Prisoner (All of You Book 1)

by Silvey, Melissa

  Lani

  “Do you really dress like that? Like, do you wear that every day, or just on fed day?” He asks, when we’re both dressed. The shirt wasn’t big enough for him, so we had to leave it unbuttoned. I think it’s kinda sexy.

  “What was your major in college? Sarcasm and witty repartee?” I fight the urge to run and look at myself in the mirror. I think I look just fine in my light gray pantsuit with my sensible shoes, and a dark gray, long-sleeved half-cotton, half-spandex shirt. “Maybe I intimidate you, because my clothes are comfortable, and I don’t need to look sexy to get a man’s approval, or pick up chicks.”

  One dark eyebrow raises when I say that. He’s sitting in his bed, with his head propped all the way up so he can eat the two breakfasts they brought him and watch TV. We’re all over the news. There is new video now, showing a blonde with a red dress and a gun. They’re calling me the Sexy Sentinel.

  “I like it that you’re not intimidated by me, or get your feelings hurt when I say shit I shouldn’t. And if you do get mad, don’t be afraid to call out me on it.”

  “Oh, I’m not afraid, I’m the Sexy Sentinel,” I say. “You can be my side-kick.”

  The door opens, and as if right on time, Killian strides in wearing his most expensive suit. “Hey, Sexy Sentinel.” He says it with a straight face.

  “Meet my side-kick, Sarcasm Man.” I reply smartly, and point at Tony, “He’s watching himself cower behind me, like a good side-kick should.”

  “Did you say I was cowering? I was just looking at your ass,” he says with narrowed, black as coal eyes.

  “As was everyone else, and now the entire world,” Killian says. “The Attorney General has called about you, Sarcasm Man.”

  “I like Gladiator so much better now,” he remarks, and continues eating.

  “I find it hard to believe you’ve met a man who is more of a smart aleck than you are. I’m surprised you found anyone, male or female, who can put you in your place,” Killian says, but his voice dwindles off when he gets to the end of his thought. He looks at me sheepishly, then he turns to Tony as if for support.

  “I’m not touching that one, man,” Tony shrugs. “Just not doing it.”

  “The AG has called about Tony, and…” I try to change the subject.

  “I think the new president wants to reopen the cases. Your dad called, and said the attorney you hired would be here at nine o’clock this morning. I asked him why he called me, and he said ‘He didn’t want to disturb you two.’ Like this is the fucking honeymoon suite.” Killian doesn’t look as mad as his words sound.

  “Is the sarcasm in the room rubbing off on you, or are you really pissed? I never could tell the difference,” I admit. Tony glares at me. I give him a taunting, so-there smile. He glares back, harder.

  “I don’t care, I just don’t want the shit to fly back at me. But I think one of the radio talk guys called him a ‘walking, talking, fighting, monument to freedom’ today. The irony is you’re in jail, and the previous administration put you there.” Killian’s happy he has the attention of both of us. “They can’t find anyone who will say a bad word about you, that isn’t a shill for the last president. Pretty soon they’ll have a statue of you at the National Mall.” He waits a moment, then says, “That’s all, for now. You talk.”

  “How much for the book deal? Five million dollars, or ten?” Tony asks. I can tell he’s not teasing. “I mean, it’s just my life, my reputation, my freedom, and my family they took. Can we put a price on that? And if the fucking president wants to be pissed that I’m sleeping with someone, you can tell him, he owes me: ten years, a wife, and two kids.”

  “I worked so hard on his defense. I worked countless hours, for years, until we exhausted every appeal. They took my children’s father, and they took my husband. And they put him in a cage and ask him to fight again? It’s just horrific. How do you think I feel?” We all three stop when we hear the words come out of the TV. She wipes a tear off her cheek when she’s finished. The woman is pretty. She’s Italian, obviously. The caption says she is Lucy Roman Ferris, ex-wife of war hero Antony Roman.

  “I don’t fucking believe it. That is un-fucking-believable. That woman filed divorce papers before I was even found guilty, and she remarried less than a year after I was sent to prison. I need to tell my side of the story,” Tony demands.

  “Listen, if you go on TV and try to make her look bad, you’ll tarnish your own image. You need to say how sorry you are that all of this happened to her, and your children, and you can’t wait to see them. That’s it,” Killian states emphatically.

  I walk to Tony, and sit on the bed near him. I talk as softly, and solemnly as I can. “I agree. If you go and try to drag her name through the mud now, it will look petty. Tell them you’re glad she moved on.”

  “I’m making a statement at the FBI building at the state capital in forty-five minutes. You want to ride with me? Or are you going to take a taxi back to your office?” Killian asks.

  “I am on leave,” I say.

  “Your dad wants you in this morning, and he’s the boss.”

  I touch Tony’s hand. He doesn’t try to take mine, but he also doesn’t pull away. We stare into each other’s eyes for several moments. “I’m so sorry all of this happened to you. If I could change it, I swear to God I would.”

  He gives me a weak smile. “You already did.” It sends shivers over my entire body. For such a wiseass, he knows exactly what to say, at the right time.

  I grab my purse, but leave everything else there. It tells him I plan to come back. “I’ll see you later,” I say, as Killian walks out the door.

  “I’ll be here,” Tony replies. “Good luck.”

  “You too.” I open the door, and join Killian in the hallway.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lani

  Killian told me the specifics of the investigation during the car ride there. The FBI took control of the prison and the jail. The governor had to call in a National Guard squad to stand as guards, while the FBI weeded out who knew what and when. The only ones I knew for sure were involved were De Soto, Hughes, and Drake. He had returned to the arena after he allowed me to spend the night with Tony.

  “And you’re never going to let me forget you allow me to see him, are you?” I ask, as he holds the car door open for me, after we park.

  “Nope,” he replies with a devious sparkle in his brown eyes I’d never seen in the two years we dated. Maybe we can be better friends than lovers.

  “With a system that employs hundreds of people, I don’t know if you’ll ever know for sure who knew what, when.” I frown, as we walk toward the stage that’s set up in front of his office building. Fifty or so people are already gathered around, most of which look like media types.

  “You handed me a doozey, Lani. Thanks.” He leads me to where my dad is waiting, shakes hands with him, then walks up the steps to shake hands with a man in an even more expensive suit.

  “I think you just created a monster, sweetie,” Dad observes.

  “A monster who I’m going to owe a favor,” I reply back, with an almost fake sneer.

  “How’s your SEAL?”

  I smile, and shrug. “He’s as good as can be expected. Dad, I want you to build up his confidence, but it’s got to be slow. I think, maybe, reminding him he was a SEAL might not be the best thing right now. It’s part of his life that was stolen from him. I know he’s had a decade to deal with that, but I think this whole immediate transition from war criminal to war hero might confuse him a little.” Is that me, talking psychobabble? Is that me, actually worrying about another person’s feelings?

  He studies me for a moment. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

  “Dad, he’s everything I never thought I wanted. He’s harsh, crass, and he has absolutely no filter.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know and love,” he says with a grin.

  “But he’s also sensitive, and kind, and caring. He’s a loving f
ather, and tender, sweet, gentle. He’s also emotional, and that’s hard for me to deal with.”

  “Lani, you’re a strong, independent woman. You’re a fighter, and I’m proud of you for that. But I think Roman might be helping you embrace your feminine side. You practically glow when you talk about him. It’s cute.”

  I touch my stomach, and watch as Killian’s boss takes the stage. He gives credit to his team, his employees, and Killian. He doesn’t even mention me.

  When Killian is standing in front of the microphone, he talks about the process, the technical aspect, and the investigation. He doesn’t mention me either. At this point, I’m a little pissed.

  “If that had been in our jurisdiction, you’d be standing up there with your chest puffed out, handing me all the credit,” I sulk.

  “Drop it, and don’t argue,” he states, definitively.

  “I’m just saying, this is my collar. I should be standing up there giving speeches.” I’m not a glory hound, I just want to be recognized for what I did.

  “Snitch!” I hear from beside me, and then I see a man reach behind his back, and into his waistband. It happens very fast, but I have enough time to reach out and punch him in the stomach.

  My dad reacts first, and pulls his gun on the guy. That causes the feds to pull their guns, and in a few seconds the guy is grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. One of the agents pulls the gun out of his hand, and tosses it to the ground, before another handcuffs him.

  Dad grabs my arm, and leads me to an SUV. I see Killian running towards us and pointing at it in my peripheral vision. Dad pushes me into the back seat, then climbs in beside me. Killian climbs into the driver’s side.

  “I told you she shouldn’t be here,” Charlie Vaden growls. This is the cop side of him, I know it well.

  “I thought she had a right to know where the investigation is going,” Killian argues. “I thought she’d be safe.”

  “You could have sent a text,” Dad counters, angrily.

  “Have there been threats against me?” Neither man answers. “Tell me!”

  “A few very powerful people would be happy if this investigation doesn’t continue, and without any witnesses that actually saw the death matches, it could unravel.” Killian tries to be diplomatic.

  “How many men are at the hospital?” I demand.

  “I have two officers there doing general security, and two feds are standing guard at the hospital,” Dad tells me. “For someone to try to shoot you up close, in front of the Federal Building, takes guts.”

  “Or he’s just plain stupid. Who thinks they’re going to get away after something like that?” I wonder.

  “Maybe someone who thought he didn’t necessarily have to get away, he could get off,” Killian points out.

  “This is getting way too fucking deep,” I say, as we pull up at General Hospital. I’m suddenly worried about Doctor Dad. “What about Doctor Foster?”

  “One of the officers is keeping an eye on him,” Dad assures me. We’re on our way to the elevator, and I notice two security guards standing by the entrance with hand held metal detectors. We all three flash our badges, because my tiny gun is tucked away in my purse.

  I am nervous as we stand in the elevator, listening to elevator music. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous, even on the job. I can hear the blood pounding in my ears. When the door opens, the two feds are still sitting in front of his room. I now feel silly, as all three of us barge into his room and interrupt Tony’s meeting with his lawyer.

  Tony

  “Twenty-five million dollars. That’s apparently how much my life is worth,” I exclaim, when I see the three of them enter the room. “I wouldn’t have made that in ten lifetimes as a SEAL.”

  “A publisher is purportedly hoping to offer that much for the book deal and movie rights,” the lawyer gently corrects his client. “I’m Jack Worthington, by the way.” He shakes hands with Lani, and Chief Vaden, and Killian introduces himself as well.

  “The DOJ probably won’t offer that much,” I continue angrily. “If they decide to even reopen our cases.” Lani moves closer to me. I finally see something’s wrong. She has that cat on a hot tin roof vibe going on again.

  “Sorry, we’ll leave until you’re finished. We just wanted to make sure everything is okay. We’ll wait outside,” Chief Vaden says, and he’s not smiling.

  “No, what’s wrong?” I demand, and look at Lani. She looks away, but her hand is on the foot of the bed. She’s even got her legs spread, her shoulders are squared, and she’s standing between me and the door. She’s in a protective stance.

  “Nothing, I…” Lani looks at her dad. “Can you get me some aspirin?”

  “Sure thing, sweetie,” he says, and hurries out the door.

  “I’m going to go coordinate,” Killian says, and also leaves.

  “What’s happened, Lani? Tell me.” I climb out of the bed, and go to her side. She looks flushed.

  “We can continue tomorrow,” the lawyer assures me, and shakes my hand. “I think we have the gist of what to expect. Take care,” he says as he leaves.

  “Some stupid guy tried to pull a gun on me,” she says, then wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”

  “A guy pulls a gun on you, and you’re worried about me?” I can’t even put the pieces together in my head. “I’m a SEAL, Lani. Do you know how many guns I’ve had pointed at me?” She shakes her head, and I feel her soft cheek against my chest. I’m hard, and feeling protective at the same time. “I’m the protector here, Lani.” My hand moves down to her stomach. She doesn’t argue. She looks up at me, and gives me a nod. I smile down at her. “We are one fierce team.”

  “I love you, Tony.”

  Her dad returns with some aspirin, and a bottle of water. She takes it, and Chief Vaden glances over at me. “She’ll be fine.”

  “I know. You two sit tight for a while. I’ll be back shortly.”

  I pick up the TV remote, but she crosses her arms and turns her back. “I don’t want to watch. I’m living it.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t turn it on.” I look at the bed, and the chair. I’d give anything for a couch right now. “Come here,” I take her hand, and pull her toward the uncomfortable chair. Then I sit in it, and pull her into my lap, cradling her like a child. She tries to act like she’s struggling, but she puts her hand inside my shirt and wiggles against my thighs. I wonder if she’s ever let a man hold her like this. Probably not.

  “I was so scared,” she admits, as if she’s never felt fear in her life.

  “When he pulled the gun?” I ask.

  “When I was in the elevator just now,” she says. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  I smile, and rub her hair lightly. She is becoming my entire life, and I might be becoming hers, too. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. We sit there in silence for several minutes, only the sounds of the hospital as background noise. “What kind of music do you like?” she asks quietly.

  “Country, I guess, if I had to pick. I listen to whatever’s on the radio. I don’t really think about it,” I admit.

  “I like rock, but not hard rock. I like pop or hip hop when I’m working out.”

  “While we were in training, we’d run or swim for miles without music. I guess I just don’t think about it now.” I wonder if she’s just trying to fill the silence, or trying to get to know me. “Where would you like to go on our first date, since I’m a millionaire now, hypothetically?

  ”You should set up some kind of trust fund for your kids. If you just hand it to them, they’ll have to pay taxes on it. Of course, you can buy them stuff.”

  “Where did you learn so much about financial planning?” I chuckle a little.

  “My mom had two or three, and she set a couple up for me and Addison. My dad set up a college fund for me when I was a baby. Doctor Dad set one up for me too, and one for Addison. They decided that I should get hers. They did
n’t want the money. My cottage is almost paid off now,” she says, grimly.

  “I guess I didn’t realize how much money you have.” I hadn’t thought about it, really.

  “Most of it’s in the cottage. I have a retirement fund, of course, through work. And I have a stock portfolio. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “I know where to go for investment advice, after the book deal.” I say it lightly, but I’m seriously thinking about taking the money. Not that I can spend it in prison, but like Lani said, for my kids. All three of them.

  “Could you quit work, to take care of the baby? If, you know, you had money?”

  “Sure, I guess, for a few years until the baby starts school, or whatever. I don’t know. I don’t see me sipping cocktails by the pool like my mom.” She shrugs.

  “You don’t talk much about your mom,” I state the obvious.

  “I didn’t turn out to be what she wanted me to be. I was a disappointment, but Addison was just like her, just like she wanted.”

  “I think we’re both dealing with loss. I have the future in front of me now. I might be free, I might have money. And all I can think about is what if my kids reject me?” I touch her hair, and realize, “I’ve never been able to open up to a woman like this.”

  We stare into each other’s eyes. “Maybe you know I won’t judge you, just like I know you won’t judge me. It’s very freeing to be accepted in that respect.” She giggles, and touches my face. “I think I’ll become a self-help guru.”

  The phone rings, and she reluctantly gets up to answer it. “Room 310. Yes. Yes,” she says. She listens for a moment, then nods and looks at me. “Yes, sir, I understand. Thank you, sir. Thank you.” She’s oddly formal. She hands the phone out toward me, and says, “It’s the president.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Tony

  “The president wants to talk to me?” I ask, more than a little stunned. I thought his lawyer would call my lawyer, or whatever.