G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  “Are you and Taz thinking of having another one?” I asked.

  “Oh no—I mean in a couple more years. I want to go back to work when Harper turns a year old. We’re going to buy a bigger place.”

  I thought how nice it was that she and Taz had plans. I mean it must be great to be a couple that had dreams together and made plans…together.

  “Are you nervous about seeing Easton?” she asked quietly.

  I nodded, fidgeting with a strand of hair that wasn’t behaving. “What if he brought a date?” I asked. “I don’t know if I could maintain.”

  “Sure you could, Darce,” she said, encouragingly. “But I’m betting he’s not going to do that. I don’t care how much of a prick he’s been, I think it’s a defense mechanism with him.”

  “You do?” I asked, frowning.

  “Well,” she giggled, “Taz actually thinks that and I figure since my hubby is the psychological expert in the family, he might be right.”

  “He said that, huh?”

  “Yep,” she replied, nodding. “He thinks Easton’s mother did a number on him while growing up, big time. He definitely knows firsthand how she used him against Taz’s father. He says that Easton has a textbook fear of commitment with a self-loathing undertone.”

  “A what?” I asked, turning to look at her.

  She shrugged. “I think it means he has low self-esteem from being psychologically battered during his formative years, and a general mistrust of people that try and get close to him, along with an inability to let his guard down.”

  I thought about it and it made sense. He sure as hell was private. “Hey Linds,” I said, “Do you think that shit can be passed on through chromosomes?”

  “I don’t think that particular trait could,” she replied, “but you may want to ask Taz whenever he’s allowed to know about the baby.”

  “Well,” I sighed, “we’re ready I guess.”

  “Let’s do it,” she said, taking me by the arm. “You’ll be fine.”

  The wedding went beautifully. Ronnie was gorgeous in her gown with the long, satin train. Colin looked boldly handsome in his black tuxedo. Ronnie’s two sisters were attendants. I felt Lindsey take my hand when Easton came out from a side door near the front of the church with a groomsman, taking his place next to Colin, as they waited for the bride to arrive on her father’s arm.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of him during the entire ceremony, which was fine because no one would notice. It was the only opportunity I’d have to openly gaze at the man who I’d always love no matter what. I felt a tear and then another roll down my cheek as the bride and groom spoke their vows and pledged their love to one another. I’d give anything to have what Ronnie and Colin had.

  As the minister blessed them and pronounced them husband and wife, Easton turned, looking out among the throng of people assembled in the church and his eyes found mine.

  He always knew how to catch me staring…

  I felt my cheeks flush, but still I couldn’t…wouldn’t look away.

  “Easton’s staring at you,” Lindsey whispered, her hand over her mouth.

  “I know,” I replied trying to say it without moving my lips.

  He finally tore his gaze away as the ceremony ended and exit song started signaling the wedding party to retreat back down the aisle.

  The club where the reception had been booked was decorated in the wedding colors, with a live band ready to play, and tables of catered food being served.

  There were way more tables set than needed to accommodate those guests at the church, and by the time Lindsey and I arrived, the main room was starting to get crowded.

  “I guess a lot of invitees came here instead of the church,” she commented as a hot dude with a British accent brushed against her on our way to a table, giving her a wink and a polite, “Sorry about that, love,” as he did.

  We found the place cards with our names on them at a table in the center. “God, I hope we aren’t sitting with a bunch of losers,” I mumbled.

  “Shhh,” Lindsey, admonished. “You need to lighten up, Darce. This is a happy occasion, remember?”

  “Maybe for them, but not for me,” I replied, pulling a chair out for myself. “Oh Christ,” I said, spotting a place card with a name I recognized at our table.

  “Hey,” Lindsey interrupted my glowering at the place card, “will you stop reciting the cast and crew members of the Bible, already? We just came from a wedding. And judging from the glares that lady over there, who happens to look like she may have known Jesus personally, is giving us, I’m thinking she’d probably like to smite you before they start serving wedding cake.”

  I held up the place card.

  “What?’ she hissed, clearly not catching onto the name written down on the offensive card.

  “Lacee. You know—Lacee Fitz-friggin’-gerald?” Geez, it was hard to yell while whispering, but my best friend seemed to finally understand. “What the hell did I ever do to Ronnie to deserve this?” I asked Lindsey, who was now giving me a firm evil eye.

  “Darcy, stop it,” she warned, taking the place card from me and positioning it back on the table. “Make the best of it, okay? I mean, you work with her and she’s known Colin longer than you, so deal with it. They probably put her here because she knows you and she kind of knows me a little even,” her voice trailed off.

  “Ahh, yes. How could I forget that whole ten minutes you spent with her at your rehearsal dinner?”

  “I’m going up to the bar. Do you want anything?”

  “How about a Royal Fuck?” I asked, with a pout forming on my lips.

  “Yeah, got it,” she said, heading over to the bar. She returned a couple of minutes later with a Sloe Screw Up Against the Wall for her and a Virgin Daiquiri for me.

  “Gee, thanks,” I said, taking a sip of the alcohol-less cocktail. “This sucks donkey dicks; you do realize that, don’t you?”

  “Well, hang with it,” she replied. “I wanted to get you something that at least looked like alcohol otherwise it’d be…well, suspicious…”

  Nice, Linds…

  “You know,” she said after drinking half of her drink. “I just may say something to Easton myself about not returning Taz’s calls. I think it’s really rude.”

  “Hey,” I said, leaning closer to her, “why don’t you have about three more of those and then go up and ask the band if you could use their microphone, and then publicly bash the guy Kathy Griffin style?” I waggled my eyebrows at her.

  “Stop it,” she said, giggling and taking another sip. “You know I’m not as bold as you…oh, look there, speak of the devil,” she nodded towards the entrance as the bridal party arrived and took their places at the head table.

  I caught a glimpse of Easton talking to Ronnie, laughing and then leaning in to give her a kiss on her cheek. I was still gawking when a familiar voice got my attention.

  “Well, imagine that. We’re sitting with someone I work with, Austin.”

  I looked up and saw Lacee, dressed in a tight black low-cut dress with a tall, blond-haired man in a suit. He looked to be older than her, maybe early 40’s.

  Lacee introduced both of us to Austin Devers, a cousin of Colin’s. He seemed nice enough, probably too nice for Lacee, but that was his lesson to learn. We all made small talk for a while, Lindsey getting more drinks for us before dinner was served.

  I sat through the toasts, the speeches, and the bride and groom’s first dance, finally turning to Lindsey once Lacee and Austin got up to dance. I leaned in to ask if she wanted to leave, just as I felt a hand on my shoulder. I saw the look in Lindsey’s eyes and I knew who it was.

  I turned my head, and gazed up into familiar gunmetal eyes, feeling my heart come alive with his nearness to me.

  “Darcy,” he said softly, holding his hand out for mine, “would you please do me the honour?”

  Holy shit? Is this actually happening…?

  My
hand slipped into his and, like an idiot going back for more torture, I allowed him to lead me to the dance floor. His arms encircled me as he pulled me gently against him for this slow song. I recognized it. The same song we’d danced to at Lindsey’s wedding.

  I kept my face blank, as I picked a spot in the room and kept my eyes focused on it. I kept trying to imagine (or make-believe) that this could be any man. We were just two strangers dancing together at someone’s wedding, never having met before. Even as I breathed in his familiar scent, and tried to place titanium into my spine in a vain attempt not to completely melt in his arms, it was working.

  Until I heard his voice.

  “I apologise,” he said softly. “I’ve a tendency to try and lead when slow-dancing.”

  I immediately felt my lips twitch, and it literally took everything I had in me not to laugh at the almost forgotten words that I had spoken to him the first time we danced which felt like years and years ago.

  Bastard stole my line…

  The laugh that I was trying to hold back compromised with my lips as a smile immediately broke through, and I had to tilt my head down so that he wouldn’t see.

  I couldn’t help it. “I don’t intend to allow that,” I replied, reciting the same words he spoke to me that day. “You’ll learn to follow, I promise.”

  I brought my eyes back to that place in the room I was staring at before, and vowed that I wouldn’t take my eyes away from it until the song stopped. But that didn’t stop me from feeling his soft chuckle work its way through his chest.

  “You’re more beautiful now than ever,” he whispered against my hair. “Something’s changed.”

  I felt my guard slowly withering away, and I tried like hell to build it back up again. “My hair,” I whispered very softly, leaving it up to fate and to chance whether or not we should be having this conversation. I couldn’t decide if it was a good or a bad thing when I found out he heard me as he brought his hand gently to the nape of my neck to finger a loose strand. “I’m wearing it shorter now,” I explained with a bit more voice.

  “I can see,” his voice floated softly to my ear. “You did that to punish me, didn’t you?”

  That’s when I said screw it, and started to pull back, as a reflex, so that I could finally look at him. His arm tightened, though, keeping me firmly in place. I think he thought that I was getting ready to bolt from the dance floor.

  I reassured him by simply turning my face up and over to his. Big mistake. I wasn’t expecting the emotion I found settled deep in his eyes. I couldn’t make it out, but I kept my gaze fixed onto his nickel-gray one. “Why…?” I tried to clear my thoughts. “Why do you feel you deserved punishment?”

  I felt his deep sigh, the moment of silence while he decided whether or not he was going to engage in a game of banter with me or simply put it out there. “Because I broke you,” he replied, as his fingers traced a pattern on my lower back, sending delicious tingles to my spine, and breaking through the titanium. “Because I couldn’t bear the thought of loving you,” he finished, his lips brushing lightly against my brow.

  I could almost feel the light tears glistening beneath my eyelashes from having heard the words he never said, the words I didn’t think he’d ever say. And here Easton was, handing them over like we were trading wishes.

  Jesus…Get it together, Darce. He left you, remember? And when he should’ve said them, he didn’t.

  “I’m still in one piece,” I said softly. “You didn’t totally wreck me. You left me with something.”

  I felt his lips graze my forehead, his hands pressing me closer against him. “I can’t let you go, love. Not again.”

  “You have to, Easton,” I replied, trying to play it off as casual. “Because I’m not yours and I don’t love you anymore.”

  I heard his smirk of disbelief. He lowered his head so that his lips were nearly touching my ear. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I deserve that—and more. But it’s not over, Darcy. It’ll never be over. This thing we have…this complicated and beautiful thing that you and I share with one another? I won’t allow it to be finished because I do love you, in spite of my black heart and my flawed emotions.”

  I felt his lips on my ear, his warm breath against my neck as he whispered again that he loved me. Mercifully, the song ended and I pulled away, his arms reluctant to release me, his gaze penetrating every inch of me.

  Walk away.

  But before I did, I had to tell him, because I still had a wish to trade. “It’s too late, Easton,” I said through the sounds of couples going back to their chairs and idle chatter. “And I’m sorry.” His eyes burned through mine as I continued. “It’s not that I could ever hate you, because that’s just not possible…It’s just that I don’t love you anymore.”

  I half-expected him to call my bluff, but he didn’t. So before I joined the couples around me and made my way back to my own place card, I told him with shaking hands, “I could never allow myself to take that risk…again.”

  Without seeing or hearing his reply, I turned around.

  And walked away.

  chapter 53

  Lindsey and I were sitting in the back of a cab in front of a fountain somewhere in mid-town Manhattan. It was Sunday and we’d survived the night. I hadn’t slept well after the dance and conversation I’d had with Easton. I’d insisted on leaving right after that. Lindsey hadn’t argued, but Lacee had been nosy as hell, asking if I felt alright and if Easton had done anything to upset me.

  I told Lindsey about it once we got back to our hotel. She had told me she was proud of my strength, but then asked me if I felt absolutely certain about what I had told him. I told her “no” because I wasn’t sure. In fact, I was fairly certain it had been a lie.

  I wasn’t about to lie to my best friend.

  It was my turn to tell her before bed that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She’d given me a heavy sigh, and I could see her shaking her head in my peripheral vision. I heard her on her super secret cell phone later, making arrangements to meet Louise on Sunday to give her the money and get the letter from her father. She told her she had some pictures for her of the baby, too. There was no way in hell I was letting her go by herself.

  Another taxi pulled up in front of ours. We watched as an older woman, most likely in her mid-sixties, got out and paid the driver. She was average height and build, her clothing was non-descript, definitely not showing signs of wealth, but not poor either.

  “That’s Louise,” Lindsey said, all smiles, paying the driver.

  We got out and, immediately, Lindsey waved to Louise. The woman came over, giving Lindsey a hug and me the hairy eyeball. Lindsey broke away and introduced me as her best friend in the world.

  I smiled and shook Louise’s hand, noticing she didn’t have much warmth to her. Lindsey had said she was meeting us here because she lived in the Bronx and it was a good distance. She said she knew of a quaint coffee shop nearby where they could “catch-up.” I so wanted to point out to Lindsey that ‘catching-up’ was a term used between people that are already friends or have an established relationship. I didn’t think this qualified.

  We walked the half-block to the coffee shop, finding a table near the window. I knew Lindsey wanted some privacy while she turned the cash over to Louise, so I made it a point to excuse myself to go to the restroom, as she’d instructed me to do before we’d left the hotel.

  I returned five minutes later, getting a nod of approval from Lindsey and seeing a cup of coffee at my place. I sat down, feeling sort of out of place in this family moment. Maybe I’d made too much of an issue out of it. It was likely that, as a result of the whole ordeal with Easton, some of his “genuine mistrust of all mankind” had worn off on me.

  Lindsey was busy sharing photos of the baby with Louise, who was giving her the obligatory “oohs and aah’s” that any proud grandma would. I sipped my decaf, watching the traffic outside the coffee shop and notici
ng, after ten minutes or so had gone by, that a dark blue panel van had driven by three times since I’d returned to the table. It might not have come to my attention, since this was New York City after all, and there were likely hundreds if not thousands of older model panel vans in dark blue around, but the fact that the passenger door was caved in made it stand out. I was getting a feeling of uneasiness after it went by a fourth time and Louise looked at her watch right afterwards.

  “Lindsey, I’m afraid I’ve got to get going. My ride’s going to be here in just a couple of minutes and if I’m not out there waiting, she’ll probably go back to the Bronx without me,” she chuckled. “Norma comes to mid-town every Sunday to visit her mother who’s not well. She agreed to swing by here, so that I didn’t have to pay cab fare back, honey.”

  “No,” Lindsey said, smiling, “it’s okay, Grandma.” She left a $20 bill on the table, standing up to put her jacket on. “When will we talk again?” she asked.

  “Soon, honey. I’m so appreciative of you giving me this money, though you know I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I know, Grandma. I just don’t think that it’s right for you to deplete your life savings on account of…Daddy. I mean, can’t you talk him into turning himself in? I can’t imagine how his life must be, always…I don’t know—looking over his shoulder?”

  “I’ve tried; I really have,” she said with a sigh. “He always had a mind of his own. Even as a child, he always had to be in control. I guess he got that from his daddy.”

  We walked out of the coffee shop and Louise looked up and down the street for her friend, Norma. Just then, the dark blue panel van slowed and pulled into the tiny parking lot next to the coffee shop.

  “There’s Norma,” she said with a smile. “Come meet her. She’s my best friend, just like Darcy here is yours.”

  Don’t even think about it, Lindsey—

  “Sure,” I heard my trusting and naïve best friend say, holding on to Louise’s arm as they trudged to the alley that ran alongside the building and led to a small, obscure parking lot.