“Don’t let it,” he snaps. “Or I’ll come yank you from the grave.”
“While I appreciate the power of a command given by Liam Stone, I’m the only one who knows where the cylinder is. If I die, it’s gone. If I don’t come back, tell Amy to look for our father and Tombstone. And no, I’m not foolish enough to bury it in my father’s grave.”
“Amy will understand the clue?”
“It’ll take her some time, but she’ll figure it out if she has to.”
My cell phone rings, and I dig it from my jeans pocket, glancing at the unknown number. “If this is Rollin, he’s either listening in on his father, or Sheridan immediately called Jared.” I hit the Answer button and hear “Hello, Chad.”
The sound of Rollin’s voice slithers down my spine, grating my nerves, and not just because I hate the bastard—also because, with this quick response, I’ve proven my theory about Jared and lost the last shred of hope of his innocence. “Dead man walking,” I say. “How’s the zombie apocalypse going for you?”
“Better than it has been for you lately. Sell to my father and I’ll keep coming for you. Sell to me and I’ll kill my father and go away.”
I go along with his silly, worthless ploy. “I hate you, you bastard, but you do know how to make a deal appealing. How much?”
“Five hundred million. Enough for you to disappear for good.”
“You don’t have that much money.”
“My buyers do,” he assures me.
“Half up front, and half when your father’s dead.”
“When and where?”
“You know where. You were obviously listening in on your father’s phone call. Same time. Same day of the week.” I end the call and redial my China connection, relaying to him my plan to trap Rollin. When I disconnect, I inhale and look around the room. “It’s done. Two days from now—Thursday night at sunset—we deliver Rollin to the Chinese. Gia and I will arrange a flight and leave in the next few hours.”
“Don’t you dare get killed,” Amy exclaims, throwing her arms around me. “Don’t you dare.”
“I love you too, sis,” I say, and my gaze connects with Gia’s over Amy’s shoulder, and in her eyes I see understanding. She knows where my head is and what I intend. I didn’t make a promise I can’t be sure I can keep. I love Amy, and I love Gia. I will fight for them with my life, but I am still no hero. I set up this meeting with Rollin for a reason. I believe he set that fire in my house, and that he killed Gia’s father. I plan to find out the truth. And if I’m right, I will be his Grim Reaper.
TWENTY-ONE
TWO DAYS LATER, and only two hours before my meeting with Rollin, Chen has rejected the meeting site I picked, saying it’s too open and impossible for a sneak attack, but I’ve convinced him I have a plan. One I can’t share with Gia without putting her in danger. In the meantime, I pull the new black Jag Gia helped me pick out the day before up to the door of the Jasmine Heights restaurant that had once been my house. Leaving my coat behind, my black short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans are my only protection from the near freezing temperature and light, cold drizzle. It doesn’t stop me from rounding the hood of the car. But I am not seeking a way to hide from the heartache that is this place for me. I simply want to feel and remember every last second of this moment.
I open the door for Gia and she pulls the hood of her parka up as she stands and steps into the wet chill of a gloomy evening, frowning at the sign above the restaurant. “Red Heaven? What a strange name.”
“Sheridan owns it. This is where my house burned down.”
“Oh, God.” Her hand comes down on my chest. “Chad. I’m sorry. The name. It’s—”
“Fire and blood and death.”
Her fingers curl in my now damp shirt. “Why are we here?”
“Back where it began, sweetheart. A place to say I’m sorry. To say good-bye.”
“You want . . . to go inside and eat?”
“No. I don’t.” A black sedan pulls up beside us. “That’s Coco. You’re going to get in the car and stay with her until this is over.”
“What? No. I deserve to see him die.”
My hands go down on her arms. “You do. I know. But as I stand here, where my parents were burned alive, I am begging you to do this for me. Her expression crumbles. “How am I supposed to not worry and wonder what’s happening? You could end up dead.”
Coco walks toward us, dressed for battle in cargo pants and a black jacket, which I have no doubt hides a number of weapons. Good. I want her armed. I want Gia safe.
Gia follows my gaze and whirls on Coco. “I’m not going with you. I heard you helped save my life, and thank you, but not today.”
Coco just looks at me and hands me a package. “That’s a wire,” she says. “We’ll be able to hear everything going on.”
“That’s not good enough,” Gia argues, turning to me, her parka hood falling down. “I want to be there.”
My hands go to her face. “You’re going to park a mile away from the meeting spot and wait for me on a private jet that’s waiting to take us to Dallas. The pilot is a friend of Tellar’s and Coco’s. Coco is my backup. If she hears a problem, you’ll stay with the pilot and you’ll be on that plane.”
“What about Dr. Murphy?” she demands as I lead her to the passenger side of the sedan.
“We got her a bodyguard,” I assure her.
“You planned this and didn’t tell me. You’re such an asshole, Chad.”
I wrap her in my arms, cupping her face. “An asshole who loves you, Gia. I need you to know that. I love you.”
Tears pool in her blue eyes. “I love you, too. Asshole.”
I smile and kiss her. “Now go. I want you out of here.” I open the door to Coco’s sedan and have to force her inside. She stares up at me, willing me to let her out. I hold the door shut while Coco joins her and quickly revs the engine, backing the car out of the parking spot.
I watch her until they’re gone, and then return to the Jag to grab a black jacket, sliding it over my shoulders. My gaze lingers on the “Red Heaven” sign once more before I start walking. Entering the building, I stop at the hostess station, aware of the rows of booths and the long wooden bar with televisions overhead, but in my mind I see my home. I see walls and couches and the kitchen table where Amy and I talked on the night of the fire. I see stairs where there are none, and flames.
I walk to the bathroom and put on the wire, exiting to claim a booth. I go so far as to order a burger and fries, buying time for my presence here to be the bait for the enemy I’m seeking.
And just that easily, faster than expected, even, I hook my fish. Rollin sits down in front of me, thinking he’s throwing me off my game, when this is my game.
He arches an arrogant dark brow. “Imagine meeting you here, like this.”
“Imagine,” I say, my tone sardonic, my fingers twitching to be around his throat. I want to kill him.
“Needed a walk down memory lane before the big meeting?” he asks, sounding amused, his voice a bit raspier now. His skin is more tanned. The wrinkles around his black, soulless eyes are deeper.
I mentally talk myself down, sticking to my plan when I walked in this door. “Nice suit, Rollin,” I say, noting the expensive fabric. “Guess you aren’t out of that money I gave you quite yet. You were disinherited, and needed the cash.”
He smiles, and it’s evil, a wicked twist of his thin lips. “It was a good gift you gave me that day. My father didn’t even know about the meeting, but he would have kept coming at you. He would have figured out you gave me the cash.”
“So you killed my family.” Somehow my tone is flat, unemotional, but the knife on the place setting is far too near my hand considering how much I burn to kill him.
“I do what I must.”
I want to kill him. I want to be that Grim Reaper. But Chen made it clear that if I act on my own, he pulls out. I inhale and let it out, asking, “And Gia’s father? Was he on your ‘must’ list???
?
“He was on my father’s ‘must’ list, and killed too soon. My father thought Rex had what we wanted. Turned out you got there too quickly. So,” he says, tapping the table, “we’re here. It’s warm inside. Let’s just do the exchange. I have the cash in the car.”
I lean forward. “I came here to say good-bye to my parents. I wasn’t foolish enough to bring the cylinder. It’s being delivered to the drop site.”
“Well then, I guess we’ll have to drive there together.” One of his suited goons stops beside the table, shoving back his jacket to flash a gun. “Let’s go, shall we?”
“Not yet. I haven’t had my burger, and you aren’t going to shoot me without that cylinder.”
“Okay. You eat, and we’ll shoot the next customer that walks in the door.”
I throw my hands up. “Fine. But the cylinder won’t be there until the set time.” I push myself out of the seat and Rollin’s goon shoves me toward the back door.
My lips twist at the predictability. This is what I want, what Chen wanted when we set this trap. I walk down the hallway, toward what I know is a deserted, graveled back lot, with little to no lighting. I step outside and into the headlights of a car, shoved and forced to right my footing. Straightening, I find three men forming a line in front of me, and when I see Jared is one of them, my blood boils.
His eyes meet mine, and he doesn’t blink or look away. He is just here. With Rollin. Without remorse for his actions. “You fucking traitor,” I spit.
“It was time for this to be over,” Jared calls out.
“It’s time for you to be over,” I say, launching myself at him, only to have the two men beside him draw their guns.
“Careful,” Rollin says, moving to stand in front of me. “We don’t need to get bloody when we’re playing nice.”
“If he stays, there is no deal.”
“Five hundred million says you can tolerate him,” Rollin says, and he’s barely spoken the words when engines roar in the near distance, and we are suddenly swarmed with motorcycles manned by men in ski masks. There is a crazy rush of activity, and then everyone in Rollin’s group has a gun at his head and is being shoved into a car.
One of them grabs Jared, and I shout, “Wait!” crossing to stand in front of him.
“Why? Why did you do it?” I demand.
“I didn’t want to, man. It was a bad hack, and I ended up in trouble.”
“With Rollin?”
“No. It was a setup and they held me captive.”
“You let them.”
“I tried to set you free by just giving them what they wanted.”
“You believe that, don’t you?”
“I was protecting you.”
“Oh, really? Well, I’m not protecting you.” I wave to the man holding him and turn away, walking toward another man waiting for me at the door.
“Documents,” he says.
I reach in my jacket and hand them to him. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“Whatever we want to happen to them.”
I inhale and let it out, not sure why I care what happens to Jared. But I do. I open the door and walk inside Red Heaven.
Gia and Coco walk in, having been alerted by the Chinese when it was safe.
Gia rushes to me and hugs me, and I hug her back. “Is it over? Is it really over?”
My cell phone rings and I quickly answer it to hear Chen’s voice. “Turn on the TV behind the bar.” The line goes dead.
I grab Gia and motion Coco forward, grabbing the remote the bartender has left on the counter. Switching channels, I find an image of Sheridan being walked out of his offices in cuffs. The caption reads: “Oil mogul and associates arrested on suspicion of selling U.S. secrets to China.”
I turn to Gia and my hands come down on her arms. “It’s really over.” I pull her to me and kiss her fast and hard, needing that connection with her, before I take her hand and lead her toward the door. Stopping at the door, I take one last look at my past. It’s gone, but it will never be forgotten. And as I face forward, leading us into the night, it’s with the hope that Gia, the woman who has made me whole again, is my future.
GIA AND I talk to Liam and Amy on the way to the airport, relief and some uncertainty in all of us. It’s midnight by the time we arrive in Dallas and make our way to a hotel for the night, planning to go to the property I own the next day when we can stock the kitchen and make it home for a few months. Still being cautious, I check us in with fake IDs, not ready to call this over until we have a few months behind us and a long-term plan to deal with the cylinder in place.
Once in the room, we order room service and Gia strips to her T-shirt and panties while I go down to my boxers. We’ve just finished eating when the news reports that Rollin has been captured after an anonymous tip regarding his location was received, along with proof to connect him to his father’s illegal activities.
“Oh, thank God,” Gia sighs. “I thought they were going to kill him, and I really didn’t want blood on our hands.” Her brow furrows. “But no word on Jared. You’re sure the Chinese took him?”
“Yes,” I say grimly. “They took him, but unfortunately he wasn’t a part of the deal we made with the Chinese. He’s a smart manipulator, and I wouldn’t put it past him to negotiate his life for his services.”
“How bad is that for us?”
“We can’t know, and I don’t like loose ends. Even Meg’s disappearance bothers me, though I’m of the opinion she outlived her use and Rollin got rid of her.”
“Rollin’s proven he places no value on human life.”
“Greed is dangerous, and it changes people. Case in point: Jared.”
“No,” Gia says, her hand sliding to my leg. “Jared just showed his true character, the same way you did when you made the choice to protect the cylinder rather than take the money and run. I hope this lets you see that you aren’t the monster you believe yourself to be.”
“I believed he was the good one out of the two of us. Some part of me wants to believe there is more to Jared’s story, like there was to mine.”
“Maybe—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I saw the look in his eyes. He’s not the man I thought he was, and we need to protect the cylinder once and for all. I think I have a solution.” I show her the hotel notepad I’ve been doodling on.
She glances at it and gives me a curious look. “Circles inside circles? You were drawing those on the plane, too.”
“A perfect circle,” I explain, “unbroken by being protected by many layers.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
“The loose ends make the urgency to protect the cylinder greater. My idea is to create a circle of people all over the world, a diverse group from all walks of life. Each has one piece of the puzzle, and passes that piece down through generations.”
“How would we pick the people?”
“Good question. Obviously, we need to think through criteria and a vetting process. And we need to do it sooner than later. We bought time with what happened today, but the circle will take time to develop, and we need to be aggressive about making it happen.”
“Agreed, but in the meantime, I was thinking on the plane—you are the only one who knows where the cylinder is.”
“If anything happens to me, I made sure Liam knows what to say to Amy. She’ll find it.”
“Which is better than no clue at all, but anything that’s linked to Amy is dangerous for her. And Amy and Liam are always together. What if something happens to him? What if we place the clue in a sealed envelope, and pay an attorney to mail it to certain people in a certain order if we’re out of touch for more than a certain amount of time? So maybe Liam, then Amy, and if neither of them are alive, Tellar?”
I give her a slow nod. “That’s a good plan. Yes. It needs some logistical thought, but it works. We’ll pick some random attorney in Kansas or some crazy location no one will think we’d even consider, and set it up
.”
“Good. That makes me feel more secure until we set up the Circle of Trust.” She gives me a tentative look. “Chad. I want to know where the cylinder is. It’s my father’s work. I just . . . I want to know.”
“What you don’t know, you can’t tell.”
“Don’t do that to me. Please. I’m begging you. If anyone suspects the cylinder exists, they’ll come after me anyway. And if they make me talk, you’ve given me a clue that leads to Amy. Amy is safer if I know. Nothing should lead back to anyone but you and me. No one else can be allowed to get hurt by this. We’re a team now, Chad. You and me. We battle this. We take the risks.”
She is brave, selfless, and I swear I fall more in love with her in this moment than in the moment before. Everything inside me wants to protect her, but she’s right. When I gave her that clue, I already took her to a new place in this story. I pull my computer from my suitcase and clear the table to power it up, pulling up images of a small cemetery in Glenwood Springs, Colorado.
“A cemetery,” Gia murmurs.
“Yes,” I say. “This cemetery is in a small town; it literally sits in the middle of a cluster of houses in a middle-class residential neighborhood.” I enlarge a specific gravesite. “I buried it there.”
She blinks and reads the tombstone. “Doc Holliday?” She gives me an incredulous look. “You buried it with Doc Holliday?”
“My father and I loved the movie Tombstone, and we went to the gravesite during a road trip years ago.”
She shakes her head and then starts laughing. “You’re crazy. I’m with a crazy man. No one else would think of this.”
I lie her down on the bed and rest my arms by her head. “I have a lot of Doc Holliday in me, sweetheart, and he’s a wild card.”
“I guess I’m in love with a wild card, then.”
“Well, then, as Doc Holliday, or rather, Val Kilmer, said in Tombstone, ‘I’m your Huckleberry, baby.’ ” And I fully intend to turn the laughter that is her response into a sigh.