Vow of Atonement

by Emma Renshaw

  My eyes turn to Harper, watching her intently, knowing my connection to Rafael amps up my jealousy.

  “He’s messing with you,” Harper says. “Nothing happened between us.”

  Kiernan hands Harper her phone. “I’ll brief Dawson and have him come with me. Roman, keep the drive on you. I made an encrypted copy. It’s in the cloud right now but I’ll store it on a drive as soon as I get back to the motel.”

  I nod, already planning to do what he said.

  Kiernan stops in front of Harper on his way out the door. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She hugs him briefly. “Be safe.”

  “Fuck. Harper, Sugar, wake up. Come on, baby. Wake up.”

  Harper’s eyes slowly open, looking up at me. It’s the first time we’ve made eye contact since Kiernan left earlier this afternoon. We spent the day in silence, processing in our own ways. I wanted to go to her so many times, but I didn’t. Undeserving. That’s what I am. I’m no good for her. That feeling is just reinforced now as she stares at me, confused. She went to bed early, but I’ve been waiting to hear from Kiernan since the meet.

  “Kiernan was shot,” I say, still unable to believe the words I’m saying. I’m undeserving in so many ways. Guilt is eating me up and swallowing me whole. It should have been me. “James is on his way. He’ll be here any minute. I’m going to the hospital.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Harper demands, getting out of bed and reaching for her pants.

  “Absolutely not,” I hiss. “You’re staying here, locked in this house where you’re safe. Please don’t argue with me. James is on his way. I need to get to Kiernan.”

  Tears well in her eyes. “Is––is he alive?”

  “Yeah, Sugar, he’s alive.” I kiss her hard on the mouth. “I love you, Harper. I always will.”

  “Go,” she says. As I’m walking out the door, she speaks again. “I love you, too. I feel like you’re saying goodbye without actually saying it.”

  I keep walking without turning around; even now every word is like a bullet straight to my chest.

  She reads me so well. Part of me thinks I’m saying goodbye to her, that I should say goodbye to her. Caleb’s death is my fault. Kiernan being shot is my fault. If he dies—I can’t let myself go there. Even when I try to make the right choice, I choose wrong. I can’t bring death and destruction into Harper’s life or our baby’s. They’d be better off without me.

  Hauling the van as fast as it will go down the streets of Austin, I slam it into park as soon as I get to the hospital. It’s a handicapped space, but I don’t care if I’m towed. I have to get to Kiernan and Dawson. I search the hallways for Dawson, hoping he can brief me before I go into Kiernan’s room. When I don’t see him in the waiting area, I ask the nurses’ station where Kiernan’s room is, sprinting down the hall until I reach his door, throwing it open.

  Kiernan looks small in the hospital bed and paler than normal, which is a feat because he matches my six–one frame and he’s already pale.

  “Kiernan,” I rasp, heading to the side of his bed and looking down at him with cords attached everywhere and a breathing mask over his face.

  His eyes open slowly. When they meet mine, they’re drowsy and glassy from the pain medication. Both bullets didn’t hit anything vital and went straight through, so thankfully he didn’t need surgery. He lost a lot of blood and is probably in severe pain. Kiernan’s hand reaches for his oxygen mask, pulling it off. I try to stop him, but he turns his head away.

  “Dawson,” he croaks.

  “I haven’t seen him,” I say, looking over my shoulder, expecting him to appear in the doorway. Kiernan’s next words stop me cold.

  “Dawson is the rat. Going after Harper.”

  My head whips in Kiernan’s direction. His head slightly lolls to the side as he struggles to breathe.

  “He’s going after her. Go. Dawson shot me. Killed Caleb. Rafael never even arrived. Go. Go.”

  I don’t waste another second. Kiernan is safe here in the hospital. I run as fast as my legs will carry me through the halls, dodging and pushing people out of my way. My phone is to my ear, calling Harper and James as I peel out of the parking lot. Both of their phones go straight to voicemail.

  48

  Harper

  The tears won’t stop. I can’t believe Kiernan was shot. James is coming over to stand guard. I doubt I’d be able to sleep now, anyway.

  I turn the volume up on my phone so I can hear if Roman calls. That hard kiss before he left felt like a goodbye, like he was torturing himself. I don’t know what will happen, but Roman has my heart. My chest feels empty without him near, especially since I’m questioning if he will return. And, if he does return, will it just be to break my heart?

  He grew up without knowing he had a father—he wouldn’t do that to our child. I have to believe. What will it be like for me if he decides our relationship is too much to handle? Will I only see him when he picks up our baby for a visit? A lifetime of short conversations with him wouldn’t be enough. There’s no way in hell I could handle seeing him with another woman. After these last few months, I’ll never be able to be with anyone else. If he does leave me, I won’t let him go so easily this time. We matter. We belong together, we’ve belonged together since we met. Distance and time didn’t stand a chance tearing us apart. I’ll fight for us if he can’t.

  I’m splashing cool water on my face when I hear the front door open. “Set the alarm, James,” I call out. I didn’t set it after Roman left—he said James would be here any minute. I know James is going to burst into the room and give me shit about not setting it, but it takes too long to set and turn it off when I would only be unarmed for a few minutes. It’s the middle of the night, no one will know I’m alone. The guys have been monitoring the exterior cameras, combing the footage for anything out of the ordinary, no one is watching or following us.

  James is moving around in the living room, probably pacing with anger over the alarm, but not wanting to burst into the bedroom out of respect. I sigh, walking out, gearing myself up for a fight with the silent giant. “I know I didn’t set it but Roman said—” I stop speaking when I see the man moving in the shadows of the living room.

  No lights are on, but I see his outline from the moonlight casting through the windows. It’s not James. He’s not big enough. Not nearly big enough. Roman and Kiernan are in the hospital. Roman wouldn’t send Dawson without letting me know. He hasn’t cleared him, and I haven’t met him. Roman wouldn’t do that to me. Who the fuck is this?

  I open my mouth to scream, but the scream dies in my throat when I recognize the voice.

  “Harper.” One word, one quietly spoken word sends chills through me. My hand starts brushing over the wall searching for the light switch.

  I turn on the lights in the living room, staring at the man standing across from me and trying to make sense of what’s happening. Daniel is standing in the middle of the room watching me with an intense, penetrating stare. I take a step back as fear settles in my stomach, trying to form a smile on my face, but I can’t hide the quiver.

  “What are you doing here, Daniel?” I ask, taking another step back, picturing my phone on the dresser. I should have grabbed it. Dammit, why didn’t I grab it?

  “Don’t move, Harper.” His words are softly spoken but his tone is threatening.

  “Daniel, this is weird. We haven’t seen each other in ten years and you show up out of the blue at my store and now you’re here. How the fuck did you even know where I’m staying?”

  Daniel shrugs, watching me. I take another step back, trying to make it to the hallway to run to the bedroom. “I said don’t move. Dammit.” The soft tone is completely gone, and in its place is deranged lunacy. Daniel takes a gun out of his pants and points it at my head, stalking toward me, eating up the distance between us quickly. My focus is on the barrel of the gun, aimed directly between my eyes. Everything slows, all my senses on the end of the gun coming toward me.

/>   “I really don’t want to kill you, but I will. I actually kind of like you. You could be funny when you weren’t whining about Roman or your family. Boo hoo. Your family died.”

  I suck in a rattling breath. “Who are you? Daniel, what are you doing? This isn’t like you,” I say. His eyes are bloodshot, and the pupils are tiny pinpricks in his brown eyes. His hair stands on end like he’s been continually running his hands through it in agitation.

  Daniel takes another step forward, running his tongue along his teeth and wiping his nose with his arm. The smile that breaks across his face is wicked and evil. “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?” My voice is trembling, the barrel now pressed against my forehead. The cool metal sends tears to my eyes. He’s blurry in the background of where my eyes are focused. A shaking finger hovers over the trigger. My father collected guns; I didn’t share his love of firearms, but he did teach me about firearm safety. Your finger shouldn’t be on the trigger unless you’re ready to pull it. The tears are rushing down my cheeks, blurring my vision of the man with the gun in front of me.

  “The information on Rafael your father so stupidly collected. It wasn’t his to collect,” Daniel yells in my face, the gun scraping along my forehead. “He was nothing. Nothing. He had to destroy everything. The only thing Santiago needed from him was the books. Santiago insisted any other business should be kept away from your dad. Nothing could taint the precious family Santiago loved. He was a piece of shit. He already had a family. He had a son. An heir to his throne.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask cautiously, my voice breaking over every other word. My eyes dart away from the gun for the first time. With my back pinned to the wall, there’s nothing close enough that I can grab before he pulls the trigger. The tears start flowing faster as my panic continues to rise.

  Daniel wipes the back of his arm across his nose. The eyes, the twitching and jerky hands, he has to be on something. His rambling takes another turn that sends pain ricocheting through my heart.

  “You know, I saved your father for last. The screams your parents made when I shot your sister…” Daniel throws his head back, laughing. My knees threaten to buckle underneath me, a sob escaping my throat. “I came at them as soon as they were going to exit the car. Mugging. Please. Santiago knew it was a hit, he knew you’d be too pathetic to question him. Muggings in downtown Dallas near the theater happen all too often.”

  My entire body trembles while I cry, opening my mouth to plead with him to stop. I can’t hear anymore. I don’t want to hear anymore. My family. My poor family.

  Daniel’s nails scrape against his skin as he scratches along his neck with his eyes twitching. “Then came your bitch of a mother. Your father pleaded and pleaded with me. I had him tied so tight to his seat, he couldn’t move. Only watch. The look in his eyes made Rafael’s anger at me worth it. Rafael didn’t want them dead. I knew it was the best way, though.”

  He shakes his head. “I always know what’s best for him. He just can’t see it.” His other hand comes up to his head, hitting it. A tiny bit of spit comes flying out of his mouth as he curses in Spanish. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak Spanish, I didn’t know he did.

  “Stupid, stupid. Doesn’t he know I would do anything for him? Rafael was a fucking king in Mexico and he didn’t care. Only wanted Daddy’s attention. Everything he did was for him. It was all misunderstood, he wasn’t trying to ruin him. He was helping him, or at least he was trying. I wanted to ruin Santiago. How could he not see Rafael for what he was? But of course, your father thought it was Rafael.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I cry, my breaths coming out in a panicked rush. How well does he know Rafael? Did Santiago know Daniel, is that why he hated him so much? He tried to block me from seeing him after he met him at the funeral, but he felt like my only friend at the time. My friends in high school started to give me a wide berth after losing my family, but then I met Daniel in front of the community college. He was so kind. How can this person in front of me be the same boy hoping to major in architecture? I hate myself for being fooled by so many men in my life, not being able to see under everything they showed the world.

  “I’ve been there for Rafael since elementary school. My father’s in the cartel, too, but he’s fucking worthless, never moving up, never proving himself more than he had to. My mother is an American bitch, lucky I got her looks. Don’t even fucking look Mexican. Our school was an American school, I never picked up the accent. So fucking easy to fool you.” Daniel throws his head back cackling, making the gun press harder into my head. I wince, grinding my teeth from the pain of the harsh metal pressing into me.

  “Daniel, no,” I plead quietly, choking on the sobs. “Don’t do this. I don’t know what Rafael wants. I don’t—”

  “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Daniel roars. “I can’t listen to you whine anymore. I’m talking, fucking listen. Stupid cunt.”

  I bite my cheek to keep from crying and begging for my life, and his hand is starting to tremble violently. His finger has slipped from the trigger, but he could put it back there any second. Unless he’s too fucked up to notice.

  “Seeing Santiago’s face at your family’s funeral was worth it, too. Rafael beat the shit out of me, but I couldn’t stop smiling. He was so shocked to see you walking up the church steps with me, your only friend. Poor, pathetic Harper. I thought he would have a heart attack right there, that would have made it even funnier. I could barely contain myself, holding in my laugh standing next to you, consoling you when it was me who put them in the fucking ground. It was me holding your hand with the same hand that shot them. Your mother left this world with me inside of her and your father left with the memory of his dead family. If only you hadn’t fucked everything up.”

  Daniel hits himself in the head again, clutching his teeth, cursing my name. “You fuck everything up, don’t you, Harper? You should have been in one of those caskets with your worthless family. Santiago didn’t know it was me, but he knew I was close to Rafael. He didn’t want me anywhere near you. He paid me off to get away from you. Easiest fucking money I ever earned.”

  He laughs, wiping his nose again. “I did the things Rafael couldn’t do. I killed your family. You were supposed to be with them. You told me you would be with them. No bother though, I was going to do it after. A phone call from Rafael saved your life. I killed Santiago for Rafael. Santiago never would have given him a chance. Santiago hated Rafael his whole life. Rafael is who he is because of me.”

  Daniel claps his hand against his chest, making sure I understand he’s the mastermind behind all this death and destruction.

  There’s a flash of movement and Daniel falls to a heap at my feet. James is standing there breathing hard with his gun trained on Daniel knocked out on the floor. He raises his eyes to me, scanning me from head to toe for injuries.

  “Knew I didn’t trust that guy.” He holds out his hand for me to take, helping me step over Daniel. “Call the cops.” James doesn’t move from his position, watching Daniel on the floor with his gun trained on him.

  I use the alarm’s panic mode to call 9-1-1 and rush to tell the operator the situation. She assures me that there’s an officer close by and he will be there momentarily. I hang up with the operator when the knock and call of “Police!” comes through the door. I run to the entrance, swinging open the door.

  My relief turns to dread when I see the cop from my apartment standing in front of me. He pushes me hard to the side. I manage to call out James’ name as I fall to the ground. Shots are fired at the same time James looks up. Off in the distance, I hear my phone ringing.

  49

  Roman

  I curse, slamming my hand on the wheel and pushing the gas harder when both Harper’s and James’ phones go to voicemail. Again.

  Who the hell is Dawson? He’s been on my team for five fucking years. Never would I have suspected he was a fucking rat. Just how long has Rafael been a
t this fucking game of his?

  The light ahead of me is turning red, so I lay on my horn, flashing the brights over and over, hauling ass and ignoring squealing tires and honks of pissed off drivers behind me. I will not stop until I get to Harper. Fuck. James can protect her. Why the fuck aren’t they answering their phones?

  My mind is racing with every job that I can remember Dawson working. Nothing ever was amiss until the night he murdered Caleb. The chaos surrounding that night was just a cover up.

  I roar when I realize even Caleb’s death must be connected to Harper. Caleb had been trying to tell me something about Harper but didn’t want to listen. He’d handed me a file, insistent that I look at it. I should have known his persistence was different than the other times when he was trying to bait me. He must have found something on Dawson or Rafael that was connected to Harper in some way.

  Fuck.

  Mistake after fucking mistake. My entire life is made up of mistakes. My existence was a mistake, and I’ve been making them since I was born. I’ll never be done atoning for the sins that keep racking up around me, putting everyone in my life in danger.

  The pedal is on the floor of the van, but I keep pushing it harder. Keeping my left hand on the wheel, I reach under the seat, pulling out the gun. I didn’t leave the house armed, I only rushed to the hospital. This gun is all I have. I don’t know what I’ll be walking into, but it’s going to have to work. Not saving Harper isn’t an option.

  I call her cell one more time, yelling when it goes to voicemail. I hang up calling 9-1-1.

  “This is 9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

  “Someone is breaking into my house. My girlfriend’s there, she’s not answering. Please get there.”

  “What’s the address?”

  I rattle off the address. “A unit was just dispatched to this location.”