Forged Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 2)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Evan here tell you what we need?” Baruti asked.

  “You want me to get information out of my dad,” she said.

  “He said you’re the only person he’s going to talk to. Your mother said the same thing.”

  “I don’t want to talk to her.” Felecia leaned back against Evan’s hand.

  Baruti smiled, but his eyes looked at her with understanding. “We’re going to have to ask you to.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “We’ve prepared questions.” Sammy presented her with a sheet of paper. “And keep everything in English. Logan said you speak several languages. It would go faster if we didn’t have to get a third party translator.”

  Felecia scanned the questions. Some were random. Others made no sense. Still some were obvious.

  Baruti spent a few moments coaching her, suggesting ways to handle her father. Felecia was familiar with most of these tricks. She wasn’t sure how well they’d work, but it was worth a chance.

  “Just remember. He said he wanted to speak to you,” Baruti said.

  Logan shifted. “It could be a ploy to jerk us around.”

  “Maybe.” Sammy shrugged, but kept looking at her.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said, eager to leave the small space.

  “Oh, here.” Kelsey thrust a hoodie at Felecia. “Put this on.”

  Baruti grasped the door handle. “Ready?”

  She nodded and slid her arms into the knit sleeves.

  He opened the door and she stepped through.

  It was like stepping outside the day after a blizzard when the skies were clear. It was easily ten degrees cooler. The light was brighter and reflecting back at her off all that white and metal.

  She had to squint a bit to meet her father’s hard stare.

  “Only her. Not him,” he said.

  Felecia froze. She glanced over her shoulder at Evan who was looking at her in turn.

  Evan stared hard at the man for a moment then at her. He sighed and spoke softly. “He’s restrained. He can’t get to you and I’ll be on the other side of the door, okay?”

  It sounded reasonable.

  She still hated it.

  “Okay,” she murmured.

  Evan stepped back and shut the door, closing her in this cell with her father. The one person she wanted to be far away from.

  Felecia felt herself falling back into her shell, drawing up her walls, putting on a blank face. The only difference was that she wasn’t the one chained up this time.

  “So, you finally came to face me,” he said speaking in Russian.

  She had to begin as she intended to continue. She squared her shoulders and took a step toward the table. “English.”

  Her father regarded her for a few moments as she pulled out the chair across from him and sat.

  “Have you seen your mother?” he asked, complying with her direction to speak in English.

  “That woman is not my mother,” she snapped before she could get the white hot rage in check.

  “She is, and she loves you very much.”

  Felecia glared at him. She swallowed down all the things she wanted to say to him. Answers were the important thing now, not her desire to scream at this man.

  “How is your brother?” Obran leaned toward him.

  Felecia grit her teeth and stared at him. She was not going to allow him to take control here.

  He offered her no explanations, no apologies, just forged ahead. Only he was the one in chains now, not her.

  “You aren’t asking questions here, I am,” she reminded him.

  “I’m not allowed to ask about my own son?”

  “You aren’t allowed to ask me any questions.” The lie sounded believable rolling off her tongue. And she liked it. He couldn’t question her authority, not if she was the only other person in the room.

  She got to set the rules.

  Not him.

  “Okay.” He shrugged after a moment and leaned back, studying her face. “They’ve been treating you okay. That’s an observation, not a question.”

  “Even if it was a question, I wouldn’t answer.” She picked up her sheet of paper and glanced over the questions.

  “They want to know about my clients,” he said.

  From the list of questions they wanted to know a lot more than just who he’d made new lives for.

  “You have to understand that revealing that information puts you at risk,” he said. “If my enemies can’t get to me, they’ll go after you. I don’t think these people mean to protect you once you’ve served your purpose.”

  Felecia kept her eyes on the questions so she wouldn’t betray herself. She’d thought as much. Maybe that was something she should discuss with Evan?

  He shifted and the chains securing his wrists scraped on the metal table. “Ask your questions. Important ones first. I only have so much patience.”

  Felecia lifted her gaze and looked at him.

  He still believed he was in control.

  A chill swept her.

  Why was he so calm? What did he know they didn’t? And why was she lumping herself with the people on the other side of that window?

  Important questions first.

  Despite agreeing to talk to her, she knew he wasn’t going to cooperate fully.

  What would he do?

  She mulled that over for a moment.

  He’d answer an odd number. Three or five, enough to give them something to chew on, but not everything they wanted. It was a power struggle now. He might be a prisoner, but he still had what the people on the other side of that window anted.

  Logan had been intent on the Horsemen before. That was their real goal. The rest of this was something else. Besides, it was the Horsemen she feared.

  Felecia laid the paper face down then folded her hands across her stomach.

  “The Horsemen. Tell me everything you know about them. Who they were, who you made them, why. I want to know why you sent them after me.”

  Obran grimaced and muttered something that might have been, “Like I had a choice.”

  “What was that?” She tilted her head.

  “I didn’t send the Horsemen after you. I didn’t want them involved. Someone else did.” He stared at her, his eyes boring into her skull as if he could impart some hidden knowledge to her. “They are very dangerous men.”

  “I killed one of them,” she said before she could think better about sharing that secret.

  Her father’s brows rose, but that was the only change in expression. “Then you’re really in trouble. Which one?”

  “Kurt.”

  Obran’s mouth opened and closed. He turned his head and looked at the window.

  “What have you done?” he asked the people beyond the glass.

  “Hey,” she snapped. “I’m the one you wanted to talk to.”

  He glanced back at her. “We’re done. No more questions. You got an answer. Talk to me tomorrow.”

  “That’s not how this goes.” She gripped the edge of the table.

  “It’s what you’re going to get.” Obran licked his lips and darted a look at the window before focusing on her. “Those men, the Horseman as they like to call themselves? They’re crazy, sick bastards. If you killed one of them they’re coming after you. You might have a chance if you stay close to these people. So if protecting you means we’re done here, then we’re done.”

  “Protecting me?” She spat the two foul tasting words.

  “I’ve always protected you.”

  “You’ve held me prisoner. You’ve abused me. You never protected me.”

  “Everything I’ve done is about protecting you, you spoiled child,” he snarled back.

  Her father had never held his tongue well.

  The interview room door slammed open and Evan stood there, stone faced, his icy blue eyes focused on Obran. Felecia couldn’t deny that she felt some relief at having Evan physically there.

  “Everywhere she goes you’re not
far away,” Obran said. “Are you her keeper now? Will you keep her safe?”

  “I’m my own keeper now.” Felecia grit her teeth and stood, taking the sheet of paper with her. She didn’t plan on allowing anyone to cage her again.

  “They’ll come for her. If she killed one of them, they’ll want her dead when they learn about that. You want me to cooperate? Keep her safe.”

  Evan inclined his head slightly. It was just the barest inclination of his head, but there it was.

  Felecia stalked out of the room.

  Men. Talking over her head. Like she couldn’t take care of herself.

  “That was not what we talked about,” Sammy said as soon as the door shut behind her.

  She thrust the piece of paper at him then turned toward the hall.

  “Back off,” Evan said in a low, dangerous voice.

  She strode out in the hall. It was warmer. The walls weren’t closing in on her.

  Felecia closed her eyes, tipped her head back and drew in a deep breath.

  Was Dad right? Would those men, the Horsemen, come after her? Did she have enemies now? And what had she done to get them? Protect herself?

  She knew it was more than that. People who operated in her father’s circles weren’t normal people. They didn’t conform to natural rules. Many viewed themselves as being above or outside the law.

  A firm hand wrapped around her elbow. She knew without looking it was Evan. He didn’t hold on to her with a steel grip, he held her with care. She shifted, leaning toward him.

  “I want to go back to my room,” she said quietly.

  “They want you to speak with Karen.”

  “No.”

  His hand slid from her arm to her back. “That’s what I told them. Come on.”

  Relief unfurled inside of her. She was so damn tired.

  “Do you believe what he said about the Horsemen?” Evan asked after they’d turned the corner.

  “Yes.” She didn’t have to think about that answer. “He really did seem concerned. Why though? Why would a man who kept me as a prisoner care about what happened to me?”

  Evan took her hand but didn’t answer.

  She didn’t say anything else until they reached her room. Evan directed her to stay in the hall while he went in, as if he were worried about her safety even here.

  But of course he would be.

  The mole.

  Felecia followed him into her room and shut the door behind her.

  “You think I’m still in danger,” she said. She didn’t have to ask, she already knew.

  “If your father’s worried, we should be.” Evan grasped her by her shoulders, sliding his hands down to her elbows then back up. “Then there’s…”

  She nodded.

  “I just want to be careful.” He glanced at his watch. “Dinner should be served soon. Think you can eat?”

  “Yes. Then sleep.” She pulled away from him and sat on the edge of the bed, all her strength leaving her. “I’m exhausted.”

  Evan kneeled in front of her. “I’m sure you are.”

  He was her fierce protector. From the moment they’d locked eyes she’d been safe so long as she was with him. Then there was the knowing. He was important to her future. Her heart. Maybe it was a false sense of protection, but she’d take what she could get.

  “Where are you staying?” she asked.

  He studied her for several long moments, his stony face giving nothing away.

  Was his team leaving? Had something happened while she was in the room?

  “I want to stay close to you,” he said.

  “Would you stay with me?” Felecia didn’t want to rely on anyone. She wanted to be strong. But right now she needed someone. Him.

  “I’d like that.” He squeezed her knee.

  The tightness in her chest eased a little.

  “Me, too,” she whispered.

  Evan leaned toward her, his gaze drifting down to her mouth. She fisted the comforter in one hand while a little voice in her mind cheered. He closed the distance between them and slid his lips along hers in a teasing caress. She followed him, everything focused on that point where their skin touched.

  He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, sealing his mouth over hers. She sighed and wound her arms around him.

  This connection they shared was pure. She didn’t know what to call it or how to describe it beyond an all-encompassing yearning for him. It was good, and she hadn’t had a lot of good in her life. Not until Evan, which made her all the more desperate to hold on to it.

  21.

  Wednesday. FBI Holding Facility. Austin, Texas.

  Evan was glad to see that pasta wasn’t on the menu again. He could appreciate that a good lasagna checked all the boxes for what they needed in the field, but it got monotonous after days of eating one variation after another of the same dish. The Tex Mex was a welcome change.

  Had Felecia ever had it before? Well, good Tex Mex.

  The halls of the FBI facility were mostly empty at this hour. The majority of those working here had gone home, leaving a skeleton crew behind to man clockwork, like watching Obran. Though the FBI agents had no real idea of who and what they were involved with. As far as anyone knew their team had apprehended a wanted criminal crossing state boundaries with his kidnapped son.

  It was crazy and plausible enough no one had asked further questions.

  Evan slowed his pace as he rounded the corner.

  He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

  The others were nowhere to be seen. He was grateful for that.

  He had pulled Logan aside earlier and come clean to him about Evan’s relationship with Felecia. Logan had just stared at him and said, “Make smart choices,” before turning back to what he’d been doing. Of course Logan had known by then. How could he not?

  Evan gave the hall one last look in either direction before leaning close to the door. “Felecia, it’s me.”

  A moment later the lock clicked and the door swung open on the tiny, one-room apartment.

  “I’m starving.” Her nose seemed to twitch. “What is that?”

  “Ever had Mexican food?” He set the containers on the two chairs facing the bed, serving as a sort of side table.

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “It wasn’t very good.”

  Evan prayed this was the good stuff. “Just try it.”

  They settled on the edge of the bed. The TV was on to a show he vaguely recognized. It was another sitcom, that much he knew.

  He handed her the plastic utensils and watched as she studied the food dubiously. It was a simple enchilada plate offering a variety of cheese, chicken and beef along with beans and rice. She cut into what he thought was the chicken enchilada and slid the bite into her mouth.

  Almost immediately her brows shot up as she chewed.

  “Wow. That’s nothing like what I had,” she said.

  Evan grinned. “See?”

  He tucked into his meal and they devoured it in silence broken only by the show. Every now and then he stole sidelong looks at Felecia and had to hide his smile. He would never say a lady was shoveling food in, but she was eating with enthusiasm and mostly done with his plate while he watched.

  What would it be like picking a restaurant with her? Did she ever have a voice in what she ate? Or was that always decided for her?

  It was a sobering question. Such a normal, trivial matter and he seriously doubted her preferences were considered. That wasn’t the kind of person her father was.

  The more he got to understand her, the more he realized how important these average activities were to her. Like her so-called boring movie nights at home. She wanted so much to be average.

  “That was so good.” She closed the lid on her plate then flopped back.

  He twisted a bit and chuckled at her.

  She frowned at his food. “Are you not hungry?”

  “Some of us just eat slower,” he said as a lame excuse.

  She smirke
d, obviously not buying it. He turned his attention on finishing his dinner while she reclined at his side on the bed. Before the credits rolled on her show he was done with his meal and feeling the drain. Their accommodations on the plane had been comfortable, but those cabins were not made for people over six foot to truly stretch out.

  He turned toward Felecia, intending to ask her if she wanted to watch a movie like they’d talked about.

  Her eyes were shut and her hair fanned out around her. When she slept, she looked so young and innocent.

  Felecia cracked one eye open and looked up at him. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He leaned back on one elbow, reclining next to her.

  “It’s never nothing,” she groused.

  “You just looked peaceful.”

  The corners of her mouth curved up. “For the first time in a long time I’m not worried. There was always the chance someone would show up—like you did—and things would go badly. Or Dad would rush in and we’d have to go quickly. Here it’s just…peaceful. I know things are still uncertain, but… It’s just not the same.”

  Evan nodded. Here there wasn’t a direct threat to her life. Zora might push Felecia and threaten her with prison, but Felecia’s life wasn’t in danger. That meant something.

  He slid his arm over her waist, wanting that contact to settle his own mind.

  “What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Zora wants to do a formal interview with you. I imagine she’ll also want to take another crack at your parents. You know, your dad insisting he’ll only talk to you makes you valuable?”

  “It also leaves the door open for suspicion. It makes it look like we’re still working together.”

  “Then you need to be completely honest about everything with Zora. Whatever has her in this mood, don’t give her more ammunition.”

  Felecia nodded.

  “You got to America though,” he said quietly.

  “Not the way I wanted to.”

  “I’m going to make some calls once we are settled and see what if I can get something worked out for you.” He knew he could. The question was, would it be above or below board? For her sake he hoped it could happen the proper way. “Have you given any thought for what you want to do after?”