Page 76 of The Illusion of Power (Passion and Politics #1)
Cal’s assurance makes Jacob and the woman laugh, and I hate them both so much in that second that I find myself, once again, caressing the trigger of my gun, wondering if shooting Jacob would give Cal enough time to get the jump on the woman.
His weapon is only a few feet away from him, and she doesn’t look particularly fast. He could probably put her down before Jacob’s body hits the floor.
Knowing it might be our only option, I decide to give it a try. Cal’s eyes go wide, and at first, I think it’s because he doesn’t understand what I’m about to do, but then I feel it. The cool press of metal against my bare scalp.
“Lower your weapon.”
My heart sinks, and the dread coiling in my gut takes precedence over the satisfaction swelling in my chest at the sound of Charlie’s voice.
“I knew your story was bullshit,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“Didn’t stop you from coming here, though, did it? ”she asks, applying more pressure. “Lower your weapon, Beck. I won’t tell you again.”
Selene whimpers when I let my gun fall to my side.
Any semblance of hope is sucked out of the room as Charlie removes it from my shoulders, dropping it outside the door before rounding on me with a conniving smile on her face.
With her gun still pointed at me, she backs further into the room, stopping at Jacob’s side to kiss him, which makes the woman behind them grimace.
Her scowl has no match for the one on Cal’s face, though.
“Seriously, Monroe? You’re going to betray your badge and sworn oath for this asshole?”
Righteous anger coats every syllable of his questions, and I know the emotion stems from somewhere deep inside of him.
When Cal and Charlie met, she was a young agent with potential only he saw.
He mentored her, helped her find a path where her skills would shine.
This betrayal isn’t professional, it’s personal.
Somehow, though, it isn’t surprising. Not to me, anyway.
We’ve seen this happen before: undercover agents getting entangled in the organizations they’re supposed to be investigating, forging friendships and, more often, romantic relationships that blur the lines between their cover identity and their duty.
I know for a fact that Charlie isn’t the first undercover to get caught up in the snare of one of the Brothers.
Leland had a knack for converting agents, and it’s clear he’s passed that skill on to his son.
Charlie pulls away from Jacob, turning just enough to look down on Cal. “I’ve made a new oath. I’ve pledged my allegiance to the people who would never abandon me, who would never promise to always have my back and then forget all about me the moment the next big promotion came along.”
“Oh, for fucks sake, Charlie,” I groan. “Don’t try to make this bullshit about us leaving the Bureau.”
She glares at me. “I didn’t give a fuck about you leaving, Beck, but Cal—” she turns back to him, shaking her head “—we were supposed to be family, and you tossed me to the side like I was nothing.”
Jacob snakes an arm around her waist. “You know I would never do that to you, baby.”
Her gaze is soft when it finds his, and she leans into his embrace. “I know, Jake. From the moment we met, you saw me, the real me, and you loved me for it.”
“That’s fucking right, baby.” Jacob smacks her ass, and once again, the woman who’s name I still don’t know scowls.
Charlie hasn’t noticed, and Jacob doesn’t seem to be paying attention to it either.
They’re both too busy telling the tale of their sordid love story, detailing how Charlie told Jacob who she was less than a month into the assignment, regaling us with the disgusting details of how they fucked in the pool of blood belonging to the person who brought her into the fold.
Apparently, they killed him together.
Selene looks like she’s going to be sick, and while I hate the idea of her experiencing any kind of discomfort, I’m not concerned about that right now.
The only thing I care about is the obvious disdain on the woman’s face as she looks at the couple.
It’s clear to me that she’s bothered by their affectionate behavior, which, in my mind, can only mean one thing: she’s jealous.
I don’t know how to use that to my advantage yet, but I’ll figure it out.
“Where’s Harris?” I ask, inching forward just to see how much attention the three of them are paying to me. Charlie is the fastest of them all, stepping forward to put herself between me, Jacob, and Selene.
“Harris is dead, and you’ll be laid out beside him in just a second if you don’t step the fuck back.”
Lifting my hands in surrender, I do as I’m told, walking backwards until I collide with the wall. It’s not good enough for Charlie.
“Get on the ground,” she says, gesturing toward the floor with a wave of her hand.
I lower myself down slowly, catching Cal’s eye and then Selene’s just for the comfort of their gazes.
Both of their faces are masks of stoicism, but their eyes reveal so much.
Their anger over the situation and the gun in my face.
Their fear and love for me. I return everything they give me in silent spades, praying the last time I got to show them and tell them wasn’t actually the last time.
It’d be a cruel twist of fate to have loved so significantly twice in my life, only to be robbed of the chance to actually say goodbye both times.
I hadn’t known with Diana. I can’t even remember if I kissed her before I left for work that morning, don’t recall if I took the time to palm her belly and feel Cameron kick before walking out the door.
That’s how preoccupied I was with catching Valinsky, how big of a rush I was in to put cuffs on him.
That same urgency has surrounded every stolen moment I’ve had with Selene and Cal. There’s been no time to savor, to feel, to truly appreciate what we have. We’ve rushed through everything, including our reluctant departures from each other, and now we’re here.
I bring my knees up, resting my arms on top of them while Charlie checks her watch. “It’s almost time, Jake. Do you have the streaming link ready?”
“It’s all set, baby,” he says, crossing the room to the wall of monitors and screens that were more than likely used for oversight on the production floor.
He’s rigged the majority of the screens to display the feed of cameras throughout the factory, which is how he was able to see Cal and me as we approached.
The screen in the lower right corner of the display is black, but it comes to life when Jacob sits down at the desk and wiggles the mouse.
Now, it’s showing a timer that’s counting down to when he’s going to kill Selene.
There’s a little over ten minutes left on the clock, and my heart rate triples while Selene watches her time on this Earth dwindle down with wide eyes that show no relief when the screen glitches and then flickers off.
Jacob drops his gun, banging his fist on the desk. “The fuck?”
“Is the internet down again?” Charlie asks, glancing between Jacob, Cal, and me.
She knows us well enough to know that we’re watching their every move, waiting for an opening.
With Jacob’s gun out of play, it’s a great time to try something.
Assuming that’s where my head is at, she puts her back to him and does a wide sweep of the room with her gun.
“Don’t move a fucking muscle.”
Cal holds my gaze for a second, pulling me into one of our infamous silent conversations while Selene stares at the screen Jacob is still trying to get back online.
With nothing but my eyes, I tell him that brute force wasn’t my plan, and he nods subtly, signaling that he’ll wait for me to put what I’m thinking into motion.
“So you brought us here to watch you fail to live stream her murder?”
I aim the question at Jacob, or even Charlie, but to my surprise, it’s the woman behind Cal who speaks. Her tone is icy and filled with contempt. “No, Agent Beckham, he brought you and Agent Drake here for me.”
“And who exactly are you?” Cal asks, stealing the words from me.
His inquiry only seems to anger her more, and I flinch as she slams her gun into the back of his skull not once, not twice, but three times.
Selene’s screams of protest are muffled by the tape over her lips, but it’s evident to everyone that she’s not happy.
I’m the only one who cares, though, the only one who sees the single tear escape her eye as Cal hits the ground with a thud.
The woman smiles, lifting her foot to step on his back. Then she looks at me. “My name is Leigh Anne Davis. My brother was Chester Davis, and one of you—” she gestures between Cal and me “—killed him in cold blood.”
“Cold blood suggests a lack of cause,” I explain, lifting my chin so I’m looking her square in the eye. “I had plenty of cause when I killed your brother.”
It’s a risk, this confession, but I have to take it.
I have to hope my instincts about Leigh Anne being emotional and, thus, irrational, are spot on.
She presents as a textbook wildcard. The weaker personality that easily gets lost in a trio with people like Charlie and Jacob.
The one who will do anything to stand out, to be noticed, to get her point across.
A wildness takes over her eyes the moment she processes my words, and in seconds, she’s trying to cross the room to get to me. Charlie stops her with an arm to her chest, struggling to hold her and keep the gun focused on any one place.
“Leigh Anne, you stupid cunt. Don’t let him get into your head.”
She thrashes against Charlie’s hold, clawing at her arms. “Don’t tell me what the fuck to do, bitch. I want him dead! Jacob brought him here for me to kill him.”
“Jake, tell her to calm the fuck down.”