by Jade Kerrion
“Come on.” Rio waited only long enough for Cixi’s arms to wrap around his waist before accelerating away from the building.
The sound of bullets hitting pavement bid them farewell.
Cixi cursed again. “Zara doesn’t pay me enough for this shit.”
Rio’s mind blanked for an instant. “Zara?”
“Of course, Zara. Who did you think I was working for?”
Who? His thoughts spun. Your family. Yourself. I don’t know. I can’t tell what’s true and what’s not.
Cixi reached for her phone. “Zara, where are you?” she asked. “Good, you got out. Did you get it—damn it! All that work, all that time, for nothing.” She said something in Chinese as she slid the phone back into her pocket.
“You’re working for Zara?”
“Yes, but probably not for much longer. She’s furious, and people she’s furious with don’t tend to live long.”
“We’ve got to go in.”
“To the DEA? No, we’re not. The triad has someone on the inside. We can’t go to your parents either. The triad will hunt us down. Anyone with us is in danger.”
“I need to know what’s going on. We have to talk.”
“At this point, our biggest priority is staying ahead of Zara until she calms down. We’re going to Anacostia.”
“What? Why?”
“To the only person who can protect us from Zara.”
“Danyael Sabre?” Rio asked.
“You’ve met him?”
“Hours ago. He’s on crutches. What can he do against Zara or against the triads?”
Cixi shifted against his back. Her silence was more telling than her answer. “More than you think.”
Chapter 9
They did not speak to each other during that twenty-minute ride to Anacostia. It was probably a mistake, Cixi decided. Rio was the silent, brooding type whose anger deepened instead of exploded. If only he would throw a tantrum, everything might be all right. Instead, he simmered, his resentment thickening until he practically choked on it.
Hadn’t he smoldered over it for eighteen months after she had taken his diamond and left without a word? He had been so angry, so resentful, he had set out to punish and humiliate her. That it hadn’t quite worked out was entirely due to her perverse nature. How could he have known that her need to surrender physically, mentally, and emotionally had been pent-up for so long? How could he have known that she felt safe enough with him—despite his anger and resentment—to let him take her any way he wanted?
The streets of Anacostia were largely deserted by the time they arrived. Cixi gave Rio directions to a dilapidated walk-up apartment a few blocks from the clinic.
Rio wore a faint frown as he followed Cixi up the stairs. “But Danyael’s a doctor.”
“So?”
“He lives here?”
“It’s close enough to walk to work.”
“Yes, but…he’s on crutches.” Rio looked down at the steps, the stairwell dimly lit by naked bulbs at irregular intervals. “He does four flights on crutches?”
“Five,” Cixi corrected. “We’ve got one more to go.”
She stopped in front of a door and rapped briskly.
There was no answer.
“Maybe you should have called ahead,” Rio said.
Cixi shrugged. “He’s on crutches, as you’ve said. It takes a little time for him to get moving.” Instead of knocking again, she waited patiently until the door opened.
Danyael’s startled expression relaxed into a warm smile. “Xiao mei.”
Little sister. Somehow, hearing those words from Danyael’s lips purged the disgust of hearing those same words from Guan Yu’s mouth. Cixi walked into Danyael’s extended right arm. “Da ge.”
Big brother.
She hugged Danyael, the stress locked in her shoulders slowly melting away until, for the first time in hours, she inhaled what felt like her first clean breath. He had that effect on people; it was all part of what made him special, different—and the perfect foil for Zara.
“It’s been a long time,” Danyael said as he welcomed her and Rio into his one-bedroom apartment. “How have you been?”
“I’m not entirely sure. That’s what I’m here to sort out.”
Danyael glanced at Rio. “At least someone cares a great deal about what happens to you.”
Rio glowered.
Cixi rolled her eyes. “I think we’re still sorting out the nuances of who needs to forgive whom.”
“In my experience, forgiveness is mutual, but I still don’t understand why you’re here for a heart-to-heart chat. I don’t do counseling. I’ve barely got my own life together.”
She inhaled sharply. “Zara’s furious. A job we’d planned and set up for eighteen months went to hell. She didn’t get what she wanted.”
“Is she all right?”
Cixi nodded. “But upset, and that’s a bit of an understatement. I thought it would safer to lie low until she’s had a chance to calm down.”
Danyael’s eyes narrowed. “So you decided to come here?” He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t want to get involved in this.”
Rio spoke up for the first time. “This?”
“What Zara does for a living. Don’t tell me what you were up to. I don’t want or need to know the details.” A muscle twitched in Danyael’s smooth cheek. “Give me a few minutes to change the sheets.” He hobbled into his bedroom.
Rio turned to Cixi. “Just like that? Open arms, a bed for the night, and no questions asked.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“What did he call you?”
“Xiao mei. Little sister.”
“And da ge means…?”
“Big brother.”
“You’re not—”
“Related? No. I met him through Zara, and we hit it off immediately. Family—sometimes you just know it.”
“Do I?” Rio’s voice vibrated with suppressed anger. “I know nothing about you.”
“And you told me nothing about you either, Mr. DEA.”
Danyael appeared at the doorway of his bedroom with a pillow and a sheet in his hand. “The room’s ready. Try to keep your voices down, will you? The apartment on the other side is empty, but sound carries further than you think.” He limped wearily to the ratty couch in the living room.
Cixi frowned. “Are you going to be okay here?”
He nodded. “I’ll be all right, and you two need to talk.”
The bedroom Danyael had vacated for her and Rio was a tiny space taken up by a double bed and a bookshelf that doubled as a closet. All of Danyael’s personal possessions would fit into a large duffle bag, yet he never seemed to notice the lack of anything, unlike Zara who was always striving for something.
Somehow, Cixi didn’t think Danyael had it any easier than Zara, though. He looked far more tired than when she had seen him last, his crippled steps slower, dragged down by bone-deep exhaustion and constant pain. He had smiled when he had seen her and welcomed her with genuine warmth, but when the first burst of delight faded, she knew that he was fading too, physically, if not emotionally.
Cixi swallowed hard through the lump in her throat. Zara probably sees it too. No wonder she’s been so snappy and irritable lately. I would be too if I had Danyael’s health always on my mind.
And now it’s gone to hell. Eighteen months wasted.
She shrugged off her jacket and kicked off her boots before setting her two pocket-sized handguns on the bedside table. She turned; Rio was staring at the guns as if they were oversized arachnids.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“I work for Zara.”
“You’re a mercenary?”
She scowled. “I’m an employee. I was working that night when we first met—the day of your brother’s funeral.”
“So it was a set up?”
Cixi resisted the urge to fling a pillow at his head. “No, not everything’s about you. I was tracking down a
fugitive when I decided to take time off to have a cup of coffee with you. You kept coming back, looking for me, so I continued to hang out at the corner even after the fugitive was found. When you asked me to move in with you and follow you to Key West, it seemed like the right time for the right move in my life.”
“And you had no clue who I was? That’s bullshit. Zara rubs shoulders with millionaires and billionaires. How could you not have known?”
“Because I was tired of that life! I was tired of knowing too much, knowing everything. For once, I wanted to learn things without a debriefing package. When I told Zara I was leaving the agency for you, she asked if I wanted to get the low down on you. I said no.” Cixi glowered at Rio. “In hindsight, that was probably a mistake. Zara would have dug up all the dirt on you.”
“What dirt? That I’m rich or that I work for the DEA?”
“Both.”
“You noticed it anyway, but you thought I was trafficking drugs instead of trying to stop it.”
“I watch. I observe. It’s my training, my strength; I can’t escape it. And you weren’t trying to stop anything.”
“My reports reduced the volume of drugs into the U.S.”
“And thanks to the mole inside the DEA, brought you back to the attention of the triad. How was that helpful?”
“We all take risks for our job.”
“Or for love.”
“What?”
Cixi turned her back on him. It was easier to speak the truth to the wall; she had always been a bit of a coward that way. “I couldn’t do anything for you. My being with you wasn’t helping you recover from your brother’s death. You were stuck, spinning your wheels. Maybe you loved me, but not enough. There was always a barrier of grief I couldn’t get past. When you were away in New York City, Zara came to see me. She needed me on a long-term undercover project, one that would require extensive plastic surgery. She needed me to go undercover with the Jade Dragons and track down some stolen goods. I said no, of course. I had a life with you, even it if wasn’t exactly where I wanted it to be. But then she told me that the triad was responsible for the distribution of X2, which killed your brother.”
“Did you know then that he didn’t just die of an accidental overdose, but that he was murdered?”
“No, not until tonight. No one knew of my prior relationship with you until that night of the auction at the Fire Opal. My cover was perfectly intact.”
“Your cover as Shen Long’s daughter? But how did you even—”
“One of Shen Long’s girlfriends had fled with their daughter and done everything to keep her from him. They were both killed in a car accident, however, and Zara saw a chance to substitute me for her, and to send her back into the arms of her estranged family, now that she was all alone. The plastic surgery allowed me to look like her.”
“And the money laundering for the triad?”
“Allowed me access to bank accounts and other business information, including shipping records. The one thing that eluded us, however, was the information on that non-networked computer. That’s what Zara went in to find.”
“You left the bathroom window open for her.”
“Of course.”
“And the diamonds?”
“If you heard part of the conversation, you probably heard most of it. Guan Yu wanted them.”
Rio’s voice cracked slightly. “I would have given them to you, if you’d asked.”
She turned to face him. “I couldn’t have promised to bring them back safely.”
“A gift, not a loan.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. He’s got them now.”
“Who?”
“Shen Long.”
“Oh!” She burst out laughing. “I didn’t give him the diamonds.”
Rio’s eyebrows drew together. “What?”
“He doesn’t have the real diamonds. I gave him the paste jewelry pieces that Zara had one of her not-so-legal friends cobble together.”
“You gave him what?”
Cixi sighed. “Guan Yu wanted the diamonds. He threatened to hurt you unless I stole them from you.”
“Which you did. The diamonds aren’t in the safe. When did you get them?”
“Before I left in the morning, while you were in the shower.”
“And the lock?”
She gave him an exasperated look. “You already know I work for Zara and that I can shoot straighter than most trained snipers, and you’re asking me why a lock on a personal safe couldn’t stop me? If you assume I have a host of unsavory skills, most of which I picked up personally from Zara, we can continue this conversation without too many interruptions.”
For a moment, he stared at her like a poleaxed calf, and then he burst out laughing. “I’ve never seen this side of you. You were sweet, funny, and kind, but you’ve got an edge and a mouth.”
“Stop looking at me like it’s a turn on.”
He shrugged, but the smile lingered on his face.
She glowered at him.
He looked even more amused, but held up his hands as if in surrender. “So, where are the diamonds?”
“I gave them to Zara for safekeeping.”
“Zara… At the Italian restaurant?”
“You were watching?”
“The DEA got footage of it. When you met Zara, they figured something was up between the South American cartels and the triads in New York City.”
“Something was up, just not what you thought. I decided it was time to move in before Guan Yu’s increasing pushiness blew my cover.”
“Pushiness?” Rio’s eyes narrowed. “Did he…rape you?”
“Of course not, although he was clear what he wanted from me. Eventually, it would have come to a head and someone would have gotten hurt.”
“Him or you?”
Cixi bit her lip. “I don’t know. Zara would have kicked his ass twenty different ways through Sunday, but I don’t have her training or her instincts. I can probably shoot faster and straighter than he can, but in a physical fight? He’s bigger, stronger—I don’t know.”
“Then let’s make sure we never have to find out.” He shook his head. “You took a risk with the diamonds. What if Shen Long could tell the difference?”
“It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to hand your diamonds over to him.”
“I was prepared to.”
She stiffened. Rio had grabbed her hand instead of the diamonds.
He had chosen her—despite the damning conversation he had overheard. He had chosen her—the woman who he thought had stolen from him and betrayed him—instead of the precious stones that were rightly his. Her voice trembled. “Why?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “If you have to ask, then I’ve obviously failed to tell you how much I loved you. How much I still love you. I’m sorry you ever believed you didn’t mean enough to me that I wouldn’t care if you left. I’m sorry you thought it was somehow your job to avenge my brother’s death, because it was the only thing that would make me happy again. It’s not. You made me happy, and I didn’t realize how much until you left.”
“You expect me to believe that? Words are cheap. Actions matter.”
“Actions matter, but the impressions and the truth matter too. The hurt doesn’t magically go away just because you realize you didn’t have all the facts.” He paced the room. “I spent eighteen months transitioning from furious to hurt—deeply hurt—after you stole that diamond. I hit what I thought was rock bottom. Then I learned you didn’t really know what it was worth, and you convinced me the love was still there. I shot up high on the happiness scale. I thought we might have a future again. I went to the DEA’s office to quit my job—”
“You did what?”
“I went in this morning to tell them I was done. I had a future to look forward to, and a woman I wanted to spend it with. But they told me you were money laundering for the triads and that the triads were distributing X2 and X-treme. I plummeted on the happiness scale, but tr
ied to convince myself that you were an unwitting puppet somehow being used by the triads. But at Shen Long’s home, I overhear a conversation that taught me I had no idea what the bottom was—I hadn’t even come close. You were a manipulator, a snake. You’d even deceived your brother. You were everything the DEA said you were, and worse. You weren’t an unwitting front for the triad; you were climbing its ladder, setting yourself up to be the heir.” He pressed his fist against his chest, as if he could still feel the echo of devastating pain.
“So why did you try to save me instead of just taking what was rightly yours and running for it?”
“Because the truth doesn’t change emotions either—at least not immediately. Love can erode over time, but it doesn’t vanish, not in an instant, not for me. It didn’t change what I felt for you, what I still feel for you. And now, learning that you’re not working for the triad, but for Zara, and that you infiltrated the triad—did something the DEA hasn’t been able to pull off—and yes, you did it because Zara asked, but you did it for me—because you thought it was the only way to make me happy and you loved me enough to take on that risk…” He expelled his breath in a sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know what to feel; I don’t know how to feel. Happy that I was wrong about you? Upset that you’ve been lying to me even after last night, when you swore you were telling the truth? Ecstatic that you loved me that much. Guilt-ridden that I somehow drove you to it by not loving you enough. You tell me. What should I feel? And how long before the next bombshell twists the truth again?”
“I have told you the truth!”
“That’s what you said last night. That was three truths ago. How will I ever know?”
“Ask Zara.”
“Zara’s not exactly the most compelling source of truth. Her whole life is a lie. On the surface, she’s a ditzy socialite. In truth, she’s a mercenary who cheats to stay in practice and kills for a living. Not credible.”
“Then what do you want? A sworn affidavit before a judge? It’s not happening. This is me, Rio.”
“And that’s the other thing. You’re not the person I thought you were—the sweet, funny girl who sells wilting flowers and cheap candy for a living.”