“I… I need a minute. Can… everybody just go, please. I… just need a second.”
“Ren…” Marcus tried to grab her hand, but she snatched away, shooting him a look that was half tortured, half anger.
“Go,” she repeated, glancing between him and Kendall. “Everybody. Go.”
Savannah wasted no time getting out of there, and Marcus and Kendall reluctantly followed. The door closed behind them, and Quentin was left there, torn between making his own attempt at comforting her, and answering the quiet voice that still nagged at him to leave her alone.
She cleared tears from her face with a harsh swipe, then her gaze lifted to where Quentin stood. Their eyes met, and for a while, neither moved. Just as Quentin was finally about to open his mouth to speak, the warmth dropped from Renata’s eyes, replaced by a coldness that made him feel… dejected.
“Everybody,” she said, nostrils flared. “Go away.”
Well damn.
It would have been grossly disingenuous to pretend that her words didn’t sting… but he couldn’t blame her. After treating her like shit, did he really expect to be allowed to play comforter? He gave her a quick nod, then obliged her wishes and left, pulling the door closed behind him.
On the other side, he paused to take a deep breath, then headed back to his computer. Even if he couldn’t make her feel better… he could — no, would — find out who was behind this shit.
— & —
Wolfe had called.
Some time after she’d been able to catch her breath from the devastating news of the fire at her apartment, Renata reached for her phone, on the table beside her bed. It had been there for a while, turned off and missing the protective case she usually kept it in. Both things told her that someone, probably Quentin, maybe Kendall, had already stripped it, checked for tracking or recording devices, mined it for any information it held, and then decided she could have it back.
But… getting the phone back meant that whoever held the most authority — probably Naomi — thought she could be trusted.
At least one person does, she thought, as she powered on the phone. While she waited for the phone, she’d leaned back into her pillows, wondering how soon the next dose of painkillers was. The bullet to her shoulder had fractured several bones before exiting her body, and the hot heaviness of the wound didn’t seem keen on letting her forget. Renata breathed a heavy sigh. It was just her luck that the bullet had gone through her right shoulder, instead of the left. How was she supposed to work, live, paint, or do what she needed to get Taylor back with her dominant side out of commission?
Well maybe Wolfe should have thought of that before he tried to have me killed.
Because… it really wasn’t very fair, if he expected her to still pull off the job against King Pharmaceuticals.
Internally, she scoffed.
If.
That was ridiculous.
Of course he still wanted her to pull off hacking and sabotaging one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the country, one that had millions — if not billions — of dollars worth of contracts with the federal government. Of course. He wouldn’t care that she was injured — would probably call it her fault for “running” or whatever he thought she’d done that warranted a shootout. Damien Wolfe would still expect her to get it done, and he wouldn’t reunite her with her daughter until she had.
That, she was sure of.
Once her phone was fully powered on, she unlocked the screen and was immediately met by several notifications. Some from various apps, a few reminders of upcoming work events and deadlines, and… two missed calls from Wolfe.
Renata’s breath caught in her throat.
What did he want?
They weren’t calls from the same mysteriously scrambled numbers that popped up on her screen when she was presented with another problem to solve. These were calls from his personal number, the one he unequivocally expected her to answer when it rang.
And she hadn’t.
Twice.
With a deep breath, she pressed the button on the side of the bed that would notify the others that she needed something. While she waited for someone to come, she began turning over the possibilities in her mind.
What did he want?
Was he calling as a way to see if she were still alive? To make sure she’d heard about the fire? To inform that her services were no longer needed, and she wouldn’t ever see Taylor again? Or… maybe to change her mission? If he knew for sure that she was working with Naomi and Quentin now… would she be forced to play mole, or maybe even saboteur? Her brain was still running with possibilities when the door opened and Naomi and Inez stepped in.
“What’s going on?” Naomi asked, wariness in her eyes as she approached the bed.
Renata took a deep breath, then blurted it out. “Wolfe called… and I need to call him back. I don’t know what he’ll do if I don’t call back.”
Inez nodded, looking back and forth between Renata and Naomi. “Agreed. Especially with so much going on. The last thing we need is an assumption of anything. We know how Wolfe operates… he comes on strong, no mercy. We need to know what he knows.”
“Okay… so what’s the plan?” Naomi turned her attention to Renata. “Does he do this often, calling you?”
“Not… often,” Renata said, allowing the phone to drop into her lap so she could rub her the bridge of her nose. “Before he took Taylor, once every six months or so, no matter how many times I changed my number. Since he’s had her, he calls once a week to let me talk to her, and she texts me from her own phone sometimes.”
“And today’s call?”
With a heavy sigh, Renata shook her head. “Is off schedule. I talked to them five days ago, so… I think we can safely assume it’s about the shooting, and/or the fire.”
The fire.
Even more than the shooting, she was trying to block that from her mind. Before she’d left for her “summer vacation” with her father — as Wolfe had phrased it — Taylor had been adamant about making sure that her room, overwhelmingly girly, decorated in soft shades of peach and white, remained intact while she was gone. No surprise makeovers — as Renata had done before — no snooping, no closet purging. She wanted her room to stay exactly as she left it, and Renata had promised her that.
Now, that promise was broken.
Her yearbooks, class pictures, report cards, all of the things she’d collected as her little girl grew up were gone. The knick-knacks they’d picked up while moving from place to place when Taylor was younger, back when Renata still thought maybe she could hide from Wolfe— gone. And her own personal escape, the paintings that were either too private or too precious to sell or giveaway, the ones she pulled out when she needed something emotionally… gone.
“So, here’s what I think we should do.”
Renata blinked hard as Inez’s voice snapped her out of her musings.
“You should call back, and just remain neutral. Naomi and I will stay in the room. Let him ask the questions. Don’t tell him where you are, if he asks, just say you’re in a safe place. We’ll see where we can get from there, okay?”
“Okay,” Renata agreed. “But… it’s usually… he insists on video calling.”
Naomi’s eyes narrowed. “So… he forces you to look at him when he’s talking?” She rolled her eyes, then lifted her hand to massage the back of her neck, mumbling a this muthafucka-style rant under her breath. “Okay,” she said, when she lifted her head again. “We’ll prop the phone against something, so he only sees you, and you don’t have to hold it. It’s not a big deal for him to see your arm in a sling. If he asks, just give him a direct answer.”
Renata nodded, then sat up a little more in the bed as Inez positioned the phone. When she and Naomi were out of view of the camera, she gave Renata a “thumbs up” gesture, and Renata reached forward, pressing the few buttons she needed to make the call.
Her call was answered almost immediately, and she was unsur
prised to see Wolfe’s assistant, Harrison, on the screen. In another lifetime, under different circumstances, she may have considered him handsome, — skin the color of cooked caramel, brown eyes, chiseled features, and a tall, athletic frame — but as it was, he worked for Wolfe. Never had she gotten an “evil” vibe from him like the one she got from Wolfe, but… that almost made it worse, if he was just terrible for hire.
“Ms. Parker. What can Wolfe Tobacco Industries do you for you today?” he asked casually. Renata swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady as she answered.
“My cell was turned off, and I missed a few calls. I’m returning them. Is Taylor okay?”
The question was out of her mouth before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be doing the “asking”. She shot at a subtle glance at Naomi and Inez, who were both wearing grim expressions.
“Taylor is perfectly fine. She and Kennedy are getting along very well — as siblings should.”
Renata resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that statement, opting instead to press her lips together until the compulsion to be snarky went away. “Do you know why he called, Harrison?”
“Ask him yourself,” was Harrison’s curt response. “He’s done on the other line now.”
Behind him on the screen, Renata could see the office scenery change as he moved, presumably to where Wolfe was. Before handing off the phone, he spoke again.
“Hey Parker,” he said, giving her his usual smirk.
“What?”
He winked. “Glad to see you alive.”
Renata’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to respond, but the face on the screen had already shifted to Wolfe.
Even through the phone, his gaze was calculating as it swept over what he could see of her. Despite her desire to appear confident, her voice wavered as she spoke.
“Did you need something?”
He grinned, then shook his head as he chuckled. “What, you can’t speak? Hello, Ms. Parker. Good morning, good to see you. See… that wasn’t very hard, was it?”
With a clenched jaw, Renata responded with, “Hello, Wolfe.”
Again, he shook his head. “I guess that’ll work… for now.”
After that, he said nothing, just sat there with the same scrutinizing look as before.
“Did you need something from me?” Renata asked again, growing impatient. He’d called twice, and she knew it wasn’t just for the sake of calling. Wolfe did nothing just for the sake of doing it.
“I want to know how far you are with King Pharmaceuticals.”
At that moment, the door opened again and Quentin and Marcus walked in, carefully closing the door behind them. Already feeling a heavy sense of dread, Renata didn’t look away, keeping her eyes on the screen.
“I’m not… anywhere, with KP. I’m… trying to figure my way through their firewall to gain access, but it’s not a simple process. I… I need time. And help that I don’t have. I’ve told you this isn’t a one person job.”
Wolfe smiled, a gesture that was simultaneously terrifying and pleasing to the eyes. “Help that you don’t have? Why… Ms. Parker, I beg to differ. You see… I heard an interesting story recently, involving a certain family member of mine. It would seem that she has involved herself with a very… what’s the term I’m looking for, Harrison?”
“That motherfucker thinks he’s Mike Lowery!” Harrison’s voice came from the background.
Chuckling, Wolfe nodded. “Yes indeed. Loyal, but impulsive, smart, but destructive, arrogant, but with a heart of gold. Special Agent Marcus Calloway thinks he’s Mike Lowery. You know who that is, right, Will Smith, Martin Lawrence, Bad Bo—”
“I know who he is, thank you,” Renata snapped. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Well… you see, Marcus Calloway is one of the agents on your team, and I know for a fact that he’s romantically involved with a certain young lady I know very well. That young lady is family. Blood family. She knows someone who can help you.”
“And what exactly should I say, when I ask for this assistance?”
“I don’t care what you say Ms. Parker, I just want the job done. Tell them whatever you need to.”
“And if they refuse?”
Wolfe’s expression turned cold, and Renata stiffened under his steely gaze.
Off-camera, Harrison spoke up again. “She thinks we’re stupid, boss.”
Wolfe nodded. “Yes, she does. She thinks I don’t see how convenient it was for Calloway and my beautiful Naomi to be in Barbados the same night an attempt was made on Rochas’ life. Ms. Parker thinks I don’t know Calloway was pretending to be a dirty FBI agent to take down Victor Lucas. She thinks I didn’t notice her change in pattern, that she started spending a little too much time at that gym Naomi and Quentin own. She is insulting my intelligence to think I can’t put two and two together.”
“A gym membership is insulting to you?” she asked, fighting to keep the strain from showing in her face or voice.
Wolfe lifted a hand, pointing at the phone in a “do you believe this?” kind of gesture as he looked at something — presumably Harrison — off screen. He chuckled. “Let me make this plain for you, Renata. I want King Pharmaceuticals to go down, and I want you to do it.”
“Then why did you try to kill me and the only person I know who can help?”
Eyebrow raised, Wolfe turned his attention back to the screen. “I wasn’t behind that — you can believe or not believe that, it’s your choice. But you and LaForte are worth far more to me alive, so hear me on this — it’s being taken care of. I don’t play about business, and I don’t play about my family. Anybody who fucks with either will be dealt with. Ask Victor Lucas.”
Immediately, her eyes went to Naomi, at the realization that Wolfe had essentially admitted to being behind the death of Victor Lucas. A moment later, Renata’s gaze went back to the screen and stayed locked there, as Taylor’s face appeared beside Wolfe.
The similarity in appearance between her innocent, beautiful daughter and her predatory father had always bothered Renata. Still, the sight of that sweet face, which she hadn’t seen in what felt like forever, made tears spring to her eyes. She cupped a hand over her mouth to choke back a sob as Taylor smiled at the screen.
“Hi Momma!” she said, with a cheerful wave.
Swallowing her emotion, Renata replied. “Hi baby. How are you? Are you okay?”
Taylor gave back a playful roll of her eyes. “Of course, Mom, I’m fine! I’m having so much fun here! Kennedy introduced me to all of her friends, since I’ll be going to school with her when the semester starts.”
Renata’s eyes shot to Wolfe. “What?” she asked in disbelief.
“Well, I explained to Taylor that you have a terribly important project you’re working on, so you wouldn’t be able to give her the attention she needs, and she may be a distraction for you. When I told her that it may be best that she not return home until you’ve completed your project, we agreed that she would stay here for the upcoming school year.” He finished with a smile that some might read as encouraging, but all Renata saw was him taunting her.
“Yeah Mom,” Taylor chimed in, her face beaming. “They set up a room for me and everything! I’m gonna miss you like crazy, but I’m having a blast! Thank you Daddy!”
Renata had to look away from the screen as Taylor placed a big kiss against Wolfe’s cheek. That, the thought that Taylor thought this man was worthy of her positive opinion, made her stomach turn.
“Mom, what happened to your arm?!”
Renata turned back to her phone to see that Taylor’s jovial expression had shifted to one of concern, at the realization that her mother’s arm was in a sling.
“It’s nothing,” Renata responded, but Wolfe shook his head.
“She’s not a baby. Tell her what happened.”
Nostrils flared, she considered if it would be worth it to tell Taylor she’d been shot because of her father. Pro
bably true, even if in a roundabout way, but definitely not worth the chance of Wolfe’s retaliation. Not while her child was in his care.
“Mom… what is it?”
With a deep breath, Renata shot a glare at Wolfe, then focused on her daughter. “There was a fire, baby. Everything in the apartment is gone. I’m so sorry.”
Taylor’s mouth dropped open in shock, eyes wide, but before she could say anything, Wolfe chimed in. “But, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, baby girl. I’m going to make sure your mother has everything she needs, starting with a new apartment, and we’ll replace all of your stuff. How does that sound? Would you like that?”
Taylor nodded, then gave him a big hug before turning back to the screen. “Mom, I’m so glad you decided to let Dad be in my life! See how awesome he is?!”
Ugh.
With a quick wave, and her sorrow about the fire already forgotten, Taylor bounced out of the camera frame, and a few moments later, Renata heard the distant closing of a door.
“What a beautiful child,” Wolfe said, smiling as he turned back to the screen. “You wanna see her again… you get your new friends on board, and take King down. Figure it out.”
And with that, he ended the call.
As soon as she registered that he’d hung up, Renata grabbed the phone and torpedoed it across the room with a scream, feeling no remorse as it shattered into pieces against the concrete wall. For a moment after that, she just felt… frozen, but then somewhere in her, the dam broke, and she dropped her face into her hand as she sobbed.
She didn’t feel any pain, not from her shoulder or head. The pain she felt was a deep, cavernous ache of emptiness and loss. She had… nothing. It seemed like no matter what, she just…. couldn’t escape the poison that Wolfe spread.
Somebody placed a hand on her shoulder, and without looking up, she knew it was Naomi. Tearfully, Renata turned to her, futilely attempting to dry her face with her hands.
“So,” Naomi said, addressing the room, instead of just Renata. “I know we still have some things to figure out, but… it looks like we’ve got our next plan.”
Release Me If You Can Page 5
