Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  My phone rang. It was Pax. Shit. I couldn’t wait to hear him say he told me so. One deep breath and a slow five count later, I answered.

  “How are things there? Is she ready to go home?”

  How to answer that? “Pax. She’s not here. She ran.”

  The silence was deafening. “What do you mean, she ran?”

  “Didn’t anybody there see her leaving? I mean, there are cameras outside the house. Nobody noticed her walking out in the middle of the night?”

  “Shit.” I heard Pax running downstairs to the surveillance center. “Hey! Have you three been napping down here? Show me the safe house feed.” I waited with my eyes closed while he reviewed the footage—and to my surprise, he laughed. “Son of a bitch.”

  “What?”

  “She must’ve done something to screw with the cameras. It’s the same footage looped again and again. The same car driving down the block over and over.” He laughed again. “Damn. She’s good, Dylan. I’ve gotta give her credit for that.”

  So I knew some of what she had been doing on her laptop during her downtime. I would have to ask her how she did it when I caught up to her. I couldn’t let her go. She would learn she couldn’t get rid of me that easily.

  “Damn it. I can’t believe she sneaked out when I was asleep.”

  “Listen. Come in, sit down, clear your head for a while. We’ll talk it over when you get here, okay? It’s not the end of the world. She’s free to do what she wants now.”

  Free to do what she wanted. Yes, that was true. She didn’t owe me a damn thing, just like I didn’t owe a thing to her. I had to grow up and see the situation for what it was. “All right. See you soon.”

  ***

  “Damn. I had no idea she was doing that.” I must’ve watched that same looped video feed a hundred times before turning away, shaking my head. “I didn’t even know she could from her laptop.”

  “I could tell that day you brought her in that she knew her shit.” Marcus shot Jenna a dirty look, and she made a big show of turning back to her work. Maybe if she hadn’t acted like such a bitch, we would’ve all picked up on Vienna’s interest in our system. No, that wasn’t fair. I still had a job to do, and Jenna was somebody I had known for years. I should’ve kept my focus on the job, not on my personal feelings.

  “Could be worse,” Danny said. “I mean, at least we were pretty much finished with her.”

  “Yeah. Pretty much.” I went upstairs to see Pax. Pretty much finished with her. Yeah, we weren’t under the court order anymore, not since she had given Ricardo the safe deposit box information. If there had been anything wrong with that, he would’ve told us so. She didn’t screw anybody over except me.

  Pax was in his office and waved me in when he saw me in the doorway. By the time I sat down, he had already pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

  “Um, do you keep that in there all the time?” I asked with a confused frown.

  “Yeah. For situations like this.” He poured me a drink and passed it across the desk. I might have been confused and surprised but I didn’t turn it down. It was just what I needed, even before noon.

  “Where do you think she went?” he asked.

  “Anywhere in the world. I mean, literally. I don’t know how much money she had or even what her real name was. She probably used a fake one to get out of the country.”

  “You don’t know she left the country.”

  “Why wouldn’t she? Not like it matters. I’ll never find her now.” I took a sip of the whiskey and was glad to feel little fingers of warmth spreading through my chest. I was tired of feeling cold inside when I thought about how easy I made it for her to fool me into thinking she cared.

  “Are you sure you couldn’t find her if you tried?” He glanced at me over the rim of his glass.

  “Why would I try?”

  “Don’t bullshit me. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He smiled a little. “She’s really a piece of work, that girl.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I couldn’t help but smile a little, too.

  “It’s okay if you wanna find her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Why should I, though? Isn’t that pretty lame? I mean, she left in the middle of the night, maybe a few hours after she could’ve died. I have my pride, you know.”

  He nodded slowly. “I had my pride, too. And you know what I don’t have anymore? A wife. And you know what else?”

  “What?”

  “I thought I learned my lesson with my ex. But then, last night…when I heard about the shooting…” He trailed off, and I let him go without any further explanation. He was thinking about Christa. We all knew there was something between them, even if they hadn’t done anything about it.

  “So what will change now, after that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, exactly. But it’s enough to make a guy think.”

  “I guess so.”

  “My point is, don’t let your pride get in the way. Don’t be an idiot. I’d rather have a little less pride and the woman I love than be proud and alone. Or maybe I’m just old enough to know better.”

  I snorted at that. “You’re maybe three years older than me, man.”

  “It feels like a lot more than that. Here.” He passed me a business card. “A private investigator. Just in case you ever decide to swallow your pride.”

  I turned it over and over in my hand. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  “Well, in the meantime, let’s talk about your next case.”

  I swallowed back the rest of my drink. “Yes. I’m ready to get started on another one.” Anything to throw myself into and forget about her for a little while.

  Chapter Twenty-Two – Vienna

  It was a hot day, but that was par for the course in Rio. I had gotten used to it after a week or so, and the month since then had been nothing short of heavenly. My days had fallen into an easy sort of rhythm. I’d wake up early and go for a long walk, then take a swim in one of the resort’s three pools. I would go back to my room and shower, then have a light breakfast delivered.

  I’d spend the afternoon at the beach, oiled up and relaxed, and either read or stare out at the ocean. Nothing brought me peace the way the ocean did. I’d started taking surfing lessons, too, and the instructor told me I was one of his fastest learners. I had the feeling he was only trying to get into my pants, but the compliment was encouraging.

  After that, I’d go back to my room for a nap, then eat dinner either in my room or at a nearby restaurant. I’d watch the sunset and listen to the music coming from little clubs and cafes up and down the coast, floating on the warm air.

  And I would feel so alone, it would hurt.

  But it was for the best, of course. I had no right to feel bad for being alone when I was in such a beautiful place, living just the way I wanted to live. Most people would kill for the chance to be in my shoes, living at a resort, spending their days swimming and sunbathing and reading and napping. It got no better than that.

  Maybe I could’ve convinced myself of that before I met him. Before Dylan, I had never felt connected to anybody. I had never known the feeling of resting in a man’s arms and feeling completely taken care of. I had no reason to hide myself from him, and that vulnerability had been terrifying—but nice, too. I missed it. I missed him.

  He was on my mind one day as I spread a towel on the sand and settled in for the afternoon. I had never been so tan, even with all the sunscreen I slathered over myself. Some of the girls on the beach walked around topless, but I kept my white bikini top tied tight. Then I leaned back in my lounge chair and opened my latest book.

  I managed to read for maybe five minutes before a shadow fell over me. I froze, blood pounding in my ears. I didn’t even need to look up to know it was him. I could’ve picked out his cologne in a crowded room.

  He came for me. My heart rejoiced even as I trembled inside. He came, but why? Because he wanted me? Or was it because he wanted to hurt me for hurt
ing him?

  “Aren’t you going to say hello?” His voice was cold, distant. So he wasn’t happy to see me.

  “Hello.” I still didn’t look at him. I stared out at the ocean, instead.

  “You’ve been here all this time?” he asked.

  I nodded. “All this time.”

  “Aren’t you going to look at me?”

  I sighed, then slowly tilted my head back. He looked incredible, as always, wearing a pair of shorts and a button-down shirt. A pair of aviators hid his eyes, so I couldn’t quite tell what he was feeling.

  “What are you doing here? Vacation?” I gave him a brief smile.

  “Call it a retrieval mission.”

  My blood ran cold. “I hope you don’t think you’re retrieving me, because you have another thing coming. I’m sorry to ruin your plans.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have a say in this.”

  “Who sent you? The police? The FBI?”

  To my surprise, he laughed. “You think that’s why I came all the way down here? Why I hired a private eye to find you? Because the cops want you back? Nobody wants you back. Nobody but me.”

  My heart nearly exploded, but I kept a calm front. “I guess I don’t have a say in this.” When he didn’t reply, I got up from my chair and threw my book into my tote bag.

  “Don’t bother trying to run away from me,” he warned. I turned my back to him and walked back in the direction of the resort.

  “I’m not running away. I’m going back to my room,” I called back to him over my shoulder. I climbed the wooden stairs leading up from the sand and made it to a secluded area thick with trees before he caught up to me. His hand closed over my arm and stopped me in my tracks.

  “Why did you leave?” His eyes were hard, intense as he glared down at me. “Why did you disappear like that? Why can’t you ever tell me what you’re really thinking?”

  There were so many things I wanted to say. I had my reasons, didn’t I? And I had recited them like a litany from the moment I left him. He was too good for me, I would never be good like him, we had no future if I was always going to be the ex-con. People would find out who I was, they always did, and when they did he would have a black mark against his name. I’d told myself I was doing it for him, all for him, making a sacrifice for his sake. Only when he was so close to me, looking at me the way he did just then, none of it made any sense. I saw how laughable it all was.

  “I thought it was for the best,” I whispered.

  “Oh, come on.” He let go of me, almost pushing me away in disgust. “Try harder at an excuse, because that one’s pathetic.”

  “I mean it,” I insisted in a stronger voice. “I thought it was best for you if I left.”

  “Spare me,” he spat. “I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

  “Could you handle being with somebody like me? I mean really being with me? Not just fooling around, the way we were, in a bubble. Life isn’t a safe house. It’s full of friends and acquaintances and coworkers.” I emphasized that last word, remembering the way they had looked at me that day at headquarters. Like I was a bug they didn’t know what to do with. Should they study me or should they squash me.

  “Like I said, I’m a big boy. I know what I want. When I make a decision about what I want, I don’t let the opinions of other people who don’t matter one damn bit get in my way.”

  “That’s easy to say now,” I reminded him.

  “Why don’t you stop kidding yourself and tell me what really bothered you?” he asked. “I mean, really. It’s not the people I work with, and it’s not the people we might meet one day. It’s you.”

  “Me?” I pointed to myself. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. You’ve never been with somebody, not for real. You told me so yourself. You couldn’t get too close to anybody because they would eventually want to know more about you—what you did, that sort of thing. And you couldn’t handle it because it was too big a risk. Right?”

  “Yeah, it was.” I crossed my arms. “So?”

  “You have no idea how to be yourself with somebody. It scares the shit out of you that I might want more from you one day. Isn’t that it? You don’t know if you can handle that.”

  “You don’t know what I think I can handle. Stop trying to make me into the person you think I am.”

  He came to me, and when his hands cupped my face I didn’t try to move away. Fact was, his touch was what I had craved most ever since I left. His breath was warm on my skin as he tilted my head up so our eyes met. “I know you better than you think I do. I know how you think. I know what you’re feeling. And I know that’s why you left. What we had was real. You can’t convince me it wasn’t.”

  I was always a good liar. I had lied my way out of dozens of tight spots—when somebody asked one question too many, when one of my connections wanted more than I was willing to give and I had to make an excuse for why it wasn’t a good idea for us to be together. Whenever it came time to tell somebody what I did for a living.

  Why couldn’t I lie to him, then? It was second nature to me. But no matter how much I wanted to tell him we were nothing, that I could get along without him, it was pointless. I was only lying to myself in the end.

  “It was real. It’s still real.” There were tears in my eyes when he leaned down to kiss me, and the tightening of his arms around me was like a deep drink of water after a long thirst. I needed him more than life itself. It was time to stop all the lying and pretending and running. I couldn’t run from him any more than I could run from myself.

  ***

  “So you forgive me?” I lifted my head from his shoulder. It was a perfect moment—the windows open, a warm breeze blowing the curtains back, the two of us wrapped around each other in my bed. I had missed his body, the way we fit so perfectly together.

  “I guess so.” He shrugged with a smirk.

  I smacked his shoulder. “Forgive me, damn it.”

  His chest rumbled as he chuckled. “Okay. I guess you’re forgiven, as long as you promise to never do something like that again. Ever. For any reason.”

  “I promise.”

  “Because I can’t run the risk of you running off one day. I don’t think I could take that again.”

  “I swear.” I looked him in the eye without a smile, with no humor at all. I had never been more serious about anything in my life. “I will never run away like that again. I don’t have any reason to.”

  “Thank God.” His arms tightened around me. “Because you’re all I want. Well, and I want you to be happy, too.”

  “That sounds good to me. I just wish I knew what that meant—like, being with you is perfect, but what else am I supposed to do with my life?”

  “What were you gonna do before I showed up?” He sat up a little, looking serious. I sat up and wrapped the sheets around me.

  “I have no idea. Just travel around, I guess. Live off my money. I have enough to keep me going for as long as I want.”

  “That would get boring and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I know it would. It’s a nice fantasy, though.” I shrugged.

  “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and it’s not like you didn’t go to school.”

  “Yeah, where I majored in Literature. Lots of career opportunities there,” I chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d need a college education to work, if you get what I mean.”

  “I do,” he smirked. “So, okay, you don’t wanna work in literature—I don’t even know how you would…”

  “A teacher,” I suggested. “Or I could go to grad school. Maybe even get my doctorate.”

  “I can see that happening,” he said with a smile. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Would it be too ironic if I went to law school?”

  “Way too ironic,” he chuckled. Then, something lit up behind his eyes. “Wait a minute. Law. That might be it.”

  “What might be it?” I asked, feeling suspicious.

  “What if you he
lped the cops or the DA or whoever track down people who did the same sort of thing you did?”

  “That’s such a loaded question,” I murmured. “I mean, yeah, that would be great for me—but I would feel like a traitor.”

  “You don’t owe anything to anybody but yourself,” he reminded me. “You deserve to have a life you can be proud of. And if you do this, you’ll be proud of yourself. I know you will. You’ll be using the skills you picked up in a positive way.”

  “Positive for the cops,” I smirked.

  “Positive for anybody who ever felt like a victim because of somebody who does what you used to do.” I could tell he was trying to be delicate, but his point was clear anyway. “I know you told yourself it was all about the money, and they had insurance and whatever. But that’s just what your parents believed, and it’s what they taught you so you could rationalize what you were doing. You get that, right?”

  “Yeah, I get that. You were right—it’s why I never robbed anybody I knew.”

  “Exactly. Those people felt like victims, and you know it. You could sort of, I don’t know, balance the scales now.”

  “How karmic,” I smirked. But he wasn’t falling for it. He meant what he said, and he wouldn’t back down. I nodded with a sigh. “Do you think anybody would hire me, knowing about what I used to do?”

  “Are you serious? Ricardo loves you.”

  I giggled. “Yeah, I got that impression.”

  “He sees how smart you are, too, and that's what really matters.” His hand slid across the sheets and enclosed one of mine. “I know you could do it.”

  “I was already considering backing out of the business before that last job.” I snuggled up closer to him to steal some of his body heat. I felt very cold all of a sudden.

  “Why?”

  I snorted. “Do you really need to ask why?”

  His arms slid around me. “Why for you? I know why I would want out, but why did you?”

  How could I explain it in a way he would understand? I thought back to that last night, how lonely I had felt when it was clear that I was screwed no matter which way I went. I had no one to go to. Nobody knew what I did, none of my friends. There was an entire part of my life, and a rather large part at that, which I couldn’t share with anyone.