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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sutton

“ I ’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t,” I begged, hating that my oldest friend had done nothing but repeat the apology for almost the entire walk to the guest cabin.

As soon as we were in the living room, I positioned her in front of me and scanned over her.

Old bruises tinted her face and neck. Her arms under her sleeves were the same.

“I wanted to tell you,” she said softly, and I looked at her with tears in my eyes. “But all these women were going missing, and I could help. I didn’t want to risk?—”

“I know.” I took her hands in mind, my voice trembling as I turned over her right hand and revealed her matching wasp tattoo. “I know.”

“They said you carved ‘PIG ’ into Jack’s chest.”

I don’t know why, but it made me laugh. “I did,” I admitted. “I wanted everyone to know I was coming for you.”

“Oh, they knew.” She chuckled.

I winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She squeezed my hands. “Thankfully, they were all too afraid of…him…to touch me.”

“Shazad…”

She nodded silently.

“Were you at that warehouse the whole time?”

“In that cage,” she confirmed and let out a shaky breath. “After I heard them talking about the attack on Jack and what happened to him, I knew it was you. That’s why I sent that message to Rob to protect you.”

“But then you sent that other address…”

“That was where they planned on taking me until my buyer got to town, but after they came for you and ended up with three men dead, the man—Carson—took me. I don’t think he trusted them to keep me safe for Shazad, and I think they were too worried about the risk to Jack, though I don’t understand why.”

“The Straw Sandal of the Wah Ching is Jack’s uncle,” I explained. “That’s why he got away with so much. Why they kept him close but never let him in.”

Her mouth made a small “o.”

“Mara…” I swallowed. “What happened at the warehouse? With Remington?”

Her eyes flashed. “He saved me,” she said without hesitation.

“Did he…hurt you?”

“What?” she gasped. “No. Why would he?”

My brows knit together. “Did he tell you who he is?”

She was silent for a beat. “He said he was a private consultant…that he was trying to eliminate not only the man who bought me but the men who were selling me.”

Damn.

“That day, after he rescued me from the warehouse, he took me to a house on the bay. There was a doctor waiting. Food. Clothes. It was…I couldn’t believe it.”

“But he kept you there?”

“No, I mean, I said I would stay.”

“What?” My breath rushed from my chest.

“After he told me who he was—what he was there to do—he asked if I would be willing to help him,” she told me. “I didn’t need to do anything. He just asked if I could answer some questions for him.”

“Questions about what?”

“About what I’d overheard while I was held by the Wah Ching. About the man who’d taken me and put me in a cage—Carson. If there was anyone else I saw at the warehouse and could describe. He asked dozens and dozens of questions about what I’d seen and heard while I was there.”

“And he never told you you couldn’t leave?”

“No.” Her throat bobbed. “He said he would take me to you as soon as I said the word.”

“But you wanted to help…”

Her jaw hardened. “I wanted to do whatever I could to take those men down.”

I gave her a tight smile and then hugged her again, heaving a deep breath as I held her close. This time, she was the one who drew back first.

“Who is he, Sutton?”

I grimaced. “Damon Remington is a criminal. He’s at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted List.”

“What?” She jerked and shook her head. “No…I don’t—I can’t believe that. He saved me. He was so…nice. So concerned.”

And a good liar, I thought, but kept the words to myself. There was no point in arguing about his character now. Mara was safe, and Remington would soon be in custody.

“Do you want to eat? Shower? Take a bath. I can bring you some clothes to change into and some food?—”

“Is this where you’re staying?” She took a moment to look around.

I tensed. “Not this cabin, no.”

Her brow furrowed, and then, like a thought suddenly struck her, her eyes went wide.

“You’re staying with him, aren’t you? The man outside who protected you.”

A lump formed in my throat, but I’d never lie to her. Not about this.

“Tynan,” I told her. “He is…was my dad’s best friend.” My tongue slid along my lips. “And I’m in love with him.”

She let out a cry, quickly clapping her hands over her mouth to try to stifle it before she wrapped me in another big hug.

“I’m so happy for you, Sutton. After everything…” She sighed. “And I think I’ll take you up on the bath.”

It took me a few minutes to get her settled in the bathroom with everything she’d need for a good, long soak in the tub, but as soon as I did, I fished out my cell phone and opened a message to Rob.

For some reason, I had this feeling that neither Tynan nor Dare had the opportunity to let her know what happened. Or that there was a wolf in the henhouse.

Mara is here.

What? I’m almost there.

Mara was brought to the garage ten minutes ago. She’s safe. No major physical injuries.

The mental and emotional ones had yet to be determined.

How? Was brought there? By whom?

Damon Remington.

Tynan

“Any chance you have a good single malt scotch?” the world’s most wanted criminal drawled casually from where he sat zip-tied to a chair, not unlike the Straw Sandal of the Wah Ching gang had been a few weeks ago. “I find whiskey makes these conversations go a little smoother.”

“There is no conversation, Mr. Remington. We don’t make deals with the devil.”

The way he laughed sent a chill down my spine. Not because it was dangerous or menacing, but because it sounded like he pitied me. Like he knew something we didn’t.

“Then what do you plan on doing with me, Mr. Bates?” He crossed his legs.

“Hold you until the FBI gets here,” I said, catching the slightest ripple of tension on his smile.

“If the FBI takes me, you’ll have no chance at taking down Belmont and Amir Shazad.”

I stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you, I’m here to help you.”

Dare shook his head. “You want to take them down, you help the FBI do it.”

“I’d rather not. I find I’m not very trusting in the bureau’s ability to discern criminals from conspiracy and even less so in their ability to hunt down the former.”

I folded my arms and moved closer, about to tell him too fucking bad, but Dare spoke first.

“Fine. Let’s say we play along and play nice. What could you possibly have on Belmont that would help us bring him down? And if you have it, why haven’t you used it?”

“The information I have is only pertinent now that the Shazads are stateside.”

“They are?” Dare rumbled.

“Then what is it?” I refocused the question.

Remington smiled. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.”

“So, you want us to help you with information that you have but can’t tell us?” Dare scoffed. “Bullshit.”

“I told you, I’m here to make a deal,” he said slowly, the lightness leaching from his voice. I got the sense that this was the moment he’d come here for. Whatever was about to happen was the keystone of his planned surrender. “I will tell one of you?—”

“Okay. I’ll go, and you can share this magical secret with Dare?—”

“No.” Remington didn’t even pause. “Not one of you two. I will only tell Robyn DuBois.”

There were graves that held more noise than the garage at that moment, and the look Dare sent me, it was almost as if he wasn’t surprised by the request.

The door banged against the wall, drawing all of our attention to the woman who’d entered.

Robyn.

And she looked…infuriated. Her red hair gleamed like liquid fire in the bright lighting as she strode toward the man in the chair, her gun aimed at Remington even though he was clearly restrained.

But it was the look between them that shocked me—a look of furious familiarity.

“Robyn.” Remington’s voice took a different tone, the kind you have when you finally find something you’ve lost.

“Dare, call the police,” Rob ordered, ignoring him. “Get the FBI here?—”

“He says he has information on Shazad?—”

“Then he can tell them,” she interrupted Dare.

“He said it will bring down Belmont, too,” I rumbled.

Rob stiffened, the pause she took to consider it only momentarily before she shoved away the temptation. “This man will say anything to get what he wants, and most times, it’s not the truth.”

“But sometimes it is.” Remington joined the conversation, his voice low and steady like what you would use to try and calm a skittish, wild animal.

Rob’s jaw locked, and her finger inched toward the trigger. “Dare, go call them. Now,” she ordered, and this time, her brother obeyed.

Remington’s jaw tightened, but his eyes never strayed from the woman in front of him. “It’s been a long time, Robyn,” he drawled. “You look good.”

“Tynan, you should go,” Rob said in warning, her eyes glazed and locked on the man in the chair. I knew that look. I’d felt that look. I’d harbored that look.

It was the one a predator gives to its prey.

And suddenly it became very clear that even though this man was labeled as the world’s most dangerous criminal, Damon Remington wasn’t the apex predator the world believed him to be. He had a natural killer, and she was standing right in front of him.

“I didn’t expect you to want some time alone so soon.”

“Fucker,” Rob hissed and stalked toward him, her finger twitching on the trigger.

“Enough.” I reached out and grabbed her wrist and twisted, forcing her to release her weapon. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’m not letting you murder him in our garage.”

She hissed and yanked her hand away. “Fine. Then I’ll question him unarmed, but still alone.”

“Rob…”

“I need you to leave,” she said low, and maybe it was just me, but I heard her begging tone. “Please.”

I stood still, searching for any other option, but there was none. Remington was one thing, but going up against Rob’s will was another.

“You have two minutes. Don’t be stupid,” I warned.

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve already been that,” she said cryptically.

Two minutes.

I was going to check on Dare and give her two minutes. I didn’t trust the look in her eyes with more. I fished out my phone as I left the two of them in the garage, firing off a message to Harm just in case Dare hadn’t already broken the news.

“The FBI are on their way,” Dare said as soon as I stepped into the hall. He was just coming out of the office.

“Great,” I muttered, heavy on the sarcasm.

“I don’t like this.” He stopped in front of me.

“How do they know each other?” I asked, having this feeling like he knew something.

“I wish I knew.” He folded his arms, his expression pained.

Before I could say anything else, there was a loud crash from inside the garage.

“Dammit.” Not even two fucking minutes.

I whipped the door back open, Dare following right behind me.

“Robyn!” I shouted, seeing Remington on the ground, his chair tipped over. Rob stood over him, shaking her hand by her side.

She glared at us. “You said two minutes.”

“And you said you wouldn’t be stupid.” I hauled the man and the chair upright, a shiner already starting to form on the side of his cheek.

“FBI is ten minutes out,” Dare told her, his eyes whipping over the scene.

“Shit,” Robyn spat. “Call them off.”

“Call them—you told me to call them,” he growled. “I told them Remington was here. There is no calling them off.”

Remington cleared his throat. “I guess you should untie me then so we can get out of here.”

“Whoa, hold the hell up. She’s not going anywhere with you,” Dare said and looked to Robyn to confirm.

Anyone in their right mind would confirm. He was Damon Remington. The king of the FBI’s most wanted. Criminal consultant and mastermind.

And that was why everyone’s collective jaws dropped when Robyn ordered low, “Cut him loose.”

I pulled out a blade but made no move to use it.

“What the fuck? You’re not going with him, Rob. I won’t allow it. Harm will kill me?—”

“I’ll be fine,” she snapped and grabbed the switchblade from my hand, cutting the zip ties at his feet before anyone could stop her.

“Not my hands?” He arched a brow.

“Not a chance.”

“You should just tell them,” Remington said smoothly, his dark eyes almost dancing as he watched her.

“Let’s go,” she snarled, holding the blade like she was ready to use it on other parts of him with only the slightest provocation.

“Tell us what?” I stepped in front of her, blocking her exit—and blocking her brother from shaking the daylights and the truth out of her.

“Let us go,” she demanded low.

“Not without good reason.”

“Trusting me isn’t enough?” she snapped again, and my jaw twitched.

“Not anymore.” I stood my ground. She’d fought on her own for so damn long, and we’d let her. Part of this was on us, but no more. Not after I saw how fighting alone had almost broken Sutton. “You’re not doing this alone anymore, Robyn. And I’m definitely not letting you walk out of here to fight a battle with only him on your side.”

“I promise nothing will happen to her,” Remington said and stepped forward, about to reach for Robyn, until Dare’s hand swung out and caught him by his collar.

“And why should I believe the word of a criminal?” Dare snarled, his temper showing.

“You shouldn’t,” Remington replied calmly.

“Don’t—” Rob spun and threatened, but it was too late.

Remington smiled and added, “But you should believe the word of her husband.”

There was no time for questions or answers or even a full understanding of what and how that was possible. The only thing that mattered was Rob’s chin dropping like a gavel and the guilty look in her eyes when we waited for her to deny it.

But she didn’t. Couldn’t.

Somehow, some way, Robyn was married to Damon Remington. And now, the rest of us had no choice but to do as she asked.

“I’ll contact you when I know more. Until then, don’t try to find me. It’s not safe,” she said softly and then looked to me. “Tell Mara I’m sorry.”

In the next minute, they were in her black Mercedes Coupe, tires squealing as Remington floored it down the drive.

“What in the actual fuck…”

I grunted, echoing his sentiment, and then clipped, “A question for a later time. Right now, we have to come up with some explanation for the FBI.”

“She’s married to Remington?” Sutton stared at me several hours later, her eyes unable to go any wider.

“Apparently,” I grunted and pulled her into my arms.

She tipped back, her eyes scrutinizing me. “And you just let her go with him?”

“First off, I’m pretty sure she was prepared to cut anyone who tried to stop her,” I drawled.

“And second?”

I sighed and dipped my head. “He has no intention of hurting her.”

“He’s a criminal,” she protested. “You can’t know that.”

I reached up and cupped her face. “Oh, I can.”

“How?”

“Because he looked at her the way I look at you.”

I savored the sharp pull of her inhale and the way color rose to her cheeks. “And what way is that?” she murmured, already tipping her mouth up to mine.

“Like now that he’s found her, he’s never letting her go.”