Revenge

by Meredith Wild

  “Are you?”

  “No, I’m not.” My answer is clipped, hopefully closing the subject.

  “If it wasn’t you, who was it? Don’t think you’re fooling me. I’ve been watching you dance around the truth for two damn days. You’re deeper in this than you let on.”

  “I’m just trying to get my life back.”

  “What about your boyfriend? How does he play into all of this if you just met him?”

  My palms prickle with anxiety. I don’t want Rivero getting anywhere near Tristan. “You should leave him out of this, which should be easy because you’re never going to find him.”

  He narrows his eyes a little. “Have you heard from him?”

  “He’s too smart to seek me out. He knows it’s dangerous.”

  “Funny. I’d been focused on you this whole time.”

  Our gazes lock. I stop breathing because there’s something in his eyes. Knowing. Discovery. Everything I was deathly terrified of when he stopped us at the airport.

  “I obviously had to know who was savvy enough to slip through my fingers and make it out of the airport before we even knew he was gone.”

  My heart starts racing. I keep my lips sealed shut.

  “For a second there, I thought he was going to help me fill in the blanks on you, but now that I know you better, it makes sense that you’d link up with someone who operated underground. Someone who could move from place to place without being noticed.”

  “All he’s ever done is try to protect me. And if you want my help to bust this thing open, you’re going to have to forget about him.” I will my voice not to shake, but I need him to back off. He’s trying to draw a line I won’t cross.

  “I don’t think it’s that simple. Ethan Gallo’s fingerprints didn’t trigger anything going through border patrol, but when I ran them through the other government databases last night, I got a hit. You were both traveling under aliases, which wouldn’t be especially interesting except Tristan Stone was injured in the line of duty nearly six years ago and no one ever heard from him again. No credit cards. No bank accounts. Zero activity. You’ve been dead for two months. He’s been a ghost for a lot longer. Pretty interesting, don’t you think?”

  Forget about him. I silently beg him to shift his focus to what really matters. Simon. Felix. Stopping this deadly plan from happening. But the glimmer in Rivero’s eyes tells me he’s not going to let this go. He can dig all he wants. I’ll never do anything to bring him closer to Tristan, and as long as Tristan stays away, Rivero won’t have a chance.

  I rise quickly. “I’ll get a cab home.”

  He follows me with his stare. He’s trying to intimidate me. Turn me inside out. Once upon a time, that may have affected me more, but I’ve faced off with worse men than him.

  “Your father can’t protect both of you,” he adds, like he’s trying to bait me into saying something stupid and incriminating.

  “You’re confused. Tristan doesn’t need protection.”

  “Then why are you being so careful? What are you hiding?”

  I place my hands on the table and bring my face closer to his. “More than you’ll ever know. More than will ever matter next to the death and deceit that Simon’s orchestrating at this very moment. You have no idea what I’ve been through, but you can trust that Tristan’s kept me alive through all of it. And if you think you can intimidate me into implicating him, you’re dead wrong.”

  He regards me for a few tense seconds before draining his glass and averting his gaze.

  Satisfied that I’ve won the staring contest, I turn to leave. Except I know this isn’t over.

  TRISTAN

  The Madera is an upscale boutique hotel. The man in the dark-gray suit fits right in, twisting his glass of red wine by the base, looking like he’s somewhere else in his mind. He barely notices me when I take the stool next to him.

  “Senator Keegan.”

  He straightens his posture and looks me over, suddenly seeming more composed. “Do I know you?”

  “No, but I’m a friend of Devon’s.”

  His composure is short-lived. He shoots a panicked look around the bar.

  “She’s not here,” I say.

  The blood vessel in his neck ticks rapidly. “If she’s not here, where is she?”

  I turn to square my torso with his. “I’ll tell you, but we need to talk first.”

  The bartender is chatting up the cocktail waitress at the other end of the bar, ignoring his only customers. Us.

  “Is she all right?” he asks, his voice low.

  I maintain a calm exterior. I don’t want to make him too comfortable or give him too much hope. A healthy degree of fear is helpful in trying to get information out of people.

  Keegan licks his lips nervously. “Listen, whoever you are—”

  I lean in. “You don’t need to know who I am. All you need to know is that Devon’s alive because of me. I don’t trust you and you don’t trust me, but if you want me to protect her, that’s going to have to change. I need some information from you.”

  He takes a few seconds to absorb what I’ve said. He looks me over again, like somehow he can determine anything about me from the exterior. He can’t. He has no idea what I’m capable of.

  “What do you need to know?”

  “Devon’s pregnant.” I utter it with a certainty he can’t deny.

  He averts his gaze and stares at the liquor bottles lined up in perfect rows across the bar. He nods. Shame.

  “That’s a problem you probably wish would just go away.”

  “Life is a series of problems we wish would just go away. We can’t change the choices we already made,” he says quietly.

  I’m not sure what to make of his statement except that he’s definitely given Devon’s condition some thought. The finality in his words could be acceptance or regret.

  “Do you wish Devon would just go away?”

  He whips his gaze to mine, a wounded look in his eyes. “No. I didn’t say that.”

  I study him. The defensive hurt emanating off him. The way his attention tunnels toward me suddenly, unapologetically. He’s telling the truth, even if the truth is colored with shame at what he’s done—had an extramarital affair, one that’s going to produce a child out of wedlock, which may or may not turn the rest of his world upside down.

  “Someone wants her dead.”

  He stills. “Why?”

  “Because she’s getting in your way.”

  He shakes his head vigorously. “I don’t understand. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You’re mixed up in something bigger than I think you realize. And the powers that be don’t want anything tripping up what you have to do.”

  He winces. “The powers that be? I know who I answer to—”

  “And you answer to Simon Pelletier.”

  Some of the blood drains from his face.

  “You’re helping him out, right?” I push into the truth I already believe.

  He turns back to his glass of wine, not denying it.

  “Do you know about felixedrine?”

  He shows me his face again, a line forming in the space between his dark brows. “What the hell is that?”

  This guy is a real chump. He has no idea why he’s pushing this act through, other than the bribes or favors Simon’s offering him.

  “You probably think you’re doing a good thing and scoring some easy money too. It’s not like that.”

  His jaw begins to tick. “Who are you?”

  “If you care about Devon and have any interest in calling off the dogs who want her out of your life, I’m someone you’re going to help. I need you to set up a meeting with Simon.”

  He doesn’t answer, but I can sense his growing concern. If Simon knows Keegan’s turned on him, Keegan will pay dearly for it. He doesn’t understand it won’t get that far.

  “This doesn’t come back to you,” I say. “I don’t care what you’re doing. I care about what he’s doing. It
’s a lot bigger than some legislation you’re pushing through for him.”

  “You’re not with an agency?”

  “I work alone. Simon came after someone I care about. This is extremely personal.”

  He replies with a short nod. Acknowledgment.

  “He paid you?” I ask.

  He nods again.

  “How soon can you set something up?”

  “It depends. I don’t have any control over this guy. We both have busy schedules. I can’t promise anything.”

  “Call him now. Tell him there are some complications. Some big players getting in the way. I guarantee he’ll be willing to clear a path for you in no time.”

  “What if he wants names? Do I just lie?”

  “Tell him you’re not comfortable talking about it over the phone. You’d rather meet in person.”

  He curses under his breath and looks up at the ceiling like the answers are there. “I don’t know about this. My career is on the line if this goes wrong.”

  I laugh. “Really? You knocked up your mistress. News flash, your career is already on the line. Besides, this isn’t politics. This is life and death. Don’t be stupid.”

  He swallows hard. I can tell he’s wondering if it’s his life or Devon’s I’m talking about.

  “Set it up, and I’ll trust you to see Devon. Underestimate me, and you’ll be lucky to see her again.”

  With that, he slowly pulls his phone out of his pocket. His hands are shaking as he presses it to his ear. Silently I pray he can keep his composure and not sound like he’s got a gun to his head.

  Watching Devon Aguilera rush into Keegan’s arms the second she saw him should affect me differently. Everyone got what they wanted. Devon got her meeting, and I got mine.

  After I waited around the Madera another hour for Keegan to get his message through to Simon and then a call back, the two men agreed to meet at Keegan’s hideaway office in the Capitol building in two days. Of course Simon would choose one of the worst possible places. Security. Cameras. Tourists and lots of innocent people.

  Seeing Keegan rewarded for being a dirtbag who takes bribes and betrays his family only adds to my frustration. I leave the hotel with a sharp turn.

  “Where are you heading?” Makanga is on my heels as I pass through the front doors.

  “I don’t know.” I really don’t. I need time to think and plan, now that I have details to work with. I should be wholly focused on the new mission, but I’m not.

  “Red. Hold up.”

  I halt my journey to the car to face him. “What?”

  He holds his arms wide. “You on the warpath or what? I thought things were good.”

  “Everything’s fine. Make sure Aguilera disappears again after their little reunion is over.”

  “That was the plan. But you look like you’re out for blood all of a sudden.”

  My jaw ticks. “That surprises you?”

  He shakes his head, the corner of his lips lifting into a half smile. “This isn’t about Simon, is it?”

  “This obviously has everything to do with Simon.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You’re pissed off because the senator is getting laid and you’re not.”

  “Fuck you.” I resume my journey to the car, a fresh bolt of rage razoring through me.

  “She’s home, you know,” he calls after me.

  I freeze and turn back. “Excuse me?”

  He strolls toward me, closing the distance between us. “After you took off yesterday, I asked a friend to keep an eye on her house. See if they saw her coming or going.”

  I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Outrage. Anxiety. Desperation.

  “A friend?”

  “Someone who has no idea who she is or why she’s important to anyone. Calm down, Red. I’m telling you so you know. You’re wound too tight over this girl. If you don’t get your head straight, you’re going to end up making a mistake that could cost you everything.”

  I fist and unfist my hands. “Do you really think psychoanalyzing me is a good use of your time?”

  “I think if I’m putting my ass on the line for you, I need to trust that your head is in the game and not twisted up worrying about Isabel and what she’s doing. So my professional advice to you would be to figure it out. Tonight, ideally, so we can regroup tomorrow and I don’t have to worry about you busting a blood vessel over something that doesn’t fucking matter. Like Keegan’s evening agenda.”

  My nostrils flare as I attempt to rein in the verbal tirade Makanga deserves. Except the more arguments I design to prove him wrong, the more I realize how right he is. I haven’t been able to think straight without her. I’m always focused when it comes to a job. Eliminating people is what I do. I should be calculating every possible move. Every angle and opportunity. Instead, half my thoughts are reaching for the woman who’s been ripped out of my life without warning.

  I’ve devoted countless hours to wondering if she was all right. If she’s home, that means Morgan worked something out with Rivero. It’s an open door for me to find her, an invitation that’s as dangerous as it is tempting.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Isabel

  The cab drops me off in the driveway. I’ve been running my conversation with Rivero over and over again in my head, agonizing over how far he’ll take this truth-finding mission when it comes to Tristan. But the second I see my mother’s car, all I can think about is getting inside. I pay the driver and rush to the house.

  I find my parents in the den. My father is seated on an accent chair, my mother on the couch, their bodies angled toward each other like maybe they’ve been trying to breach the space between them but haven’t yet. My mother’s eyes are red-rimmed when she looks up at me. I’m paralyzed in place, unsure how to be or how to act. So much has happened, and I can’t know how she feels.

  The same hesitation seems to swim in her eyes too. Her lip trembles as she lifts from her seat and comes to me. Her palms are soft and cool against my cheeks.

  “Isabel.” Her voice is a watery whisper.

  “You’re home.”

  Finally, after two days of wondering and worrying, though I’ve put her through far worse.

  She nods. “We both are. We’re both right where we’re supposed to be.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I stayed with a friend for a couple days. I just needed to clear my head. I… I was afraid to face either of you to be honest. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Isabel.”

  I let tears of relief blur my vision. She hugs me tightly. Part of me wants to apologize back. Another part of me doesn’t want to bother with the guilt when the choices we made were made out of love. We both know it.

  My father comes beside us, embracing us both. And in that moment, I know we’re going to be okay. If they’ve survived everything else, my parents can make it through this too. Even if the truth threatened to tear us apart, if somehow it can make us whole again, bring us closer than we were before, it was worth the risk. Worth the pain.

  My mother sighs heavily and pulls back, brushing at my tears with her thumbs. “Come sit with us. We have a lot to talk about.”

  I nod and settle beside my mother on the couch.

  “Now that you’re home,” she begins, “now that we’re all together, there’s nothing left to keep us from being completely honest with each other. Morgan told me everything that’s happening with Chalys. I’m shocked, but of course, I’m not. I knew they were truly terrible people. I just couldn’t prove it until it was too late. I never meant for this to affect you the way it has.” Her eyes fill with tears again, and she struggles to take her next breath.

  “Mom, it’s okay. We know enough now. Even if we can’t stop the train in its tracks, I think we’re going to be able to make a difference.”

  “I talked to my contact at the DEA today,” my father says. “Parish is going to package up what we know about the ports and tip them off about Medina. We can start there and branch out when we know more. But he
’s on it. I think we’ll start looking into Pope next. He’s not as elusive as Simon. We might be able to trip him up more easily.”

  “That’s great.” His good news is quickly overridden by my worries over Rivero, though. “Dad, Rivero knows about Tristan.”

  He frowns. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. He ambushed me about it as soon as we were alone today. It’s like he’s determined to turn everything he doesn’t know into something bigger than it needs to be. Tristan’s hands aren’t exactly clean. Neither are mine. But Rivero seems locked into figuring out how Tristan ties into this. He knows I’m telling him half the truth, and he’s going to punish me for it.”

  “Not on my watch, he isn’t.”

  “He can cause problems for both of us. You can’t control him if he really wants to make a mess of this.”

  “We just need to keep him focused on other things. Did you hear back from your hacker friend yet? My gut tells me that’s a lead worth following.”

  “Landon has the numbers. I’m waiting to hear back, but it should be soon. He works quickly and wants to help. He’s been trying to track Simon’s movements for a while, but it’s kind of a blind spot. However he operates, he doesn’t make it easy to follow him.”

  “I’ll talk to Rivero next chance I get. Try not to worry,” he says.

  My mother takes my hand in hers and gives it a little squeeze. Being in the same room with both of them is a welcome relief, but strange too. We’ve been at odds for so long. I’ve been running from Simon’s people for even longer. The reunion with my parents heals something in my heart. But not everything. Being without Tristan with no promise of our own reunion feels like an open wound. I’m vulnerable and off-balance. My compass always points to him, except he’s lost to me now.

  “Have you heard from Tristan?” my mother asks.

  I shake my head. “Not yet,” I say softly. “I know this is the last thing you want to think about, but if things don’t go the way we want… If Rivero stays focused on Tristan and the trouble we’ve been in, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappear again. I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to come back home if I do.”