Francisco has at least four more kids out there. Four more chances to raise a monster to take over when he dies.
"Why should anyone believe you?" I ask, fighting against the sharp edges of fear. "You already lied once and said Elijah Noel is Francisco's son. We both know that isn't true. Roman saw the DNA test, and DNA doesn't lie. Elijah Noel was your son."
"You should believe me because of Elijah," Remi says, pacing back and forth. "I was barely an adult when I found out I was going to be a father. I'd just been accepted into the Academy and didn't have a dime to my name. I couldn't afford to take care of myself, let alone a child."
"So you gave him up." I inch closer to the table while Remi is distracted, managing to get close enough to reach out and grab one of the guns. But I don't. Not yet.
"Yeah," he says with a nod. "We decided to give him up for adoption. It wasn't what either of us wanted, but it was best for him. So we found an adoption agency, who found a good family. The wife was some sort of doctor, and the husband was a scientist. They'd be the perfect parents." He barks laughter. "But we were naïve. Not long after the adoption went through, the husband was transferred to Mexico."
"Oh no," I whisper, as my phone vibrates again and then again.
"From what I've been able to piece together, the husband stumbled across something he shouldn't have and Francisco found out. His people killed them both. Instead of killing the kid though, Francisco decided to keep him around."
"That's what you meant about him being Francisco's son?"
Remi nods, the movement jerky, discomposed. "Elijah may have had my blood running through his veins, but he was Francisco's kid in all the ways that matter. Francisco helped raise him, taught him how to survive, how to kill…and then set him loose on the world."
I swallow another wave of nausea, fighting not to give in to the emotions coursing through me…the sympathy and sadness. Regardless of who raised Elijah, he made his own choices. And so did Remi. I won't absolve them of that guilt.
"I don't know how the fuck Francisco hid the kid from the world, but he managed it. Even faked the kid's death two years ago when he fucked up and got caught killing one of Francisco's enemies." Remi expels a heavy sigh and stops pacing, spinning to face me again. If he notices that I'm between him and our weapons, he doesn't say anything. "When Elijah came to see me, I didn't know about the way he'd been raised. I didn't know anything other than that he was my son, and he wanted to get to know me."
"He wanted to use you."
"Yeah, he wanted to use me."
"How'd he know who you were?"
"Paid off someone at the agency, I guess." Remi shrugs helplessly. "At first it was little things. He wanted to know about my job, what gangs worked what areas, and who their leaders were. I didn't see any harm in sharing that information. Then he wanted help getting a couple friends into the country. By the time I started asking questions, I'd already broken several laws. Enough to get me tossed into prison. He knew it too."
I don't respond. I don't even know what to say.
"By the time I figured out what he was planning, I knew there was no good way out for me. Elijah made sure of that by manipulating me into a corner. He knew I had no choice but to help him to save my own ass." A brief flare of pain flashes in Remi's eyes, making him seem old and haggard. "All I wanted to do was get him out. I convinced him to get out…at least I thought I had."
"He played you," I whisper, refusing to feel sympathy for this man. My phone vibrates again and then stops. This time, it doesn't start again. I hear movement outside though…the purr of car engines and the louder thump of car doors closing. If Remi hears the same things, he doesn't react.
"Yeah, like a fucking drum," he says. "By the time I figured out that there was no saving him, it was too late. He told me about the other kids." He scrubs a hand down his face and thumps his head against the wall. "I couldn't save him, but I knew I could save those kids if I could convince him to tell me where the fuck to find them. I could keep them from turning into the same kind of monster Francisco turned my son into. But I had to prove to him that I was completely on board. To do that, I kidnapped Lillian. You know how that ended."
I nod. "Tristan killed Elijah."
"Yeah," he whispers, his voice gruff. And despite everything, despite knowing that his son was a monster who turned him into one too…pain still flashes in his eyes, an endless well of grief and sorrow welling in the dark depths. "I should have turned myself in then, but I knew no one would believe me about the kids without proof, so I ran."
"Did…did you find your proof?"
"Yeah, I found my proof." He sighs. "I tried to get Roman to meet me to talk, but he refused. Not that I blame him, but I need his help finding those kids." He pins me with a hard stare. "I already know he's going to kill me for coming here today. I've accepted that, but you have to convince him to help find those kids before Francisco gets his hands on them. If he doesn't…" His voice shakes. So do his hands. "If he doesn't, there will be no keeping Francisco out of southern California."
"Where are the kids?" I ask, creeping a little bit closer to the guns.
Before he has a chance to answer, something hits the front door so hard the frame cracks.
Roman is here.
Remi's eyes go wide and then he whips his head in my direction. For the first time, he notices that I'm between him and his gun. He curses loudly.
I make a grab for my gun, barely managing to wrap my hand around it before Remi roars another curse. Another blast hits the front door, crumpling it in the frame.
The chain strains for a long moment and then the nails rip from the wood.
"Tell him to check the liner in the car," Remi says, shouting over the sound of the door ripping from its frame and voices yelling from outside. "Tell him to find those fucking kids and keep them safe."
"I will," I promise.
Glass shatters in the kitchen in another loud roar of sound. The sliding glass door shatters apart.
Remi nods and then his body goes rigid. Something a lot like regret flares in his gaze. I scream when he pulls another gun out of his pocket. Everything seems to move in slow motion as he lifts his arm.
"No!" I yell again, swinging my gun in his direction.
A shot rings out, ripping through the air.
"Mila!" Roman roars, his voice seeming to come from far off.
I fling myself backward onto the couch, screaming as Remi drops to the ground, his blood splattering all over the wall. Warm drops hit my face, and my stomach rebels. I hunch over and vomit, the gun falling from my slack grip. It thuds on the carpet beside my feet.
The front door cracks a final time and then bursts open.
I slam my hands over my ears, screaming as chaos erupts in the room. Men come pouring in the front and back doors, guns in their hands and murder in their eyes. Luke, Knox, Finn, Octavio…several I don't know. They stop when they see me, all shouting at once.
"Mila!" Roman yells again, shoving his way through them and then catapulting over the chaise. He lands in front of me. His face is red with rage, his eyes dilated with fear. He reaches for me, snatching me up into the hard wall of his chest. He runs his hands all over my body, looking for injuries, but there are none.
Remi didn't shoot me. He shot himself.
"He…he…" I wrap my body around Roman, clinging like my life depends on it. My entire body shakes with adrenaline and fear. Sobs tear from my throat in a hysterical flood. "He s-sh-shot–"
"Shh," Roman whispers into my hair. "Shh, baby. I've got you. You're okay. Everything is okay."
There's a dead man in our living room floor…and I'm pretty sure he wasn't lying about anything he told me, but I believe Roman. With his strong arms around me, how can I not believe him?
Chapter Seventeen
Roman
"I could throttle you right now," I whisper to Mila, running my hands gently up her back and then through her wild hair. We're in the bedroom, curled up on the bed w
ith her body tucked as tightly to mine as I can get it. Everyone else is in the living room, dealing with Remi's body and the aftermath of his suicide. I carried her out of there so she wouldn't have to see any more than she already had.
"I know," she mumbles into my throat, her grip on me tightening. She hasn't let me go since I picked her up, which is just fine with me. I don't plan on letting her out of my sight again anytime soon…or ever. When Knox told me Remi was inside the house with Mila, my life flashed before my eyes. I saw my future without her and it was bleak and grim, lacking warmth. I saw it again when I heard that gunshot.
I'll never forget how fucking terrified I was that she'd been shot again.
"You scared the shit out of me," I whisper, my voice shaking with emotion. Part of me wants to wring her pretty neck for giving up her gun in exchange for Faith's safety. The other part wants to tie a rope between the two of us so she can never leave my sight again.
"I'm sorry," she whispers back.
"I thought he shot you," I admit, my voice hoarse as a remnant of the fear I felt when I heard that gunshot ripples through me again. My hands tighten on her, pulling her even closer. My entire body shakes. "Don't ever do that to me again. Jesus, baby. I could have lost you and the baby both."
"He didn't want to hurt me," she mumbles, tipping her head back slightly. Her puffy, swollen eyes meet mine, full of distress and sorrow. "That's not why he came here, Roman."
I study her through narrowed eyes, biting back an instinctive denial when I see the certainty in her gaze. I don't really give a fuck why he came here. He's lucky he killed himself before I got my hands on him, because I would have torn him apart. Fuck what the DEA wanted. Fuck what he might have known. I would have destroyed him for coming near her.
"There is no excuse for him coming here," I mutter.
"He came here because it was important. I think…I think he knew I would listen to him and would make you listen too. I don't know how he knew, but he did," she whispers, stumbling over her words in her haste to get them out. "He said Francisco has more kids out there. He said you have to find them before Francisco does."
She fills me in on their conversation, telling me everything Remi said. I'm not sure if I believe it or not, but she does. It's enough to keep me from outright denying the possibility that he was telling her the truth. It's enough to worry me. If Francisco has more kids out there, someone has to find them.
"Do you think he was telling the truth?" she asks when she's finished talking.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"I think he regrets what he did to Lillian," she whispers, reaching up to run one fingertip across my bottom lip. "I think he regrets a lot of the things he did."
"Don't you dare feel sorry for him, Mila," I growl.
Her brows crinkle, her face scrunching up. "I don't feel sorry for him. He made his choices, and he knew what the consequences would be. But…I guess maybe I understand why he did what he did. If it were our baby who was hurting people, wouldn't you make the same choice to try to save her?"
"It'll never be our baby," I growl, placing a protective hand over her belly. "Our baby will never grow up with someone like Francisco. She'll never know that kind of life. Not ever."
"I know she won't," Mila says softly, placing one of her hands over mine. "You would never let that happen and neither would I. But try to put yourself in his place. You didn't even know about Talia until she was a teenager. How would you feel if her mom had been like Francisco? If she'd been raised by a soulless, evil bastard?"
A loud growl rumbles in my throat at the thought…but I can't arbitrarily discount her point, either. Talia's mom made a shit choice when she decided not to tell me about Talia, one that affected me and Talia both. Lucinda is a heartless bitch as far as I'm concerned, but at least Talia didn't grow up with a murderous monster. Her mom loved her, protected her. "That doesn't absolve him," I reluctantly mutter.
"It doesn't," Mila agrees. "What Remi did wasn't right. He could have made a thousand different choices to help those kids, a thousand better choices, but he didn't. I'm not saying he was right or that he deserves to be forgiven. All I'm saying is maybe he isn't a complete monster." She bites her lip, eyeing me almost warily. "He said he didn't tell them about me and Talia."
"Bullshit," I snarl.
Mila flinches.
I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper. It's hard though…really fucking hard. Adrenaline and rage still pump through my veins with every beat of my heart, demanding I protect her, neutralize the threat. Except I can't do that because he did it himself. He shot himself in the head right in front of her.
She's a fucking warrior. She always has been, but Jesus Christ. She didn't even flinch or hesitate today. She sent Faith to safety and took on Remi by herself.
"I'm losing my fucking mind here, Mila," I admit, far more calmly than I feel. "I don't know if I want to spank you or handcuff you to me. I'm fucking proud of you and pissed at the same time. You scared the shit out of me. I thought I'd lost you." I drop my head back against the bed on a painful groan. "Fuck, don't ever do that shit to me again."
"I'm sorry," she whispers, pushing her body closer to mine. Her lips run across my cheek and then my jawline, peppering my face with kisses. "I'm so sorry, Roman. I wasn't thinking. I just knew I had to keep him talking long enough for you to get here. You've been so stressed out with everything going on. I couldn't just let him leave. I didn't think about what it would do to you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She starts crying again, softly at first and then harder. Her tears drip from her lashes onto my cheek.
"It's okay," I croon, sitting up and pulling her into my lap. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly as she cries. I'm not sure if she's crying because I'm angry with her, or if she's crying because she just watched a man shoot himself in the head. A little of both, I'm guessing. I whisper reassurances over and over, telling her how much I love her and how much I need her, until eventually her tears slow and then halt. Her breath evens out into the deep rhythm of sleep.
When Luke pokes his head in the bedroom door, I reluctantly lay her down on the bed and press a kiss to her forehead. Even in her sleep, she clings to me, whimpering when I pry her hands off me and pull the blanket up over her.
"What's up?" I ask Luke, stepping out into the hall with him and pulling the bedroom door partially closed to keep from disturbing her.
"Randolph and Cassidy just showed up."
"Of course they're here," I groan, shoving my fingers into my hair and tugging. The motherfuckers have probably been waiting with bated breath for the chance to swoop in and claim credit for bringing Remi to justice. Never mind the fact that he killed himself. They'll find some way to spin it in their favor.
Luke snorts and then nods toward the bedroom. "How's she doing?"
"She's shaken," I mutter, peeking through the crack in the door to see that she's curled onto her right side, hugging my pillow against her chest. "But she's a fucking warrior. She's going to be fine."
"I can't believe he fucking shot himself in front of her," Luke growls, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.
"I'm not happy about it either." But I'm also not particularly surprised. Guys like Remi never stick around to deal with the consequences of their misdeeds. "Let's go deal with these motherfuckers and get them out of my house."
Luke nods and starts to head down the hall.
I thrust an arm out in front of him, halting him. "There may be more of Francisco's kids out there."
"Jesus Christ," he whispers, his eyes widening. He scrutinizes my expression, and quickly realizes I'm not fucking around with him. "You're serious."
"Yeah. That's apparently why Remi decided to drop in."
"You telling them that?" he asks, jerking his head toward the living room.
"Nope. I'm not telling them a fucking thing about those kids."
He nods like he expected that answer. "I'll back your play."
Relief winds through me a
t his promise, releasing a little of the tension coiled like a serpent in my stomach. I'm not going to have to ask Mila to lie to them about what Remi said to her. With Luke following my lead, they won't stick around to question her.
"Thanks," I tell him, meaning it all the way down to my soul.
Luke follows me down the hall into the living room. Most everyone has cleared out, leaving Octavio, another detective, and a crime scene tech to process the scene. There's a sheet over Remi's body, but blood has seeped through, staining the white fabric a dark red. Finn, Cassidy, and Randolph stand off to one side, watching Octavio and the other detective work. Cassidy and Randolph are dressed in jeans and t-shirts, outer carriers strapped over their chest like they actually spend time in the field when we all know they don't. Finn towers over them, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He's not any happier to see them here than I am.
As soon as Cassidy spots me, he nudges Randolph and they start in my direction, both grim-faced and stoic.
"Outside," I mutter, turning on my heel and heading toward the kitchen.
Cassidy mutters something beneath his breath, but they follow me, with Finn and Luke hot on their heels.
"Octavio, get Knox in here to keep an eye on Mila!" I order over my shoulder before ducking through the shattered glass door and out onto the patio. As soon as I'm outside, I spin on Randolph and Cassidy. "Why the fuck are the two of you in my house?"
Finn puts a hand on my shoulder, silently cautioning me to rein in my temper.
Randolph has the grace to look embarrassed, but not Cassidy. He narrows his eyes on me, scowling like I'm the interloper here. His glare then shoots over my shoulder to Luke.
"He's not leaving so you might as well say what you want to say," Finn says before I have a chance.
"What the fuck happened, Gregory?" Cassidy demands.
"What happened?" I growl, clenching my hands into tight fists so I don't take a swing at him. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Your boy broke into my house, threatened my fiancée with a gun, and you're asking me what the fuck happened? What the fuck do you think happened?" I roar.
Desire Me (Her Best Friend's Father Book 4) Page 26
