by Miley Maine
“I’d be surprised if he hasn’t,” Owen said. “His staff are probably beholden to him for some reason. He might pay bills for their families in poorer areas. He might give them huge bonuses. Maybe he helped them fight a criminal or civil charge, I don’t know. There are a multitude of possibilities. But it was clear that he didn’t think you’d be there.”
“Because he doesn’t trust me?”
“Because you’re not there long-term.” He put his hands on his hips. “Also, you’re going to have to pretend you’re still dating me.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you do not want Laurent asking questions. You don’t want him poking around into either of our lives, any more than he already was. You want him to think you were scared, and I reassured you. End of story.”
“People break up all the time.” Not that we’d been an official couple. We’d never even discussed it.
“Laurent didn’t get where he is by sticking his head in the sand. He saw my face when I realized you were home last night. He saw how I reacted – he knew I’d have done anything to save you. If we quit speaking, he’s going to ask why.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “There was a lot going on last night,” I said. “I doubt he was paying attention.”
“It doesn’t matter if he was or wasn’t. If there’s a chance he was – and the chance is much higher than you think it is – then we have to pretend. I am not going to let him harm you, and I’m sure that was spelled out all over my face. He noticed.”
I stepped forward to let the cold waves wash over my feet again. “And you’re okay with him thinking you feel that way in the middle of your investigation?”
“Yes. First of all, because it’s true. I told you last night that I love you. That wasn’t said in haste. I stand by that.”
“But you’re standing there all businesslike, telling me all the rules for my life now.”
“Because I respect your choices. I’m not going to keep pushing you if you want to end our relationship. As long as you can pretend for Laurent. And his staff.”
“I don’t know if I’m that good of an actor.”
“You are. You can do this. If it helps, think of it as protecting other people. Possibly thousands.”
“Thousands?” I echoed. My heart stuttered at the implication. “Bombs? Terrorism?”
“I can’t say.”
“Of course you can’t. Was anything you told me true? Are you from San Francisco?”
His stony expression told me everything. “Wow.”
“I’m from Oxford, Mississippi,” he said, stepping forward to join me in the edge of the ocean. “So when you talked about summer in Alabama, it felt like I was home.” He pressed his lips together. “My buddy played football for the University of Alabama. So I spent more than a few weekends cheering him on.”
“Mississippi,” I said. “I’d like to believe that’s true.”
He said nothing, but he took my hand. I let him, because I’d need to practice not throwing him off once we were back.
“Kate. I can’t apologize for my job, or for my duty to my country, but I am so sorry I involved you in this, when I couldn’t be honest with you. I had a choice when I asked you out, and I convinced myself that dating you was okay, that it wasn’t a shitty thing to do. But it was. I didn’t restrain myself. Not because you were useful to me, but because you are lovely, and captivating and thoughtful.” He leaned in and gave me just the barest kiss on my cheek. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
I said nothing. His words were nice, and I wished I could believe them. But I didn’t. I waited for the anger to surge again, but it didn’t. I was numb.
After a few moments, he let go of my hand. “We’d better go.”
Ninety minutes later, we were back at the Laurents’ house. As usual, Owen walked me to the door.
“Is my face splotchy?” I asked.
“No. You look great,” he said.
“I don’t expect you’d notice if I didn’t,” I grumbled.
“Remember, act normally.”
“Right.” I steeled myself and then wrapped my arms around his waist. “Thank you for the trip,” I said, not concealing my words, although my heart began to race. “The beach was very relaxing.”
He put his arms around me. “I'm glad you enjoyed it.”
He bent down a little and gave me a firm kiss on my mouth. “Have a good day. I’ll see you soon.”
Then he walked back to his car and drove away.
Okay. The first hurdle was over. I’d successfully touched him without shoving him down the stairs. By the time his car reached the end of the street, my racing heart had slowed, just a little.
Will I ever get used to this? How long will this charade go on?
The butler let me in, and he made small talk, as usual. I couldn’t detect anything on his face that would give him away. He didn’t show me anything that would point to our shared experience of working for a madman.
I went inside. Near the living room, I paused. I had watched a man die there last night. He’d bled all over the rug. Had Amelia been forced to clean up the blood? Or did they have employees for that? But the cream rug was gone, replaced by a gold one.
Mrs. Laurent stepped into the hallway holding Gabriel. “You have returned. I do hope you enjoyed our beach home,” she said. Gabriel reached for me, and I took him.
“It was amazing,” I said. “I walked on the beach, and soaked in the hot tub.” Both were true, but the words felt like ash in my mouth.
“I am pleased you enjoyed your time with Mr. Baxley,” she said. “I expect we will be seeing a lot more of him.”
“Yes, you will,” I said, glad that Owen and I had talked through this.
Owen did continue to come over, day after excruciating day. He still brought me lunch and dinner, and we still swam in the pool. He took me back to the hotel, but instead of sleeping together, I read books. There were no more vineyards or nightlife, or fun tours around the city. There was just me, trying to live my life while spending time with the man who broke my heart.
Chapter Thirty-One
Owen
One month. That was how long it had been since I’d seen any light in Kate’s eyes when she looked at me.
I still ate, slept and worked out, and I still performed my soul-sucking day job for Laurent, but I didn’t enjoy any of it. I saw Kate all the time, but I missed her with a bone-deep ache I’d never felt before.
For the first time, I wondered if the CIA was worth it if it meant losing Kate.
And the icing on the very shitty cake was that the sting operation had been delayed. As July turned into August, I waited, at times more patiently than others.
I still dropped by the Laurents’ home all the time; I still picked Kate up for dates. At first, she’d asked me if I could drop her off at a library or a bookstore.
But the answer was no. Because of the tight fist Laurent maintained in parts of Santiago, Kate and I couldn’t fake our dates. When I picked her up, she needed to be with me. Our relationship needed to look real.
Now that she knew the truth, I took her to my apartment. While we were there, she read. If she needed help with a translation while reading in Spanish, she asked Google for help, not me.
The only time we spoke was when she gave me details about what the Laurents were doing. Every three days I’d report a summary of her observations to my supervisor, but other than that, each day was the same as the last.
Then one day, someone pounded on the door.
“Get in my closet,” I told Kate who was there reading The Great Gatsby in my den. I handed her my Glock. “You remember how to use it?
She nodded. “I remember. What about you? Do you have another?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, picking up a large kitchen knife. “Go. Don’t come out.”
Luckily, she went, and I peered through the hole in the door.
Dammit. I blew out a breath. It was Jack
.
I opened the door, still wielding the knife. “I thought you were gone.”
“I am,” he said. “I came to warn you. We’ve got reliable intel that Laurent is making the sale soon. The product could be on the black market, and in the hands of terrorists within a week.”
“Fuck,” I said.
“You have to move soon,” he said. “Next week.”
“Yeah. I do.” I dropped my knife on the countertop. “Can you coordinate with local law enforcement? With the military? I’ll call my supervisor now. I know he trusts you, and he’ll appreciate having a heads up from within the agency.”
“I’m on it,” he said.
“I’ll owe you forever,” I promised. I locked the door behind him.
“Kate. It’s okay,” I said. “You can come out.”
She emerged from the closet and handed me the gun. I was pleased to see she’d already put the safety back on.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought he was working out of town.”
“Not a problem. I know what to expect now.” She picked up her book and started reading again, not sparing me another glance.
Four days after Jack had showed up on my doorstep, my secure phone rang right after I’d gotten home from work. The ring was a shrill, insistent sound.
“They’re ready to move now,” Jack said as soon as I answered. “They were fine with the delay after Laurent’s little showdown with the bodyguard, but they’re tired of waiting. With the information you’ve gathered from his official finances, and the underground information from the Irish asset, they feel ready.”
“Can you make sure we’ve got pick-up for the family?” I asked. “There’s his wife, his baby, and the nanny. My supervisor arranged it, but that was a month ago.”
“I’m on it,” Jack said.
I tugged my vest on, made it sure it was a tight fit, and pulled my suit on over it. I wasn’t going to give myself away until I had to. I grabbed my weapons bag and secured my pinhole camera, which could be transmitted to the equipment Jack had and I ran to my car.
As I drove, I called my supervisor. “We’re moving now,” I said. “I’ve already told Jack, but I need those people out.”
“On it,’ he said.
At least with Kate gone, I could concentrate on Laurent. A dull ache seared through my chest. There was a good chance I’d never see her again. Sure, I could find her easily. But would she want that? I’d have to find that out later.
When I arrived, the house was surrounded at a distance by law enforcement vehicles, but none had their lights on, and there were no sirens. In the distance, a helicopter buzzed, waiting in case we needed it. There was no way Laurent was escaping this.
The plan was for me to go in first, and not have a SWAT-team-style attack. With so many staff members, it would be too easy for people to get killed.
I wouldn’t be the one to arrest Laurent, but I would secure him, and then the Chilean police could come in and take over.
I took the safety off my gun and entered.
As always, the butler opened the door for me. “Go right now,” I said. “Walk down the sidewalk to the street, and keep going.”
“I don’t understand, Mr. Baxley.”
“If you want to survive, go now. This is your only warning. Stop at the first black SUV. They’ll help you.”
The butler gave me a measured glance but he left the house and walked down the steps toward the street.
I held my gun down my side, and I walked into the house.
Laurent was waiting in the kitchen. “Owen. I wasn’t expecting you yet.” Laurent looked down at his watch. When he looked back up, his shadowy blue eyes met mine. “I should have known you were too good to be true,” Laurent said.
I pointed my gun at him. “How’d you find out?” The more intel, the better.
“The butler. He is loyal to me. I freed his father and his son from a Brazilian prison. It was nothing to me financially, but it has paid off over and over. ”
Shit. The butler had checked out on paper. If I’d known his father and son had served time in Brazil, I’d have been more careful. And now I’d tipped Laurent off, trying to save as many people as I could.
I pointed my gun at him. “Put your hands in the air.” I was wired up, with a camera and audio, so it would only be seconds before the house was flooded with officers.
“That is never going to happen,” Laurent said.
From somewhere else inside the house, a gunshot rang out.
“Just my people cleaning the house,” he stated.
And then the chaos started. The roar of the helicopter blades overhead, the loudspeaker telling Laurent to surrender, the sound of windows shattering all added to the cacophony. I kept my gun trained on him.
“I am not going to let an American apprehend me,” he said with a sneer.
“I don’t have to be the one to do it,” I said. “I’ll be more than happy to let one of the local police do it.”
“Those cretins will not touch me. My guards are coming.”
Fuck. It wouldn’t be us against Laurent. It would be us against his goons.
I didn’t waver, but kept my gun pointed straight at his head. I didn’t think Laurent would shoot at me. I thought he’d wait for one of his goons to do it. But I was wrong. He fired his gun, and burning pain slashed through my arm.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kate
“Let us stop for a moment,” Mrs. Laurent said to me as we were walking back to the villa. She’d asked me to come with her and Gabriel on a walk, and I’d been happy to. I didn’t have much else to do, other than dread another agonizing night with Owen.
Lately, I’d found myself wanting to forgive him, or at least resume our relationship. I missed our date nights, and confiding in him, kissing him, and sleeping with him too. But I was resolute. There was no future for us.
And there never had been. Owen had wanted to send me away without a word.
Instead of walking up the path to the villa, Mrs. Laurent stopped by a fence where flowering vines grew rampant, covering the fence entirely.
Concealed in the bushes stood a man.
Recalling my training with Owen, I stood on the balls of my feet, ready to move if he threatened us, but Mrs. Laurent walked straight to him.
“I’m going to need you to come with me, ma’am.” The man said to me. He flashed a badge.
“I didn’t get a chance to see that,” I said.
“You don’t need to,” he replied. “You’re coming with us.”
“What is this about?” I asked.
“We’re taking you and the baby out of the country,” the officer said to Mrs. Laurent.
I thought Mrs. Laurent would argue, but she didn’t. She merely nodded.
“You don’t have to go with him,” I said to her. “How do we know he’s legitimate?”
“His credentials are intact,” she said. “I have spoken with my uncle on the phone. He can vouch for this man.”
“Your uncle?” What is she talking about?
“My uncle is a member of the French Parliament,” she said. “And I must leave.”
She knows her husband is being apprehended? She’s awfully calm. And I’d had no idea her uncle was an important politician; she spent most of her time when we were together talking about clothes. And just because she trusted this plan didn’t mean I did. Owen hadn’t said a word about a French uncle.
From inside the house, I heard a gunshot.
My heart thundered until I could barely catch my breath. Owen was in there.
All around us, agents or officers, or maybe even soldiers began to stream from their vehicles. Maybe some were Laurent’s thugs. They flooded the front yard, spilling out to surround the house.
He might kill me for it later, but there is no way I can leave him if he’s in trouble.
“You go,” I said to Mrs. Laurent. I kissed Gabriel on top of the head. “I hope I see you soon, little man.”
Mrs.
Laurent’s cool hand landed on my arm. “Please. Come with us.”
“No. I can’t,” I said.
“I was in love once too,” she said sadly, squeezing my arm. “I would like to see you again. And your Mr. Baxley. I always knew he was a good man, and now I owe him my allegiance, for being the one to get me out of this hell.”
And with that bombshell, she was gone, leaving the scent of her expensive perfume lingering behind her.
I didn’t have time to contemplate what all that was about. I turned and ran. I wouldn’t get through the front door with all the police, but I ran around the back of the house. The back door was wide open, and I headed straight in.
Footsteps pounded, and I heard more gunshots.
I ran, ducking down, crouching low. I hadn’t found Owen yet. I stood, staying low and ran to the kitchen, hoping I could grab a knife.
In the kitchen, Owen and Laurent stood facing each other, guns aimed and ready to shoot.
Owen’s left arm was at his side, and blood was gushing.
He’d already been shot.
“Owen,” I screamed.
Laurent glanced at me, and then he fired his gun again. Owen jumped to the side and hit the floor, covering me with his body. Before Laurent could get to us, two soldiers grabbed Laurent by the arms and dragged him away, while another held a machine gun pointed at Laurent.
“Kate,” he panted, unable to catch his breath. “Why are you here? They were supposed to pick you up.”
“They got Mrs. Laurent and the baby, but I ran.”
“For fuck’s sake, why?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Not important right now. We need to run.” Owen’s fingers wrapped around my wrist. “We don’t know who’s part of Laurent’s crew and who’s not.”
“Can you stand?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, but he was slow to get up. However, once he was up, he started moving, taking me down a hallway and out a side door. Even bleeding, Owen ran fast. He skidded to a stop in front of a black Mercedes. “Can’t take my car. Gotta borrow one.”
