My One Despair

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My One Despair Page 19

by Burgoa, Claudia


  “This place is too small for the four of us,” Keane complains, trying to sit in one of the chairs in the living room.

  “Would you like us to move this meeting to the Four Seasons, fucker?” Gage says.

  “I thought they were tight, like best friends,” I mention.

  Keane and Gage glare at each other. All the stories I’d heard about them being partners in crime don’t fit. I feel like I lived a lie while I was with Gage.

  Who is Gage Rodin?

  “Unless they’re fighting,” Easton answers. “Then you have to stop them or they’ll kill each other.”

  I hand Keane and Gage the bags of ice I prepared.

  “Thank you,” Gage mouths.

  I try not to flinch as I stare at his swollen left eye. His face still bears congealed blood and his clothes are an utter mess. Keane’s just as battered as his brother.

  “No offense, but why are you here and how did you find me?” I ask Gage despite fighting back a smile.

  More than eight years ago he was in my house. He was a bloody mess. Nose smashed, stained clothes and looking like his world was turning upside down. It’s like the cycle is closing.

  “Your dad, who’s pretty pissed at us, let us through,” Gage responds. “I told him I’d brought something I owe you.”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “What do you owe me?” I snarl.

  “An explanation,” he says.

  I look around the room and cross my arms. “Why’d you bring you brothers?”

  “We owe one to East, too,” Keane explains. “Gage proposed that we come here so you both could hear us out.”

  “Why do they owe you an explanation?” I asked Easton.

  “I need to know why they’re killing each other.” He answers me, sneering at his brothers.

  “Okay then, I’m all ears,” I say, leaning against the wall while I listen to Gage’s explanation.

  Thirty-Eight

  Gage

  It hadn’t been more than three hours since I’d dropped my girlfriend off at the airport, and I was already doing things out of the ordinary. I felt like an outlaw as I entered the bar searching for Ana. And there she was, just like the description said. Five foot three, dark hair, big brown eyes and red lips.

  “Look, lady, you can’t just be sitting around here without ordering a drink,” John was lecturing her.

  “She’s with me,” I cut in. “How are you, John?”

  “Where’s Alyson?” He looked around.

  “It’s none of your business,” I responded, thankful that he still remembered Tess and her fake ID.

  My eyes moved to the petite, curvy woman who I’d agreed to meet tonight. “Ana?”

  “Anamaria Guadalupe Leyva-Ramos, but everyone calls me Ana,” she said, smiling at me.

  “The similarities are uncanny,” she said while studying my features. “Your eyes are darker though.”

  “Where is he?” I scanned the room.

  She shrugged. “He said you’d bring me to him. Connor always does whatever he wants.”

  Connor? I rubbed my chin, confused. What the fuck was I getting into?

  “Well, then, let’s get moving,” I suggested.

  “Thank you for helping us,” she said.

  “I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” I disclosed.

  “He said you wouldn’t refuse once you learned the truth.”

  Of course he did, because Keane fucking Rodin thinks he can snap his stupid fingers and I’ll do whatever he wants.

  I glanced at Ana as we approached the car. What was her relationship with my brother? She was pretty, outgoing, and wore expensive clothes. High maintenance. Not Keane’s type at all. He liked simple, fun, friendly, and the kind of women who liked to get dirty—in every sense of the word. Cam would go for Ana in a heartbeat though.

  “You both look a lot like that guy, Gage Rodin,” she said when I pulled out of my parking spot. “Do people stop you in the streets?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.”

  It seemed like Keane hadn’t been too honest with her. I wondered if she was fishing for information or just trying to make conversation.

  What the fuck is my name? Do I need a cover?

  I hated my brother at that moment and regretted not going with Tess.

  “Are you twins?” She continued asking questions.

  That question told me more than I needed to know. He hadn’t disclosed much about the family. If he had, she’d know that we were the only siblings who weren’t twins. Still, he brought her to me, and he needed help. Why?

  “What’s your relationship with Connor?”

  “He works for my dad,” she said reapplying some gloss on her lips, not that she needed it. They were already too red. “He’s his right hand now.”

  I stayed neutral, but I wanted to kick her out of my car and fly away. What am I getting involved in? I was going to kick Keane’s ass. There’s no right hand in the FBI. This woman was from his secret life. Why the fuck did he bring her to me? He said several times that he could barely disclose information because he needed to keep us safe—and of course, he wasn’t allowed to talk about it. The fucker better have a good reason to break FBI protocol, or I was going to kill him.

  I thanked God that Tess wasn’t anywhere near this fucking mess. I could smell trouble and Keane. One often wasn’t too far from the other. When we entered the house, he was already on the couch drinking one of my beers.

  “Cozy,” he greeted me. “You need to set up a better security system though. It’s too easy to break into this place.”

  “Hello, Connor,” I enunciated the cover he was using.

  I looked around the living room. All the pictures of Tess and our family were gone. I glared at him. He shook his head and didn’t say a word. Great, I couldn’t complain without blowing his cover.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  “Ana and I need a favor and the time and space to get a few things in order. Since you’re going to be out of town, I wanted to borrow your place.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. He couldn’t be more wrong. I was staying for the next eight weeks, taking care of George and discussing my upcoming record along with next year’s tour with Kaden Hades. Kade wasn’t my agent or my manager anymore, but his opinions mattered to me.

  “Where are we staying, baby?” Ana scrunched her nose and then looked at me. “He’s right, your place is cute and cozy.”

  What is wrong with my place? I glared at her.

  “The guest room is the first one to your left,” Keane told her as if he knew the lay of the house by heart. When did he arrive?

  “I already set us up in there.”

  “How long have you been in my house?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he smirked.

  “Thanks, baby. I’m going to take a long bath. The trip was exhausting.”

  “We don’t have a bathtub,” I said. “The bathroom is right down the hallway.”

  “Why don’t we head out,” he suggested once she closed the door of the guest bedroom.

  “Who the fuck is that woman?”

  “Who the fuck is the redhead?”

  “My live-in girlfriend and future wife,” I grinned like an idiot.

  Tess wasn’t ready for the big question, but I had a ring in the safe. Soon, we’d be engaged, if she agreed. All I knew was that someday we’d be married.

  “Wife? You’re still a hopeless romantic.” He patted my back. “Thank fuck you got rid of Marti.”

  “Cut the crap, Keane. I know you know about Tess because you arranged this visit around her trip. Why did you hide our stuff?”

  “I made sure that anything important that’d lead to you, the family, or your precious girlfriend is tucked away. A security measure.”

  “Why?” I crossed my arms.

  “Simply put, Ana’s dad’s a drug lord.”

  “You’re dating the princess of a drug cartel?” I glared at him, freaking the hell out. “And you
brought her here, to my fucking house?”

  He lifted his palms. “I know, it sounds fucked up and it feels like I’m putting you in danger. Believe me, I’m not. I trust her.”

  “You can’t ask me to trust her because you tell me to. This isn’t just my house. Tess lives here. If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you,” I threatened him, puffing my chest and glaring at him.

  “Hey, that’s why I waited for the redhead to leave. It’s just you. Ana knows our parents divorced, and I made her believe that Dad’s not in the picture.”

  I snorted, “You can’t be serious, Keane. Why would you come here? Isn’t it frowned upon to leave your post?”

  “No one knows we’re here. My handler thinks I’m just getting cozy with her at her beach house.”

  “She’s not at her beach house.” I waved my hands around the area. He wasn’t thinking straight. “This is Seattle, you fucking idiot.”

  “We can’t talk on her father’s properties. Everything is bugged, or if not, her bodyguards are around.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “They’re looking for her then?”

  “We made sure to stage everything perfectly,” he said desperately.

  “And you brought her to my place because you thought it’d be amusing to fuck up my life?”

  “Not everything is about the great Gage Rodin. We need money.”

  “Of course, you do,” I sighed, he was finally getting to the point. “Are you leaving the FBI?”

  “That’s not important.”

  “Stop giving me half answers,” I demanded.

  “Stop freaking out, Gage.”

  “What guarantees that her father isn’t going to jump out of a tree and shoot us?”

  He laughed. “You played too many video games, asshole.”

  “Again, I need an explanation of who she is and why you’re here?”

  “I’m going to tell her who I am, and we have to figure out what we’re going to do. Can you give us some space?”

  “You could’ve borrowed my house without having me as a witness. I think she can find me pretty easily if you piss her off.”

  “Stop,” he ordered me. “I got your back. She thinks your name is Cole and you work construction during the day and tend bar part-time.”

  He told her exactly what I used to do before I became a successful singer-songwriter. What was he thinking?

  “Do you seriously have my back?” I pointed at the house. “Because it feels like you’re feeding me to the wolves.”

  “When have I ever left you hanging?”

  I exhaled harshly. “Never, you always drag me with you when you’re in trouble.”

  “This time it’ll be different, I swear. Let me stay here for a couple of weeks,” he requested.

  “I’ll bunk with East then.”

  “Don’t let on that I’m around,” he warned me. “Actually, stay at a hotel.”

  “Why?”

  “He’ll know something’s up.”

  “True,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Maybe I should go to San Diego.”

  “Right, you have a house down there.”

  I glared at him. “You know everything about me, don’t you?”

  “Someone has to look after you, baby brother.” He grinned.

  “Whatever, call me before you leave. I want to spend some time with you.”

  He smirked. “So, he misses me.”

  “You know I do, asshole.”

  “Miss you too, fucker. I really want to catch up. The singing gig seems to be working out for you. I want to hear about that girl you’re dating too—she’s hot.”

  I tilted my head toward the house. “I think you’re in over your head. I hope you can handle it.”

  Thirty-Nine

  Gage

  That night I booked the first flight available to San Diego and left around three in the morning. Duncan, my manager, was thrilled that I’d only be a few hours from Los Angeles and he set a couple of radio interviews and talk show appearances where I could promote my new EP. He never failed to find me gigs whenever I was in California.

  “Why are you in San Diego?” Tess twisted her lips. “I thought you said you had work to do in Seattle.”

  “Duncan needed me,” I lied, and I hated it. “So, what do you think about it? We can look for something closer to the beach—and bigger.”

  “Really, you think we need a bigger house?” Tess said while we were FaceTiming.

  “If I’m going to start doing production work for other artists, I should set up my own studio,” I suggested.

  “You could do it in Seattle,” she proposed.

  “Maybe in a couple of years. But right now, I’m trying to find different ways to stay in California, close to you.”

  After the internship with the narwhals, she was going to enter her PhD program. I wanted to stay close to her because I knew how demanding it was and we would only have a few hours together, mostly at night.

  “Gage Rodin, you’re always accumulating boyfriend points.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’re sacrificing your career for me.”

  “No, I’m modifying my goals because you’re my priority.”

  She touched the screen and sighed. “See, that’s what I mean. I love you so much.”

  “Miss you so much, Turtle,” I sighed. “You should’ve taken me with you to Reykjavik.”

  That way I would’ve avoided my brother and his crazy scheme.

  “No, the dorms are tiny.” She moved the camera around so I could see. There’s a bed between the two walls, a window, and her luggage was right by the door.

  “That’s too small,” I agree. “I couldn’t fit in there.”

  “Hey, it was free,” she chuckled. “Not that they offered any other accommodations. It’s okay. I only come here around ten at night to sleep, and I have to be out the door at six in the morning.”

  I checked the time and growled. “Which means that you have to go to sleep right about now.”

  She twisted her lips and nodded, looking just as disappointed as I was. “Would you sing to me?”

  “I love you, Turtle.”

  “Love you too, Rodin.”

  I sang her a few songs until I realized that her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open. I missed her even more. We could be apart, but I preferred to spend my nights with her by my side. Not telling her about Keane just about killed me. It was only three in the afternoon for me, and I had time to kill before I had to drive to LA. Since Tess didn’t turn down my suggestion to get a bigger house, I began to search for properties in the area that were bigger, closer to the beach, and had a swimming pool.

  There wasn’t anything extraordinary, but I found a few lots that had potential. Easton could recommend a good architect. I was about to contact him when my phone rang.

  “Rodin,” I answered the unknown number.

  “Dude, we have a problem,” Keane said agitated.

  “What kind of problem?” I grunted.

  Keane didn’t have small problems; my brother always did everything big and with a bang.

  “It’s a long story” He gave me the same excuse he’d used when he’d fucked up something at my parents’ house. “Someone raided your house while we were out.”

  “What do you mean someone?” I asked breathing harshly.

  “It could be the FBI or the cartel. We don’t know.”

  “So they know I’m involved with you?”

  “No, like I said,” he explained. “I took everything out of the house that could give away who it belongs to.”

  “They can check my deed and know who I am.”

  “Let’s hope that’s not the case,” he growled. “I need a place to stay, and you need some private security just in case.”

  “Call East,” I ordered while packing up my shit.

  “He can’t know I’m here,” he growled.

  I slammed my phone against the couch and scrubbed my face. He had to be fucking kidding
me. It felt like the beginning of a nightmare. I calmed myself and called Duncan. He made a couple of reservations at the Four Seasons under my pseudonym. Once everything was set, I messaged Keane, telling him where to go and to make sure that my house was at least secure.

  * * *

  The next morning, I flew back to Seattle and found my place destroyed. Windows smashed, all the drawers opened. Our clothes thrown on the floor. A guy from HIB—the high intelligence security company that Eric, my bodyguard, recommended—waited for me.

  “Gage, my name is Anderson Hawkins,” he introduced himself. “You were vague on the phone, and we need more details. The people who came to your house are professionals. It wasn’t some fan trying to find your briefs so she could sell them online.”

  I cleared my throat. “Look, my brother is an FBI agent. We look a lot alike and maybe the people he’s involved with tried to find out if we’re related.”

  He nodded twice. “Let’s try this again. You tell me what the hell happened, and I’ll gladly protect you because whoever was here might come back.”

  I scrubbed my face with both hands and told him everything I knew.

  “Ana Leyva?” He repeated Ana’s name, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. “Your brother has Ana Leyva.”

  I nodded.

  “Fuck, I need to speak to him,” he said and grabbed his phone. “I’m making a few calls. You can’t stay here. In fact, you have to move out of this neighborhood. From now on, you’ll have to have HIB protection.”

  “For how long?”

  “Indefinitely,” he answered and walked away to make a call.

  * * *

  Hawk and my brother had a long conversation with the HIB team. I wasn’t a part of it because a lot of the information was classified. Keane wasn’t staying in Seattle for much longer. He asked for one last night before he and Ana returned to Mexico.

  “What the fuck happened?” I pinned my brother against the wall as I entered the room. “You sent the FBI’s most wanted to my house.”

  “We’re not sure if it was them,” he defended himself, as if that made everything better.

 

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