“So, Brad found one of your accounts and syphoned your illegal money?” she asked. Mai nodded. “And just how do you make your money, Mai?”
“Gambling, of course. The betting windows, that sort of thing.”
“You control them?”
Again, Mai nodded. “It’s a more sophisticated operation than what the Irish control. Although, over the years we’ve reached a bit of an accord with them. They stick to their enterprises, we stick to ours,” she added.
“How very civil of you,” Matty all but bit out. But then she paused and took a deep breath. She had hoped to will her heart rate down, but all the breath did was make her cough. She turned her head and out of the corner of her eye, through the window, caught movement. She wasn’t sure what it was but just in case it was someone riding to her rescue, she didn’t want to give them away, so she turned back to Mai.
“I don’t know anything,” she said.
“Wrong answer, Matty,” Mai said raising her gun.
What did she have to lose now? She shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything. I don’t know what Brad knew, I don’t know what he did with the information he had, and I really don’t know what he did with your money.”
“I do,” came Dash’s voice from the doorway. Mai spun, gun raised, to find Dash striding toward her with a rifle in his hand. If possible, Matty became even more still, not liking that Mai’s weapon was now pointed directly at Dash.
A few feet in the door, Dash stopped, not dropping his focus on Mai for a second. In fact, Matty was surprised to see just how focused Dash was. Not that she doubted him, it was just that he had always been so laid back with her. He didn’t tend to get ruffled about much of anything; he went with the flow, unless the flow was against his grain and then he didn’t make a big deal of it, but just quietly stood his ground.
But this Dash, the one in front of her now, was radiating tension from every muscle in his body. He held his rifle as naturally as if it were a part of his body and he wore an expression that said he would fire without a second thought if provoked.
“Matty, I’d like you to leave the barn now,” Dash said. Mai said nothing, also keeping her weapon drawn.
“Matty?” Dash said again. Mai swung her weapon around to point it back at Matty. If possible, the tension in Dash’s body coiled even tighter and his jaw clenched.
Matty shook her head, not that he could see her with his eyes locked on Mai. “No, Dash, I’m not leaving you,” she said as she looked to Dash’s waist to see if his phone was in its usual place. Having left hers in his truck with her purse, getting closer to him and using his phone to call for help might be their only chance. She frowned; his phone wasn’t there.
She saw the side of his mouth tip into a small grin. “I’m not asking you to leave me, but I am asking you to step outside for a moment while Mai and I sort this out.”
She looked at the two people in front of her. They both had their eyes locked on each other, though Mai’s weapon was still pointed at her. “No,” Matty said. “If I leave, she’ll only have one target, you. At least this way if she tries to kill me, you can get a shot off.”
Mai shifted her position, taking a step away from Matty, making her wonder what the woman was thinking. She couldn’t possibly believe that she was going to get away with anything at this point. But then, casting a glance in her direction, she saw the flat look in Mai’s eyes, a look that made her suck in a quick breath. Mai knew this wasn’t going to end the way she had intended but had no intention of bowing out gracefully.
“No one is going to die today, Matty,” Dash said as if reading her mind.
His confident tone irritated her. It shouldn’t have, but it did. He was being cavalier about his life. She wasn’t feeling quite the same way.
“Then it shouldn’t matter if I stay,” she shot back. She saw Dash take a breath and will himself under control.
“No one is going to die, Matty,” Dash repeated, “but you’ve seen enough violence in your life that whatever happens in here, you don’t need to witness it.” Mai made a small, derisive sound.
But Dash’s comment had caught Matty by surprise. It wasn’t at all what she had been expecting him to say, though she didn’t know why. In his own way, every day, he’d shown her how much he cared for her, cared about her. And he was still doing it. Even as he pointed a rifle at the head of a woman who’d been involved in the death of her half brother. Dash wasn’t being cavalier about himself; he was trying to protect her—not necessarily from a bullet, though there was that too, but from the pain of her past.
“We can get married, Dash,” she blurted out. That startled him and, for a moment, his eyes shot to hers before refocusing on Mai. Matty cast another glance at the woman holding the gun, too. Mai had been unusually silent during their exchange and Matty could only guess it was because she was using the time to come up with a new plan and she didn’t like the thought of that.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Dash said. “My mom’s already planning on it so if you want any say in the wedding, you may want to mention it to her, too. In fact, why don’t you go do that now?”
While he was talking, Dash had inched closer to her and was now standing between her and Mai, who had taken another step toward to the door. Matty realized that if Mai was able to leave the barn, all she would have to do was wait for them to follow, then she could easily pick them off one at a time as they exited, something they’d have to do at some point, especially if they couldn’t call for help.
“Dash,” Matty said in warning.
“I got this, Matty. Believe me, I do,” he said, his voice pleading with her to leave. A small part of her wanted to give him what he wanted just to make that tone disappear. She didn’t like denying Dash what he wanted. But another part of her knew she wasn’t going to leave him.
“I know you do, Dash. I know you do,” she repeated. “But you’re not doing this alone. We’re doing it together. I’m not leaving you now, I’m not leaving you ever. I think you need to get used to that.”
“Such a sweet sentiment,” Mai drawled as she took another step backward toward the door.
Matty saw Dash’s jaw clench and she braced herself for what he might say next.
But when she heard a man’s voice, it was Ian’s, not Dash’s.
“Lucky for you two, I think you’ll have a long time to get used to the together thing,” Ian said as he, Marcus, and Carly entered the barn, weapons drawn. Ian stopped a few feet inside with Marcus and Carly fanning out on either side of him.
Matty watched Mai spin at their entrance. Her eyes danced between the four weapons directed at her. For a moment it looked like she might take a shot just to bring someone down with her. But then, miraculously, she lifted her finger from the trigger, opened her palm, and lifted her hands. In an instant, Carly had Mai disarmed and handcuffed.
“Dash,” Ian said. “If you wouldn’t mind lowering that hunting rifle, we’d all appreciate it.”
Ian’s voice cut through the fog in Matty’s brain and as Dash set the safety and lowered his weapon he turned just in time to grab her as she stepped into his arms. The rifle slid to the floor and he held her so tightly she started to cough. They stood there a long time, not saying anything, until Ian cleared his throat.
Dash pulled back from her, but just enough to see her face. He wound his hands into her hair and tilted her head up to look at him. Their gazes met and held, and in his eyes, she saw everything she felt for him reflected.
“Dash?” Ian said. “We need to take some statements.”
Without taking his eyes from hers, Dash answered. “We need a minute, Ian.” Then he took her hand and dragged her out of the barn and around to the side, out of sight of everyone else. Pushing her against the barn, his hands raked through her hair again and his mouth crashed down on hers. It was rough, rougher than he’d ever been with her, but she didn’t mind. The reality of what had just happened was slowly sinking into her consciousness and she needed hi
m, his vitality, as much he needed her.
His hands were up under her shirt and her arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her, when the punishing kiss suddenly lost its power.
“Jesus, Matty,” Dash said breathing hard, his forehead resting against hers.
She closed her eyes and gave thanks, once again, for Dash, for the fact that he was okay. “You scared the hell out of me, Dash,” she whispered, starting to shake a bit. Or maybe it was Dash.
“If I never have to go through something like that again, it will be too soon,” he said, his unsteady hand combing her hair back.
“You and me both.” She leaned into him and could hear his heart beating a strong tattoo in his chest. “How did you know?” she asked, finally.
“I guess one of the accounts on the list Brad sent the FBI wasn’t linked to any of the Irish accounts. Damian was worried that whoever held the account might have been tipped off because of the raid and just wanted to be sure that everyone involved, meaning you and me, were aware of the situation and safe. So he called Ian, Ian called me,” he answered.
“Your rifle?” she asked. “Did you really think I might be in danger?”
Dash shook his head and lifted a shoulder at the same time. “I didn’t know, and that’s what got my blood going. I always carry a rifle in my truck on the off chance I need to deal with an injured animal quickly and safely. I grabbed it on my way up to get you.” And after a moment he added, “Jesus, I’m glad I did.”
Matty pressed herself against him again, just to feel his warmth, his body against her, but a coughing fit hit her and she nearly doubled over.
Dash held her through the fit then gently brushed a hand over her forehead. “Your fever is back. I need to get you home.”
“What about Ian?” she said. “He needs to know what Mai told me.”
Dash looked around them for a moment, then spotted Ian leaning against his car talking into his phone. He hung up when Dash waved him over.
“You guys okay?” Ian asked as he headed their way. His eyes swept over both of them then stayed on Matty. “You don’t look so good, Matty,” he added.
“She has a fever and maybe bronchitis or something like that. Can you drive us to the doctor and ask your questions on the way? Your car is closer, mine’s still at the house and I’d rather not make her walk back down the hill.”
She smiled when Ian didn’t hesitate for a second. Vivi definitely had herself a good man. But then again, so did she. Within minutes, Marcus was driving them to the hospital. Ian sat beside him in the front seat taking notes, while she sat in the back, tucked in next to Dash, answering questions.
***
Much later that night—after getting checked out by the doctor, picking up some antibiotics, enjoying an amazing Italian dinner that Vivi had cooked and that she and Ian had delivered to Dash’s and then stayed to share, and drinking more wine than she should have given the state of her health—Matty crawled into bed.
“I shouldn’t have let them stay so long,” Dash said, lying on his side facing her, his fingers tracing lines across her cheek.
“They know what it means to celebrate life, Dash. To be so thankful for it. I am tired, but I’m also glad we let our friends take care of us a little bit tonight.”
He was silent for several heartbeats but she could tell from his breathing that there was something he wanted to say. She raised her eyes to his in question.
“Were you serious about getting married, Matty?” he said bluntly.
She studied him before answering. She considered his beautiful face, though he’d hate to hear it described that way, but more than that, she studied his eyes. The way they looked at her—the love, the respect, and even that tiny bit of nervousness that had crept in at his question. She smiled and placed a palm on his cheek, brushing her thumb across his lower lip.
“Well?” he said.
“Yes,” she answered. “I was serious, Dash.”
He looked at her for such a long time that she actually started to wonder if maybe he’d been hoping she would say no—that all that talk was just that, talk. But then he smiled and a low laugh vibrated in his chest.
“Good, because I was, too. About my mom that is. You may want to let her know. I think she may have already booked the church.”
EPILOGUE
THE WEDDING WAS BEAUTIFUL. Just perfect. Matty looked around her, at all the smiling faces and couldn’t help but smile herself. And take a long sip of some of the excellent champagne Rob had provided for the reception. The flowers she’d picked were exquisite if she did say so herself and as she eyed the expansive buffet her stomach gave a low growl.
Beside her, Dash’s chuckle echoed in her ear. “Hungry, Mrs. Kent?”
She turned into her husband’s embrace and smiled. “I’m always hungry,” she said. “I have no idea how my stomach can be growling right now, I think I just ate half of everything. Vivi wasn’t kidding when she said her family was taking care of the food,” she added.
They both turned and looked at the bride and groom. Vivi looked stunning in her gown, but even more so for the smile she wore when she looked at her new husband. Beside Vivi, Ian stood, in his charcoal-gray suit, looking just as besotted as his new wife.
“Italians,” Dash said with a shrug and a smile.
Dash and Matty’s wedding had been very different in form, but not in substance. Matty knew that the expression Vivi had on her face when she looked at Ian was the same one she’d worn the day she and Dash had wed. The same look she probably still got on her face when she looked at Dash. But the wedding itself, which had taken place two weeks after Brad’s funeral, had been tiny. They had anticipated only Dash’s immediate family, Matty’s mother, and Charlotte and Nanette Lareaux. But of course Ian and Vivi had come, along with Elise, Kit, Carly, Marcus, and Jesse, who’d been accompanied by her two boys. Kristen had also asked to come and there was no way either Matty or Dash was going to say no to her—they had kind of adopted her during her father’s frequent trips and Matty loved the girl like a little sister.
After the wedding, they’d moved into the house Brad had left her, because as Dash pointed out, once they had kids, they would need a bigger place than his. They weren’t quite ready for kids yet, but Matty knew they both hoped to have a family someday and Brad’s house—their house—was big enough for two or three.
Matty’s mom had spent a good two days interrogating Dash, which he’d taken with good humor, and then finally declared him almost good enough for her daughter. Since then, Dash had been charming Carmen in every way possible and the two of them were now thick as thieves—Matty suspected her mom was buttering Dash up for grandkids sooner rather than later. She didn’t think Dash was fooled, but she also didn’t think he probably needed much prodding.
But the biggest surprise of their wedding was when her father had shown up. She was grateful he hadn’t asked to take her mom’s place and walk her down the aisle; he’d sat in the back of the church, respectful of her wishes for the day. He hadn’t accompanied them to the informal dinner reception after the ceremony but had asked Matty if they might meet or talk at a later date. She’d agreed and when they had met, when he’d asked if there was any way to even begin to make amends, she’d surprised herself by telling him about her plans to start a foundation in Brad’s name that honored the courage of everyday people. Douglas had readily agreed to help, had even begun to tear up during the conversation. She and her father had spoken a few times since and were beginning to make plans for how the organization might be structured and run.
Her mother was managing the estate in DC and she and Nanette were considering making it available to the public for events. Matty liked that idea, liked the idea of her grandmother’s house being used for weddings and other celebrations. And she liked even more that her mom and Nanette had also agreed that they wanted the whole endeavor to be a nonprofit—whatever they took in hosting fancy events would be turned around to cover the cost of h
osting events at no charge for local nonprofits.
As for Mai Zheng, she wasn’t someone Matty thought about much anymore—at least not intentionally. Although with Chen feeling so deeply horrified by his sister’s actions, by the actions of his family, he stopped by more often than she wished simply to continue to apologize.
It had been a surprise that Chen knew nothing of his family’s business, but apparently, according to Mai, Chen had been pegged at a young age as too much of a bleeding heart to be brought into the inner circles. Fortunately for Chen, the investigators were able to verify her statements. Unfortunately for everyone else, that was about all Mai said.
She was awaiting trial, but unlike the Irish group Damian’s team was able to bring down, they’d only been able to arrest two other people involved in Mai’s family, including James Connell, the man she hired to kill Brad and also hurt the animals, causing the diversion Mai had needed to continue her search of Brad’s house. After realizing his best chance at escaping the death penalty lay in implicating Mai, Connell had confessed to being a hired gun for the Zheng family and provided as much information as he could to help the authorities prosecute Mai and investigate several others.
Connell had lured Brad to the barn with a tale of an injured dog before he’d had a chance to leave town as planned. Where he was going, they never did find out, but Matty, Vivi, and the others, including the FBI, assumed he was clearing out for a few weeks knowing the turmoil that the information he’d sent to the FBI would cause. And given that they had found photos of Brad and evidence during the raid that indicated the Irish Mafia had been looking into him, it hadn’t been a bad plan.
But in all likelihood, one thing Brad hadn’t counted on was stumbling across an illegal account held by the Zheng family. The FBI couldn’t say for certain if Brad knew he’d found not just one, but two, organized crime families operating in the area, but they were leaning toward the discovery of the Zheng account as being an unintentional find, with the Irish group being Brad’s primary investigative interest. Of course, once he’d found it and syphoned money from it, he’d inadvertently tipped the Zheng family off to his activities, as Mai was much more meticulous with her accounts than her Irish counterparts.
These Sorrows We See Page 38
