Page 39

Chapter 39

Liam

T here was a bra on the bathroom floor this morning.

I’m not sure why this tidbit of knowledge is still rolling around in my head four hours and a truck ride later, but it is. I’ve seen a bra or two before. It’s just a scrap of fabric. Although the part of me responding at the thought has not gotten the memo.

Thick pine needles coat the path I’m on, and I’ve counted each step since leaving Fleur in the truck. Something, anything to get my mind off of her in the bath a few nights ago.

More than her alluring body beneath the water, I was drawn to her story. I want to pound her ex’s face in the pavement for what he did to her. It’s tempting to Google the guy and pay a visit to Michigan—I hear it’s nice weather this time of year.

The night turned into pure comedy when she drew a picture of me. It was awful. The entirety of my face was made up of four shapes. But, hell, did it bring me more laughter in that moment than I’d had in years.

Agent Wilson lifts a hand in my direction, a half wave, half robotic movement that makes me wonder if this man spends much time in the field. With the way his eyes keep darting back behind him, I’d guess not much.

This is one of three dead drop and meet locations we preestablished after I took this mission. Scouting areas while under Darrin’s supervision was not easy but all three of these give the best cover and are the most out of the way without being questioned for going too far.

“This is the second time you’ve brought her.” Wilson motions to Fleur sitting in the truck.

Her legs are propped up on the dash, feet crossed, and I can practically hear the gum she is blowing into bubbles from here.

Without thinking, I smirk.

“I told you not to get involved.” The fall wind crushes his words into a murmur, but I hear them all the same.

“I’m not.” I turn to face him, pinning him with a stare I give Blitz most of the time when he pisses me off.

“We got word of what went down several nights ago. Boss man says we aren’t waiting much longer.”

I freeze, a piece of my hair slapping me in the mouth, and I cross my arms, annoyed. “What do you mean you aren’t waiting much longer?”

“It was Raven, right?” he asks.

I fish out the black bandana from my back pocket and toss it to Wilson. He fumbles with the fabric as it hits his bureaucratic suit shirt before spreading it open to reveal Raven’s signature “raven” in the middle. To the average person, this is only a bandana with a bird on it, but Wilson and I both know that around the ankle of this bird is a cuff, thick and damning.

“Raven,” Wilson says. “How did Darrin take it? Is he rattled?”

“He’s pissed. We lost a guard.”

“No. Darrin lost a guard,” Wilson spits. “It’s important to remember that. Regardless, with Raven’s attack, it changes things. The task force believes we can’t wait much longer before Darrin spooks and moves his operation.”

Move? I raise my brows, looking back toward the truck once again. I catch Fleur watching me, her eyes narrowed on Agent Wilson with such intensity I almost laugh out loud.

“Liam.”

I snap my gaze back to him.

“With the attack, we believe the Cartel will intervene. They’ve invested too much time and money dealing with Darrin, and they aren’t to be screwed with. If we don’t move soon, we run the risk of them coming in and eliminating everything for themselves. We’ll lose our leads into the network.”

“Leads I’ve provided over the years,” I growl. “Come on, do you really think this is the best time?” I take one more glance back at the truck, my ability to stay focused waning by the second.

I’ve worked for this. To bring Darrin and his crew down with the possibility of giving Ruin its town back, its leaders back. Now, selfishly, I don’t want the mission to end. Thoughts of Fleur finally being free from under Darrin’s threats on her family should bring me joy. Should, but it doesn’t. Instead, I can barely swallow the thought of losing her even though she wasn’t ever truly mine, was she?

“It’s close, Parker.” He nods over to the truck. “We can get her out now if you want. Say the word and we’ll pull her into holding. You won’t need to blow your cover with her, if you don’t want.”

I consider it, despite it being the easy way out. I could arrange for Wilson to pick her up, pretending it was right from underneath my nose. She’d be safe.

There’s no way I can admit it was an option all this time. Was it? Could I have gotten her out without risking her parents to Darrin’s wrath? Is my soul so far gone I twisted this whole predicament to spend more time with her—to know her?

“I’ll tell her. What’s the timeline?”

“Two to four weeks.”

“That’s too vague. Do better.”

Wilson sighs, running a hand through his head of hair. “That’s all I know for now. Check your phone often, if you can, and watch yourself. Darrin isn’t going to let anything go unnoticed after what happened.” He extends a hand toward me, shakes my hand, and slips a small piece of paper into it. “When the time comes, text the current gate codes to this number.”

Without a word, I pull my hand back, new instructions crumpled within, and shove it into my pocket. I turn back toward the truck and work to keep myself from running there—to throw it into gear and whip off to a place where no one can find us.

I need to text my grandparents.

Back at the truck, I pull open the door to find Fleur’s elbows propped up on her legs, her head resting on the glove box in front her. Her eyes flutter open as she sits up, grumbling about nearly being asleep.

“Done?” She yawns.

I smile, reaching over to squeeze her thigh. “Yeah, I’m done. Ready?”

“Yes. I’m starving. Can we stop to pick up some snacks on the way home?”

I falter, eyes unblinking as I stare at her mouth and replay the words that came out of it.

Home? Does she think of my cabin as home?

Trying not to let her claim on my cabin get to me, I nod and turn back on the main road. Back toward home.

My conversation with Wilson was the first thing to disappear from my mind while talking with Fleur on the way back to the compound. She has an uncanny way of making me forget everything going on around me. A distraction indeed.

Watching her take in the surrounding areas around Ruin, her eyes filled with wonder despite the drive being one we’ve taken several times now. It never gets old for her, which in turn, never gets old for me.

Daily, I battle the desire to tell her I’m in this for the long haul. Annulment of our marriage is not something I want to agree to. But doubt whether I’m the best man for her creeps in, and I question what I could possibly offer her at this point.

Driving around the pines leading to the compound gate, her hand is stuck out the truck window, windsurfing. Her hair, though braided over her shoulder, still thrashes over and around her beaming face.

My phone beeps as we reach the gate, and I check the text while our new guards motion us back through and secure the lock behind us.

I glance at the phone in my lap.

Be at the clubhouse break room in 10. Alone.

I shift in my seat, annoyed I’m leaving Fleur back at the cabin yet again. This is no life for her. A better man would take Wilson up on his offer.

Fleur says she ran away, but I see something different. I see a woman who ran toward a new life. One without a cheating boyfriend. I see a brave woman, intent on making over a run-down farmhouse because she wanted to teach herself something new. A selfless woman who will do anything to keep her parents safe. This isn’t a girl who runs away.

In fact, I’m grateful she wasn’t able to confront her ex. Men are notorious for manipulating women. Gaslighting them and making them feel as if somehow their disrespect and inability to remain loyal was their fault. Fleur running out of that house and never looking back gave her two things she needed immediately: distance and Ruin, Mississippi.

I’ll admit it worked to my advantage as well.

Pulling into the tiny-ass driveway next to the cabin, I say, “Darrin texted and needs to meet. Hopefully, I won’t be long.”

She turns from where her gaze is out the window and offers the biggest smile to me.

In my line of work, nothing fazes me anymore. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected, roll with the punches, and never freeze up in a stunned reaction—but Fleur chucks it all out the window.

Her smile, so different from the terror in her eyes in the cell, punches me in the gut. I don’t care what Wilson says, this woman is mine.

“I’m going to make some chili. If that’s okay? With the weather changing slightly, I’m itching to hurry fall along.”

I chuckle. “This is the South. True fall is a ways off.”

She pouts and I reach over to pull her lip down with my thumb. Her eyes darken, which instantly makes me want to say screw Darrin and his cryptic meeting text.

“Hurry back,” she says, grabbing her bag of jerky, and hops out of the truck.

After watching her enter the cabin and close the door, I pull back out of the driveway and head to the clubhouse. All is quiet, and I stomp through the dining hall and down to the break room.

I’m not prepared for what I walk into.

The tension in the room is palpable. I can taste it in the first breath I take. My eyes widen at the sight of the three men standing in front of a seated Darrin, Blitz and Trip off to his side.

Raven, his second Drake, and …

And …

Adam.

He stands tall, flanking the other side of Raven, his dark hair tussled and longer than how he normally wears is tightly trimmed. Instead of his usual attire of flannel or polos, he sports tan cargo pants and a black tee.

What the hell is going on? Mentally, I calculate how I’d fight my way out with my brother in tow. Are they using him to get to me? Why is Raven even here?

Adam lifts his chin and sniffs, diverting his eyes when he sees me come in. Raven, on the other hand, watches me like a predator sizing up his prey. Except the bastard doesn’t know who I am and what I can do.

“This must be the well-known Liam,” Raven spits, glancing between Adam and me. “I dare say, you two look nothing alike.”

“What is this?” I ask Darrin.

“Raven wanted to stop by for a meeting. Apparently, he has some new employees.”

It’s then I notice it—the raven tattoo newly inked on his forearm, the skin red around it. Lovely. The first ink little bro gets is under the employ of this drug lord.

This is where he got his money then. He ran to Raven’s crew. After all I’ve done to keep him out of this mess, to settle the score placed against him with Darrin, he turns and climbs up Raven’s ass.

Part of me wants to pummel him right here. My family’s relationship is strained because of him—my mother can’t stand me, and he’s thrown all I’ve done for him in my face. The other part of me wants to shoot Raven between the eyes for getting his hands on my little brother.

“Wrong move,” I say, staring at the bird.

“Oh, please. It’s not like you aren’t enjoying your position here,” Adam snorts, his voice shaky. “You talk like this life you have is intervening for me, but your soul is as good as tarnished now.”

He might be right about my soul, but the idea I’m only here for him at this point has sailed years ago. I’m here for a bigger purpose, and Darrin looks at me, the eyes I’ll never get used to boring into my skull. At least I hope no one truly knows.

“Brotherly spats. Invigorating.” Raven speaks like he’s from another time and it’s eerie as f?—

“I doubt this is why you came here, R. Get to it,” Darrin snaps.

Raven pulls a hand through his blue-black hair, the hue as if he has an azure light hovering above him at all times. Although his eyes rival the color of coal, the man is ghostly pale. It’s a sharp contrast to the deep V-neck shirt he wears, revealing the delicate curves of a lily tattoo inked across his chest.

“I want in,” he says.

“In what?” Blitz counters

“Your network. Word around town says the DEA is sniffing close. You need the numbers, D.”

A drop of sweat rolls down my back, wicking away at the band of my pants.

“You know I don’t have that authority. The Cartel dictates those brought in. They haven’t been too happy with you.” Darrin smirks and I wonder how he’s keeping calm standing near the man who sent men to attack us only several days ago. I, for one, do not have the patience for this game. At the mention of the DEA and rumors circling, I cringe. Our window is closing.

“See, I think you have more pull than you let on.” Raven shuffles on his feet, shoving both hands in his pockets. A linked chain dangles from his right pocket, and it clinks with each rock back and forth.

Panic sets in and I swallow the lump in my throat. Raven’s desire to get in with the Cartel is not something on our mission radar. He’s always been the contender, the rebel to the network. Noncompliant. Darrin always said Raven hated the idea of men from outside the country running things.

“I don’t.” Darrin says it calmly, but I don’t miss the tick of his jaw or the tightening of his fists on the arms of his chair. Rage simmers beneath, and I know he’s considering his options at this moment.

Killing Raven would not earn him any favors with Raven’s men, and he has many. But I won’t let him touch my brother, no matter how stupid he was for pledging alliance to a man worse than Darrin by far.

“Perhaps …” Raven drawls. “Perhaps I should stop by and have a chat with River. How is she doing these days?”

Darrin stills. His gaze levels Raven, all pretense stripped away.

I’ve never asked River. Never cared to. However, there was always a taut line that pulled through her when I spoke of Darrin. It’s the same one barely holding D together right now.

Whatever the history, Raven knows it.

“I’ll reach out to my contact.” It’s all Darrin has to say, and the high tension is ripped from the room.

“Good man,” Raven says, smiling. He looks around, admiring the break room. “Looks like business is good. My men were impressed with your setup .”

A snarl curls at my lips and instinctively I step forward.

“Liam.” Darrin’s stand down command is woven in the way he says my name.

Raven continues to bait. “Would be nice to see your new establishment as well. I’ve always admired your ability to juggle both sides of the business.” He chuckles, amused with himself.

Blitz rolls his eyes and pulls his phone out. “Are we through with this shit?”

I can’t stand Blitz, but I could kiss him right now for saying what all of us are no doubt thinking.

“Paying customers are welcome anytime,” Darrin says as he stands from his seat.

What the hell?

Darrin is not friendly with Raven. Seems like the comment about River has made him flexible .

“Tonight then. Show us around.” Raven slaps Adam on the shoulder and he flinches. It takes everything in me not to grab Raven’s arm and twist until a loud pop fills the room. “It’ll give our new guy here some time with his brother and his new wife .”

Adam’s eyes flick to mine and they narrow into slits, all but a growl emitting from him, and he looks down on me in disgust.

I shake my head. I’ve given everything for my brother, and he hates me for it.

I won’t apologize for Fleur, for the feelings I’ve grown into. She brings new purpose and drive to my life, stretching it beyond a mission, beyond only being good for saving my brother and disappointing my parents.

While I’m unsure about how she feels for me, I’ve been more balanced than I have in my life with her around. There’s nothing else I want to draw—I can’t—it’s always her. Capturing the light dusting of hair on her arms, or the few freckles on her back that match those on her face. Each detail I cling to and record in my drawings, hoping to retain any and all information about her.

Darrin offers a slight nod to the three men invading our space and with that, Blitz and I bolt from the room. Disappointed in D would be an understatement.

Cicadas punctuate the warm evening, their whirring sound a chorus of annoyance the entire walk back to the cabin.

Inside, it’s quiet, and I notice a pan of brownies on the stove, a forkful missing from the corner. After cutting myself a generous square, I hunt the small space for Fleur, peeking in to see her curled up on my bed, sound asleep.

Driven to her, I down the chocolate dessert in two bites and gently sit on the bed next to her. Breaths steady and smooth, her mouth twitches in the slightest movement as I pull a strand of hair back out of her face. She sighs long and hard, nuzzling the pillow.

I don’t want to leave her tonight, not again, and most definitely not for the Raven to play a few wimpy-ass games of poker.

I turn from her, sliding my elbows down to rest on my knees, and bury my head in my hands.

Wilson told me not to get involved. Maybe I should’ve listened.