by Naomi West
Hollande breezed into the lobby with a smug air about himself. “Darling,” he said, kissing my cheek and then cupping my face in his hands. “You can always tell me when you're in a bad situation, you know,” he chided. “You don't have to make up stories and try to save yourself. Of course that man wasn't your secret lover. Don't think I believed that for a second.”
I thought back to the previous night, wondering what Hollande would think if he knew that I had actually had sex with Rip. My gut churned unpleasantly, and I shrugged off his hands, pulling back away from him.
“Hollande, I don't want to be in a relationship with you,” I told him, proud of the way my voice didn't quaver even in the slightest. “And I thought that I needed your help, but—”
What perfectly horrible timing, I suddenly realized, eyes widening in horror as Rip stalked back into the motel lobby, a look of murder on his face as he saw me standing there talking to Hollande.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.
Hollande, to his credit, stood up tall, although it was obvious that Rip could break him in half if he wanted to, especially given the garish bruise Hollande was currently sporting from yesterday's encounter. “Livy asked me to meet her here,” he said.
Rip turned his furious gaze on me. “Is that true?” he asked, and I could tell from his tone that he knew exactly what I'd been planning to do. But I still tried to deny it.
“I wanted to tell him that I couldn't be in a relationship with him,” I said lamely. “I know things got a little heated yesterday, and I wanted to apologize to him about that while you weren't around. And I wanted to tell him that I'm fine and that he can leave me alone with you and go back home. That's it.”
Rip looked almost convinced, but I could still sense a little suspicion from him, and I didn't blame him for that. I'd have been suspicious too. I ducked my head a little, feeling ashamed that I had even thought to text Hollande. It had just seemed like such a great idea for a moment, to just leave this all behind me. Of course things wouldn't work that way. I was stuck in this now, whatever happened.
“Well, I suppose I had better leave, then,” Hollande said, his voice like acid. “I wish you all the best, Olivia.” But I could tell from his tone that he really would rather ... well, probably if he had known about the plan, about the gun parts and Cat Zodiac, he'd probably be pretty happy to see me locked up in jail with the rest of them.
I swallowed hard, trying not to let that hurt me.
“Upstairs,” Rip growled at me, catching my wrist and dragging me along with him.
In the room, he whirled on me, looking even more furious, if that was possible. “What the hell were you thinking, having him come here?” he snarled, tossing his backpack off to the side.
I frowned at it, hearing the pieces rattling around inside. “You didn't deliver the package,” I said, wondering what that could mean. Had Rip somehow realized what a dangerous venture this was? But what would Cherri do to us now, since he hadn't gone along with the plan?
“There was a minor setback,” Rip snapped. “Don't try to change the subject.”
I hung my head, feeling like a chastised schoolgirl. “I know I shouldn't have messaged him,” I said. “I just got so scared this morning when you were talking about me doing prison time, and I thought that maybe if I went home and pretended I had had nothing to do with any of this ... well, I thought that maybe you'd all just let me go. I don't think what you're doing is right, but I wouldn't go to the cops, I just want to…” I trailed off, fighting back tears. But in the end, it was futile.
I sobbed, feeling ashamed and overwhelmed and confused. “I just want to go home.”
Rip did nothing for a long moment, just stared at me as I continued to sniffle. Then, something in his demeanor changed. He deflated a little, looked a little less angry. He moved slowly over to me and pulled me into his arms, cradling me there against him. He sighed heavily.
“I know this hasn't been easy on you,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. “I know I've asked a lot of you, and torn you away from everything you've ever known. But it'll all be over soon, and then you can go back home, all right? I'll take you back myself.”
“But nothing will ever be the same again,” I whimpered. “I'm going to have to quit my job and move, just so you and Cat and the rest of your lot can never find me again. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life in fear that the authorities will somehow figure out my part in all of this and come knocking on my door one day with a warrant for my arrest.”
Rip sighed. “You've clearly watched too many of those crime shows on TV,” he said, trying for a little light-hearted humor. But the words fell flat to me.
I shivered a little against him, pressing closer to his warmth. “There has to be some way we can turn this whole thing over to the authorities and be done with it,” I said.
“I couldn't do that,” Rip said grimly, shaking his head. “I'm sorry, Liv, but that's out of the question. Not only would Cat be furious with me, but I can't give up my allegiance like that. I've sworn oaths to the Gemini Riders that I can't bring myself to break.”
“So what are we going to do?” I asked, finally pulling away from him and wiping at my tear-streaked face. “What happened with the delivery today?”
Rip shrugged a little. “They're about to do a full search of the prison, so it wouldn't make sense for me to bring in the packages now. We'll wait until later in the week and try again. In the meantime, we hang tight here.”
I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “All right,” I said, seeing no other way out. “All right.” I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind racing with horrifying scenarios of us getting caught. But knowing that Rip wouldn't listen to me no matter what I said, I remained silent.
Chapter Sixteen
Rip
I jumped a little, hearing the knock on the door. I was groggy from the nap I'd been taking, but I quickly pulled myself up and went to answer it, hoping it wasn't another unpleasant visitor. When I looked through the peep hole, though, it was just housekeeping. I breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door.
“We don't need anything cleaned right now,” I told the woman quietly, mindful of Liv still sleeping on the bed.
“Okay,” the woman said, nodding and moving on to the next room. I picked up the Do Not Disturb sign where it had fallen on the ground and hung it back on the doorknob. Then, looking back indecisively at Liv for a moment, I left the room, shutting the door behind me. I went down to the lobby, pulling out my phone as I went. It was quiet and empty in the lobby; even the receptionist was somewhere in the back, out of earshot.
I dialed Damien's number.
“Is the mission complete?” he asked when he picked up the phone.
“Not quite,” I said. I glanced around again and lowered my voice. “Look, we've met with Cherri, and she has a plan for how I'm supposed to get the packages into the jail, but—”
“You're responsible for getting the packages into jail?” Damien asked incredulously. “It's bad enough that you've transported the things, but do you realize what could happen to you if you get caught smuggling weapons into a federal prison?”
“I know, I know,” I said. I scrubbed a hand over my face, wondering what I wanted to say. “Damien, I feel like I'm in this over my head,” I admitted.
Damien sighed. “Well, it's good to hear you finally realize that. My offer from before still stands—we can make you disappear.”
“I don't like that plan,” I said frankly. “I've brought the packages this far. I don't want to put someone else in danger trying to dispose of them. I think it's best that I just hand the packages over to Cherri and let her deal with it. Maybe find someone else to smuggle the packages into the prison—I'm sure they've got other connections.”
“Hmm,” Damien said, clearly thinking it over. “I do think that's the safest option. If you're nervous about this, you're not the best person to be smuggling them in anyway. It's i
n their best interest to find someone else. A nervous man makes stupid mistakes and is really obvious to those trained to look out for nervous ticks.”
“Exactly,” I said. I sighed. “Now the question is just convincing Cherri to come pick up the packages—sooner, rather than later. And convincing her that Liv isn't a liability.”
“Except that she is, and she'll remain one—even if the plan is executed successfully. She knows exactly who was involved, at every step of the way.”
“So what, you think she deserves to be killed off as well?” I asked, surprised. Damien had a reputation for being fair and merciful; that he would order Liv's death, when she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, didn't seem like him.
“Of course I don't think she deserves to be killed,” Damien said, sounding exasperated. “I'm appalled that you would think that. But I do understand where Cherri is coming from if that's what she thinks. Liv is a liability, and you need to remember that.”
“So what happens to her, then?” I asked.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Damien asked, a strange note in his voice. “You sound very reluctant to have anything bad happen to her. Protective, even.”
I scowled. “Of course I don't have feelings for her,” I snapped, even though that statement didn't exactly ring true. I shook my head. “I just feel guilty for dragging her into this mess, that's all.”
“All right,” Damien said, but he didn't sound convinced. “She'll need to disappear. I'm sure we can help her out with that. But you would need to figure out some way of ensuring her silence over the whole thing—especially if you don't plan on going into hiding. You don't want her guilt to someday overwhelm her and have her send the police after you in ten or twenty years.”
“No,” I agreed. I frowned. “I'm not sure how we would keep her from talking, though. She's...actually a good person, Damien. Money's not the thing that keeps her going.”
“Then you'll need to find out what is,” Damien said simply. “In the meantime, I'd suggest having Cherri come to the hotel and take the packages off your hands. Then get yourself out of there as soon as you can.”
I hung up with Damien and called Cherri, not sure if she would pick up since I knew she was probably still at work. But she did answer. “What?” she bit out.
“I don't think this plan is going to work,” I said, beginning to pace a little with agitation.
There was silence on the line for a moment, and I wondered if maybe she was moving to a more secure location. “I'll be there in five minutes,” she said.
When she stormed into the hotel lobby, she didn't look happy. “This had better be important,” she said. “I'm on my lunch break.” I looked around and decided that we were too exposed, so I dragged her into an empty room down the hall and shut the door behind us.
“Look,” I said, “I signed up to transport a delivery. I didn't sign up to smuggle things into a federal prison. This is insane.”
“You signed up to deliver a package,” Cherri corrected. “You knew all along that that package was destined to end up in the hands of Cat Zodiac. You must have known you were meant to deliver it into a prison!”
“Except that as far as I was told, I was meant to deliver the packages to you,” I said. “And that's what I want to do. The packages are upstairs in the room. I'll give them to you now. And you can handle having them smuggled into the jail in some other way. Get someone else to do it. Or do it yourself. I don't care, but I'm not going to be involved in this any further.”
Cherri sneered at me. “What, got cold feet? I would have expected better from you, Rip. Damien always talked so highly about you.”
“Don't bring Damien into this,” I snapped. “I don't care if you think I'm chickenshit or whatever else; there's nothing you can do to make me bring those packages in to the jail.”
“Oh really?” Cherri asked. “You don't think that Cat has ways of dealing with people she's displeased with? We have to follow her orders or else everyone loses. I don't get my sister back, and you probably lose your life. So does Olivia Harrell. You should have thought things through a little more, maybe, before you accepted this mission, but it's too late to change anything now.”
“Cat isn't stupid,” I persisted. “She must know that this is a risky plan. All we have to do is come up with some other sort of plan. It shouldn't be that difficult; she has you as an access point, and she has Romeo as well. I'm sure she has other ways of getting this package smuggled into the jail.”
“She gave these orders!” Cherri exclaimed. “She told us that this was the way it was going to be done. You have to uphold your end of the bargain—or else face the consequences.”
“Just take the god-damned packages,” I snarled. “Take the packages, talk to Cat, and figure out some other way!”
Cherri narrowed her eyes at me. “I'm not taking those packages,” she snarled. “I will talk to Cat, but I'm not taking them. I'll let you know when you can deliver them.” With that, she turned and stalked out of the room. I was tempted to go after her, to grab her, to force her to listen, but I could tell that wouldn't do any good. She was just going to continue to refuse to take the packages.
She was more scared of Cat than I was, that much was clear. So I had to make sure that Cat herself changed the plans. And that meant that I had to go see Cat in prison.
I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face, debating calling Damien back. But I didn't want him to be even more entangled in this than he already was. Anyway, it was about time I went upstairs to check on Liv and let her know the latest.
Chapter Seventeen
Rip
Walking into the prison gave me the chills, even though I was on the visitation side of the glass, and even though I wasn't carrying the packages with me that day. Romeo raised an eyebrow at me when he saw me there. I recognized him from photos with Cat, and he clearly recognized me as well, probably from something in his own mission briefing.
I didn't stop to talk to him; I did my best not to let on that I even recognized him. I didn't bring any of the packages for a reason, but I didn't need to stand there discussing that fact with him where anyone could overhear us.
Instead, I sat on one of the chairs and waited for Cat to be brought out.
Even in prison, Cat looked good. She had always been an attractive woman, with her aristocratic features and long, dark hair. She didn't seem surprised to see me, and I wondered if that meant Cherri had already spoken to her about my refusal to uphold my end of the bargain.
I glanced around as I picked up the receiver. The visitation room was mostly empty, meaning there weren't many people who might overhear us. Except that that also meant it was pretty quiet in there and anything I said, I could expect to be overheard by the guards. I would need to be careful about what I said and make it seem like this was just a routine visit from one friend to another.
“How are you doing?” I asked, in the spirit of keeping things friendly.
Cat rolled her eyes. “How do you think I'm doing, here in this federal prison?” she asked. But her eyes glinted a little with amusement, and I could tell she appreciated the attempt at small-talk. “I've been waiting for someone to come visit me,” she said. “Other people have family members who bring them sweets and razors and all sorts of other things that we have a hard time getting here. But I don't have any family members to bring me those things.”
I paused, wondering how to spin off from that into what I wanted to talk about. I was thankful that she had at least given me that much of an opening. “I'm not sure I would be able to deliver packages for you,” I said slowly. “It seems like that would be a little risky.”
Her brows drew together, but she didn't seem surprised to hear that. “As long as you didn't do anything suspicious, it shouldn't be a problem,” she said.
Fortunately, the room was beginning to fill up with other people visiting their loved ones, and the chance that we would be overheard was becoming less and less likely. I l
eaned in close, talking lowly into the receiver. “Look, Cat, I just don't think this is such a good idea,” I told her. “There has to be a better way.”
Cat shrugged a little, but she didn't seem too concerned by what I was saying. “I think this is the best way,” she said. “Unless you don't think that you can be a part of this.”
“I don't,” I admitted. “The thing is, I thought I was just delivering the packages to...” I trailed off, having enough sense, at least, not to say Cherri's name. “I just didn't think it was going to go this far,” I finished.
Cat pursed her lips, looking through the glass at me. But she didn't seem upset. “All right,” she finally said. “Maybe we need to figure out a different way. I'll talk with my connections and see what we can come up with.” She narrowed her eyes, though. “But don't think that I'm going to forget about this, Rip Stevens.”