cigarette, I need Angel in my arms. And I want that for the rest of my pathetic excuse of a life. My lungs pull hard needing oxygen, the channels leading to my heart work vigorously, and my eyes sting like a motherfucker. Squeezing them tightly against the hurt, I beg him to understand, “That is my girl!”
Seeing the terror in my eyes when I open them again, he grabs my face with both hands, gaining my attention, and then he agrees, “I know she is.” Repeatedly nodding his head, he promises, “We will come get you.”
Bobbling my head weakly, I sniff and brush off a wet spot from under the corner of my eye with the back of my hand, and then looking down at the ground, I say, “Yeah, okay.”
“For now, I’m putting your ass in a taxi and you are going home to sleep this shit off.” He wraps a hand around my upper arm and turns me toward a heating and air conditioning unit. “Sit, stay.” I growl like a dog, since that is how he is treating me. “I’m going to grab my wife and then we’ll get you out of here.” He whips around quickly, dashing back inside the club.
Feeling the effects of all the alcohol, I sit down roughly, pulling out my smokes and finding the pack empty. Titling my head back, I toss the crushed box upward and cuss the sky, “I want just one motherfucking break!”
“Those things are going to kill you,” a voice from the shadowy side of the building behind me says. “Better you quit now before you waste more on something that you don’t need.”
“You know what…” I snap, turning my head around to give this dickhead a piece of my mind, “…heed your words, mister. I’m in no damn mood for one more person telling me anything else tonight.”
He stops walking just outside of the light, keeping his face obscured so I’m uncertain if I know him. His voice isn’t familiar. “I believe that I might be the one person who doesn’t apply to that declaration.”
“Seriously? Unless you are looking to tote an ass-whooping it would be wise to get the fuck away from me.”
“Mr. Sloane, I have something that you want, and if you don’t come with me, you will regret it.” His tone isn’t as threatening as that statement, but I believe this guy means business.
“Who in the hell are you?” I challenge, standing up straight and feeling renewed clarity move rapidly through my head.
“Introductions can wait. I have valuable information to barter, but this isn’t the place for that conversation. You’ll need to come with me.”
“Not a chance,” I push, knowing that even if I am still nearly blitz out of my mind from all the liquor that I drowned in earlier Jude will be returning soon and together we’ll deal with this dumb bastard.
“You don’t even know what I have to offer in return for you coming with me and agreeing to help with my cause.” I shake my head. And I couldn’t care less. “Use this opportunity to stop being a stupid fuck, Mr. Sloane.”
Forcing down the building violent aggression, I step toward him completely unafraid of who he is, if he has back up, or the kind of weapon he is probably pointing toward me this very second. Some part of my anesthetized mind remembers that Zeke and Bales are probably watching our exchange. I’m surprised they aren’t already jumping this fucker. “In less than three seconds, you are gonna regret staying around after that fucking comment.”
“Ignore my request and two people who mean a great deal to you will suffer unnecessarily. Others who care for them will also hurt because of this pathetic self-absorbed pity party. Now, I’m turning around and walking toward my car. I expect you to follow so we can leave before your partner returns.”
My eyes bug out of my head and I can’t swallow down the spit that is currently stuck in the back of my throat. How in the hell does this bastard know that Jude is my partner?
“I don’t have a partner, but I do have loyal employees who will kill–”
“You are wasting time,” he shouts, stepping into the faint lighting radiating from the light pole about fifteen feet away. He is a large man, a few inches shorter than me. He wearing all black, including the Velcro strap and duty belt, which secures his matte black side arm. Hardness cutting from his grey eyes is emphasized by deep lines–lines earned by seeing or going through hell. “Mr. Kingsley is in danger, but not tonight. However, I can’t say the same about Angel.”
“Son of a bitch!” I draw back my arm, ready to knock him out for that threat, but my foot slides across something in front of me, and I lose balance. After dropping down on
to one knee, I jam both fists into the hard pavement below and push upward, but he moves faster. He towers over me with a stiff hand pressing on my shoulder to keep me in place, and I glance up seeing stone determination set in the planes of his hard face.
“I am not the person you should you be fighting against, Mr. Sloane. I know where she is, and I can take you to her,” he confesses. “She is alive, but sadly I don’t know how much longer she’ll remain in that condition.”
My angel is in danger, and I’m powerless to save her unless I give into this stranger’s demands. Heartache shreds me, and I suck in a sharp breath. I’m so fucked.
“Only you hold the power to help her and to prevent anything happening to everyone else who you care deeply about.”
Without hesitation, I tell him, “Whatever it is that you want, I’ll do it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“No, seriously, my head is on the pillow, and I’m going to crash,” I lie, talking to Jude on the phone while glaring across a small table at the stranger who dragged me to a roach-infested motel in the heart of Atlanta instead of taking me directly to Angel. “Call me immediately when you find her.”
We disconnect and I begin interrogating him, “Who are you?”
He pulls his eyes away from his cell phone, drops it into his back pant pocket and then he admits. “My name is Max.” He pours more coffee into the paper cup sitting in front of me and then leans back placing his ass on the desk behind him.
I snort and push, “Just Max?”
“Yes,” he asserts and then says, “I know that you want to turn this into some cross-examination, but I don’t want to play games. Neither of us have time for them.” I nod. “You are a very powerful man, Mr. Sloane. Prior to taking over the cartel you were a well-liked police officer in this very city.” He tips his head toward the glossy window, separating us from the dark night speckled with tiny lights coming from the tall buildings in the skyline. “I am also a very powerful man with friends in extremely high places and also way down in bottomless gutters. Most importantly, I have loyal connections inside the government, and I have a long-term relationship with a select few within your former agency. I know things.” My eyes narrow on him suspiciously. “Before you ask, let me assure you, I didn’t bring you here tonight to blackmail you for your secretive information.”
Obviously, Max is aware of my undercover role. If he doesn’t want to extort money from me, like he claims, then what is his angle? “What is this knowledge going to cost me, Max?”
“Your unwavering allegiance to ridding the world of an evil that is growing too damn powerful each day,” he replies, his steely glare holds me in place for long steady heart beats. Finally, he continues, “I need someone with your unrelenting resolve to lead a small faction. Your good judgment failed when you decided to join forces with Nelson in the hopes of bringing him down. While studying you, I noticed a profound determination that I require from the members on my team. Nothing stops you from doing what you feel is right, even though we both know that this case is by far the worst idea that anyone has ever heard of.” I grunt disagreeably. “I’m giving you the chance to correct the mistakes that you’ve made over the past two years.”
“You may not agree with my choices, but I have damn good reasons for doing them.”
“Reasons? Ah, yes. Your reasons were to punish a man who destroyed your happy family life when he killed your parents.” I don’t reply, but anger is simmering within my gut. “But, Mr. Sloane, evaluate the situation. Are you not seeking justice for a man whom you are not proud of and a legacy that you loathe?”
Too far, he has gone too damn far on this one. Grabbing the edge of the table, I lean toward him and shout, “My mother also died on that goddamn plane.”
“Indeed,” he nods, “but she was far from innocent. She knew exactly what kind of life she was choosing being with your father, and what life she was offering her children. Not once did she turn away from him, or insist that he completely leave behind his precious business–a business that has a singular purpose…to destroy. Remember why you went into law enforcement in the first place. Do the right thing. Join me, and save people again, Mr. Sloane.”
The words hang in the air between us. For several seconds, I just stare at him while they slowly absorb and begin making sense. Rising from my chair, I move over to the second floor window and stare out toward the horizon. My decision to avenge has always been fueled from the loss of my mother. Having her stripped from my sibling’s lives was the one motivator that kept me in this disgusting life. Attacus tried to open my eyes to the situation, but tossing my father’s name back at me did nothing to change my mind. For two long years, I have stayed in the game focusing on providing vindication for my remaining family. Urban was too young, Oakley was so lost, and Indie crashed in on herself and gave up on living for a time after mom died. As much as I tried to be there, as much as I wanted to shelter them from the horrible pain that the truth would bring, I was helpless to make things better for any of them. But, Max is right. Amelia Sloane knew everything that my disgusting father was and she never thought about the consequences that her children would someday face because of her self-centered decisions. She is just as guilty as the cartel for taking away our family.
Our family is in ruins worse now than ever before because I put this irrational desire ahead of their safety. What have I done?
I’ve been selfish with this focal point that has led me away from those who matter, the people that I love more than this destructive need to satisfy my sick vendetta. The lifeless feeling encapsulating my heart burns with a renewed sensation. My family, friends and the woman that I am falling for needs me. I’ll be damned if I let the ghosts of my dead parents rule my choices for one more second.
“When can I see Angel?” I ask, staring at his blurry reflection in the window pane.
He glances down at his cell phone before offering, “Soon.”
I turn around and fold my arms tightly over my chest, searching for anything in his expression to tip me off that he is a lying bastard. Either he is a really good liar, or I need more coffee to help sober me up. Miserably, I request, “Tell me what I must do.”
“You offer yourself to me, leading this group by my specific order. I’ll rephrase that, agree to let nothing and no one sway your focus from this one goal. Once you’ve pledged yourself to my cause, I will provide a way to save all who you love.”
“And if I decide to pass on this arrangement?”
“You continue your undercover role, and pretend that this little disruption never happened.” He doesn’t even blink when he assures, “I won’t coerce you into signing on. But, please keep one thing in mind. Even if you hide your family and friends away in some foreign country, they will remain targets. Their association to you, especially after the recent bust with the shipment out of Mexico, assures a lifetime of living on the run. You know as well as I do that Juan Arturo isn’t the type of man who lets go of twenty million dollars without serving up a hefty dose of retribution. Patience is his claim to fame in this game. He will wait you out and then the first time that you lower your guard, he will converge on them, and wipe out everyone that you love.”
My stomach lurches and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the vomit down. I am terrified with the thoughts of losing any of the people who matter the most to me. I am totally crushed by the choices that I am left with, accepting this stranger’s alliance. What other options do I have? My plan certainly isn’t working. “As long as you provide protection for every person that I care about, and believe me, it is a long fucking list.” He nods once. I crane my neck back around, facing the window, and swallow hard before consenting, “Then I agree.”
Lying to everyone won’t be an easy task, especially with Jude. After all, we are partners, and I would be pissed if he pulled this kind of shit on me. My brothers and sisters will fight me tooth and nail, but I don’t care. It must be done and at some point they’ll get over it. With Angel tho
ugh, I must keep my distance until Max’s plan is done. That is his other requirement. Honestly, what kind of relationship can I offer when I can’t be truthful with her? I can’t deny it, she is going to hate me, and I wouldn’t blame her either. One day, hopefully soon, I will tell her everything. The first things that I will confess are my feelings.
Max begins formulating an elaborate plan that covers every aspect for each person I care about. Then when I’ve had more coffee than any human should consume, he makes me repeat the whole twisted scenario back until he is happy that I’ve got it. Fucking bastard.
An hour later, I have each phase down to a T, and he finally calls it a night. “This may seem like bullshit to you, Mr. Sloane,” he offers, removing his firearm from his belt and securing it in a briefcase, and then replacing his black UnderArmour shirt with a light teal polo. “But the sacrifices that I make, that I have been making for many years are much more important than yours are to me, and yet, I’m risking even more by making this deal with you.” Looking at him behaving all lonerish and well-prepared for just about anything, I fucking doubt that he has anyone out there as important as I have. He locks his case before turning back around and instructing, “Clean yourself up, and then we’ll head out to see Sam.”
Rising out of my chair, I walk up to the sink located in the tiny space just outside the bathroom. I turn on the cold water and then cover my face, scrubbing the pads of my fingers into my closed eyes. The coolness aids in removing away the lingering effects of my massive alcoholic binge. Pausing with droplets of water falling from my chin, I glance at his reflection in the mirror and ask, “Who is Sam?”
“Sam is…like a relative,” he says, holding my questioning stare. “You know her as Angel. She can’t know that you came to see her, or that you know any of this, or me.”