The Spy Ring (Cake Love Book 4)

by Elizabeth Lynx

  I closed my eyes and sighed. As shaken up as I was from the attack, I was more worried at how I would explain it to David. The way he was glaring at Jagger, I knew I had to explain what happened right away. I didn’t want David to think anything bad about the man who saved me.

  “I was mugged.”

  “No,” David yelled as his eyes began to water.

  He stuffed his hand into his pocket and took something small and black out, rubbing it like it would help will away the tears. I couldn’t tell what the object was, perhaps one of his little ninja action figures he collects.

  “What?” I heard Henrik from behind.

  I turned but kept my hand on David’s shoulder. “I’m fine. Just got a scratch on my arm. Luckily, Jagger was nearby and saw what was happening.”

  All eyes turned toward Jagger as he stood by the back wall.

  “He stopped the guy, and the police arrested the attacker. Jagger saved me.”

  Henrik’s hands ran through his hair as he shook his head. He turned to Jagger. “I’m sorry. When I saw that she was hurt and you were here, I thought the worst. Thank you for helping Tiffany. We’d be lost without her.”

  I heard a gasp and turned to find my son with tears streaming down his face. Pulling him into an embrace, I held him as tight as I could.

  “I’m fine, David. It’s okay.” I ran my fingers through his soft wavy hair and kissed the top of his head.

  He was growing and becoming stronger every day, but David was always sensitive to other’s feelings. I remember him as a toddler watching cartoons, and anytime the characters started to cry, he did too.

  “You need to leave this neighborhood.” Henrik put on his demanding voice.

  “This is my home. Even if we did move out, our lease isn’t even up until the late autumn. Besides, this building has an elevator.”

  “But you don’t need an elevator anymore,” Henrik added.

  “But what about—” I stopped myself as I pulled away from David and stared at him.

  “About me? I can walk now, remember?” David said fisting the object in his hand and shoving it back into his pocket.

  That was true, but it wasn’t like he was running up and down stairs. His gait was still slow and he needed to continue to build his core for balance.

  “I don’t know,” I said watching David with unease.

  It was surprising how quickly David went from sad to irritated, but I should get used to it. He was a teenager now.

  “Really? You know I’m not crippled anymore, right?” David raised his voice.

  “David! Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that. We don’t use that word here.” I pushed my hands on my hips.

  “You don’t think I heard what everyone called me?” David turned to leave the doorway and walked toward his bedroom.

  “Who called you that? Because no one that cares about you would say that. Ever.” I followed him as anger pulsed through me in increasing speed.

  He turned to face me at his bedroom, gripping the doorframe. “It doesn’t matter who said that because they don’t anymore. People treat me like a regular kid now. All the good and all the bad that goes with it.”

  Even if David had to take his time speaking, it didn’t make his words any less impactful. “I like that. It was fine when those kids tried to steal my skateboard earlier this month because they thought I was like any of the kids there. But you . . .”

  He swallowed as he got himself under control. “Mom, you still treat me like the boy with a body that didn’t work. Why can’t you see that I’m average? I’m just an average teenager and I love that.”

  Tears were streaming down his face as he slammed the door. When I went to open his door, it was locked, so I knocked.

  “David. Please, open the door.”

  “Go away.” His muffled voice slipped through the cracks.

  My hand slipped from the brass doorknob and I stared at his plain white door. Nothing decorated it and with a heartbreaking realization, I knew there wasn’t much décor in his room either. No posters or paint or colorful curtains. The most interesting, unique thing in his room was his red sheets. And I didn’t even know if he still liked red. David enjoyed the color when he was five, but I haven’t asked him since.

  He was right. I treated him like he was just someone to take care of. That he had no thoughts or desires of his own. I only focused on what would keep him safe and healthy.

  “I’m a terrible mother,” I said and thought I had whispered to myself but someone was behind me.

  “No, you’re not.” Jagger’s hand came to my shoulder. It was warm and exactly what I needed so I turned into him. I let his arms wrap around me.

  “Let me talk to him. He was up late and probably a little cranky from the lack of sleep and the mugging bombshell,” Henrik said as he placed his hand on my back.

  I let Jagger walk me to the living room and we sat on the couch.

  I thought about every time I lost my temper or told David I needed to use the bathroom instead of reading his favorite book for the tenth time or any number of things that would nominate me for the worst mother of the year award.

  “Stop it,” Jagger said, placing his hand on mine.

  “Stop what?”

  “Beating yourself up. Mothers and sons fight all the time. It’s a rite of passage for a kid to slam their bedroom door in anger.” He smirked.

  “But he’s right,” I said.

  There was silence, and I raised my brow expecting Jagger to disagree with me.

  That’s what people do when they are trying to reassure someone who is feeling bad about themselves. They tell them things like, “no, you’re gorgeous,” or “no, you were the best girlfriend he ever had,” or “no, you are the best mom ever.” Especially that last one. He really should be saying that one to me.

  “Yes, David was right.”

  I pulled back from his hand, frowning. My face burned as I stumbled and tried to stand. Jagger stood to help me but I waved him away.

  “Don’t.” I took a breath as I straightened. “I may have coddled him a bit. And I may have been overwhelmed with having to take care of him alone. The only parent for the last decade. All the doctors and therapists and nurses that he required for ten years, I made the appointments and took him. I’m the one that spent hours and hours on the phone with the insurance company when they couldn’t fathom a child might need physical therapy or that he used up his oxygen supply for the year in July. Oxygen, to breath, to live.”

  I took another breath trying to calm down. “That may have been my focus for ten years. But that’s all I know. He gained freedom with that surgery in January, and I couldn’t be happier for him but where does that leave me? I can’t just flip a switch and let him walk out that door when just six months ago he couldn’t even feed himself.”

  Jagger took a step forward. “I understand, I do, but—”

  “You do? That’s funny because last I checked, the one thing I do know about you is that you’re alone. Are you the sole caregiver for a person, young or old?” I raised my brows waiting for an answer but he looked away.

  “I didn’t think so. I may not be a perfect mother, but I’m trying.” I took a breath and walked over to the front door, opening it. “I think I need to speak with my son, alone.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Jagger

  “Tiffany was right,” I said as I tore apart a paper napkin. “Everyone was right.”

  I slammed my fist on the round table causing it to wobble and my coffee to spill a few drops.

  “Why am I here?” Edgar asked, sitting across the booth from me at Wake Up Joe’s with wide eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, I chuckled in that way a person does when they know their life is shit.

  “Who am I to think I know better than a mother that has spent almost her entire kid’s life working hard to keep him healthy. To keep him alive. I’ve witnessed some terrible stuff as an agent and in my family. Things that would make you give up on hu
manity. Some things that parents do to their children, I still have nightmares about, but Tiffany is the opposite of that.”

  It had been two days since Tiffany kicked me out of her place after telling her that she needed to give her son more freedom. I’m such an ass. She’ll probably run back into the arms of that shirtless guy that she was in the picture with. He probably doesn’t judge her.

  I still hadn’t heard back from Tenn about anything he might have found out about that guy. Tenn probably didn’t even look into it. I really am alone.

  “Evaleen said you had something to tell me so I agreed to sit down to talk. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get back to my pregnant girlfriend who happens to be craving scones. Lots of scones.” Edgar got out of the booth, but I grabbed his arm and stared up into his gray eyes.

  “But I need your help.”

  Edgar’s eyes crinkled in satisfaction as he removed my hand from his arm like he was picking off a spider. He folded his arms and towered over me as I stayed seated. “Well, well, well, it seems the tables have turned. The big, thuggish agent now needs help from my tiny balls.”

  He glanced around realizing that a few people heard him. Edgar slid back into the booth. “Don’t think I forgot what you did to me.”

  “You mean when I saved you, your girlfriend, and her mom from impending death?” I sat back staring at him.

  Edgar cleared his throat. “That was your job, which you don’t even have any more from what I hear.”

  I held up my hands in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry I kneed you in your balls in the alleyway that one time. You were right, I didn’t have to do it.”

  “Then, why did you?”

  “You were there and you wouldn’t shut up. Asking all those questions about your supposed cousin, who wasn’t your cousin at all.” I tilted my head at him because he wasn’t as innocent in all this as he made himself out to be.

  “I thought you would take sympathy on me if I said Ashton was my cousin . . . that you might tell me something.”

  “I did take sympathy on you since I know what it was like to lose a cousin in a terrible way. You’re lucky I didn’t do more than knee you after I found out he wasn’t your cousin and who you really were.” I pointed at Edgar.

  My shoulders fell as I leaned back in my seat. “I do a lot of things I wouldn’t or couldn’t normally do when I’m undercover. Some things I shouldn’t do, like kneeing you in your junk. Some things are fun little perks like staying in a big suite in Las Vegas a few months back because Emma Hawthorne rented out the floor of the hotel.”

  “Fine. I guess we’re even. I lied to you to get information and you kneed me in the balls. What is the help you need from me? If it’s to lie to Tiffany, that’s not going to happen. She’s a sweet and a thoughtful woman, and I’m not about to deceive her.”

  She’s not as sweet as you think. There’s a wicked side to her that’s just as addictive.

  “I don’t want you to lie to her. I want you to give her this letter.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the slightly wrinkled envelope. “I get the feeling if I mailed it to her, she’d only throw it in the trash.”

  He took the envelope from my hand. “Fine but I don’t think I’ll have a chance to see Tiffany until the rehearsal dinner next week. With work, getting everything ready for Henrik’s bachelor night, and dealing with Evaleen’s unique cravings, I got a lot on my plate.”

  I nodded. “That’s fine. It was time for me to be honest with her. The good and the bad. If she hates me I wanted it to be for the truth and not because she thinks I believe she’s a bad mother. If anything, she’s better than most parents I have come in contact with.”

  “Wow, she must hate you. Did you really tell her she was a bad mom?” Edgar leaned forward.

  “No, I didn’t. I just agreed with her son when they were having a fight—”

  “Oh no. You don’t ever do that. Look, I’m going to let you in on something. I may not be a parent or, obviously a woman,” he waved a hand across his chest, “but I do know how women think. No matter what the woman says, you agree with her. She is always right. As for David, he has friends that he can complain to about his mom. It’s what all kids do, but Tiffany, she needs her friends to back her up. You understand?”

  “Not really. What happens when Tiffany is wrong about something. Say hypothetically, it’s life-threatening. That her wrong decision will cost the life of someone. Then I really shouldn’t agree with her.”

  I realized where Edgar was going with this, but I still felt that if Tiffany wanted to be the best mom she could be and loved David, then she needed to hear the truth no matter how much it hurt.

  “That’s when you let a doctor handle it. Tell her you both need to ask an expert, obviously. But, with anything else, I would go along with whatever she says. Remember, David isn’t your son, and Tiffany isn’t your wife or even your girlfriend.”

  He had a point.

  “Okay, I still think she deserves the truth but if Evaleen trusts you, then I guess you know what you’re talking about.”

  I had spent some time with Evaleen before I was fired, as she finally agreed to train to become an agent. I wondered if she told Edgar. She said she didn’t want to be a field agent, which was a relief considering she had a baby on the way. But, she was very interested in our Intelligence Analysis department. She would analyze the intelligence gathered and help our agents predict possible outcomes in the field, like the next move a criminal we were watching might take.

  Edgar nodded. “Now that’s settled. I have to take this bag of scones back to Evaleen before she sends out a search party.”

  Just before he turned to leave I said, “Has Evaleen told you yet?”

  I had to ask to see if she told him yet, wondering how Edgar would handle that.

  His brow creased. “Told me what?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  Edgar leaned forward wanting to know more so I pointed to his bag. “Better get those back to Evaleen before she comes looking for you.”

  His eyes widened and he turned his head, looking out the café window. He grabbed the paper bag that was on the table and my letter before rushing out the door.

  I decided it was time to head out of here and sulk in my crappy apartment. Taking a few last sips of coffee, I threw it in the trash before I left.

  It took a bus ride and a ten-minute walk, but I made it to my place. Just as I entered my apartment door and threw my keys on the television console that was three feet from the door, my buzzer rang.

  Groaning, I pressed the talk button expecting to hear a food delivery guy that got the wrong apartment number. It happened on occasion here. But the voice I heard crackling back from the speaker surprised me.

  “Hi. It’s Tiffany. Can I talk to you?”

  I hit the open button for the door and wondered how she got my address. Opening the door to my apartment, I waited for her to appear at the top of the stairs. When she did, my heart picked up its pace as if I was the one winded from climbing the stairs.

  “Top floor?” she said pulling at the collar of her pink dress, letting a light breeze underneath.

  “Nothing but the best.” I smirked, stepping inside my place and holding the door as she walked past.

  “It’s uh, quaint.” Her eyes surveyed my small living room and the window that gave a sprawling view of the train tracks.

  I waved her over to my brown leather couch which took up half the length of the room. She sat giving me a small smile. Her thick, gorgeous hair was pulled back into a braid and the loosened pieces that fell stuck to her face.

  “Would you like some ice water?” I asked.

  “Yes, please. Don’t you have air-conditioning?”

  I got up and went behind the wall to my small galley kitchen to retrieve a glass. “Yes. I have wall units, but when I turn them on, it’s too loud to hear anything so I save it for the night when I’m sleeping.”

  After I filled her cup with ice and wat
er, I came back giving her the refreshing drink. She took a few gulps before pressing the glass to her forehead.

  “It doesn’t bother you when you sleep? The noise?”

  “I got used to it. Besides, being an agent, I never spent much time here. When I used to be one, anyway.” I shrugged.

  Her eyes glanced around and it gave me a chance to study her. Even with the muggy heat of the apartment and how uncomfortable she was, Tiffany never let on she was unhappy. In fact, she smiled every chance she could.

  That’s what I kept my eyes on, her lips. Her grin did something to me. The curve of her lips was more than just a turn on, it was life-giving. Her smile could light the way at night, and still have me refreshed by morning.

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said as the light in her face died with her grin.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you were honest with me when discussing David and I yelled at you for it. And, you were right.” She sighed putting the glass down on the small oval coffee table. “I think that’s why I got so defensive.”

  “You are a great mom to that boy. Please don’t doubt that. If that’s what you thought I meant, it’s not.”

  Tiffany turned to the side, raising her knee on the couch. “I don’t know anymore. I used to think I was good but maybe I only know how to take care of a boy whose body has rendered him helpless. Now that he’s not vulnerable and can do most things by himself, I’m the one left feeling helpless.”

  “That doesn’t stop you from being his mom. He may not need you to help him as much, but he still needs you.” I took her cool hand in mine, giving it a squeeze.

  “But I worry so much, still. That there will be that one moment, when I’m not there, and everything will go wrong.” Her eyes became glassy as she turned her head from me.

  “Then worry. Or better yet, let someone help distract you.” I glanced down at her lips.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Jagger

  “But, I’m alone. It’s not like I have anyone there with me when all the bad thoughts come creeping into my head,” Tiffany said as she looked up at me.