You are Mine

by Lisa G Riley

  Jonathan fidgeted. “It’s only that --”

  “Tell me, baby brother,” Alexander interrupted in a seemingly placid tone, “how else should treachery be punished?”

  Jonathan shrugged and Alexander resisted the urge to smash his face in. Even as a child he hadn’t liked being second-guessed. Fingers tightly gripping the stem of his wineglass, he waited for Jonathan to answer.

  Jonathan’s voice was now faint with uncertainty. “I could have…well, I could have broken up with her.”

  “Ah,” Alexander said and the sound was full of satisfaction, “but you didn’t, did you, baby brother?”

  “I didn’t know she was married until you told me.”

  “But you knew she wanted you to attempt to get rid of me, and you did nothing.”

  “I was trying to…I wouldn’t have let her…”

  “I heard you time and time again put her off -- oh, you didn’t know?” Alexander smiled now and chidingly, “Come now, Jonathan. You’ve been with me for almost a year. You should know me well enough by now to know that I make sure I know everything that goes on in my residence, wherever that may be. Surely you didn’t think you had any privacy? I protect what’s mine, Jonathan. But as interesting as I am, I don’t have all day, so let’s get back to you. Yes, you tried to dissuade the woman, but she never did stop bringing up my fall, and your presumptive rise to power.”

  Jonathan went beet red again and again, Alexander felt the triumph flow through him like a powerful elixir.

  “That would have never happened, Alex.’

  “Oh, that was never in doubt, and not only because of your loyalty, either; emaciated though it may be.” Jonathan looked away and Alexander smiled thinly. “Now that that’s settled, would you care to hear about our next trip?” he asked pleasantly.

  Jonathan nodded jerkily and in defeat.

  “Excellent,” Alexander said and placed his folded napkin neatly on the table. Now while this place has been a lovely sanctuary from those who would try to destroy me, it’s time I get back to the business of doing business. We’re headed to the coast of Mexico.”

  “What’s in Mexico?”

  “Not what, but whom, dear brother. I have a new friend there. His name is Miguel Guerrera. We’ll be staying at his family’s compound.”

  Jonathan frowned in concentration. “I know that name from somewhere.”

  Amused, Alexander chuckled. “Of course you do. Who doesn’t? Actually, people are more likely to be familiar with his brother’s name.”

  Jonathan suddenly snapped his fingers. “Francesco Guerrera! The Guerrera Cartel! He was arrested just a couple of months ago, right? That’s right. It was big news because he was caught by some sheriff.” He snorted out a laugh. “Big cartel chief, head of a billion dollar drug empire gets nabbed by a small-town Arizona sheriff who was out on routine patrol.” He shook his head before asking, “Why, Alex? Why are we getting involved with them?”

  “Why because the poor man is lost without his brother and is looking for a little help and experience north of his border, and because I’m being so generous, I’ll get a toehold south of the border and I won’t be limited to the eastern part of the United States anymore. Adding Guerrera to what I already have will substantially increase my bottom line, and allow me entry into California, Arizona, Texas and Nevada. Why should I let the Mexicans have such a profitable pie all to themselves? After all, it’s our fellow Americans’ unquenchable need to alter their realities that’s responsible for all the lucre.”

  Jonathan grunted. “Aren’t the FBI and several American municipal police departments still after you? And me too by association?”

  Alexander nodded. “Yes, as is GLEA and others. But I’ve come to a conclusion. As they will always be after me, I might as well enjoy myself and grow the business while they try to find me. I realized that I let that close call back in Indiana push me where I took caution too far. It’s time I get back to work. I’ve been wanting to expand, and Guerrera is just the person I need to help me to do it.”

  Jonathan slowly repeated, “GLEA…that’s the Global Law Enforcement Agency, right?’

  Alexander bit back a sigh of impatience and just looked at his brother. They’d had this same conversation at least a dozen times. Why Jonathan could never remember that GLEA was the acronym for the agency was beyond his comprehension and frustrating. He stared some more. “I dislike repeating myself, Jonathan.”

  Jonathan flushed some but continued, “And Ida? Will she be joining us?”

  Alexander thought about his paramour. Most times he believed she was more trouble than she was worth, but she had been quite the little helpful moll during his last caper on American soil. Even though the kidnapping hadn’t worked and he hadn’t even come close to getting the artist, Ida had still done her part. “I certainly can’t leave her behind,” he finally said in answer to his brother’s question.

  “And do you still want the artist? Caroline Singleton -- oh, wait. She’s gotten married, hasn’t she? Her name is Caroline Keenan now.”

  Alexander stared at his brother’s bowed head. Touché, little brother, he thought and then shook his head as Jonathan tried unsuccessfully to quell his grin. Alexander was sure his brother didn’t think the spiteful grin was visible because of the position of his head. Idiot. He uncurled the fists he hadn’t known he’d made until he became aware of the pain of his nails biting into his palms. Yes, the Singleton woman had gotten married, that was true, but he wouldn’t let that get in his way.

  He always got what he wanted precisely because he never let anything get in his way, and he’d never desired anything as much as he did Caroline Singleton. He was perfectly aware that the desire had grown into an obsession, but he didn’t care. The debacle last fall involving the botched kidnapping of her friends had not only been the second failure in his attempt to obtain her, but it had been only the second failure of his entire career.

  He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. He’d lost men on both his first and second attempts to get the woman. He’d lost money, property, valuables and he was sure some would even say some of his sanity. The woman had become his Holy Grail. She represented his failures, was the bane of his existence and he wanted her. He didn’t know how long he’d keep her, but that didn’t matter. He wanted her, and neither her marriage, nor her bodyguard would stand in his way. He would have her.

  ***

  ARLINGTON, Virginia

  “What the hell is going on with Paragon, Coop?”

  Cooper Stratford pinned his boss with an impatient look. “She hasn’t checked in yet, sir, so I don’t have an answer for you.”

  Ben Crawford sighed and eased himself into one of the chairs in front of Coop’s desk. “I know you think I’ve become a pest regarding her, but I had my doubts about her from the start.”

  Coop snorted. “It was your idea to recruit her in the first place.”

  The older man frowned and in a pathetic voice, said, “Yes, well, a momentary lapse on my part. A man of my advanced years is allowed them.”

  Coop shook his head. “God save me from old men on the verge of retirement. You think it’s a license to feel sorry for yourselves.”

  Ben grunted and went back to his original concern. “She was supposed to have checked in ten minutes ago.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” Coop said, not bothering to take his eyes off his laptop screen.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  Black eyes flashing with more impatience, Coop looked up at the man he’d known his entire life. He’d been his father’s best friend. “What more do you want me to say, Uncle Ben? You know as much as I do.”

  “And you’re not worried?”

  Coop lowered his eyelids so the other man wouldn’t see his anger and the fear he was beginning to feel. He would kill Paragon when he saw her next. He knew the little harridan well enough now to know that she was just spiteful enough to delay making her first check-in on h
er first assignment, thereby achieving her never-ending goal to piss him right the fuck off. “She’ll call in,” was all he said.

  “We’ll give her one more hour, shall we?”

  “And then what?” Coop asked sarcastically. “She’s out there alone, remember? It was your idea to do it that way.”

  “Yes, well, it will prove if she’s got what it takes, won’t it? If an agent can’t fly solo, then she shouldn’t be an agent should she?”

  Coop said nothing. They’d argued about this when Ben had first broached the subject of embedding Paragon. He’d wanted to send backup, but Ben wouldn’t hear of it.

  “I know as her handler you have concerns about letting your little birdling fly the nest for the first time, but having trained her yourself, you would know as well as anyone what she’s capable of.”

  Again, Coop remained silent, knowing from past experience that silence was usually the best policy when Ben was working out a problem of his own making.

  “Still, she is only twenty-years old, and the Guerreras are a monstrous family.”

  “I’m sure they even eat their young,” Coop muttered without looking up.

  “I will say, though,” Ben went on as if Coop hadn’t spoken, “that I haven’t seen an agent with talent like Paragon’s since we brought you in. By God, that girl shoots as if she came out of the womb with a gun in her hand and sniper skills coded in her DNA.”

  Coop reluctantly agreed with him. “True. I’ve never seen anyone with such ice-cold precision.”

  “Aside from you, of course,” Ben said slyly. “And I watched her in training a couple of times. She’s no slouch in hand-to-hand. She kicked some serious ass.”

  Coop shook his head at the other man’s choice of words. He was clearly unaccustomed to using slang, but yes, Paragon was also excellent at hand-to-hand combat. But I swear to God if I don’t hear from her in the next five minutes, I’m going to fly down to Mexico and do some serious ass-kicking myself. Hers will be the first.

  As if on cue, his phone rang loudly beside him. He picked up and before he could say anything, a cool, curt voice snapped, “No time to listen to whining, boss man, so just keep quiet and listen. I’m in and that’s all that matters. Not only that, but I’ve got some news that you, even with all your vaunted spy equipment, had no clue about.”

  “Stop being an obnoxious little snit and tell me what you know. We’ll discuss your punishment later,” Coop said and was unsurprised when her signature husky chuckle that had made more than one agent lose his footing during training, poured over the lines. Cocky little shrew.

  Chapter Three

  “What are these?”

  Caroline turned from the refrigerator to see what her friend Tracy Adamson was referring to. She held several sheets of paper in her hand. Caroline grimaced and walked over to the table with a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. “That is Alexander Brickman. Brian keeps making me study pictures of him and his people.” She shuddered and eased into a chair. “As if I’d ever forget what that monster looks like.”

  Tracy was still studying the pictures, a slight frown on her face. “But these are weird looking. They look like police --”

  “Yeah, police renderings. They used some type of computer program to show him several different ways: balding, with long hair, short hair, blond, brown, black, with a mustache, as overweight, etcetera.”

  Tracy nodded in understanding. “Because when he had Jack and me kidnapped, he’d put on weight deliberately.”

  “That’s what the FBI and everyone else thinks, yes. And of course, I’m sure Jack must have told you that,” she said, referring to Tracy’s fiancé, Brian’s best friend and former FBI agent and cop, Jacques Winthrop, who now headed his own security firm.

  Tracy shrugged. “Yes, but we try not to talk about it so much. He realizes how obsessed he was with finding Brickman. It had become unhealthy.”

  “Right. Brian told me how hard it was for Jack to get over the death of that young junkie he’d helped get clean when they were both rookies on the CPD.”

  “Uh huh. Brickman was the one responsible for getting her hooked on cocaine once more, and as Jack sees it, her death, soon after she’d started using again.” Tracy fingered her twisted hair as she normally did when deep in thought or worried. Caroline figured it was worry, but sensed it wasn’t around Brickman, at least not at the moment.

  “And how is Jack?” Caroline asked her friend of almost three decades carefully and avoided the other woman’s gaze when she snapped her head up to look at her.

  “What do you mean?” Tracy asked.

  Caroline rolled her eyes in amusement. “I mean how is Jack? It’s not a trick question. I haven’t seen the man in a few weeks after all.”

  “Oh, he’s fine,” Tracy said noncommittally.

  Caroline frowned as she watched Tracy now twist the diamond engagement ring round and round on her finger. Concerned now, she reached out and put a gentle hand on top of the long, thin fingers, causing Tracy to look up again. Caroline studied her friend. She was a slender woman of light brown complexion with deep set dark eyes, which were currently full of worry. “What are you afraid of, Trace?”

  “I’m not -- ” Tracy stopped the denial, paused as first uncertainty and then resignation flashed across her face. She blew out a breath. “Sometimes I hate that you know me so damned well.”

  Caroline quirked a brow. “Quit stalling. I’d offer you something stronger to drink, but that would just prolong the agony, so start spilling it, sister.”

  Tracy chuckled and shook her head and in a small voice, “What if it doesn’t work out, Caroline?”

  “You mean marriage to Jack, right?”

  Tracy snorted. “What else?”

  Sighing, Caroline sat back in her chair, subconsciously cradling her stomach with her right hand. “All I can tell you, Trace, is that there are no guarantees, but if you love and trust him, you need to decide if he’s worth taking the plunge over.”

  “Ahhhh! Oh, my God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?!”

  Startled by the near-screech, Caroline sat up quickly. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “He’ll be in here any second.” She was tempted to call out that everything was okay, but knew it would be useless. He’d have to see for himself.

  She never heard him approach, but knew he was there seconds before he appeared. “I’m fine, Jae,” she said hurriedly before he could rush into the kitchen. She watched as he narrowed his dark eyes, took in the kitchen -- her position, Tracy’s position, the windows, the French doors -- nodded in satisfaction. He then smiled slightly. “As you say.” He turned and left just as silently as he’d come, his tall frame almost unnaturally graceful in its movements.

  She looked over at Tracy. She’d stopped her forward motion when Jae had arrived and though was still smiling from ear to ear, looked confused as to what to do next. Jae tended to have that effect on people so Caroline smiled and teased, “I know: what to do, right? Get excited about my pregnancy or discuss Jae’s almost hypnotic, yet creepy, presence yet again.”

  But Caroline’s own smile threatened to stretch her face wide open and she felt tears sting her eyes as she let excitement get the best of her. “Yes, I am pregnant! Can you believe it?”

  Tracy was up and around the table in seconds. She bent and yanked Caroline into her arms. “Oh, sweetie; that is so awesome! I’m so happy for you two. How far along are you? When did you know? How’s Brian taking it? I’m the godmother, right? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Laughing, Caroline hugged her back and wiped her weeping eyes on Tracy’s shoulder. “One question at a time! We’re a little more than eight weeks along and we’ve known for a few weeks. Of course you’re the godmother, and of course Brian’s treating me like a piece of rare porcelain and is already in love. And we didn’t tell you or anyone because…well because we wanted to be absolutely sure because of the last time when we thought we might be, but weren’t. But how did you know?” she asked as Tracy sat back d
own.

  Tracy scoffed. “Please. You were sitting over there cupping your stomach and looking all I’ve-got-the-baby-Jesus-in-here-y’all, and smiling all beatifically -- what else could it be?”

  Caroline burst out laughing. “You are such a fool,” she said after she’d wound down to chuckles. “But seriously, you can’t tell anyone. We haven’t even told our parents.”

  “Ohh, but I have to tell Jack! He’s my road dog. I tell him everything.”

  Chuckling again and understanding fully, Caroline nodded. “All right, but Jack and no one else. We plan to tell my parents at their anniversary party. Speaking of which, you can make the final rehearsal, right?” Her brother Lee had planned a huge blowout for their parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. He’d rented out a ballroom at a downtown hotel, and had planned for three hours of food and entertainment. Caroline, Tracy and other friends and family would comprise amateur hour.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Tracy assured her now. “I’d do anything for Mama and Papa Singleton. Are you still nervous about performing?”

  Caroline winced. “A little bit. You know I don’t like being center stage, no matter what the cause. Of course I’m doing it because I know my parents will love it -- but to sixties Motown, no less! When I think about doing all those crazy dances from back then, I almost always what to bow out. What was Lee thinking?”

  Tracy waved a hand in classic unconcern. “We’ll be awesome, so stop worrying. And by the way, you know Brian is probably telling Jack your big secret right now.”

  Caroline nodded. “Oh, I’m positive he is. He’s probably even bought cigars to go with the telling of it, even though he threatened me with a termination of backrubs if I told anyone.”

  “I’m sure that he’s as excited as you are.”

  “Yeah,” Caroline said softly. “I don’t know which one of us is more excited or more scared.”

  Tracy frowned. “Scared…oh, you mean because of Brickman.”

  “That too, but the very idea of being responsible for another human being is awe-inspiring, you know? I didn’t think I’d ever feel as scared as I did when I thought about how I could protect Brian, but that was almost nothing compared --”