Like getting caught.
Her death.
Failure of their plan.
With Clyde, he’d do impulsive things, like shooting at people, and that had nearly gotten them caught.
This time, she was going to play the game better, smarter, and to fruition.
Elizabeth was going to work on their timeline, and NOTHING was going to force her hand.
Nothing.
“The nun was so much fun. When are we taking the next one, lover?” she asked.
Bonnie was lounging on the couch in their tiny apartment. It was only a temporary stop between revenge and what she deserved—wealth and riches.
That was her goal.
Kill Elizabeth.
Move on.
Become infamous.
It was a simple three step plan.
“Tomorrow night, maybe. I like watching Elizabeth run around, trying to figure out who did it. She’s like a chicken with her head cut off.”
Lizzie giggled. “Yeah, she really is. Are you sure she’s as smart as everyone says she is? I’m not really impressed by her so far. She seems…mediocre.”
This was proof the woman beside her wasn’t worthy of Bonnie. She didn’t see the forest through the trees.
If Lizzie couldn’t see that Elizabeth Blackhawk was the pinnacle of competition, she didn’t deserve to play the game.
Elizabeth, while a pain in her ass, was smart, tough, and brilliant in her tracking of killers. Just staying one step ahead of her was enough to prove Bonnie was genius.
She was worthy.
She was the best.
“Oh, she’s smart, pet. If she finds your identity, she’d move Heaven and Earth to find you. That’s why we have to be very careful what gets out. Your anonymity is the only reason we can hide in plain sight. So, let’s not screw with that.”
“We have safety precautions in place, Bonnie. We’ll come out on top.”
Oh, she knew they would, or at least she would come out on top.
She didn’t give a shit about the woman beside her. She was a means to an end.
She was collateral damage.
She was…a pain in the ass.
“We have to be careful,” Bonnie reiterated.
Finally, Lizzie stopped arguing.
“I get it. So, what do you want to do?” she asked, sharpening the blade of her ax.
“Why not order some Chinese, kick back on the couch, and watch the news? I’m sure Elizabeth Blackhawk will be all over it. She always is. Wait until I start picking at that wound. I’m going to keep plying the news with more stories about ‘the other woman’. I’ll destroy Elizabeth from the outside, and the inside. I’ll make her doubt everything, everyone, and herself. By the time I’m done, she’ll destroy her own marriage with doubt, she’ll fall apart, and then we can kill her family.”
“That’s perfect.”
Bonnie laughed. “If she’s too stupid to see that her half-breed husband is besotted, that’s on her. For weeks, I’ve chipped away at her. It’ll come to a head. Soon. I can see it.”
“You’re evil.”
Bonnie smiled.
“Yes, pet, yes, I am.”
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Fort Whitefox-Blackhawk
Friday night
Six P.M
The event invitation had been secured, and the hosts of the grand party were excited that they’d be attending. Ethan could care less about everyone who was going to be there.
Tonight was about spending time with his wife, helping her with her plan, and mostly, just being her husband.
He missed these moments.
He’d taken them for granted.
Well, that was over. He’d never do that again.
Since Ethan knew Elizabeth was going to be baiting a killer, he was going to stick close.
REALLY.
CLOSE.
As in, he was going to be all over his wife.
“You’re smiling,” Callen said, as he watched his brother getting ready. He’d taken his tux and other things to a spare bedroom to give Elizabeth some space to get dressed. He couldn’t wait to see his wife.
He was dying of anticipation.
“Am I?” he asked,
Wyler laughed from the tablet sitting on the table, as Callen helped Ethan get the bowtie just right. He loved that his boys had pinged him to include him.
He was missing them.
“Yes, Ethan, you are,” Wyler said. “It’s that feral one you get before you do something questionable. Don’t get shot, and if you fornicate outside the house, don’t let the media get it on film. You three have caused enough mayhem.”
He laughed. “I admit that I was thinking about my wife. That’s all,” he told his father. In the background on the tablet, he could hear his kids running around.
It gave him peace.
“OUR,” Callen corrected. “I get to take her to a formal event next. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He grinned at his brother.
Callen had come a long way over the last year. So much had happened to change all of them, but beneath it all, there was still that competition.
“Deal.”
“What’s the wager?”
“Loser has to build the tipi in the backyard,” Blackhawk threw out there.
Wyler was intrigued. “Wait, you’re building a tipi?” he asked. That surprised the hell out of him.
This was news to him.
Callen spoke up, “That implies I’m losing and building it for you. If I win, I want an in-ground pool with a crazy ass slide.”
“I’m good with that.”
After all, it would get their wife into a bikini. There was no loser there.
“Then it’s a deal,” Ethan said, shaking Callen’s outstretched hand.
“Back it up, son,” Wyler said, interrupting them both. “Let’s revisit the tipi part of this.”
“I’m going to start practicing Shamanism. I’m taking over for Timothy. It’s not that I don’t think Elizabeth is doing a good job teaching our tribe, but I made a promise to Grandad, and I’m going to start to keep my word.”
Wyler stared at him from his place on the dresser.
“He was right!” Wyler stated.
“What?” Ethan asked.
“Your grandfather is laughing his ass off.”
Ethan tried not to be hurt by his reaction. After all, he was still Native beneath the veneer of the FBI.
“You don’t think I can do it?” he asked.
Wyler shook his head. “No, son, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” he asked, practicing the anger techniques that Doctor Gaines had taught him to use when he felt his control slipping.
“My father and I, before he died, were having tea in his bedroom. I thought he was just down with a chest cold.”
They remembered.
Timothy’s death had floored them all, and it had caused a hole in their lives.
“Out of the blue, he said, ‘When Ethan takes over for me, as Shaman, you’ll know the path is the right one. When he decides that he can’t run from the man he is, you’ll know the outcome will be as it should be. That’s when you celebrate him coming home. He finally has found himself’.”
They listened.
“I told him he was taking too much cold medicine. That the day you wore a tribal robe and played ‘Indian’ was the day the world stopped spinning on its axis.”
Callen fell off the bed. “Did you feel that? I think we stopped moving!”
Ethan laughed. “Har-har.”
Wyler needed to know. “Are you serious? Is my father’s premonition coming true? Are you finally at peace with who you are, Ethan?”
He thought about it.
Years of running, pretending, and avoiding had drained him. Ethan had to face the facts. He was Native, he was meant to carry on for their family, and he had some gifts of his own—just like Timothy.
“Yes. I am.”
/> That was what Wyler needed to hear. “I have something for you,” he said, getting Callen’s attention. “In my bedroom, top left drawer, there’s something for Ethan. Bring it, please.”
Callen did what he asked.
When he came back, his son was lovingly running his hands over it.
“This is for you, Ethan,” he said, watching from his perch on the dresser.
Wyler recalled the day his father had written it. Timothy had promised it would all work out, and he was grateful his father had been right.
“What is it?” he asked, taking it from Callen.
“A letter from your grandfather. He wanted you to have this once you figured it all out.”
That rattled Ethan. Anything from Timothy, the man who raised him, was precious. His death had left a hole in all of them, and little treasures filled that void.
“Really?”
Wyler nodded.
Slowly, and with reverence, Ethan opened it. As Callen read over his shoulder, they studied the older man’s handwriting, and message from the grave.
‘Ethan,
I love you. You are my first grandson, and I have high hopes for you. If you’re reading this, you’ve told your father that you’re going to start utilizing your heritage. I knew one day it would happen. I only wished I was alive to see it. You’re going to make our ancestors proud. A Blackhawk should always carry on with the traditions, and you’ll pass it on to your daughter too. I’m not the end, but one link in the chain.
In this envelope is a drawing. I needed you to have it. I wanted you to use it, and see that I’m still around. You’re on the right path, son, and I am so proud of you. Be strong, be resilient, and always do the right thing. You chose the right woman, you invited your brother into your relationship, and it forged something our people haven’t seen in a long time.
Native strength will prevail.
You will lead the charge.
You’re my strong-willed raven, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you.
I Love you,
Timothy.’
Ethan read it over again, and he wiped furiously at his eyes. As he held the paper, his hands shook.
God!
He missed that man.
Ethan was so glad he’d followed the path. It had sucked, as of late, but it led him here. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t afraid to be himself.
It was time.
“Thank you for this, Dad.”
Wyler wiped his own eyes. The emotion his boys were feeling hit him hard too.
“It’s time, son.”
Callen was more than a little jealous. Anything from the man who raised them was precious. They still had his war bonnet in the living room, sealed in a glass case.
Timothy was valued, even after death.
Maybe more so.
Ethan couldn’t believe it. “Wow. I didn’t see that one coming,” he said, gently folding the letter back up.
Wyler noticed his other son’s face.
Callen wasn’t left out.
“He has one for you, too, Callen James, but you can’t have it until you get to that point in the journey. Your day is coming. There was a second letter in my drawer.”
Well, that helped.
Callen knew his grandfather had always worked on his timeline, and no one else’s. He wasn’t shocked that he had to wait.
That was okay with him.
It was worth it.
Callen shoved his hands in his pockets. “I still miss him like it was yesterday.”
They all did.
“I miss my father so much, and I know how you both now feel when I abandoned you. I feel empty.”
They both looked over at his face on the tablet.
“Dad.”
“No, I know you forgave me, but I’ve never forgiven myself. I hope with my next son, I’m a better father.”
They wished they could hug him.
“You will be, Dad. You’re an excellent grandfather. Our kids love you so much.”
He wiped his eyes. “I love them too. Being here with them, with you, has changed my path. Before, I wanted to die. Now I want to live.”
Ethan was curious about the picture his grandfather had written about. Excitedly, he pulled out the other paper.
He opened it.
It was beautiful.
“Your grandfather had a vision. It was you sitting in a giant tipi with your children all around. He said six, but he was close enough. There will be six with my son,” he stated.
“What else did he see?”
“That.”
Ethan and Callen examined the three birds. The first began as a raven, the second was the head of an eagle but the body of the raven, and the final bird was the majestic eagle.
It had morphed.
Changed.
Just like him.
“It’s an Eagle. It’s the symbol for justice and peace. When you adorn yourself with it, you’re filled with strength, spirit healing, and prestige. You’re the raven no more, son. You’ve become your ultimate outcome. Your old spirit guide is retired. You’ve survived the tests that could have broken you.”
He touched it. “It’s gorgeous.”
“He drew it for you, and I think it will look lovely on the tipi, if you decide to put it there.”
Put it there?
Hell!
He was going to put it on his body too.
“It’s going on it. This is powerful. I can feel it on the paper. I can’t wait to be on my spirit quest in the tipi.”
Callen touched his shoulder.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“No bet,” Callen stated. “I want to help you build it. I can get a pool if I want one. I want to be part of your new journey. Maybe it will lead to my letter from granddad.”
Ethan hugged him.
“OUR new journey. It started with you, and it will end with you, brother.”
They clung to each other.
Two very different men, joined by one woman. They’d fought, battled, and escaped, only to realize that they were running from themselves.
Now, they were done running.
The Blackhawk boys were here to stay.
“I love you,” Ethan stated.
Callen gave him a kiss on the lips. “I love you too.”
Wyler watched his boys. All that emotion welled up. He was thankful that his father had raised them. He’d been responsible for this—not him.
He gave them life, but Timothy breathed soul into them. He’d forged this bond.
It was a beautiful one too.
Wyler realized that they couldn’t be whole without each other.
“You should go see your wife,” he said, wiping his eyes again. “I’m sure she’s going to be ready soon. I have to go take care of all these little hellion blessings I have running around,” Wyler stated.
Ethan gently folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.
“Callen, put this somewhere safe. I have to find an artist. I want the three birds on our tipi, so Timothy will be there with us each and every day.”
He could do that.
And he would make that happen.
For the brother he loved.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Elizabeth was ready.
As she checked herself out in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile at what she saw.
The separation diet had helped her get into the dress, and she was going to rock her husband’s world. She was back to being lean, sleek, and down to her ideal fighting weight.
Fighting for a man, that was.
This was the way she remembered her body, as Ethan rolled into Salem to help her solve those murders.
She couldn’t help but see those sweet memories coming back at that moment.
They mattered.
And this dress?
Oh, it mattered too.
She’d saved this little number, tucking it away in the back of he
r closet—with the hopes of one day squeezing into it.
Well, that day was here, and if she did say so herself, she was rocking it.
Ethan was going to be all over her.
And that was her plan.
To her, the dress was a symbol. It was the butterfly leaving that cocoon of sorrow. She liked it because when she wore it, from the back, all you saw was Ethan’s name across her shoulders. It framed that tattoo, and said everything she wanted to in that moment.
They were one.
He was hers.
She was his.
From the deep plunge in the front, showing off the swell of her breasts, to her strong arms, she was ready.
Elizabeth hoped he was too.
Checking her hair and makeup to make sure she was pristine, she gave herself the thumbs up.
“If you don’t swallow your tongue, I’m screwed,” she muttered, checking out her ass.
Oh yeah.
This was how you caught a man.
Heading out the door, she was shocked to find she wasn’t alone. Waiting in the hallway was Callen.
The second he saw her, he whistled.
“Holy Jessica Rabbit hot.”
She snorted. “Not really the look I was going for, but close enough,” she said.
Callen headed toward her. “I’d kidnap you and tie you to a railroad track.”
“That’s an interesting fantasy you have there, Callen James. Maybe we can play with it later. Why don’t you kidnap me and just tie me up?”
His whole body reacted.
“If I didn’t know how much time you put into getting ready, I’d carry you over my shoulder into that room and take you so much you’d walk funny for a month.”
She ran her fingers over his lower lip.
“Maybe after the party you can show me who’s the boss?” she asked.
He laughed.
That he could do.
She leaned into his body even more, enjoying the way he reacted to her. Callen was hard, and his erection was throbbing.
Yeah, she’d pulled it off.
As his lips moved across her throat, to her shoulder, she shivered at the deliciousness of that one act.
Callen could always undo her with just his mouth. He was the Michelangelo of oral activities.
“Jesus! You taste so good. I want to spend hours tasting you,” he admitted. “I wish I could be your date.”
Revenge has Come (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 19) Page 33