by James, Marie
“We worked, too,” Catfish says with a little irritation in his voice.
I shake my head. “You spent four years in the Corps. I was there seventeen. You really want to compare our work ethic?”
He flips me off. When I first got here two months ago, I wouldn’t have bothered to joke around with them or call them out on their shit. After several missions and a couple of close calls, these guys have finally accepted me into their inner circles.
I can’t say the same for Kincaid. He talks at me, barks orders, listens with professionalism when there’s a problem, but for the most part, he sends Shadow with information or Blade with intel. I stopped taking it personal weeks ago when I realized he’s not really treating me any differently than he does the other guys.
His inner circle: Shadow, Dom, Kid, Jaxon, and Rob are different, but he’s been with those guys going on twenty years. I understand that type of brotherhood. I can also accept that I’ll never be a part of it.
“You wanna grab a beer?” I glare at Rocker as I walk past him into the clubhouse. “Don’t be a pussy.”
I growl, no menace in the act. A long hard look at him and I can tell he’s fucking with me. He looks tired as fuck, and I bet we all lay down and sleep for the next two days.
The mission to Russia was beyond fucked. The three girls we were sent to recover were dead before the wheels of our plane left New Mexico soil two weeks ago. We didn’t find that out, though, until four days ago. All the guys took it hard, but I took it harder.
The trio of seventeen-year-olds were all abducted after softball practice. Same graduating class, same small town. Two were cousins, so that family took a double hit. They just never showed up for dinner that night. Hell, I found out the small-town Baptist church they all attended offered to pay for the recovery. Grinch, the other Cerberus member who leads missions when we split up, informed me that Kincaid wouldn’t take a dime from them. He said we have funds and accounts to help people like this. Kincaid isn’t the type of man to bankrupt a small community just because they wanted their children back.
So the three-day Cerberus bender was about healing, regret, and the stolen lives of three young women who didn’t deserve the fate they ended up with. We were waiting for Kincaid to work some things out, giving us the ability to carry home the decomposing bodies so their families will have some closure.
“It never gets easier.”
I look up and see Kincaid standing in the kitchen of the clubhouse. He offers me a beer, and even though the thought of turning it up to my lips makes me want to vomit, I take it from him.
“Thanks.” I tilt it his direction in salute before turning it up to my lips.
We stand in silence for a long moment, me just letting the weight of the mission hang heavy in the air. He, being the true leader he is, gives me this moment of reprieve.
“It’s not my first loss. It’s not even my first civilian loss, but it just fucked me up more than I thought possible.”
My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket, but I ignore it.
“I was affected when I was younger.” His calm voice is like a balm to the wounds our trip opened. “But when I became a father to two precious, helpless little girls it was always more difficult.”
“It’s why you’ll never stop looking for Gigi even when she’s adamant that she doesn’t want to be found.”
It’s not a question. I know I’d do exactly the same thing he is. I’d do everything in my power to keep my child safe, even if she fought me every step of the way.
“You’ll understand when you’re a dad.” With a quick nod of his head, he leaves me standing alone in the kitchen.
“Right,” I mutter and pour the rest of my beer down the drain.
My phone buzzes again, the second notification from the text I got a moment ago, but I don’t pull my phone out of my pocket until my bags are thrown in the corner, and I’m stripped down to my boxers.
My stomach turns, and I nearly vomit for a whole other reason when I finally look down at the message.
Blade: Georgia has an appointment at the abortion clinic in two days. Sending info.
It buzzes again in my hand with the address of a women’s clinic on Sahara in Las Vegas.
A cold sweat chills my skin.
My first instinct is to grab the keys to one of the SUVs and make the sub-nine hour trip across the desert.
My second instinct is to allow her to make her own decisions.
Her body, her choice.
I made the same argument once before, and that didn’t work out the way I’d expected it to either.
Without a second thought, I unlock my darkened phone and make a call.
“Hey, you.”
My eyes close at the sweet sound of her voice.
“Hey, you,” I mimic.
“I have a ton stuff to take care of tonight.”
I can hear the TV going in the background and other voices close by.
“I just wanted to call and hear your voice, baby.”
“My day is pretty busy tomorrow, too.”
I nod. “Maybe the day after?”
“Who are you talking to?” The male voice I despise echoes through her phone, and I clutch mine even tighter.
“Nicky from work,” she lies.
“Tell her I said ‘hi.’”
“Jim says hi,” she says into the phone.
“Tell Jim to jump off of a cliff.”
I clamp the bridge of my nose with my fingers.
“Saturday will be best,” she assures me, ignoring my jab. The noise level lowers, and I can tell that she’s walking away from whatever group she was with. “He’ll be gone Friday night and won’t be back until late on Sunday. I can talk more then, but I’ll text you later.”
“I love you, Izzy,” I tell her.
“Love you, too,” she whispers before ending the call.
I haven’t told Izzy about my fuck up with the Prez’s daughter. I haven’t even mentioned her once. She’s asked more than once about my job here. I give her the basics, protecting her from my mistakes, but she’ll know eventually. If Gigi is pregnant, if I do exactly what my instinct is telling me to do, then I risk losing Izzy altogether. For the first time in my life, I’m honestly torn between two decisions. For the first time in my life, I second guess whether choosing Izzy over all others is what’s best. I’m torn between breaking the heart of a girl I swore to love and protect seventeen years ago or a twenty-year-old wild child who spends her life running away from her family just because they want her to grow the fuck up.
My hands clench until they hurt as I lie in bed trying to make a decision, a decision I knew wasn’t a fucking decision the second that fucking text came through.
“Fuck,” I roar as I climb out of bed and get dressed.
Hoping to find Grinch in the living room where chatter is coming from, I stop dead when I see Kincaid and Shadow having a couple of beers with some of the guys that just returned from Russia.
“Beer?” Scooter asks, pointing to the cooler near his feet.
“No thanks.” I turn to Kincaid. “Can I borrow one of the SUVs, and take a couple of days off?”
He watches me for a long moment, analyzing the look on my face and trying to figure out exactly what’s going on.
“Can I ask what’s up?”
I clear my throat.
“You can.”
This isn’t going to be pretty.
“And you’ll tell me the truth.”
“Yes, Sir.”
His face softens. “But you don’t want to tell me.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Do you need backup?”
I shake my head. “No, sir. This is mostly personal.”
His eyes widen, but only a little. He nods, and I can see a pleading on his face. I’ve seen that look once before, so I know he knows the nature of my business.
“Be safe.” I turn to leave. “Keep your promise.”
I walk out without responding. I d
id make him a promise, but I won’t repeat it, especially when I know I may not be able to keep it.
Chapter 16
Gigi
“Seriously?”
I roll my eyes at my new roommate.
“Calm the fuck down,” she hisses. “I worked a double yesterday.”
I swipe at the angry tears running down my cheeks as I toss another small pile of clothes out of my way.
“You worked a double two days ago. Then you got fucked up on pills.” I kick the small table between our beds just to make noise. “I worked your double yesterday. On my one and only day off I had scheduled for the next two weeks.”
“I’ll work your shift tonight,” she offers.
My eyes narrow at her kindness.
“I’ll work my own shifts, thank you very much.”
I’m normally nice to my roommates, but this one has a different guy in her bed sometimes twice a day, and the fucked-up part is she isn’t a prostitute. At least with Farrah, I knew she was working to build up a nest egg. Kori just sleeps with guys to sleep with guys, and she’s not even courteous about it.
“But today’s your thing, right?”
Nosy bitch.
“Right?” She sits up in bed. “You won’t be able to work after.”
“I’ll be fine,” I hiss, hating that she overheard me on the phone when I made the appointment last week. I even gave them my real name, knowing Blade would probably track me down in whatever IT magical way he finds me.
“I’m not saying you’re a weak person, Annie. I’m saying, from experience, working a ten-hour shift on your feet after an abortion isn’t going to be possible.”
I collapse on my bed.
“I need the money,” I mumble.
She laughs. “For what? It’s not like you’re saving up to take care of a baby.”
I stare at her back when she goes to the restroom, but turn my eyes when she doesn’t even bother to close the door before she sits on the commode.
“How are you getting there?” The toilet flushes and the water in the shower starts. “I can get Simon to take you.”
“I’m taking the bus. I don’t want to be anywhere near Simon.”
I shudder at the thought of her boyfriend taking me to do something so personal. Technically, he’s not her boyfriend, just a guy she keeps around and uses for things like money and transportation. He’s head over heels in love with her, has been since they ran away from home together a couple of years ago, but Kori is too wild to see what’s in front of her eyes.
“He’s not a bad guy,” she yells over the sound of the shower.
I know he’s not, but today is going to be emotionally exhausting. Simon always wants to talk about Kori and what I think he should do to make her love him. The last time he asked and I was in a shitty mood, I told him to walk away from her. Let her live her life like she wants. Even if she’s fucking up, it’s her choice.
He wasn’t very happy about that. So unhappy in fact, he told her what I said. She was livid with me, which I normally wouldn’t have an opinion one way or the other about, but I have to trust this girl enough to at least not slit my throat while I’m sleeping. Praying she wouldn’t rob me blind was even asking too much of her.
“Like I said.” Kori comes in buck ass naked and drying her unhealthy hair with a sheet-thin towel. “The first one is always the hardest. I’ll cover your shift tonight.”
“It’s the last one,” I mutter to myself.
“Huh?” She turns her head in my direction.
“I said thanks. I won’t ask you to cover another. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t worry,” she says with a wide grin. “You’ll owe me.”
I only nod, not willing to argue the point of covering her double shift yesterday while she slept off the effects of the handful of pills she took that should’ve killed her.
After I find the jeans I was looking for earlier, I scoop up my clothes and toiletries and head to the bathroom, making sure to lock the door. I miss Farrah more than I ever thought I would when she came home three weeks ago and said she was getting married to the choking trucker. She promised to stop by when they drive through, but I haven’t seen her yet. Probably never will again.
I shower and dress before opening the door. Steam follows me out of the room, and my clothes stick to my body. There is not one window in this small apartment. If it weren’t for both of us having keys to the deadbolt, It’d almost be like a prison cell with only one way in and one way out. It goes against everything my father instilled in us as kids.
“You sure you don’t want Simon to take you?” She looks back down at her hands and types away on her phone.
“I’m good, thanks though.”
“It’s free if Simon takes you.” She looks up again.
Why is she hounding me about this?
“It’s free for me, not him. I’m not going to owe Simon a damn thing.”
“You won’t owe him anything. I will.”
And she’ll never repay him. She uses people. She always has an ulterior motive. Always thinking of deception two steps ahead. I won’t owe her by proxy either.
“The bus is fine.”
I flip my hair over and gather it in a loose ponytail before twisting it into a bun. I’m in desperate need of a haircut, but I’ve been so tired. I add keeping my long hair to my mental pro/con list I’ve been building since the second line showed up on the dollar store piss test. I get too hot with it down against my neck, but I have a raging headache within an hour of pinning it up.
“Suit yourself,” Kori says as she tosses her phone on her mattress and tugs a Benny’s Diner t-shirt over her head. She doesn’t bother with a bra. Hell, I don’t know if the woman even owns one. She probably left it back home with her modesty.
“Where did you get the money?”
“Huh?” I look up at her after putting my real ID in my purse.
“For the abortion. You said you’re going to the clinic down on Sahara? That’s not some back-alley procedure. That’s like a legit fucking place. Expensive. Where did you get the money?”
Holy hell. What has this girl been through?
For a second I wonder if she’s going to shake me down for the cash, and that’s the reason she was pressing so hard for me to ride with her friend.
“The father is paying for it.”
“He just handed over six hundred dollars in cash?”
Her head pulls back a few inches as if she’s shocked, but then she licks her lips, literally salivating at the thought of having access to that much cash. No doubt she’s imagining all of the drugs she could buy with it.
“Fuck no.” I release a heartless laugh. “He’s meeting me there. Said he didn’t trust a whore with that kind of money.”
My stomach turns, part with the morning sickness I haven’t been able to kick but also at the thought of how Jameson would actually act if he found out that he knocked me up during our little tryst.
Her face falls, filled with disappointment, and I immediately begin to think of moving on soon. She doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon, and there’s no way I can stay feeling so unsafe. As soon as I heal from this procedure, I’m on to bigger and better things.
I wait until Kori heads downstairs to work my shift before going back into the bathroom and pulling away the broken tile behind the toilet. Thankfully, the wad of cash I’ve managed to hang onto for months is still there. I take all of it, even though it’s more than today will cost. I have to find a different place to keep it, and I’m thinking outside of this apartment is going to be best.
The trip on public transportation isn’t as bad as it could be. At least it’s daytime, and no one tries to sit on my lap like the last time I made a trek across town.
I do like always, keep my head down, headphones in with no music. It’s a deterrent for people who want to bother me, but still gives me the ability to be cognizant of what’s going on around me. I’m closed off, angry look on my face, as unapproachabl
e as possible.
Forty-five minutes and one bus switch later I’m standing near the parking lot of the clinic. I take a deep breath, having already made my decision before today. Keeping a baby while running from town to town isn’t possible, so there’s only one solution.
I pat my pocket, making sure I didn’t get rolled by the teenager who bumped into me on my way off of the bus. Relieved, but for some reason also saddened by it still being there, I walk toward the front door.
For the third time in my life, I’m hauled off of my feet and tossed over a shoulder. Even as embarrassing as this is, when the scent of his cologne fills my nose, I smile against his back, and I don’t even argue when he roughly shoves me into the front seat of an SUV I recognize as my dad’s. I remain silent as he clips my belt and walks around to the driver’s seat.
Chapter 17
Hound
“You look like shit,” I spit when I settle in behind the steering wheel.
Fun fact, she actually looks gorgeous. Her long brown hair is more radiant than I remember, and her blue eyes, although not as bright as before, shine.
“Nice talk,” she says and reaches for the door handle.
I growl before I even realize I want to. My hand clamps on her thigh, squeezing until she yelps from the unintentional pain.
“Why are you here?”
I angle my head toward the women’s clinic.
“You know exactly why I’m here.”
She huffs a humorless laugh. “This is a Cerberus SUV.”
Small talk isn’t her style, and since neither is keeping her thoughts bottled up, I wait for her to get to the point she wants to make.
“I have to say,” she begins looking away from me and out the window. “I’m surprised you’re still working for him. Figured you would’ve tried to fuck my mom by now.”
“I’m sure my employment will end today,” I say not taking her bait and getting riled up at the mother comment.
“Why are you here?” she asks again. “To stop me?”
I look out the window, the battle in my heart and head telling me to beg her to walk away from this place raging like a literal fire.
“I’m here to hold your hand or—”
