by Mia Sheridan
Josh clicked off the recorder, his eyes never moving from Bakos. He sent the file to Dylan, and his phone dinged a second later saying Dylan had gotten it and that the file was good.
None of us moved as Josh watched Bakos, a storm of disgust moving through his eyes. I glanced down to his hand and I saw it fist, but I didn't stop him. Josh moved forward like lightening and punched him in the face, Bakos' head whipping back, and blood flying out his nose. His head lolled on his neck–he was out cold.
Josh turned around, his jaw clenching as he shook his hand out. "Holy shit. Hidden rooms with trap doors? He got me with some Scooby Doo shit." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small, humorless laugh.
I shook my head. I was sure he was affected by hearing how the girl we had come to rescue, had ended up shot in the head. So was I. I clapped him lightly on his shoulder. "Let's go, Shaggy. I believe we have a delivery for the head prosecutor on your case. Call the police and give 'em the address where they can find this waste of space." I indicated my head back towards a now unmoving Bakos. "Let's move," I said quietly.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling around the corner as we heard the sirens moving in the direction of the warehouse.
CHAPTER 36
Two weeks later
Grace
I pulled my dress up my hips and smiled into the mirror. The last two weeks had gone by in a whirlwind. A happy whirlwind, but an intense one.
After presenting the videotape evidence to Larry, we brought it to the judge and the murder case against Josh was dismissed a couple days later. Bakos was taken into custody. Although he attempted to recant what he had said on tape, claiming it was taken under duress and he had lied to save the lives of his family, the evidence found in the warehouse and his computer system was far too overwhelming. The murder he had framed Josh for was only one of the charges filed against him.
Larry, my boss, the D.A., had come to me the next day and asked me if I would trust him to present an idea to his contacts and good friends, higher-ups in the police department.
And so on a cold, drizzly Sunday in the beginning of January, Carson, Josh, Leland and Dylan had sat behind closed doors for three hours, while I chewed my nails to the quick and jumped every time my cell phone rang.
Finally, when I was so wound up, I didn't think I could wait a second longer, there was a knock on my door and when I swung it open, Carson was standing in my doorway, grinning at me.
I had squealed and jumped into his arms, kissing his face again and again. "They agreed?" I asked.
"Yup. You're looking at not just a member, but also the leader, of the Vegas P.D. Sexual Trafficking Task Force. First of its kind."
I sucked in a breath and tears came to my eyes. Larry had listened to my story about how I had come by the tape and although I didn't say that I knew the names of the group members other than Josh, he didn't ask. A couple days later, he had come to me and asked me if I thought I could contact them with an opportunity. People he trusted wanted to talk to them.
It turned out that the police department didn't have a budget for their own task force, but they were very interested in getting behind one that took care of its own training and own budget. They wanted to do more in the world of trafficking but their hands were tied. And so Carson and the guys now had the full support of law enforcement behind them, without having to strictly work within the guidelines of the police department. That last part may not have been spelled out exactly, but it was understood.
Carson and the guys would still focus on rescuing the victims, and they would still put them up at the hotel while their transport home was being arranged. But now they could also focus more energy and effort on tracking the location of the people in charge of the crime, and turning them over to the police without raising questions. It was still a dangerous job, but I would rest easier knowing that it was a legitimate operation, and although there were plenty of risks, a possible prison sentence wasn't one of them.
Trafficking crime in Vegas was already lower because of their team. Word had gotten around that Vegas wasn't the best place to do business if human beings were your commodity. But unfortunately, it would never stop completely. It was a sad truth that where there was money to be made, there would always be someone to sell their soul to the devil.
But my heart belonged to one of the good guys, and his heart belonged to me.
Work had picked up for me too. I was given the case of prosecuting Bakos, my first actual murder trial, or at least the first one that would end up going to court. Once the trafficking charges came to light, the case was suddenly thrust into the limelight, both on a local level, but also on a national level. I didn't necessarily love being involved in something high profile, but I was glad that human trafficking was being discussed. People needed to know the reality of it, if they were going to be inspired to help the cause.
Alex had decided to take the job in San Francisco after all. We had sat down and talked, and he had assured me that it wasn't solely because of our break-up, but that he thought it would be a good thing for both of us anyway. I wished him nothing but happiness. He was a good man–he just wasn't the man for me.
I took a deep breath and finished my hair and makeup. As I was putting on my charm bracelet, I heard a knock at my door.
I opened it and there he was, standing before me in all his masculine beauty. I leaned my head to the side, and rested it against the open door as I held it steady. I sighed in appreciation as I took him in; gray, suit pants, black, dress shoes, and a light blue, dress shirt.
He grinned. "You look beautiful, Buttercup."
I smiled back. "Thank you, Agent Stinger." I winked, opening the door wider for him to pass through.
I closed the door and he gathered me in his arms and kissed me as I brought my hands up to his hair, a little longer now, more like it had been the first time we met. I felt its silky texture under my fingers and thought about the first time he had kissed me, on that elevator, a million years ago.
I pulled my lips away from his and gazed up into those hazel eyes, thinking about who he had been, and what he had become, a fierce pride swelling in my heart.
"What?" he asked, his eyes moving over my face.
"You," I said, my face growing serious. "You're stunning. On the outside, but even more so on the inside. The world is a better place with you in it, Carson Stinger," I whispered.
His eyes glittered down at me. "I love you, Grace Hamilton."
I smiled at him. "I love you too."
He smiled back. "Ready to go celebrate?"
I grabbed my purse off my counter. "Yup."
Twenty minutes later, we were walking into the bar at the Bellagio where I had walked away from Carson Stinger, Straight Male Performer, all those years ago.
Josh was there, busy hitting on a pair of blondes sitting at the bar, and Leland and Dylan were sitting at a table, chatting.
Carson started pulling me and as we approached the table, the men turned and smiled, calling out to me and Carson, Dylan saying, "Hey Prosecutor!"
When the first round of drinks came, Leland raised his glass first and looked around at the guys. "To Ara," he said, "Always."
"To Ara," they all said. And we all raised our glasses and toasted in memory to the girl whose life and death inspired a whole group of good men to go to radical lengths to save others like her. It was her legacy, her last gift to the world. And it meant that she hadn't died in vain.
We laughed and talked and celebrated that night. Celebrated all they had accomplished, all they had overcome, and all that they would always work to vindicate.
As Dylan was in the middle of telling a story, I caught Carson's eye and I smiled. As he smiled back, his eyes warm and happy, I thought back to our first exchange in this very bar, and how I had thought I hated him. I looked at the same man in front of me now, the man I knew I never wanted to live without. And I thought to myself, life is wild.
* * *
Carson
I hung up the phone and sat at my desk thinking about the call I had just been on. I had spoken with the Houston Chief of Police. He wanted us to organize a similar task force in their city, as human trafficking was a growing crime demographic, and they simply didn't have the resources to address it.
I'd have to talk to Leland, but I thought it was a good possibility that we could get something going there, maybe not just in Houston, but in other cities as well. He had a lot of contacts–wealthy contacts–that would have the means to fund an operation like ours.
Leland was out today, and so I opened my computer and started composing an email that he would see tomorrow morning, outlining all my thoughts on the proposal, making sure I wrote it all down while it was still fresh in my mind.
Twenty minutes later, I heard a small knock on my door and called, "Come in."
Grace peeked in and smiled and I grinned back at her. "Hey baby, this is a nice surprise."
"I brought lunch." She smiled, holding up a couple of takeout bags. "Hot dogs."
I laughed. "God, that sounds good. How'd you know I love hot dogs?" I asked teasingly, as she placed the bags down and walked around my desk to sit on my lap.
"Oh, I know everything about you, Carson Stinger," she said, a glint in her eye.
"You think so, do you?" I asked, smiling and kissing her neck.
She laughed as I tickled her ear with my tongue. "Hmmm hmmm," she said.
"But," she paused, "you don't know everything about me."
I pulled away from her ear, raising one eyebrow. "Oh really?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No. I have a secret."
"A secret? Ah, well how about we play a little game then? A shot for a secret?"
She grinned and tilted her head. "Well, okay." She leaned forward and took the pens out of the cup on my desk and moved it to the far edge. Then she reached into her purse, next to the takeout bags, and pulled out a dime.
She held it up to me and I took it out of her hand. "Last time I made a shot and got your secret, my whole life changed."
She just looked at me, her face going serious. But then she smiled, nodding her head in the direction of the cup.
I raised an eyebrow again. What was she up to exactly? But I lined up my shot and threw the dime. Solid dunk. Yup, I still had it. I grinned at her.
"Give it up, Buttercup," I said.
She nodded and licked her lips, looking serious again. "So, as it turns out, your boys are really good swimmers too," she said quietly, her eyes studying mine.
"My boys?" I asked, confused. She just kept looking at me.
And then I suddenly understood and my whole body froze beneath her. "You're pregnant?" I breathed out.
She nodded her head yes, still studying my eyes warily.
"You're pregnant," I repeated, letting it sink in. "We're having a baby."
"Yes," she said.
I couldn't help the grin that spread over my face. She blinked at me.
"You're happy?" she whispered.
I nodded. "Yes, Buttercup, I'm happy." I smiled. "Very happy."
She laughed, but it sounded like there was a small sob beneath it.
"Did you think I wouldn't be?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I thought you'd be happy, but I wasn't sure… the timing… I know you have a lot going on and we're…"
"Grace," I said, looking into her eyes. "I'm happy," I repeated, letting her see in my face that it was true.
When she nodded, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, I said, "Marry me, Grace. Marry me today. Let's go to one of those chapels on the strip. We're already practically living together. Let's make it official."
She laughed through her tears. "I don't want you to marry me because I'm pregnant," she said.
I frowned. "Marry you because… Grace, I've been waiting to marry you for five years now. Maybe I didn't exactly know it, but it's true."
She laughed and then smiled at me for a few beats before replying, "Okay, I'll marry you. But not in a chapel on the strip. I want our friends and family there."
I smiled at her. "Okay, whatever you want, Buttercup," I said, hugging her to me.
After a minute I pulled away from Grace, frowning as something occurred to me.
"What?" she asked.
I put my hand on her belly. "I think this needs to be a boy. I don't know if I can handle having a daughter."
She smiled a gentle smile at me, understanding my reasons for that. "If I remember my biology lessons correctly, the man is in charge of the baby's gender."
I breathed out. "Okay, then it's in the bag," I said. I bent down and whispered to her belly, "Hey, Junior."
She grinned and kissed me, for the second time, giving me a secret and changing my life.
EPILOGUE
One year later
Grace
"That is the saddest tree I've ever seen," Audrey muttered, tilting her head to look at it.
I laughed, standing back and admiring the half bare, leaning tree, weighed down by the heavy strands of outdoor lights, standing in the middle of our cabin.
"I love it," I sighed. "Anyway, it's our first tradition. Don't knock it." It would look even more beautiful later after we had hung this year's Andrew ornaments on it.
Audrey continued to look at the tree with a disapproving expression. I swatted her playfully on her ass.
She let out a shriek and jumped away from me, laughing. "Fine, fine. Maybe I'll learn to love it too." She looked at the tree and tilted her head again.
I grinned, shaking my head. I started to turn toward the kitchen where I was in charge of basting the twenty-pound Christmas Eve turkey we had in the oven, when the door burst open and all the men came crashing loudly into the cabin.
"We're back, ladies," Josh yelled. "Who's in for naked hot tubbing?"
I laughed and Audrey rolled her eyes. I saw her look around Josh, her eyes landing on Dylan. He caught sight of her and stilled, adjusting his glasses. I'd have to ask her about that later. I'd noticed a lot of heated looks going on between those two this week.
Just as Carson had promised me a year ago, we had come back to Snowbird for Christmas. Only this time, our family and friends were with us and instead of lots to worry about, we had lots to celebrate.
Unfortunately, there was one person who hadn't been able to join us and that was Abby. But she had a really good reason–she was eight months pregnant and not able to fly. Her little boy, Kyle, and the new baby would only be thirteen months apart, but as Abby said, that's what happens when you drink three margaritas on your first night out post-partum. A warning to us all. Truthfully, her and Brian were thrilled.
We had rented a big, ten bedroom "cabin," and had spent the week skiing, snowboarding, and playing in the snow, with me strictly doing the latter. My muscles still remembered last year's lesson and weren't interested in signing up for more. Everyone had at least one gift. Snowboarding was not mine.
"Carson missed an epic afternoon on the slopes," Leland said, hanging his jacket up.
"I was busy doing something way better," Carson said, coming out of the bedroom, our daughter curled up on his chest. "I was cuddling in front of the fire with my girls," he grinned, "and decorating our tree." All the men looked over at the tree Carson was referring to and tilted their heads as a unit. I huffed out a breath as Carson walked up to me and put one arm around my shoulders, kissing my head.
"Oh, God, he's choosing cuddling and decorating over sports," Josh muttered. "Time to hand in your man card, Carson." Josh shook his head, feigning sadness.
Carson raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, your day is coming, my man. Mark my words. And when it does, payback is a bitch."
"Hey, watch your mouth, all my girls are in this room," my dad said, coming out of his room where he had been napping.
Carson looked appropriately repentant as he said, "Sorry, sir," but a corner of his lip quirked up as my dad walked by and punched his shoulder lightly.
The truth was, my dad
and Carson couldn't have been any closer. My dad loved both his sons-in-law, but he and Carson had a special bond. Maybe it was because Carson had never had a dad of his own, and my dad got the "man's man" he always wanted in a son, but whatever it was, they loved and respected each other. It warmed my heart in a way that had me constantly fighting back tears when I watched them together.
We had invited my mom to come for the weekend too, but she had declined, even when my sisters and I suggested renting two cabins. I wished we were closer, especially now that I had a daughter of my own, but I couldn't do all the work in our relationship. Maybe someday she'd realize that she had responded to loss, by creating more loss, and seek to repair it. I hoped that would be the case, but I thought more likely that too much time had already passed. It was one of my biggest heartbreaks, but I vowed everyday that it was going to inspire me to pull people closer, not push them away.
Carson had written his own mother a letter and sent her a picture of our daughter, Ella, when she was born–an olive branch that he extended to the woman who had given him life, but simply hadn't been capable of giving him much more than that when he was a boy.
She had written him back and they were corresponding with letters and pictures. He still seemed cautious, but it was a start.
I smiled up at my husband, and then I turned my eyes to our baby and kissed her on her blonde head. "Hey little miss," I said. "How come you're not sleeping?"
"We're working on it," Carson said. Then he leaned in and whispered, "I was telling her this really good story about a girl I fell in love with once upon a time between the twenty-first and twenty-second floor."
