True to You

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True to You Page 25

by Jennifer Ryan


  And Flash. Or King. Whatever his name, it didn’t matter. She tried so hard not to think about him it ached inside every cell of her being.

  She set her coffee mug on the counter, gave one long look out the kitchen window at the pile of wood Flash—no, King—cut and stacked for her to get in her good graces, and walked away from another bad memory.

  She raked her fingers through her still-wet hair. Early this morning, she’d stood in the hot shower and let the tears fall, then pulled on a comfortable blue-and-white flannel plaid, ripped, worn jeans, and brown hiking boots.

  A sharp knock sounded on the front door. She startled at the sound. She expected the ATF to come calling today. The hike through the woods would be anything but relaxing.

  Her heart leaped, hoping it was King. Her head scolded her for being stupid. Her fatigued body told her to go lie down and never open her eyes again.

  Instead, she went to let in the next round of federal agents who wanted to crawl all over her property and up her ass for information.

  The living room had always been a comfortable place for her to relax. Now, she stared at the chair King sat in the night he told her about Erin, his girlfriend who died in the car crash, and wondered if he’d lied about that, too. She didn’t think so, but didn’t want to analyze the things he said, why, or what he really wanted.

  The ache in her chest pulsed again and added to the hurt she carried that seemed far too heavy to bear.

  She couldn’t stand to be here anymore. The house felt tainted with lies and deceptions. Her father’s. Her uncle’s. King’s. The property felt like quicksand, keeping her stuck and dragging her down. Time to cut her losses and run. Where? She didn’t know, didn’t care, but without her coffee shop and family, she had no reason to stay.

  With nothing and no one holding her here, she could do anything. Go anywhere. And yet, she didn’t feel like going or doing anything. She just wanted out. Away. Now.

  She would talk to Tim later today. She and Ray had a long talk last night. Without his routine and job here, he’d decided to drive down to Arizona. His older brother’s health was failing and he needed help. His brother was already working on finding him a job. Before she left today, she’d give him a nice severance—the fat stack of cash her father paid her in Manny’s name—to get him through the transition. Ray didn’t like change, but he’d land on his feet once he got settled at his brother’s place.

  Yeah, she was leaving a mess behind with the insurance on her restaurant, outstanding bills, and whatever else came up with her father’s and uncle’s deaths. Tired of handling everything for everyone, she just needed time and space and peace to clear her head and decide what she wanted.

  She finally realized she couldn’t take care of everyone else anymore, not when she neglected herself.

  She opened the front door to six ATF agents crammed on her porch. One held up a folded piece of paper. “Search warrant for your house, barn, and property, including all outbuildings.”

  She faced off with the wall of men. “I’ll lead you to my uncle’s workshop and the C-4. Just give me a minute to grab a coat.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ll start here.”

  “Here? The DEA already searched the house and barn. There’s nothing here.”

  “It’s our turn.” With that, the ATF filed past her into her home, acting like she was under suspicion.

  She should be used to it by now. Hell, the DEA sent someone to find out if she was working with her father and could catch him that way. But it still hurt and pissed her off to be thought in league with them when she’d tried to live her life as a good and decent human being—one who followed the law, not broke it.

  While the ATF ransacked her house for a second time, she loaded her bags—once checked and deemed safe—into her truck for her trip to nowhere-in-particular-so-long-as-it-was-away-from-here. She didn’t have much in the way of clothes or personal items. In fact, it made her sad that she could pack up her life in a matter of hours. Mostly because she wasn’t sentimental about the items in the house. After the way she’d been raised and the life she’d led, she didn’t have much to be sentimental about. She didn’t want to look back and remember. She wanted out, away, to be gone. Now.

  She wanted a life and memories worth remembering.

  Special Agent Bennett and Special Agent Cooke—or Trigger, as he had asked her to call him—pulled in alongside her truck. The driveway was crowded with vehicles now that all the players had arrived to dismantle her life. Or so it felt.

  She set her backpack on the seat beside her purse and checked it one last time to be sure she had the envelope filled with cash for Ray and another for Tim. They’d promised to wait at the barn for her until all of this was over and they could leave.

  “Miss Potter, how are you today?” Agent Bennett asked.

  “It’s just Cara. Think you can convince those shitheads tearing up my house to get a move on so we can go where there is actual evidence? I don’t have all day for them to waste looking at me when it’s already clear who did what.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Agent Bennett headed for the house. He didn’t deserve her pissy mood. He and the other DEA guys had been kind enough to her. Probably because of Flash. King. Whatever he wanted to be called.

  “You look like shit,” Trigger pointed out, leaning back against her truck and staring up at the house where an ATF guy came out with a paper bag and set it on the porch. Who knew what they’d found and why they thought it important. She didn’t have anything worthy of their scrutiny, but they had to come away with something to show for their time.

  “Thanks. I feel like it.”

  “Have you slept?”

  She didn’t look at him. “Sure. We’ll call it that.”

  “You should talk to someone. It’s not good to keep all that anger and grief bottled up inside.”

  “Who should I talk to? My mom? She’s dead. My dad? He’s dead. My uncle? He tried to kill me, and oh yeah, he’s dead, too. I’ve kind of run out of people to talk to.”

  “He’s out of the hospital.”

  She didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. She scolded her heart for wanting to know how he was, if he was truly okay, and where he was now. Did he even care what happened to her after everything went down? He wasn’t here, so that was a big, fat no.

  “Doctors stitched up his arm and repaired the damage to his thigh. He’s walking with a cane, but I imagine he’ll dump that in a few days.”

  She still didn’t say anything.

  “Working undercover is probably one of the hardest jobs in law enforcement. You meet a lot of good people and find that the innocent bystanders are the ones hurt more than the bad guys you take down.”

  She spun toward Trigger. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it. Job well done. Four dead, twenty-six arrests, and a ton of drugs off the streets in the last two days. You guys should be proud.”

  “It’s the job, Cara. Something we believe in. You believe in it, or you wouldn’t have called in all those tips on your father and his crew.”

  She couldn’t deny it. She understood why King came here, what he wanted to do, but she didn’t have to like the way he did it. “As soon as I lead the ATF to the C-4, it will be done.”

  “Then what?”

  She glared at him. “Is the DEA keeping tabs on me?”

  “No. You’re completely in the clear.”

  “Well, thanks for that.” The sarcasm didn’t hide her annoyance that, at one time, they thought her a part of her father’s and uncle’s dark world. “So glad I’m not a suspect anymore.”

  “He never believed you were involved. He thought you wanted a way out and would help us.”

  Then why not just come to her and ask?

  Because they had to be sure she was on their side and not her father’s. And once King knew that, he found another way to get her father and leave her out of it. Tandy led them to her father. And Cara’s relationship to King exposed her uncle.


  Her head got all that, but her heart still felt betrayed by the lies . . . and his absence.

  “He wants what your father wanted, for you to be safe and happy.”

  Agent Bennett and the six ATF guys walked out of her house and toward them, ready to go find the real evidence stashed in her uncle’s hidden lair.

  “Yeah, how could I not feel safe and happy with all this going on?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  King took his time getting to Cara’s place after Trigger dropped him at his truck where he left it parked outside the auto place where he and Cara last saw each other. The DEA and ATF had worked jointly to secure the scene and dismantle the six bombs spread throughout the building. They’d discovered enough explosives to take it and half the block out.

  If he hadn’t taken the shot that killed her uncle, they’d be dead right now. Otis had no intention of letting them live, no matter how much Cara pleaded with him.

  Federal vehicles and Trigger’s truck crowded the lane leading into Cara’s driveway and property. He parked behind them all and out of the way behind the barn. Once he picked up his stuff, he and Trigger would make the long drive south and home.

  He wanted Cara with him, but had no idea if she’d even speak to him.

  He hoped Trigger had a chance to talk to her today and gauge how open and receptive she was to at least giving him a chance to say his piece.

  Sore and stiff, he slid out of his truck and grabbed the cane sitting atop his rifle case in the cargo space behind the seat. Trigger brought the gun hoping they’d go back to his place and do another round of target practice. Trigger wanted to win the title back after King won the last round. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to shoot again. Probably why Trigger wanted to force the issue.

  Before he packed up his stuff, he wanted to leave Cara the letter he’d written her. If she wouldn’t talk to him, he hoped she’d at least take the time to read what he had to say. And maybe use the key he’d left inside the envelope.

  His leg ached with every step. It didn’t help that the cane slipped on a rock and nearly sent him falling to his knees. He glanced down at the stone, ready to curse, but stopped short and stared at the heart-shaped rock and smiled. He’d never seen anything like it. Probably because he didn’t spend much time looking for stones. But sometimes the perfect gift comes into your life unexpectedly.

  Like Cara coming into his life.

  He plucked the stone from the dirt and rubbed it clean on his T-shirt. He held it and the letter in his free hand and managed to get to Cara’s truck without stumbling. The bags stacked on the front seat and in the wheel well didn’t bode well for her sticking around after all this business concluded today.

  He opened the truck door and closed his eyes as her scent enveloped him. Sweet and spicy. Cinnamon, cherry tarts, and cake icing. He set the letter on the seat beneath the heart-shaped stone.

  “Please, Cara, give us a chance.” He hoped she answered his prayer.

  The packed bags made him wonder where she was going and if she’d ever come back. If he got a chance to speak to her today, he’d do everything in his power to talk her out of leaving.

  With a heavy heart, King headed inside to say goodbye to his old roommate, Ray, and gather his things before Cara came back.

  Tim sat at the kitchen counter tapping his fingers on the granite, his legs swinging, eyes darting to King the second he stepped into the room.

  King grabbed the thick envelope from under his arm and dropped it in front of Tim. “A friend pulled some strings. You’re going to college. All the information is in here.”

  Tim stared at the class schedule, college catalogue, and other papers he slid out of the envelope. “What? I can’t afford to go.”

  “You’ve got a full scholarship to the Montana State University Billings in their Criminal Justice program. Four years, plus housing, all paid for by a generous benefactor. I’ll be keeping tabs on you, too, so don’t let me down.”

  Tim gaped at him, then found his voice. Barely. “Really? Does Cara know?”

  King shook his head.

  “Ray caught her just before she left with those ATF guys. He’s already gone, headed to his brother’s place in Arizona.”

  So, she didn’t expect to rebuild and reopen the coffee shop. At least, not right away. She really intended to leave. His gut soured. He needed to talk to her. Now.

  “I’m waiting for her to come back so I can say goodbye before she leaves.”

  “Do you know where she’s going and for how long?”

  “No idea. She hates it here now.” Tim’s gaze fell away. Clearly part of the blame for that sat squarely on King’s shoulders.

  King blamed himself, too.

  “Even if she leaves this place, she’s not leaving you. She cares about you.” King hoped, somewhere deep down, she still cared about him.

  Cara steadfastly moved forward even as the agents behind her dismantled her uncle’s rigged alarms one after another. To her dismay, they even found a booby trap close to his hidden workroom-of-doom. The ATF guy who nabbed her arm to halt her a split second before she tripped the wire and sent a wicked-sharp blade swinging down and into her gut, cussed when she stepped over it and continued on. She didn’t let the fear or anything else show.

  She wanted this to be over. Now. She’d have left already if they could find this place on their own, but without her leading them, they’d have spent hours, possibly days, trying to find the hidden room.

  So she trudged on until she found her way to the fallen tree and berm. Trigger stayed right by her side as she climbed down the embankment and faced the door that opened her mind to all the terrible things the men in her family were capable of.

  So many lies. So much deceit. So many betrayals that ended in death and destruction.

  She opened the door.

  Trigger swore and flinched beside her when he saw the shotgun pointed right at their heads. “Damn, it’s a wonder he didn’t kill you.”

  “He tried.” Her casual tone earned an eyebrow raise and frown from the too-serious DEA agent.

  “How’d you know it was there the first time you came here?”

  “I’ve lived with suspicions my whole life. I find something odd, I immediately think the worst. My uncle answers the door with a loaded gun. When I found this, a place he took great pains to conceal, I knew there had to be a reason and some kind of protection set up. I’m cautious. He’s paranoid. Was paranoid,” she corrected herself. She swept her hand out to encompass the room. “There’s your C-4 and books filled with my uncle’s ramblings. All the evidence you need.” She spun on her heel and walked right through the ATF guys.

  “Cara, where are you going?” Trigger called.

  “You got what you wanted. I’m done.”

  No one stopped her, so she kept going. The quiet walk back to her truck didn’t give her any peace. She didn’t enjoy the pretty scenery, or feel at home the way she used to out here. When she finally made it to the outskirts of her yard and saw her house, the barn, and the vehicles clogging her driveway, all she wanted to do was run.

  Tim walked out of the barn ahead of King. She wasn’t ready to see King, but her heart eased at the sight of him walking with the cane, bruised, scraped up, and pale, but alive and relatively okay.

  They stood near the driveway waiting for her to close the distance. King’s gaze never left her. He watched her every move with a hunger in his eyes that matched the deep regret clouding them.

  Right now, all she had the strength to do was say her goodbye to Tim. She didn’t have it in her to confront King and everything that happened. With her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, she didn’t want to sort out what was truth and lie, or even care at the moment to figure out what it all meant.

  Tim rushed forward and wrapped her in a hug, then let her go and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Are they still out there at your uncle’s place?”

  “Yes. They’ll be leaving in a few hou
rs. Mind locking up this place for me?”

  “You’re leaving now?”

  She pulled the envelope that matched the one she gave to Ray earlier out of her back pocket. “This is for you.”

  Tim took it, opened it to see the bills inside, then tried to hand it back. “It’s okay, Cara. King got me a scholarship. I’m going to college. It’s a full ride. Tuition and housing.”

  For the first time, she glanced over Tim’s shoulder and met King’s steady gaze. She appreciated that he gave her space to say goodbye to Tim.

  It touched her deeply that he’d helped Tim move closer to his dream. He was a good guy. And knowing that, seeing it firsthand again in this way, that he hadn’t turned his back on Tim, only made her heart ache worse.

  “Use the money to get by until the semester starts. I’m really happy for you. I know you’ll take this opportunity and make a great life for yourself. You deserve it.” She hugged Tim again and held on for a few extra beats because she didn’t know how long it would be before she saw him again. And she would, if for no other reason than to be sure he stayed true to his promise to his mother to get his degree. She knew he would. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. Be good.” With that, she let him go. He needed to stand on his own now.

  She had to get out of here before the tears clogging her throat burst free and she lost it.

  She turned toward her truck but spun back around when King called to her.

  “Cara, wait. Please. Can we talk? I can’t lose you. I love you so damn much. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  The dam on her emotions broke with those three words she’d have given everything to hear a few days ago, but now seemed too much to bear with everything else weighing on her battered and once-again-broken heart.

  “Everyone in my life says they love me with one breath and apologizes for their deceit with the next.” Tears she couldn’t stop filled her eyes and spilled down her pale cheeks. “I can’t do this anymore.” She glanced at the house that never was the home she’d desperately wanted, out to the land where her uncle spiraled into insanity and plotted death and destruction, and back to King, the man she loved but didn’t really know. Her eyes focused on the gun and badge at his hip that confirmed she didn’t really know what part of their relationship was real or just a job. She locked eyes with him one last time, then, cloaked in misery, turned her back on him, this place, and her nightmare past.

 

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