Resurrection

by Wendy Million

  “Finn Donaghey?” the female voice on the other end of the phone asks while I rub my eyes and get my bearings. What time is it?

  “Yeah. Who’s asking?”

  “Carys Van de Berg asked me to call you and relay information to you. My name is Sook Park, and I’m Ms. Van de Berg’s lawyer.”

  My heart beats a staccato in my chest. “Is she all right?” I glance at the crib across the room outlined by the faint glow of a nightlight.

  “She’s been arrested by the FBI, Mr. Donaghey. They have accused her of conspiring with the PLA to commit an act of terrorism on American soil.”

  I frown and rub my forehead. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

  “The evidence the FBI has accumulated is,” the line quiets, “significant.”

  “So get her out on bail or whatever you need to do, and let her come home.”

  “She’s considered a flight risk. At this point, we’re unable to arrange her release.” Silence floats between us across the distance. “They know about you, Mr. Donaghey. Everyone knows about you.”

  Her words set my chest on fire.

  I press the phone to my ear and crawl out of bed, heading for the door. Won’t take long for me to lose my shit if this conversation keeps spiraling. There’s no fucking way Carys isn’t coming home. She sure as shit isn’t going to jail. Once I’m in the kitchen, I take deep breaths while I pace. “Don’t sugarcoat it. What the fuck are we looking at?”

  “There’s a lot of evidence. Sorting through it will take a while. We’ll have to wait for a trial or try to secure a plea. She won’t be back in Switzerland anytime soon.” Sook takes a breath. “Carys asked me to let you know she’s fine. The case against her will be fine, and she wants you to focus on Lucas.”

  I laugh, but there’s nothing funny in what’s happening. “That’s what she wants me to know? What the fuck does ‘anytime soon’ mean?” The urge to throw my phone is almost uncontrollable.

  Another pause and shuffling of papers. “We can never be certain how things will go in a case like this. Until we have a plea or a deal or a conviction, there’s always a chance the case will be resolved favorably.”

  “You’re fucking sugarcoating it. I told you not to do that. Based on your experience, what will happen?”

  All I hear is her breathing before she says, “She’ll go to prison. Unless we can counter their evidence, poke serious holes in their more damning arguments, Carys will go to jail.” She hesitates again. “Either way, she’ll be in the states for a while. Possibly for a very long time.”

  I stop pacing and stare up at the cathedral ceiling. Light streams in the large windows from the full moon. “How long?”

  “Years.”

  My focus strays up to the spot outside our bedroom overlooking the living room. Lucas is up there, waiting for his mother to come home. “Years,” I repeat the word, foreign, unknown on my tongue.

  “We may be able to work out a deal. At this point, she wants to fight.”

  Fight—probably what I’d do. I’ve never gone into one where the odds were so stacked against me. With the law, guilt and innocence doesn’t matter. The weight of the evidence is the only factor. From what Sook is saying and not saying, I don’t like these odds.

  “Carys can’t speak to you, and for obvious reasons it would be ill-advised for you to try to visit her. She’s asked me to keep you up-to-date on her case. We’ve got all hands on deck at the firm while we sort through the evidence.”

  “If a loophole exists—”

  “We’ll find it, yes.” Her voice sounds confident for the first time since she called me. “Sometimes cases take an unexpected turn. Nothing is a guarantee in a case like this.”

  “Call me as soon as you have something. I don’t give a shit about the time difference. Just call.” I take a deep breath and pace around the room. “Tell her I’ll do what she wants.”

  Sook breathes what sounds like a sigh of relief. “Great. Good. I’ll let her know. That’ll be a weight off her shoulders. Listen, I have to get going. There’s a lot happening here, and I need to stay on top of it. Someone will call you when we understand more.” She hangs up without waiting for my response.

  I hold the phone, staring at it, letting the rage build, and then push it down.

  “Was that Carys?” Lena’s voice startles me. “I heard you talking. Is everything okay? You sounded upset.”

  “She’s been arrested.” My voice is dull, dead. “By the F-B-fucking-I.”

  “The FBI? Why would they want her?” Lena draws her robe tight.

  “Conspiring with terrorists.” My mind runs over the details Sook said and didn’t say. “My guess is something to do with the stolen shipment we never traced or bothered to report. At least some of the product seems to have found its way to the PLA or someone similar.”

  “The PLA?”

  “A bunch of fucking losers in Ireland who think anarchy is cool. Charles dealt with them in the past—left that shit for Carys.” My focus keeps straying to our room upstairs and then back to my phone.

  “When will they let her go?” She leans against the kitchen island.

  I can’t make the words leave my lips.

  Her eyes go wide. “Oh, God.”

  A feeble cry sounds from upstairs, and in a minute or two, it’ll become a full-on scream. Feeding time, and the kid loves to eat.

  “I’ll fix him a bottle.” Lena gathers everything for his night feed in jerky movements.

  I’m stuck to the middle of the floor, paralyzed by rage, indecision, and this intolerable frustration because we’ve come so far together to land here.

  She gives me the bottle and puts her hands into the pockets of her robe. “What will you do?”

  “I’m going to feed Lucas.” I gesture to the bottle. “And I might contemplate joining a fucking religion or finding a god to pray to, or maybe I’ll sacrifice something. Do any of those religious things actually work?”

  She grimaces. “People believe what they believe because it makes them feel better.”

  “Well, the only thing I’ve ever believed in is myself. If Carys gets out of this mess and back here, I might have to become a born-again something.” I step past her and head toward the stairs as Lucas ups the volume.

  “So that’s the plan?” She calls after me. “We wait?”

  “If you come up with a better one, you let me know. Until then, yeah, that’s the fucking shitty-ass plan we’re going with.”

  I take the stairs two at a time and then stand outside our bedroom door, calming myself. It’s not good for me to go in there so wound up, even I understand that. When I’ve got the rage and frustration down, I turn the handle and start the shushing noise which signals someone is there.

  When I lift him into my arms and stare at him, I’m glad he’s not old enough to need an explanation for his mother’s absence. ‘Life is cruel’ doesn’t seem like a Carys-approved lesson, even if the sentiment is true.

  Settling into the rocking chair, I tilt the bottle into his mouth and push off the floor with my feet. With each back-and-forth motion, a Plan B forms.

  ~ * ~

  It only takes two weeks for me to decide Sook doesn’t understand how the hell to get Carys out of this, and she’s not coming home to us. The lawyer’s last phone call tonight didn’t go well. In a rage, I hung up on her, ripped the handset out of the wall, and threw it into the fire.

  The situation is a setup—has to be. Maybe I just want it to be. Charles always took risks, and she picked up where he left off. Sook told me many of the dirty deals happened while she was recovering from her last miscarriage. Considering she ended up with an unexpected baby, it’s easy to believe she might have made less than stellar decisions during that period.

  That night, as I rock Lucas, I send two texts and book myself a flight out of Switzerland. When I put my phone beside me, he stretches his little arms and his eyes connect with mine.

  “Don’t worry, little buddy. I’ll get your mom ho
me.”

  The faint outline of the family photo Carys forced me to take when we returned from Russia is barely visible in the dim lighting. I’ve stared at the picture enough the last few weeks the image has become seared into my retinas. At some point, I’ll close my eyes and the photo will haunt me—a comfort, a damnation, what might have been, what will never be.

  Soon everyone will get what they deserve.

  ~ * ~

  The next morning, I fill Lena in on my sudden trip abroad. While she holds Lucas, she searches my face, trying to figure out if there’s any hidden meaning. One of my texts went through, but I don’t have any idea if the second one did.

  When I land in Cape Verde, Jay is at the airport to meet me. Carys insisted he stay here to keep everything on track with the casino, even after she got arrested. Sook told me that no matter what happens to Carys, she wants me and Lucas to have the life we planned to have together. Fuck that.

  Fuck that.

  Not being able to talk to her myself, to sort through this shit as a team, is driving me insane. “You heard anything?” I ask Jay as we drive to the island house.

  “No. Did you think I would?”

  “Nah.” I sink deeper into the leather seat. I’d want the element of surprise. I’m sure he does too. Since our last conversation ended in a shootout, it’s hard to be confident where we stand. Out the window, palm trees and rocky hills pass by in a blur.

  “She’ll never forgive you, man,” Jay says.

  “I don’t care. I’m not leaving her to rot, to waste these years paying for something she didn’t even fucking realize she was doing.” I shake my head. “They’re drilling her because of me. You can’t deny that.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I helped her haul your ass out of the warehouse, watched her bedside vigil until you were out of the woods. I’ve seen you two the last few months. You’ll rip her heart out.”

  A lump surfaces in my throat, and I force it down. Her feelings, my feelings, can’t be my focus. “If it was your wife,” I say. “What would you do?”

  Jay nods. “I get that too, man. I get that too.” He squints before speaking again. “Probably seems dumb to you, but I’ve known Carys since I was little more than a kid. She’s family.” With a quick glance in the rearview mirror, he says, “I appreciate how you love her. I’m glad she’s had that. She deserved it.”

  She deserved more than a few weeks of true happiness. So much more. I rub a hand along my face and then press the heel to my chest. The ache is back. Been gone for a while. Can’t say I’ve missed the desperation. “I’m counting on your loyalty to her. Knowing you’re around to pick her up, to keep her safe...” I roll my shoulders. “But no matter what happens to me—dead, alive, somewhere in between—I’ll find a way to come for you if you don’t do your job. You keep her safe.”

  He meets my gaze in the mirror. “You don’t need to do that, man. I understand. I realize what she means to you.”

  We’re driving up to the house, and he tenses at the wheel.

  “What?” I pick up the weapon on the seat beside me.

  “I don’t recognize that vehicle.” He throws the car into park and draws his gun.

  Climbing out behind him, I keep my gun at the ready. He motions for me to circle the Mediterranean-style bungalow before coming in. I gesture to the left around the house while he opens the front door, gun drawn and calls his wife’s name.

  As I’m rounding the final corner, I check the window and glimpse a familiar sandy blond head. He fucking came. Quicker than I expected. Hustling around the last side of the house, I enter the front foyer cautiously. Could be an ambush.

  Jay has his weapon aimed at Lorcan who is settled into the couch as though he owns the place.

  “Brother,” Lorcan says when he sees me. “You summoned me?”

  “He’s got Sofia and the kids somewhere,” Jay says as I come into the living room.

  “You in the business of taking women and children again, little brother?” I scan as much of the house as I can see from here, checking for anywhere obvious he might have stuck them. His partner in crime probably has them. “Or has Kimi finally joined the dark side?”

  Lorcan glowers at my reference. “Last time we met didn’t end well for any of us. I thought it best to come prepared to bargain.” He glares at Jay. “Put your fucking weapon away. If I wanted a gun fight, I wouldn’t be sitting on your settee.”

  I narrow my eyes. His accent always came and went, but it’s thick now, the same as when he first returned from Ireland years ago.

  “Where are my wife and kids?” Jay asks.

  “Safe.” Lorcan stares and raises his eyebrows. “For now.” With a sigh, he relaxes into the couch. “What’d ya want, Finn?”

  “Where are my wife and kids?” Jay’s voice vibrates with rage.

  There’s fear under his anger. I recognize it. I’ve felt it.

  “He’s not like me,” I say to him. “If my brother says they’re safe, they are. We play nice, and they’ll be fine.”

  Jay eases down his gun. “If you scared my kids—”

  “You’ll what?” Lorcan’s gaze bores into him. “Take a fucking seat.”

  Jay shakes his head and doesn’t sit. His gun is still clutched in his hand.

  “This about Carys?” Lorcan swings his focus to me.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “I can’t help you.” He rises and steps toward the door. “I would say I can’t believe you think I’d help you after what you did to Kim, but that’s always been you, hasn’t it? Finn first.”

  I tuck my gun into the back of my pants and raise my hands. “You’re risking nothing by helping me.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Risking nothing? We risked a fuck of a lot coming here in the first place.”

  Swallowing, my jaw tightens. This touchy-feely shit would be easier if Jay wasn’t in the room, but he won’t leave when his family is the collateral. “I should have handled the Kim situation differently.”

  Lorcan raises his brows, unimpressed with my admission.

  “I probably should have handled a lot of things differently.”

  His hands on his hips, Lorcan’s gaze narrows. “What are you on about?”

  “I want to turn myself in to the FBI as long as Carys goes free—no chance of prison, no repercussions for any of the crimes she’s accused of committing.”

  “You understand what that’ll mean for you, don’t ya?”

  I grimace. “I plead guilty to whatever they want to throw my way. My freedom for hers.”

  Lorcan whistles long and low. He studies me for a moment. “This what you want?”

  “If you can secure those conditions for me—Carys gets off free and clear of everything—then I’ll turn myself in.”

  “Huh.” He stares at the ceiling before giving me his attention again. “I always suspected you loved her with that intensity but never knew for sure.”

  “Will you help me?”

  Lorcan’s hand sweeps through his hair, and he sighs. “You shot Kim.”

  “I did.”

  “Right in front of me. Like what I wanted, how I felt meant nothing.”

  Instead of answering him, I purse my lips and then slide my gaze away. Can I justify or explain myself in a way that’ll matter to him? “I’d forgotten.”

  “What’s that?”

  “What it’s like to love someone beyond reason.” I shrug. “I thought I was protecting us, and then when I realized you already had the truth—well, my impulse control has never been particularly strong.”

  “Kim,” Lorcan calls out. “What do ya think? Sound close enough to an apology?”

  Stepping out from the darkened kitchen, she makes eye contact with me. She’s as striking as she was the first time I saw her. Long, dark hair, slender but fit, tan skin. The pull I once felt toward her as well as the anger is gone, evaporated.

  “Not quite.” Kim’s gaze sweeps over me, assessing. “Is Finn Donaghey capable of a selfless act?” She c
rosses her arms.

  “It appears so,” Lorcan says.

  “I’m in favor of you going to jail.” She frowns. “Less in favor of how upset that’ll make Carys. You understand what this will do to her?”

  “She has a child,” I say. “A baby boy. Lucas.”

  “I heard.” Kim’s voice softens as she says, “Named after her brother.” She sighs and wanders over to stand next to Lorcan. “I’m familiar with the evidence they have on you. You’ll never see the light of day. Turning yourself in will be a life sentence, several of them. You’ll die in prison.”

  My brother tenses at her words, and my heart thumps. Her bluntness used to be refreshing. “It is what it is. We realized I was on borrowed time.”

  She studies me for another moment and then stares at Lorcan. Their prolonged eye contact is a silent communication. They must have known I might turn myself in, ask for a deal. I’m sure they discussed how they’d handle the negotiation.

  Kim turns back. “A man named Zahir will call you.”

  “Sook can help with whatever paperwork I need to sign. She’s with Carys right now.” I hesitate before I make my only other request. Am I being selfish or fair? I left her one other time without an explanation. I can’t do that again. “And I want to talk to Carys, alone, just once before they put me away.”

  “You’re really doing this.” Kim takes a deep breath.

  “I don’t know why everyone is so fucking surprised.”

  “Death or jail,” she says. “Always thought you’d pick death if push came to shove.”

  “Not the dilemma here, is it?” I eye her. “She’s is in trouble. I can save her. Nothin’ I wouldn’t do to keep her safe.”

  With a curt nod, Kim links her hand with Lorcan’s. “We’ll make the arrangements for the swap. We gotta go, or we’ll be missed.”

  Before they’ve even taken one step toward the door, Jay raises his gun. “My family.”

  Her smile is sly. “We never had them. Watched them leave before picking the lock and disabling the alarm. You should tighten your security. They got a call from a new friend to go to a pool party. Completely legitimate. Sometimes,” she says, “timing is everything.”