Consequence (The Confidence Game Duet Book 2)

by Rachel Higginson

  I shook my head. “You can’t. Even after all this time, even after you have Atticus in your own house, you still don’t get it.”

  “And you’re still the scared kid trapped in a prison of her own making. You have options, Caroline. You’ve always had options.”

  Someone knocked on the door, saving me from answering. An agent popped her head in and gestured to Mason.

  “Excuse me for a minute,” he said.

  “Can I check on Juliet please?”

  He stood up and eyed me suspiciously. But what could he do? I wasn’t a prisoner. I was here of my own volition. “Sure. Follow me.”

  I smiled at him, hoping to ease his doubt. He just stared at me, knowing I was up to something. Smart man.

  He took me to the breakroom where I found Juliet curled up on a couch with an agent on either side of her. She was totally relaxed now, unconcerned with her federal babysitters.

  Mason left to deal with his interruption, first ensuring that Jones knew to walk me back to the interrogation room when I was ready. I waved goodbye to his back. Oh, Mason, so predictable. So obtuse.

  “How are you doing, Jules?”

  She smiled without looking at me. “Good.”

  “Are you having fun?”

  She continued to stare at the TV. “Yep.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  She glanced at me quickly. “Can I have another juice box?”

  There were three boxes tipped over on the coffee table. My guess was the agents already gave her whatever she wanted. Nice of them, except they weren’t the ones that would have to take her potty every thirty minutes for the rest of the day.

  It was safe to say that the female agent didn’t have children and my suspicions that Jones was a grumpy, but secretly sweet grandpa were false.

  Jones had been ancient five years ago. And in the space of time since I’d seen him last, time had not treated him kindly. He was like a crotchety version of Father Time. But Juliet didn’t seem to mind him— the juice boxes probably had something to do with that.

  As soon as I felt that she was comfortable enough for me to leave again, I stepped back into the hallway.

  “I’m ready,” I told Jones.

  He struggled to his feet, his knees popping in the ascent. I suppressed a smile at the other, younger officer’s stunned look.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” I told him on the way back to the interrogation room. “I thought for sure they’d have forced you out by now. You know to make room for the younger, less arthritic agents.”

  He grunted but didn’t respond.

  “Do you have plans to retire soon? Or are you hoping to die from old age in the line of duty?”

  “Do you have plans to shut up? Or are you going to talk my damn ears off?”

  Same old Jones. “I’m just being polite.”

  He made that same irritated noise. “Child, I have known you a long time. I have never known you to be polite.”

  “That goes both ways, old man.”

  He shot me a look over his shoulder just as we reached the interrogation room. He opened the door and held it for me.

  My fingers twitched in anticipation.

  I walked past him, offering him the sweetest smile and swiping his keycard as I went. I slid it up my sleeve before the surveillance camera or a person standing on the other side of the glass could realize what I did.

  It was a clean nick. My fingers were quick, flawless, light as feathers. And Jones was as oblivious as always. So that probably helped.

  “Mason’ll be back in a minute,” he snarled.

  I casually sat down at the table and crossed my legs. “No hurry.”

  Ten minutes passed before Mason returned. I killed the time by playing an innocuous game on my phone and pretending it didn’t bother me at all that Mason was wasting my precious time.

  He walked into the room with a straight face, giving nothing away. “Sorry about that.”

  Shrugging, I put my phone back in my purse, discreetly sending a text message before sealing it in a plastic baggie. I sat back up and gave him my full attention. “I’m sure you had something very important to do. Like cleaning up the streets… putting the bad guys behind bars... restoring justice to this evil, depraved city. Oh, wait. You hand out immunity like it’s candy these days. The bad guys don’t have to go to prison anymore, they get pats on the back and FBI protection.”

  He let out an impatient breath. “Give me a break, Valero.”

  “Do you know what Atticus has done? Do you know what a freaking psychopath he is? I mean, beyond kidnapping my daughter, he’s been involved in some pretty messed up shit. He belongs in prison with the rest of his brothers.”

  “I agree with you,” Mason said patiently. “But that’s not up to me.”

  “Then you’ve taken away my choice too.”

  “For the last time, we can protect you. We can put you somewhere he’ll never find—”

  “See? That’s why you can’t protect me, Payne. You’re still underestimating him. You’re still bumbling idiots.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak the sprinklers sputtered on, spraying water everywhere.

  We both reacted terribly to the sudden sensation of being drenched. We hopped to our feet and then covered our ears when the fire alarm started blaring.

  “What the hell?” Mason shouted over the deafening sound.

  “Juliet!” I screeched, panic-stricken.

  Mason’s face reflected his resignation. He turned and yanked open the door. “This way.”

  We rushed through fleeing, confused agents, abandoning their desks to hurry single file down the stairwells. Mason got me to the breakroom in record time. Jones was trying to corral a hysterical and recently traumatized four-year-old toward the stairs, but Juliet wasn’t having any of it.

  As soon as she saw me, she took off running for my arms. I scooped her up and pressed her against my chest, kissing her temple as water dumped on us from the ceiling. I turned to Mason. “Did Gus ever show up?”

  His look of surprise was priceless. “Shit. Take care of them, Jones.” He took off running back to the interrogation rooms.

  We didn’t wait for Jones. I pushed into the crowd, quickly losing our babysitter in the crush of people.

  I followed the crowd around the room passing two of the big offices. Neither were Mason’s. Either he had lied to me or it was on the other side of the office.

  Ducking down, I hurried behind abandoned cubicles, dodging straggling agents. “Shh, Juliet.” She cried harder. My heart pounded and adrenaline raced in my veins. I needed her to be quiet. “If you stop crying, I’ll buy you a puppy.”

  Her wails stopped abruptly. Although, she couldn’t stop sniffling and shivering. “You promise?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah. If we get through this, you can have as many puppies as you want.” Okay, that part wasn’t true. We’d definitely start with one puppy. Also, for the record, I wasn’t proud of bribing Juliet. But desperate times and all that. “I just need one minute, baby girl. Then we’ll get out of here.”

  I found Mason’s office in the last corner. It was big. Sayer must have helped him get a significant promotion. No wonder he was so worried about losing the Volkov.

  Using Jones’s keycard, I unlocked the door and covered my hand with my sleeve before I pushed inside. I sat Juliet on his chair and reminded her to be quiet.

  It was quieter in here, even though the sprinklers continued to sputter water. The fire alarm was muffled. Agents ran past the windows, but they didn’t bother to check inside Mason’s office—a good thing since I needed to use it for a few minutes.

  Think, Caro, if I were Mason’s important files, where would I be?

  Mason was all practical rule following and by the books pragmatism. He wasn’t creative. And he wasn’t especially clever. He just did what needed to be done without any extra fluff. If I were some of Mason’s most important papers, where would I hide
?

  Desk.

  It has to be his desk.

  I squatted by Juliet and retrieved a bobby pin from her hair. Quickly picking the locked drawer, I yanked it open and found exactly what I wanted—the super thick file on the Volkov crime family. Bingo.

  Using the underside of his desk as shelter, I tossed the extensive file into my purse and zipped it closed. I grabbed Juliet’s hand and we stealthily slipped back into the hallway.

  Holy hell, the file made my purse weigh approximately one thousand pounds, but I couldn’t worry about that now. Juliet kept pace with me as we lunged back in line with the last remaining agents.

  They cast curious looks, but since we stayed with them to the staircase, they didn’t say anything.

  I made Juliet walk down the stairs and grip the railing carefully, so it took us even longer to get to the bottom where Jones was waiting for us.

  “Where the hell did you two disappear to?” He was furious.

  “How dare you,” I spat back. “Juliet is terrified.” I leaned toward him, a mama bear ready to attack. “And you have the audacity to ask us to walk down flights of stairs soaking wet? Do you know how slippery that was?” I clipped the keycard back to his sweater without him being any wiser. “Do you know how badly we could have gotten hurt?” I took a step back, hoisting my purse up to my shoulder. “I am so sick of this crap from you guys. If Mason wants to talk to me again, he knows where to find me. Until then I have to go comfort my traumatized daughter.”

  Jones grasped for something to say but couldn’t think of anything quickly enough. In the end he let me walk away. With a firm hold on Juliet’s hand, I marched to the street and pushed through hundreds of people surrounding FBI headquarters. Sirens blared in the distance while people speculated all along the sidewalks what had caused the fire.

  I caught sight of Gus across the street. We shared a look and I nodded once. He winked at me and turned in the other direction. I hurried along, picking streets to turn down at random, finally hailing a cab when I was confident nobody had followed us.

  Juliet and I collapsed on the rough backseat and curled into each other for warmth. I gave the address for Sayer’s apartment and assured Juliet we would get something to eat after we had a hot shower.

  Once she was calmer, I sent the text to set up a meeting with Atticus.

  I heard back almost immediately. He would meet me tonight.

  The foundation was laid. The approach had been set. Now it was time for the build-up.

  The vibration from my cell phone, signaling the incoming text, sent a chill straight to my bones that had nothing to do with being soaked and just narrowly escaping the FBI building. I didn’t want to face Atticus. I didn’t want to deal with him at all. It didn’t matter that he was the mark or that I had set out to destroy him. He was trying to do the same to me.

  And I was afraid his will was stronger.

  Until I could be sure that we could make him disappear forever, I would perform this necessary evil.

  I would give him enough to believe I was still keeping my commitment to the Volkov. I would play obedient and keep up the con. And then I’d hit him with the hurrah that his whole fucking world was rocked.

  Meaning, this plan better work. After what I’d just managed to pull off, whatever remained of Mason’s goodwill toward me was likely used up. My past sins might have been grudgingly forgiven, but today’s stunt was brand new and there would be consequences to pay. And I knew without a doubt that Mason wouldn’t hesitate to use it to put me behind bars for the rest of my life.

  Chapter Twenty

  It had been a long time since I’d met anyone in a back alley. The beginning of my life seemed to be one big conglomeration of back alley meetings and dark deals. But in recent years, I’d managed to avoid them altogether.

  There was a certain blissful freedom that came with not having to meet strangers or assholes near reeking dumpsters and rat-infested backstreets. Not only physically, but emotionally as well. I didn’t even know anyone that wanted to meet in an alley in Frisco. They were people that spent their lives in the light, totally out in the open. I wanted to go back to that place, to that town, to the part of my life where I didn’t have to hide.

  However, here I stood. Waiting on another seedy criminal, surrounded by the wet brick walls of two surrounding buildings and the stench of the nearest dumpster.

  God, I hated these places. And this one in particular had a certain level of disgusting that made me want to hurry home and take a shower.

  To be honest, I wanted to hurry home. That was where Juliet was. That was where Sayer was. That was where the people I loved were. That was where I belonged.

  It was a small miracle that I had managed to convince Sayer to stay home during this exchange. He had been adamant that he would accompany me to deal with Atticus, but Atticus had been equally resolute that Sayer wasn’t invited.

  Sayer was a traitor according to Atticus and the entire brotherhood, and no longer invited to brotherhood affairs. If Sayer showed up with me, Atticus would shoot us both. If Sayer showed up in the vicinity, Atticus would shoot me first and Sayer second. Then he’d hammered his point home by reminding Sayer of what it was like to be an orphan… and did we really want to make Juliet one?

  Sayer had reluctantly stayed with Juliet and sent Cage and Gus in his place. They flanked me as we waited for Atticus to arrive. I knew both of them were carrying guns and were trained how to use them, but the weapons didn’t make me any less nervous.

  Atticus never needed a weapon to hurt me before.

  He’d threatened everything in my life using nothing but his bare hands.

  That led me to the second risk I faced—killing him before it was time.

  If he happened to show up to our meeting alone and unarmed, this would turn into the perfect opportunity to take him out, but that wasn’t going to happen. We had to bide our time, trust the Irish and wait for the perfect opportunity, the one that wouldn’t fail.

  We couldn’t afford to fail.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Gus asked when Atticus appeared at the end of the alley.

  No. I wasn’t going to be okay. I was the farthest thing from okay. This man, aside from being an aggressive bully my entire life, had taken my daughter. Kidnapped her. And held her against her will. My hands shook, and my stomach twisted into a tight ball. I wanted to puke. I also wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until his head popped off. Most of all, I wanted Sayer. I wanted him here with me, holding my hand, promising vengeance and righteous retribution. But I couldn’t say that to Gus, so instead, I turned the question on him. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’d be better if you let me shoot the bastard.”

  Cage made a tutting sound like a mother hen. “Game faces, ladies and gentlemen. I’m assuming these are our guests.”

  I hugged the FBI file to my chest and waited for Atticus to approach us. Nerves mingled with fury, zinging through my blood. My vision darkened at the edges as I struggled to hone my anger into useful fuel.

  As we’d anticipated, Atticus brought an entire brigade with him. Three men on each side, weapons glinting from where they pulled back their coats. The moonlight winked against their shiny barrels and I shrunk deeper into the alley.

  “Easy now,” Cage soothed as if I were a spooked horse.

  “Well, well, well,” Atticus crooned from five feet away. “The prodigal daughter returns.”

  That was it. The final straw. His corny power play was too much for me to handle. Somebody give me their gun, I was going to shoot this moron right now.

  “Look at you, Caro,” he continued. “Still as obedient as ever. What a good little soldier you are.”

  “I heard an interesting rumor about you today,” I countered, hating how his insult seemed to land right in the center of my chest.

  Atticus narrowed his eyes and glared at me. “I’m sure your FBI buddy knows lots of interesting things about me. I have to be hone
st though, I’m surprised to see you here. I was sure Payne’s blue balls for you are making him insane. I didn’t think he’d let you go once he got his hands on you.”

  “He’s not after me.”

  Atticus smirked. “He’s not after me either.”

  Wow. I couldn’t believe he was flaunting his immunity in front of all his guys. They would turn on him in half a second if they knew he was not only working with another family, but also the FBI. None of these guys could even hope for a plea deal after the DA got a catch like Atticus.

  “You know, that’s one thing I never did.” I glanced around at the men with Atticus. I recognized a few of them, but I had never really known them when I was part of the bratva. They had been involved in other ventures. Like murdering. And running drugs. And illegal women. Jobs I wanted nothing to do with.

  “What’s that?” Atticus asked.

  “Snitched to the feds.”

  His lip curled back, baring his teeth to me. “Careful, Valero. I don’t have patience for self-righteous whores.” I crushed the urge to snap his neck even though it went against everything in me. I wanted to end this fool, gut him from throat to balls.

  “Call me a whore one more time…” I dared him.

  He winked at me, then moved his attention to Gus. “Hey there, little brother. It’s been a while.”

  Gus shrugged. “Has it? I hadn’t noticed.”

  Atticus stilled, his expression frozen, plastic. “You have a responsibility, Augustus. You have a job. You should try doing it once in a while. Remind us why we need you around. Remind us why we shouldn’t consider you a traitor too.”

  Gus was a stone pillar next to me, totally still and unmoving. I felt that shift in him again, the one that whispered how similar to Atticus he could be if he didn’t restrain the psycho that was buried deep within him. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to Atticus, and I instinctively knew it was as a kindness to me. He couldn’t trust his words or his actions. He chose silence so I could finish what I came here to do.

  I tapped the file in my arms. It was still damp from the sprinklers, but most of the information had been saved. We’d heard on the news that the fed headquarters were still trying to recover from the fluke in the system that accidentally set the sprinklers off and caused total mayhem for their office building today. It would be a very costly and totally inconvenient recovery.