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The Protector: The Complete C.I.A. Romance Series

Page 36

by Lilian Monroe


  “Who the fuck are you?” Kowalski asked, trying to look tough. I could see the fear in his eyes. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and outsmarted.

  “You don’t know us,” the man said. “But you know our friend. Mickey Crawford—remember him?”

  Kowalski’s eyes widened and then I understood.

  Dockworkers.

  These men worked at the shipyard with Mickey. They were like family to him—he worked with them, drank with them, laughed with them.

  And then I remembered Gramps’ phone call when I’d been struggling to get Tomas into the wheelchair. Did he…?

  I turned to Gramps. “Did you plan this?”

  Gramps just grinned. “Never go into a situation like this without backup, Cat. It’s a good thing Mickey has friends.”

  My jaw dropped. We’d all been outsmarted by an octogenarian. Kowalski looked like he was about to blow a gasket. He sputtered, and a dockworker took a step forward, lifting a gun up to Kowalski’s head. Kowalski’s whole face turned red and he pointed at my grandfather.

  “You’d defend him? Nowak the Rat? You would choose to defend the man who sold out his brothers and killed my sister?!”

  I inhaled sharply as all eyes turned to my grandfather. Killed his sister?! My heart started thumping and once again, I wondered who my grandfather really was.

  Gramps just took a deep breath. He shook his head. “Tony, you idiot,” he breathed. “Yes, I ratted on you, but I didn’t kill your sister.”

  Kowalski frowned. “You’re lying.”

  No one else spoke. There were at least thirty men around us, and all eyes were on Kowalski and my grandfather. Whatever happened between them had happened over sixty years ago, but the emotions were still raw. We could all feel it. The air was thick with tension and the only sound was the far-away noise of a crane and seagulls squawking in the distance.

  Gramps reached a shaking hand into his pocket and everyone stiffened. He chuckled, raising his other hand as he reached in to pull out his wallet. He flipped it open and pulled out a worn old photo that had been in his pocket for decades.

  I’d seen that photo countless times in my life. It was Gramps’ most prized possession.

  “Tony,” he said quietly. “I didn’t kill your sister. I married her.”

  He extended his wedding photo toward Kowalski, who stared at him like he had four heads. He opened his mouth and closed it again, then snatched the picture from my grandfather. With trembling hands, he brought the picture up to his face.

  Tears filled his eyes as his mouth dropped open. His eyebrows arched and he touched the photo gently, flicking his eyes back up to Gramps.

  “What… how… you’re lying. This isn’t real. This is a trick.”

  Gramps sighed. “Tony, you can be mad at me for ratting you out. I did it, and I would do it again. The Feds offered me a deal and a new identity for me and Julia if I told them everything I knew. The alternative was spending life in prison. Julia… she asked me to take the deal. I loved her, Tony. We made a life together.” Gramps pointed to me. “This is your niece.”

  Tony’s eyes swung over to me as my jaw dropped to the ground. I closed my mouth again and tried to swallow, but it had gone completely dry. My tongue felt like it was four sizes too big for my mouth. My eyes bugged out as I glanced at Gramps and then at Tony Kowalski.

  Then, it started to make sense. The familiarity I’d felt when Tony first showed up in my office clicked into place. The nose, the cheeks—he was the spitting image of my mother.

  My heart thumped.

  Tony stared.

  Gramps sighed. “I loved Julia more than anything else in this world,” he said quietly. “I would never hurt her.”

  Tony Kowalski tried to say something, but all he could do was frown. He stared at the photo of my grandfather and grandmother, still searching for words. Then, he handed the picture back to Gramps and hung his head.

  “It’s over, Tony,” Gramps said quietly. “Leave these people alone.”

  Kowalski dragged his eyes up to mine, and then he did the last thing I ever expected. He started crying. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at me, his shoulders shaking and his breath trembling. All his men shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, and he finally nodded. He waved us away.

  Gramps took a deep breath and wrapped his frail arms around me. He patted my back as he hugged me.

  “I love you, Kitty Cat,” he said. “Thank you for giving me a bit of excitement in my old age.”

  I laugh-snorted and squeezed him close. “I could do without so much excitement.”

  My grandfather pulled away and hugged my shoulders. “Maribel will drive me home. I’m tired. You go get these boys cleaned up.” He patted my arm and I helped him into Maribel’s car. She helped him buckle his seatbelt and gave me a tentative smile, and the light in his eyes dimmed again. I could feel the tiredness taking its hold on him, and he was slipping away. I wondered if he would remember what happened today when he got back to his room.

  I gave my grandfather one last kiss on the cheek, then I closed the door and watched them drive away.

  The rest of us were still standing in awkward tension. I wanted to leave. Bennett took a step toward my Volkswagen and then turned toward Tony… toward my uncle.

  “Hey, Kowalski,” he called out. The Polish man looked as if he was being pulled out of deep thought. He stared at Bennett.

  “What?”

  “There never were any Russians, were there?”

  Kowalski frowned. “Russians? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Blanchet told me Russians wanted to kill me.”

  Kowalski snorted. “No Russians. Just Blanchet.”

  “Blanchet was behind this?”

  “Made contact with one of my men on the inside. He wanted you dead.”

  “Blanchet wanted me dead?”

  Kowalski bristled. “Did I stutter? Yes, Blanchet wanted you dead. And if you don’t leave now, he’ll get what he wants.”

  The dockworkers mumbled and Kowalski raised his arms up to diffuse some tension. Bennett was still frowning and I tugged at his sleeve.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  He let me lead him to the car. I ungagged Finch—who I’d known as Agent O’Neill—and put him in the backseat. Bennett got in the front and I got behind the wheel. We drove off, and I glanced in the rear-view mirror at the two dozen men facing off between the shipping containers.

  “What’s going to happen to them now?”

  “I’m not sure,” Bennett said with a sigh. He glanced back toward the men. “Looks like Mickey’s friends want some revenge.”

  I shivered, not wanting to be there to witness it. I’d seen more than enough violence and bloodshed for one lifetime. I turned a corner and left them behind me, putting a hand on Bennett’s thigh. I wanted to put as much distance between me and the docks as I could. I drove until we were halfway across the city before pulling over and helping both Finch and Bennett untie their bonds. They flexed their hands and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Bennett turned to me, eyes shining, and stroked my face with the back of his fingers. I leaned into his touch as my heart thumped for him, and then I took a deep breath.

  “I’m in love with you, Cat,” he said quietly.

  My eyes fluttered open and I stared at him. “What?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry. I know it’s been a big day. You don’t have to say it back.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips, and then flinched. His lip split open again and a trickle of blood slid down his chin. Wiping it with his sleeve, he smiled at me.

  “Kissing you seems to be dangerous for my health. This is becoming a bit too common,” he said. I blushed at the thought of the first time we slept together. Finch was in the car with us, sitting quietly as he massaged his hands.

  Then, my shoulders dropped and I laughed. I stared at Bennett’s bruised, bloody face and I took a deep breath. He squeezed my hand
and leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes. With his fingers still intertwined in mine, I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed him gently.

  My heart felt full. My grandfather was okay, Mickey was recovering, and this mess with Kowalski was over. But what I realized in that moment was that my life wasn’t complete without Bennett beside me. Knowing he was being held hostage was one of the most difficult things I had ever heard. Having him beside me again made me feel whole.

  It didn’t matter if I got sick like my mother and grandfather. It didn’t matter if he would see it. I now knew that whatever we had to face, he would be by my side. We were stronger together than we were alone, and today had been proof of that.

  He wanted to be here with me, and I wanted to be here with him. He’d been stabbed, beaten, threatened, kidnapped… and at the end of the day, he still loved me.

  As I held his hand, parked on the side of the road, with blood trickling from his lip and bruises all over his body, I knew that I’d fallen in love with him, too.

  I kissed his fingers again and turned back toward the road with a deep breath.

  “Let’s get you guys to your second home.”

  “Where’s that?” Bennett asked, opening his eyes to glance at me.

  I grinned. “The hospital.”

  Epilogue

  Chris

  When I was discharged from the hospital, Cat took me home. She took another week off work and we spent it together. She told me about her childhood, about her mother and father, her grandfather, about the dementia in her family.

  I could tell it was difficult for her to talk about her family’s illnesses, and I laid quietly in bed beside her as she opened up to me. I didn’t know what to say, so I just held her. She shed a couple tears but quickly wiped them away and lifted herself up to look at my face.

  “I think I was wrong about the whole ‘wanting to be alone’ thing.”

  A smile twitched across my lips. “I think you were wrong, too.”

  She chuckled, trailing her fingers across my chest. I caught her fingers and kissed them gently, holding her gaze. Her eyes were bright blue today, clearer than they’d been in weeks. All the fear and worry had been wiped away.

  Cat took a deep breath. “Bennett—Chris—I… I think I’m falling for you.” A blush warmed her cheeks and she glanced at me through her lashes, as if she was embarrassed to say it.

  I cupped her cheek with my hand as my heart swelled in my chest. I smiled, splitting the scab on my lip open again.

  It didn’t matter, though. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a happy sigh.

  “We’re better together.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “We’re better together.”

  By the end of the week, I’d told her everything there was to tell about me. It felt so good to be open with her. I’d hated lying to her about who I was from the very first day and telling her the truth was the worst and best moment of my life. I told her everything about Bella and her betrayal in excruciating detail.

  It wasn’t lost on me that I’d done something similar to Cat—betrayed her trust, told her I was someone I wasn’t. But unlike me, Cat forgave me. In the blink of an eye, my lies were forgotten and she accepted me for who I was. The jagged edges of our aching hearts fit together perfectly.

  We were made for each other.

  I tried to visit Nathan Blanchet in prison again but was told his visitation privileges had been revoked. It took me a couple weeks, and more than a few favors called in to find out that he’d been put in solitary confinement for his own protection. He was transferred to a supermax facility in Colorado shortly afterwards.

  It kept niggling at me, though. Why had Nathan Blanchet wanted me dead?

  It was Sadie, his daughter, who found out. I explained the whole ordeal to Zane and Sadie when I told them it was safe to come back. Sadie travelled out to Colorado a couple weeks later to make her peace with him—or to say goodbye. I wasn’t sure which.

  Zane and Sadie invited Cat and I over for dinner when she got back, and Sadie told me what her father had said. She looked at me with deep sadness in her eyes as we sat in their living room after dinner.

  “He wanted to kill you,” she said slowly, glancing from me to Zane. “He wanted to hurt Zane without hurting me, and he figured you were the best target.”

  I frowned. “He put a hit out on me to get to Zane?”

  She nodded. “For ruining his career. Zane’s family is all gone, so you were all he had left. He knew that going after Zane directly would kill me.”

  “So Kowalski was telling the truth? There were never any Russians involved in any of this?”

  Zane shook his head. “The Russians have gone to ground. This was Blanchet acting alone.”

  Cat slid her hand over my thigh and took a deep breath. She turned to Sadie. “Did your father tell you how he engaged Kowalski? How did he know about me and my grandfather?”

  “Actually,” I said. “I think I figured that out.”

  I grabbed my phone and pulled up some files that Gary had found for me. “Looks like Blanchet had contacts with the Polish mob from his days as a crooked Senator. One of Kowalski’s cousins was in the D.C. Jail at the same time as Blanchet. We think he made contact from inside.”

  “But how did he know about me? About my grandfather?” Cat frowned.

  “That was my father,” Sadie said. “He told me that he knew all about you—even where your grandfather lives. I guess he was bitter about being replaced and did his homework on you. He still has contacts all over D.C. and knowing that Chris would be assigned to your case was probably just a lucky guess.”

  Cat sighed. “So, you think Blanchet orchestrated this whole thing, and Kowalski got lucky that I happened to be Shorty Nowak’s granddaughter?”

  “Don’t know if lucky is the right word, but yeah.” I said, glancing at Cat. She looked devastated. I had been the target, but she and her grandfather had been the bait. It was seven shades of fucked up, and she didn’t look like she was handling it well.

  “I’m just glad your grandfather is okay,” Sadie said. The two women exchanged a loaded look. They’d both lost so much but had come out stronger than before. I put my arm around Cat and kissed her temple. She sighed, leaning into me.

  The four of us sat in silence for a while until Sadie took a deep breath and stood up. “Anyone want dessert? I made brownies.”

  She didn’t wait for a response, reappearing with a plate of brownies and a fresh bottle of wine. Cat shook the tension from her shoulders and looked at me. She smiled shyly, and then said the three words I’d been dying to hear for weeks—three words that I knew were on the tip of her tongue, but they were too difficult to say until the dust had settled on all this.

  “I love you.” Her cheeks flushed pink as my heart soared. I kissed her softly and leaned my forehead against hers.

  “I love you too, Cat.”

  “I think if we can get through this together, we can get through anything,” she said softly, and I knew what she meant. We could get through betrayal, we could get through illness, we could get through hardship because we had each other.

  The past was the past, and the future was bright. The future was something to look forward to, whatever it was, because I knew it would be with her.

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  xox Lilian

  His Word

  Book 3

  1

  Hailey

  Of course I was late.

  I checked the time on my phone and glanced out of the taxi window, biting my lower lip. The Russo Art Gallery was still at least ten minutes away, and the exhibition had already started.

  The biggest night of my life, and I couldn’t even manage to be on ti
me for it. No matter how hard I tried, clocks always seemed to work differently for me. Little gremlins lived inside the gears and made time run faster when I wasn’t expecting it.

  Well, that was the only logical explanation I could come up with.

  I could play it off as the ‘fashionably late artist’. Maybe I could tell Gianni that I was late on purpose because I wanted to make an entrance. He was Italian, after all. He’d understand theatrics.

  My leg bounced up and down as the taxi came to a stop at a red light. I swallowed, trying to push down my frustration. It was no use being mad at the taxi driver—this was my own fault.

  Today was the first day that my art would be showcased in a gallery. Not only that, Gianni Russo had agreed to feature me—me, of all people—at the biggest gallery event in Washington D.C.

  Butterflies crashed around my stomach as the taxi drove on, and I gulped down a lungful of air. It was a beautiful Saturday evening, warm for September, and the city was alive and buzzing with energy that only served to make me more nervous.

  I’d planned on getting to the gallery early, before the crowds arrived. I’d planned on hanging back and observing from some dark corner as people commented on my pieces—maybe even hiding in my studio at the back of the building. But now, I’d be making a grand entrance as if I were some sort of celebrity. Everybody would see me come in, and I’m sure Gianni would make a big deal of introducing me to D.C.’s social elite.

  I’d be the center of attention the instant I walked in.

  Also known as my worst nightmare.

  I needed to find a way to be on time to these things. Maybe I could set all my clocks fifteen minutes ahead. I sighed, gripping the silky fabric of my dress and smoothing it out again. Changing the clocks never worked, because somehow, I’d then just take fifteen extra minutes to do everything.

 

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