The End of Lies: The Single Lady Spy 4 (The Single Lady Spy Series)

by Tara Brown

  He must have had a perfect view of Hyde Park.

  He strolled across the open space of the great room to the expansive marble counter in the kitchen and poured us both a glass of water from a bottle set on ice.

  It was a fancy brand of still water I’d had with him before.

  He lifted the glasses and walked over and placed them down on the table in the dining room. With a deep inhale, he lifted one of the glasses and sipped slowly. He licked his lips, and I tried not to notice any of it. His plump lips glistening with the soft light and the moisture from the water. The anguish in his stare. The hollow of his cheeks, suggesting he had lost a bit of weight.

  I fought the urge to fix him. To make it better. To repair the damage done between us, as if I’d been responsible for him fucking his old flame.

  I chanted he was a lying cheater and his ability to manipulate me was done.

  It was over.

  This was over.

  “Michele Saransk?” I asked from the safety of across the room.

  “He’s hiding at his family estate outside Volgograd. The security is impenetrable. The grounds are surrounded by a river on one side and an open space on the other. You couldn't possibly hope to get within five miles of his house uninvited. He almost never leaves and when he does, absolutely no one knows about it.”

  “Uninvited? Could I be invited?” I folded my arms over my chest, drawing his gaze there.

  “You could be. Possibly.”

  “And you would take me with you?”

  “Possibly.” The haunted stare was killing me but I stayed strong. I didn't move, no matter how much I wanted that icy glass of water. “Tell me what your plan is for him, and I will decide if I will take you there. Because right now, I just want to bomb his house with an American fighter and possibly start a war. I don't want you involved in this.” He placed the glass down and sat back, also folding his arms over his chest.

  “Starting a war is stupid. And counterproductive. Get me in and I will kill him and his family. Kill everyone who works for him so none of them ever run that disgusting business or come for me and my family. Then, when they’re dead, we send Jack into his computer system and track his whole operation so I can get Interpol to shut down all his brothels and drug houses. Maybe let them unleash on the known associates with an elite kill squad to take down anyone who used the brothels."

  “Aggressive, but also I'm a known associate. We could bomb the house,” Servario suggested again.

  “No.” I pressed my lips together, working at keeping my eyes on his and not letting them trail to the condensation-coated glass of water. “He could survive that. I want to see him die.”

  “Taking the water isn’t saying you forgive me for whatever it is you believe I have done,” he changed the subject with a smirk.

  “Fine.” I rushed at the table and lifted the glass, drinking it back in several gulps and wiped my mouth. I returned the glass to the counter and grabbed the bottle, drinking from it as I leaned against the wide marble island. I was so thirsty.

  I didn't hear him move.

  I didn't hear a sound.

  But a second after I placed the water bottle down, I felt him behind me, hovering. He didn't press himself into me, as he normally did. He lingered there, making it impossible for me to move without brushing into him.

  I spun, lifting my stare to his. “Don't.”

  It was the only word I got out before he moved.

  For his size he was lightning fast. He grabbed me, lifting me to the counter and stepping in, placing himself between my legs as his hands ripped off my wig and cupped my face.

  The kiss was explosive.

  Too long had passed.

  Too much rage was leaving both our lips.

  There was no delicacy.

  His teeth raked at my lips as his hands reached up roughly and dragged my underwear from between my legs. They weren’t all the way down before he ripped them in half and pulled me closer to him.

  “Gustavo, no,” I whispered in protest, but even I didn't buy the lie.

  His belt buckle, his zipper, his pants, were all dealt with smoothly.

  There were maybe three heartbeats before he thrust himself into me. We’d both moved with urgency but the moment he was inside me, we froze.

  My eyes and mouth widened as I pulled back, staring into his blazing glower.

  “We can’t,” I protested but didn't move.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Evie. And you’re going to come for me one last time.”

  “Gustavo.” I didn't have the self-control to stop this, not when he was already inside me. But I knew it was a mistake.

  This was all a mistake.

  A trap.

  He’d lied about having information.

  The same way he would lie about not fucking Elise with the very cock currently buried inside me.

  I pulled back, pushing on his chest but it was no use.

  The moment he moved only slightly, a moan escaped my lips. A traitorous moan.

  “There’s my girl.” He grinned and thrust harder, shoving himself into me. I pushed until I was lying back on the counter and he was gripping my thighs and fucking me so hard I couldn't contain myself.

  Gasps and moans and encouraging words flew from me as I let it happen.

  He punished me with his cock, pounding me and then going slowly, teasing me until I begged again and again.

  And when it was over, I hated myself but I’d come, just like he said I would.

  Everything was always just like he said it would be.

  He huffed his breath and placed his head on my breasts, still very much inside me.

  We stayed this way for a moment before he stood up straight and pulled me from the counter, semen running down my thighs, and dragged me to the bathroom. He pulled my clothes off, staring at me for a second before removing his own.

  He started the shower and pulled me with him, his fingers digging in.

  He stood under the spray, taking all the water.

  “Why are you being like this?” he asked.

  “Are you serious right now?” I sensed a little fire lighting in me.

  “I am always serious.”

  “We broke up. You agreed this was over. I can’t do this with you.” I grabbed the soap and shoved him out of the way so I could get into the water to clean myself.

  “Evie, explain this to me. This hatred.”

  “No.” I lathered and rinsed and climbed out. I was wrapped in the towel with my dirty clothes in hand and already to his closet, looking for clean clothes when he climbed out.

  “Why are you angry?”

  I grabbed a white undershirt and some boxers and pulled them on. They didn't fit, but I tight-rolled them like we did with the cuffs of our jeans in the eighties and forced them to stay up.

  “Evie.”

  Finally, letting the steam build until it was beyond what I could manage, I burst, “Because, you fucking asshole, you asked me to marry you. You gave me a fucking glass slipper. You told me I was everything to you and that you have loved me your whole adult life. And then I went to that house and I found those old photos of you and Elise and I knew. I saw the look in your eyes. You love her. It’s why you don't like blondes. She’s the only one for you.” Tears threatened my eyes, but I forced them back, making my voice crack. “And then you met with her—I don't care the reasons—and you stayed in a hotel with her. Someone you used to love or still do. Are you seriously saying you didn't fuck her? After you asked me to marry you, you did not fuck that woman you love?”

  “Evie—”

  “How many times? Is she good in bed? She’s better than me, right? Everyone always is.” I stormed toward him, and not for the first time, he looked scared of me. Scared of my crazy. “Did you fuck her?” I shoved him.

  “Jesus, Evie. Why does it matter? It’s a cover story to—”

  “You fucking liar!” I shoved him again and the damn broke. The tears seared my eyes as they flooded my f
ace. “I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.” I turned and fled, carrying my sex-stained clothing and extra padding with me. I tapped the lock button on the elevator but it didn't work. I pushed the button multiple times but nothing happened.

  Blind with rage and betrayal and pain, I tapped the button again and again.

  “You’re leaving, like this? You honestly don't want to talk about it? Or hear me out?” It was crazy for him to say this, but I was beyond really hearing him.

  “I don't want to do this anymore.”

  “Do what? Lie to each other?”

  “To each other?” I scoffed.

  “You fucked him!” He finally lost the control he had been maintaining. “You hypocrite. You fucked Coop at the funeral. You went to the room with him. You got into the shower with him. You think I didn't know that? You think I didn't sneak into that room and listen to you in the shower?” It was his turn to scream. “I love you, Evie! But you have not made it easy either.” He waved his hands in the air like a crazy person.

  My stomach tensed again. He came into the room? He heard us in the shower?

  Oh God.

  “You killed his sister. It wasn't what you think!” I said the wrong thing.

  Servario ran at me, grabbing my arms and making the clothes go flying. “You can say that, but I can’t? You can explain away your actions but I cannot? I can’t try to explain myself when you so clearly are still in love with that fucking boy!” He shook me like a rag doll. “You think I didn't see the look on his face today when I showed up? He still loves you.”

  “Stop!” I shoved him back. “I didn't go to the hotel purposely to fuck him. I went there to try to comfort him. It wasn't like that. You, however, booked a hotel room intentionally, calculatedly—to what—get back at me? You’re a sick bastard. You fucked her on purpose. I hate you!”

  His hand swung out to hit or grab me, but I jerked to the right and spun around him. I grabbed his arm and launched it up the middle of his back. He lost his balance and I sent him flying across the room.

  “You wanna wrestle, Gustavo?” I held my hands out, motioning for him to come at me. “Let’s do this!”

  He launched himself at me, but I moved too quickly, kicking him in the middle of his back when I spun behind him. He crashed into the wall, smacking his face. He heaved his breath and touched his lip where blood appeared.

  I gulped when his crazy eyes flashed on me.

  Terrified but refusing to give in, I put my hands up, forming fists, certain I was returning the same expression.

  Again, he ran at me, but as I faked him out, he moved fast the wrong way, grabbing me. He bearhugged me, pinning my arms in his embrace and squeezed. I cried out until my air was cut off and my old rib injury burned.

  He was killing me.

  I leaned in, biting his bare shoulder until he screamed and released enough for me to drive a knee up, hitting him square in the balls.

  He dropped me, taking a knee himself. I backhanded him, sending him sprawling to the floor. “That is for revenge fucking her to spite me! You petty asshole,” I shouted and then kicked him in the stomach. “And that is for making me care about you, you demented bastard.” I went to kick again but he caught my leg, tripping me up and taking me to the floor with him. He moved quickly, like a gator and pinned me under him, bleeding and breathing heavily on me.

  “How does it feel, Evie? How does it feel to have someone betray you after you gave them your whole heart?” His eyes were lost in a sea of tears and his accent claimed his voice. I barely understood him. “You think I didn't know you were coming to France? I didn't know Jack tracked me down? Or for a second I didn't already have the intel about Coop’s new girlfriend? Or guess that the whole team would be upset and need to talk to me? You’ve never wondered how Coop met her? You think for one second I haven’t planned out your whole life? Nothing you do is left to chance. I told you, I am always watching. You are mine until I say you're free. And I will never say that, never."

  The reality of it all hit me like a piece of lumber to the face.

  He set me up.

  He made Coop fall in love, knowing I would be watching. He tormented me on purpose.

  It had been Coop’s sister’s funeral all along.

  It had been the shower and the betrayal.

  And it was all mine.

  I couldn't get my breath as the realization of my actions hit me in the face.

  “As much as you hate me, you should hate yourself. You broke your own heart. And you broke mine with it.” He squeezed me one last time before he got up, limping back to his bedroom.

  The lock on the elevator changed from red to green.

  But I couldn't move.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized I had broken him long before he ever broke me.

  I had done this.

  When I realized he wasn't coming out, I got up and forced myself into the elevator.

  The walk of shame was unpleasant for anyone.

  Adding not only the wrong clothes but also bruises and cuts was something else.

  I looked like a sex assault victim, but I wasn't. I wasn't the victim of this story.

  I was the villain.

  “Goodnight, miss,” the doorman said politely.

  “Night,” I whispered as I pulled on my sunglasses and set off down the street, barefoot and in men’s boxers and a ripped oversized tee shirt.

  “Wait.”

  I paused, certain I’d misheard the voice. I turned slowly, seeing Servario holding a blanket. He was wearing pajama pants but no shirt or shoes.

  It was weird to see him this way on the street in front of his building.

  “Don't go.”

  “We can’t keep doing this to each other.” I began to cry again.

  “No. But you can’t leave like this in the middle of the night. And you can’t be alone.” He limped to me cautiously, holding the blanket out. He wrapped it around my shoulders and stepped back. The bite on his shoulder was still red, as was the spot where the blood had seeped from his lip. A car started down the road toward us. His eyes were glassy from tears he hadn’t cried. “Goodbye, Evie.”

  The way he said it was so final.

  As if this was a real goodbye.

  It took my breath away, making my wounded ribs hurt more.

  Even if I knew this wasn't over. It was the kind of love that bordered on hatred and only ended when one person died, or we both did.

  The car stopped and the driver was there, opening the door for me. Servario gave me one more look before he backed away and turned toward the apartment building.

  My poor battered heart tried to complain, but I reminded it we had done this to him. We had driven Servario mad. We had betrayed him first. I loved two men, never equally and never fairly.

  I climbed into the car and sat back.

  I didn't talk to the driver or tell him where to go.

  He left me one block over from the safe house. I climbed out and he drove off, not even saying goodnight.

  I didn't do the loser lap to check for tails. I didn't follow protocol.

  I walked right up to the front door, punched in the code, and stepped inside.

  Coop held a gun in my face for the second time in one day. “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hey,” I whispered back.

  “You okay?”

  “No.” I limped into the kitchen to sit down at the table to try to gather my thoughts.

  “What happened?” He followed me.

  “You and me happened,” I said softly.

  “You and me? Oh shit. He knew about the funeral? I’m so sorry, Evie. I put you in such a weird spot that day—”

  “No, Coop. I’m an adult. I should have chosen better. I should have been better. Honestly, I thought I was better.” I laughed bitterly, noticing the tenderness in my ribs. "I can't seem to choose one of you because I'd rather die than hurt either of you. I'm the worst person ever."

  “Don't say that. You are a good person.”
He knelt in front of me. His stare told me everything I needed to know about how in love with me he was.

  I wanted so badly to lean in and let him comfort me, but I needed to be better. I needed to let them both go. It was me. I was the problem.

  “I’m going to bed.” I winced as I got up and gripped my blanket tight.

  “Night, Evie,” he said softly, two words filled with many meanings. I love you, Evie. I want you, Evie. I forgive you, Evie.

  “Good night, Coop.” My words were filled with nothing. I refused to let my heart influence a single thing I did for the rest of my life. Clearly, it couldn't be trusted.

  I walked alone to the room that was designated mine.

  Luce and Jack were in one room. Simone and Coop would be in another. And me all alone.

  Exactly what I deserved.

  Exactly as Servario had planned it.

  8

  Tricksy hos

  “There it is.” Jack beamed, interrupting my random thoughts from his chair in the office, back at the house in the country.

  “What?”

  “The light, see?” He pointed at a single light shining from the dark grainy screen of one of the TVs. “That’s my zombie.”

  “Zombie?”

  “Yeah. I’ll try to keep this as layman as I can. My program used the nanobots to track him down using facial recognition and entered his body through his nose while he was sleeping. They slipped up into the part of the brain that—doesn't really matter, does it? They took over his brain and now he is under my control. He’s going to be the man who detonates the bomb that flattens the Burrow if we have to go that route.”

  “I knew it was zombies,” I blurted, not considering the fact Jack didn't know the story or that he had basically offended me for a whole minute straight.

  “Okay.” Jack sounded unsure. “Anyway, tell your mom it’s all a go. I have entered in her dates and times.”

  “My mom?”

  “Yeah, she needed to ensure our dates and times matched for the Burrow and Organization, so no one is missed in our mass murder.” It was creepy hearing someone like Jack say that. He was so dry. “I think she’ll make sure your dad gets out safely. Warn him about the bomb.”