Forsaken

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Chad—”

  “Save it,” I bite out, grabbing her arm again and walking toward a small building, a converted garage turned into an office, about a hundred feet away. At the door, I don’t bother knocking. I simply open it and step inside, taking Gia with me and releasing my hold on her as I kick it shut.

  Juan Carlos sits behind a fancy mahogany desk, his long dark hair in a ponytail, a scar down one cheek that I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing him receive. “Chad, my friend,” he greets, standing and offering me his hand.

  “Stay here,” I murmur to Gia, stepping forward and shaking hands with him, as he adds, “I hope my sister wasn’t too much of a bitch to you.”

  “She was just the right kind of bitch to protect you. How much did that Escalade out there run you?”

  His hands settle on his jeans-clad hips, a ring carved with the Mayan sun symbol on his left hand, which I happen to know is invaluable. “A cool hundred Gs. Isn’t she a beauty?”

  “I’ll buy her for a hundred and twenty Gs.”

  “What? No. I just brought it home. You need a vehicle, I’ll get you a vehicle.”

  “I need it tonight. Now.”

  “This is why you came to me?”

  “And I need documentation for the woman.”

  “That’ll take time. I can get you a vehicle and the identity by tomorrow night.”

  “We both know your ID packets are done and ready to go.”

  “For a substantial upcharge. I don’t want to charge you extra.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I’m a businessman.”

  “How much?”

  “A hundred and fifty thousand for the identity.”

  I whistle. “That’s steep.”

  “Wait until tomorrow night. I’ll get you a car and a reduced fee.”

  “Tonight,” I insist. “On credit, of course. You know I’m good for it.”

  “I also know you’re always cheating death by one step.”

  Not about to argue that truth, I reach in the bag, grab a wad of cash and toss it onto the desk. “That’s a down payment.”

  He glances down and seems to do a mental calculation before opening a drawer, flipping through folders, and choosing one. He sets it on top of the desk and opens it for me. I glance down at the Texas driver’s license with a rather unattractive brunette female who’s a stretch as Gia, with a name that reads “Ashley Woods.” “When do we get her picture to replace this one?”

  “Now.” He grabs his cell phone and dials, speaking in Spanish to his sister before refocusing on me and confirming what I’ve already understood.

  “Maria’s headed over here to take her photo, which will replace the current ones in all public databases in about seventy-two hours. We’ll need several different looks to ensure the effectiveness of the cover story. As you should know by now, your price includes a family history, college degree, and a track record that reaches all the way back to birth.”

  “Social Security card?”

  “Of course. And a birth certificate. As always, you receive everything you need to make the person she is now disappear.”

  The door behind us opens and I shift to put Juan Carlos in profile as I watch Maria enter. She quickly moves behind the desk, giving us her back as she and Juan Carlos talk. I motion to Gia and she steps forward. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “For what?”

  “I couldn’t have afforded to do this without you.”

  Ignoring the punch in my gut at the vulnerability of her words, I stiffen my spine, refusing to let down my guard with this woman. “I need you alive to help me. This was for me, not you.”

  A stunned look slides over her face, replacing the appreciative one of moments before. “I see.”

  “Good,” I approve. “Then we’re clear.”

  “No, nothing is clear at all—but then, maybe it never will be again.” Her chin lifts in the now familiar way I’ve come to expect from her, an act of bravado she doesn’t feel. Or maybe it’s just an act, period. “What do I need to do?” she asks. “What’s next?”

  I grit my teeth at the bite of pain I sense in her words, and resist the stupid need to comfort her, taking her arm again, and turning her to face Maria and Juan Carlos. “She’s all yours,” I say, but the way Juan Carlos’s eyes flicker over Gia, the interest in their depths, leaves me regretting those words.

  Maria motions for Gia to follow her through a door, Juan Carlos behind them, and a wave of protectiveness overcomes me. It’s laughable that I would feel such a thing about a woman who must have decided she couldn’t manipulate me, so she’d just turn me back over to Sheridan to save herself. It’s logical. It’s what has to have happened, so fuck her and any discomfort she might feel in that other room. I even turn for the door before I stop dead in my tracks, cursing and crossing the small space between me and her, telling myself her safety is in my best interests—I’m simply protecting an asset in the war against Sheridan.

  Entering the room, I find Gia sitting in a chair facing me while Maria brushes her hair, an array of make-up and hair tools everywhere. Gia’s eyes meet mine, and the bond that I sense between us has me cursing again. It’s not real, I remind myself, any more than the name on those IDs we’re buying. Maria steps between us, breaking the spell of the moment, and I let out a breath I seem to be holding in. Leaning on the wall, Juan Carlos joins me, a camera in his hand as he waits on the women.

  “Who is she to you?” he asks.

  “Just another curve in the ever-winding path that is my life,” I say, wishing it were that simple, somehow knowing it isn’t.

  “Who’d she piss off?”

  “Me,” I say.

  “She got in the way of you and a prize, then.”

  “What’s mine is mine,” I confirm, embracing my reputation, “and right now, that includes her.”

  “Her?”

  I throw a look at Juan Carlos. “That’s right. She belongs to me. And so we’re clear, there is no ‘even’ where she’s concerned. You hear of anyone looking for her, I don’t care what price they offer—you keep your mouth shut.”

  “I don’t stay in business by running my mouth.”

  “We both know you like money.”

  He lifts his hand, indicating the ring. “I wear enough money on my left hand to leave any time I wish.”

  “I wondered about that. Why don’t you?”

  He laughs low and cynical. “A woman. Isn’t it always? If I ever convince her I’m not a monster, maybe she’ll actually run off with me.”

  “Indeed,” I agree, thinking that’s exactly what happened with Meg, and will happen with Gia too, if I let it. But what stands out in my mind are the words a monster. It’s the way I imagine Amy will see me when she knows I caused all of this.

  Maria motions to Juan Carlos, and I follow him toward the women. We hover over Gia, and she doesn’t look at me or Juan Carlos. “Gia,” I say softly, her gaze lifting to mine, and I see the uncertainty, the unease in her eyes, and somehow it’s okay for me to put it there, but not anyone else. “We need to be on the road in fifteen minutes,” I tell the group.

  “Then let’s get the first photo done for the driver’s license,” Juan Carlos says. “I’ll get that document doctored while Maria takes a few for school records and things of that sort—unless you want to tell me the lady’s real name, in which case I can hack her existing records.”

  Gia’s eyes go wide and I answer, “No. Take the photos.”

  “Very well,” he concedes, motioning for Maria to step back as he aims the camera at Gia, and says, “Smile, pretty lady.” She doesn’t smile. He doesn’t seem to care. He shoots several photos and then waits for Maria to pull Gia’s hair back and help her change her jacket.

  After four clothing changes, I’ve had enough. “We’re done,” I say, pulling Gia to her feet and tugging some sort of red jacket off her shoulders as she whispers, “Thank goodness.” I lace my fingers with hers and walk to the outer of
fice to find Juan Carlos working at a computer. “Time’s up,” I tell him.

  He rotates in his chair and hands me a folder. “Everything you need.”

  I take it from him. “Keys?”

  He fishes them out of his pocket and hands them to me. I accept them and lead Gia to the exit, urging her outside as I pause and glance over my shoulder. “I left you a present at the curb. You should get rid of it quickly.” I step outside and shut the door to the echo of his string of curse words.

  Wordlessly, the air thick and awkward between us, Gia and I rush through the backyard and open the driver’s-side door of the Escalade. Gia steps in front of me and climbs in the door, and damned if I don’t get a nice, long view of her backside that I know is even better naked than in those jeans. I follow her inside and she settles on the floor.

  “You don’t want me to see how to get back here,” she says as I start the engine.

  “That’s right,” I confirm.

  “You think I had something to do with what happened at the car dealer.”

  I back out of the driveway. “I told you, Gia. I can’t afford to trust you.”

  “So I’m right. I didn’t have a phone. And even if I did, if I really was working for Sheridan and this was all one big ploy to earn your trust, why would I call him to tell him where you were?”

  I hit the brakes and put the vehicle in drive. I cut her a condemning look. “I guess you figured out that I won’t be manipulated.”

  “And what? I wanted to go ahead and let him kill me for failing and get it over with?”

  “Or you’re naive enough to think helping him capture me again will save you. It won’t.” I hit the accelerator.

  “I had no phone, Chad,” she hisses.

  “You were in that bathroom a long damn time, Gia.”

  “I told you—”

  “You were feeling sick. You seem just fine now.”

  “I’m not you, asshole, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be fine again.” I watch her turn to rest her back on the seat, curling her knees to her chest. “Maybe you should stop blaming what happened on me in time to stop it from happening to us again.”

  “There is no ‘us’ and you’d be smart to remember that,” I reply sharply. But as I find my way back onto the highway, on edge, I replay her warning in my head. My mind retraces every second at that car dealership. I’ve lingered on Gia as the guilty party because those goons were on us too soon after the salesman exited for it to have been his doing. But even if Gia somehow had a phone, I’m not sure she had time to call Sheridan and have those men arrive that quickly, either. Over and over I replay the events, with something hard and sharp biting at the back of my mind. I shove it away. I deny it.

  Two hours into the drive, we’re continuing our way to Denver, crossing through New Mexico’s high desert country, and my mind hasn’t slowed down yet. Gia, however, is breathing deeply, somehow sleeping on the floorboard she never even tried to get up from. That sharp, biting possibility I’ve been fighting is making me crazy, making me want to crawl out of my own skin. Finally, after what seems like miles and miles of nothing, a secluded rest stop appears. I quickly pull off the road down a tree-lined path to find a deserted parking area that is nothing more than a dirt road with a wooden, cabin-like structure next to it.

  Parking, I sit there behind the wheel, my nerves jumping, as Gia stretches. “Are we ‘here,’ wherever it is we’re supposed to be going?”

  I exit the Escalade without answering, slamming the door shut. By the time I round the hood, Gia is exiting as well. “Oh, good,” she murmurs. “I really need a bathroom.”

  She’s adorable, pretty, so damn innocent—which could all be a façade, only it doesn’t fucking feel like one at all. I start walking toward the deserted building and she quickly catches up with me, taking the wooden steps to a porch that divides the men’s and women’s bathrooms.

  Gia stops at the door to the women’s restroom and faces me. “I guess we’re double-teaming this again?”

  I grab her and pull her to me. “Why were you in that bathroom?”

  “I was weak. It all hit me and I started to cry. I’m not a crier. But I just—”

  I kiss her, my fingers slicing into her hair, my tongue licking into her mouth. I need her. I need an escape, and I want nothing more than to yank her jeans down and fuck her right here, right now. She moans and wraps her arms around my neck, and I mold her close, trying to suppress what my mind is telling me. I lift her, my hands around her backside, carrying her into the bathroom.

  As I shove her against the wall, our lips part and she whispers, “I hate that you hate me.”

  It’s a jolt of reality that I need, and I set her down, turning away and leaning on the sink, my head dipped low, my breathing heavy. I do hate, but not Gia. I hate Sheridan, and Amy is going to hate me. Amy. I repeat her name in my head, willing her to be alive, and forcing myself to face what I’ve been avoiding. If Gia didn’t call Sheridan and the salesman didn’t either, that leaves only one option—and it’s trouble.

  Shoving off the sink, I remove the back of the cell phone, removing the SIM card and breaking it in half. Next I do the same with the phone, before walking into one of the stalls and flushing both down the toilet. Exiting I find Gia standing there, looking stunned. “What just happened?”

  “I stopped blaming you. We need to go, and now.” Her eyes go wide, and I close in on her, urging her out of the bathroom and down the steps. “Now,” I say again, and she takes off running, with me on her heels. Inside the Escalade, I start the engine and back us the hell out of what could easily become a trap.

  Pulling onto the highway, I am not pleased to see just how few vehicles are on the road, leaving us standing out like a sore thumb. “You think we were tracked through your phone,” Gia states.

  “Yes,” I confirm. “I called from that number over and over, and didn’t block my number.”

  “You think that means the person you’ve been calling betrayed you?”

  My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “No. I don’t think he betrayed me.”

  “Oh.” She pauses a moment, and adds, “This doesn’t mean he’s dead. It doesn’t mean your sister isn’t safe, either. It doesn’t.”

  While her words are meant to offer comfort, I reject what will only make me weak and soft. “The only thing we know for certain is that you and I are alive, right here and now. Everything else is a question. And I do mean everything.”

  NINE

  GIA AND I are two hours from Denver when I start grilling her, wanting to take advantage of anything she might have learned about Sheridan after a year of working for him. I have her describe every visitor, every employee, every interaction she had with anyone and everyone. I ask a ton of questions about anyone who might resemble Meg, but get no answer that makes me believe that Meg has visited Sheridan or communicated with him, when I know damn well that she did. Sheridan is too smart to make many mistakes, but too human not to make any.

  By the time we hit the Denver city limits, I’ve stopped at a store to buy a phone and spent a good portion of time focusing my thoughts on a person of interest. A fortysomething, attractive blond woman who, per Gia’s claims, started visiting Sheridan a month ago.

  “They were intimate?” I ask. “You’re sure?”

  “Oh yes. Very sure.”

  “You saw them showing affection?”

  “No. It was a vibe when they were together. A way that they looked at each other. The length of time they were behind closed doors together, often for hours.”

  “And you never knew who she worked for?”

  “No, and I could never get to the sign-in register to find out who she was.”

  I arch a brow. “Why would you try?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. There was just something about her that seemed odd.”

  “Odd. Okay. Did anyone else ever join their meetings?”

  “Never. This isn’t much help, is it?”

  “
It helps.”

  “But we don’t know who she is.”

  “I’ll find out.”

  We reach the exit that leads to Cherry Creek, the fast-developing area where I bought a number of investment properties years before—and the location where I’ve hidden Amy—and I tell myself to pass it by. I’ll be looked for here, but I can’t seem to care. I exit and stare at the road, completely still and focused, but adrenaline pulses through me, my heartbeat pounding in my temples.

  “Chad,” Gia prods gently. “What’s wrong?”

  That she can read me so easily is a sign that she’s slipped beneath the walls I’ve erected around myself. “Aside from the present delay,” I say, stopping at a light, “who said anything is wrong?”

  “Your mood. The exit. What am I sensing? Are we close to your sister?”

  I cut her a look. “If my sister is where she’s supposed to be, yes.” The light changes and I turn to the left and down the street leading to what should be Amy’s new apartment, but I keep going, passing it and the hotel directly across from it. I want to stop, but I have another destination in mind. “Stuff your hair in your jacket again,” I order, grabbing the baseball cap and putting it on before taking another left.

  “If you were betrayed, Chad, Sheridan could know where Amy is. Please tell me your plan isn’t just to barge in and grab her. They could be waiting to grab you and her together.”

  “If Sheridan knew she was here, he’d already have her.”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe she was a backup plan. We’re both too tired to think through this clearly.”

  “There is no ‘we.’ ”

  “There is a ‘we.’ I’m here, and believe it or not, I put my life on the line for all of this.”

  I pull up in front of the Inn at Cherry Creek. “If he hasn’t found her yet, I’m not wasting a moment that might let him. Grab your bag.” I pop the door open and the doorman greets me, as does one on Gia’s side. I give the man a nod, snag my duffel, and unzip it, palming him a large bill as I quietly say, “Keep my vehicle at the side of the building with the keys inside.” He gives the tip a glance and his agreement is adamant and instant.