by Brenda Novak
“That goes deeper than a name.”
“Maybe.”
“What I need to know is why,” she said. “Why all the different identities?”
This was the tough part, the part he preferred to avoid. “I did something when I was a teenager, Eve, something I will always regret.” He still couldn’t bring himself to go into any detail about Logan’s accident. “It cost my family a great deal, drove a wedge between us and filled me with self-loathing. I just...couldn’t cope with it, with the fact that I was responsible for something so tragic. There are still moments when it eats me up inside.” His voice dropped in anguish. “I would give anything to turn back the clock, but...”
“That’s impossible,” she said softly.
“Yes.” He’d hoped his answer had seemed contemplative. Resigned. That was what he was striving for. But she somehow understood who he really was, and that made it harder to keep the truth locked in the “do not open” compartment in his brain.
Her eyes searched his face. “You’re not going to tell me what that tragic event was?”
He summoned the mask that normally hid his deeper emotions. “It doesn’t matter, not to the rest of the story.”
She must have heard the “no” in his statement because she didn’t press him on that. “So this self-loathing caused you to act out.”
He nodded.
“In what way?”
“I started getting into fights, ditching school, taking drugs. First it was pot. Then I worked my way up to harder drugs. Pretty soon I was dealing to support my habit. And not long after I turned eighteen, I got busted.”
“And then you did time.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yes.”
“Dylan guessed as much. Said you were...leery.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?” He chuckled without mirth. “Prison is a hell of a place for a kid as angry and self-destructive as I was, because it only makes you angrier and more self-destructive. I probably would’ve been killed if I hadn’t joined a gang called The Crew.” Which was what made it so ironic that they were the threat now.
“A gang?” she repeated.
He tried to comb some of the tangles out of his hair with his fingers. “I can imagine it sounds shocking to someone like you, someone who’s never encountered what I’ve encountered. But...prison is a world all its own, Eve. Inside, you either click with other guys, or you face all comers alone—and you’re not going to last very long doing that.” She didn’t need to know all his reasons for joining, not the least of which was that he hadn’t expected to reach his thirtieth birthday. If he wasn’t going to survive, the future was of no concern to him. There didn’t seem to be any reason not to join and at least take a spot at the top of the food chain for a while.
“You’re saying it was a necessary evil.”
“Felt that way at the time. But these men, these gang members, they become your brothers. What you would live and die for gets twisted, but you love them so much that you’d give your life for them. I felt like I was unworthy of my real family, and yet here was this fiercely loyal group of brothers willing to accept me, and they weren’t any better than I was. It was the first time in ages that I felt as if I belonged to something important, was someone who mattered. I wasn’t about to lose that.”
“But...”
“Then came Virgil.”
“Another inmate?”
“Yeah. After a few months, he became my cell mate.”
“He was in this gang, too?”
“Eventually.” He rested his head against the backboard as he talked. “He was in prison for murdering his abusive SOB of a stepfather.”
She blanched. “This...friend of yours, he murdered someone?”
“No. But he served fourteen years before they found the real killer. That was some sad bullshit.” He felt his muscles tense. “I still feel angry at the system when I think of what he went through—for no good reason. Like me, he was only eighteen when he went in. He’d gotten there first. He’s a few years older than me. But he was different, a good person, and we became close. Then he was exonerated.”
“So he got out before you did.”
“Not by much. I was released weeks later. There was just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
He took her hand. He knew this wasn’t what any woman would want to hear. “Once you join a gang, you’re in it for life, Eve. They don’t let you walk away.”
“You wanted to leave The Crew once you got out of prison?”
“Not me. Not at first. Like I said, those guys were the only family I had. My own family had basically disowned me. But Virgil had a new chance at life. He wanted to start over, and he knew he couldn’t do that unless he had some way to protect his sister.”
She stared down at their entwined fingers. “How did his sister get involved?”
“If the gang can’t get to you, they’ll take out the people you love—hurt you however they can.”
When she recoiled, he feared he’d gone too far. But he’d never told anyone this story, and he had to finish. He didn’t want to feel as if he was still lying to her by telling only part of the truth. It was important to find out if she could still look at him the same way once she saw what lay behind his pretty face.
Although he couldn’t imagine she would.
“It wasn’t just his sister,” he said. “It was her two kids. She was divorced and struggling to make it on her own, no longer had a husband to look out for her, protect her.”
“And every woman needs a man.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
She laughed. “Of course. These days most of us believe we can take care of ourselves. But your background puts that comment in perspective, so I guess I can’t hold it against you.”
“You think you could shoot a man?” he asked.
“Probably not,” she admitted. “But I don’t think most of the men I hang out with could, either. Anyway, what did Virgil do?”
“He cut a deal with the California Department of Corrections. Agreed to go undercover to help them bust up an even worse gang in a different prison if they’d put Laurel into Witness Protection.”
“So Laurel is Virgil’s sister,” she said, recognizing the name.
“That’s how I met her.”
“Makes sense.” She shifted on the bed. “But I’m shocked that they’d allow him to endanger himself like that.”
“A judge had just been killed by a member of this gang, so they figured it would save a lot of lives in the end. And no one was going to be more convincing than Virgil. He was tough. He had prison experience. He had gang experience, too. And he didn’t smell like a cop. They thought he was perfect for the job.”
“Was he able to do what they wanted him to—and get out alive?”
“Yes and no. There were things that went wrong. The Crew found his sister and nearly killed her and her kids. They would have, if I hadn’t been there to stop them.” He didn’t tell her that was the moment he’d had to make his own decision—between the path Virgil had taken and the one he was on and ultimately left behind. That day had changed everything.
Eve seemed wary. “How did you stop them?”
He slid open the drawer of the nightstand and her eyes widened with understanding when they landed on the gun. “I see. You shot someone.”
Was she going to ask him to leave when this was over? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. He knew how bad he must sound, especially to someone who lived in Whiskey Creek. “I had no choice, Eve. You should have seen what he was trying to do to her.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “And then?”
“After that we had no choice but to go into WitSec—all of us. Virgil had helped break up the Hell’s Fury at Pelican Bay—”
“Pelican Bay is a very notorious prison!”
“For good reason.”
“And he survived that.”
“Yes. But we barely managed to escape with our lives, henc
e the WitSec decision. Last thing we needed was for The Crew to come after us again.”
“They must have, or we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”
“Yes. They found us in D.C. We escaped a second time, just as narrowly. Then we left WitSec, thinking we might be safer on our own. That was when Laurel moved to Montana to start over without us.”
“Where did you go?”
“Farther up the east coast. I stayed to help Virgil reestablish the personal security company we’d opened in the D.C. area.”
“You weren’t with Laurel at the time?”
“Not anymore. We’d broken up. That was part of the reason she left.”
She smoothed the bedding before meeting his gaze again. “Why didn’t it work out between you? You obviously loved her very much.”
He wasn’t sure how honestly he wanted to answer that question. But he’d had enough of lies. “It was my fault,” he said. “I wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship we both wanted to have. When my mother died, I screwed up again, even though I’d promised her I wouldn’t.”
“Screwed up in what way?”
He noticed the subtle tension around her mouth and eyes. “Started using again.”
“You’re talking about drugs.”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“OxyContin. Prescription pain meds. That shit is so addictive. I fought it for a number of years.”
She hesitated for a moment. Then she said, “And now?”
“I’ve been clean for nearly four years. Can’t even remember the last time I was drunk—until Sexy Sadie’s.”
“You try to be careful about alcohol, too?”
“I watch for triggers. I don’t want to go back to that place.”
She folded her arms. “I see. So none of you were married when Laurel moved to Montana.”
“Just Virgil.” Revealing so much would probably change her feelings toward him, but Rex had to grin when he thought of Virgil’s no-nonsense wife. He’d always liked Peyton. “He married the deputy warden from Pelican Bay, met her while he was there under cover, if you can believe it.”
She gave a surprised laugh. “What?”
“It’s true. They have two kids and are happy—really happy, which does my heart good. Except that they have to watch their backs just like I have to watch mine.”
“Where do they live?”
“Not in California.”
She studied him. “That’s an interesting answer.”
He thought of Mona, but decided not to burden her with that part of the story. “It’s better if you don’t know certain things.”
“You think I’d tell?”
“The Crew would torture you if they ever got a hold of you and believed you could provide any useful information. I’m trying to protect you as much as Virgil.”
The color drained from her face. “What you’re talking about...it’s all so foreign to me. I mean...the biggest problem I’ve faced is how to meet the right man so I could start a family.”
He couldn’t help it; he glanced at her belly. “And how’s that family thing going?”
“If you’re asking if I’m pregnant, I haven’t taken the test. When I do, I want to be sure that it’s accurate.”
“You told me it’d be accurate in a week. So it should be accurate now.”
She nodded. “I bought one a few days ago. I’ll take it soon.”
The silence stretched for a minute or two. Realizing she must be freaked out, he finally broke it in an attempt to reassure her. “So now you know why I lied, why I left and why I have to leave again. I don’t want my past to catch up with me, especially here. I don’t want you hurt.”
She stood and began to pace. “They can’t still be looking for you. You’ve been out of prison for what...five years?”
“Eight.”
“That’s crazy!” She stopped to face him. “Surely they’ve forgotten about you by now.”
He chuckled bitterly. “They haven’t forgotten, Eve. I doubt they ever will.”
“Why? Why do they care so much?”
“You have to understand what’s important in their world. There’s a lot of street cred in taking Virgil and me out. We killed several of their leaders, and we walked away. They can’t let that go unpunished. The banger who puts a bullet in us will be a hero, and that gives every asshole in the club incentive to try. After what happened before, Virgil and I are like...like two giant bucks that several hunters have seen but none have been able to bag. They talk about us, daydream about us, make plans for how they’ll be the ones to claim the prize....”
She started pacing again. “Still. How do you know they’ve found you again—”
“They shot up my house and my car last night, Eve. That’s how I know.”
Her hand covered her mouth. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Where were you when it happened?”
“At a friend’s down the street.” He didn’t see any reason to let her believe he might’ve been having sex with someone else by mentioning that “friend” was the recently divorced woman who lived next door.
“So your car was at your house.”
“Yes. That, the late hour and the fact that the lights were on is what made them think I was home. They probably wouldn’t have busted in and shot up the place otherwise. You should’ve seen what they did to my bed—and everything else once they realized they were wrong and I wasn’t home.”
“Better your car and your house than you! What if your car hadn’t been there? They would’ve waited for you to come home, right?”
“Probably.”
“You don’t seem very relieved that they didn’t kill you,” she complained.
“It’s all getting old, Eve. I’m tired of it, don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting this battle.”
She pivoted at the foot of the bed. “You have no choice!”
“I do have a choice. It’s just not a choice most people would expect me to make.”
She rubbed her arms as if he’d given her goose bumps. “That sounds suicidal.”
“I’m not suicidal. I want to live as much as anyone. But the longer I run, the longer they’re going to chase me.” He shrugged. “Problem is...I’ve tried standing and fighting. That doesn’t get me anywhere, either. The more of them I kill, the more they’ll send.”
“Kill...” she repeated.
He said nothing.
“Did you call the police?”
“Someone did. But I didn’t stick around to talk to them. There’s nothing they can do for me, Eve. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“They have to be able to help!” she insisted. “I mean...there has to be someone you can turn to.”
“Not unless I go back into WitSec and, at this point, I doubt the government would even be willing to spend the money. We walked away from the program last time. I’m not interested in returning, anyway.”
“So what happens next?”
“I’ll have to disappear, reestablish myself somewhere else. And that starts with getting a new computer this afternoon and some clothes. I lost everything.” Fortunately, he had the money to pay for those items. He’d pulled all his money out of the bank when he returned to San Francisco, and The Crew hadn’t found it. They hadn’t been looking for money; they’d only been looking to do as much damage as possible. So once they took off, he’d gone in and retrieved it. He probably could’ve salvaged some of his clothes and other belongings while he was there, but he’d heard the sirens and knew he had to get out as soon as possible. He couldn’t afford to be delayed answering questions when answering those questions wouldn’t help, anyway.
“What about your business?”
This was another difficult subject. All About Security was the one thing he had. It had given him focus, a measure of success—success he’d established independent of Virgil—a sense of importance. And that had pulled him through. He’d have to say goodbye to all his bodyg
uards and Marilyn, never talk to them again. He’d been careful not to get too close to anyone, in case it came down to this, but it was impossible not to connect on some level. “I need to sell it, cut ties.”
Her sympathetic expression suggested she understood what starting over would cost him. “Cutting those kinds of ties won’t happen overnight.”
“I can only hope I’ll be able to make the arrangements in a short amount of time, which means I’ll have to sell cheap.”
She rubbed her forehead as she walked back toward him. “How long can you stay here?”
“They won’t be able to follow me right away,” he said. “There’s nothing at my home or office that leads to Whiskey Creek. My administrative assistant knows I was here before, but I was in other towns, too. And I left a message for her this morning saying I was going to Arizona. I don’t think she’ll expect me to return to Gold Country, not without notifying her.” Why would she? As far as she knew, this place had been nothing more than a stopover, a dot on the map, where he’d found shelter for a few days. She didn’t know that he’d gotten involved with Eve, didn’t know how much he liked the town, because it hadn’t meant all that much to him when she’d come out to have him sign those checks.
He was glad of that now, or he wouldn’t even be able to allow himself this reprieve before the inevitable new name, new place, new business.
“At least now I understand,” she said.
“I’m sorry the truth is so ugly.”
“I can’t say you didn’t try to warn me.” She managed a forgiving smile, but seemed a bit shell-shocked and tentative, as if she’d just learned that the cat she’d been petting for days had rabies. “Let’s eat,” she said, beckoning him toward the kitchen. “I have to get back to work.”
He would rather have had her climb into bed with him, rather have had the chance to hold her. Maybe they had no future, but they had today.
Or was he just thrashing around, trying to find something or someone to hang on to? That would be a natural reaction. No one felt comfortable being cast out or isolated, even by circumstance. He’d been wandering in that wilderness long enough to know how lonely it could get. But he didn’t want to be the kind of bastard who’d drag a woman down with him—especially Eve. “Yeah, let’s eat.”