by Charles, Eva
“You’re a jerk,” I say half-heartedly.
“Part of my effusive charm.” He kisses my forehead, right above the bridge of my nose. “I needed it too,” he admits. “More than I realized. I’m not used to tiptoeing around you like you’re going to break in the wind. It was making me edgy.”
I smile. “You always act like I’m going to break in the wind.”
“Not in bed. And I never tiptoe around you. Ever.”
He lays a steady hand on my belly. “You sure you’re okay?” His light-filled eyes flicker over my face. I want to curl up next to him, to wake up beside him. Just for tonight.
“Stay with me tonight,” I plead softly. “For what’s left of it.”
“If you want me to fall asleep next you, you’ll have to move back to my house. I won’t be doing it here.”
“I need more time. I need the space this place offers me to think.”
“Eleven thousand square feet isn’t enough space for you to think in?”
“JD.”
“Gabrielle, I’ll give you everything you need, and most of what you want. But I can’t abide by you leading me around by the dick. That is not going to happen. You want someone to keep your feet warm at night, I’ll clear out a few drawers for you. Say the word. Otherwise, you’ll have to get yourself some thick socks.”
He rolls out of bed and kisses my head tenderly. “Good night, darlin’.”
I hear him activate the alarm, before the front door clicks shut.
22
Julian
Smith wants to run along the ocean this morning, which means two things. One, I have to put my ass in the car before dawn to get there, and two, he has something to talk about.
“What’s up with the new route this morning?”
“I like to change things up.”
“Right. Does this have anything to do with your mini-vacay?”
“Yeah, let’s talk about my mini-vacay. We’ll start with you carrying Gabrielle out to your truck, over your fucking shoulder like a Neanderthal. You can’t be doing shit like that. You’re a fool to challenge Rafe and Gus. They’ve been on edge since the fire. You were lucky you didn’t end up with a bullet in you. Don’t put it past them.”
“I didn’t kidnap her. She didn’t have any damn shoes on.”
Smith shakes his head. “Don’t complain to me when a surgeon’s digging a bullet out of your ass.”
There’s no way I’m telling him Gabrielle begged for it, so I change the subject. “How was the visit with your parents?”
“I talked with my father,” Smith says, stretching out his calves against the truck. “About everything.”
“I really wish—”
“Yeah. You made your point before I left. You ready, or you need more time to stretch those glutes you sit on all day?”
I stop stretching and glare at him. “Let’s go. Anything to make you stop talking about my ass.”
He smirks, but his light mood doesn’t last long. “Would you be willing to have Sayle swept?”
“What exactly does that mean, have Sayle swept?”
“Let’s just say you and I aren’t the only ones who are mighty worried about what’s going on with SOLO. My father said there’s a lot of concern about North Africa. The president is deviating wildly from what US policy has been in the region for decades with no rhyme or reason. When I told him about SOLO, he thought it might hold some of the missing pieces.”
“What exactly did your father say about how SOLO might fit in with the policy changes in North Africa?”
“He said it’s a matter of national security.”
“What else?”
“You think he gave me details? I still have a security clearance, but not the same level he has. There are people in and around the administration who feel the president is inexperienced in foreign policy, and others who just don’t trust his motives. That seemed obvious from our conversation. The fact that they’re even consulting my father on this matter suggests there’s a problem.”
“Who is ‘they’?”
“Not sure. National Security, Defense, FBI, CIA. Maybe all of them.”
“Which agency wants to sweep Sayle?”
“I’m just a go between. An errand boy. I don’t have any real answers. But I’d guess Defense. Maybe the FBI. I suppose even the CIA could be involved.”
“I thought the CIA didn’t operate on American soil?”
Smith grunts.
I’ve been in charge at Sayle for a very short time. My grandfather didn’t have anything to hide, and I can’t imagine my brothers are involved in anything shady related to the company. I’m certainly not doing any sketchy shit. “Fine. They can come in and look around the SOLO project. But that’s it. A lot of what we do is proprietary and I can’t risk it getting into the wrong hands. It could cost the company millions.”
“We’re talking about national security, JD. That trumps profits. But it’s a voluntary search, so they might be willing to negotiate the terms. Don’t forget, they can always get a warrant and go in without your permission. It’s a pain in the ass, but they do it all the time.”
“I need to talk to a lawyer.”
“No one’s going to tell you not to consult with a lawyer. But make sure you know who you’re talking to. Even a whiff of this gets out and we’re screwed. This is a big fucking deal, and he’s the president. Don’t share any information, even with your lawyer, that’s not absolutely necessary.”
“I don’t trust the firm that represents Sayle. They’re competent, but too beholden to my father. I’ll contact my personal lawyer. I’m confident his firm can be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”
“What should I tell my father?” Smith asks, as we take the bend and the ocean comes into full view, with Fort Sumter in the distance. The first shots of the Civil War were fired there. There’s something poetic about it. This might be my first chance for a real shot at bringing my father down. I drag in a breath through my nose and blow it out.
“Tell him it’s a go. We just need to hammer out the perimeters of the search.”
“Good choice. They’d go in with or without your permission. My father has a good poker face, but he paled when I told him about the antidote to the nerve agent SOLO is working on. I could feel the chill coming off of him from halfway across the room.”
“This is going to be war if my father finds out I authorized the search. I want everyone’s security beefed up. My brothers’, Gabrielle’s, Sweetgrass—everything.”
“I’m well aware of the implications. Security is already tight, but it will get tighter. Especially yours.”
“I’m not worried about myself.”
“You should be.”
I’m not wasting any breath discussing my safety with Smith. “How are they going to get past security and all the safeguards that are in place around the SOLO project? It’s like a concrete wall. Even Chase can’t penetrate it. And you know how good he is.”
“Don’t worry about that part. We’re talking about the highest-level intelligence. They’ll look around and take everything they need without leaving a trace.”
“Are we talking about a raid? Because I can’t have them come in and walk out with all our data and computers.”
“Doubt it. I don’t see a raid at this stage. Too risky. They’ll make digital copies of everything they need. There’s bound to be some paperwork for you to sign. It might give you a better sense of the scope.”
“So what now?”
“Sit tight. I’m sure someone will be in touch.”
“I liked it better when we didn’t talk business on these runs.”
“Me too.”
* * *
The paperwork arrived within two hours of my conversation with Smith. It was handed to me by a kid who didn’t look any older than sixteen, carrying a messenger bag and wearing hipster tennis shoes.
After he leaves, I open the cardboard envelope and examine the sparse paperwork giving the Federal Gove
rnment permission to conduct a search on a company owned, in part, by the president of the United States. Date and time unspecified. Jesus Christ. The paperwork grows heavy in my hand as the full impact of the situation dawns on me. This isn’t simply about my family or the company. It’s not about vengeance. This is about country.
I lower myself into my grandfather’s chair and call my lawyer back. “It’s here,” I tell him.
“On my way,” he answers.
There is too much secrecy surrounding SOLO. My father kept too tight of a grip on the project. From the moment I first spoke to Rofler, it was clear SOLO was dirty. Then Chase confirmed my worst fears with the information about the antidote they were developing for the hybrid nerve agent. A nerve agent that’s a weapon of war. No other use for it.
I’m not someone who would normally play nice with the Feds, but I will not allow DW to use my grandfather’s company to commit a crime against humanity. Because that’s where this feels like it’s headed.
I don’t have to think twice about how Julian Davis Sayle would have handled this situation. I press the heel of my hand into my chest and feel the outline of my grandfather’s dog tag. I’ve worn it every day since he gave it to me. Find something in life to motivate you that’s bigger than yourself, he told me. He was a member of the 47th Infantry that liberated Dachau. My grandfather believed that medical research should only be conducted to promote the human good. And that’s how he ran his company. His example gives me everything I need to sign the paperwork and send it on its way. Sayle will not contribute to evil. Not on my watch.
A few hours later, a different messenger comes by. He’s no less convincing than the first. He hands me an iPad and watches as I affix my signature to a digital copy of the paperwork. When he leaves, the original paperwork I was instructed to leave at the corner of the desk, is gone too. I didn’t even see him pick it up. Impressive.
A burden lifts from me as I watch him get into a white van and drive away. Maybe my nightmare is finally coming to end.
I turn from the window and gaze at my phone on the desk. It’s premature to celebrate, but I call Gabrielle anyway. “Let’s go out tonight,” I say, even before hello.
“Out?”
“Yeah. Some people call it a date. It’s an old-school thing.”
“A date?”
I smile at the surprise in her voice. “Yeah. We haven’t done much of that, and I thought a night out might be something we both could use.”
“Where are you thinking about going? I don’t have anything fancy to wear.”
“Well that could be easily rectified if you weren’t so damned stubborn. But you won’t need anything fancy where we’re going.”
“Should I eat dinner first?”
“Stop trying to wheedle information out of me. You don’t need to eat dinner. I’ll make sure you get fed.”
The truth is I had no idea where we were going. Not yet.
23
Gabrielle
JD knocks on Smith’s door at precisely eight-fifteen, wearing a leather bomber jacket and a pair of jeans that look like they’ve spent plenty of time inside a washing machine. Soft and faded, they look perfect with his scruffy jaw. If I nuzzle my nose into his neck, I bet he’ll smell like that boozy cologne he loves, the one with the faint undertones of tobacco and vanilla. I love it, too.
“You ready?” he asks, his hand buried in a jacket pocket.
I lower my eyes, letting them skim over my outfit. I don’t have any jewelry, and while my clothes fit, they’re not really right even for a casual date. But I did buy myself a tube of lip gloss and some mascara, and I’m neat and clean, of course. Maybe I need to reconsider taking him up on his offer to lend me money for clothes.
“I’m ready.” I gaze at him. “This is the best I have to wear.” I sound apologetic, and I am a little.
“You look beautiful. What you have on is perfect.”
“We both know that’s not true.” I look down at my feet and swallow a big lump of pride. “If you’re still willing to let me borrow money to buy a few things—I would pay you back as soon as I can, although it might be a while. But no personal shoppers and I can’t accept any gifts.”
“Of course not.” He smiles. “Nothing would make me happier than to lend you some money. I have no doubt you’ll pay me back.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“But Gabrielle, you do look beautiful. The color’s back in your cheeks. And your eyes have some life in them again.”
Most of the time now, I feel like I’m going to make it. It’s going to be hard, but I’ll survive. “Where are you taking me?”
“167 Raw. We’ll sit at the counter and eat some freshly shucked oysters, and then go listen to some music.”
“A real date.” I grab my shawl from a hook near the door.
JD scowls as he takes the shawl from me and wraps it around my shoulders. “When you go shopping, buy yourself a coat.”
“The money has to come with no strings, except that it’s paid back in full, with interest. You can’t dictate what I buy.”
“I never agreed to any interest. And there are no strings other than you need to buy a coat. And don’t act all offended. It’s not like I told you to buy some sexy lingerie. Although you should feel free to indulge me. It’s a coat for Chrissake.”
“Today it’s a coat. Tomorrow it’ll be boots and sweaters. That’s how it is with you.”
“Probably. But you won’t do it anyway. Because that’s how it is with you.”
I stand on tiptoes and kiss his cheek, inhaling the heady smell that’s JD. “I’ll buy a coat if it makes you happy.”
* * *
I wake up in the bed at JD’s apartment, downtown. I’m naked under the quilts and he’s nowhere to be seen. The bedroom door is shut tight, and I don’t see any light under it. He must be in the living room or in the kitchen. He wouldn’t go back to Sweetgrass without me.
We stuffed ourselves with oysters and hard-shell clams and then snuck into Kelly’s Lounge after the band started playing. JD called ahead and they saved us a table in back. For a few hours, all I did was enjoy the sexy man who held my hand or swung his arm around my shoulders to pull me close. There is nothing in this world as scrumptious as a relaxed JD. Not even an oyster just plucked from the ocean. I loved everything about the evening. Everything.
While we danced, he suggested we spend the night at his apartment downtown. He murmured it in my ear while he squeezed my ass. It wasn’t actually a suggestion. More like a demand. But I let it go, because at the time I thought it was the best idea he’d ever had. And it was.
I reluctantly crawl out of the warm bed to use the bathroom, then slip on his discarded shirt, and go in search of him.
I find him lying on the sofa in a pair of low-riding sweatpants, an arm slung across his forehead. “Hey,” he says softly, then holds out a hand. “C’mere.”
“I woke up and you were gone,” I say, making my way over to him.
“Couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. But looks like I did anyway.” He pulls me onto him, our abdomens touching. I wriggle to get comfortable, smiling as he winces at the movement.
“What is it about men? Sex isn’t too intimate, but somehow lying beside a woman and falling asleep afterward is too much. They need to run and hide.”
The edges of his mouth twitches. “You think I run from intimacy?”
I nod.
“Wrong. You’re lying on top of me wearing my shirt and nothing underneath it. Squirming all over my cock. I’d say that’s pretty intimate. And I’m not running anywhere.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He kisses me and licks my lips before sliding his tongue into my mouth.
“Mmmm,” I moan softly. “You want to go back to bed?”
“What’s wrong with right here?” he says, rubbing his hands over my backside. Squeezing the cheeks to pull me closer.
“Here is good.”
He gazes at me and says nothing
. I’m not sure what he’s thinking.
“Tonight was fun,” I say quietly. “I forgot what a good dancer you are. All those cotillion classes your mother made you and Chase take to learn to become gentlemen.”
“Waste of time and good money.” He tenses after he says it.
“What’s the matter?”
JD presses a small kiss into the bridge of my nose. “Nothing.”
“No more secrets.”
His Adam’s apple bobs a couple times. I still have no idea what he’s thinking. “The accident happened while Chase and I were in that stupid class. We begged her not to make us go. But she insisted. If she had given in to us, Chase and I would have been in the car with them.”
I comb my fingers through his hair carefully, grateful, so grateful, for his openness. So grateful he wasn’t in the car with the others. I want to say the right thing, but I can’t find it. Instead I say something that I know will sound trite to him, but something I firmly believe. “You were spared because God had another plan for you.”
“I was spared to avenge their deaths.” His voice is cold.
Oh JD. “I don’t believe that’s true. And your mama wouldn’t have believed it either. She loved you. She would have wanted you to spend your life seeking something bigger than revenge.”
“My mother loved too much. She let it blind her.”
“You can never love too much.” I trace his lips, and he catches my hand and nips my fingers before kissing away the sting. I press my hips into him, and he smiles because he knows exactly where I’m feeling the sting of his teeth.
“I want you to tell me something,” he says quietly, holding my eyes with his. “I want to know why every time I have you on your belly, and hoist up your hips until you’re on your hands and knees, you stiffen. And you don’t relax, no matter how aroused you are, until we change positions. It happened tonight. But I’ve noticed it a few times before.”
“I never noticed.”