Naomi shook her head. “Bullshit.”
“It’s not.”
“I heard the things he said about me!” Naomi yelled, taking a step closer, with the gun still aimed in Wolfe’s face. “I was there when he killed Nelson. Did you two know that?”
Damien nodded, his expression somber. “Barnes told me.”
Naomi narrowed her eyes, then her face curled into a scowl. “Barnes told you? So… Marcus was right about him. All this time, he worked for you. Feeding you every move I made, keeping you one step ahead, when I honestly thought he… wow.”
“I put him in place to protect you.” Naomi rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disgust, but Damien moved forward, hanging stiffly from his crutches. “It’s the truth. You were out there being reckless, as Arabesque. Working through Barnes gave you structure. Gave you purpose, gave you—”
“A false sense of hope that I would ever get to see your ass burn,” Naomi growled, taking a step away. “You can’t possibly think you were doing me a favor, or… hell, maybe you’re both just fucking crazy. Right now, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Damien shrugged. “Call it what you want, but that’s the truth. I’ve always kept you protected.”
“Not that night in that house.” Naomi’s nostrils flared, and anger boiled in her chest as she stared back at him. “The things you said about me… what you told Nelson you would do to me—”
“I say a lot of things. And sometimes, in the moment, I will say whatever needs to be said to inflict the most damage. That’s the nature of this business, Naomi. It’s a life Nelson chose to live.”
“But I didn’t!”
Damien chuckled. “Oh, but you did. When you decided to become a professional thief, entered this field, you absolutely did. Which is why I had Barnes interject, before you got yourself killed.”
“You were working with Barnes before that, though.”
“Damned right. That’s part of how I knew what Julian and Nelson were up to. The Calloway guy… he was just collateral damage.”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I’m not really concerned about how it makes you feel. It’s the truth.”
“Whatever,” Naomi spat, tightening her grip on the gun again. “None of this matters anymore, not really. I’m done. I’m done, alright?! I have wasted my whole life waiting to get back at you, only to discover it was all for… nothing. Why wouldn’t you have Barnes… I don’t know. Tell me to leave it alone. Or tell me the truth!”
Damien scoffed. “Would you have believed it? Would you have actually left it alone? You never would have stopped, Naomi. Not until it came down to this inevitable truth, and now here we are. This is the moment of reckoning. You’ve been playing your little game of catch me if you can all this time, my dear, and now… here I am. What are you going to do?”
For a moment, her aim wavered. Her eyes burned as she blinked back tears, because she didn’t know what to do. She was prepared for this, already. Back when she first heard those messages, insinuating what Damien and Noelle insisted was the truth, she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d been misguided and misled. When she finally saw Noelle, at King’s house, she’d come to terms that the mother she knew was gone, she would never accept Damien Wolfe as her father, and the only family she had was the one she’d cultivated from her friends, plus the additions of Wolfe’s innocent kids.
So what was she doing here? Why had she come? For closure? For answers? For what?
“Mimi,” Noelle said, smiling. “Think about that gorgeous man of yours, and the friends you’ve made. You wouldn’t even know them if we hadn’t all been through this!”
Oh.
Maybe that’s why she came.
Confirmation that these people were fucking crazy.
Shaking her head, Naomi lowered the gun. “I want you take me back to—”
A loud crack interrupted Naomi’s statement, and she froze in place. In front of her, Damien dropped to the floor, and after a second crack sounded – gunshots, her mind finally filled in – Noelle went down too. Naomi’s lips parted in a sob at the sight of Damien and Noelle – her parents – on the ground. Her eyes moved up, to the open door, to see Terry King standing there, ropes still drooping from his body as aimed the gun in her direction. He was notably wobbly, the whole front of his shirt soaked in blood, but… there he was.
His eyes were deranged, and his mouth spread wide in a menacing smile. “Funny how the tables turn.”
Naomi lifted her weapon and aimed, but gunfire cracked the air before she could get her finger to the trigger. Terry King dropped into a lifeless slump in front of her, and a moment later, she recognized Kendall as he came through the door. And then Marcus was there, approaching her from behind, through the doors on the other side of the room. Then Quentin, and Savi, all four holding automatic weapons and dressed in tactical gear as they converged on the room.
The gun in her own hand was quickly forgotten as she dropped to the floor beside Noelle, her mouth hanging open as she pressed her hand to the fast-spreading red stain in her white sweater. “No,” she whispered, pressing against the wound harder. “No. No. No!” she screamed, fighting against Marcus as he pulled her away from her mother to make room for Savi.
“Marcus she can’t die,” she begged, still fighting as he turned her to face him.
With his hands gripping her wrists, Marcus pulled her close, meeting her eyes. “Calm down, baby. Savi is checking her out. Ambulances are coming. We’re going to do what we can.”
“I haven’t even had a chance to know her yet!”
“I thought you didn’t care?”
“I know! I don’t! I…”
No matter what she said, how disgusted she was, how much she despised them now… what if she didn’t always feel that way? What if something changed? It was easy to feel blasé about it when they were alive and well, when she had time to come around, but now… now it was different.
It wasn’t fair, not at all, to get the answers she’d wanted for so long, and then have the people snatched away. She wanted room to hate them, room to blame them for everything that was wrong, room to… grow. And learn. And as awful as they were… maybe even love.
“Marcus, she’s my mother. I… wanted … I at least wanted the chance.”
Feeling suddenly weak, she collapsed against his chest and he wrapped her in his arms. She buried her face in the harsh, scratchy fabric of his vest, not caring how it felt, just wanting to be close. She was so tired of hurting, so tired of feeling emotionally drained, that she was just…
“No matter what happens,” she said, turning her face up toward Marcus and meeting his eyes. “We’re done. We’re through with this part of our lives. No more guns for me. No more fighting. No more diligence. No more focus. No more agility. Just my ballet class, and my baby ballerinas, and you. I’m done.”
A smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “No more tracking you… no more running off… no more Jolie Voluese?”
She shook her head. “No. No more. I’m done.”
“Naomi?”
She didn’t turn around at the sound of Savi’s voice, just held still, listening intently as she spoke, telling her about Damien and Noelle’s chances of staying alive. And then… she buried her face in Marcus’s chest again and cried.
&
One year later.
“Harrison, will you stop it, please?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to choose a dress. I need you to be serious.”
“Nope.”
“Harrison…”
Despite her protests, Savi was secretly pleased that Harrison couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her in the tiny space of the Bitty Buns dressing room. She giggled as he pulled her down onto his lap, then moved his hands underneath her dress to caress her stomach.
“Why are you being mean to me?”
Savi rolled her eyes, then looked over her shoul
der to meet his gaze. “I’m not being mean. I’m trying not to go into labor before the wedding, so I need you to keep your little friend to yourself.”
Harrison scowled. “Little? That ain’t what you were saying when I was tearing that ass and putting this baby in you. Stop playing.”
She laughed again as he buried his face in her neck, nibbling and kissing her skin. Turning her head back to the front, her mouth spread into a smile as she caught their reflection in the mirror. This was… perfect. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been happier than she was now, in Harrison’s lap, with a wedding band from their tiny ceremony on her finger, and their child growing inside her, due in exactly two days.
“You know that’s not what I meant, Agent Cole.” She pushed herself up from his lap, then turned as she pulled the dress over her head, exposing her nearly-nude body to his gaze. “See,” she said, pointing to his crotch, where his reaction to her was very obvious. “Not little at all.”
“You keep it up and we won’t get out of here,” he said, coming to stand behind her, and zipping her into the next dress.
Savi lifted an eyebrow. “She would kill us if we missed her day.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what I’m saying, baby. I don’t know why you waited until a few hours before you’re supposed to meet to do this anyway. You’re supposed to be helping her get ready, not buying a dress.”
Harrison shrank back as Savi turned on him with a fierce scowl. “How was I supposed to know my belly would grow two times overnight?”
“It’s not two times bigger. Maybe… 1.15.”
Savi’s scowl deepened. “Are you done?”
“Yes.”
“The point is,” she said, rolling her eyes as she turned to look in the mirror again, smoothing the flowy fabric over her body. “The dress I had didn’t fit, so I needed another. And… this one works. So lets buy it, and get out of here.”
Savi changed back into the clothes she’d worn into the store, and then took her aching body to the car to sit down while Harrison completed their purchase. As she reclined back into the seat, she smiled, thinking about how much their lives had changed over the last year.
For one, there were no more secrets.
Not that she’d had many from Harrison anyway, but the process of opening up helped them, a lot. They bonded over the loss of loved ones – Savi’s husband, Harrison’s mother – to cancer. She comforted him through the retelling of the times he felt alone in the world, blushed as he talked about how their relationship had kept them going through those times.
“You saved me, when I think about it,” he’d said, and Savi blushed right there in the car as she thought about the way she’d pounced on him after those words. Harrison had never been cold, not at all, but he’d mostly kept his emotions to himself. So hearing him express what she’d meant to him then, and later, what she still meant to him now… well… she was surprised they weren’t already working on a second child.
He’d been haunted, for a while, at the knowledge that he hadn’t been the one to take Terry King down. But privately, Savi was glad. Either way, the man was dead now, and Harrison didn’t have that shadow hanging over him, the lingering guilt that sometimes came with taking a person’s – however horrible they were – life. No more death. No more destruction. That part of their lives was over now, and the only emotion she could bring forth was happiness.
She’d been married before, yes. To a man who treated her with nothing but respect and love. It had been a good three years of her life, to spend with someone without having to hide, and she loved him, really. Not a passionate, consuming love, but companionable, and pleasant. She was content. She’d even been heartbroken when he became sick, and more so when he died. But she’d lying if she said that at any point, the love she’d shared with Harrison had ever left her mind.
She smiled at him when he opened the door to deposit the bag on the backseat, and then climbed into the driver’s side.
“You ready to head over there?” he asked, returning her smile as he started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.
She nodded. “Yes. Let’s go get these two married off.”
&
“Jab. Jab. Jab. Kick. I said KICK. KICK, Inez. What the fuck was that?”
Sweat poured off Inez’s body as she took a step backward, then dropped onto the mat, exhausted. Everything on her ached, and her shoulder screamed in protest as she raised her arm to wipe her face, trying to keep perspiration out of her eyes.
A moment later, Kendall’s face appeared over hers, pulled into a scowl even though there was a smile in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up. No pensé que eras un cobarde.”
“I’m not a quitter, Estúpido.”
Kendall grinned as Inez shoved him away, then climbed back to her feet. “I know that,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I’m messing with you. You did good today.”
Inez shook her head, then glanced over at the heavy bag, still swaying from her last blow. “I don’t know… not really.”
“What?” Kendall frowned. “Yes, really. You’re coming along really well.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Kendall shrugged. “Do what?”
“Mollify me. It’s been a year, Kendall. I should be back at the same physical ability by now, and I’m not, and it’s…”
“Something to keep working on. Your leg was shattered. Punctured and collapsed lung. Broken ribs. All of that takes time, and you’ve been pushing yourself to the limit. Honestly… maybe that’s why. Maybe you’re pushing yourself too hard. I wanted you to take a longer break before you started training again… remember?
Inez rolled her eyes. Of course she remembered. A month after the accident, he’d found her in the gym with her leg brace on, doing as much as she could with her vastly limited motion. He’d begged her to sit down, give it a few months before she started full training again, but she never would have lived that down.
She belonged in the action. Not in a wheelchair, not on crutches, but in the middle of the fight. And the sooner she got back into training, the sooner she got back into shape, and the sooner the agency would call her with another mission.
But she couldn’t pass the fucking physical.
“Listen to me,” Kendall said, holding her face between his hands and tipping her face up to his. “I want to see happy. And if that means going back to your job at the CIA, so be it. I’ll help you with that, but you have to listen. It’s not enough to just follow what I say at the gym. I know what I’m talking about when I tell you that your body need rest.”
Inez narrowed her eyes at Kendall. “And how do I know you’re not trying to sabotage me? Keep me weak so I can’t go back? Waiting me out, until I give up the dream?”
Kendall’s expression changed, from sympathy to veiled anger. “Inez… do you really believe that? That I would do that to you?”
She swallowed hard, then gave a subtle shake of her head. “No.”
“Good.” He nodded, then released her face from his grasp and took a step back. “Cause even if I wanted to disrupt you, I wouldn’t have to do anything. You’re doing a great job of sabotaging yourself.”
Disappointment practically oozed off him as he walked away, leaving Inez standing alone in the middle of the gym. Around her, people continued working out like it was nothing, as if Kendall hadn’t just put a verbal knife through her chest. She pretended to inspect the heavy bag, but really watched Kendall in the mirror as he headed for the back. Before he could make it, he was stopped by TJ, who now served as Kendall’s assistant MMA trainer in the gym.
She had to fight back a smile.
The close – nearly father/son – relationship between TJ and Kendall had developed rather quickly, and was actually a recent turn. She’d thought Kendall was crazy when he reached out to TJ and – with permission from the others – told the young man everything… including the fact that he’d fired the fatal blow against his father. TJ was
a very different man than his father, so none of them were really concerned about retaliation, but still… it was a risk.
At first, TJ had been understandably confused, and angry, but armed with proof of King’s misdeeds, and TJ’s own long-held suspicions about his father, he’d come around. Maybe because he needed a friend, maybe because he needed someone to fill the void left by Terry… no one except TJ really knew. But Kendall had made it clear that he was available if needed, and now… here they were.
The two men shook hands, and TJ headed back into the main area of the gym, smiling as he stopped to talk to one of their new trainees. Kendall looked up, as if he felt Inez’s gaze on him. Their eyes met, his still full of frustration, before he turned to continue towards the locker rooms.
Cursing under her breath, Inez turned her back on the bag, moving stiffly to make her way to him. She found him in the men’s locker room, shirtless, sitting on a bench to remove his shoes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping into the room, ignoring the other men in various states of undress. Kendall looked up, wearing a blank expressions.
“Not supposed to be any women back here.”
“I don’t care.”
Her limbs ached as she closed the last of the distance and then lowered her body toward his. Kendall didn’t offer any hesitation, but he groaned, sullen, before lifting his hands to help her into his lap.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, dipping her head to place a soft kiss against his lips. “It’s just… mi amor… this is hard for me.”
Kendall nodded, pulling her closer against him. “I know. I know. But... Inez, you have to understand that I would never do what you just accused me of. Do I want to take a step back from the fast lane, and have a normal life with you? Absolutely. Yes. But I don’t want you to do it because I want you do it. So I’m…”
“Waiting for me to be ready,” she finished for him, shaking her head. “And I don’t think that’s fair to you.”
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