ESCANTA: A James Thomas Novel (The James Thomas Series Book 1)

by Brooke Sivendra

  “Jayce said Thomas Security is the best and he wouldn’t work with anyone else,” Mak said, testing Cami now.

  Her head rocked from side to side. “It depends on the case and what the client needs. I haven’t seen your full case details, so I can’t comment, but I know with certainty the brothers won’t pass your case on to someone they don’t trust.”

  It was a roundabout, dodging kind of answer. Mak focused her questioning back on Cami. “So, if you nearly beat Deacon, you must be good, then.”

  Cami scoffed. “Of course I am, and I’ve worked for it. You know, you and I are more alike than you probably realize. I’ve followed your case in the papers, for the same reason I think it’s intrigued a lot of people. It isn’t just about the case, it’s about you. A young, female lawyer taking on big cases with big risks. I hate to say it, but it’s something still out of the ordinary. It’s quite courageous, really. And I’ve had to do the same thing, albeit in a different industry. I trained with the best, and I stepped up for the cases others didn’t want to take. I pushed forward, so to speak, and I didn’t take no for an answer.”

  “What did you do before working for Thomas Security?” Mak asked.

  “I worked,” Cami said, her eyes sparkling with secrets.

  Mak smiled. “I see. So, what happens from here?”

  Cami shifted, crossing her legs toward Mak. “I will shadow you for the next forty-eight hours. I’ll be in the office with you, escort you back to the hotel, stay in the suite next to you, and then repeat it all. Once Deacon has organized the logistics of your security and completed the handover, I’ll be relieved by your permanent bodyguard.”

  “Right. Will my new bodyguard also be female?”

  “Not necessarily. Sometimes we will try and put a female bodyguard on a client, particularly when we don’t want the bodyguard to look like security as such. Again it depends on the case. I wasn’t chosen today because I’m female, though; they just want to make sure you’re safe and I’m damn good at my job.”

  Mak laughed—she already liked this girl. It was a shame it was going to be a short-lived relationship.

  When they arrived at the office, Mak was quickly escorted inside by Cami, who then did a surveillance check of her office while Mak sat down at her desk and lost herself in files of evidence and notes relating to her case. She had one week until her next court date and there was never such a thing as being over-prepared. She made a checklist of items to be covered in her meeting tomorrow with the homicide detectives and another checklist of witness preparations. When Mak looked up from her files, she realized it was nearly ten o’clock and neither of them had eaten. Was she supposed to organize food for Cami? She didn’t know the protocols.

  “Cami?” Mak asked. “Are you hungry? I’m going to order in some food.”

  “Sure. I’ll eat anything, so you tell me what you want and I’ll organize it.”

  Mak raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Um, okay, let’s order something relatively healthy, seeing as I’m probably not going to get to a Barre class this week. How about a chicken salad?”

  “Sure, consider it done,” Cami said.

  While Cami stepped out of Mak’s office, presumably to order the food, Mak did what she’d been longing to do all night, and what she should’ve done on the weekend had she not been so distracted by the second scroll.

  After receiving the note, she’d stayed awake all night—the fear obliterating her tiredness. She’d taken a knife from the kitchen block, however useless the idea, and inspected every inch of her apartment. She’d then barricaded the front door, sliding a dining chair under the handle, and huddled on the sofa until sunrise. When her security guys arrived they took the scroll, installed additional cameras in her apartment, and told her not to leave without a bodyguard. But Deacon Thomas was right: if they’d gotten in before, they would get in again. And next time they might leave more than just a scroll behind for her.

  Mak opened up Google and typed James Thomas into the search bar.

  It was a common name and millions of results came up but nothing seemingly relevant.

  Thomas Security

  No website, no phone number, nothing. Mak hit the News tab but it proved fruitless.

  Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way, Mak thought. This time she typed Jayce Tohmatsu. If you want to find the security, find the client. Hundreds of news items surfaced but Mak didn’t have time to look through them as Cami walked back in, closing the door behind her. Mak quickly closed the browser and reopened her email. Although Cami probably couldn’t see her screen, it wasn’t a risk Mak wanted to take.

  Forget him, Mak thought to herself. You shouldn’t even be looking him up. The voice in her head was the sensible voice, the one that obeyed logic and reason. But still she wanted to know. She couldn’t forget his eyes, the way that he looked at her, the way that his hand had felt wrapped around hers. He was like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

  Her office phone rang and she jumped, piquing Cami’s attention.

  Mak took a settling breath before she answered.

  “Mak Ashwood.”

  “Mak. Hi, it’s Jared from forensics. You’re there late.”

  “I’m one week out, so I’m going to be here late every night,” Mak said. “What’s up?”

  “I ran the DNA analysis from those two unsolved murder cases you asked me about. Unfortunately there wasn’t a match, not even close.”

  Hmm, Mak thought. She was sure there was a link in the cases, but she couldn’t find it. She made a note to review the evidence again. “Thanks anyway, Jared.”

  “You’re welcome. So, in this crazy schedule of yours, do you have time for a drink?”

  Mak should’ve been expecting this. They’d been flirting for months but, with the case building, she hadn’t given him much thought these past few weeks.

  “Um, things are…” She looked across to Cami, who seemed to be paying her no attention, but she thought that unlikely. “Can I get back to you tomorrow evening? I’ve just got to sort a few things out and then I’ll know where I’m at.”

  There was a brief silence on the line before he answered. “Sure, just let me know. I’ll leave you to it.”

  He didn’t sound pissed off, but he didn’t sound thrilled either. If he’d asked a week ago, she would’ve said yes, but so much had changed in a week.

  “The food is here,” Cami said, standing up.

  Mak nodded her head and wrote down Jared’s name on her to-do list. She should meet up with him, after all she had no reason not to. She’d call him back tomorrow and agree to a drink. God knew she could use one to relax after the past few days. She felt wound up like a jack-in-the-box ready to spring out, scaring the living hell out of whoever was around.

  While Cami was out of the room, she reopened the browser and at the same time her mind repeated the words: Forget him.

  She did it anyway, quickly browsing through the articles. She doubted he would be mentioned in any of the speculatory pieces on Jayce’s family so she kept scrolling until she came across the articles from Kyoji’s funeral. There it was: a picture of Jayce, Zahra, and James. Given the angle of the photo, the camera was taken from the right side of the path that led to the temple. Jayce’s and Zahra’s bodies were obscured by another body—one dressed in a suit with his hand over his face. Despite not being able to view him properly, she knew it was James Thomas. He made it look incidental, but Mak thought it was a completely intentional move—it was like he knew where the camera was and he didn’t want to have his photo taken.

  So, Zahra and Jayce knew nothing about him, and the Internet—the holy Mecca of information—knew nothing about him, either.

  Who are you, James Thomas?

  CHAPTER SIX –

  JAMES THOMAS

  James took the stairs two at a time until he reached the rooftop. The bulletproof glass dome that sat above the Thomas Security headquarters was the safest place to get a sense of being outside, without actually bei
ng outside. It had been a luxury to build it, but they spent more time up there than anywhere else.

  James spotted Deacon lying on the lounge chair, gazing up at the stars. It had been two days since they’d spoken—the longest James could ever remember.

  He walked forward and sat on the spare lounge chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you,” James said. No secrets was one of the few other rules they had.

  Deacon sighed and sat up to face James.

  “Just so you realize, she’s a distraction is code for I want to get in bed and fuck this girl’s brains out for three months. And even that we know is a bad idea. It isn’t code for I can’t stop thinking about this girl,” Deacon said.

  “I know,” James said, frowning.

  “I’m sorry about what I said…You’re not a bad person, James,” Deacon said.

  “No, you’re right—that is who I am. I can justify it all I want: the military or the agency ordered it, I was being hunted, whatever. At the end of the day I’ve killed hundreds of people and the reality is that I don’t feel any remorse. I am the kind of man she hates.”

  “You’re not. We might be the kind of guys who think our crimes should go unpunished, and that the laws don’t apply to us—Samuel in particular,” Deacon said, smirking. “But we don’t do these things out of greed. The men we hurt deserve it. I like to think of us as a balancing force in this world. If I didn’t, I’d probably hate myself so much I’d take my own life.”

  It was the difference between them. Deacon reflected on life, analyzed the things he’d done, questioned the orders and motives of the military. James didn’t—he didn’t look back at all. What was the point?

  “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Paris?” Deacon asked. “You say you’re fine, and you act like nothing has changed, but it has. And no one can possibly go through something so traumatic without it having an impact of some kind. You can talk to me about this, James. You don’t have to deal with it on your own.”

  “I know that I can, but there’s simply no point in reliving it over and over again. I made a mistake, a grave one, and I have to live with that, but it doesn’t mean I should wallow in my grief every day,” James said.

  “I’m not saying you should, but something like that takes time to get over, and you’re not giving yourself any time,” Deacon said, searching James’ eyes.

  Deacon shook his head. “Nicole’s death was years ago and I still remember it so vividly.” Deacon scrunched his face up as the vision pained him. “I see five men raping her until she’s a bloody mess, and then mutilate her until she passes out from the pain. I see it all, and worst of all I remember lying there, incapacitated. They made me watch when they knew I couldn’t do anything. I see her eyes pleading with me, begging me to help her, and I couldn’t.”

  James knew that Deacon still relived the horror of Nicole’s death because every now and then his screams penetrated the walls of their apartments in the dark hours of the night. James doubted Deacon would ever fully heal, not when he held on to so much regret.

  “It wasn’t worth it, James. I think of the beautiful moments we shared, the love we shared…” He shook his head. “It wasn’t worth it. If someone had told me how it would end, I would never have gotten involved. I would’ve walked away, no matter how hard it would’ve been.” Deacon looked up at the stars.

  “I still think about it too, Deacon. If I could’ve gotten there earlier, I could’ve stopped it all,” James said.

  “I don’t know how you managed to find us at all, let alone get there earlier. Some days I wished you’d gotten there later, after they’d killed me. It’s not right that she was tortured and died because of me, and yet I’m still alive.” Deacon sighed. “If they did that to Nicole, what do you think they would do to your girlfriend? I mean, my past is bad, but yours is worse—much worse. You make me look like a fucking apprentice. It’s not worth the risk, James. I’m begging you, stay away from this girl. She doesn’t deserve it. And neither do you.”

  “I know she doesn’t,” James said quietly, for once wishing his life was different; wishing he could have a normal relationship, wishing he could have a life where he didn’t need to look over his shoulder at every shadow that passed behind him. That was the change in him since Paris—it had made him consider things, wish for things, that he never had in the past.

  “I followed her home, too, from the engagement party,” James said, confessing all of his sins.

  “Fucking hell,” Deacon said, shaking his head.

  “I just wanted to test her security. I drove close enough that they should’ve picked up a tail and they didn’t. And I parked right outside her apartment and they didn’t notice that either.”

  Deacon pulled his lips to one side, mulling it over. “Well, she’s changing firms now so I suppose it doesn’t matter. Did Samuel know this, too? I don’t like the two of you keeping secrets from me.”

  “I didn’t tell Samuel. But you know what he’s like…” James said with a hint of a smile. “I think he’s always spying on us, always keeping tabs. I’m sure he knew I was there but he hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

  Deacon nodded his head, seeming to agree. “If you were to live your life over, would you make the same choices?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, Deacon. I don’t regret choosing to join the army—God only knows where I would’ve ended up without that structure and guidance. But crossing over into the CIA—that wasn’t a good choice. But I’m the perfect recruit, right? An orphan with a Delta Force skill set and no family to leave behind. They made such an enticing offer but I had no idea what I was getting into and what the long-term consequences would be. And Paris…Well, I definitely wouldn’t make the same choices there, but regardless, it’s well and truly done now.”

  “I wouldn’t do it again,” Deacon said. “I would choose another life.”

  His regret hung in the air like a thick smog.

  “Don’t tell me anything about Mak, Deacon. I don’t want to know. But make sure she’s okay, keep an eye on them.”

  Deacon nodded his head and James trusted him. He and Samuel would watch over her security, by whatever means necessary. It was the last he would see of Mak Ashwood because Deacon was right, she didn’t deserve a death like Nicole’s—and that was, without a doubt, what would happen if she were his girlfriend and he couldn’t protect her.

  James heard the rooftop door open and close.

  “Are we all friends again?” Cami said from behind James. She patted him on the shoulder as she sat down beside him.

  Deacon scoffed. “We’re always friends.”

  “Good to hear,” Cami said, sipping on a bottle of water.

  Cami had been absent for the past few days and James didn’t need to ask to know where she’d been. Deacon would’ve assigned her to Mak, and the fact that she was back indicated Mak’s security had been transferred.

  “How are you?” Deacon asked, taking the bottle of water from her hands and guzzling the rest of it.

  Cami narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t reprimand him. “Good. All is good.”

  All is good was code for Mak is good.

  “Any updates from Samuel?” Cami asked James.

  “No, and he’s been working so hard he’s barely slept in days,” James said. “I need to get on the ground. I need to go to Russia.”

  Having a guy like Samuel on your team was like having a secret weapon, but every now and then you had to do it old-school style—you had to get on your own two feet and chase down the leads. But Russia presented a problem now. Deacon would want to come with him, but James wanted Deacon in New York to make sure Mak’s new security firm was performing.

  “I’ll go with you,” Cami said. “Someone has to stay here and run Thomas Security, and I sure as fuck don’t want to do that, so I’ll go with you, and Deacon can manage everything here.”

  “I don’t like this,” Deacon said immediately
.

  “I like it a lot,” James said, grinning at Cami. She’d been with him on several missions, he’d even taken her into the lair to clean up the mess Kyoji Tohmatsu had made, and she’d performed every time. She was the next best thing to Deacon, and she was the solution to his problem.

  “It’s sorted, then,” she said confidently. “When do you want to leave?”

  Deacon groaned but didn’t object. He knew James was right about being on the ground—they’d given Samuel more time, but he was running up against a wall every time. They’d find new leads in Russia, give the information to Samuel, and then go from there.

  “The day after tomorrow,” James said.

  *

  It was easier to forget the sense of loneliness he’d felt since Paris during the daylight hours. James worked out, trained his staff, and ran his business. But the dark hours passed as slowly as a leaking tap fills a swimming pool. And his thoughts kept going back to Mak Ashwood. He had been instantly attracted to her, and that attraction had not dissipated in the days since he’d seen her last. But why? He’d been able to forget other beautiful women in his past, but he was having trouble getting Mak out of his mind. But a relationship could never be anything more than a dream—not for him, not given his past. James would put a target on her head, and if things took a turn for the worst, what would he do? James could disappear overnight, but what about her? She had a big family and a great career, and all of that would be gone. She’d have nothing but him and even if he could protect her, she’d eventually resent him for ruining her life. And that was provided she could even love the man he was. It was impossible—every way he looked at it, it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Can I offer you something to read during the flight?”

  James smiled at the airhostess but shook his head.

  “Yes, please,” Cami said from the chair beside him and took two newspapers.