Chapter Nine
“You make her sound like some cyber ninja.”
Aggie couldn’t wait to meet “not a mobster” girl in person. Despite everything that had happened, she’d slept well and was in a better frame of mind. Knowing that Ten was a few steps down the hall made her feel more secure.
The painkiller she’d taken had probably helped matters. Her shoulder and ankle still ached, but she was in much better shape. Aggie figured she might’ve stretched, but not torn the ligaments in her leg. She was relieved, since being fast on her feet, might keep her alive.
“She is, and I think you might like Vick.”
They were in his SUV driving across town. Ten had been cautious when they left his home. He’d spied out the windows and brandished his gun while they traversed the short distance to the car. Aggie had pulled her weapon too, but nobody had been watching the cabin.
“I’m sure I will.” Aggie couldn’t stop herself from sneaking a peak at him.
Something had changed last night and she wasn’t certain what to make of it.
Ten was different than the rest of the men she’d screwed and then forgotten, but she didn’t know where this was headed, if anywhere. Attachments were way too complicated.
Soon, they pulled up at a sprawling mansion.
Dixon Wolf, the man who owned it was probably a mobster, like Ten, although he hadn’t offered up the information.
Business seemed to be booming because the place was swanky. Maybe she’d been working on the wrong side of the law. Evidently being a bad guy paid pretty well.
The house had a Southwestern hacienda look with a courtyard and a red tile roof. They parked near an ornate brick wall bordered by a fountain.
“Come on, let’s head inside.” Ten led the way and Aggie followed him.
They passed a collection of clay pots and long, thin shrubs lining the walkway. The turquoise front door was massive and ornate, possibly antique. A detailed cross was carved into the surface and looked like it belonged in one of those old-time Spanish missions.
When they got inside, a curvy girl stepped into the foyer with a headset on. She swung the microphone away from her mouth.
This must be Vick.
“I’m almost done with my phone call. Wait in my office, I’ll be with you in a minute.” She paced across the floor while they headed down the hallway.
The rest of the house looked like it belonged in Mexico, but Vick’s office was eclectic and funky. One wall was done in chalkboard paint, and she’d doodled all over the surface—reminders, hearts, and such. A black and white rug covered the tile floor. The desk had a black kitty face painted in the center. More cat drawings decorated the walls, paintings with splashes of bright red and neon pink.
Hmph. No wonder Ten likes her.
They sat side by side in front of her desk. He wore another luscious suit this morning. This one was navy blue, and she had the urge to touch the linen lapels. She loved the way Ten dressed, so formal.
She’d been forced to borrow one of his button-down shirts since hers had been blood-spattered. Before going to bed, she’d rinsed the blood out of her bra, more or less, and hung it over the shower curtain in the bathroom. There’d been a couple spots on her jeans, but she’d washed them out as well.
He’d promised to run her over to the house after they met with Vick, so she could get a few things. Ten also wanted to survey the damage, and Aggie imagined it would be in shambles. She also needed to retrieve her purse and other valuables, assuming no one had broken in, of course.
Vick breezed in and sat at her desk. “Hey there, I’m Vick and you must be Aggie.”
Aggie nodded. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Where’s Dix?” Ten gestured to another closed office door.
“Out for the moment, so we should get started, because I’ve got some terrible news.”
Ten sighed. “You couldn’t trace the phone.”
“Nope.” She slid it back across the table. “It’s your garden variety dollar store terrorist phone. Whoever bought it, paid cash and it was purchased six months ago, so I can’t even hack into the security footage.”
“It’s gone?”
“Yeah, if the stores have digital video, it’s usually erased from the hard drive if there are no unusual incidents to free up space. And if they have actual tape, they record over it to save money.”
Evidently being a cheapskate interfered with fighting crime.
“Why was it bought so long ago?” Aggie asked.
Vick shrugged. “I’m thinkin’ they might’ve bought a batch of them at one time. Maybe there was a sale?” She glanced at Aggie uneasily. “Our bosses buy phones in bulk, so we can toss them whenever necessary.”
“Regardless, we know who made the call,” Ten said.
“Yes, Santiago.” Her nostrils flared. “You weren’t really specific. What do you want with him?” Vick arched a brow. “You’re not working for him, are you?”
Aggie was about to set her straight when Ten took care of it for her.
“Hell, no. Let’s put it this way, I’d like to shut him down.”
Aggie pointed to Vick. “That’s where you come in. According to Ten, you’re an amazing hacker, so maybe you could help us pinpoint his location.”
“Compliments rarely work on me.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Besides, he’s difficult to pin down. I’ve already tried and got a big ol’ goose egg.”
“So you can’t find him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Vick glanced at Ten. “You know Byron wouldn’t like this.”
“I got the same warnin’ from Mossy and Jasper, but what he doesn’t know…”
Vick snorted. “Fine. There’s another, riskier route I can take, someone like Santiago is gonna be under surveillance—NSA, CIA, FBI.”
“Is there a way to find out who’s been trackin’ him?” Aggie asked.
“Of course there is, but I’d have to hack into several databases and break a few federal laws in the process.” Vick examined her fingernail polish like a cowboy checking his saddle.
“Can you please help us?” Aggie didn’t know where else they’d turn if this didn’t work. None of their other leads had panned out.
“I don’t mean to be unkind, but why should I? I’m damn good, but there’s a chance one of those agencies will catch me sneakin’ into their databases.”
Evidently, Ten hadn’t been forthcoming with all of the information. Aggie didn’t know Vick, but she seemed like a decent human being, not at all the sort of person who worked for mobsters. All Aggie had to do was appeal to her scruples.
“Because Luna and Maria don’t have much time left.” Aggie pulled out their picture and slapped it on her desk. Please let this work on her too. It was easy to decline when the children were abstractions, but it was more difficult once you saw their faces. “We believe they’re about to be sold to the highest bidder unless we stop Santiago.”
Her lower lip trembled. “He took them?”
“No, one of his henchmen did, but the result will be the same,” Ten said. “Accordin’ to Diego, there’s gonna be a big auction. We need to discover when and where it will be so we can rescue them.”
Aggie intended to take care of Santiago, once and for all, during the process.
“Can you do it?” Aggie asked.
“Am I not the hackin’ queen?” Vick cracked her knuckles and then started typing away on the keyboard.
Aggie offered up a silent prayer. This has to work.
***
Ten went slack-jawed when he saw Aggie’s place.
Everything was busted all to shit—splintered wood, windows shattered, dishes cracked into a million pieces. She’d only survived by some miracle. She’d told him what had happened, but it wasn’t the same as seeing it with his own two eyes.
“Tell you what, pack your things, while I board up your windows.” Ten would head down the street to the hardware store and grab some cheap plywood. He had a hammer and nails in the trunk too, although he didn’t use them for carpentry purposes.
“Why? What’s the point? It’s a total loss.”
“You don’t need thieves addin’ to your troubles.” Anybody could walk right in here and help themselves. “While I’m at it, I’m gonna secure your doors.”
He wondered why she didn’t seem more shaken up about this. Most people would feel afraid or violated and yet she had an absolute calm, surveying the damage with a blank expression.
Ten didn’t experience the world the way most people did, and yet her composure unsettled him. He’d mastered suppressing his emotions, controlling them. The only one he indulged in these days was anger. He found it gave him an edge at times in the course of his work duties. But Aggie hadn’t lived through the same kind of trauma, so her reaction shouldn’t have been so blunted.
Something’s very wrong here.
And yet he didn’t know how to have a conversation with her about it. So, he worked on her windows instead. At least he wouldn’t screw that up.
After he’d dealt with the kitchen and living room, Ten took a break. He found Aggie sitting on her bed with two stuffed duffel bags next to her.
“Um, how are you?” Ten asked gently.
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Her brows drew together. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“Let me try this again. Why are you okay? Most people would be—”
“A hot mess?” she offered.
“Yes, but you’re pulled together.”
She took a deep breath. “I suppose I should come clean with you. When I was attacked, I got this rush.”
“What do you mean?” Ten didn’t like the sound of it.
Aggie shook her head. “I don’t know, the danger was exciting, and I felt switched on or somethin’, almost as if it wasn’t real, like I was playin’ a game.”
Ten had come across adrenaline junkies before in his military unit, but he didn’t think Aggie was one of those. No, he was missing a vital piece of information. Ten just sensed it.
“What am I missin’ here?”
Aggie glanced down at the floor. “Since we’re startin’ to share with one another, I should let you in on a secret.”
“What is it?” His stomach clenched.
“I’m dyin’.”
“You’re sick?” He scrutinized her but saw no signs of illness. Other than the wound on her shoulder and a slight limp, Aggie appeared to be in perfect health.
“Not yet, but I will be.”
“I don’t follow.” He sat beside her.
“Have you ever heard of Huntington’s disease?”
“No, what is it?”
Aggie offered him a lopsided smile. “It’s an incurable genetic disorder I inherited from my mother. Put it this way, I won’t make it to fifty.”
Ten wondered why he didn’t figure all of this out sooner. This must be the secret she’d been keeping. No wonder Aggie had an edge and did whatever she damned well pleased. She already knew she wouldn’t make it to retirement age, so what’s the point in being careful?
“Can you tell me more about it?” Ten wanted to get her talking, see how she framed this situation. He needed to understand where she was coming from.
She swallowed. “Before I check out, I’ll get sicker each day. I’ll slowly lose control of my motor functions, my speech will slur, and then, I’ll have trouble walkin’, eatin’, even cleanin’ myself. At the very end, I’ll lose my memory, have seizures.” Her voice got hoarse. “It’s not a pleasant way to go.”
Aggie scrubbed a hand down her face after she finished. There was no trace of emotion, like Aggie was trying to disconnect from the situation.
“You said it was genetic. So your mother had it too?”
“Yeah, so I got a preview of my future.” Her tone was bitter and Ten didn’t blame her. “A while back, my mom finally talked me into getting’ the genetic test. After I got the results, I knew I wouldn’t have the life I wanted, so what’s the point in wantin’ anything?”
Ten understood where Aggie was coming from. “I get it. If you don’t have anythin’ to lose, it can’t be taken from you.”
“Exactly.” She nodded. “See? You’re the first person who understands. I don’t see the point in pursuin’ a serious relationship if I’m gonna widow my husband and pass on this disease to a child. Would you take that chance?”
He shook his head.
“Right, so I’m doin’ the responsible thing, and this ends with me.”
“I’m not sure what to do here. Would talkin’ about it help?”
She thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”
“What did you do when you found out?” Ten couldn’t even imagine how she’d dealt with the situation.
It must’ve been a shock. Ten had learned to keep his expectations low, and he’d had years of practice in denying himself—love, a home, the comfort of a woman. He only recently purchased the cabin, and it sometimes frightened him. What if he lost it in a fire? Or foreclosure?
“I lost it. I’ve been on this ‘you only live once’ kind of binge, but it’s not as much fun as you might think.”
Ten didn’t judge her for the choices she’d made. If he found himself in similar circumstances, he might have done the same thing.
“And when an attempt was made on your life…?”
“I felt exhilarated, not scared, at least at first.” She clasped a hand over her mouth. “Ironically, that part frightened me.”
“I’m gonna ask you somethin’ and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but does a part of you want to die, and just get it over with?”
Ten had dealt with his own death wish for years. When things had been the bleakest, it had been his only means of escape. At night, when the world was quiet, he used to contemplate ending it all, dragging a sharp piece of cement across his throat or wrist. He’d held back every time. For some reason, he’d never been able to go through with it.
Tears welled in her eyes, and he felt like an asshole. Ten didn’t have any practice comforting other people, but he held out his arms and thankfully, she slumped into them, resting against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back, waiting for her to speak.
“I don’t know if I want to die, but I can’t stand having this hangin’ over my head. It’s like I can’t think about anythin’ else.”
“I understand.” He’d felt trapped before, waiting for that rusty old door to creak open and his next torture session to begin. He’d known it was coming eventually, and he had no means to stop it.
“I think about dying all the time, and when I picture my future, it looks miserable. I know how this movie ends, what’s the point and hanging around to watch the tragedy play out?”
She was shaking in his arms, and he held her tight, trying to give her some of his strength, letting Aggie know in a wordless way she wasn’t alone.
“Know what’s awful?”
He shook his head.
“I was angry with my mom for a long time. Can you imagine? For puttin’ me in this situation, for giving birth to me. What kind of person—no, what kind of daughter does that?”
“I understand. Whenever you’re dealt such a terrible hand, you wanna blame somebody.”
“And here I am blubberin’ in front of you.” She knuckled her eyes, wiping away the evidence of her breakdown, trying to be strong again.
“Seems to me, you got reasons to cry. I’m not dying, but I know what it’s like to lose hope.” Ten forced himself to continue, to get the blasted words out. “At one point, I only wanted it to end. I just wanted it over. I couldn’t stand any more pain, or fear, or degradation.”
She pulled back to face him, and he missed the contact.
It was a revelation.
Normally, he didn’t like people in his personal space. The one exception was Smokey, but she wasn’t a person. Somehow, he knew it was safe to be close to Aggie.
“I’m such a coward. If I were brave, I’d face this head on, instead of tryin’ to dull my senses.”
“I’d use a lot of words to describe you—brave, tenacious, beautiful, but coward ain’t one of them.” She was courageous, bold, and he admired her grit.
She sniffled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, but don’t confuse bravery with carelessness. Don’t make the Grim Reaper’s job easy, okay?” He took her by the shoulders. “Give that son of a bitch hell, Giselle.”