RELENTLESS (Runaway)
Page 16
On the drive to the airport, Tyler was in an unreasonably good mood. He whistled with the windows down, the sweet island air ruffling my curls and threatening to lift my mood. I refused to let it. I’d never smile again, if I had my way.
At the airport, Jasmine was whom I saw first, waiting at the baggage carousel. What was she doing here, all the way in Indonesia? Seeing my friend opened a wound, and the tears coursed over my cheeks.
“No, no,” Tyler said softly, taking me in his arms and thumbing the tears away. “This is a happy day, baby. Look. Look again.”
Holding Jasmine’s hand was my little baby. My treasure.
“Trevor!” I screamed, not caring about being in public or being stared at. The only thing I cared about was right in front of me. “My baby! Trevor!”
Holding him was sweeter than anything I’d ever experienced, his fresh scent filling my nose as I inhaled again and again. He clung to me, his face saying that he knew me from somewhere but couldn’t quite place it. That was all right. We’d work on that.
“Do you remember your mommy, baby?” I asked. “Can you say mommy?”
“Mommy,” he said confidently. He’d had this lesson before.
“Good boy,” I said. “That’s right. I’m your mommy.”
I held him close and squeezed my eyes shut, not opening them until I felt a light peck on my cheek.
I opened my eyes to see Jasmine, and hugged her to me, crushing my baby between us. He squawked a little and giggled in protest.
“How is this possible?” I asked, staring at her as she took a few steps to the side and melted back against Nate. He looked good—lots of color, and well rested.
“Tyler offered us a free vacation,” she said, shrugging. “How could we say no? Plus, we needed a little time off.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, I mean this.” I lifted my son in my arms, wanting to hear his sweet little chortle. He didn’t disappoint me, laughing for all he was worth.
“Why don’t you ask Tyler?” Jasmine suggested. “I think he’s been dying to tell you.”
I hung my head. “I haven’t been very nice to Tyler,” I said, glancing over to where he stood, still at a distance.
“You just didn’t understand before,” Jasmine said. “Now you do. He explained what happened. Said you were in a little bit of shock.”
The message was clear. Now that you get it, girl, you better go make good with the man who made this all possible.
Still carrying Trevor—and promising myself that I wouldn’t let him out of my arms until I was too physically tired to carry him—I approached Tyler.
“This was all the plan?” I asked. “All of this?”
“I tried to tell you,” he said.
“I’m sorry, Tyler. Please tell me. I’m listening now.”
So he did. Me getting caught at the house wasn’t a part of the plan. But the tickets to Indonesia had been—several months prior, when Tyler discovered the cartel was involved with the Paxton’s. He knew that he might have to get me out at a moment’s notice if things turned south, and get me to safety far beyond the reach of the cartel.
He’d turned over all of the evidence to Ben, but Tyler had been sending pieces of evidence to Fitch, the police officer who’d taken me from Mama’s nightclub, at the NYPD throughout his investigation.
“I knew it was too big just for me,” he said. “I knew that we’d probably need the help of something with a little more clout than a private investigator.”
And Fitch had waited, sat on each piece of salacious evidence, until he’d gotten the final pieces of the puzzle. The camera I was using to snap photos automatically sent the pictures to an online program that Fitch had access to. Fitch had taken the whole wealth of evidence—our bomb—and set it off.
As Tyler and I fled the cartels, Chuck Bloom swooped in with Child Protective Services, taking conservatorship of my son until the investigation was complete. At the same time that Jasmine arrived to hold my son, NYPD investigators were hauling one of the biggest cocaine seizures the city had seen in recent history from the Paxton’s basement. They had cartel members in handcuffs right alongside all three of the Paxton’s. There was hardly an investigation. Ben was declared unfit, and sole guardianship over Trevor was granted to me.
“From that point, it was just the logistics of getting him here,” Tyler said, giving my son a high five as Trevor giggled and offered his tiny palm again. “Jasmine and Nate graciously agreed, and that’s where we are.”
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “You’ve given me everything I ever wanted, everything I’ve been working toward all these years. Name your price for helping me in this case, Tyler, but I can never repay you.”
“There was one price I had in mind,” he said, kissing me softly and running his fingers through my curls.
I smiled against his lips. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed them.
“My body’s not for sale anymore,” I joked. “Sorry. But you’ve had my heart from the beginning.”
“And you’ve had mine,” he said. “Shimmy, I love you. It just scared me to death and if we’re being perfectly honest, it still does.”
“I think it’s okay to be a little scared,” I said.
“And I’m sorry that I knocked you out in the car,” he said, making me wince at that dark and desperate memory. “You wouldn’t calm down and we had to board a plane in a hurry.”
“Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Marlowe,” I said, only half teasing.
“I would never hurt you willingly,” he said. “And I want to protect you and Trevor for the rest of your lives.”
It was strange to think of the fact that everything I’d been working for up until now was mine. I was successful and well-adjusted and I was going to raise my baby from here on out. It was all I ever wanted, but now that I had it, I didn’t know what to work toward anymore.
The answer came to me as I watched Tyler playing peekaboo with Trevor—serious, ex-FBI Tyler, the Tyler who I’d seen brandish a gun and punch a man and seethe, monkeying around to get a smile out of my son.
Maybe, now, I’d work toward a family. Yes, a family sounded nice.
~ END ~
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