She explained the entire nightmarish events of that evening, starting with Darren and her lying in the moonlight on the back porch, then the phone call.
Sean and Ryan glanced at each other, each with a raised eyebrow.
"Wait," Ryan interrupted. "Some guy that bought a house from you calls you randomly to tell you that you needed to get to your husband's bar? And you didn't question it?"
She went to reply but clamped her mouth shut. Opened her mouth, shut it again. She sunk back farther into the sofa. "No, his call was cryptic and it sounded as if he knew where Darren was and that something was wrong. I didn't question it at all. I was too worried and frightened."
"How did you meet this guy?" Sean asked.
She explained how she met John, though she didn't see a problem. It wasn't unusual for her to pick up clients randomly from overheard conversations.
Sean and Ryan shot one another a glance again, along with that damn silent conversation thing they did between each other. She hated it. They’d done that since they were young.
"Go on," Ryan ordered.
She relived the entire humiliating ordeal aloud. A pain developed in her chest over the memory now permanently burned into her. She unconsciously placed her hand between her breasts to take the pain away. Ryan grabbed her hand and squeezed in support.
"Your blood pressure." Sean scowled. "Did Darren try to explain himself?" he asked.
"He said there was an explanation, but I was too worked up. I was screaming and yelling. I hit him,” she said.
Ryan snorted. "And you haven't talked to Darren since?" he asked.
"No, I can’t right now. I need time, Ryan. This is a nightmare." Tears swelled in her eyes. "Derrick said there's an explanation for all of this. That it isn't Darren's fault, but I don't want to hear the excuses they came up with."
Courtney watched Ryan study her. His knowing, perceptive eyes delving deeper. "Courtney, we know about your husband. Hell, everyone knows about Darren Murphy. He's the head crime boss in the Northeast. I'm positive he has an entire, separate life you know nothing about. He's kept you sheltered from that part of his world, right? But from all the intel we’ve gathered, he’s totally in love with you."
Sean nodded and ran a hand through his longish blond hair. A habit when he was frustrated.
"Your parents told me how Darren wouldn't leave the hospital even though you refused to see him. A man who has a mistress wouldn't be holed up in the hospital, hoping you’ll change your mind. He would go home, get sleep, and visit the woman he’s having the affair with, then come back to the hospital and try to see you again," Ryan bluntly explained.
She gasped.
"Hey, just telling you how men are, sweetie." He held up his hands defensively.
"Ryan's right, honey. From everything we've been told by anyone we've asked, Darren is obsessively in love with you,” Sean agreed. He stood up straight, pushing off the frame. "Everyone I speak with says the same thing‒Darren's head over heels infatuated with his gorgeous wife. Of course, then they push it by going on about the hot Courtney Murphy and piss me off to the point where I have to hold back from throwing punches."
"Man, that's annoying. The same thing happens to me." Ryan rolled his eyes and snickered. "It sucks having a bombshell of a cousin that I have to defend."
"Oh, yeah, it's soooo hard," she said.
Both men laughed.
“Court, you married a crime boss. There are certain aspects of his life that you're going to have to come to grips with, for both of your sakes,” Ryan said.
"Honey, you should talk to your husband. At least get his side of the story. Your eyes could have been deceiving you. I would hate to see your marriage end over a misunderstanding. Haven't you lost so much already?" Sean asked.
She broke down into a sob and buried her head into her hands. "I never wanted the baby in the first place, but once Darren convinced me to have the child, I couldn't wait to have a baby that held a part of Darren and a part me."
In a flash, her cousins knelt down on the floor beside her.
"Calm down, Court. You can't get upset, take it easy,” Sean insisted.
"Deep breaths,” Ryan demanded.
It made sense she needed to come to terms with her marriage and the loss of her baby at some point. But at the moment, she was too damn tired to deal with anything.
****
Darren
Seated on the back deck of his home, Darren drowned himself in tequila. It had been a damn long time since he decided to get piss drunk. His world was falling apart. The FBI was on his shit, his wife left him by sneaking from the hospital, and he lost his son. Yeah, things were pretty fucking bad.
The sliding glass door opened and Derrick stepped outside. "If you're getting drunk then I'm joining you."
Darren poured his brother a shot and himself another. They both held up their glasses and downed the tequila as if it was water.
"She'll come back," Derrick said.
I don't think so."
"Have you found out where she went?"
"No," he snorted. "Can you believe it? My wife managed to sneak out from under my nose. Me of all people."
Derrick snorted as well. "Got to give her some credit."
"Oh, I do." He poured them both another shot.
Jack joined them on the deck. "We have Jamie. She's back at her place. You want to visit?"
"Come up with a plan where she isn’t being watched,” Darren snapped.
"Yes, Boss,” Jack said. He turned and left Darren alone with his brother.
"Jamie?" Derrick asked.
"The agent bitch that has ended my marriage,” Darren snarled.
Derrick held up his hands. "Don't say another word to me."
***
Three days later, Darren met Jamie for lunch at his bar. For days he had the bar under constant surveillance and protection to set up their rendezvous. He decided on lunchtime. Murphy's was never busy that time of day.
Stewing in a far corner booth for the bitch to arrive, Darren understood he needed to perform the best acting job of his life. His first instinct was to kill this woman on the spot. It took every ounce of willpower not to take out his pistol and place it on the table to scare the shit of her.
Jack and Carl conveniently placed themselves at the bar while two men, Smith and Derk, sat in the next booth over. The parking lot was also littered with his men.
Jamie sauntered into the bar at precisely twelve-thirty, looking bright in a barely contained pink sundress that screamed fuck me. She beamed when she saw Darren, who stood with clenched fists. He tried to maintain control and plastered a smile across his face.
She rushed towards him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard on the lips. He literally forced a returned kiss. In that gesture, he broke his wedding vows. Even though it was only a kiss, it was more than enough for him. Particularly after all that had happened. He put himself into Courtney’s shoes. If she kissed another man it would more than devastate him. He'd have to kill something. Or someone.
Jamie pulled away. "I'm so sorry about getting caught by your wife, Darren. How is she?"
He motioned for her to sit. When she slid into the booth, she made a show of pushing her curvaceous ass into the air. The woman made him sick. Courtney would never act that way. His wife was too high class for such obnoxious behavior. He forced himself to slide in beside her.
"She's doing better," he answered. He needed to act as if he knew about his wife's condition. "Though she still has a long recovery."
"That's too bad. I hope she feels better," Jamie said, astoundingly, sounding remorseful. "From working your case, I know how much of a great person she is. She's also quite beautiful. All the men at the agency think she’s gorgeous. I think they’re all smitten." She snorted unattractively.
Darren stiffened. So the agency assholes have a thing for his wife? Well, how very high-school-crush of them. Bastards.
"Well, I can't disagree with them. Wou
ld you like something to drink?" he asked.
"Sure, I'll take a beer," she said.
He motioned to Jack, who retrieved Jamie a bottle of beer and brought Darren a bottle of water.
"Aren't you drinking?" she asked.
"No, I've been on a sort of bender for the past few days," he said.
Jamie took a long swig of her beer and peeled at the label.
"So, before my wife rudely interrupted us a couple weeks ago, you told me you were willing to leave the agency to become my mistress. Does that offer still stand?" he asked, turning on the charm. He became the old Darren Murphy. The man that women would drop their panties for in the past. He wrapped his arm around the back of the booth to make her feel more relaxed.
"You would like to have me?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. He reached down and stroked her bare shoulder. "You're attractive, fun, and I can relax when I'm with you."
"Are you going to leave your wife?"
"No," he said incisively and raised an eyebrow. "You know that can't happen. You're a smart woman and know why. I can offer you great sex, money, and the title of my mistress. You'll keep me company on nights when my wife is staying in for the night, and you'll be at my beck and call, day or night. That's what I can offer you."
Her body sagged. "But I want more."
"I can't give you more, Jamie. You know the business I'm in. You know my wife stays for appearance purposes. She's well loved and known by the people in my circle. If I divorce her, I lose too much," he explained. How he despised the words that just spewed from his mouth. Words that would never ring true. Ever. Courtney would never be reduced to a figurehead. That was unthinkable in his eyes. And to take a mistress? Sacrilege.
"I know," she relented.
"Jamie," he continued, "I've never offered this to any woman before. You're the first." He continued the build up.
She smiled. "I like that."
Got her. "It's true."
"I know."
Of course she would know. She knew far too much about him.
"What will it be, Jamie? I'll treat you good. I promise you'll get everything you deserve," he pushed harder.
She looked up from the beer, and he knew he had her by the decisiveness evident in her eyes.
"Okay," she replied.
His lips twitched. "Good girl," he said. "Finish your beer. We're going to find a place for you to live where I can visit when I want."
"I have an apartment," she bristled.
"An apartment that is under FBI watch. I don't think so, honey," he said firmly, not to be argued. "Also, we need to discuss your job situation. What are your plans? Do you plan to work both sides, because I'm going to tell you right now I'm not happy about that. I don't want my mistress investigating me."
"No, no, Darren. I would never. I'll quit if you want me to. I agree." Her desperation to give him what he wanted was sickeningly obvious.
Unable to help himself, he compared Jamie to his Courtney. His wife wouldn't give herself up that freely.
"Good, so now that you're my girl, what do they have on me and what do they know?" he demanded.
She hesitated just long enough to know a warning bell dinged in her head. He tried to negate it. "I don't want you to be put into an awful situation where you have to choose between me and the government, baby. You know very well how they work, and what will happen to you. I don't want that for you. I don't want that for anyone close to me,” he said.
Her shoulders visibly lost their tension and she unclenched her jaw. "They don't have anything. They're trying different angles to get something. They came up with a plan to try to get to your wife. They thought she was your weakness. They knew you didn't have a mistress to turn."
He laughed evilly. "Little do they know."
Jamie smiled. "Right."
"Well, honey, let's get out of here," he said. He was done. He had all the information he needed. The FBI didn’t have shit on him, and their plan to turn Courtney failed. Yes, it cost him everything, but they played their card and lost. Heads would now roll, starting with the woman next to him. He slid out of the booth.
"Okay," Jamie said, her face flushed.
He held out his hand for her to take. Arm in arm, they left the bar. Smith and Derk climbed from their booth and followed behind. They all climbed into a waiting dark tinted window sedan. That would be the last time anyone saw or heard from Jamie, the rouge agent.
Chapter 11
Courtney
For three weeks Courtney had been living at her cousins' house. They managed to settle into a normal, daily routine with the two men doting on her. Though her presence managed to put a cramp on their lifestyle of bringing women home for midnight trysts, they never complained. They loved coming home from work to a smiling, warm female face. Sean cooked for the three of them, Ryan made sure Courtney took her meds, and they both took turns escorting her to doctors’ appointments. Sean started Courtney on a walking program to get her back into shape. Unfortunately she had to start slow and afterwards always needed a nap. As the weeks wore on her endurance rapidly grew. They watched over her like two protective Pitbulls, ready to go for a throat if anyone looked at her cross-eyed.
The downside of living with Sean and Ryan was Courtney often became lonely while they worked. Their long twelve or fourteen hour shifts left her alone with her wayward thoughts for endless hours. She refused to see her parents or her friends, aware they would be followed by Darren's men to find her. Instead she made contact by phone. No one pressed for her location knowing Courtney wouldn't divulge.
Bored all day, Courtney continuously paced the modern decorated living room. Sean and Ryan weren't expected home until later in the evening, leaving her alone once again. While she readjusted a few knick-knacks for the umpteenth millionth time, she found herself missing her husband. She wanted to speak to him, but was unsure if she was in the right frame of mind to have a long conversation. What she was positive of was that she missed him holding her at night. She missed his soft lips on her skin. His sense of humor. She missed the adoring way he looked at her and the way he doted on her. Hell, she missed his overprotective nature. She missed watching him cook while they discussed their day and plans for the week. She just plain missed him. But could she forgive him?
Her brooding was rudely interrupted by the doorbell. She glanced at the clock. Noon. Who the hell could that be? She wasn't expecting anyone. What if it was Darren? She wasn’t ready to face him or any of his men if they found her. Well, maybe she would talk to Derrick.
Tiptoeing to the front door, she prayed her flats didn’t give away her presence. She glanced through the peep hole and blanched. Anger boiled up in her stomach. Throwing the door open, John Marshall, with a dozen red roses in hand, was scanning the exterior house.
"Courtney." He beamed. "You look terrific."
"John? What the hell are you doing here?" she blurted. Looking past him, she surveyed their surroundings.
His smile fell. "I'm sorry. You aren't up for visitors."
"Come in," she snapped. She ushered him into the house and closed the door behind him. Why was he here? Maybe Darren sent John. Maybe he was here on his own. Was she being set up?
Courtney turned to catch John scanning the interior of the home. Those quick eye movements were of someone who rapidly took in his environment. Sean and Ryan constantly did the same thing.
She alertly watched John finish scrutinizing his surroundings. When done, he refocused on Courtney, his features changing to pure delight.
"For you." He handed her the roses.
"Thank you," she said curtly. "Follow me. I'll put them in a vase."
Just as they started down the hallway, the front door to the house flew open and Ryan stepped inside. He stopped at the sight of his cousin with a man he'd never seen before.
"Courtney?" he asked, changing from NICU nurse to G.I. Joe in the blink of an eye.
"This is John Marshall, Ryan." Courtney motioned to John. "John, t
his is my cousin Ryan."
Ryan glowered and glanced at the roses.
"I was about to put these in a vase," she said. A small jerk of her head hinted she wanted her cousin to follow. "What are you doing home?" she asked, making her way to the kitchen with both men in tow.
"I came home for lunch to check on you." He glared John's direction.
"I'm good," she said, busying herself with the flowers.
"How do you know Courtney?" Ryan turned to their uninvited guest.
"I bought a home off her. We met at happy hour one evening," John explained.
Courtney tried to pretend she wasn't paying attention. Her cousin would remember her conversation about her former client.
"Oh, interesting." Ryan eyed him. "And how did you find out she was here?" he asked, his face a mask of barely contained fury.
"I asked some of the nurses at the hospital. They were kind enough to help me," John answered.
She flinched. The man was lying. There was no way the nurses told John, who was of no relation to Courtney, where she was staying. If the hospital refused to tell her mafia husband of her whereabouts, then they unquestionably weren't about to tell this guy unless he had some pull.
Ryan shot her a side-glance. Man, he was pissed.
"What do you do for a living, John?" Ryan asked, his hands clenched into tight fists.
"I work in finances. Selling stocks, bonds, 401K's,” John answered.
"Well, John, why are you here?" she asked. She needed to grab control of this conversation before her cousin went upstairs, grabbed his Glock, and came back down to put a bullet in John's head.
"I wanted to check on you and see how you were doing. I feel so awful about that entire night, Court," John said.
Briefly she believed his sincerity.
She held up her hand. "Don't, I'm not ready to talk about it."
"Court?" Ryan snapped.
Good lord, her cousin was flipping his shit.
Ryan's cell phone rang and interrupted the palpable tension. He pulled it out of his scrubs pocket and looked at the caller ID.
"I have to take this," he growled, then stalked out of the kitchen for privacy.
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