Consequence

by Rachel Higginson

  “Should we give you two a minute or…?” Conlan’s amused voice broke through the perfect moment, crashing us back to reality and the house of the Irish mob boss.

  “Fuck off,” Sayer growled, leaning back on the loveseat to pull me into the crook of his body. He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his arm around me.

  Conlan grinned at him. “Domesticated. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Gus snorted. “This is the only version of him I know.”

  “You’re both assholes,” Sayer pointed out. “Jealous assholes.”

  Their protests were loud and peppered with clever curse words. By the time they settled down, I was genuinely laughing. Despite his reputation and terrifying aura, I could see why Conlan and Sayer had become friends. They were polar opposites, but they fit together exactly right at the same time.

  “So how many remaining Russians do you think we’re dealing with?” Sayer asked.

  Conlan rubbed a hand over his beard and thought about it. “Twenty tops. Loyal ones anyway. More than that claim to be Russian, but their allegiance could be bought or lured away. We could all use more men.”

  “Yakuza won’t take any of the older guys,” Sayer pointed out. “They want the kids.”

  “They can have the kids.” Conlan shrugged. “The entire lot of ‘em are picked over by now. Atticus has his band of merry men, but beyond their circle there’s not too much other trouble.”

  “And the Volkov?” Sayer asked.

  “They could be taken care of. There’s enough men on the inside, members from the families that something could be arranged.” He shrugged again. “It won’t be cheap of course, but I’m sure you won’t mind paying.”

  It was Sayer’s turn to shrug. “I have full faith in Payne to do what he’s supposed to do.”

  Conlan grunted his agreement. “Do you think he’ll let you go again?”

  “We have a deal. It’s his fault Juliet was taken in the first place. He told me he had things handled here.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when the Irish leave the agency. We make up all the good cops.”

  Sayer shot him a look. “You make up all the corrupted cops.”

  Conlan waved him off. “Good cops all the same.”

  Sayer chose to ignore his faulty logic. “What happens when Mason turns his eyes to the Irish?”

  “We’ll send them after Luca.” Conlan grinned.

  “And when Luca’s gone and when Ry is gone? Then what?”

  “Eh, the fire will be out by then. We’re not the ones that murdered his sister. After the Volkov are buried, he won’t have anything left to fight for. If we’re lucky, he’ll stay on the force and take up space until no one remembers what they’re fighting for.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to stop at the Russians,” I spoke up. “I think he really, truly believes in justice and all that. I think he wants to clean up DC for good.”

  All three men made scoffing noises. The thing about being a criminal in DC was that you always felt like a saint compared to the politicians. There was organized crime and then there was dressing up organized crime in justice, liberty and freedom for all in the designer suit of an elected official.

  Corruption in the name of the people.

  I stole something and called it theft. They stole everything and called it taxes.

  I settled on a weak, half-hearted, “You know what I mean.”

  “We’ll worry about Mason later,” Sayer decided. “At least we know he’s not going to hurt Juliet. He’s the least of our concerns right now.”

  That was true. “The remaining Russians?”

  Conlan leaned forward and winked at me. “In the years I’ve known about you sweetheart, I’ve learned this. When Caro Valero wants something, the rest of us bend over backward until she gets it. If you want the Russians gone, love, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  Unable to respond to his comment, I fell silent for a few minutes while the circle of criminal masterminds began to develop a plan. They’d divvy up the members of the factions they thought they could turn between the four families and then pick off the outliers one by one. The core group of loyal members would be the most difficult. They were bound by blood and ink to stick together, to wait for the pakhan to return.

  “Then we kill them,” Conlan argued. “If we can’t coerce them, we kill them.”

  “There’s twenty of them at least,” Sayer pointed out. “If we go about this slowly and inconspicuously, then we’ll draw attention to ourselves within the brotherhood. If we go fast and hard with one deadly strike, then we’ll draw attention to ourselves within the brotherhood. There’s not a clear direction yet.”

  The entire conversation made me angry, made me resent Atticus all over again. Maybe it was unfair to blame everything on him, but I knew he was responsible for most of this. He had been a thorn in my side since the beginning of everything I could remember. Ever since we were kids, he’d gone out of his way to make my life miserable, to make everyone around him miserable.

  I hated the idea of killing anyone just so I could have freedom, so I would feel safe. Especially killing a lot of them. What made my life more important than theirs? The only redeeming quality I could find in this plan was that Juliet would be safe. I would do anything to protect her. Even if it meant carrying out this horrific plan.

  My chest pinched with guilt and sorrow. The majority of these people were simply going about their own business, doing their job, following orders. They wanted to keep the bratva alive. They were loyal to their brothers and viewed me as a threat and Sayer as a traitor. For good reason.

  And I was asking for their heads in bowling bags. Thinking about it that way, I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t like their point of view, but I couldn’t blame them for it.

  Besides, I didn’t want all of their heads chopped off, just one particular head. It was Atticus I was after. And the pakhan, but they were mostly taken care of already. Atticus was the only real problem left, the only enemy worth killing.

  I lifted my head feeling confident for the first time since I could remember. My skin tingled with a solution and I had the dizzying feeling that I was stepping back into my real body. This was who I was meant to be. This was the girl I was born to embody. I could play pretend in Frisco all I wanted, but I had grown up around thieves and liars. It was time to start admitting that I was one of them.

  “We don’t have to take them all out,” I told the men desperately trying to protect my daughter. “We just need to cut the head off the snake.”

  Sayer turned to me, his eyebrows raised with pride. “Not a half bad idea, Six.”

  “You mean Atticus?” Gus hedged carefully.

  I held his gaze, realizing how tough this decision might be for him. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  Gus met my gaze, his expression transforming him from the boy I knew, the boy I grew up with, to a cold, calculating killer I had never met before. “I’ll be okay, Caro. Truly okay.”

  Sayer let out a breath of surprised laughter and I turned to him. “Am I missing something?”

  “If you’re waiting for me to feel some kind of familial guilt, you’re not going to find it. Atticus is insane. We’d be doing the world a favor.” Gus ran a hand through his hair. “For real, I’m good with this plan.”

  Conlan faced Gus, his expression thoughtful. “It’s true then? The bookkeeper was your doing?”

  Gus rubbed his hands over his thighs, looking uncomfortable for the first time in… well, ever. “He had it coming.” He looked down at his feet. “Also, he had cancer. It was a kindness.”

  Oh my God.

  Holy shit.

  I didn’t think Gus had it in him.

  There was a tortured quality to his voice that could have been heartbreaking, except Gus had always been a terrible liar. Something was off with his story, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. He caught me staring and a door slammed shut over his eyes, over his face.

  Discussion
over.

  Gus was so much more of a mystery than I had ever given him credit for.

  Sayer leaned forward, bringing us back to the point. “We finally take out Atticus.”

  The rest of us nodded our approval. “It’s not going to be easy,” Conlan added.

  He was right about that. Atticus would be expecting this, anticipating it. He would put up protection and go deep into hiding. With the restoration of the bratva on the horizon and the possibility of being the hero that brought it back to life, he would do whatever it took to stay alive. Evil anticipation burned through me, sizzling in my blood and stinging through my bones. He’d been spared before because of his position in the brotherhood, because of his familial ties, because he was a mean son of a bitch that would extract horrific revenge if something went wrong.

  It was too late to worry about reasons and logic and moving on. It was time to end this. It was time to say goodbye to the bratva once and for all. Bury the ghosts that should have stayed dead.

  They shouldn’t have taken Sayer away from me. And they shouldn’t have kidnapped my daughter. It was time to prove them all right; I did belong in this world.

  Standing up, anxious to get this over with, I said, “It’s about time.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  We left NoMa and headed back downtown by cab. The three of us were silent on the way. There was too much to talk about, too much to say. And while Sayer and I had seemed to work past a few issues, Gus was on the opposite end of the spectrum.

  When I was saying goodbye to Conlan, out of the corner of my eye, I had watched Sayer try to talk to Gus, but Gus wasn’t interested in what Sayer had to say. He’d left the room. We found him on the front stoop with another bodyguard when we’d walked outside.

  I felt bad for Gus because I could relate. I knew what it was like to think you understood a person and then found out you didn’t. At all. I also particularly knew what it was like to be a victim of Sayer’s brand of manipulation and secrets.

  The difference between Gus and me was that Sayer was also a victim of my lies and deceit. And Gus had been nothing but loyal and honest.

  “I’ll take this cab back to my house,” Gus said when we neared Sayer’s apartment.

  Sayer’s blue eyes sparked with something. I thought it was regret, but he was impossible to read, especially in the dark. “Are you sure, man? We could talk about—”

  Gus shook his head. “That’s all right. I’ll be over tomorrow. You can fill me in then.”

  “Okay.”

  Gus sat in the front next to the driver, so I slid forward and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, if you ever want to swap war stories, I’m here for you.”

  He shrugged off my hand and I shrunk back. I’d meant to lighten his mood by teasing him, but it only seemed to worsen. “Yeah, you’re here. After I came and got you.”

  Shoot. “Augustus…”

  He shook his head back and forth. “Caroline.” He exhaled in a way that I could tell he was trying to get himself under control. “Listen, I’ll be fine. I just need the night, okay?”

  Sayer and I both answered with an identically contrite, “Okay.”

  Once we’d reached Sayer’s building, the cabby pulled to the curb and let us out. Sayer tried to pay, but Gus insisted he would get it once he got to his place.

  We watched the cab drive away and stood there for a long time. The stakeouts probably ate up our melancholy huddle, wondering what we were doing just standing on the sidewalk not doing anything.

  Taking Sayer’s hand, I tugged him toward the building. I had never seen him so visibly helpless before. Even when he’d received his sentencing, he’d been pissed, but also determined and confident.

  He looked lost now, hurt in some colossal way. “Are you okay?” I asked him after we’d stepped into the lobby.

  His head dropped, and his body turned to stone. “Fuck,” he growled at the carpet.

  “Hey…”

  He pulled away from me, pacing a short distance away before coming back. “He deserves better than that. Than me.” His tortured gaze found mine. “I should have told him. I don’t even know why I didn’t… I guess… I guess there’s just a point when you’ve kept a secret for so long you don’t know what else to do with it other than hide it. I… Fuck!”

  I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. “Oh, my gosh, stop!” His hands settled on my waist as if he couldn’t help himself. “Stop, Sayer. This is Gus. Okay? He’ll be fine. Hell, he’ll even understand. Just give him a minute to calm down.”

  “Would you understand this? Would you forgive me for this?”

  Pulling back, I gave him a look. “I already have.”

  His lips flattened together. “You’re mad too?”

  I rolled my eyes. He couldn’t be serious. “Sayer, I’ve known you most of my life and I never knew you were in league with the Irish and the Italians. Seriously, Yakuza? I’ve never heard you say anything but negative things about them. It’s obnoxious that you had all these game plans but we never knew what they were. You took over an entire city from behind bars, and neither Gus nor I even knew you were trying. You’re good at what you do. Really good. The fucking best. You’re also really good at keeping secrets and lying to the people you care about. Sometimes that’s a hard pill to swallow. Gus will forgive you. Of course he will. But it’s a lot, okay? He needs to process everything.”

  His eyes narrowed as he absorbed my theory. I could tell he wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe me or not. “Why are you so okay with everything?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen I’ve been dealing with shocking surprises for weeks now. Do you remember running into me at the restaurant? I didn’t handle that well at all.”

  One side of his mouth kicked up in a small smile. “I forgot how fun it was to rile you up until that night.”

  Resisting the urge to kick him, I tried to step back. His hands tightened on my waist and pulled me more firmly against him. “And I forgot how obnoxious you are.”

  “Liar.” His expression melted into something like adoration. “That’s something you can’t forget.”

  This time my laugh was genuine and warm and so comfortable. “Very true.”

  His expression sobered, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against mine. “We’re going to get him, Six. We’re going to finish this forever.”

  “Are you sure you want to?” I whispered, afraid of the answer. “You’ve fought so hard for this. If you don’t want to walk away, then don’t.”

  His hands moved to the small of my back and I leaned into him, my chest against his, my heart beating in rhythm with his. “If I’ve fought hard for anything, it’s been you. If I’ve wanted anything at all, it’s been you. If I’ve loved anything in this life of mine, it hasn’t been the brotherhood or the bratva or thieving, it’s been you. It’s always been you, Caro. From the day I met you till the day I die.”

  I struggled to breathe evenly as his words washed over me, setting me on fire with the love I had once felt for this man. Only now it was deeper, stronger, more eternal. After all this time, to finally be with him again was… overwhelming.

  Most of my life could be summed up with loving this man. And despite our time apart, I knew the rest of my life would be written the same way.

  There was only this love for him. Only Sayer. And now we could be a family. Now he could be a part of Juliet’s life and my life and our forever. Maybe happily ever after wasn’t such a crazy concept after all.

  I lifted to my toes and pressed my lips to his, unable to resist the gravitational pull that always existed between us. He was there to meet me, ready and waiting.

  His lips were impossibly soft compared to the solid arms around my waist and the rock-hard chest supporting me. They were gentle, but insistent. Considerate, but hungry. He deepened the kiss almost immediately so our tongues could tangle and we could truly taste each other.

  My hands moved to the back of his head, to th
e lush strands of his thick hair. My skin tingled at the instant intimacy we found, and a fire began to burn low in my belly. I wanted this man. Needed him.

  One of his hands bunched up my tunic, pulling it out of his way so his other hand could find my skin. We both made a sound at the skin to skin contact, his heat against mine.

  “Caroline,” he murmured, tearing his lips from mine to trail kisses along my jawline and down the column of my throat. “Fucking need you all the time”

  I shivered at his words, gripping his head as his face buried between the valley of my breasts. He nipped his teeth at the inside of my breast. I squeaked, surprised and aroused and so in love all over again.

  The main door pushed open and a resident stepped inside, forcing us to jump apart. Or rather, I jumped back from Sayer and blushed the color of a ripe tomato from head to toe. Oops. I had totally forgotten we were still in the lobby of his building.

  The security cameras probably got a really good show. Consequently, Mason and his minions did too.

  The redness on my cheeks turned to a mottled purple, but Sayer was all smug smiles and arrogance.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the elevator. “Can we go upstairs now?”

  “I’m waiting on you,” he accused.

  My timing was bad again though as we stepped into the elevator with the person that had interrupted our make out.

  Sayer didn’t seem bothered at all. He wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me into him. The stranger, a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit and loose tie, cleared his throat nervously—as if we were going to pick up right where we left off.

  Sayer wasn’t put off at all by the embarrassing attention. In an amused tone he asked, “Do you have kids?”

  The guy half turned around, surprised Sayer was talking to him. “Uh, yeah, two.”

  Sayer smiled. “Then you know what it’s like trying to find some alone time. Take it where you can get it, am I right?”

  “Er, I’m divorced.”

  The elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor. Sayer chuckled, enjoying the guy’s discomfort. “Good luck to you then.” The guy snarled, leaving the elevator without another word.