Dangerous Heat (Aegis Group, #8)

by Sidney Bristol

“A meeting? With who? Where are you?”

  “If I told you I’d have to kill you.” He chuckled.

  “That sounds serious.” She’d gone over his schedule. There weren’t any meetings today.

  “What are you up to tonight?” His silky rich tone implied more than his words.

  Mia crossed her free arm over her chest and turned a circle, taking in his apartment. Where she wasn’t supposed to be. “Oh, stopping by my mom’s on my way home in a minute.”

  “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Maybe. Do you want to?”

  “Always.”

  Her heart pulsed, making it hard to speak. She swallowed and pushed on. If she saw him and had a moment with his phone, maybe she’d know who he spoke to today and what the meeting was about. “Hey, I wanted to ask you if you’d thought about stopping in to see your sister? You aren’t that far from her if you’re in the city.”

  A beat of silence. Coco was a sore topic. Mia didn’t know the details, but she had a suspicion. Cane had never been quiet about much, but whatever this was to do with his sister, he didn’t want to talk about it. And that meant there was something in this world he was guilty of. Mia doubted it was the kind of dirt Luke wanted, but it was worth investigating. Mia was a desperate woman.

  “It would just be nice if your family was involved with the wedding, you know?”

  “Mom said she’d be there. She’s happy for me.” The warmth was gone from his tone.

  “But your sister? She’s your twin, Cane. Isn’t it time you put the past behind you?”

  “I’ll think about it. I need to go.”

  Mia pulled the phone away from her face.

  Call ended.

  Cane’s few shortcomings were wrapped around the women in his family. Mia only knew some of their secrets, but she was certain the answers to her problems lay with those women. But if she couldn’t uncover those, there were other options. She wasn’t going to like them, but for her babies she’d do whatever she had to.

  16.

  Wednesday. Mlilo Animal Reserve, South Africa.

  Coco stood amidst the noise and confusion watching the others unload the rescued animals. She’d been certain these were the people responsible for Utata’s death. Where was the proof? Where was his horn? “Hey?” Paxton grasped her by the elbow and stepped in front of her, blocking off her view of the veterinary team who’d been called in to care for the animals.

  She lifted her chin, staring into his blue eyes.

  “We did good tonight.” His hair stuck up from the mask and dark streaks smeared down his cheeks.

  “Did we?”

  “Yeah. You don’t think so?”

  “We didn’t find the tranq darts.” She glanced at the truck, wishing someone would appear, holding a box of them. “What about Utata’s horn?”

  “It’s been a few days. They could have offloaded the horn and used up the darts. Nothing’s certain.”

  “What if it was the wrong group?” She swallowed. Deep down she’d wanted it to be these people, because the alternative was going up against one of the biggest, most organized poaching outfits in the country.

  “Then we’ll figure it out. If we need to go after them—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “We can’t mess with Bekker’s people.”

  “Why not?”

  “Bekker’s crew? They’re protected by powerful people.” She turned her back on Paxton and watched the staff carry the three new pangolins into the clinic.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said again.

  Coco bit her lip.

  Paxton slid his hand down to hers. “Is it possible Bekker’s crew could have hired Ebrahim?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Pax? Hey, Pax, give us a hand?”

  “You okay?” He edged closer.

  “Go.” Coco shooed him away.

  She needed a moment.

  The burst of noise and activity was dying down as the animals were sorted into urgent care and quarantine. She wanted to help out, but knew this vet team worked like a well-oiled machine. There wasn’t a place for her with them.

  Coco crossed to a bench situated up against the side of the main building and sat. She closed her eyes. That was the worst possible outcome she could imagine. And they’d just kicked one hornet’s nest. Did they want to tangle with the Bekker crew?

  No. Because she knew who funded them and why they were untouchable.

  Coco wrapped her arms around herself. She could still remember the day she’d come home feeling like she’d finally been seen, that she’d found a place. A boy had noticed her, and not just any boy, one of the cute, popular ones. She’d never forget gushing about him to Mom while they prepared dinner. Coco had been saying something, but then her twin had stepped into the kitchen and burst her bubble. He’d looked at her and told her to tell their mother her crush’s full name.

  Luke Nodorf.

  Mom hadn’t exactly forbid Coco from seeing Luke, but she’d never been happy when he came around. Coco hadn’t understood then what the Nodorf name meant, who they were. All she knew was that for a brief period of time, Coco was accepted by the popular girls. It hadn’t lasted long. When Luke broke up with her, Coco was right back to not having any friends. She’d learned that influence was power, and she wanted none of it.

  It was some weird, twisted turn of fate that her first boyfriend was the man funding a poaching outfit that threatened everything she stood for. If she could go back and warn her younger self, she’d do it. Nothing good had come from knowing Luke Nodorf.

  “Coco?”

  That voice, was she imagining it?

  She blinked a few times, focusing on the figure to her left. The lights only illuminated half his face, leaving the other cast in shadow.

  What was he doing here?

  He didn’t belong.

  She gripped the edge of the bench and frowned, wishing this waking dream to pass.

  He took a step toward her and slid his hands in his pockets. “I almost didn’t see you.”

  This wasn’t a dream.

  Her body went cold, and all that pent-up rage came boiling back.

  Coco stood and stared at him. She wished this was a dream. “What are you doing here, Cane?”

  “Looks like you’re busy.” He glanced at the cluster of black clad Americans then to her, also decked out in black clothing. At least she’d lost the mask. “I’m not going to ask what you’ve been up to.”

  “Typical.” She planted her hands on her hips.

  He leveled a serious stare at her. “Coco, don’t be like that.”

  “Well you didn’t come here to actually see me or find out how I’m doing, so what do you want?”

  “Can we not just have a calm conversation? We’re adults.”

  “I am calm.” She dug her nails into her jeans. “What do you want Cane? It’s been a long day.”

  “I want you to reconsider coming to my wedding. Mia wants you there. She wants to know the rest of my family. Don’t you think it’s time we moved on?”

  “Depends. Are you ready to own up to what you did? How you stole my college money? Seems to me being an adult is a lot of owning your mistakes.” Coco could feel the gap between her and Cane growing.

  This was the person who’d been through it all with her. As kids they’d been kept locked up in the apartment because of their mixed heritage. All those years they’d only had each other, and yet somewhere along the way Cane had changed. She didn’t know how or when, but he had.

  “Coco—”

  “I really do not have it in me to listen to you talk about how that money was put to better use getting you through school.” She held up her hands, as if she could fend off this conversation again. “You’re blinded by this self-righteous idea that you’re going to change the country with single-minded determination. There isn’t room for other people’s dreams around you. It’s suffocating. And I don’t want to be part of your wedding or your life, because you aren’t
the brother I remember. You aren’t my Cane.”

  “You aren’t even going to hear me out?” Now there was the anger, the answering rage they’d always been able to inspire in each other.

  “Are you going to say anything new? Anything I haven’t heard before? Because unless the words are, I’m sorry I’m an asshole, what’s the point? You have everyone convinced you’re some kind of advocate, that you speak for the poor and disenfranchised, but look at what you did to your own sister.” She spread her hands. “If you’d steal from me—your own family—what else would you do?”

  Coco had given in, she’d watched her brother on TV, the interviews, read the articles, and he always glossed over his family. People raved about him, and yet they didn’t know the truth. That Cane wasn’t the poster boy for a better tomorrow. He was human, just like the rest of them, but he couldn’t admit it.

  “Okay. Clearly coming here was a mistake. Sorry.” He turned, and just as he had several times before, he walked away.

  There was no fight, because he didn’t value their relationship enough to go toe-to-toe with her over it. They were just two people who’d shared the same womb and the first eighteen years of their lives. Nothing more.

  She stared into the darkness, waiting for him to change his mind, turn around and fight her. But he didn’t. He never had. Family just wasn’t important to him.

  Did his future wife know that?

  Coco took a deep, shuddering breath. Her insides were breaking apart. She covered her mouth to muffle the first sob and turned away from the people unaware of her impending breakdown. She groped blindly for the side entrance door, the one that led into the canteen.

  The cool air hit her tears, chilling them to Cane temperatures. Coco stumbled into the coffee cart already set up for the next morning. Something hit the ground. She blinked and was able to make out dozens of little white sugar packets.

  Because of course she would make a mess. That’s all she ever did these days, even when she wanted to do right.

  Coco went to a knee, her sobs sounding so much louder in the empty space.

  “What’s going on here?” a familiar, warm voice said out of the stillness.

  Guilt reared its head and sunk its teeth into Coco’s heart. She sat down on the tile, elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. Her brother was a stranger. Utata was gone. Everything she wanted was out of reach.

  “Coco? Why you crying, child?” Hands rough from years of work grasped her arms, sliding up and down.

  She didn’t deserve this kindness. For weeks now she’d avoided the canteen because she didn’t know what to say to Mrs. Pedersen. What could Coco say? How did she explain herself?

  “Come here, sweet child. Get up off that floor. Come on.” The older woman coaxed Coco to her feet and wrapped an arm around her.

  Mrs. Pedersen guided Coco through the eating area, past the serving line and into her domain. The kitchen. Mrs. Pedersen had worked at Mlilo almost since the beginning, cooking for thousands of people in this very kitchen. When they’d offered for her to move to the new resort she’d declined, saying this was where she belonged.

  She guided Coco to a chair situated near the stove and pushed her down onto it. A moment later she pressed a tissue into Coco’s hands, then turned away again, shuffling around the kitchen. Stainless steel bins were laid out along with knives.

  Meal prep.

  How many times had Coco finished up a long day working with Matthew only to come back here and steal bites of raw vegetables, regaling Mrs. Pedersen with stories from their day?

  Now Coco hardly came here at all. It hurt too much.

  Coco bit her lip, but a fresh wave of tears hit her. She bent forward and sobbed into the tissue. Matthew was gone. Her dreams for a different future were gone. Her relationship with her twin was gone. And now Utata was gone.

  What was next?

  Mrs. Pedersen grasped her hand and pressed a warm mug into it. “Get it all out, honey.”

  Coco inhaled the scent of peppermint. Another punch to the gut.

  Matthew had loved peppermint tea.

  Coco lifted the mug to her lips. She’d never cared for it, not until after he’d died. The taste was comforting, bringing back evenings spent discussing the books he’d had her read and the research she’d done.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there. Eventually her cup was empty, the ceramic cool, and her knees hurt from driving her elbows into the muscle. Her tears stopped, leaving her with a hollow feeling in her chest.

  The steady chop chop chop of Mrs. Pedersen’s knife helped ground Coco in the moment. She’d always been headed to this point, it was just happening amidst the onslaught of other things.

  “All cried out?” Mrs. Pedersen asked.

  “Yeah.” Coco set the mug on the counter and leaned back, stretching her still sore muscles.

  She pushed to her feet and crossed to the sink, turned the tap on and gave her hands and forearms a good scrub. If she was here, she might as well be useful.

  Coco circled the counter to the prep space. A knife and board waited for her along with a bag of avocados. It had been a month since Coco last showed up to help chop things.

  “What got you upset like that?” Mrs. Pedersen asked softly.

  “My brother showed up.” Coco sliced open the first avocado.

  “Did he now? What did he have to say?”

  “Nothing I hadn’t heard before.” Coco braced herself for the stab of pain. She might like to pretend she was okay with this divide between her and Cane, but she wasn’t.

  “Lacey says you aren’t excited about the scholarship.” Mrs. Pedersen kept slicing, never breaking rhythm.

  Coco glanced at the rear exit and for a moment thought about fleeing. But that would only put this conversation off even longer. And she was tired of not having this time with one of the few people who got her.

  “I just... I wanted to do this on my own. Prove myself, you know?” And if she’d been worthy, wouldn’t Matthew have sent off his letter while he was still alive? Why had he waited?

  “Who are you proving yourself to?”

  “I don’t know. Myself?”

  “And you don’t think you’re worthy already?”

  “It feels like a handout, okay? Here, let’s give the poor girl from Africa a scholarship to make ourselves look good.” Coco pried the pit out of the avocado with a satisfying yank.

  Mrs. Pedersen slapped her knife down on the counter and turned to face Coco. She was a tall woman, had always dwarfed her husband. He’d liked to say that it took a big body to contain her big heart.

  Coco swallowed and stared up into the other woman’s eyes. The woman who’d made a place for Coco when she didn’t feel at home with her own family. Mrs. Pedersen had always welcomed Coco with open arms, which made this prolonged silence even harder to justify in her head.

  “You are a stubborn child.” She swiped the apron over her hands. “I love you, but you’re so stubborn and determined to hurt yourself. I can’t watch you do this.”

  “I’m not—what—” Coco sputtered.

  Mrs. Pedersen leaned in closer. “What did Matthew tell us? Huh? When you’re hurt, you hurt others. I’m not saying your pain isn’t real, but you have to choose to heal. And that scholarship is well deserved. It’s not a handout. You’ve worked for it. You have no idea how many people pitched in to make a case for you, do you?”

  “Uh, hm, Lacey said there was a letter...”

  “Matthew had written a letter.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “He was going to hand-deliver it to someone he knew on the school board to talk to them about you, because he didn’t trust a written page to get his meaning across. You know who else wrote letters and made phone calls?”

  Coco swallowed, and it became hard to breathe.

  “Mandisa.” Mrs. Pedersen straightened. “She’s hard on you because she knows you want it. She believes in you. We all do.”

  The woman who ran Mlilo? Sh
e’d spoken on Coco’s behalf? Most of the time Coco thought Mandisa was one second away from firing her.

  “Daluxolo. Lacey. Every person who has worked here in the last eight years, they’ve all made a case for why we should believe in you. Why you deserve this chance.” Mrs. Pedersen thrust her finger in Coco’s face, leaning in close. “But you don’t see that because you’re convinced you have to do everything alone. I don’t know how my Matthew got through that stubborn head of yours, girl, but I wish I knew his secrets.”

  Coco swallowed. She blinked. She’d had no idea...

  “You act as if you’re a village of one, but you never turn around to see all the people who have your back. We’re here. We believe in you. But you don’t let us help you because you’re so stubborn.” Mrs. Pedersen reached out and wrapped her arms around Coco pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug.

  She hugged the woman, squeezing her tight.

  Mrs. Pedersen stepped back, holding Coco at arm’s length. “Baby, that brother of yours is a lot like you. You’re both stubborn, but here’s the deal. If you take this chance—and sweet girl if you don’t, my dearly departed husband will roll over in his grave—you have to let this thing with your brother go. He betrayed you and himself, but the only one hurting over it is you. That soft heart of yours is carrying around those toxic feelings, and I don’t want it to change you. You’re too good to change. It’s past time you woke up and saw that.”

  Coco’s knees gave way again, and she sat down on the old tile floor of the kitchen, her eyes too cried out to squeeze out another tear.

  17.

  Wednesday. Mlilo Animal Reserve, South Africa.

  Paxton knocked on Coco’s door again, but there was still no answer. She hadn’t responded to his texts or answered her phone. No one had seen her.

  He didn’t like this.

  She should have never gone with them. She was already an easily identified target. What if someone followed them? Or what if there was another person working here that informed the poachers?

  His gut clenched at the idea Coco could be out there fighting for her life and he was here, searching for her in places she’d never be found.