by S. M. West
“Fine, a couple of conditions,” Franco spits out and folds his arms over his chest. “No indication that it was me. You do it where and when I tell you, and ideally, no casualties, although I’m not averse to it. As for Anna, I reserve the right to change my mind up until she’s thirty.”
“No fucking way.” My clipped tone has his men inching a bit closer to us.
The hard glint in his eye and superior grin make me want to punch him in the face. There’s no point even agreeing to this because I’ll bet my life he’ll change his mind. Anna’s twenty-four, and six years is a hell of a long time for him to run into trouble where he’s going to want to forge an alliance with a marriage.
The reality is, he will change his mind no matter what our agreement is, and now that I’ve heard his terms, my suspicions are confirmed. I’ve got a loose plan in mind. It was to be a last resort because it’s not ideal, but I have to do what I have to do.
I’d naïvely hoped that maybe Franco would play ball, but now, hearing his condition, I know that’s not the case. The man will come after Anna no matter what the terms. That reality and the futility of what we’re trying to do hits me in the sternum like a roundhouse kick.
My plan will have to be put into place at some future date. This façade of an agreement is what I need to give me time to get everything into place.
“Well, take it or leave,” Franco orders.
Turning from us, he heads to the bar and takes a cigar from a box, one of the finest Cuba has to offer. Ry and I share a few glances and I’m fortunate to have him here. We’re fucked, and he knows what I’ve been mulling over is our only way out. Our negotiations today will only buy time. It’s not ideal, but it’s all we have.
“Twenty-six,” I counter, even though it’s absurd.
I’ve surprised him, and he pops his head up from lighting his cigar to look at us. The end glows red hot as he takes a long puff and smoke billows from his mouth on the exhale.
“Twenty-seven, and that’s my final offer.” We both nod, knowing we’ve made an agreement with the devil. “Very well, I’ll be in touch with the details.”
§
Two weeks pass before I get the call from Franco. In the meantime, we move Anna out of her aunt’s, which was another ordeal because she wanted to stay. It’s the only home she’s ever known.
I tried to impress upon her that while we made a deal with Franco, he could renege at any minute and unless I had men on her 24/7, I couldn’t keep her safe. She didn’t like it, but she understood.
Franco gave us five days to plan, and while we’d have liked more, it was a straightforward job to destroy Balducci’s shipment before he could make a profit. Franco’s intent was age-old, an eye for an eye, and while didn’t want the job linked back to him, he had to know that it wouldn’t be a stretch if Balducci accused him once all was said and done.
Last night, Carys became quiet after I told her and Anna that today was the day. I didn’t tell them everything, but I wasn’t going to keep things from them, even though my natural inclination was to protect them. I promised to let Carys in, rather than leave her blind to what I was doing.
After Anna calls it a night, I take Carys to bed. It’s early, but she’s been distant and quiet since dinner.
“Sweetness, talk to me.” I tilt her chin up and lightly kiss her.
“I’m just worried. I know you have to do it and I know I asked you to tell me everything, but maybe I don’t want to know it all.” On a slow exhale, her pretty mouth turns down into a frown.
With a small grin, I pull her close, into my arms, and kiss the top of her head.
“Too late. I will tell you what I can from now on and you can take it, I know you can. It’ll be fine tomorrow. It’ll all be over before you know it.”
“Yeah, right. There’s tonight and the whole day tomorrow that we have to get through. I won’t be able to think of anything else.”
“Well, I can help you, distract you.” My tone is suggestive.
We break apart and her smile matches mine. We both lean in, our lips crushing together as my tongue breaks through the crease of her lips, exacting and desperate. With my hand on her bottom, I lift and line her up with my growing erection. A growl pushes past my lips when she shivers in response to my touch.
“Christ, Sweetness, I need you now.”
With one sharp flex of my hips, she moans, tilting her head back as my cock rubs against the hot apex of her thighs. It feels so fucking good, even through our clothes.
“Take me,” she huskily whispers.
With the eagerness of a horny teenager, I’ve got her down to her underwear in seconds. If undressing your partner were an Olympic sport, I’d be taking home the gold. Staring at her sexy body, in white lace boy shorts and matching bra that barely contain every divine curve, makes my dick harden to steel.
My mouth roams greedily over her neck and I carry her to the bed. Stripping each other, our urgency and need can be tasted in our kisses. Once naked, my tongue flicks at her nipple and her knees shake.
I lay her on the bed and she spreads her legs, willing and eager for me as she plays with her breasts. Her hooded eyes are mesmerized by my hand pumping my cock a few times before I fill her, sensually taking my time. Savoring every thrust, moan, and clench, we ride the wave of heady bliss together.
We spend hours loving each other, making up for lost time, and awaken the next morning to pick up where we left off.
We don’t leave our room until nearly eleven in the morning and are greeted by Anna laying out another plate of muffins. She’s been baking.
“Good morning, sleepyheads—or should I say, did you get enough sleep?”
“Morning,” Carys says, heading straight for coffee.
“Morning, smartass,” I say, shoving a whole blueberry muffin in my mouth. Anna giggles and blushes as I grab for another muffin. “Damn, these are good, sis.”
She gasps, eyes widening as she stares at me in wonderment. Her lips slowly arch upward into a smile.
“Thanks, bro,” she says, coming toward me. She stands on her tippy toes and I still have to bend so she can kiss my cheek. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. That’s what you are to me. You’re very important to me, to both of us.” I wrap my arm around Carys’s waist and draw her in.
“Yes, you are,” Carys adds.
“Thanks, guys.” Anna pulls back, a bit uncomfortable but still smiling. “I’ve got to get ready for class. Eat as many muffins as you want, Evan.”
We spend the rest of the day together. I’ve cleared my schedule to be with Sweetness, both for my sanity and also for her comfort. As the clock rolls past five thirty, it’s time for me to get a move on. We’re meeting at HC to go over the plan and pack up our gear.
“I gotta go. Don’t wait up—I’ll wake you when I come in.” Leaning in, I press my lips to hers. She grins at me, her eyes glittering with determination.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not,” I immediately counter, as I head to the door.
Close on my heels, she defiantly says, “Yes, I am.”
“Dammit, Carys, you’re not!”
The air stills as we stare intently at each other. She knows I mean business. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she contemplates what to do.
“I need to go.”
“I can’t have you there. You are my only weakness.” My voice cracks as I grip the sides of her head firmly but gently.
Pulling her forehead into mine, I inhale her scent and gather my thoughts. I need to get through to her. This isn’t an option. She simply can’t come. Like mine, her breathing is heavy, and her warm breath tickles my face.
“You are my only weakness,” I repeat. “I can’t have you there. I know this about myself. Whenever you’re in the room, no matter the circumstance, you’re the only thing I can think about.”
“Evan…” Her hand trails over the side of my face. “I’m scared to
death of losing you again. We spent much of our lives leaving each other and I don’t know how to be okay with you leaving now. I know you’re coming back, but I don’t know how not to have this kneejerk reaction that I need to hang on to you for fear that I’ll never see you again.”
Tears fill her eyes and her voice wobbles. Her fear is palpable and it breaks me to know I’m putting her through this, even though we both know it must be done.
“I can’t fathom just getting you back only to lose you again. It would break me,” she cries.
Tugging her into my arms, I hold her tight and make us both a vow.
“I swear to you, on everything, on my life, I will come back to you. There’s no fucking way anything is stopping me from coming back to you. I swear to you, nothing will tear us apart. Everything will go as planned.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. You better come back to me, because if not, Evan Hart, you will wish that you never met me.”
“Not possible,” I jest.
“Oh, yes it is.”
“I’ll never regret you, ever.” My voice is low and raw. “And as for coming after me, I would expect nothing less from you.”
“You’re supposed to be shaking in your boots, scared of me, not all lovey dovey.” She playfully shoves at me.
“Never. You all fiery and angry only turns me on,” I confess, my voice heavy with desire.
I refuse to even consider that this might be our last time together, even with her fear right in my face, reminding me that fate hasn’t always been on our side, reminding me of all the times we were separated. I truly believe it won’t happen this time.
Now
Carys
AFTER EVAN LEAVES, I’M stir crazy, even with Anna, Tommie, and Tripp here—yes, Evan arranged for a posse to babysit me. I’m not sure if that’s because he didn’t want me to be alone or if he feared I’d go after him. Either way, I appreciate it. If I were alone right now, I’d be climbing the walls.
Tripp doesn’t know all the specifics because he can’t, but he insisted on being here and keeping me company. We both know there’s a high likelihood that what they’re doing is illegal and could implicate him if things go to hell in a handbasket. As FBI, he’d have an obligation to stop them, or worse, arrest them, if he knew what was going down.
“Here you go.” He hands me a glass of wine and sits down beside me.
For the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been watching Tommie with avid fascination. She’s with the team, sort of, watching and listening with an earpiece and her laptop. She refuses to let any of us look at what’s happening and while I hate it, I also get it.
As I observe, the courage to say what’s been on my mind for some time now rises within me. It won’t change anything, but I want the affirmation, if nothing else.
“You knew, didn’t you?” My deliberately vague question makes her head snap up, her expression confused. I was intent on getting her attention, and I succeeded.
“Pardon?”
“You were the only one who knew Evan was still in the city, weren’t you? You helped him set up his cover and watched me when he couldn’t, didn’t you?”
I try to keep my tone neutral, not accusatory. While I don’t like what they did, I can’t blame Tommie. She’s loyal to Evan and would likely do anything he asked, without hesitation. He saved her from something so unmentionable, he won’t even give me a clue.
I like knowing he wasn’t completely alone. I’d have preferred it to be me he leaned on, but I couldn’t have done what Tommie did. She’s a tech genius and was essential to his mission. Besides, having had time to digest that fact, I’m strangely comforted in knowing he was close by, even if I wasn’t aware at the time.
She brushes a dark lock behind her ear, worrying her lip as she contemplates. Clearing her throat, she glances down at the screen before answering.
“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry.” Her words and tone are genuine.
“I’m not angry. I’m glad he had you.”
“If it’s any consolation, I tried to talk him out of it. I really did. I also tried to get him to tell all of you.” She looks at Tripp, who’s sitting beside me and deeply interested in our conversation. “He didn’t know it, but I was also prepared to bring you all in if shit hit the fan. I wasn’t going to let him go down.”
Standing, I round the coffee table and sit beside her. She raises her hand to the top of the laptop as if she’s going to shut it, but hesitates. My eyes are glued to the screen where whoever has the camera strapped to them is running along between high, corrugated steel walls.
They come to the end, at what looks like an intersection, and I’m able to make out that it’s a container park and they are running between shipping containers.
“Who is that?”
I have more questions, wondering who they are and what they’re doing, but I bite my bottom lip and painfully swallow every single one of them because I know not to ask. She won’t tell me, and my inquisition might push her too far. She may end this screening and leave me in the dark. If Evan knew I could see this, he would not be pleased, but I need it. If I can’t be there, this is second best.
“Um, Carys, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Tommie’s usually self-assured voice is unsteady.
Our gazes meet and it’s no longer girlfriend to boyfriend’s coworker; we’re woman to woman. She understands what I need and she’s torn between giving it to me and honoring what we both know Evan would want.
Tripp’s now standing on the other side of Tommie and he, too, is intently watching the screen as we see this person stand beside another man in all black, including gloves and a balaclava on his head, with three holes for his eyes and mouth. I’m guessing it’s Tango, one of Evan’s men, based on the build of the guy.
“Please,” I beg as Tommie begins to lower the laptop screen. “We won’t say anything.”
“Carys, Tommie’s right, you shouldn’t watch this.” Tripp’s tone is firm and while he’s speaking to me, his eyes are as drawn to the screen as ours are.
“No, please.” My hand curls around Tommie’s wrist to stop the closure of the laptop. “I swear I won’t freak out or do something stupid, no matter what happens. Just please let me watch. It’s killing me to be worrying and not know how things are going.”
Perhaps it’s the raw vulnerability, the nakedness of my heart that she sees in my face. I’m at her mercy, and maybe it’s the heartfelt plea in my tone, but something stops her and she removes her hand. Tripp lets out a harsh breath on a snarl and my eyes flick to his, a silent warning in his gaze. He’s not pleased with me, but too bad. I’m a big girl and can handle this.
“Fine, but no sound,” Tommie grinds out, and then she takes my hand.
The guy’s holding what looks like a drill or something and he’s cutting the lock on the door, then two guys slink into the darkness of the container.
“What was that?”
“That was a cordless bolt cutter,” Tripp says, running a hand through his blond hair.
“What are they doing?” I can’t resist asking, although I know I shouldn’t.
Tommie sighs. “Carys, I can’t tell you—either of you, so don’t ask. Just watch.”
Like a young child always asking why, even after having received a response, I press. “Who has the camera on them?”
This time, she releases my hand and clasps hers together. Anna walks into the room and stares at the three of us sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. Reading the room accurately, she silently slips in behind me and does the same.
“Please…” Tommie begins.
“It’s Van,” Tripp offers, attuned to Tommie’s hesitancy.
Swallowing hard, I turn back to the screen as Anna lays her delicate hand on my shoulder and holds tight. As if we’re at the movies, watching some action flick, there’s utter silence as Evan and his men run between the containers, randomly opening some, and then two guys go into the darkness and come out a few minutes later.
It’s slight, but Tommie stiffens, as if she’s reacting to something she heard via her earpiece. My gaze moves over her facial features, which have tightened with pursed lips and furrowed brow. I don’t know what it is, but I know something is about to happen.
In the next instant, the screen’s aglow with brilliant, blazing yellows, oranges, and reds. Thousands of pieces of debris of varying sizes shoot out in all directions, and it’s indiscernible if it’s wood, metal, or who knows what. Several shipping containers have exploded and the camera swings away from the heat source.
As if the camera’s been thrown through the air, the picture is fast and fluid, fragments sailing past the lens before the only things visible are asphalt and the night sky. There’s blackness with small specks of glowing pieces landing on the ground in the distance, and that’s all we see. He’s down. A large metal scrap crashes to the ground only feet from the camera, from Evan.
Tommie gasps, Tripp releases a string of expletives, and Anna lets out a small sob, her nails digging into my flesh. My stomach bottoms out and my heart twists as tears sting my eyes. Dammit, he’s got to be okay.
“He was thrown from the explosion,” Tripp says, his explanation as much for us as it is for himself.
“Yeah.” Tommie’s voice cracks as she fiddles with her earpiece, pushing it farther in. “They’re coming to get him.”
The lens rises. It appears Evan is upright, and a man comes to stand directly in front of him. He’s saying something, but he too has a mask on, so I have no clue what. He nods his head, the image wobbles up and down, and then it’s shaky and jumpy as he begins to run. We all exhale simultaneously as Tommie slams the laptop shut.
My heart hammers against my rib cage and the tumultuous churning in my stomach lessens somewhat, but it’s still there. I need to see him, touch him, to make sure he’s okay.
“They should be home within the hour. It’s over.” She tucks the computer under her arm and before she can leave, I grab her hand.