Consequence (The Confidence Game Duet Book 2)

by Rachel Higginson

  I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t manage anything around the giant lump in my throat. He was terrifying like this, totally, one hundred percent hard and intimidating. This wasn’t the Sayer I remembered. This was the Sayer changed by prison and loss. This was the man he had become when we were apart.

  Shaking fingers gripped the seat beneath me and I didn’t know whether to leap from the car or throw my arms around Sayer and apologize. I settled on a chin-trembling nod.

  He leaned closer. “I’m going to kiss you now. You might be afraid of me Caroline, but you’re also still very much in love with me. You need to be reminded of that.”

  I opened my mouth to protest and tell him this was the exact wrong time to do any of that, but before I could form a word, his lips were on mine, his tongue tangling with mine. There wasn’t a sweet, gentle warm up. There was only the same aggression he put into everything he did, the same drive and complete focus and utter seduction.

  His grip stayed tight on the back of my neck, but his other hand gentled against the side of my face, holding me like I was the most precious thing he had ever touched. His teeth grazed over my bottom lip before his tongue followed, soothing the slight sting. He delved it into my mouth, tasting me, enticing me to kiss him back, proving that he was right.

  I melted into him, unable to resist the electrifying sensation that sparked to life between us. This wasn’t just nostalgic youth coaxing me into a false sense of familiar. This was the entire reason I fell in love with Sayer to begin with. Because he was addicting. Because I had never been able to stay away from him. Because this kiss alone was enough to completely undo me.

  When I responded, kissing him with the same kind of hunger he had, his kisses became more insistent, more challenging. I met him move for move, finding this new push and pull between us completely exhilarating. The butterflies were back, sending powerful tingles to my fingertips. I pressed my thighs together in a desperate attempt not to get distracted by the hot sensation in my core.

  As if sensing my struggle, his hand landed on my kneecap and pushed upward, his fingers dipping between my thighs.

  “Sayer,” I gasped as his lips moved to the line of my jaw and the column of my throat.

  “Fuck, Caro,” he growled, nipping at my collarbone with his teeth. “Every time with you. Every fucking time it’s like this.”

  I sucked in a shaky breath, ready to concede his point when his phone rang, blaring through the Jeep with a cold dose of reality. We both jumped at the sound before his forehead landed on my shoulder in frustration.

  He reached for the console where he’d dropped his cell when we first got into the car. With his head still resting on my shoulder, he bit out a, “Yeah?” into the speaker.

  Struggling to catch my breath and sense of reality, I listened to Sayer’s one-sided conversation.

  “Yeah, you caught me at a bad time,” Sayer growled at the other person. “This better be good.”

  A pause as he listened.

  He sat up, fully at attention. Without a word or glance at me, he moved back to his seat and slammed the car into drive again. “Where?” he demanded. “You’re sure?” More listening. I had the sharp realization that they were talking about Juliet. I leaned forward, intent on hearing every word coming from Sayer’s side. “Meet me at her apartment.” Another pause. “We’re on our way there now. Gus is already there… Okay… See you soon.”

  He clicked off the phone, but kept it in his hand as he continued to deftly navigate the dark streets of Frisco. The moon was nowhere to be found tonight and the sparse streetlights mingled with thick-branched trees cast the small town into an abyss of black nothing. The flurries had stopped already—nothing covering the ground. Sayer’s headlights were so bright they felt indecent in a city that preferred to stay hidden.

  “Who was that?” I demanded.

  “A friend,” Sayer answered simply.

  My eyes narrowed. “The same friend that has been watching me for four years?”

  He cast me a quick side glance. “Are you going to fight me every second I’m not trying to fuck you, Caro? Or can we work together on this? Because if you need me to remind you again of your real feelings we’re almost to your place.”

  I slammed back in my seat, folding my arms defiantly over my chest. “Threatening me with sex isn’t going to get you out of this.”

  “I don’t want to get out of this.” He pulled the Jeep into my underground parking garage, punching in the code like he belonged here. My mouth went dry at his words and his actions. “I want to be in this. All the way in this. With you. And with Juliet. Remember that next time you want to throw a temper tantrum instead of focusing on finding our daughter.”

  I floundered to find words while he parked the Jeep in my spot and turned the car off. I was still flailing for something to say by the time he’d opened my door and helped me out. The beep-beep of his alarm went off and he led me to the elevator. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he punched the button for my floor or when he walked straight to my apartment door. But I was. I couldn’t help it.

  This was shocking. Sayer was… unnerving. I felt totally upended. And my daughter was still missing.

  There was a hell of a lot to process and I had no idea where to start.

  Frankie opened the door before I had a chance to look for my keys. I walked into her arms and she immediately pulled me into a tight hug.

  “How are you doing?” she asked with her cheek pressed to my head.

  “She’s fine,” Sayer answered for me as he prowled into the apartment, all armed for war and ready to kill.

  Frankie stepped back and glared at Sayer. “She looks like she’s been crying.”

  He didn’t spare her a glance. “Juliet’s missing, Francesca. Use your head.”

  Frankie whipped around to face me again. “Has he been giving you shit? Has he been a total asshole?”

  I chewed my bottom lip that was already in shreds and tried to ignore the increasingly nauseous feeling spreading through me. “He’s been…” Helpful. Horrible. Tempting. Angry. Right. Secretive. Protective. Argumentative. Annoying. Completely irresistible. “Fine.”

  Sayer spun around, mid-text, to raise an arrogant eyebrow at Frankie. “She’s three seconds from falling down on her knees in gratitude. So don’t let her fine fool you.”

  Frankie looked back to me, irritation vibrating off her. “Why were we ever friends with these two morons?”

  I stepped back and ran a frustrated hand over my face. It had been hours since Juliet had gone missing. Hours. And we hadn’t made one step forward. We were dogs chasing our tails at this point. “I need to…” I trailed off when a knock pounded against my door. My heart jolted, jumpstarting into a sprint. My mind spun with a hundred different possibilities. Police? Russians? Juliet?

  Sayer stepped forward and opened the door, unafraid of who was on the other side. A man I didn’t recognize stepped inside my apartment and greeted Sayer with familiarity. I blinked at him, trying to make him fit in my space. He didn’t. He was as masculine a man as I had ever seen, all hard lines and tough exterior. He wore faded jeans and a worn, gray hooded sweatshirt filled out by bulky arms and a barrel chest. His square jaw sported a few days of stubble and his green eyes were piercing, calculating, laser-sharp.

  Frankie and I weren’t overly feminine with our apartment décor, but compared to this man we were nothing but pink ruffles and white satin. He didn’t belong here among Juliet’s toys and Frankie’s pile of discarded designer stilettos. He was likely to break whatever he touched.

  “This is Cage,” Sayer said to the room. “A friend of mine.”

  Cage. The name sounded familiar. Josh Cage. “The private detective.” It was an accusation, an insult. This was the man that had watched me for four years until Sayer could get here. The man that had handed over all of my information to Sayer so he could find me. The man I was starting to believe was responsible for Atticus finding us. Another layer of my sanity crack
ed.

  The man’s intuitive gaze moved to mine. “Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed. “I’m also a former Navy Seal. I know how to find your daughter.”

  I made a sound in the back of my throat. “I’m trying not to blame you for her being gone in the first place,” I told him, unafraid of his size or strength or cruel visage. “You found her for Sayer, didn’t you? You probably led the bratva straight to us.”

  His jaw ticked, but he remained calm, collected. I got the feeling he was used to dealing with angry females. That didn’t exactly endear him to me. “I understand you’re upset, Ms. Valero, but I had nothing to do with your daughter’s disappearance. Up until a few months ago, it had been my job to make sure nothing like this happened to you. Or her. And under my watch, nothing did happen.”

  The subtle dig at Sayer was more than my fragile emotional state could handle. I didn’t know whether to stand up for Sayer against this stranger or push the blame further on him. It was all pointless though. I was the reason nothing was getting done. I had to get myself together or I was only going to stand in the way of progress.

  “We can talk about what happened under your watch later,” I conceded. “How are you going to find my daughter?”

  “Why don’t we sit down,” Sayer suggested, moving Cage out of the entryway and to our eat-in kitchen table where Gus was already seated.

  He jumped up and held the chair out for me. I collapsed into it and tried to shake off the fury coating my body like a second skin. It was okay to be angry, but I needed to channel my emotions into useful weapons.

  I cleared my throat, rubbed my eyes and prepared for an adult conversation with men willing to help me find Juliet. It was time to turn the crazy down and focus.

  Cage, who didn’t know me at all, gave me an assessing look. “You good? Ready to get started?”

  Biting back a bitchy retort, I said, “Tell me what I need to know.”

  Sayer sat down next to me and rested his hand on the back of my chair, leaning into me. “Cage has confirmed that Atticus took Juliet.”

  Cage nodded. “He stayed in town at Hotel Frisco for the last two nights. He checked out this morning, killed some time this afternoon and grabbed your daughter. Once he had Juliet, he, and whoever his accomplice was, left straightaway. It doesn’t seem as though he tried to hide his identity as he stayed under his name and used his credit cards around town. Mostly at gas stations, a couple places to eat and a grocery store. As far as I can tell he didn’t rent a car in Colorado. My guys are pulling security footage right now of all the places his credit card was used in order to determine who he was traveling with. It would seem someone of the same line of work, most likely someone belonging to the Volkov, but we want to be sure. And we want to find out exactly who was with him.”

  “So where did he go?” I demanded. “If he left town right away, where did he take my daughter?”

  Cage shared an uneasy look with Sayer before meeting my gaze again. “We have no reason to believe he would take Juliet for any other reason than to get to you.” He flicked another glance to Sayer, and then to Frankie and Gus. “And the rest of you. He didn’t take Juliet because he wants a child. He took her so you would engage with your former employers.”

  I had assumed as much on my own. But that meant facing a difficult truth. “You think he’s taking her back to DC?”

  Cage nodded. “We have no reason to believe he’d take her anywhere else. In the last five years, Atticus has traveled outside of the city but only for business and never to the same place twice. He doesn’t own property anywhere else, not even under his aliases. He has no reason to go anywhere else.”

  It still didn’t make sense. “But what’s waiting for him in DC? The bratva is shut down. The pakhan are in prison.”

  “Not yet,” Cage added, then quickly clarified. “What I mean is that they’re being held, but they have yet to be sentenced.”

  I swung around to glare at Sayer. “They haven’t been sentenced yet?”

  “It’s as good as done,” Sayer ground out. “They’re being held without bail. They’re already incarcerated. They’re finishing up trial next month. The jury has endless proof. The case is as good as over.”

  “Except that it’s not over!” I reminded him. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

  Sayer flinched and I knew he felt the weight of responsibility. His head dipped and his body went taut. “I should have waited—”

  “You’re damn right you should have waited!” I exploded, pushing up from the table and stumbling away from him. He had brought the Russian bratva down on my daughter, on Frankie. On me. He had brought them to my home and ripped it apart.

  He looked up at me, his face a mysterious armored mask. I had no idea what he was thinking. I had no idea if he felt remorse or guilt or anything. “We have to go get her, Caro. You have to go back to the city.”

  The decision tasted like ash on my tongue, sulfur and cinders. I knew the answer already. Of course I would go back. I would go to the seventh circle of hell for my daughter. But, God, I’d hate every second of it. I’d escaped that city once. I’d risked everything, given up everything to get out.

  It had nearly killed me. If not physically, then emotionally. And now I would have to go back and face everything I left behind. I would have to pay for my sins.

  I would have to answer to the long con I couldn’t complete.

  “Fine,” I whispered, unable to make my voice stronger. “We’ll go back to DC. We’ll get Juliet back. And then I’m getting the hell out of there. I’m done with this life. I’m done with the pakhan, and the bratva, and everything Russian. Nothing can make me stay there.”

  Unable to meet Sayer’s eyes for fear of what I would see in them, I looked over my shoulder at Frankie and saw unfiltered fear reflecting in her black eyes. “You don’t have to go, Francesca. Sayer, Gus and I can handle everything.”

  “Cage is coming too,” Sayer added, gentling his voice for my friend in a way he had never done for me. “If you want to stay here, you can.”

  She shook her head, her entire body shivering. “No. I’ll go. I’m in this, Caroline. I would do anything for Juliet.”

  Cage looked around at our group. I didn’t know what he saw or what he was looking for, but after a prolonged silence, he finally nodded. “Our flight is in three hours. Pack what you need and I’ll have my guy finalize our tickets. Keep in mind that whatever weapons you think you need, we can pick up once we land. Make our flight easy and painless. I don’t want to be delayed because someone got picked up by airport security. We’re just normal, fun-loving friends taking a trip together.”

  At that, Frankie and I let out twin sighs of irritation. Meeting Cage’s cold green eyes once again, I finally pulled up the tough veneer I had worked to build all my life. “Despite my moment of weakness, Mr. Cage, I’m a professional. It might have been a few years since I’ve used any of my talents, but I was raised to bullshit. It’s what I excel at.”

  He nodded. “I guess time will tell.”

  I turned from him and faced Sayer again. His hands fell on my knees as he leaned in, ignoring the still simmering animosity between us.

  “I can go, Six. You don’t have to face them again. Let me get her and bring her back here.”

  I shook my head, forming an answer that didn’t sound like I still blamed him for everything. “I can’t. I physically can’t hang back while my daughter is with that psycho. I have to do something or I’ll go insane.”

  His mask cracked and I saw real concern in his deep blue eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready to face them again?”

  “No,” I breathed the confession. “But I would do anything for her, Sayer.”

  His gaze held. “I know what that’s like.” He was gone in the next second, pulled away and distant once more. “Pack light, girls. We’re leaving here in ten minutes.”

  Frankie and I hurried to our rooms, obeying. I grabbed everything I thought I would need and threw it into a carry-on bag. Anything
I didn’t bring with me I could buy there. I made sure to include a practical all-black outfit and running shoes. I also grabbed some essentials out of Juliet’s room for when we got her back, including her baby blanket that she still slept with and her toothbrush and toothpaste.

  I had just enough time to change my clothes into leggings and a long-sleeved jersey dress. I plunged my feet into motorcycle boots and grabbed a soft leather jacket for the plane. I needed a shower. And a nap, but now wasn’t the time for either.

  Meeting Sayer in the living room of our apartment, my gut churned with the strangeness of being in the same room of my home with him after all this time. Regardless of what happened in DC, Sayer Wesley was now permanently affixed in my life.

  I had run as far away as I could from him only to find myself more tied to him than ever before. Our futures were permanently tangled together now.

  For however long they lasted.

  Chapter Five

  Sayer

  Fifteen Years Ago

  I walked into the house with the collar of my coat high around my chin. It was a hand-me-down from Atticus, but I didn’t mind. Gus was almost the same size as me, but the derzhatel obschaka—the bookkeeper—bought him everything new. As he should.

  Gus and Atticus had the right to new things. This was their home. He was their father. I was the stray dog that slept in the guest suite. Hand-me-downs were a welcome gift.

  One that I would gladly accept if it meant never having to return to the streets. Or worse, to the bastard Irish. Or even worse than that, foster care.

  My list of worsts could go on and on.

  I had no shortage of worsts.

  The relentless sleet had soaked through the top of my coat, dampening my shoulders and sending a chill to my bones. I’d been standing outside for hours, shivering beneath the gray, dripping sky. It felt good to be home.

  My feet tripped over themselves as I realized that was the first time I had ever thought that. It was the first time I had been relieved to walk in my front door.

  Gus hated it here. His old man was a real piece of work, but what father wasn’t? Ozzie Usenko was a tough ass bastard. He parented with ice cold dominance, cruel expectations and the occasional backhand. Atticus and Gus had no idea how good they had it. And while I had tried to explain to Gus that his dad wasn’t really that bad, he didn’t believe me.