Over their shoulder, Gabe saw Steve Richards enter the living room. Steve was the Black Raven physician, who had done a preliminary exam on Andi when she’d been unconscious. “Doctor’s here.”
Breaking from the hug, Andi took Pic by the hand and sat with him on the couch. “Pic, we need to let Doctor Richards look at you.”
“Not no, but fuck no. My clothes are staying on, and no one’s goddamn touching me at this place. Or anywhere else.”
Gabe thought through what he should do. “What do you say I let you hitch a ride via helicopter right now with Andi and me? We go back to Andi’s place, and you agree to live in her townhouse for the foreseeable future.”
He rubbed the tears from his eyes, his attention on Andi. “You still want me there?”
“Of course,” Andi said.
“Because I kept thinking I’d blown the only chance I was ever going to get.”
“But Andi and I agree that you have to let Doctor McCaskey examine you this evening.” Gabe glanced at Andi, who nodded as he spoke. “And you have to take his advice on what you need to do.”
“Like what?”
“Whatever he says, including talking about what happened here with someone equipped to help you.”
Pic frowned, but the scared look in his eyes told Gabe he was going to agree. The scared look also told Gabe the kid was so rattled by whatever the hell had happened to him since he’d been abducted that he was relieved that Gabe was laying down rules.
When Pic hesitated, Gabe said, “The only way I can get you out of here is to have you released into McCaskey’s care. Come on, Pic. He helped you when he examined you earlier this week. He’ll meet us at Andi’s. Otherwise, I’ve got to let the doctors here examine you, and you may be here for a while. They’re implementing procedures—”
“Okay. I’ll go. But first I need to know something.” Despite the fear that haunted his eyes, bravado slipped into Pic’s voice. “What I want to know, is whether Richie set me up. Because none of what I know makes goddamn sense. It was too goddamn convenient for those guys to find me. Besides, I was dressed like Richie. So how’d they know it was me?”
“You guessed correctly. Richie set you up. He’s been working for the Concierge.”
“And what the fuck, exactly, is that?”
Andi gripped Pic’s hand, as Gabe gave the kid the same nutshell version he’d given Andi regarding the Concierge’s operations. “Richie did some talking this afternoon once he realized we were onto him. He’s been working for the Longs for years. Feeding them information on vulnerable street kids and passing along news about Andi, because Sonja Long was obsessed with her. A stalker from hell.”
“But Richie was a good guy. He was worried about Jake.”
“Yeah. That was clever on his part. But the reason he talked to me about Jake, or to anyone, really, is because someone else saw him in the vicinity when Jake was kidnapped. Some guy named Shroom, who we’re still looking for. To keep his cover, Richie had to act like he cared that Jake was snatched. And he was goddamn convincing. Until a few hours ago.”
“Monica?” Pic’s voice was so hopeful, it dug into Gabe’s gut.
Gabe nodded. “Rescuers are on their way now to bring her back home.”
A fresh tear dripped down the kid’s cheek. Gabe decided to go all the way. With the two of them on the couch, Gabe got down on one knee to keep from towering over them. Andi reached out for his hand, while Pic had a fresh look of concern on his face.
“I have some other news. I know it’s a lot to absorb all at once, but there’s a chopper waiting for us right now. Pic, I want you to know that when you walk off this farm, your life’s starting over. You’re not only leaving this hell, but your own personal hell is over. A few moments ago, I received news that Clarence Walker of Mapleton, West Virginia, killed himself at some point throughout the night. He left a note seeking forgiveness for some of his more heinous acts. One of which was killing your mother. You’re free to be yourself, Lucas Tanner McShane. Whoever it is that you want to become. And Andi and I are going to help you.”
The look of wild hope in Pic’s eyes, coupled with the surprise in Andi’s, as they absorbed the news that Gabe had delivered, made every step that Gabe had taken on the side of darkness worth the effort.
He focused his gaze on Pic, reached out, and rested his hand on his shoulder. He felt the kid start trembling, and he leaned closer, willing Pic his strength.
For a few seconds, Gabe did nothing but breathe in the pure, unadulterated wonder that oozed from the kid, reveling in it. Because for all the darkness that Gabe carried with him, every moment, every day, for all the real-life horrors that he’d found a goddamn way to smile through, there was no reward greater than seeing the stunned look of someone who, for perhaps the first time in his life, had fate take a winding, decisive twist in his favor.
Chapter Fifty
Gabe
After their second shower since returning home, Gabe toweled beads of moisture off of Andi. Swishing most of the water off of him, he wrapped her tight in a fresh towel, then sat on the vanity stool. Grabbing her hand when she would have walked out of the bathroom, he pulled her to him so that she sat on his lap. He picked up his mic and slipped it into his ear. “Marks. Status?”
“Pic’s sound asleep in the guesthouse. Snoring. Lots of people roaming the sidewalks, considering it’s three in the morning. Otherwise, nothing.”
“Good. Alert me if anything changes.” He slipped out the mic, set it on the vanity, next to the box of condoms he’d brought into the room earlier.
Andi, eyes questioning, didn’t have to ask. “He’s asleep.”
Inhaling her fresh fragrance and warmth, he got an eyeful of the profile of the two of them in the mirrors that surrounded her vanity area. He turned the stool sideways so they’d both have a view. “Well, Sandy, this is a way we haven’t done it, yet.”
“Haven’t you had enough for one evening?” She leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, “Brad.”
In answer, he let his towel fall away, slipped on another condom, and lifted her. He undid the semi-knot he’d just tied on her towel, and let it fall to the floor, as well. As she spread her legs, draping them over the stool and his hips, he centered her on him and pushed home.
“Oh,” she moaned. “God. You’re insatiable.”
“That a problem?”
Her body answered with a mind-blowing ‘no’ as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and moved her hips to meet his thrusts. After, he carried her to bed, pulled the covers over both of them, and realized he couldn’t wait till morning. He wouldn’t sleep, not without having the conversation he knew they needed to have.
In the soft lamplight, he turned to his side. She did the same. Head propped on one elbow, with the fingers of his other hand tracing a line along her jawline, he said, “Do you forgive me for reading your journals?”
Her face turned serious. “Right now, I think I’d forgive you for just about anything.”
“I really am sorry. And I won’t overstep again. I promise. But I’m still glad that I did. Don’t you think you might benefit from talking some of that out with someone?”
She gave him a hesitant nod. “Maybe.”
“Well, you agree Pic needs help, right?”
“Of course. And I’ll help him get it.”
“And we also need to talk about that thing you were saying about wanting me to leave after I found Pic. Your idea about you, and your fears, draining all the light from me.”
“I’m still worried about that, but—”
He touched his finger to her lip, interrupting her. “I have to tell you something. I’ve never admitted this to anyone before. It’s about my smile.”
“I think I know what you’re going to say.”
“I’m not always as my smile makes me appear.”
Her eyes were serious as she weighed his words. “You’re smiling now.”
“Of course I am. I’m in bed with you. I
’d be a fool not to be happy, even though I’m laying my heart on the line.”
“I misunderstood you. That smile blinded me. Such effusive warmth. You ooze it. But now, I think you smile to light the darkness that you see. Everywhere. In other people’s battles. In their eyes. In their hearts. In the way they carry themselves. You see it, and you smile through it. Why?”
He drew a deep breath. “I told you I learned to smile for my mom after my father was murdered, didn’t I?”
She nodded.
“I wasn’t smiling because I was happy,” he said, toying with her hair. “I learned all kinds of things when my father died. Like how to be the glue that can keep a family together. How to anticipate needs of others. Back then, it was my mom and my brother. Now, it’s my clients. I show them how to have faith that things will work out. How to make things work out. Along the way, I learned that no matter what crap life is throwing at you, a simple thing like a smile usually makes people feel better. If they want to be better. Believe me, with some people, my smile doesn’t do a goddamn thing to help.” He looked in her eyes. “It only works magic when people want it to. And you wanted it to.”
“But you don’t just smile. You take action.”
“I try.”
“Like Clarence Walker? His suicide seems too coincidental.”
He inwardly cringed. “You realize that going forward, I’m never going to lie, or give you less than I know. Honesty needs to be a two-way street between us. Understand that?”
She nodded.
“So if you don’t want to know the details, if they’re too much for you, just tell me to sanitize it. I’m treating you as my equal, okay?
“Go on.”
“Walker was a predator, of the highest order. I can show you the interview that Lamonte conducted with him.”
“But why would he confess?”
“We have ways.”
A frown furrowed her brow. “Ways? As in torture?”
“Sometimes. And serums that help with truthfulness.”
“Show me the interview.”
He picked up his cell phone from the night table. Found the file. With his heart beating hard, he played it for Andi. Five minutes in, after Walker, red-cheeked and sweating, named some of the boys with whom he’d had sex, including Lucas McShane, and explained how he’d used his billy club on the back of Aubrey Rose’s head as she argued with Lucas, Andi glanced at him, her eyes wide.
“It gets uglier from here,” Gabe warned.
“I’ve had enough. Just tell me why he killed her.”
He switched off the video. “Walker knew it was only a matter of time before she turned on him. While she was originally shocked at the news at what he’d done to Pic, he knew she’d ultimately believe her son. When Pic ran out of the trailer, Clarence let him go, then framed him for the murder. He called it a win-win. After he explained what happened to her, Lamonte asked him questions about the boy he had identified, the duration of the abuse, stuff like that. You don’t want to know more details, do you?”
She shook her head. “After he confessed, did he really kill himself, or did Lamonte kill him and make it look like suicide? Because what I’m trying to figure out is, what, exactly, you guys do. What you do.”
I perfectly understand.
“It’s complicated.”
“Un-complicate it for me. Answer my question.”
“Lamonte says he killed himself after writing the note.”
With her gaze intent on him, she searched his face. The set of his lips. His eyes. “And you believe her?”
He nodded. “I don’t second guess a field agent. If she says he killed himself, then he did.”
Though she sure as hell might have persuaded him to do it. And I can think of quite a few ways I’d have persuaded the monster to off himself. I’m not going to lie to you, but please, Andi, stop asking questions.
As she sat with her legs drawn up, and the soft covers flowing over her, he waited for her to tell him his fate. She rested her elbows on her knees, and cupped her face in her hands. “Whether we have a future gets down to one simple fact: I don’t want you to waste your life trying to help me get over what’s happened to me. I’m not a case. I’m not a job. I’m not a problem you’re supposed to manage. I’d be an endless source of frustration for you. I’d be an endless drain, because what I have can’t be fix—”
“I promise, you don’t need fixing. To me—” He reached for one of her hands and gripped it, tight. “—you’re perfect. For so many reasons, and part of it is because you can understand the darkness that I see. There isn’t one thing I want to change about you. You understand me now, like no one else possibly could. Please, Andi. Give us a chance. I love you. Just as you are. I don’t know how else to say it.”
She reached out for him. Ran her fingers along his cheekbone, as his world stood still. “I love you, too. And I will give us a chance. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“That, at least around me, you’ll only smile when you’re happy.”
He laughed. “Easy.”
He pulled her close. Within minutes, their limbs were tangled, and then their bodies followed suit. Later, as he drifted off to sleep, he heard her whisper, “Gabe. You’re smiling.”
Pulling her closer, he whispered, “Happiest man alive.”
Hello there –
Thank you for purchasing and reading Concierge. I hope you enjoyed it! Please help spread the word about Concierge by telling your friends about it and posting a review where you purchased the book.
I love to hear from readers. If you’d like to say hello, you can find me on Facebook and Instagram. You can also reach me through stellabarcelona.com, which has blogs that I update from time to time, some book related, some not. My site also has book pages with excerpts and book club questions. There is also an “Ask Stella” blog series, where (almost) any question is fair game. You can email me at http://[email protected] and, if you’d like to keep up with news from me, you can join my mailing list on my website, as well. Don’t worry—I’m too busy to send out frequent newsletters, and I promise I won’t share your email address. If you’d prefer to use the U.S. mail, I can be reached at P.O. Box 70332, New Orleans, Louisiana, 70172-0332.
In addition to you, others deserve a thank you for helping me with a wide variety of subjects, such as carefully reading the raw manuscript, decorating a Royal Street townhome, the type of helicopter needed for the story, backstory for the Hernandez brothers from Miami, historic maps of the French Quarter, medical questions, reviewing the back cover copy, technology support, website design, and much, much more. Thank you to: Miguel Andrews, Drew Bevolo, Stephen J. Broussard, Esq., Denise Chopin, Esq., Wendy Dolan (Get Online NOLA), Rebecca Diamante, Richard Hernandez, M.D., Charles W. Richard, M.D., and Amy M. Winters, Esq. A special thank you is also extended to: New Orleans artist Kathy B. Richard, for answering questions about the artistic side of Andi; Diego Larguia (New Orleans Academy of Fine Arts), for graciously taking the time to talk to me about en plein air painting; and Fredrick Guess (Fredrick Guess Studio), for creating inspirational paintings of French Quarter street scenes, including the painting of the St. Louis Cathedral used on the Concierge cover.
Thank you again, and stay in touch!
Stella
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
(Photo at Bevolo Gas & Electric Lights, 318 Royal Street,
New Orleans, La., by Laurie Foret Photography)
Stella Barcelona has always had an active imagination, a tendency to daydream, and a passion for reading romance, mysteries, and thrillers. She has found an outlet for all these aspects of herself by writing romantic thrillers.
In her day-to-day life, Stella is a lawyer and works for a court in New Orleans, Louisiana. She lives minutes from the French Quarter, with her husband and two adorable papillons who believe they are princesses.
Stella’s first novel, Deceived, was inspired by New Orleans, its unique citiz
ens, and the city’s World War II-era history. Deceived introduced Black Raven Private Security Contractors. In her subsequent novels, Shadows and Jigsaw, and now Concierge, Black Raven took flight in thrillers that were inspired by current events. Stella is hard at work on her next Black Raven novel, Insertion, which will be released in 2018.
Coming in 2018
INSERTION
A Black Raven Novel
by Stella Barcelona
Concierge Page 51
