“Don’t you dare pretend you were trying to protect me!” Renata screamed, jabbing her gun at him with one hand. “If you wanted to protect me you wouldn’t have left me with a woman who made it her goal to make me miserable. A woman who kicked me out of the house you paid for, when I needed somebody most. Don’t you fucking dare talk about protecting me. He,” — she jabbed her finger in Quentin’s direction — “has protected me more than you ever have. I hate you.”
King shook his head, letting out a derisive laugh. “You hate me? You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me!”
“Ha! So what, I owe you something?” Renata giggled, covering her face with her hand, but keeping the gun pointed firmly in his direction. “No, motherfucker, cause guess what? I covered for your ass already. You owe me. While you were hiding, or whatever the fuck you were doing, your enemy was busy raping and impregnating your sixteen year old daughter. You’ve been living your life, getting married, having kids, trying to play philanthropist of the decade to buy your way into heaven, but guess what… it’s over for you. You’re done.”
Lifting an eyebrow, King lowered his hands. “What… what are you talking about? Raped you? Got your pregnant? What?”
“Yes, dear old dad. You heard me right. You were off, doing your absentee thing, after you screwed Wolfe out of that deal. He couldn’t find you, so he took his pound of flesh from me. So you may want to cool it with throwing around the fact that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I grew up with a mother who hated me, and never let me forget it, because of you. I was violated, had my childhood snatched from me, because of you. I’ve been mentally and emotionally tortured, because of you. Tied up and left hungry, because of you. My child is being kept from me, because of you. So don’t act like you deserve a fucking medal.”
“Renata, I didn’t know about any of that. You have to believe me.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Renata scoffed. “I just can’t believe you actually think that makes it any better. All of these resources… yet you couldn’t even be bothered to make sure my mother did right by me. You disgust me.”
“Tell me what I can do to make it up to you. Do you need money, do you—”
Renata threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t need anything from you. I have everything I need, no thanks to you. I don’t… I don’t even know why I came here. I guess I just wanted to tell you to your face that I think you are the scum of the fucking earth. And whenever you go to hell — because you will go to hell — I hope the devil does to you, what Wolfe did to me, and I hope you feel every single moment.”
“Now wait a minute, baby girl.” King moved quickly around the desk to approach Renata, but Quentin was quicker.
He had his gun drawn, finger on the trigger as he pointed it at King. “Back the fuck up. You can hear the lady talkin’ from where she is, bruh.”
“And who the fuck are you?” King asked, frowning at Quentin. “Her bodyguard or something?”
Quentin shrugged. “You could say that. Just don’t take another step.”
“It’s fine, Q,” Renata chimed in, lowering her gun and returning it to it’s place at her waist as she pulled out her phone. “I’m done here. We can go.” She started toward the door, then turned around, walking until she was right in King’s face. “You know… I was going to wait until I was outside of your office to do this, and let it be a surprise, but I think I want to say this to your face. Wolfe is forcing me to take your business down, if I want to see my daughter again, but really… I wish he’d just told me who you were. Told me that your kids were pushing Benzes for their sixteenth birthdays, while I had to literally beg for a computer. You know… I’d invented a story about you, that I told myself in order to make your absence okay. In my head… you were a hero. A fallen hero, a war vet, something like that. Something strong. Something honorable. You had some important, noble reason to not be in my life. But I find out now, that while I was daydreaming about my hero father, you were somewhere living in luxury without me, and you didn’t even care to try to change my circumstances. If he’d just told me that… I would have destroyed this business in a heartbeat. But… better late than never.”
Renata turned her eyes to her phone, tapping away at the screen, and King’s eyes went wide in alarm. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Oh, just sending a little juicy info — the recording of you bribing FDA officials, along with incriminating emails, other audio recordings, trade secrets, that sort of thing — to all of your competitors, the office that handles your government contracts, every major news network, and every online news outlet in the world. Nothing much.”
With a grunt of rage, King dove at her, grabbing for the phone, but Quentin caught him with a swift hook to the jaw, followed by two blows to the stomach. King dropped to the ground, and Quentin snatched him up by the collar, pushing him into his desk.
“What the fuck were you about to do, huh? Put your hands on her? You don’t think you’ve done enough?”
“Baby girl, I’m sorry!” King choked out, struggling against Quentin’s hold. “Please don’t do this. I swear to you, I didn’t know you weren’t being taken of. I left to protect you, I swea—”
“Save it.” Renata shook her head. “It’s already done.”
King stared at her for a long moment before his nostrils flared, then he lunged at her again, trying to escape Quentin’s hold. “You stupid little girl. Do you have any idea what—” his words were lost as Quentin aimed another blow at the side of his head, knocking him out. If he could help it, he wasn’t about to stand by and let Renata be subjected to that sonofabitch’s harsh words.
“We’ve gotta get outta here , chérie,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Once he wakes up, everything is gonna go nuts.”
Absently, Renata nodded, and Quentin wondered briefly about her emotional state. He could take care of her once they were home, but right now, they just needed to get out of the building. He strongly suspected that security was waiting on the other side of the door that led to the reception area, waiting for any type of signal from King that something was amiss.
But… he knew from the building plans that King had a private elevator that would put them right in the parking garage. He tugged Renata’s hand, leading her to the elevator, then used the portable lock scrambler he kept attached to his keys to access the elevator.
King’s office was on the eighth floor — the top floor — and they needed to get to level B1. Quentin was getting excited as the floors counted down with no interruption… until it stopped on level two, with no explanation. He raised his gun as they came to a complete stop, easing Renata behind him. As soon as the doors opened, he quickly picked off a first, second, and third security guard, putting bullets through their legs before they could do whatever they’d been assigned to do to him and Renata with the automatic weapons in their hands.
He grabbed her hand, leading her to the stairwell as quickly as he could pull her. Gunfire rang over their heads just as he pushed her through the door into the parking garage in the basement. They made it quickly to their vehicle, and Quentin wasted no time getting them out of the lot, avoiding the armed guards that tried to stop them on their way. In the armored SUV they’d borrowed from Inez’s collection, they blew right through the gate to get off the premises, then quickly navigated onto the highway with traffic.
It wasn’t until they pulled back into Inez’s garage that Quentin felt like it was safe to take a deep breath again. He looked to Renata, who’d been quiet the whole ride, and moved robotically to take off her seatbelt and climb out of the car.
He followed her into the house, where they were immediately bombarded with questions from the rest of the team, who’d apparently seen the news. Renata simply kept walking, heading up the stairs — presumably to her room — and Quentin stayed behind giving the team the quickest possible summary of what had happened in the last few hours.
Apparently, the internet was already going nuts with the
information Renata had leaked. It was already going viral there, and television news was slowly catching up. SSA Barnes was especially unhappy with the impromptu reveal, but he had more important things to tend to than fussing at them. He had to get warrants granted, set up tactical teams for raids, and prepare to actually take Terry King down.
When they finally let Quentin out of the war room, he immediately went for the stairs, trying to get to Renata. Terry King was finally going down, and at a time she should have been able to be happy, since this was what they’d been working toward for months, to get her daughter back — she was taking yet another emotional beating.
He found her in the shower, letting the water stream over her face. He undressed, then silently joined her, holding her until the water ran cold. When they got out, he dried her off, lotioned her skin, then helped her dress in clothes for bed. He dressed himself in shorts and a tee shirt, then climbed into bed with her, holding her again until the fading daylight turned to dusk.
The entire time, she’d said nothing, simply submitted to being taken care of. But suddenly, she turned to him in the dark. “I don’t understand… why he wouldn’t have come back for me. Why he wouldn’t have taken care of me. Wouldn’t even come and see me. Why he still doesn’t even see me now.”
“Fuck him,” Quentin said, holding her close. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It doesn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter?” Even in the dark, Quentin could tell she was looking at him. “He’s my father. The one man I should always be able to count on to protect me, and care about me.”
“It doesn’t matter because fuck him. He don’t deserve your tears, or your energy. He didn’t want to know you… fine. Ren… you’re amazing, bien-aimé. That’s his loss. I protected you then, I’ll protect you now. I cared about you then, I’ll care about you now. I saw you then, baby. And I see you now. You don’t need him. He doesn’t deserve you.”
Renata said nothing in reply to his words, but Quentin hoped like hell that she’d heard him. Even if King hadn’t known what was happening with Renata, that didn’t make it okay. He should have known.
“I love you, Renata,” he said, because he meant it, and just because he felt like she needed to hear it. “If I can do anything for you… baby, just let me know.”
She nodded, then buried her face in his neck as she snuggled close. “I love you too,” she mumbled, her words muffled against his skin.
Quentin wrapped an arm around her, gently stroking her back. After a while, a change in her breathing pattern let him know she was asleep, and he hoped she would stay that way until morning. Morning would bring big, happy news, if Wolfe stuck to his word, which Quentin desperately hoped he would.
Morning would bring Taylor back.
sixteen.
“So I heard you’ve been running around threatening to bust caps in people, huh?”
Renata looked up from the spoon she’d been absently swirling in her coffee to see Marcus approaching her, with a paper bag from her favorite local donut shop in hand. She was outside, on the screened porch that had served as the setting for one of the best memories of her life — that beautiful first time with Quentin.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t sitting out there to reminisce. She was out there searching for a reprieve from the constant barrage of negative thoughts in her head. She’d hoped that being out here, in this place with good energy, would help. And… it did, just not as much as she would have hoped.
Marcus sat beside her, extending the bag. Once she’d taken one, he tossed the closed bag onto the seat beside him, then pulled her into an embrace. “How are you feeling?” he asked, kissing the top of her head before he let her go.
Renata shook her head, then shrugged. “I… don’t know how to put it into words. Quentin keeps trying to convince me that I shouldn’t care about Terry King, but… he grew up with parents who loved him. He wasn’t really close to his dad, because he was always traveling, doing stuff for Wolfe, but… he at least had a mom who adored him. A grandmother who was gentle, but strong, and tried to keep him in line. He got parental love, even though he was young when his parents died. I didn’t get it from anyone. Hell, it wasn’t until I met Q that I really, genuinely felt that somebody loved me. I held on to that fantasy that if my father was alive, if he knew about me… he would have loved me. He would have told me I was beautiful, and taught me to drive, and… given me my first flowers. You know? Quentin doesn’t seem to get that I can’t just… let that go.”
“He gets it,” Marcus said, chuckling as he sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “He just… he sees you hurting, and he wants it to stop. Homeboy has been working hard to get you into — and keep you in — a good place. Finding out about Terry King, and the entire, convoluted way all of this shit connects… it’s just more stuff piling on. Nobody wants to see the woman they love going through shit like this.”
Nodding, Renata leaned to the side, gently bumping Marcus’s shoulder with hers. “Speaking from experience, huh?”
“Yessir,” Marcus said, massaging the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying my best to get Naomi to chill. I mean… she’s pregnant.” He stopped for a second, then looked up at Renata. “She’s taking vitamins, and we’re doing doctor’s appointments. Her body is changing. She’s starting to show, just a little bit, and it’s… kinda fucking amazing to see, from day to day, you know?”
Renata nodded, then couldn’t help grinning at the smile on Marcus’s face. That was how a man was supposed to feel about his pregnant partner. Like what was happening to her was amazing. Like she was amazing, and he wanted to be a part of the process. For a moment, the heat of jealousy burned her cheeks, and then she remembered that her experience compared to Naomi’s were total opposites. Naomi and Marcus had conceived a child with an act of love. Her child had been conceived from hate.
All the more reason to love the hell out of Taylor, and despise Wolfe and King.
“Man,” Marcus said, with a heavy sigh that took away his smile. “Even with all the happy things because of the baby, she’s obsessed with this thought of her mother being alive. She’s been talking about getting in touch with Harrison’s bitch ass. I guess she thinks she’ll have better luck with him, as if he’s not cut from the same evil as Wolfe.”
Shaking her head, Renata met Marcus’s gaze. “He’s not. Harrison runs my nerves in the ground, but… he’s not the same as Wolfe. He works for Wolfe, but he’s not the same.”
Marcus lifted an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“Well… a long time ago… maybe ten years, when Taylor was four or five, I tried to run away. I set up fake identities for both of us, and I ran. Wolfe kept calling, looking for me — I knew because I had the messages forwarded to an untraceable number. It wasn’t the first time I’d run, but he always found me within a few days. Not this time. For a good… month or two, I was free. I was happy. And then one day, I opened the door to leave for work, take Taylor to daycare, and Wolfe was on my doorstep. He asked me why I was keeping his daughter from him, and when I didn’t answer quickly enough, he just… hit me. I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was tied so tight that the ropes cut my ankles and wrists. I still have scars,” she said, holding her arm out for Marcus to see.
With a heavy sigh, she continued. “For two days, I screamed and cried, for anybody to help me, and nobody came. I thought I was gonna die. But then… Harrison came. He didn’t have the bravado then that he does now. Wasn’t nearly as high on the food chain, so he didn’t have any leeway with Wolfe. And honestly he seemed kinda scared. But he untied me, gave me water, fed me, bathed me, because I was too weak to do it myself. And he was never inappropriate about it. I actually felt really safe. And then… Wolfe showed up, and he was… furious. I’ve never seen him so enraged. He snatched Harrison up, threw him into this glass cabinet thing that I had, where I kept all of Taylor’s little awards and trinkets and crafts from school.
I… thought he was gonna die. Wolfe stood over hi
m, saying all kinds of slick shit about him being a bitch like his dad, and just… talking crazy. He expected Harrison to cower, or beg, but he didn’t. Harrison got up, and he… squared up. I thought he was nuts. Glass sticking out of your back, and you think you’re about to box Damien Wolfe? But… he stood there and told Wolfe he was dead-ass wrong for what he’d done to me, and he wasn’t just gonna stand by and watch. He told Wolfe he didn’t get down like that. I was like… twenty. I think Harrison was maybe twenty-five, twenty-six? But… in any case, I was sure I was about to witness a murder, but.. Wolfe smiled. Told him he was proud of him. Said the men twice his age didn’t have enough heart to stand up to him, but… Harrison did.
When I saw him the next day, I guess he’d gotten stitched up, and promoted, because instead of his usual hustler gear… he was wearing a designer suit when he brought Taylor back.”
Reluctantly, Marcus nodded. “So maybe not all bad. Just annoying as fuck.”
“Maybe not. I’m just wondering if he’s gonna be the one to bring her back this time.”
Renata smiled, thinking about seeing Taylor’s face, in person, for the first time in months. She wanted to call Wolfe now, but she was trying to wait. The last thing she wanted to do was call too early, or seem too eager, or get on his nerves, or give him any arbitrary reason to go back on his promise. She’d thought long and hard about the complications of pulling Taylor out of school once the semester was already started, and decided she didn’t give a shit. Taylor would get over it — she’d be going back to the friends she already knew anyway. Getting her away from Wolfe was much more important.
“Have you talked to Wolfe yet?”
“Not yet. Trying to be patient, but…God, I’m so excited! We’re going to pick a new apartment together, and she’ll get to redecorate her room, and… it should be fun. I have to make it fun for her, so she doesn’t hate me for making her come back.”
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