“I used to like a lot of things that were no good for me.” She lifted her eyes up to mine and stared into them. Her gaze penetrated deep into my soul and I knew that I would do anything for those eyes. I tightened my grip on her waist and felt her relax into me, her hands slowly wrapping around my neck.
“I’m not asking you to give up your career, Hailey. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“So what are you asking?” Her lips brushed mine, her breath warm as it washed over my skin. My whole body stiffened and she backed her head away from me, arching her eyebrow. Answer the question, her eyes said.
I dropped my shoulders, exhaling. “My boss wants to talk to you.”
She stared at me for a few moments, and then her arms loosened around my neck. She dipped her chin down. “Okay.”
15
Hailey
Freddy and I walked into a plain, brick building together. With every step I took, my nerves frayed more and more. When Freddy first told me he worked for the CIA, I believed him—it’s what he’d always wanted to do, even when we were kids. But now that I was walking in to talk to his boss…
I was nervous. Torn. Scared.
For the first time since I met Gianni, I wasn’t sure I trusted him. He’d given me a gallery exhibition, a name, a career, a studio space—everything. He was my fairy godfather.
But judging by the set of Freddy’s jaw, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Freddy and I walked down a long, beige corridor until Freddy stopped in front of a door. He opened it to reveal a small room with a table in the center.
An interrogation room.
My eyes widened and I glanced at him. “Am I in trouble?”
Freddy shook his head. “No. But I do have to follow protocol.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Water?”
“Am I allowed to leave?”
Freddy took a deep breath and brought his hands up to squeeze my upper arms. “You’re not in trouble, Hailey. Try to relax. We just want your help. You can leave whenever you want.”
“I don’t know anything, Freddy,” I whispered, glancing up and down the hallway. It was still deserted. “I can’t help you.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Drink?”
“Black coffee.”
He nodded and gestured to the room. With a deep breath, I stepped inside and jumped when the door clanged shut behind me. I whipped around, trying the door handle. It turned freely and I breathed a sigh of relief. My heartbeat slowed a tiny bit. The door wasn’t locked, and I could leave anytime I wanted.
Glancing around the room, I took stock of my surroundings. The walls were cinderblock, painted a dirty off-white color. The table in the middle was made of steel, with two uncomfortable-looking chairs on one side of it, and one chair on the other. A bar was welded to the table on one side, about two inches off the surface.
My eyes widened when I realized it was designed as an anchor to attach handcuffs. I wondered how many people had been interrogated in this room. I looked up at the corner of the room and saw a camera with a little red light staring back at me. They were filming me.
Who ‘they’ were, I still wasn’t sure. Did I trust Freddy when he said he worked for the CIA? What if he was a criminal, and this was all a ruse? What if Gianni was a good guy, and I was in trouble? What if, what if, what if…
My mind was racing. My heart bounced around my ribcage as panic clawed at my throat. The seconds ticked by, one by one, as I nearly hyperventilated.
I was an artist. A painter. That was all. I wasn’t supposed to be here. What was I going to tell them anyway? I didn’t know anything.
My thoughts flicked to the delivery that I witnessed, to Gianni tearing the canvas. Is that something they would want to know?
Memories flooded my brain. Freddy and I, young and in love, two months after getting his driver’s license. We drove home after spending an evening under the stars at the park near my house.
The crash.
The horror.
Me, taking the blame.
I wanted to help him then, too. I knew that if he was the one behind the wheel, he’d get kicked out of our prep school—he’d never be able to afford the legal fees.
How simple things had been, and then everything changed.
I still remember the look in my father’s eyes when I told him I was the one driving. I remember the promises Freddy made to me—that he’d be by my side, he’d never leave me, he’d never forget what I did for him.
But he did leave.
Within a couple of weeks, he was gone, and I never heard from him again.
He saw what the community did to me—how I was shunned, shamed, ostracized. He couldn’t be with me after that. He turned his back on me, just like everyone else in my life.
And that was the man I was supposed to trust? I was supposed to work with him?
I couldn’t. I had to be careful. I didn’t understand what was going on here, and I needed to keep my cards close to my chest. In that moment, I decided not to tell Freddy about the delivery that morning.
I jumped when the door opened. Freddy, with those annoyingly attractive eyes of his, walked in first. A zip of heat coursed through me, dispelling the memories of another life.
Behind him was a tall, African-American man. He was bald, his head shining under the fluorescent lights. The man was wearing a well-tailored navy suit.
His eyes stayed steady on mine before nodding to the table. “Miss Ford,” he said.
I took a seat, clasping my hands under the table to stop them shaking. Freddy sat down across from me, pushing a cup of coffee toward me, but I ignored it. The other man stayed standing.
It was probably a standard intimidation tactic—for him to appear large and powerful as he stood above me. As much as tried to keep my breath steady and my heartbeat slow, I still felt small. It was working. I felt intimidated.
“My name is Berkeley Howard. You’ve met Agent Finch.”
I nodded.
Berkeley continued. “We’ve brought you in because you have a connection to Gianni Russo. Are you aware that he’s suspected of being at the center of an international human trafficking ring?”
My eyes widened. “I… What? No. Gianni?”
Berkeley grunted, glancing at Freddy. My heart hammered. I licked my lips, but my mouth felt so dry that it hardly made a difference. The image of Gianni in the back of the truck, tearing a painting from corner to corner flashed through my mind again. I tried to swallow past a lump in my throat as panic flooded my chest.
Freddy sighed. “Hailey, he’s not a good person.”
“He gave me a studio. He sold a dozen paintings for me.” My eyes brimmed with tears and I brushed them away angrily. “What… How do you know?”
“We’ve been watching the Russos for a number of years,” Berkeley said, finally taking a seat. He folded his hands on the table, and the hard lines on his face softened slightly. “We were able to pinpoint Gianni as the central node in a number of recent busts. We believe his parents, Francesca and Marco, ferry the girls overseas and overlook their dispersal through Europe and Asia.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. “Gianni never seemed like he would… He’s… I don’t…”
Freddy inhaled. “I know it’s hard to believe, Hailey, but he’s not who you think he is. We still haven’t figured out how the art gallery dovetails into the network, if it even does at all.”
I nodded, tension easing inside me. “Okay.” So there was a chance the art gallery wasn’t connected. That was good.
“We need your help,” Freddy continued. “Gianni trusts you. So far, he hasn’t exposed himself, but we think you could gather some important information.”
I stared at the two men, feeling my stomach churn and my throat tighten. I understood the words they were saying, but I couldn’t process them. Did they know what they were asking me to do? To give up the career that I’d fought to carve out for myself, to betray t
he man who had given it to me? To trust Freddy Finch, of all people?
I was supposed to do all that without a second thought?
Shifting in my seat, I kneaded my hands together. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I’m not that close to him. I just paint.”
“But you have 24/7 access to your studio, no?” The skin around Freddy’s eyes tightened as he stared at me. Betrayal teased my insides. He only wanted to use me… again.
I sat up a bit straighter. “You’re asking me to jeopardize my career just because you say so? Without any proof?” The words came out stronger than I anticipated.
Berkeley stood up and ducked out of the room for a moment.
Freddy took a deep breath. “Hailey, I’m trying to help you—”
“It sounds like you’re trying to use me, just like you did when we were seventeen.”
His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak again, but Berkeley reappeared with a file. He flipped it open to show photos of Gianni with the men I had seen driving the truck, and then more photos of those men with four young girls.
“This was taken outside the airport. They were bound for Germany. We lost track of them somewhere in Eastern Europe.”
I listened as my heart sank. I didn’t need this proof—not really. As soon as I’d seen Gianni tear into that painting, I knew something was wrong. When he was around me, he treated artwork with such reverence that to see him take a knife to a canvas had been very, very wrong.
My shoulders slumped and I brushed a hot tear off my cheek, taking one of the photos and staring at it. The girl was so, so young. The whites of her eyes looked yellow, like she’d been given some sort of drug.
“I thought he would give me a leg up, help me make a living off these paintings. But he’s just a horrible, vile…” I stuttered, trying to find the words for Gianni. A horrible thought crossed my head and I stared at the two men. “Am I… Am I in danger? Of this? Would they…?”
Berk and Freddy exchanged a glance before Freddy answered. “You’re… too old, Hailey. They’re not going to abduct you.” He pointed to the pictures. “They go for young girls, usually younger than fifteen. Sometimes as young as five or six.”
I wanted to throw up, but I just nodded. “I can’t believe this. Gianni… I thought this was my big break,” I whispered. “I know that sounds so selfish. I thought Gianni would be the one to make my career.”
“You don’t need him, Hailey,” Freddy said gently. “I saw the way people reacted to your work.”
I scoffed. “They reacted to my work in a Russo Art Gallery. They reacted to my name on a forty-foot banner. Without that, do you think those people would care?”
Berkeley cleared his throat. “Miss Ford, cooperating with us will be of benefit to you. We can provide an allowance and a place to live. We have resources to help you so you can stand on your own two feet without the help of an international human trafficking organization.” His eyebrows drew together. “But if you don’t help us, we’ll have to consider you hostile to our investigation.”
I stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
16
Freddy
Hailey wouldn’t even look at me, and it sent a sharp pain through the center of my chest. I knew what we were asking her to do, but I had no choice. Neither of us did.
Once again, I was asking her to put her future in jeopardy for my sake.
The first time, she helped me out of love. This time, she was helping me out of fear. I hated seeing that look on her face and knowing that I was the one hurting her.
But what choice did I have? If I didn’t bring her in, Berk would consider her a threat, along with Gianni. The only way to protect her—and her career—was to make sure Hailey was cooperating with us.
I just wished I could keep her out of this completely. Our kiss was now a distant memory, and I knew that she didn’t want to be anywhere near me. When I walked her out to the front door, brushed me off. I offered to drive her back to her friend’s house, but she shook her head and walked away without looking back.
Berk had given her a phone to contact me with, and I would meet with her the following day to go over what we wanted from her. We were going to set her up with a generous allowance and a decent apartment—which Hailey desperately needed—but it didn’t feel like we were doing the right thing. Not even a little bit.
I watched her walk away and my heart squeezed, knowing that she was in pain because of me.
Again.
Last time, she saved me from getting kicked out of school. The only reason I was in this CIA position now was because she’d taken the blame for what I’d done. She thought her family—the wealthy, privileged LaFleurs—would protect her.
And I thought so too.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself. When her father told me to stay away from her, he said that it would help her legal case after the accident. I resisted until he left me no choice. He presented me with a contract and forty thousand dollars.
“Either you take the money, leave, and never come back,” he said, watching me carefully. “Or you’ll never go to college. You’ll never have a career. I will do everything in my power to ruin your miserable fucking life, just as you ruined my daughter’s.”
He was John LaFleur, and I was a nobody. He had the power to kick me out of prep school and to ruin the future that I’d worked so hard to have. I knew from the look in his eyes that he would ruin me if I didn’t stay away from his daughter.
It was self-preservation. Cowardice. It was the biggest mistake of my life, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I’d endured years of torture at that prep school, and the thought of throwing it all away had turned my stomach.
I’d told myself that I stayed away to protect Hailey—to make sure she had the best possible future. But now, I knew that John LaFleur had forced me to leave his daughter and then proceeded to disown her. He was a cold-hearted asshole, and I was no better. I took the money. I stayed away. I left Hailey on her own.
And I couldn’t deny it—the money he gave me to leave town forever was enough to give me a bit of stability through college. I had enough to focus on school and to be accepted into the CIA as an analyst straight after graduation. I owed him my career…
I had told myself I was taking the money for Hailey. I left to protect Hailey. I turned my back on her because it was the best thing to do, even though it broke my heart. What if I’d just lied to myself for years? Maybe I was just a cold-hearted, selfish asshole like her father.
Berk’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder and I turned to look at him. “Keep her on a short leash,” he said, his eyes following her out of the lot.
I nodded. “Will do.” I tried to sound as confident as I could, but I knew that Hailey wasn’t the kind of woman you could keep on a leash. Shed do whatever she wanted, and I was the last person she wanted to listen to.
As soon as Berk turned away, Gary’s van came tearing through the parking lot. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out, eyes wide with excitement.
“Come on,” he said. “We have to go. Something’s going down.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I jogged over to the passenger’s side and jumped in. I’d barely closed the door before Gary stepped on the gas. We flew through the streets toward downtown D.C.
“Where are we going?”
“The Four Seasons.” Gary was gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles were almost white.
I swallowed. The Four Season Hotel was where the Francesca and Marco Russo were staying. If something was happening there, it was important. I checked my waistband for my weapon and felt the familiar flood of adrenaline course through me.
Other agents in the Special Activities Division were used to this feeling. Zane and Chris had been together in the Marines. The CIA’s SAD was full of ex-military. Not me, though. I’d started as an analyst and only started working in the field after a couple of years in the CIA. This
feeling was new to me. My heart thumped as I tried my best to stay calm.
“What’s happening?”
“We’ve seen movement from Liu Wei. He’s in D.C.”
“The Chinese guy?”
Gary nodded. “Suspected of human trafficking, but we’ve never been able to pin anything on him. Got his hands in drugs as well. Made big moves to gain territory in New York a few years ago.”
“Why is he here?”
“This could be the meeting we were waiting for. We know the Russos are taking girls to Eastern Europe. What if the end goal is to send them off to Asia? Don’t American girls get a high price over there?”
I grimaced. This whole operation made my skin crawl. I inhaled as distaste gurgled in my stomach. I couldn’t stop human trafficking. I couldn’t stop all young women—young girls, really, most of them—being abducted and sold to the highest bidder. I could, however, stop the Russos. I could stop Gianni. I could protect Hailey.
Maybe, if I did this right, I would feel better about what I’d done to Hailey all those years ago.
We were silent for the rest of the ride. When we got to the Four Seasons, Gary did a loop of the block and parked the car halfway down the street. We had a clear view of the entrance, and I could see two other unmarked cars that belonged to the Agency.
“We bugged the Russo’s room while they were out,” Gary said, climbing into the back of the van. He handed me a headset and put one on himself, then started fiddling with the dials of the equipment hanging on the van’s walls. “They’re in the penthouse.”
After a couple of seconds, snippets of quiet conversation came in over the headset. The screens in front of us turned on, and I had a bird’s eye view of the Russo’s hotel room. I gulped.
Then, we waited. And waited. And waited.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, and then unclipped my gun holster and shoved it in the glove box. I climbed back beside Gary, slouched in my seat, and waited some more. Nothing was happening. I glanced from Gary to the hotel, drumming my fingers on my thigh. Finally, after nearly two hours, I huffed. “What’s going on?”
His Word: A CIA Military Romance Page 8
