“The easiest way to erase the dot on her head is probably to go public. She wasn’t intending to. Says they’re in love, I guess. Which makes me wonder if it’s the senator’s call or someone else’s. Someone who’s invested in a candidate who can’t fail right now.”
“That would make sense.”
I slow to a halt and turn to her. “It’s time to set up a home base. Working our way out of this mess isn’t likely to be straightforward or especially quick. We’ll have to follow the trouble as we find it, but living on the road will probably drive one of us crazy before we find what we’re looking for.”
She nods, her brows crinkling. “I mean, Halo—”
“No way. I’m going way outside my comfort zone working with Martine in any capacity. I need autonomy, and that’s not really her thing.”
“You can have autonomy and take advantage of an empty room in her house. You’re not taking an oath of fealty or anything. I think she knows you’re well beyond her reach.”
“Yeah, but I don’t trust her.”
“You don’t trust anyone.”
I sift my fingers into her hair, guiding her closer to me. “I trust you, Isabel.”
She sighs and settles her palms against my chest. “I think we’ll be safe there. It’s a safehouse, by definition.”
“Run by someone with enough power to be dangerous. We need to be able to maneuver. I can’t do that under her roof.”
Resignation shows in the slight slump of her shoulders. “Then where? Can we stay in New Orleans?”
“Is that what you want?”
She nods, a hint of pleading in her eyes. In that moment, something new and strange reveals itself within me—an instinctive desire not only to keep her safe from bodily harm but to give her a life that will make her happy. I’ve ripped her from the life she knew in the most traumatic way possible. The least I can do is offer some stability. And if this is where she wants to be, this is where we’ll stay. For as long as we can.
“Then we’ll stay. And I’ll tolerate Martine’s incredibly addictive home-cooked meals until we find the right place.”
She smiles broadly, lifts onto her toes, and seals the deal with a kiss.
We spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening roving the city. Some areas are familiar to me. Everything is new to Isabel, whose eyes light up at nearly every turn. We eat well, pick up some fliers for local real estate and rentals, and steal enough kisses in courtyards and alleyways that I’m eager to get back to Martine’s, if only to find more ways to put our four-poster bed to good use.
But when we get back to the house around nightfall, Jay is in the sitting room just past the entrance. She’s curled up on a couch with a book in her lap, a faraway look on her face.
I pause and look to Isabel. “Give us a minute?”
“Sure,” she says and steps away.
“Mind if I join you?”
Jay offers a tight smile, which I accept as a tentative yes. I sit on the adjacent chair and rest my elbows on my knees.
“What did the doctor say?”
She lifts her shoulder. “Nothing of consequence. Gave me the morning-after pill, just in case I wasn’t uncomfortable enough. He says I can get other tests done eventually. Obviously a rape kit was out of the question.”
A tense moment passes. “Were we right to bring you here?”
She blinks a few times, as if she doesn’t understand the question. “I had no choice.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner.”
She laughs. “Tristan, my life is a prison. I’ll know freedom in death. Probably sooner rather than later.”
I frown. “Things aren’t that dire. Not yet at least.”
“Everything is out of my control. Nothing is in order. I’m a bystander in my own life, forced to sit idly while others make the decisions knowing a fraction of what’s at stake.”
“Then why don’t you tell me so I know. Show me the minefields.”
She looks away. “I’ve told you all I know.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. Martine cut things short. She wants to needle it out of you herself.”
She meets my gaze. “You don’t think I know that already?” She looks me over. “You’re doing the same thing, by the way. I’m beginning to feel like the courted prom queen.”
I smirk, and she can’t mask her own.
“Listen… I don’t fully know what Martine’s intentions are. She’s shrewd and cunning. But she’s built a network of supposed do-gooders who tear down the bad guys and bolster the good guys.”
“Is that why you dislike her?”
“No. I’m just not much of a joiner.”
She cocks her head.
“If the Company’s work required group projects, I would have been done for long ago.”
“And now you have a partner,” she says, the irony like honey on her lips.
I tighten my jaw, unable to deny that she’s right. Isabel might be ill-equipped for the life of an assassin, but we’ve managed fine together. For the most part, our intentions align. They seem to more and more as the days go by.
“I never wanted this life,” I say. “You gave it to me. Why, I’ll never understand. I wanted to be free of it before Isabel, even if I refused to fully admit it to myself. You don’t understand it yet, Jay, because you still yearn for your old life. You wish you could wind the clocks back and make different choices so everything could keep humming along the way it always has been. Pretty soon, you’ll just want out of this prison no matter what it takes, no matter what you have to leave behind. That’s the prison you and I both live in—the prison the Company and all these fucking people created.”
Her eyes glisten, but her gaze is steady on me.
“I want to break out, and you will too. You and me? We deserve everything we get. Isabel doesn’t. She’s innocent. She has more heart than we ever will. So when I’m asking you to tell me what you know, I’m not trying to save the world or map out a path to glory. I just want a second chance, and I want her safe.”
She takes in an unsteady breath. “I have regrets too, you know. You pretend to know me, but you don’t. I used to care about things. I used to want a normal life. I wasn’t always this way.”
A tear travels down her cheek, leaving a glimmering trail. She wipes at it, and I reach for her hand, capturing it between us. Because I need her attention. I need her trust. She tenses, her eyes going wide.
“Then let’s crawl out of this shit together. Can you at least try to trust me?”
Her breathing grows shallow. I know what I’ve proposed is next to impossible for her on so many levels. A month ago, if someone had told me I needed to let go of the life I knew and start trusting and caring about people, I would have had choice words for them and possibly a more physical reply.
Jay’s not caught up yet, but she will be. In time.
“Tristan?”
Jay rips her hand out of mine, shifting her gaze to Isabel hovering near the doorway.
“Is everything okay?”
I stand and go to her. “Everything’s fine.”
CHAPTER NINE
Isabel
We don’t talk about why he was holding Jay’s hand or why she jerked it away as if she had something to hide. I quickly decide to place jealousy into the basket of basic emotions Tristan deems are beneath me, including hatred for Jay that is changing shape all the time. I don’t want to give the moment any strength or dwell on how deep their connection goes.
Instead I fall into bed with Tristan, and for the next couple of hours, we let our bodies answer all the promises our teasing touches made throughout the day. The storm rolling in hides the sounds of our lovemaking. And our lovemaking hides the worry in my heart.
Several hours later, the sliver of night sky between the curtains reveals the rain whipping shadows against the glass. Tristan is asleep on his back, his arm crooked over his eyes. Every few minutes I’ll feel the little movements of his dreams, w
hich don’t seem to be tormenting him the way others have.
They can’t possibly be tormenting him the way my thoughts are torturing me. So I get up quietly, careful not to rouse him, and slip on some clothes. In the kitchen I fumble through the cabinets to find some tea and a mug to fill with hot water.
When there’s a break in the storm’s rumbling, I hear voices. Indistinct but then stronger, like an argument’s being had. I still and strain to hear more. I recognize Martine’s voice but have to venture closer to make out what she’s saying.
I go toward the back of the house. An angle of lamplight cuts across the hallway from Martine’s office.
“This woman is a treasure for our cause. She’s only begun to open up to us about the structure behind their operation. She’s got more to share, and we can use all of it to our advantage. Every morsel. Even if I can’t earn Tristan’s trust, I don’t need to. She’s a walking bible of history on him too.”
“To what end? This is my question to you.”
I freeze and flatten my body against the wall at the sound of the man’s voice.
“To further the cause! Gabriel, this is what I’ve been telling you.”
“This cause is no longer mine. Isabel’s lost everything, and this is why. Your and Lucia’s incessant meddling. You’ve fed her thirst for vengeance all these years, and we’ll never have justice.”
“You can still have it! Kristopher is sitting in the inner circle of this group.”
“Which only strengthens his position.”
“We’ve been striking at them with our fists when they’ve had an arsenal. McKenna is the key. What she knows gives us the power to match their strength. To build a counter-effort that will reduce them to rubble.”
“You cannot fight men without hearts and expect to win this way. They will destroy you. I’m sorry, but he’s taken enough from me. I won’t let them destroy my family.”
“Then retreat back to your village and play God,” she snaps.
A few seconds go by, and I wonder if they’ve finished. I’m terrified at being caught eavesdropping, but I can’t bring myself to move. The woman behind the door sounds like a version of Martine that she’ll never show her followers.
“Martine, I have stood by you all these years. Our intentions were honest and true. But I fear this isn’t about casting light in dark corners anymore. I have every reason to make it personal, but I am humble enough to know when I’ve been bested. You’ve hardly paused to consider what this has meant for Isabel. What could have happened had she not been saved by this man from her past?”
“She follows him around like a lovesick child, and she’s likely never been happier. Lucia’s smothered her her whole life. She may be dead on paper, but now she’s finally living. She’ll grow with Halo if he gives her the chance.”
“The only things growing here are Halo’s bank accounts and your ego, and I’ll have no part of it,” he shouts. Then, his voice lower, “And I’ll let the devil take me before I let you lead my granddaughter any further into this plan of yours.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. Soundlessly I retreat back to the kitchen and head to the hallway. I catch a dart of movement in the corner of my eye. I suck in a breath but manage to quell a frightened shriek. My heart beats wildly in my chest even though I feel frozen in my spot again.
The shadow moves again, several feet away, until it changes under a sliver of moonlight. I release a dizzying breath and then another, my terror seeping away in small measures.
Zeda’s sharp profile comes into view. She lifts her finger to her lips.
When the door to Martine’s office slams, I turn away and rush back to the bedroom.
I close the door with a click and try to slip beside Tristan unnoticed.
He turns his body to me when my full weight hits the mattress. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say lightly.
He hums and tugs me closer, catching me against his chest with a sigh. Soon his sleepy softness hardens. “You’re shaking. Isabel, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just… I had a bad dream.”
He lifts onto his elbow and looks down at me. He touches my face, draws his hand down the column of my neck and finally over my racing heart.
“Why are you lying to me?”
I bite the inside of my lip, cursing myself. Asking myself the same question.
I shake my head, because I don’t know why. “I’m scared.”
“What happened?”
I haven’t had a minute to process what I heard. I don’t know how Tristan will react when I tell him…or if I should.
“Can we just talk about it in the morning?” I ask, hoping to buy more time.
“No, we can talk about it now because the longer you don’t tell me, the more I’m going to worry.”
I draw in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchen to get some tea, and I overheard Martine in her office. My grandfather was in there with her. They were arguing.”
“About what?”
“About me. About Jay. My grandfather doesn’t want anything to do with Halo’s work anymore because of what happened to me. And she’s… I don’t know, Tristan.”
Martine sounded like a woman possessed by her mission, blindly driven to it despite the threats of danger she promised earlier to heed. But is she so wrong to want to take the Company down? Is anyone more capable of destroying them? Is Tristan, alone but selfishly driven by his need to protect the two of us, more able?
“What about Martine? What did she say?” he presses.
“She’s obsessed with learning everything Jay knows. She thinks she’s the key to destroying the Company.”
“We already know that.”
“I know, but…she was different. Like she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way. I’ve never heard her so single-minded. She was talking to my grandfather like he was worthless.”
Like I meant nothing. A lovesick child…
I wince, remembering her cold words, and avert my eyes from Tristan’s intent stare. If she had any idea what we’ve been through, what we’ve endured.
“Did they see you?”
“No, I snuck away before they finished. But someone saw me leave.”
“Who?”
“Zeda.”
TRISTAN
Sleep is impossible. If Isabel achieves any, she’s lying again.
Why was her first instinct to lie? Was the fear of getting caught by them unthinkingly transferred to me in the heat of the moment? No. She was holding something back. The longer I lie awake, the more convinced I am of it. Though for the life of me, I can’t understand why. Despite my hesitations, she’s always ready to give our host the benefit of the doubt. How could overhearing one exchange leave her so shaken unless there’s more she’s not telling me?
As dawn starts to spill light into the room, I rise and get dressed.
Isabel sits up with the sheet drawn over her chest. Her eyes are tired, her expression wary. “Where are you going? It’s still early.”
“Not sure. Maybe for a run.”
She traps her bottom lip between her teeth. “Do you want to talk?”
I swing my gaze to her. “Do you?”
She doesn’t answer, and her early evasion stabs at me a little more.
“I’ll be back after breakfast.”
I pass through the empty kitchen and leave the house as quickly and quietly as I can.
“Tristan?”
On the porch, the sound of my name stops me in my tracks. I turn, and a man with silvering hair straightens off one of the rocking chairs. He’s dressed in dark slacks and a starched white button-down that contrasts with his dark features.
“You must be Gabriel.”
He smiles kindly and extends his hand. “Gabriel Martinez,” he says, his accent rolling over the name.
I take it in a firm shake. “Tristan Red.”
“I’m glad to finally shake your hand. My thank
s to you are overdue. You saved Isabel’s life.”
I struggle with his statement. The truth is I simply chose not to end it. Thankfully I was chosen over anyone else who wouldn’t have had a reason to hesitate. “Thank fate, I guess.”
“Or perhaps God himself.”
I shrug. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“I do,” he says with surety. He looks out to the street. “Would you like to walk with me?”
“Sure.”
Together we descend the painted wooden steps, down the path toward the street. An odd sense of relief washes over me when the heavy metal gate clanks shut behind us. One glance over my shoulder, and I catch the movement of curtains in the front bedroom. Isabel watching us leave, which lodges fresh worry in my gut.
We take a left and head east. The skies have cleared, but the night’s storm hangs like an invisible fog, clinging to my skin and thickening the air.
I’d love to ask him about his late-night meeting with Martine, but I don’t know him and don’t wish to upset the pretend harmony Martine likes to cultivate in the house. At least not until I get what I want from Jay.
“So, what brings you to Halo?” I finally ask.
He hums softly. “That’s a complicated question.” We walk a few more minutes in silence. “Lucia says you’re in love with Isabel. Is that true?”
I laugh awkwardly. Way to ease into it.
He smiles. “Is that too personal?”
I tuck my hands into my pockets and hope he continues without acknowledgment of what he must already know to be true.
“I ask because I need to know that she’s going to be taken care of. I can stay close for a little while, but home will call me back soon.”
“Where’s home?”
“La Mina. It’s a village in Honduras, close to where Lucia was raised before we emigrated to the United States. I trained in medicine at the university in Tegucigalpa, and of course that’s how I found a position with Chalys many years ago. A brief detour from my greater purpose.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m a doctor, an occupation that requires training and education. But at the heart of things, I’m a healer. There are no certificates or diplomas for that kind of work. For a brief time, I believed my position at Chalys would truly help me serve others. Cure illnesses, ease people’s suffering, give hope. It felt like I’d found my calling.” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that. I do much better work in La Mina.”
The Red Ledger, Book 4 Page 9
