by Linzi Basset
“I need more details. You’re placing my position at the CIA at risk with all these constant demands. All those documents you’re asking for are classified information.”
Damien had expected this response. Baxter had been resistant following orders lately. He suppressed the smirk that threatened to surface. Baxter was making his exit from their organization easier. Burgess wouldn’t balk at eliminating Baxter altogether.
“I’m getting tired of repeating myself, Baxter. You do not get to make demands. You do as you’re told. Don’t forget that you work for us. I can take away your success quite easily. I want the information the CIA gathered on the mafia’s sex slave trade. How difficult can it be?” He sat forward. “And we’re still waiting for the recovery of the drugs we lost in the bust. When are you going to get that done?”
Adam bristled silently while driving to CIA headquarters. If the Sixth Order caught wind that he’d used their drugs to sugarcoat his dealings with Vito Vitale, the mafia boss who was now at the helm of all five major mob families in the United States, he was a dead man. It had been the reason for his trip. In the short time Vitale has been in charge, he’d become feared and respected in the crime circles. At least he treated Adam with the respect his position deserved.
If Vitale found out that the Sixth Order intended to interfere in their sex slave trade, Adam Baxter would be a dead man.
As far as Ace was concerned, Vitale offered him much more for her services than the Sixth Order did.
Damien Whittaker and the Sixth Order had served their purpose. He now had his sights on bigger fish. Vito Vitale was the shark in the ocean and if there was one thing Adam had learned in his line of work, it was to know which side his bread was buttered. It might be in his best interest to whisper the Sixth Order’s plan into Vitale’s ear. Let him take care of them. It would make Adam’s load much lighter.
He thought briefly about his decision to concentrate on his promotion. But it paled in comparison to what Vitale could offer him in the long run.
The meeting with Vitale had been enlightening but he expected results quickly and signing Ace for them instead of the Sixth Order, was his first priority.
It was time to tighten the noose around her neck. He parked in his designated underground parking bay and took the burner phone out of the cubbyhole. He could hear the whining of machinery in the background when she answered.
“Back at work, Ace? I expected you to take some time off and use the money you made on your last job for an extended vacation,” he taunted her. He chuckled at the silence that followed. “Still sour with me, Ace? Come now, you and I always worked well together. This time will be no different.”
“I told you, I’m not interested. And let me make this clear; I’ll never work for you again, Adam Baxter. I did what you wanted and now I’m going to see my sister. I’m warning you, don’t try and keep me from her any longer.”
The threat was clear in her tone. Adam tsk’ed and then sighed. “Very well, Ace but only when and where I say. I’m warning you; don’t go near her in the meantime. I will send you details for the meeting.”
“I don’t want a meeting. I want my sister. She’s coming home with me,” Samantha seethed, sick and tired of being manipulated.
“Well, my dear, that would solely depend on whether you sign the contract with me.”
Samantha bristled and slowly counted to twenty to calm herself.
“Are you saying you’ll only release her if I commit to working for the NCS?”
“Well, not exactly the NCS, Ace, but you’ll report directly to me. And no, I’m not disclosing any further information at this time. You sound busy, so I won’t keep you any longer.”
He ended the conversation. This time, he had her. She wouldn’t hesitate to agree to Vitale’s terms. Not with the power he had over her.
* * * * * * * *
Yesterday was history, tomorrow was supposed to be a mystery and today? Today was the present. Samantha had nothing worth remembering from her past, apart from fond memories of her family. Her time in Silver Sting was best left forgotten. Since she’d met Rhone, there was a possibility of a future ahead. But now, all she felt was apprehension.
She was tired of this roller coaster called life. For every step she took into the future, she went two steps back into her past. The peace she’d experienced during the past six years had made her believe there was a chance for her to find happiness. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She felt tears burn behind her eyelids. She’d been naive to believe that she’d be able to move on.
“Not for as long as Adam Baxter is in the picture. He’ll never release me from this hell!”
Samantha didn’t know if she had the strength left to rise above all of this. Maybe it would be better to relent and give Bulldog what he wanted.
“Then their might at least be some vestige of hope that I would have Lauren in my life and I can redeem myself by making sure that Keon gets his daughter back.”
But that would also mean giving up Rhone. Could she survive without him in her life? Now, the love she felt for him, made the future worthwhile.
She continued to contemplate her options while driving home. Her fingers trailed over the diamond collar around her throat. Richard had disabled the signal from her collar, but Rhone had fixed that at first opportunity.
“Your safety is paramount to me, luv. It’s either that, or you become glued to my side from this point,” he’d barked at her when she’d protested the need for it.
“The danger is over, honey. Now that he believes you to be dead, he’ll stay away from me and for that matter, he doesn’t care what I do as long as I agree to his demands.”
“Exactly. He’s still a factor. Choose, Samantha.”
Samantha smiled at the memory. She loved him even if he was being overbearing, albeit for her security. It made her feel cared for. She chose to believe it was because he had feelings for her, not that it wasn’t a natural Dominant characteristic.
“Maybe I should tell him who Bulldog is. I can’t go back to that life. I want more. I want love. God, I want Rhone’s children,” she whispered into the silence of the car.
That was all it took to make the decision. She changed direction and soon parked her Mini Cooper next to Rhone’s Hummer in the underground parking lot of Precision Secure.
“Hey, Richard.” She greeted him as she walked into the computer server room where he was working. He’d been here every day. He was getting along famously with Max and the rest of the group seemed to like him as well. Rhone was the only one who still walked circles around him. “Any progress? Did the meeting with Alex White prove productive?”
“Hell, yes! We’ve done it, Samantha. We have the codes to deactivate the bracelets.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
“Rhone and Keon agreed with Governor White that it should be done with Lauren and Beckie present. Just in case Bulldog gets hint that it’s being deactivated. They don’t want to take any chances and I agree with them.”
“Then we need to do it! What are we waiting for? I need to go and talk to Rhone. I’m done, Richard. I’m going to tell him about Bulldog.”
“Maybe you should hold off on that a bit,” Richard cautioned with a guarded look on his face.
“Why? Talk to me, Richard. What do you know?”
“You should watch this. I recorded it while having lunch with Max and Keon after our meeting with Governor White.”
He searched for the video on his cell and handed it to her. Samantha paled when she watched Adam Baxter approach their table. Her mouth fell open as he gave Keon a man-hug and slapped him and Max on the back. His hateful voice sounded smug in her ears. “How . . . what?” Samantha stammered then quietened to listen.
“I was shocked to hear about Rhone. I’m sorry I missed his funeral but I was out of town. He was one of my best friends. He will be missed. Have you managed to find out who did it?”
“No, but we assume it was a mob hit. He’s been on their
hit list for years. The FBI is still looking into it but I suspect they’ll close the case soon.”
“His death really was senseless. I’m sorry, Keon. It must be hard on you. Suffering such a loss after . . . you know . . . having lost your family.”
He seemed genuinely distressed.
“We should do a round of golf. How does Saturday sound? All five of us,” Adam’s voice intoned again.
“Why not. None of us have had the time to relax in a long time. The Country Club?” Max agreed.
“Fucking hypocrite! I don’t understand. They’re friends? But . . . fuck, Richard, what’s going on?”
“For what it’s worth, Keon and Max questioned his sincerity while we were driving back here. Something about his attitude bothered them. I did some digging. They were all in varsity together and have been friends ever since. Except for a couple of years when Baxter lost the prime position of fullback to Rhone in the football league. Baxter was livid. Their friendship soured for a couple of years until they met up again and decided to let bygones be bygones.”
“It still doesn’t make sense, Richard. Something like that isn’t reason enough for him to hate Rhone as much as Adam does. He killed Keon’s wife for god’s sake and don’t forget about his daughter!”
“Baxter needed that position for a football scholarship. He had dreams of becoming a major league football player. After that he dropped out and stopped playing completely. Something like that festers, especially as Rhone and Keon have been successful in their lives.”
“But still; to go to such an extreme? Killing an innocent woman and child and now Rhone? Something doesn’t add up, Richard. There has to be more to it.”
Richard shrugged his wide shoulders. “Maybe, but do you think it’s wise to tell them who Bulldog is, knowing what you do now?”
“Dammit, Richard! He’s a bastard.”
“But they don’t know that. For all we know they’ll laugh at you when you tell them. Or think you’re trying to mislead them.”
Samantha was now more frustrated than ever and twice as confused.
“Maybe you’re right. I won’t tell them who Bulldog is. At least until we have Lauren and Beckie back.”
“I don’t think so.”
Samantha froze at the chilled voice behind her. She turned to face him. Trepidation swelled through her as she raised her eyes to his. They were as cold as his voice had been. Proof of his antagonism toward her.
“Rhone, just give me a little more time,” she tried to pacify him.
“In my office,” he grated through thin lips. “Now, Samantha,” he ordered when she hesitated.
With a resigned glance at Richard, she turned toward the door. Rhone clamped his hand around her elbow.
“I’m not going to run away, Rhone. You don’t have to―”
“Quiet.”
She thought it prudent to follow his order and kept her mouth shut. Rhone ushered her inside and pushed her into the chair.
“I’m waiting,” he warned when she didn’t say a word.
“Oh, am I allowed to talk now?” She scoffed without looking at him. Her mind was swirling with the implications of telling him who Bulldog was.
“Do not test my patience any longer, Samantha.”
He began to pace in front of the window. His body was taut and seemed twice as large―somewhat intimidating and frightening.
“Rhone, I have to warn you―”
“No. I am not interested in any more games. You will tell me his name. Goddammit, Samantha, what are you trying to hide? You declare your feelings for me, yet you don’t trust me to keep you safe.”
“It’s not my safety I’m worried about,” she said quietly.
A string of expletives echoed to the roof.
“E-fucking-nough! Do I look like I need you to protect me? Jesus! You wouldn’t believe half of what I’ve survived in my life. Or . . .” he glowered at her, “does he mean more to you than you claimed?”
“God, no! But I’m scared for Lauren. He will kill her, Rhone.”
He went down on his haunches in front of her. His gaze was earnest, open and offered her hope for the first time since her family had been killed.
“Then let us help you to protect her. Let me help you, luv.”
Suddenly she was tired. Of everything that had brought her to this point in her life. Most of all she was tired of being alone. There had been a silence to her soul all these years like fall leaves under frost. The chill that had always been in her blood warmed under his heated gaze, bringing the synapses of my brain alive with visions of the future. The anesthesia of false hope dissolved with the soft kiss he placed on her lips.
“Trust me, Samantha. Believe in me.”
With those softly whispered words that sounded like a vow, the winter in her mind turned to spring.
She palmed his face and kissed him. A sweet kiss of acceptance transposed the deepest emotions from within to him.
“I don’t know how you’ll feel about it, Rhone . . . it’s . . . the man, you . . .” she stammered, trying to formulate the words to ease the disappointed she was sure would follow when she disclosed his name.
“From what I overheard, it seems our assumption that we personally know Bulldog is correct. Am I right?”
She nodded, her hands slipping to her lap as he straightened and gazed at her with an enigmatic expression.
“You’re worried that I won’t believe you? Like Richard said, that I’ll think you’re trying to mislead us.”
“Rhone, it’s never easy to hear someone you know―”
“It’s time to end this. The sooner we deal with him, the better. It’s not just my life on the line, luv, it’s also Lauren, Beckie and all of my friends. You included.” His look brooked no further resistance. “Tell me who he is.”
She cleared her throat and looked into his eyes.
“Adam Baxter.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Some people didn’t take surprises well. Lauren used to hate them when she was younger. When she opened the door to their knock, there was a moment when her face blanked with confusion, like her brain cogs couldn’t turn fast enough to take in the information. Every muscle in her body froze, before she stammered in a whisper, “Sandra? How? It can’t be!”
Surprise gave way to shock and she crumbled before their eyes. The shock of finding her older sister alive and well was too much to compute for Lauren.
Lance caught her in his arms and carried her into the den where he placed her on the sofa. Samantha sat down next to her and rubbed her hands. Her lips tightened when she encountered the thick bandage around her left hand.
“She looks so fragile; different from what I remember,” she murmured to herself.
Jack and Lance stood watching silently, their faces set in stone and their mouths flattened in a grim line. Rhone stayed outside with Keon to give Samantha time to warn Beckie that they were alive. They were worried that seeing them without warning would be too big a shock.
Samantha needed the time to reconnect with her sister but time was of essence. Max was scouring the house for cameras. They needed to get those bracelets off. Richard was ready to divert the signal from the bracelets as soon as they were removed.
“Lauren? Wake up, Sis.” Samantha patted her cheek. Lauren’s her eyes fluttered open and a gentle smile lit up her face. She stared wide-eyed at Samantha.
“You’re here.” She raised her hand and touched Samantha’s hair and then her face. “How is it possible? I saw the blood on your chest. I watched the video footage of the funeral.”
“It was all a lie, Sis. I was at the funeral. I stood next to five graves, alone and watched you being laid to rest. All these years I believed you were dead. I still can’t believe you survived that gunshot.”
Lauren unconsciously rubbed her fingers over the center of her chest. She bore upright, confusion swirled in her eyes.
“Samantha, we need to move,” Lance cautioned.
“Samantha?” L
auren asked, becoming even further confused.
“I had to change my name a few years ago. God! Lauren, I’m so happy to see you,” she cried and couldn’t hold back the tears.
Finally, they embraced each other, clinging and crying their joy. Samantha knew then, all would be well. They would be able to bridge the years they had lost one way or the other.
“Lauren, the little girl, Beckie? Where is she?”
“In her room. How do you know about . . . what’s going on?”
“Mom, why are you crying?” A concerned voice asked behind them. “Who are these people?” Her mouth gaped open when Samantha turned around. “You look like Mom Lauren. The photo on your bedside, is this your sister, Sandra? But, I thought she died?”
“Hi, Beckie. We both believed the other was dead but I’m not and neither is she; and for that matter . . . neither are you,” Samantha knew she was babbling but couldn’t contain her joy.
“I don’t understand.” Beckie walked closer and glanced at the two imposing men. She squinted at them, but even though they looked familiar, she couldn’t place them.
Samantha knelt in front of her and gently brushed back her hair.
“Do you know where your Daddy is, Beckie?”
Beckie frowned and glanced at Lauren. “In heaven. Someone shot him; like they did my Mommy and Uncle Rhone too. I was little but I still . . . remember that day.” She looked sad. “The other day I saw someone I thought looked like Uncle Rhone. But he didn’t come back so I guess Mom was right and I must’ve been mistaken.”
“You weren't, honey,” Samantha said gently. “Uncle Rhone is alive and he's here with me.”
Beckie’s smile lit up her face. “He is? Where? Where is he?”
Jack had signaled Rhone already and he walked into the room on cue. Beckie shrieked with joy and jumped into his arms, crying uncontrollably.
“I told you, Mom. I told you it was him.” She battled to breathe and the words puffed from her lips. “I saw you. I knew it was you!” Her thin arms clung around Rhone’s neck.
“Oh god, poppet, it feels so good to hold you,” he said into her hair, hiding the rush of emotion he couldn’t contain.