Accidental Rebel: A Marriage Mistake Romance

by Snow, Nicole

What the hell is that anymore?

  I wonder when my phone vibrates sharply in my pocket. I yank it out and read the text message. It’s from J.T.’s burner.

  Manny Stork will survive. Just gave his statement to the cops.

  Goddamn, that’s good news. Hard to believe I’d ever wanted to wring his neck.

  Another wave of gratefulness and guilt mingles, washing over me like a tsunami. Manny the Idiot may have deserved to pay the toll for his greed, but not like this. Not because of me.

  This shit has to stop.

  Another text message comes through then.

  Eagle in place. He’ll text as needed.

  A picture comes in attached to it. A man in his thirties or so. Built. Blond hair. Blue eyes.

  J.T. Riggs doesn’t leave any open ends, that’s for damn sure. Eagle’s the lookout he said he’d send to guard the cabin, a local guy, someone to help keep an eye on things since J.T. himself can’t be here constantly and sooner or later, I have to sleep.

  Confirmed, I type back and hit send, then walk back to the cabin.

  “Dad,” Shane says as I step inside. “Did you know that May owns this entire lake?”

  “Oh, no, even she’s not that rich!” Gwen corrects him while folding up a paper bag. “She owns the only private property on this stretch for many miles. Everything else around here is state-owned, wildlife reserves and parks under special protection.

  “You come up here a lot?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head, that red bun on her head bouncing. “A few times last summer. Mother just bought it the winter before. We’d rented it a few times years ago. Thought it’d be another great investment, plus somewhere she could go to story jam with all her author friends.” Her grin widens, those perfect teeth doing terrible things to me. “That’s what she said, anyway, but I know the real reason. She wrote a story last year where the couple lives off the grid and needed to research firsthand exactly what that meant.”

  I nod, fully believing it. This place isn’t roughing it by any stretch, but it’s a nice taste of the North woods and a lifestyle with a nod to Paul Bunyan legends.

  Gwen puts the bag in a drawer and closes it. “If Mother ever starts writing sci-fi, I’m leaving the country.”

  Can’t help chuckling at that.

  Remembering the story of hers I read, I say, “Your ma packed your computer and notebook.”

  “I saw!” She gives me a coy look. “You didn’t tell her about it, did you?”

  “Your story?” I shake my head. “There wasn’t time. We had to get in and get out.”

  “I did.” Lauren stows the broom she’d been using in a tiny closet next to the back door. “When we were at her house, yesterday, swimming. I told her about mine, too.”

  Gwen manages a smile. “Well, I bet she was happy to hear about yours.”

  Lauren nods excitedly. “She promised she’d have her editor and agent look it over when I’m done! It might make a good kids’ book.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Shane says from where he’s standing in the middle of the living room area. “There’s no TV?”

  “No, bud, not here,” I say. “You’ll survive.”

  “Can I go check out the lake? There’s a dock.” Shane hops from foot to foot, realizing he’d better get his entertainment in during the daylight with nothing to watch.

  I’ve already checked out the dock. It’s secure, visible from the kitchen window. “Go on. Just don’t start swimming unless I say okay.”

  Shane waves a hand and runs for the door. “Come on, Lauren!”

  My little girl glances at me with an uncertain look. Although I tried my best to keep things calm this morning, she was scared. Still is, I guess, and who could blame her?

  “How about we all go check out the lake?” Gwen asks, sensing the hesitation.

  I hold a hand out for Lauren. “Great idea.”

  She grabs my hand, and once we’re outside, she takes a hold of Gwen’s hand with her other hand. We head all the way to the dock like that before she lets go.

  Once we’re walking on the wooden dock, she’s good again. Kicking off her sandals to wade in the shallow water next to it, she hugs her shoulders, shivering a little from the cold.

  These lakes are colder than we’re used to back home. Brutal seven month winters mean they can take their sweet time to truly warm up for summer.

  “Heard about Manny. He’ll be fine,” I tell Gwen as we both sit down on a log bench built near the shoreline.

  Her hand flutters over her chest, relief hissing out her lungs. “Oh, thank God. You heard from J.T. then?”

  “Yeah. He’s got everything set for us. No more loose ends we should have to worry over.”

  “Hey, Gwen!” Shane points across the lake. “What’s that out there? See that thing in the middle of the water, between here and that island?”

  “That’s a big ol’ pontoon boat,” she says with a laugh. “It came with the house...sort of. It floated away from the dock not long before Mother bought the place, and the previous owner just never bothered going after it. I think it’s caught, resting on a rock or something.”

  “We should do that!” Shane jumps up and down for a better look. “Guys, it’s just sitting there. We could swim out and get it.”

  “There’s no motor,” Gwen tells him. “Bringing it back here might be difficult with just a couple oars.”

  Shane slaps his thighs. “Aw, shucks.”

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  “Because I swam out to it once,” she answers. “It’s in okay shape, despite having floated around for a few years. But I don’t think we can row that thing back ourselves; we’d probably need another boat to tow it in.”

  I nod, watching the kids as they forget about the marooned boat for now and chase each other around the dock.

  “Does he know anything else?” Gwen pushes her hand into mine. “Does J.T. know if they caught Jackie Wren or if there’s even a chance they might?”

  “No. He didn’t say anything about that. Bet he lost sight of her after this morning.”

  Jackie doesn’t hire morons. Whoever she’s got on payroll for cleanup duty, they’re very good at concealment, making things disappear. Including themselves.

  She stares at the children playing in the shallow water for a few minutes before asking, “So, what? We just sit here and wait?”

  I can feel her frustration intently because I share it. I hate this cat and mouse shit, playing hunter or hunted.

  “Not completely. J.T. has all his connections working. They’re trying to sniff out a viable way for me to upload the info Keith and I gathered.”

  I bite back a growl forming in my throat as my mind goes back in time to Jackie’s office.

  Keith and I were called in for a special briefing with upper management. We should’ve known then we were screwed, but I didn’t know how far they’d go to cover their tracks.

  We’d been careful, but someone caught wind of our undercover raids, tapping the company’s logistic networks for data.

  She didn’t waste any time or mince words.

  * * *

  Weeks Ago

  “How much, Miller?” She’d asked the question from behind her glass desk as soon as we entered the office and sat down.

  It started out all smiles, as if this were some mishap over Shane throwing a damn baseball through her window.

  I’d never even met her before, but I’d seen her icy profile pic in all the company-wide memos.

  Some people don’t look like their pictures. They’re more flawed and more real in subtle ways when you finally see them up close.

  If anything, Jackie Wren looks more mannequin perfect in the flesh. Her jet black hair pulled up in a bob on her head that’s just a little too neat. Her lips too blood red. Her smile too contrived.

  We had one option: play stupid.

  She didn’t buy it. But rather than make threats, she offered us jobs.

  Different jobs. Inside jobs. Hi
gher paying jobs.

  It was a textbook case of keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

  Her offer was something we knew we couldn’t agree to. Not if we wanted to keep our souls.

  How much? She asked the same hellish question three times before the smiles disappeared. And no amount of babbling or shrugging or pretending we had no fucking clue what she meant could help us.

  Then the other men came into the room and locked the door behind them.

  Then she stood up, giving me a look like she was ready to send her five-thousand-dollar stiletto heels straight through my balls.

  Then I knew how utterly screwed we were, watching Keith suffer.

  * * *

  Present

  “There’s more that I haven’t told you,” I say, a heavy sigh on my lips. I watch the kids on the horizon to make sure they’re seen but can’t hear us.

  “Yeah?” she answers dryly, squeezing my hand.

  I swallow against the fresh bile burning my esophagus. If I get out of this without having acid reflux for life, it’ll be a damn miracle.

  “My signature is on some of those shipping receipts back at Mederva,” I say. “Even after I knew those containers had anything but experimental stuff.”

  Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. “You mean you signed for—” She shakes her head. “Why?”

  “There was something we were missing, babe. Something that kept us awake all night, something we couldn’t figure out, something damning that might end all this, and digging deep into the muck was the only way.”

  “What?” she whispers. Her posture tells me she’s breathless. “Miller?”

  “Jackie’s connection. We had to find out who helped mastermind these shipments. Who sourced those poor kids.”

  “And did you?” her hand tightens on mine.

  I nod. “Being on the inside gave us pictures, videos, audio recordings of a late night meeting with Jackie and an off-record visitor who helps orchestrate this bullshit. Publicly, they’re a major investor in the research firms profiting off death.”

  “The mastermind?” she asks. “Who is it?”

  I shake my head. “Can’t tell you. You’d flip.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this person announced their run for U.S. Senate the day after we found out.”

  I won’t tell her it’s the new fuck from Oregon. He’s a shoe-in to replace Senator Paul Harris, who announced his retirement last year after coming clean about helping bring down a major weapons smuggling trade thanks to Enguard Security, one of the premier west coast security firms.

  We almost reached out to Enguard chief Landon Strauss over this, but there wasn’t time.

  When Keith and I realized how deep the sewer we’d uncovered ran, and how our only hope was exposing the entire dungheap at once, we knew we had to keep this tight and act alone.

  Otherwise, the true criminals would never go down.

  “You’re a brave man, Miller,” Gwen whispers. I can hear how hard she swallows. “God, if it were me, I don’t think I could handle this. Like I’d be tunneling my way across the Canadian border right now, or something...”

  “You’re plenty brave, Gingersnap. Give yourself more credit.”

  I mean it, too. I also hope she’s even braver than I think. Because she’s in this now, same as me, same as the kids and her ma. She’s in this till we can keep Jackie Wren and all her filthy friends locked away forever.

  I stare at the lake as my mind drifts back in time again. To Keith, forming plans to get what we knew into the right hands. We’d both liquidated everything we owned, started to think about places we could go, but we didn’t think we’d have to pull the pin so fast.

  Not till that day in the office.

  * * *

  Weeks Ago

  My lungs seize up as we’re surrounded.

  Is this shit even happening?

  A hostile takeover, a mafia-esque shakedown, right here in the office of one of the most powerful CEOs in the country?

  Oh, there’s no doubt what the intention is. The sleek-dressed men in ties, all wearing earpieces, are modern secret service knights. Or inquisitors.

  There are six of them. Three on Keith, three on me.

  “I gave you the opportunity,” Jackie says, her crimson lips pulling to the side sourly. “One that could’ve been incredibly rewarding and ideal for everyone.”

  Neither Keith or I say anything. One of the goons inhales a breath, like he’s gearing up for something.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find out about you cashing in your company shares?” she asks.

  I bite my tongue. That was the one thing we’d both questioned; too much, too soon. Would it flag us?

  We’d needed the money to make our escapes, though. Fuck.

  Heather, Keith’s wife, is supposed to leave for Phoenix tomorrow where they’ll catch another plane to Ecuador. She’s supposed to take my kids to Phoenix, too, and I’ll meet them there to hop another long flight to New York, and then Ireland.

  Now it seems like we made a critical mistake we might never get a chance to fix.

  Their systems, their investigators, were just better than our plans.

  “Miller. One more time,” Jackie snaps, drumming her fingernails on the desk. They’re the same murder scene red as her mouth. “How much? How fucking much do I have to cough up to make you Boy Scouts behave and forget all this?”

  It’s not even a question.

  Even if I were that morally corrupt, if I could just forget about chopped-up kids being harvested, there’s no way she could be trusted to follow through. She’d probably have us shot and buried in the nearest unmarked graves before the checks cleared.

  I look at Keith. It’s only fair to give him a chance.

  He’s staring past Jackie, looking through the windows to the city, where the sun cuts through the spotty haze over Elliot Bay and the mountains beyond.

  It’s beautiful. Normal. Entirely Seattle.

  And it might as well be a thousand miles away from the brutal reality hanging over our heads.

  “Keith,” I grunt his name.

  He turns, wearing a deadpan look. First to me, then to bitchface herself.

  “Not for sale. Bite me.”

  Despite the madness, the fear, I grin. That’s the man I know, and if need be, I’m proud to die by his side.

  “Oh, really?” Her gaze snaps to me again. “How about you, Rush? Going to give me your cliché, tough-talking hero act, too? Such a shame. It isn’t even interesting anymore, you know. I’ve seen men like both of you break and scream like children.”

  My teeth grit together as those words echo in my brain. Like children.

  “Go back to hell, you fucking vampire,” I spit. “You won’t get away with this. Give me time. I’ll be the man to bring you down.”

  She snorts pure derision. “How ambitious. Enough talk. Gentleman, shall we?”

  She’s not talking to us anymore.

  One of the men moves like a gorilla, something heavy materializing in his hand. It’s a metal poker from the fireplace across the room, as huge as a tire iron.

  He slams it into Keith’s leg like he’s chopping wood. My anger flares at the sound of a bone snapping.

  Shit.

  SHIT.

  One of the men behind me moves, locking his hand on my throat. The fiery burn of adrenaline hits me like a drug as the goon takes another swing at Keith’s other leg.

  They push him to the floor. A second goon lands a kick to his ribs so hard I hear the sickening splinter.

  They’re going to kill him. Beat my best friend to death right in front of me, and then they’ll start on me.

  It’s too much. This is not how I’m dying and leaving my kids.

  I think the asshole behind me twitches at the visceral crack of Keith’s other leg busting apart.

  My turn. I break the hold the goon has on me, bash him in the gut, then plant an elbow in his throat.

  As he goes
down, I grab his gun.

  All hell breaks loose. I know they’ll shoot us both, riddle us with bullets, unless I do one thing.

  I swing the gun right at Jackie Wren’s scowling face. Her bitch mask breaks, and those dark-brown eyes of hers churn with fear.

  “One wrong move, and tomorrow the media gets one hell of an obituary. I will shoot her, you assholes. Back away from Keith. And me.”

  They stare at me icily, all six of them. Jackie’s nose twitches and she throws up her hands. “What are you waiting for? Do it!”

  The men obey.

  The standoff continues for thirty seconds, me swinging the gun by several degrees like a wild man, searching for some way out. I’m able to maneuver around her desk, where I grab her by the hair and push the barrel of the gun against her spine, wrapping one arm around her till it hurts.

  “You want to stay alive?” I growl.

  She nods frantically. I can’t even enjoy hearing her whimper.

  “Then listen, only gonna say this once. Your boys are going to pick up Keith, very carefully, and escort us over to your private elevator. I’ll wait for them to load him inside, then the three of us will have a nice, friendly ride down to the street. You yell, you scream, you scratch me, you try any shit, and bam!” I yell the last word in her ear, and she jumps. “Let us fucking go, and we’ll both settle this another day. Fair?”

  She nods again. Her men don’t need to be told twice.

  Two of them pick up Keith, careful not to mangle him more. He bites his hand to keep from screaming as they carry him to the executive elevator around the corner. I wait till he’s in before pulling Jackie with me, then stab the button to the bottom floor.

  None of the goons can follow.

  “You got your phone?” I growl at her again. She nods. “Call him an ambulance.”

  Done.

  The sirens are already flashing a minute after we’re downstairs, pulling up, and I give Jackie Wren another ferocious tug. It gets a few looks from people milling in the hall, low-ranking Mederva employees who probably wonder what I’m doing manhandling a woman worth a billion dollars.