Chapter Twenty-Five
Two things happened at once. Juliet grabbed the knife from me and sawed through the last of the zip tie, cutting my wrist in the process, but managing to set me free. A second later, Atticus lunged at me, pulling me up be the hair to dangle me in front of Sayer and his army of men.
I let out a scream, tugging desperately at Atticus’s wrist to relieve the pain in my head. He clutched tighter forcing my back to bow and me to stand on my tiptoes.
“Let her go,” Sayer growled.
I knew Atticus was smiling by the sound of his voice when he replied, “You still think you’re in charge. You still think everyone does what you say because you’re some big fucking man.”
Out of the corner of my eye I watched Juliet run to the stairs where a man was motioning for her to come to him. My vision was still blurry with pain and tears, but I managed to recognize my dad peeking his head around the corner of the stairwell. Relief washed through me and fresh tears pushed to the surface.
He was such a shitty dad. Such a piece of crap. And here he was; he’d pulled my daughter to the side of this hellhole situation, and I forgave him for everything instantly. Just like that. Nothing mattered, not my childhood or his betrayal when Sayer went to prison. Nothing but what he’d done for Juliet just now.
He pulled her up the stairs with him and they disappeared, away from this mess and intense danger. Juliet was safe. That was all that mattered. Atticus could do what he wanted to me now.
Atticus pressed his cheek to mine where he’d hit me earlier making me wince. “Let’s see what kind of big man you are when I take your favorite toy away from you.” I gagged at the forceful press of his gun to the underside of my chin. “I guess in the end she wasn’t worth all that trouble, right?” His laugh was dark, full of malice, full of the sickness in his head that had defined his entire life. His body pressed against mine, closer and purposeful. He wanted to piss Sayer off as much as possible. He knew the game was over, but he couldn’t help himself. If he was going down, I was going down with him. “You should have stuck with the brotherhood, Wesley. You shouldn’t have let this bitch get in your way.”
I’d had enough. That was the final straw. I tightened my grip on the paring knife that was still in my right hand and twisted my body, dislodging the gun from beneath my chin. Without remorse or guilt, I rammed the dull knife into Atticus’s side with all of my strength.
His side was softer than the other parts of him, but I had to push with everything to get it to dig deep inside him. He stumbled back, surprised by the stab of the knife and my gall and the events transpiring.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he shouted as blood started to stain his shirt in stretching fingers of crimson. He lifted the gun and I screamed at the same time a gunshot rang through the bar.
Bodies crumpled to the ground and I slowly realized I was one of them. Everything hurt so badly, I knew I had been shot. However, when I opened my eyes, I saw Atticus lying next to me. Blood was everywhere on the floor, soaking into the wood and spreading in a slow circle toward me. It was him. He had been shot, not me. I army-crawled away from him as quickly as possible, taking mental stock of my body and any new injuries.
Picking up Atticus’s gun as I went, I managed to make it beneath the table I found the paring knife under and curled into the fetal position.
“You fucking asshole!” Atticus screamed from the floor, his voice choked with blood and agony. I sat up a little, seeing that he had been shot in the stomach. He was down, but not out. “I will fucking kill you.”
Sayer stood over him, his gun trained on Atticus’s head. “I think you already tried that.”
“You’re a goddamn traitor,” Atticus snarled. “Italians, Irish… You’re a fucking whore.”
“No more so than you,” Sayer said. “Which reminds me.” He turned to face his army of organized crime. The Hispanic men that were with him stepped forward. Cubans. They walked over to take custody of Atticus. “Your new family is here to take care of you.” He stepped back, out of their way and two of the guys picked up Atticus by the arms and shoved a black bag over his head. “Oh, wait, that’s wrong” Sayer dipped his chin, his face the portrait of revenge—“they came here to kill you. That’s why they’re here.” He squatted down so Atticus could hear him clearly. “See, your Cuban friends have been working with the Irish for years. And the Irish have been working with me from the fucking beginning. The only reason they wanted anything to do with you is because I told them to humor you. And they did. But you probably shouldn’t have made that deal with the feds. And you really shouldn’t have bargained for immunity. They’re pissed about that.”
Atticus shouted desperately in Russian. He thrashed his body, forcing more blood to gush from his wound and screamed more foreign words. Help me, he was saying. Shoot them! Save me. I’m your boss! He was dragged from the room leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Nobody moved. Nobody tried to help him. Either his men were still being held at gunpoint or they agreed that the Cubans should have him.
Sayer turned to look at me and we shared a brief but intense look. He lowered his gun so, so slowly. He didn’t believe the threat was actually over.
“Six,” he finally whispered, falling to his knees in front of me. His hands cupped my face, barely touching because of the bruises and obvious pain. My face must have resembled an eggplant by now. “Fucking hell, you scared me.”
“I didn’t know if you would get here in time,” I hiccupped, not meaning to cry, but unable to stop myself.
“As if anything could keep me from you,” he growled. “You should know that by now.”
I trembled with relief and residual fear and aching gratefulness. “How did you know?”
“He wanted me to know,” he murmured as if it didn’t even matter. “He thought I would show up with Gus and watch you die. He didn’t know I have my own brotherhood, that I made my own family. He didn’t realize how hard I would fight for you or the lengths I would go to keep you safe. He doesn’t understand that what we have is stronger than him, stronger than the bratva, this city, and the whole fucking world. He underestimated us, Six. And that was his fatal mistake.”
I crawled into his lap and ignored the discomfort so I could press myself against his body. My injuries and misery didn’t matter in light of the man that had saved me, this man that loved me so much.
Conlan appeared over us, flanked by a man with olive skin and a scar down the length of his neck, and a young Japanese man with vibrant red hair. This had to be Luca Rossi and Ryuu Oshiro. “The cops will be coming,” Conlan said, his Irish brogue heavier than usual. “We’ll talk later.”
“Go,” Sayer ordered. “We’ll clean this up.”
“They won’t trust you now,” the man that must be Luca added in a quiet voice. “You admitted to working with the feds. There’s nothing we can do for you now.”
Sayer held me closer, pressing me against his chest. “That’s all right. I’m done with this town anyway.”
“After everything?” Ryuu asked with obvious incredulity. “After all the work that you’ve done?”
Sayer smiled up at him. “I have more important things to do now.”
“Mommy!” Juliet screamed at that moment, running from the stairs to where we sat in a pile on the floor. She clamored on top of me and threw her arms around my neck. “Daddy, you came!”
Sayer wrapped his arms around both of us. “Go,” he told his friends. “Get your men out of here.”
“Goodbye then,” Conlan said, and even though I barely knew him, I could hear the finality in his voice. “Enjoy this life of yours.” Sayer released one hand to shake Conlan’s.
Luca reached down and took Sayer’s hand. “If you need anything…”
Sayer nodded. “The same for you.”
Ryuu was next. “Brother,” he murmured.
Sayer held his gaze and his hand. “Brother.”
The room exploded in chaos as the families dispersed, and Gus and Cage moved to help Frankie who had collapsed on the floor near the bar. The three families disappeared, and we were left with the remaining Russians and my dad.
Sayer eventually set Juliet and me aside, so he could stand. A giant man walked over, one that I recognized from my youth. He was older now and some of his bulk had dwindled. But he was still the hulking presence I remembered from the back of the bar.
“Bear,” Sayer greeted, extending a hand in respect.
Bear took it, a suspicious, untrustworthy look on his face. “What they say about you is true.”
Sayer nodded. “I had to protect my family.”
A small smile tilted one side of Bear’s mouth, transforming his face to a lighter, less-scary version of him. “I remember. Since you were this tall.” His hand moved to his chest area. “It’s always been about her.”
“Always,” Sayer agreed.
“You owe me a favor,” Bear said. Fear knotted my insides again, just like that. What was this gigantic man going to ask? What was he going to demand of Sayer?
Sayer seemed to have the same fear, only he hid it better than me. “I do.”
“I want the syndicate.”
I think Sayer was as shocked as I was, because it took him a moment to respond. “You do?”
“I do,” Bear said. “I want your promise that you’ll never come back. That I’m free to do what I want with it.”
“The feds—”
Bear shrugged, cutting him off. “The feds will think it’s over with Usenko’s death. They won’t bother me. They never have.”
Sayer nodded, appreciating this man’s opportunism. “It’s yours. Take it. I have no use for it anymore.”
“Leave town,” Bear ordered. “And leave the feds alone from now on.”
“Today,” Sayer promised. “You won’t see us again.”
Bear nodded. He looked down at me once as if trying to figure out what was so special about me. He didn’t get why Sayer would do what he did for little old me. He didn’t understand what he risked everything for.
He had no idea.
What Sayer and I had could not be replicated, could not be faked. This was real, the realest thing in my entire life. I had been stupid before, paranoid and doubting and afraid. But those days were over. Sayer was mine. And I was his. And this family of ours was the beginning and the end of everything for us.
The risk, the danger, the game… all of it was worth it to keep us together. I knew that now. I believed it.
And nothing would change my mind ever again. Not present dangers or secrets from the past. Not confessions or truth or lies or anything. We’d had to go through hell before I believed it, but here we were. And here we were going to stay.
Bear and his men left, leaving the six of us and my dad behind. There was blood all over the floor and a thousand terrible memories that had come from this place, but there were good memories too. And even some great ones.
And there was Sayer. He had come from this place. He had become something to me in this place. And for that reason alone, I could never hate it as much as I should.
“Frankie, are you okay?” I asked her from across the bar.
“No,” she said. “Are you?”
I laughed and it hurt. “No.”
“Are you alive though?”
Tears pricked my eyes. “We’re alive,” I told her. “And so are you.”
“Good,” she sighed, letting Cage help her stand up. “Let’s go home.”
I couldn’t have agreed more but before we could escape the premises the cops flooded in. Their guns were raised and they shouted all the cop things that they were supposed to, terrifying Juliet all over again.
We went through the motions of raising our hands in the air and lying face down on the floor. Juliet cried and screamed for me the entire time, but I knew this time she was safe at least. Shortly after our Miranda rights were given to us, the feds walked in, Mason Payne leading the pack. He got the cops to back off and we were able to stand up and start the arduous process of getting through this day.
The paramedics attended to us first, while Mason got the cops to back off. Then we were given rides to the police station since his office still wasn’t in working order. Juliet clung to me the entire way and as much as my hurting body would let me, I clung back.
Three hours later, I was alone in an interrogation room with Mason while Sayer and Frankie watched Juliet somewhere else in the building.
“Are you going to arrest me?” I asked point blank. I didn’t have the energy to play games anymore. I just wanted his answer.
Of course, Mason wouldn’t give it to me. “Should I arrest you?”
I sighed and laughed and started to cry a little. Clearly, I had a rough day and needed to be put to bed. “Yeah, maybe. I’ve done a lot of crazy things, Mason, but you already know that.”
“Then let’s not talk about what I already know,” he said gently. “Instead, let’s call this an exit interview.”
I looked at him in a whole new light. Sayer had already had his interview. Actually, everyone had already been interviewed. I was spoken to last to give Juliet time to calm down. Now, here we were. After all this time, after our long history of cat and mouse, we were finally at the end of our relationship.
“Okay,” I whispered, ready and grateful to end this. And grateful to Mason for all he had done for Sayer and me.
He tossed his pen on the table and leaned back in his chair, looking completely relaxed for the first time since I’d known him. “You’re heading back to Colorado today?”
“At the earliest opportunity,” I told him honestly. I was done lying to Mason, done manipulating him and evading him. We could be honest now. We could even be friends.
Maybe.
Okay, that was probably pushing things too far. I would settle on not being enemies.
He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re never coming back?”
“That is the plan.” I smiled. “Never ever again.”
He smiled too. “Are you glad it’s over?”
“More than you will ever know.”
He shook his head, disagreeing, but it was gentle and friendly. “No, that’s not true. I know. And I’m glad it’s over too.”
I thought of Bear taking over leadership and what he could do with a skeleton collection of men, but I didn’t mention that to Mason. Maybe I wasn’t one hundred percent done lying to him.
“We’ve been through a lot,” I commiserated instead.
He held my gaze. “We’ve been through hell.”
The weight of our pasts pressed down on my shoulders, feeling like a million pounds that I wasn’t strong enough to hold. “True.”
“You deserve some happiness, Caro,” Mason said, and it sounded sincere. “You deserve the freedom you’ve worked so hard for.”
“You too,” I told him. Our freedoms had different definitions, but I knew he’d been working for a version of one too. Whatever had made him so singularly focused on the bratva was dead now. He could move on. He could live his life free of that burden.
His eyes crinkled with sadness and I second-guessed myself. Maybe his loss meant that there would never be freedom. Justice maybe. But not freedom.
“Be safe,” he said in a deep voice. “Stay out of trouble.”
I smiled, and it felt like I’d never smiled before. “For the rest of my life.”
“And keep an eye on your dad, okay? I don’t want to hear about him ever again.”
I stuttered, my heart jumping in my chest. “M-my dad?”
“Sayer said you’d keep an eye on him. That’s probably a good idea.” He paused for a second before leaning in to say, “You know there is a rumor going around that he’s the reason the Volkov gave you Juliet back when they did. He bargained himself for her sake.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest and spread to each of my limbs. Sayer had always hated my dad. Hell, I had always hated my dad. I supposed we all needed new beginnings. Sayer had gotten one and I had gotten one and now we’d let my dad try.
Frisco would be better for him. Maybe the mountain air would clear his head and give him a new perspective on life. Plus, there was Juliet. He’d saved her. Now maybe she could save him.
I softened thinking about him working hard to get Juliet back to me. “The first bet he ever won,” I murmured, more to myself than to Mason.
We sat there in thoughtful silence for another minute before I asked, “Aren’t you going to ask me about Atticus?”
His eyes twinkled again, banishing the pain and sorrow from his past. “He was found dead in his house a few hours ago. We’re investigating the circumstances now. We suspect a totally unrelated cartel was involved, but if you have any information that you’d like to—”
“No,” I answered. “I have no idea what happened.”
He nodded. “I didn’t think you did.”
After another prolonged silence, I said, “You’re a good agent, Mason Payne. I obviously have no respect for you, but I’m sure your coworkers do.”
The corners of his mouth lifted and he held my gaze. “You’re a good thief, Caroline Valero. And sometimes a good person. I obviously, have no respect for you either, but I’m sure there are people out in this world impressed by what you can do.”
I laughed at this game we were playing. “Make sure you keep those Russians locked up. You know, to prove how good you are at doing your job.”
He winked. “I will. Now that I have that decoy file back, it will make this court case go a little smoother.”
“Decoy?”
“Did I say decoy? I meant the one with the tracking device in it.”
Shaking my head at him, I asked, “Should I take credit for your deviancy? Or does it come naturally?”
He rapped his knuckles on the table before standing up. “Oh, I’ve probably learned a few things along the way, but I can’t let you take all the credit.”
“No, you probably can’t.”
He walked me to the door and led me to my family and friends. We gathered our things and left Mason Payne behind for the last time. After the quickest stop at Sayer’s house to grab Juliet’s favorite blanket, we headed straight for the airport and bought the first available tickets to Denver.
We were searched by airport security and given about a hundred dirty looks because of our appearance, but none of that mattered. We were going home and that was all I cared about.
I had no idea what happened to the weapons that Sayer, Cage, and Gus had used. But they were gone now, and Juliet was asleep, and I was sitting next to the man I loved on a plane headed straight home.
I leaned against Sayer’s shoulder with the unbruised side of my face and curled into him. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For getting our daughter back and taking us home alive.”
He kissed the top of my head tenderly. “I’ll always come for you, Caro. You’re going to have to make it clear to me if you ever want me to stop. Because I can’t.” He pulled back so I would look into his striking blue eyes reflecting nothing but truth and honesty and the depths of his soul. There were no secrets left for him to hide. “I don’t know how to let you go.”
“Don’t,” I pleaded with him, emotional tears pushing at my eyes once again. “Please don’t ever stop. Please don’t ever leave. I love you, Sayer. I will always love you. Whatever happened in our past, whatever is in our future, it’s you and me forever.”
His face gentled, warmth and satisfaction washing over his features. “Forever, then,” he promised. “This is the beginning of our forever.”
He sealed it with a kiss, pressing our lips together in a way that was soft and careful because of my injuries, but also ferocious and permanent. This man was everything to me. He was my friend and lover. My savior and soulmate. He was the beginning and the end. He was the reason for everything and any hope I had in the future.
We had a rocky, rough past. But we had a beautiful future ahead of us. There would be no more danger, no more fear… no more lies or deception or cons. It was just him and me for the rest of our lives—and Juliet of course.
And I had never been happier.
I had never been more confident in my choices and in the man I loved. I had never been more confident in the future he would give us.
He was my constant, the rock that everything else was built. And I loved him more than I ever knew was possible.
We had made bad choices. We had paid the consequences of our dangerous lives. But now we would live in the constant freedom of this love we’d carved out for ourselves.
The confidence game was over. The rest of our lives would be lived in truth.
And love.
And on the right side of the law.