Release Me If You Can

by Christina C Jones

  Whew.

  Renata felt a little bit of relief at that. It had been part of her concern when she was supposed to be working on this alone, that other people would get hurt, physically or otherwise because of her. Now, she was glad to hear that no one would be getting bad drugs, or anything like that, but still… there were lost jobs to think about, and those kids who relied on the King foundation to pay for their medicine… either way it went, the victory would be hollow.

  Long after the meeting wrapped up, she sat upstairs in her “new” room, one of many guest rooms in Inez’s house. Savi had cleared her to be off of the monitors, so there was no reason she had to stay downstairs in the med room. Being up here made her feel less isolated, more like she was part of them, instead of just a stranger.

  She picked up two painkillers from her bedside table, then changed her mind and only took one. She was still dealing with a lot of pain, but the last thing she needed was a clouded mind, or a potential addiction, especially after what she’d found out about King Pharma. Laying back into a propped position against her pillows, she wondered what Taylor was doing. Someone, probably Kendall, had replaced the phone she destroyed, but neither Taylor — nor Wolfe — had called or texted.

  But that’s not abnormal, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath to stop from descending into a panic. Taylor was a teenager, living with her half-sister for the summer, and it was a Friday. Movies, skating, the mall… there were plenty of things Taylor probably wanted to do besides texting back and forth with her mom. Taylor was fine. And despite the horrible things she thought of Wolfe, she didn’t really believe he would hurt their daughter, or allow her to be hurt by anyone.

  He’d put a bullet through my head in a heartbeat though.

  With that sobering thought, her mind shifted to the man on the other side of the wall. Inez had given her a suggestive wink when she led her to that room, whispering that Quentin was “just a few feet away if you need him at night” before she slinked off.

  Renata had no intentions of “needing” Quentin, especially not at night, in a house full of people. There were more important things at hand than soothing raging hormones.

  If only her hormones knew that.

  Instead, they were indeed raging, especially with the knowledge that he was right next door. He’d kissed her, waking up feelings and thoughts that were probably best left sleeping. Especially now. Maybe under different circumstances, if she still had her daughter safe at home, she would have gone about this in a completely different way. If she’d been asked onto their team, discovered who he was… maybe a sexy little cat and mouse game until he discovered the truth? A hacker-style seduction, or something?

  She rolled her eyes, and nearly laughed at the thought of her seducing anybody. Renata knew she was “cute”, but sexy… barely. Not at all like Naomi or Inez, who oozed sex, without even trying. Inez was beautiful, badass, and fun. Naomi was beautiful, badass, and deadly. Renata was… cute. And smart! And… no wonder there had been a “thing” between Quentin and Naomi.

  He hadn’t talked about her often — for reasons that were apparent now — but Renata knew enough. Knew that they grew up together. Knew they lost their parents together. Knew they’d worked together all this time. When he revealed that he occasionally slept with his mysterious “partner”, she remembered thinking that it was a bad idea. The whole “sleeping with friends” thing pretty much never worked out, but apparently, between Quentin and Naomi, it just… did.

  Once Renata actually saw Naomi, with that gorgeous deep brown skin, and those eyes, and that body… she totally understood. Hell, if she were Quentin, she would have slept with her too, and thanked her afterwards for the privilege. In her view, Naomi was the kind of woman that men salivated over, obsessed over, pretended to hate so they wouldn’t have to admit just how mesmerized they were — kinda like Marcus.

  But, Renata had seen the way Naomi and Quentin interacted. It was an easy, friendly interaction, exactly the kind you would expect from people who’d known each other for so long. There were no long, pining stares, no hint of jealousy from Quentin when Naomi was with Marcus. So… it seemed like what he’d told her, that he and his “partner” may sleep together, but were really just friends, was true. And that was relieving.

  Why was that relieving?

  When it came down to it, the only title she held with Quentin was “friend” too. And she barely had that. Yeah, he’d kissed her, but… he’d slept with Naomi. Probably a lot, before Marcus entered the picture. So… maybe that was just the kind of thing he did with his friends?

  With a heavy sigh, Renata closed her eyes and leaned further back into her pillows. It was ridiculous to even be wondering these things about Quentin, with everything else going on. Her painkiller was starting to take effect, so when a knock sounded at the door, she found it hard to open her eyes.

  “Come in,” she mumbled as loud as she could, hoping it was loud enough to be heard.

  A moment later, the door swung open, and Quentin sauntered in. “Hey… just wanted to check on ya’… see if you needed anything.”

  Renata suppressed the filthy thought that first crossed her mind. He looked like he’d just left the weight room or something, because his arms were glistening with moisture, and his breathing wasn’t quite relaxed. Her own breath caught in her chest as he walked up to the bed.

  “N-no,” she stammered. “I’m… I’m good. Thank you.”

  A little smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “You sure? You sound a little… smothered.”

  Renata took a deep breath, willing her eyes to stay open. “Painkillers,” she managed, just before she gave in and closed her eyes. A second later, she was able to force them back open, and Quentin was already pulling the covers over her with a grin.

  “G’night, cher.”

  A deep feeling of calm filled Renata as Quentin leaned over her, just enough to press his lips to her forehead. She was too out of it to verbally respond, but she smiled before she closed her eyes again, then heard the click of the lamp as he turned out the light.

  seven.

  Diligence. Focus. Agility.

  Alone in her car, Naomi repeated her mantra as she glanced in the rearview mirror. She barely drove the vehicle — barely drove at all — so it was unlikely that she would be recognized or followed, but still… couldn’t be too careful, with people breaking into apartments, and holding shootouts on the highway these days.

  She wasn’t really supposed to be out alone after the attempt on her life, and she knew Marcus was probably going to flip when he found out. But… she just needed some time. Alone time. With most of their lives in danger, and no real ideas on who the current deadliest enemy was, the entire team was spending most of their time at Inez’s house. Her house was secure, in a private, gated neighborhood peppered with government agents, current and past, some covert, some not. One would have to be stupid to start anything there.

  Out here in the wild, it was a different story. Still, whatever risk it posed was well worth it to get out of the house. It was spacious enough, plenty of room for everybody, but still. Unless Naomi stayed confined to her room, and kicked Marcus out, there just seemed to be people everywhere. As much as she enjoyed their company, she really just needed some time away from them.

  Away from Renata.

  Naomi believed in her gut that Renata was on their side. She seemed to be really sweet, Quentin liked her, and in spite of the threat Naomi had made, she really didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward Renata for telling Marcus about his father. She would have done the exact same thing, probably not as quietly. Renata was intelligent, highly valuable to the team, and obviously the woman was good at keeping secrets. So… it wasn’t that she didn’t like her… it was just that being around Renata made Naomi feel sick.

  “How's that pretty little girl of yours? Looks just like Noelle, doesn't she? She's what... sixteen now? Tight little body... pussy is probably still brand new... yeah... perfect time
to pay her a little visit. Maybe she'll behave better than her momma.”

  Wolfe’s parting words to her father played over in her head as she thought about what he’d done to Renata. A week had passed since everything came to light. Naomi had been able to coax a little more detail out of her — just a little — and Quentin had filled in what he could without violating Renata’s privacy, because that was absolutely not the goal. She’d been violated enough. But the information she had was enough to make Naomi wonder… had Renata been her replacement?

  She hadn’t even gone home the night of the shooting, she’d gone straight to Quentin’s, blood-soaked and hysterical by the time she made it to his door. What if Wolfe had gone to the apartment, looking for her? And once he didn’t find her… any pretty sixteen year old would do? For what had to be the hundredth time in the last week, guilt swept over Naomi at the thought of Renata’s violation being the only reason he had never come for her.

  Vividly, she remembered his angry declaration, Gonna have to change my motherfucking jacket before we hit this party. So… going to that party that night wasn’t a fluke. And Wolfe had never struck her as the type of man who enjoyed loud music and big crowds. She knew for a fact that he was a shrewd, calculating man. So if going to the party wasn’t by chance… maybe Renata being there wasn’t an accident either.

  Naomi shook her head. Here she was again, trying to make sense of the things Damien Wolfe did. She’d discovered long ago that only he understood the methods behind his madness — and she had no doubts that there were methods. Even in the brutal murder of his own brother, Nelson, and the violation desecration of her mother, Noelle, Naomi could — albeit vaguely — see that perhaps Damien felt betrayed. He’d seen Noelle first, had pursued her first, maybe even… loved her first.

  But she chose Nelson.

  Naomi knew firsthand that love could make you do irrational things… but she somehow saw Damien as incapable of being ruled by emotion. Or maybe… emotion was the only thing that could make someone do such brutal things?

  Again, Naomi tried to shift her thoughts to something else. If she wanted to talk about logic, there was none in trying to rationalize Damien Wolfe. You didn’t try to humanize a person like that. You simply… took them down. And Naomi knew exactly how to do that.

  Diligence. Foc— who the fuck am I kidding?

  She’d dropped the ball on every part of her mantra, and the paper lying innocently folded in the passenger seat was proof of that. Just glancing at it made her heart drum out a staccato beat, so she focused on the road again.

  All she’d wanted to do was go to the doctor by herself. There was nothing wrong, just a routine visit she’d been putting off for months because of everything else. In her profession, her physical health was paramount, and with the beatings she’d put it through over the last few months, she knew it was time for a little checkup.

  She had the option of using a doctor provided by the FBI, but they were in her business enough as it was. Her doctor was very discreet. She didn’t know about Naomi’s skills or profession — hell, she didn’t even know her real name — but after assurance that Naomi wasn’t being abused by someone, she did her job and sent her on her way, sometimes with a prescription for this ache, or that pain, none of which Naomi ever actually took.

  Usually.

  This time, the old superstition of nothing being wrong until you got to the doctor had proven itself to be true, and Naomi… didn’t know how to process the news she’d received.

  When she pulled into the underground parking garage a few minutes later, she hadn’t come any closer to finding clarity, to grounding herself in reality. In the house, she skirted the areas where she heard voices, hoping to make it to her room unnoticed, but just as her hand touched the knob, she felt the familiar shift in energy that told her Marcus was close by.

  She closed her eyes as he approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

  “I was worried about you,” he muttered, drawing her close against him.

  Despite her silent, frantic pleas for her emotions to tuck themselves back in, tears welled in Naomi’s eyes. Behind her, Marcus must have noticed something was off, because he opened the door and pushed her in, closing it behind him.

  “What’s going on, Beautiful?”

  He tried to reach for her hand, but Naomi pulled away, shaking her head. She turned to the window, afraid of what would happen if she met those dark grey eyes. She’d already seen that they were filled with concern, and he hadn’t even heard her news yet. Emotionally, she and Marcus were already in strange, foreign territory — she didn’t really want to think about what this would do.

  But… it wasn’t like she could just ignore it, not when her health, and ability to perform her responsibilities for the team were compromised. Besides that, Naomi was also hesitant to keep any more important information from Marcus — not after what happened last time.

  Reluctantly, she turned to face him, giving him a weak smile in hopes of softening the hard expression he wore.

  “Naomi…”

  She expelled the air from her lungs in a huff, then pulled the folded paper from the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to him. He accepted the paper, eyeing her with suspicion as he opened it up. Naomi chewed nervously at her bottom lip as she waited for him to react.

  “Keeping yourself healthy until your next appointment… Naomi… what is this?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he turned his eyes back to the paper and kept reading. “Take naps… put your feet up… pass some household responsibilities to your partner. Eat small meals throughout the day… bland foods when you feel nauseous… be sure to take your pre—… be sure to take your prenatal vitamins,” — his eyes flicked up to Naomi’s face, then back to the paper again — “Your baby is due in approximately… 34 weeks”

  Slowly, he lowered the paper to his side, then met Naomi’s gaze. “Our… baby?” For a long moment, Marcus’s expression was completely blank, but then… a spark of excitement came into his eyes, and his mouth spread into a smile. “We’re having a baby?”

  “No,” Naomi said, sharply emphasizing the word. Was he crazy?! “Marcus, I… I can’t have a baby!” Shaking her head, she pushed her hair away from her face as she began pacing the room.

  “What do you mean you can’t have a baby?” Marcus gently grabbed her arm, stopping her stride as he held up the paper in front of her. “According to this, you’re pregnant, so apparently you can. So… are you saying you… won’t?”

  Pulling away, Naomi propped her hands on her hips. “I guess so. I just… I needed time to process this before I talked to the doctor about termination options.”

  “Termination options? Are you… are you fucking kidding right now, Naomi? You needed time to process before you discussed options? Not that you needed to talk to me about this shit, you needed time to process. Oh, okay.”

  “It’s my decision, Marcus! So yeah, I needed time to process.”

  Marcus narrowed his eyes. “So… the fact that it’s my baby too doesn’t matter?”

  “Oh, please,” Naomi scoffed. “Your ass wasn’t thinking about a baby with me, Marcus. We were too horny to use a condom, your pull-out game is wack, and we got caught up — that’s it. Besides… based on my calculations, this happened right before you told me you wished you’d left me sitting outside your apartment that night — remember?”

  “I thought we were past that, and don’t act like I didn’t have a reason to say that shit to you.”

  Naomi crossed her arms. “We are past it, and yes, you had a reason. My point is that it’s not like we’re some settled, established couple who’ve been talking about, and wanting a baby. This isn’t… right, Marcus. We can’t bring a child into this… bullshit that’s happening around us right now. I won’t.”

  “So… that’s just it?” Marcus asked, his shoulders sagging as he pushed his hands into his pockets. “We can’t even talk about this? I
mean… I get that the situation isn’t ideal, but come on… it doesn’t mean we can’t try to make it work.”

  “But… it does.” Naomi shook her head, shifting from her indignantly crossed arms to holding herself. “I want a family… more than anything. You know that. But… as long as Wolfe is alive and breathing… I can’t take that risk. Look what he’s done to Renata. Can you imagine if he found out I was pregnant? I have no idea what he would do, and I… I don’t wanna think about it, don’t even want to imagine.”

  She shied away as Marcus quickly crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, but he grabbed her anyway, drawing her close. Reluctantly, she relaxed into his embrace as he placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “What happens if you do this… And a week from now somebody puts a bullet through Wolfe’s head? What then?”

  Naomi squeezed her eyes shut as she buried her face in his shirt. She hadn’t even considered that yet, but then again… there was a lot she hadn’t considered. She was barely six weeks pregnant, and hadn’t even missed a period, which according to her doctor wasn’t abnormal. All she knew so far was that the thought of bringing a child into a world where that man still had blood pumping through his cold heart terrified her.

  Why he hadn’t bothered her over the years was a question for which Naomi had no answers. She did, however, know that the man was ruthless. And unpredictable. The actions against her mother, her father, his business rivals and associates, and now Renata, were all proof of that. In that video call, he’d mentioned letting nothing stand in the way of business or family — so what if she had this baby, and Wolfe felt somehow entitled to be in its life?