Broken Circle

by Amy McKinley

  Who had done that to her? She was almost positive it wasn’t Alex.

  The stress of the phone call still coursed through her and tried to weaken her resolve to stay away from him. A very small part of her thought that if she went home, she would spare someone else’s life. As she played through the exchange with Alex, the sketchbook slipped from her grasp. The sound of it hitting the wood floor, of the pages crinkling, never came.

  Liam held it. Mere inches from her, he placed it on the table and sat down next to her. His presence was a simple offering of support, letting her know she wasn’t alone.

  That confrontation with Alex over the phone was the last one she intended on having. Liam’s steady heartbeat under her ear soothed her racing thoughts.

  “I hate that you went through so much. I realize we haven’t known each other long, but I want you to realize I’d have done anything to prevent what you’ve been through.”

  Liv wished she could forget for a while in Liam’s arms. It was wrong, though. Even with the evil she’d experienced at the hands of Alex’s family, he remained her husband, and she would not break her marriage vow. The question was, how long until her marriage was legally severed.

  Liam squeezed her shoulder. “I promise I’ll keep you safe, Liv.”

  “Thank you.” This time, she would keep herself safe.

  “What can I do for you? What do you need?”

  What did she need? This nightmare to end. She wished she hadn’t met Alex’s family. No, nothing Liam could do would restore her old life, but maybe he and his friends could help her attain a new one.

  Despite her thoughts of starting anew, one question still burned inside her. Who pushed me down the flight of stairs?

  Chapter 30

  Alex

  Alex lifted his hastily packed bag onto the conveyer belt and passed through the security checkpoint. He’d shaken the paparazzi and hoped they wouldn’t pick up his trail there. With a flash of his badge, security would ignore anything that looked a little suspicious. He’d left his standard-issue gun for them to see in the middle of his shirts.

  A minor repair to their private plane meant he would have to wait to leave. When he’d called earlier, they had said it would be completed late in the day. That wasn’t an option. So commercial it would have to be.

  Clothing rustled from fellow passengers as they too went through the scanners. Heels clicked, and conversation buzzed as people rushed to their gates in the busy airport. No beep sounded as he stepped around the metal detector and x-ray point. And there would not be any alerts, thanks to his badge paving the way for him to carry a weapon on the plane.

  With a nod to the guard, he slid the bin that held his passport and ticket closer. Bending, he retrieved his carry-on suitcase, which had passed through the cameras without fail, probably without more than a cursory glance. Stupid. If he’d wanted to, he could have fixed all their homeland inadequacies. But that wasn’t his focus. He had bigger plans, orders, which were almost within his grasp. If only Liv would come home.

  A young boy ran from his mother, giggling as she chased him through the busy terminal. Her long, dark hair and bright smile reminded him of his own mother before everything had changed, before he’d learned his lot in life and the orchestrated path laid out before him.

  Excitement shone in the young mother’s eyes as she bent to her child and told him it was time to greet his father at the gate. When Alex was five years old, the concept of meeting his father had elated him. He had no recollection of laying eyes on the elusive man before then.

  There were times during those early years when his mother had tried to take him to see Juan Carlos. For some reason, his grandmother had been set against the idea. She’d stopped his mother’s attempt every single time, finding a loophole in his mother’s plans to thwart her. He hadn’t understood why. Now he did.

  What she could not stop was the accidental meeting that had occurred when his father happened to be in town. Alex’s small hand securely in his mother’s, he walked out of a clothing store, packages in tow. His mother’s fingers spasmed on his, and he jerked to a halt. A man and his son strolled toward them, the man’s gaze locked onto his mother. There was something familiar about the man, and Alex’s curiosity got the better of him.

  “Who’s that, Mama?”

  She drew him closer to her body for a brief squeeze. “Your father, Alexander.”

  The man before him quirked his eyebrows, a small smile playing around his mouth. “Rita.”

  Pulled forward by his mom as she went to the man and kissed him, Alex tugged until she let go. He stood before a boy about his age, maybe a year older. Hatred shone in the boy’s eyes, and Alex’s spine stiffened.

  His parents separated, their attention now on him and the other boy. With a quick turn of his head, Alex caught the shock on his mom’s face before she hid it. Did she not know about the other boy?

  “Hello, Alejandro,” the man greeted. “This is your brother, Mateo.”

  Alex clutched his mother’s leg, studying the boy opposite him. A brother? Squaring his shoulders, but not moving away from his mom, he mumbled a quiet hello. Identical brown eyes stared at him, and a slow sneer spread across the boy’s face. After that, the boy ignored him. That had only been the beginning.

  The jostling behind Alex brought his thoughts back to the present, and he moved along the narrow aisle on the plane to take his seat in first class. After stowing his case above, he belted in, and waited for the seats to fill before they taxied down the runway. With time to kill, he mused over the things his family had put him through over the years.

  His grandmother had been the only one who’d wanted the best for him. Even his mother thought of him as a pawn, her ticket to a better life. In time, he’d learned what his father really was. All through his early years, his mother had sung Juan Carlos’s praises. She gushed that Alex was the reason his father’s interest remained and why he blessed them with so much, including buying them a beautiful home to live in. She didn’t have to instruct or dance any longer at the Latin club, except for pleasure, and she had everything she ever wanted. Almost.

  When his mother went on and on about his father, his grandmother usually left the room. She was getting up there in years, her body frail and not moving as fast as it used to. But she took care of him whenever his mother spent a long weekend away—with him, his father. Agitated questions swam like piranhas in his thoughts, but he held them back. His grandmother cautioned him, but in time, he would learn the answers.

  Why didn’t they live with his father? Why didn’t he go to his father’s house, ever? Why did the other boy, his brother, live there?

  When he did find out, he wished he had not. The other boy was the legitimate son of Juan Carlos and lived in the same house. Everything his father had—his business, his home, expensive cars, money, gold-plated and diamond weapons, the control of the town, and so much more—would be left to his successor, not him. The unfairness burned inside him.

  Unless… A chance remained to take it all, one that his mother drilled into him with every opportunity she got. The main idea came from his father, but his mother altered it in subtle ways to benefit him…them. And he had followed her carefully laid plans in exact detail, except one.

  The baby.

  The baby’s conception had happened sooner than his mother, his father, and apparently, his brother, had agreed upon. To his father, a baby meant opportunity. His brother no doubt viewed anything related to Alex as a distraction from their father’s attention. A risk. Even his wife seemed to pose a threat to Mateo. Sharing wasn’t something his brother welcomed.

  A memory jabbed his brain like a viper’s deadly bite of a time when he’d visited his father at age sixteen. Alex had stood behind his father’s house, his back to the bushes, while he faced Mateo.

  “Why do you bother to come here?” Mateo sneered, his latest birthday present—a gold-plated handgun—dangling from his right hand. “You’re nothing. No one would ev
en miss you.”

  “Fuck off.” The parted curtains closed again. Mateo’s mother. She hated him too. “My father wanted me here; that’s why I came.”

  Mateo lifted his gun and fired. The bullet had whizzed by Alex, narrowly missing his ear.

  Alex ground the heels of his palms against his closed eyes, dispelling the memory. Mateo resented Alex’s existence because it got in the way of his inheritance of an empire.

  A part of Alex wished his grandmother still lived. Before she had passed, she gave him the brooch and told him of the secret compartment housed within the family heirloom. She’d said there may be a time he would need to use it and to pass it along to his future wife. It was something she hadn’t trusted to her daughter. But she had told him there was goodness in him, not the greed that festered inside her daughter.

  That’s where she was wrong.

  He thirsted.

  He wanted.

  And he took.

  All the carefully laid plans to go to America, finish college, work his way up in his career, marry the right girl with the right connections, then reach his ultimate career goal just like his wife’s father. A senator.

  He shut his eyes to the flight attendant demonstrating preflight instructions and leaned back as the plane taxied to the runway, almost ready to take off. As they bumped along, he continued to ponder his future and the mistakes of his recent past.

  His importance would exceed his brother’s with the dual connections, the influence, and the ability to do what was needed. If only his brother’s snitches hadn’t gotten wind of Liv, of the baby, of their marriage. They had been watching.

  They may have learned a few things, but thanks to Alex’s grandmother, they didn’t know about the bracelet Liv wore.

  The last private conversation he’d had with Mateo had not gone well. Over ten years later, his brother’s stinging words still rang in his ears. “You’ll never have his love, respect, or business. You are nothing but a bastard-born pawn. It’s my legacy.”

  Now he had to get to Liv before his brother did.

  Chapter 31

  Liv cupped her jewelry in her hand as she entered Liam’s office. The ting of metal and gems against his wood desk rang with finality. Why she’d kept the necklace on after leaving Colombia was still a mystery to her. Well, it was probably because she hadn’t been ready to let Alex go completely. She was now. With a tug, she broke the delicate chain. The bracelet that held Alex’s grandmother’s brooch was the only piece of jewelry that remained on her body. That she needed help getting off later. It was enough to unburden herself by parting with the rest of her jewelry.

  Liam disconnected his call, set down his cell, and looked at her, waiting.

  The knot in her throat made it impossible to speak. After clearing her throat, she confided to him what had taken her days to admit to herself. “I can’t keep pretending to myself that Alex is undercover.” She wrung her hands. “I mean, I get now he’s not. I have for a while, but I wasn’t ready to fully move on until now. The things that happened with his family were too real.”

  Liam didn’t say anything, merely waited for her to continue. He was right. There was more she needed to get out, so much more. If only Alex was here for her to say it to. However, Liam would do.

  “I know I told you Alex kept his business separate. I liked our happy little bubble, so I didn’t push to change anything. Expect when my parents intervened. But I don’t think they really wanted me to be a part of the intricate workings, the gory details, and the emotional downfalls Alex waded through in his job on a daily basis. The life of a detective is not always an easy one. What they wanted me to involve myself in was his rise to the Senate. To a degree, I did. He was close. So very close.” She swept her hand as if waving the words away. “That’s not important here. What matters is how he never treated me differently while we were dating or the first year of our marriage. Not until I told him I was pregnant with our child.”

  Liam stood, went around his desk, eliminating the space between them, and leaned against it in front of her.

  “Everything changed in that moment.” The memory of Alex’s anger and the sound of the bottle smashing against their backsplash erupted in her mind. “He was in a panic, mumbling something about it not being time. When he got himself under control, he talked to me about a vacation and also finally meeting his mom. So we went. That was the first time I learned about his father. That he was known, alive.”

  Liam’s gaze turned wary. “Juan Carlos isn’t listed on his birth certificate.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “There would have been a reason for that. If he had a plan, and I firmly believe he did, that gave him the anonymity to accomplish what his family desired. I looked over Alex’s career in great detail. It was impressive. Liv, he dismantled his father’s competition in the States. It looks as if he was making way for the Ramirez cartel. My best guess, due to the groundwork he’d laid, when their infiltration was slotted to happen would be by the time Alex rose to the Senate and no longer pursued drug trafficking and detective work.”

  She gritted her teeth with the full knowledge of being used. Lies, so many of them, by people who’d supposedly loved her. All her life. Her parents and Alex had lied to her. Would her future also be false?

  “I’m sorry to tell you that, Liv. I understand—”

  “No, you don’t. Not really. I knew the issues with my parents, what my worth to them was, but Alex? He was supposed to be mine. Instead, he used me for what he could gain a hundred times worse than anything my parents ever did.” She squared her shoulders and put on a brave face. That was the thing with pretending—soon, it would not be a farce anymore. And she was close to being okay. Once she and Alex finalized the divorce and she took further steps to move on with her life the way she wanted to live it, she would be. That, she felt ready to do.

  Liam reached behind him and scooped up the butterfly necklace and her wedding rings. “What would you like me to do with these?”

  “Get rid of them.” She extended her arm with the difficult-to-remove bracelet. “And I need help with this one.” The words were said in raw sincerity, even though she couldn’t look at him. Did she want it off right now?

  When she did, the frown that pulled Liam’s mouth down echoed the one in her heart. “I’ll put them in the safe for you. There will be a time when you’re ready to fully let go of them. I don’t think this is it.” He lifted a hand to stop her words. “I know you’re hurt, done with the lies, and want to move on. Don’t rush yourself. We’ll deal with one thing at a time, Liv. The first is to make sure you’re safe and that Alex lets go.”

  She dropped her arm and offered him a small smile, not ready to admit he was right. Accepting his hand, she laced her fingers with his and followed him out of the office. His hand enveloped hers. She liked it. Same with the rough callouses and sureness of his grip. The land and his home were beautiful, and the change was welcome—change she would make permanent. If not there, then somewhere else like it. There was no way she would return to her life in New York. She had plenty of money with the trust from her parents and their full fortune that she’d received after their death. Even though she did not need to work, she would. Sculpting was a part of her.

  Maybe Maine would be a nice change of scenery. She could buy a house somewhere and enjoy a quieter existence. The galleries that displayed her artwork would continue to do so. All she needed to do was ship her pieces to them. The life she was expected to live in New York and the people she had to associate with were never her thing. Rachel was more her type, and Liv missed her sorely.

  “Let’s go find Jo and go over the drills. I don’t think we have long until we have company.”

  Chapter 32

  Alex

  The door slammed behind Alex. The chair closest to him received a solid kick. Fuck the others on the hotel floor. He couldn’t care less if he disturbed them. The quaint Victorian inn overlooking Maine’s coast wasn’t booked for t
he breathtaking view, charm, or ratings. It was a necessity, a stop along the way to getting his wife back whole and alive.

  The beauty of the area was not completely lost on him. He scrubbed his hand over his scruffy face. Liv would love Maine. The inn boasted a grand deck that wrapped around most of the old home. He envisioned how the lights would blaze from the many windows in the dark, the single dormered one at the top acting like a beacon. The place was beautiful, and she would have instantly fallen in love. His heart sank as he remembered he’d planned to surprise her with a trip here for their anniversary, before she’d told him about the baby and turned his world upside down, and not in a good way.

  Alex tossed the heavy case on the bed with a thud. It bounced once before lying still. He reached into the pocket of his black Armani pants and pulled out both phones. One he turned off and removed the battery. There was no way he would risk the microphone or the camera being used against him. With his work phone securely disabled, he thumbed through the coded contacts on his other phone.

  Bristling with tension and the need to act, he forced himself to find out where the pieces had fallen while he’d chased his missing wife to their home in New York, only to find she’d never returned. He’d lost valuable time, sort of. The news painted a picture of a grieving and desperate husband. True. And it focused on the lie centered on his time and treatment in the hands of the Ramirez organization. He’d claimed he escaped. Not even close.

  His real escape, planned to unfold in the future, was now compromised.

  He pushed the number he wanted and lifted the phone to his ear. His father’s direct line rang, and his impatience bristled as he itched to be on his way to get Liv. Come on, answer. Grinding his teeth, he rubbed the back of his neck raw with his free hand. When Juan Carlos answered, a mixture of relief, fear, and anger surged in a dangerous cocktail.