by Naomi West
I winced a little, thinking back to the previous night. I couldn't say that I hadn't enjoyed it. I couldn't say that I didn't want to do it again, especially with my morning wood pressing firmly up against the sheets. But I also knew that what we'd done the previous night was only going to complicate things, if not now, then further down the line. And the last thing I needed now were any more complications. It was enough that there was all this drama with Olivia, with Damien, with Hollande…
I disentangled myself from the sheets and grabbed my clothes, bringing them into the bathroom with me. As I stood there beneath the water, scrubbing viciously at my skin, I thought about the mission. I didn't like the idea of leaving Liv behind while I went to the prison, knowing as I did that she didn't support the mission, that she didn't think it was right for me to be delivering the packages for Cat. I was kind of worried that as soon as I let her out of my sight, she'd go to the authorities—and at this point, she knew every detail of the plan, really, and it would be easy enough for the police to catch me redhanded.
On the other hand, I couldn't very well take her with me. Not only would it seem strange for us both to be visiting Grace, but I also couldn't trust Liv not to alert the guards about the plan as soon as she could. She would never help deliver the packages; her moral compass was too strongly pointed in the other direction.
For a wild moment, I thought about contacting Damien, seeing if there were any other Gemini Riders in the area who could come and watch over Liv while I delivered the packages. But that would mean one more person getting caught up in this mess, and anyway, it wasn't like Liv needed a babysitter. And I didn't want to admit that I couldn't do this on my own or that I couldn't fix the mess that I'd made.
There had to be some way to do it.
When I left the bathroom, Liv was sitting up on the edge of the bed, the sheet pulled around her bare skin. She looked over at me, biting her lower lip in a way that made me want to pull her up and kiss her some more. But that couldn't happen again.
“I'm going to leave you here while I deliver the package,” I told her gruffly. “But any sort of funny business ... well, I remind you, you're an accomplice in this. And although you may be able to strike some sort of deal with the authorities for turning yourself and the rest of us in, you're not going to come out scot-free. You would have to do jail time, and you would have a record. And when you got out, Cat's friends would be gunning for you.”
She looked pale and scared, and I almost felt sorry for her. But I pushed that feeling aside. “I know,” she said quietly, and I could tell that there was something more that she wanted to say, but she held back.
I nodded at her and grabbed my knapsack, shoving the first of the packages inside. “I'll be back in a little while,” I reminded her. “Don't leave the room.”
“Okay,” she agreed, pulling the sheet closer around herself. When I had my hand on the doorknob, she quietly said, “Rip?”
“What?” I asked, not bothering to turn around.
“Be careful,” she said.
I stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to that. Normally, some sort of flippant response would have been easy for me, but after last night, knowing that she genuinely wanted me to be careful, remembering that gut instinct telling me that she was, for some reason, looking out for my own wellbeing instead of just for herself? I couldn't just give her some sort of flippant response.
Finally, I nodded, but that was all the acknowledgement I could give her. I opened the door and left the room.
I got to the prison right when visiting hours were starting, not wanting to delay this any more than I had to. To my surprise, though, Cherri was standing outside when I arrived, smoking a cigarette. I could tell she was trying to appear nonchalant, but I could see tension in the way she held herself, and I knew she was scanning the parking lot looking for me. I rolled my eyes a little. What, had she thought that I wouldn't show up?
I strode confidently towards the doors, wondering if I should greet her as I walked past or if that would look too suspicious. In the end, I made up my mind to just walk straight by her. Better for everyone involved if it didn't look like we were involved in anything.
“Call it off,” Cherri muttered under her breath though as I started to walk past her.
I froze, staring at the doors, and fought the urge to turn towards her.
“They're about to do a sweep of the cells,” Cherri continued. “We'll have to wait until later in the week.”
I continued to pause and then shook my head, as though I'd decided I didn't want to see Grace after all. I turned and walked back to my bike, fighting the urge to sprint. They didn't have anything on me yet; Cherri had seen to that. But it reminded me again of what Liv had been saying, about all the ways that this could go wrong. I got back on my bike and rode back to the motel, trying to ignore a faint clamminess to my hands.
I wasn't about to chicken out, but maybe it was time I asked Damien for a little more advice.
Chapter Fifteen
Liv
The motel staff were nice enough to charge up my phone for about twenty minutes after Rip left for the prison. I wasn't sure exactly how far away the prison was or how long he would end up staying there talking to his ex, but I knew I had to do things quickly.
I had had enough. I didn't plan to go to the authorities, even though I knew that was probably what I should do. I was too worried about what they might do to me, though, too worried about all the things that Rip had said that morning. But surely if I removed myself from the situation, if I went back home and resumed my normal life, then even if Rip got caught delivering the packages or something else happened that wasn't supposed to happen, surely the authorities would see that I had no involvement in this, that I hadn't wanted anything to do with it.
Without a car, I didn't really know how I was going to escape.Until I realized that I knew someone who was probably still there in the area and willing to help me out. I sent Hollande a text asking him to meet me in the hotel lobby as soon as possible.
I went back upstairs to shower, wishing that I could just wash away all of this nightmare, but the longer I stood there under the spray, the more I regretted that text to Hollande. I didn't want him to think I wanted him. I didn't want him to think I was some damsel that needed rescuing. And as much as I was frustrated with him at the moment, I didn't want him to be implicated in all of this as well. By asking him to meet me here, I was making him a liability, and that wasn't right.
When I went back out to my phone, though, ready to tell him not to come, there was just enough battery left to show me his expected arrival time, twenty minutes from now. Then, the battery died again, the screen fading to black. I swallowed hard, staring down at it for a long moment, and then I reluctantly got dressed and went down to the lobby to meet him.
Hollande breezed into the lobby with a smug air about himself. “Darling,” he said, kissing my cheek and then cupping my face in his hands. “You can always tell me when you're in a bad situation, you know,” he chided. “You don't have to make up stories and try to save yourself. Of course that man wasn't your secret lover. Don't think I believed that for a second.”
I thought back to the previous night, wondering what Hollande would think if he knew that I had actually had sex with Rip. My gut churned unpleasantly, and I shrugged off his hands, pulling back away from him.
“Hollande, I don't want to be in a relationship with you,” I told him, proud of the way my voice didn't quaver even in the slightest. “And I thought that I needed your help, but—”
What perfectly horrible timing, I suddenly realized, eyes widening in horror as Rip stalked back into the motel lobby, a look of murder on his face as he saw me standing there talking to Hollande.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.
Hollande, to his credit, stood up tall, although it was obvious that Rip could break him in half if he wanted to, especially given the garish bruise Hollande was curren
tly sporting from yesterday's encounter. “Livy asked me to meet her here,” he said.
Rip turned his furious gaze on me. “Is that true?” he asked, and I could tell from his tone that he knew exactly what I'd been planning to do. But I still tried to deny it.
“I wanted to tell him that I couldn't be in a relationship with him,” I said lamely. “I know things got a little heated yesterday, and I wanted to apologize to him about that while you weren't around. And I wanted to tell him that I'm fine and that he can leave me alone with you and go back home. That's it.”
Rip looked almost convinced, but I could still sense a little suspicion from him, and I didn't blame him for that. I'd have been suspicious too. I ducked my head a little, feeling ashamed that I had even thought to text Hollande. It had just seemed like such a great idea for a moment, to just leave this all behind me. Of course things wouldn't work that way. I was stuck in this now, whatever happened.
“Well, I suppose I had better leave, then,” Hollande said, his voice like acid. “I wish you all the best, Olivia.” But I could tell from his tone that he really would rather ... well, probably if he had known about the plan, about the gun parts and Cat Zodiac, he'd probably be pretty happy to see me locked up in jail with the rest of them.
I swallowed hard, trying not to let that hurt me.
“Upstairs,” Rip growled at me, catching my wrist and dragging me along with him.
In the room, he whirled on me, looking even more furious, if that was possible. “What the hell were you thinking, having him come here?” he snarled, tossing his backpack off to the side.
I frowned at it, hearing the pieces rattling around inside. “You didn't deliver the package,” I said, wondering what that could mean. Had Rip somehow realized what a dangerous venture this was? But what would Cherri do to us now, since he hadn't gone along with the plan?
“There was a minor setback,” Rip snapped. “Don't try to change the subject.”
I hung my head, feeling like a chastised schoolgirl. “I know I shouldn't have messaged him,” I said. “I just got so scared this morning when you were talking about me doing prison time, and I thought that maybe if I went home and pretended I had had nothing to do with any of this ... well, I thought that maybe you'd all just let me go. I don't think what you're doing is right, but I wouldn't go to the cops, I just want to…” I trailed off, fighting back tears. But in the end, it was futile.
I sobbed, feeling ashamed and overwhelmed and confused. “I just want to go home.”
Rip did nothing for a long moment, just stared at me as I continued to sniffle. Then, something in his demeanor changed. He deflated a little, looked a little less angry. He moved slowly over to me and pulled me into his arms, cradling me there against him. He sighed heavily.
“I know this hasn't been easy on you,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. “I know I've asked a lot of you, and torn you away from everything you've ever known. But it'll all be over soon, and then you can go back home, all right? I'll take you back myself.”
“But nothing will ever be the same again,” I whimpered. “I'm going to have to quit my job and move, just so you and Cat and the rest of your lot can never find me again. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life in fear that the authorities will somehow figure out my part in all of this and come knocking on my door one day with a warrant for my arrest.”
Rip sighed. “You've clearly watched too many of those crime shows on TV,” he said, trying for a little light-hearted humor. But the words fell flat to me.
I shivered a little against him, pressing closer to his warmth. “There has to be some way we can turn this whole thing over to the authorities and be done with it,” I said.
“I couldn't do that,” Rip said grimly, shaking his head. “I'm sorry, Liv, but that's out of the question. Not only would Cat be furious with me, but I can't give up my allegiance like that. I've sworn oaths to the Gemini Riders that I can't bring myself to break.”
“So what are we going to do?” I asked, finally pulling away from him and wiping at my tear-streaked face. “What happened with the delivery today?”
Rip shrugged a little. “They're about to do a full search of the prison, so it wouldn't make sense for me to bring in the packages now. We'll wait until later in the week and try again. In the meantime, we hang tight here.”
I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “All right,” I said, seeing no other way out. “All right.” I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind racing with horrifying scenarios of us getting caught. But knowing that Rip wouldn't listen to me no matter what I said, I remained silent.
Chapter Sixteen
Rip
I jumped a little, hearing the knock on the door. I was groggy from the nap I'd been taking, but I quickly pulled myself up and went to answer it, hoping it wasn't another unpleasant visitor. When I looked through the peep hole, though, it was just housekeeping. I breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door.
“We don't need anything cleaned right now,” I told the woman quietly, mindful of Liv still sleeping on the bed.
“Okay,” the woman said, nodding and moving on to the next room. I picked up the Do Not Disturb sign where it had fallen on the ground and hung it back on the doorknob. Then, looking back indecisively at Liv for a moment, I left the room, shutting the door behind me. I went down to the lobby, pulling out my phone as I went. It was quiet and empty in the lobby; even the receptionist was somewhere in the back, out of earshot.
I dialed Damien's number.
“Is the mission complete?” he asked when he picked up the phone.
“Not quite,” I said. I glanced around again and lowered my voice. “Look, we've met with Cherri, and she has a plan for how I'm supposed to get the packages into the jail, but—”
“You're responsible for getting the packages into jail?” Damien asked incredulously. “It's bad enough that you've transported the things, but do you realize what could happen to you if you get caught smuggling weapons into a federal prison?”
“I know, I know,” I said. I scrubbed a hand over my face, wondering what I wanted to say. “Damien, I feel like I'm in this over my head,” I admitted.
Damien sighed. “Well, it's good to hear you finally realize that. My offer from before still stands—we can make you disappear.”
“I don't like that plan,” I said frankly. “I've brought the packages this far. I don't want to put someone else in danger trying to dispose of them. I think it's best that I just hand the packages over to Cherri and let her deal with it. Maybe find someone else to smuggle the packages into the prison—I'm sure they've got other connections.”
“Hmm,” Damien said, clearly thinking it over. “I do think that's the safest option. If you're nervous about this, you're not the best person to be smuggling them in anyway. It's in their best interest to find someone else. A nervous man makes stupid mistakes and is really obvious to those trained to look out for nervous ticks.”
“Exactly,” I said. I sighed. “Now the question is just convincing Cherri to come pick up the packages—sooner, rather than later. And convincing her that Liv isn't a liability.”
“Except that she is, and she'll remain one—even if the plan is executed successfully. She knows exactly who was involved, at every step of the way.”
“So what, you think she deserves to be killed off as well?” I asked, surprised. Damien had a reputation for being fair and merciful; that he would order Liv's death, when she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, didn't seem like him.
“Of course I don't think she deserves to be killed,” Damien said, sounding exasperated. “I'm appalled that you would think that. But I do understand where Cherri is coming from if that's what she thinks. Liv is a liability, and you need to remember that.”
“So what happens to her, then?” I asked.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Damien asked, a strange note in his voice. “You sound very reluctant to have anything bad happe
n to her. Protective, even.”
I scowled. “Of course I don't have feelings for her,” I snapped, even though that statement didn't exactly ring true. I shook my head. “I just feel guilty for dragging her into this mess, that's all.”
“All right,” Damien said, but he didn't sound convinced. “She'll need to disappear. I'm sure we can help her out with that. But you would need to figure out some way of ensuring her silence over the whole thing—especially if you don't plan on going into hiding. You don't want her guilt to someday overwhelm her and have her send the police after you in ten or twenty years.”
“No,” I agreed. I frowned. “I'm not sure how we would keep her from talking, though. She's...actually a good person, Damien. Money's not the thing that keeps her going.”
“Then you'll need to find out what is,” Damien said simply. “In the meantime, I'd suggest having Cherri come to the hotel and take the packages off your hands. Then get yourself out of there as soon as you can.”
