by Siobhan Muir
“Come on, darlin’. What do you see?”
I swallowed hard. “I know him. I know Roy. He works for the FBI.”
Chapter Eleven
Scott
I knew it!
That’s the first thought that roared through my head. I knew Roy was undercover FBI, and that explained why he was avoiding Oriana while she was here. He didn’t want her to recognize him.
“Who is he really, Oriana?” Michael’s gaze met mine over her head.
“His name is Arnold Eisenburg. I don’t know what department he worked in, but…” She trailed off and swallowed hard, all the blood leaving her face. “H-he was good friends…with…”
She swallowed again and clenched her hands into fists as she closed her eyes, shaking her head. I recognized that reaction and stepped forward to grasp her fists in my hands, holding them loosely.
“I got you, Oriana. I’m here. You’re safe with the Concrete Angels.” I hoped that was true. I hoped Loki wouldn’t see the connections between her and Roy, no matter how tenuous. “Breathe. No one can touch you. You’re in Loki’s office. Roy can’t get you here. You’re safe.”
I kept my voice even and massaged her hands with my thumbs, hoping she wouldn’t completely succumb to a PTSD episode. She kept shaking her head, her breath coming in short pants. She made some noises and at first, I thought she was moaning, but when I dipped my head, I could make out words.
“No, no. How did he find me? Does he know? Did they both know? Did Mel know? Why won’t he leave me alone? I walked away. I lost everything. Why won’t he leave me alone?”
I looked up at Michael and shook my head, but I kept rubbing her hands in hopes I’d get through to her. He took a few steps closer and rested his hands on her shoulders. She jumped at first but calmed as a soft, soothing hum filled the air. My own heartbeat slowed and my anger dissipated as Michael closed his eyes and bowed his head. A glow filled the room, making the space seem warmer, softer, a place of comfort.
Oriana’s tension gradually reduced and so did mine, as if we’d become connected. I didn’t like it when she was afraid. I’d do my damnedest to make sure she wasn’t afraid again. As long as she stayed with me, I’d protect her.
Oriana stopped shaking her head and her breathing returned to normal. So had the humming and light. In fact, I wondered if I’d imagined it as she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, meeting mine.
“Arnold Eisenburg was good friends with my rapist, Dirk Hopkins. If Arnold is undercover here in the Concrete Angels, Dirk knows about me. And if he comes near me again, I’m gonna shoot him. Are we clear?”
Her steady, firm statement made my lips curl in a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She turned her attention to Loki. “I have nothing to do with Arnold or Roy or whoever he is. Mel befriended me a little under a year ago and she never mentioned that her boyfriend was FBI. She just called him Roy and said he was with the Concrete Angels. But I know Arnold was part of the Old Boy’s club at the Denver office of the FBI and he helped discredit me.” Fury rippled across her face for a moment before it sank into her impassive mask. “If I see him, I’m liable to shoot him, too.”
Loki grinned. “I just might let you do that, Ms. Hunter. But in the meantime, we first have to figure out where the money has gone and how to get it back before we kill him, ja?”
“That I can help you with.” Oriana spun to her laptop and started tapping on the keys. “I know where it went, but I don’t have any way to get into the accounts.”
“How many accounts are we talkin’ here?” I stood behind her to get a nice view of her ass and to look over her shoulder. It was a guy thing and she had a fantastic ass.
“Eight.” She clicked on a few windows and opened them up before spinning the screen toward Loki. “They’re under some variation of Huntsman or Orion, scattered across several banks in Europe and the Cayman Islands. Like I said, I found them and their amounts, but can’t see the activity within them.”
Loki smiled. “That’s Neo’s job. He’ll get into them to recover our money.”
She nodded. “Then, I guess that’s it. I’ll make sure Neo has all the information that I found and you understand how the system works so you can keep track of your funds. And I’ll be on my way.”
I frowned. “On your way?”
“Yeah.” She nodded as she made sure the files were in order. “My contract has concluded. I did what y’all asked and now it’s time for me to go home.”
I shot a look at Michael and Neo. Both men had stilled, their expressions uneasy. Loki, however, looked subtly amused. Oriana’s eyes narrowed.
“I am going home. We both signed a contract, in blood no less.” She raised her chin. “We all agreed.”
Loki nodded as he rose to his feet, his half-amused look remaining. “We did agree, but that was before you found our money, reorganized our financial holdings and income streams, and got a good look at where the money comes from.” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “You see why it would be dangerous to allow you to leave. I cannot have someone with that much knowledge of my enterprises walking around where just anyone could get to you.”
“I’m bound by the accountant-client privilege where I can’t share secrets without serious repercussions.” She shook her head, her expression set. “The contract you signed says I’m free to go.”
“You should’ve read it more carefully, Ms. Hunter.”
“I did read it carefully. I was there when it was written.”
“Ah, but it says you can only go if you cannot reveal the financial secrets of the Concrete Angels.”
“And I won’t.”
“It didn’t say “will not,” it said “can not.” Which means you’re still capable of revealing the secrets.” He tilted is head with that infuriating half-smile that always pissed me off when it was aimed at me. “As I see it there are only two ways you “can not” reveal our finances. Either you stay with the Concrete Angels, or you die. The choice is yours.”
Panic and protest roared through me, coming out in a growl. There was no way in hell I’d let Loki kill Oriana, national Prez of our organization or not. Oriana was my woman, someone I protected, and killing her was out of the question as far as I was concerned.
“No. No, no, no. This isn’t how this is supposed to work. We had a deal.” Oriana’s hands tightened into fists.
“And we still do. No clause in this contract has been broken.” Loki paused and his gaze slid over to me with that damnable half-smile. “Unless you consider your activities with Scott constitute unwanted molestation, though I’d argue you consented with abandon.”
She blushed, but I didn’t think it was from embarrassment. Her fury rolled through the room like a sixty-mile-an-hour wind gust as she leveled her gaze on me. I took a step back despite her smaller stature. This woman wasn’t someone I’d willingly cross.
“You set this up, didn’t you, Scott?” She snarled the words though she hadn’t moved. “You kept hinting about me staying, but you never once said I couldn’t go. Not once. You lied to me.”
“Oriana—”
“I don’t need to hear anything from you, Michael.” She threw her furious gaze at him. “You do this big thing about family and loyalty and belonging. But you know what’s most important about all those things? Honesty. Brutal sometimes, even heartbreaking, but still complete honesty. And you gave me nothing of that.”
She swung back to Loki. “I don’t choose death.” She packed up her laptop and headed for the door of his office, totally ignoring me.
“Oriana, wait.” I took a few steps toward her, but I wasn’t stupid enough to grab her arm as she rounded on me.
“Stay the fuck away from me, Scott.”
“I never lied to you.”
“Stop.” She held up her free hand. “Don’t hand me the ‘omission of full truth’ argument. That’s a cop-out and you know it. You could’ve been honest. You could’ve told me I was stuck here forever, bu
t you were too busy charming your way into my bed. Congratulations, you got what you wanted. Hoped you enjoyed it.” She shook her head, the corners of her mouth pulling down as if she fought not to cry. “That’s all you’ll ever get from me.”
A soft sob made her breath catch and damn near gutted me. “Goddess-damned Hotel California.” She yanked the door open and was gone.
Three pairs of eyes landed on me and I mentally cringed. I didn’t need to look to know Michael handed me compassion, Neo offered pity, and Loki slapped me with avid amusement. The bastard loved to see people struggle.
The problem was, I didn’t know what to do. Oriana was right that I hadn’t told her everything, or made it clear that she’d missed something. And I had charmed my way into her bed, but not ensure the unwanted attention clause. I wanted her, all of her, as she was, and I didn’t want her to leave.
Now she’d stay, but I ended up farther away than if she’d gone back to her apartment in Fort Collins.
“Hey, Scott, it’ll be okay. Just give her a chance to calm down.” Michael gave me a hesitant smile.
“Shut up, Michael. If you think that, then you don’t know Oriana very well.” I shook my head. “She doesn’t forgive liars who betray her trust. And I’ve done both.” I headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Loki still wore the damn smirk.
“To get a fuckin’ drink.” I’d need at least a five gallon bucket to drown the pain ripping through my chest, and I wasn’t sure that’d be enough.
****
Oriana
I slammed my cabin door and locked it. I wanted to throw the laptop against the wall, but even if it wasn’t technically mine, I didn’t destroy property.
Oh yeah, Hunter? Still fucking following the rules?
The inner voice infuriated me more. Here I was because I’d signed a contract that I’d thought Loki would adhere to. And he had, after a fashion. No one could reasonably expect he’d weasel out of it on the other definition of can. I certainly hadn’t, but then I didn’t think his name was anything more than a nickname.
Fuck that. He acts like the goddess-damned God of Mischief for real.
A shiver slithered up my spine at that thought. What if…? I snorted and shook my head, but the unease remained. It didn’t matter really. I was stuck here.
“I told you, Melinda! I TOLD YOU!” I roared the words into the silence of my cabin. “It’s mudfucking Hotel California, a thrice-damned cult!”
I didn’t feel better knowing I was right. I’d signed the contract with the wording that allowed Loki to keep me here. Of course, if I could find a lawyer, they could argue for reasonable expectation or something like that, but he wouldn’t let me leave to get one.
Still following the rules.
Damn right I was. Just because the Concrete Angels had no honor or integrity didn’t mean I followed right along. But my lofty morals and beliefs amounted to less than a hill of beans in my predicament. I threw myself into the little loveseat in my living room and drew my knees up to my chest.
I had to come up with a plan. How the hell was I going to get out of this? Technically, Loki had me by the short hairs. He said I was physically able—or was that fiscally able?—to pass on his financial secrets. But that wasn’t truly the case without the laptop that sat on the table. I shot a look over to the offending machine.
Only the pathways and links on the computer made me capable of knowing their secrets. If I could show him I didn’t have possession of the laptop, I could weasel my own way out of the contract. It was a technicality, but that’s how he’d set up the game, and two could play that way.
All of which was only to keep my mind off of Scott and his betrayal, his lying by omission. Just thinking about him made my stomach contract like someone had stabbed me in the chest. Hell, being shot would feel better.
All the men who’d shown interest in me, romantically or otherwise, had betrayed me in one way or another. I didn’t know why I’d thought Scott might have been different. Maybe it was because the other men I’d been with had been hiding behind a respectable image. Scott had sauntered in with his cocky biker persona and I thought that would clear him to be honest.
I guess it just goes to prove when someone tells you who they are, believe them.
I rested my head on my knees and let the tears out. I’d wanted to believe in Scott. I’d gotten used to being with him, sharing the space and meals. And I’d actually liked the sex. I didn’t expect to like sex ever again after my rape, but Scott proved me wrong.
That wasn’t the only thing I was wrong about him.
I let myself cry for a while, letting the hurt sift through me. I should’ve known better than to believe Scott when he said he’d have my back. The club came first, as I’d known it would, and he took the path of least resistance.
Least resistance.
Maybe that’s what I needed to do, too. Loki required me to stay, but the contract only covered the project of Roy’s embezzlement. I’d finished it, solved his problem. I couldn’t leave the compound, but I didn’t have to do anything more for the Concrete Angels. I could eat, live, lounge around, and do nothing without breaking my contract. And I’d give the laptop back to Neo so I couldn’t actually pass on the financial secrets of the club.
The path of least resistance. That would be me.
Except it sounded fucking boring. I wondered which of us would get annoyed with the arrangement first. My tears slowed though the pain remained, and I slowly uncurled before my body locked up that way.
Thunder rumbled outside and I shot a look out the window. Storm clouds had gathered while I moped and it sounded like the rain would start soon. The weather seemed to be mimicking my mood. I rose and headed for my kitchenette to start some tea.
As I waited for it to boil, my thoughts drifted toward Roy/Arnold and how long he’d been undercover in the Concrete Angels. His assignment had to have started after I left the FBI because I’d periodically saw him with Dirk while I worked there. They were good buddies and Arnold had vouched for Dirk’s character after I went to H.R. New anger kindled in my chest as the rain pounded on the windows.
Arnold made sure I was discredited. It would’ve been unkind to not return the favor. My dark humor only made me smile. But if I recognized him, he probably recognized me the moment I stepped onto the compound. Which meant if he left the compound while I’d been here, he’d most likely reported my presence to his handler and Dirk.
The old fear crept up and damn near strangled me. I’d packed my shit and left Denver after I quit the FBI. I’d closed all my social media accounts, cut off contact with mutual friends, and disappeared for a while. The FBI had given me a severence package as if to assuage a guilty conscience, and I lived on that for six months before I was able to start my modest at-home accounting business. No one seemed to be looking for me and I slowly relaxed my concern for retribution.
But if Arnold had told Dirk I was here with the Concrete Angels, he’d know where to find me.
Don’t be ridiculous, Hunter. He’d need a legitimate reason to come here and a warrant.
The kettle whistled and I pulled it off the stove, my mind sifting through possibilities. Would he bother after all this time? It’d been more than two years, and I’d only done the minimum disappearing act. I’m sure the FBI kept tabs on me after I left just to make sure I didn’t cause more trouble for one of its golden sons. He could’ve dipped into the records to find me.
My gut told me I needed to be prepared, even if I couldn’t think of a logical reason why Dirk would waste the time. And if he made the effort, he might concoct an excuse to come up to the compound with the FBI in tow. He could choose anything, and Arnold probably supplied him with suggestions.
Drug lab. Weapons cache. Money laundering. The possibilities were vast. Most judges would believe a highly decorated and respected agent’s probable cause allegations. It wouldn’t take Dirk and Arnold long to plan a raid.
The question was, did I t
ell my hosts about it before it happened, or did I let them get caught with their pants down? Gonna follow the rules again, Hunter? Or are you gonna fuck up the Old Boys club’s victory? Actually it came down to who did I want to fuck over most, the Concrete Angels or the FBI?
“That’s a damn good question.”
I poured my tea as I considered, both groups deserving of my ire. But the FBI owed me big time, whereas my situation with the Concrete Angels was my own fault. The FBI deserved a good fucking-over.
I grabbed my phone and punched in Michael’s number, hitting send.
“Hello, Oriana. Are you all right?”
“Just peachy. Listen, more than likely Roy’s told his handler about me and figures I’ve recognized him. I suspect he knows his cover has been blown and the FBI will stage a raid on the compound after his years of data gathering.” I pulled the teabag out of my cup. “If you have anything you don’t want the Feds to see, I suggest you get rid of it now. I don’t know how much time you have before they show up here.”
There was a short silence on the other end of the phone. “Thank you. Why are you telling me this, if I may ask?”
“Because I know how the FBI works and because they fucking hung me out to dry by defending the man who raped me. I think they should get used to being wrong.” I swung my gaze around the room. “Oh, and tell Neo to come get his fucking laptop.”
I hung up before Michael could say anything else and took my tea in to the bedroom to drink while I turned my brain off by binge-watching a show about the devil falling in love with a homicide detective.
Yeah, like that would happen. About as probable as a cocky biker falling for a nerdy number cruncher. I ignored the tears sliding down my cheeks as I turned on the show.
