Man Law

by Adrienne Giordano

  “Gina’s been calling every hour, but thanks.” Mike brushed fuzz off his pants. “I met your mother. She seems like she’s gotten her act together.”

  His stomach twisted like scrap metal and he slid a sideways glance toward the three musketeers by the bookcase. “It’s too early to tell.”

  No way he’d let himself believe in her and wind up disappointed. He’d been around that block too many times already.

  “I need some air.” He stood, but Mike held up a hand.

  “I know the timing stinks, and I’m sorry.”

  What could be worse than Tiny’s funeral?

  Vic settled into his chair again. “What’s up?”

  “I got a call from our neighbor at the farm. He got an offer on the property we talked about.”

  The training-center property. Vic’s dream. He hadn’t made a decision yet and Mike needed an answer.

  “An offer already?”

  Mike held out his hands.

  “Is he jerking us around? Trying to jack up the price?” Vic didn’t want to be forced into a decision.

  “I don’t think so. He said he wanted to let us know since we had inquired first. He’s giving us first shot. Like I said, the timing stinks, but I need to know if you’ve thought about this.”

  Vic slouched in the chair, stared out the window. “Yeah, I thought about it. How could I not? I’m just not there yet. It’s a huge change. I figured I had a little more time.”

  “It’s a nice piece of property.”

  “Damn nice.” Vic’s mind moved at warp speed.

  He could say yes and have a life with Gina. He could say no and possibly lose Gina, but hang on to the life he knew. The life he’d been building for years and had become comfortable with.

  Mike leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “If you’re not ready to do it yet but think down the road it’s a definite, we should buy the property and hang on to it. We could use it to train our own guys until you’re ready to do a full-blown training center. If we pass on this, we may not get another opportunity to grab that much acreage so close to our existing facility.”

  Vic stared at him, not sure what to say. Mike had just told him he’d be willing to spend almost seven million bucks on a not sure. “You’d do that for me?”

  Mike grinned. “My sister is making you a sissy.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Seriously, yes, I’d do that for you. Call it a long-term investment.”

  Vic stood, held his hand to Mike. “Make the deal. I’ll go on the hook for half the cash if you want. If we lose money, it’ll be both of ours.”

  “I’m not worried about it. It’s a smart move.”

  A smart move. Vic snorted. So why did it feel like everything that brought him comfort was being washed away? He rubbed a hand over his head. “I really need some air.”

  Mike slapped him on the back. “You’re stressed. It’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He stepped onto the wide porch that spanned the length of the house and wrapped around the side. He eyeballed the swing, now painted a shocking red. When had that happened? The change hit him like a gut punch. So many fucking changes.

  He’d barely flopped down when the door opened. Couldn’t these people leave him alone?

  Aunt May. Oh no. Bad enough he’d gotten her son killed, now he had to look at her and know he’d caused that sadness. Guilt was a new and fucked-up thing in his world, and he wished he’d never allowed his emotions to run amok.

  Aunt May smiled in spite of herself. She’d made a special effort to dress nice in a dark green dress and heels, her hair pulled back into a knot. She wore pearl earrings and a necklace. She’d done her son proud today. He blinked a few times, cleared his vision and tried to think about anything but suffocating.

  She sat next to him. “Are you hiding?”

  “It’s not working.”

  He pushed off with one foot and set the swing in motion while she laughed at him.

  “You could never hide from me.”

  “True enough.”

  He shifted to her, stared at her long perfect nose and green eyes similar to his. Green eyes like his mother’s. He opened his mouth, shut it again.

  “He wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.” She reached for his hand. “Justin was a grown man. He knew the danger.”

  Vic shrugged. “I sensed something wasn’t right with him that night. He cared about Lily. He shouldn’t have even been there.”

  “You care about Lily and you were there. Would anyone have been able to convince you not to go?”

  She had a point there. Smart-ass. “Not a chance.”

  Aunt May nodded. “Okay, then. Stop blaming yourself. We have enough to deal with around here with him being—” she stopped, put a hand over her eyes, sucked in a ragged breath, “—with him being gone, so let’s help each other through it.”

  Vic stared straight ahead. Avoiding his aunt’s pain would be easier than trying to live with it. Sweep it into a pile, manage it.

  “You know,” she said, “the only way to the other side is through it. All your life you’ve been hiding your feelings, hardening them into something you could control. It won’t work this time. Let yourself hurt for a while. It’ll never go away, but it’ll get better.”

  He nodded and blinked back his sissy tears. Crying? Seriously? “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled a tight-lipped smile, ran her hand down the back of his head the way she’d done when he was twelve. “Me too.”

  A warm breeze fluttered the trees and Vic put his head back. “So. My mother?”

  Aunt May sighed. “I didn’t tell you she was coming. I knew it would upset you and I didn’t see any reason for you to know until you absolutely had to. My intentions were good and I’d do it again.”

  “I’m not mad at you, although I would have liked a warning. She’s actually clean?”

  “She is. I know it’s hard to believe, but she went to rehab and goes to meetings every day. Your uncle got her a job as a desk clerk in a motel. The money isn’t great, but she’s working. She’s trying, Vic.”

  He stared off, enjoyed the bright blue sky while his mind went ape-shit.

  “Do you think,” he asked, “she did the right thing by leaving me?”

  Aunt May sat back and thought about it. “I can’t say she did the right thing, but I can’t say she did wrong either. It’s never right to abandon a child, but we were afraid you’d wind up in the system. You were so close to Justin and Tiffany, and I didn’t want my children to grow up without their cousin. I talked her into it.”

  This was the equivalent of setting C-4 off in front of him. His ears clanged. “You did? She didn’t just up and leave?”

  Aunt May shook her head. “She and I talked about it for a couple of months. I told you that when you came to live with us. You don’t remember?”

  The weight of his head pushed him forward. Holy shit. Had he done this to himself? Created this scenario where his mother dumped him without thinking twice when, in actuality, she’d given it a lot of thought? Oh, damn. The years he’d spent hating her and loving her at the same time and never talking to anyone about it.

  He wandered across the porch, needing to get rid of the whooshing in his ears. He alone had created the emotionally bankrupt man he’d become.

  “Holy hell,” he said, stacking his hands on his head.

  Aunt May walked to him, put a hand on his back. “Talk to her. She doesn’t want anything but a conversation. Maybe the two of you can find a place to begin again.”

  His heels fused to the porch. All he could do was stare at the quiet, tree-lined street where he’d played football and baseball. The only place he’d known as home.

  “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

  Yes. Everyone. Please. Leave me alone.

  He nodded.

  “All right, but I want you to think about something for me.”

  At the soft sound of her voice the tens
ion in his body uncoiled. “Anything.”

  “I want you to think about giving up your job.”

  “But—”

  She held up her hands. “You may not be my biological child, but you are the child of my heart,” she said, her voice fracturing. She took a minute, focused on the porch rail and looked back to him, tears rimming her eyes. “I’ve just lost one of my children. Please don’t make me go through this again.”

  He shrugged. “It’s all I know.”

  “I realize that, but I suspect you have more at stake now.”

  “You mean Gina and the kids?”

  She nodded. “They must be important to you or we wouldn’t have buried my son today.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m sure it is. But I have faith in you and I think you’ll do what’s best. The children I raised generally do.”

  Yeah. No pressure there.

  Airport lounge areas sucked. Vic had an hour before his flight and he slouched in a crappy way-too-small-for-his-body plastic chair.

  A smattering of people wandered aimlessly at the newsstand or snack bar. He made calls and checked his emails. Nothing urgent, but it had been a busy week in Chicago. In the seven days he’d been gone, the feds had raided Sirhan’s warehouse and market and had confiscated everything. Guns, money, drugs. All of it. Gerard Conlin’s dead body remained a mystery, but the authorities assumed the death was a result of a gun sale gone bad.

  Lucky me.

  All in all, Vic and his team helped bust a multi-city terrorist ring filtering millions of dollars into illegal activities. They’d never be able to take credit, but the result was good.

  Still, Sirhan stayed free. Hiding. The fucking rat bastard. The feds couldn’t tie him to anything. No paper trail. They knew it was him, though.

  His phone chirped. An unrecognizable DC number. Must be Lynx on his Maxwell Smart shoe phone.

  Vic hit the button, grabbed his duffel and stepped away from the crowd. “What’s up?”

  “I thought you might want to know we got a read on your friend.”

  His friend? Had to be Sirhan. Otherwise he’d have said his name. Adrenaline packed into his veins. “Where is he?”

  “We got some chatter that he’s in a small village in Pakistan. Suleiman Mountain region.”

  Vic leaned against a support pole at one of the vacant gates and stared at the tarmac. Planes rolled by ready to launch into the early morning sky. “Are you telling me my contact is going to call me with an assignment?”

  “Not yet. We’re short on plausible deniability. I thought you’d want to know.”

  O-kay. Translation: the government thought things were too hot to take Sirhan out. But Lynx had added the “not yet.” He never said anything he didn’t intend to.

  “Would anyone be averse to the problem going away?” Vic tapped his foot, anticipating the answer he hoped for.

  “I don’t think anyone would mind if you managed this one on your own.”

  Yes. His system roared to life like one of those big-engine planes sitting on the runway.

  “Send me what you’ve got and I’ll take care of it.”

  “No problem.”

  “And, hey, thanks.”

  “You got it,” Lynx said and hung up.

  Lynx had taken a risk by passing this info along and Vic would always appreciate it. They’d been friends over ten years and Lynx understood the grief burning a hole in him. Vic would do everyone a favor and take Sirhan out. Gina and the kids would be safe, not to mention the world would be rid of this scumbag and they would all get on with their lives.

  “Going to Pakistan,” he muttered to himself.

  “You’re back,” Gina said from the doorway of Vic’s office.

  Damn, she was quick. He’d only been in the building thirty minutes. He sat back in his chair, let himself enjoy the sight of her in the tight black skirt he’d come to love. Shadows darkened her eyes. The result of Lily’s nightmares, he surmised. The poor girl had lost a good friend in Tiny and she was too young to be dealing with it all.

  Even more reason to take Sirhan out. He’d just keep telling himself that.

  “I was going to call you in a few minutes. I got caught up in my messages.”

  She waved him off. “That’s all right. I brought some paperwork up for Michael, and he told me you were back.”

  Vic nodded. A weeklong gulf had landed between them and he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Going to Pakistan wouldn’t do it. He should sit her down and talk to her about his guilt over putting her family in danger. About Tiny dying and the grief eating him alive. That was what she wanted. And what he couldn’t give. Not now anyway. He needed to stick to his routine and close off for a while. Deal with the anger on his own. Go dormant.

  “How’s Lily?” he asked.

  Gina curled her lip. “Hanging in there. She misses Tiny. I took her to that therapist Michael recommended. The one that deals with post-traumatic stress disorder. He’s a nice man and very patient with her. She seems to be responding.”

  “I’m glad for that, at least.”

  Then she stepped closer to the desk and leaned in. “She misses you too. I miss you.”

  He tapped his fingers on the desk. If ever he heard a call to action, it was now. “Me too.”

  Lame. Very lame.

  Silence widened the gulf and she folded her arms. “What’s this about?”

  Uh-oh.

  Play dumb.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I get you’re hurting. I know how that feels, but why am I being treated like a leper? I’ve given you all the space you wanted, so I’m not real clear on what the hell it is I did to you.”

  He walked around the desk to stand in front of her. “Nothing. You did nothing. You have to know that.”

  She sighed. “So stop shutting me out. I know a lot has happened and I’m trying not to push you, but you need to help. Give me something to hang on to.”

  “I’m going out of town,” he blurted.

  Not much to hang on to, but the truth.

  She gawked at him, eyes razor sharp. “You’re leaving again?”

  “Duty calls.”

  Being a smart woman, she knew that meant he had an assignment. He’d given her a piss-poor answer and, prick that he was, he’d done it on purpose. He knew it would push her over the edge.

  “Duty. Calls. That’s all you’re telling me?”

  He kept quiet. Saying anything right now would be the wrong thing.

  She gave a sarcastic laugh. “When will you be back?”

  “Hopefully, a few days. Not sure.”

  The moment drifted between them in silence. She was pissed. He could see it in the harsh lines in her face. The tight lips. Hell, he could feel all that anger channeling right to him. Didn’t blame her, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it.

  “I won’t do this, Vic. I won’t spend my life wondering when and if you’ll come back. I can’t live in standby mode. My kids and I deserve better.”

  The words hit him like cannon fire. He stepped back, reached behind him for the desk and propped himself on the edge of it. Gina waited. He should say something to cancel out everything she’d just said, but he couldn’t. Maybe he wanted her to walk away. Then he wouldn’t have to change his life and give up the only comfortable thing he’d known.

  Only, he hadn’t imagined the gutted feeling that came with hearing the words. Tiny’s death started the vacant feelings and now, with Gina walking away, nothing but loss surrounded him. And he’d caused it.

  “I understand, but can we talk about it when I get back?”

  “Will anything change between now and then?”

  Jesus H. Christ, he needed a break. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

  “Then there’s nothing to talk about. I can compromise, but not on this.”

  He needed to say something worthwhile. Honest. She liked honesty. He
levered off the desk and went to her. “I do love you. I love you in a way I never expected, and, honestly, I never wanted. I never wanted the constant agony of wondering if you’re okay and the kids are okay and hoping I don’t screw up. I never worried about screwing up before. I never cared. It’s much easier than the mental chaos I’ve got now.”

  “Sure, but what about the good stuff? All the laughs. The fun. The love. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “You bet it does. It makes me realize what I’ve missed all these years and that’s something else I’ll have to contend with, but I can’t do it now. I have one more job to do and it’ll put an end to this madness. It’ll be the thing that frees me from the guilt over Tiny. I know you’ll never understand, but I have to do this.”

  She clamped on to his forearms. “Please don’t go after Sirhan. Let someone else do it.”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. They both knew he’d finish it. She threw her hands over her face and after a minute her shoulders began to shake. Crap. Crying.

  Think. Do something, asshole. Fix this.

  After a moment, she pulled her hands away, swiped at the tears. “I knew this would happen. The dark side will always win with you. You just can’t help it.”

  She hustled out of the office. He took a step to go after her and stopped. No. His way would be better.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Man Law: Always wait it out.

  “Daddy’s home,” Vic said, edging between two boulders while adjusting his binoculars. The late-afternoon wind offered little relief from the heat.

  He shifted right and examined the valley three hundred feet below. Odd shades of red, brown and tan boulders lay strewn over the valley floor.

  A quarter mile away, and directly across the desolate lowland, sat a cabin on the other side of the valley. The obscure structure was nestled in a recess at the base of the towering Sulaiman Mountain range. Two armed guards watched from their stations on the cabin’s front porch.

  Hopefully, it was the cabin.

  Vic glanced to his left at Monk, his unwelcome cohort on this op. Mike, sneaky bastard that he was, offered the corporate jet for the trip, and Vic gladly accepted but stepped on the plane to find Monk buckled up and ready to fly. Then the traitorous pilot informed him that Mr. Taylor gave orders he couldn’t take off if Monk wasn’t on board.