Amy Bensen 04 Unbroken (10 page)

AN HOUR LATER,
Liam, Tellar, and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating pizza. We’ve left a message for Chad, and Josh has promised to do whatever it takes to get Dante on board. From there we get lost in replaying every moment we’ve ever spent with Jared, looking for times he’s lied, proof he might have outside interests beyond the CIA.

“All I know,” Tellar concludes, finishing off a bite, “is he’s after the cylinder. They’re all after that damn cylinder, and getting Dante in place is going to be a relief.”

Liam agrees, and I reach for the phone next to him to try Chad again. He covers it and my hand with his. “We’ve called twice, baby. Stop fretting. He probably got the message and changed phones.”

I swallow the knot in my throat. “I know. I just want to hear his voice.” And I wonder if there will ever be a day I won’t fear he is dead.

“And you will. But right now his silence is best for everyone involved.”

The buzzer to our front gate goes off and Tellar pulls out his phone to look at the security camera feed. “Simple black sedan.” He stands and walks to the small intercom on the wall and flips it open. “Can I help you?”

“It’s Josh. I come bearing gifts.”

My brow furrows. “Should he be here? Doesn’t that bring attention to our relationship with him?”

“We have our interactions with Josh covered with business,” Liam says, lifting his chin at Tellar. “Let him in.”

“I’ll go greet him,” Tellar says, punching the button to open the gate and moving toward the door.

Liam glances at his watch. “I didn’t expect to see Josh an hour before his party.”

A thought hits me and I reach for the phone again. “We didn’t tell Chad about Jared. We should leave him another message.”

“So he can charge over here to defend you?” Liam asks. “That could be exactly what Jared was after.”

“He wants Chad, or any of you, to make a mistake.”

At Josh’s voice, I look up to find him standing at the edge of the island with a tall, fit man in his early forties, sporting silvery hair, standing next to him. Both men look devastatingly handsome in tuxes.

Liam stands and I join him. “Coming here with Dante is a mistake,” he says.

“The windows are tinted and the car and plates can’t be traced,” Dante assures him. “I don’t make mistakes.”

Respect slides over Liam’s face. “Good to know,” he says, stepping around the table to greet him. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Mr. Liam Stone,” he says, his voice slightly sharp, his features sharper. “Prodigy, protégé, billionaire. I expected arrogance.”

I laugh and everyone looks at me. “Well, he
is
arrogant,” I say. “But he’s a good person.”

“I’ll confirm that,” Josh comments. “Arrogant prick, but a good man.”

Tellar joins us, standing beside Josh. “No comment. I have to see him every day.”

“Good thinking,” Liam states dryly.

Abruptly Dante’s attention falls on me. “Amy Bensen,” he says, his gray eyes calculating, intelligent. “You, I admire. Six years on the run, on your own, and it didn’t break you.”

“Running wasn’t what was hard. It was not knowing what I was running from. I want that to end.”

“Control,” he says.

“Yes,” I agree, and there is a sense of understanding between us.

“Why don’t we sit,” Josh suggests, holding up an envelope. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll find interesting.”

Liam motions to the table and we all sit down, Liam and Tellar at the ends of the shiny black dining set, while I claim the spot next to Liam. Dante and Josh take the middle seats across from each other, with Dante to Liam’s left.

“I’ve brought Dante up to speed with the immediate situation and hired him,” Josh begins. “He knows we’re protecting a secret. He knows it could impact the world. He knows about Chad. And finally, he knows we want him to be in that inner circle.”

Dante glances at Liam. “Something we can discuss in detail, once we get past your immediate situation.”

“Which is more complex than you think,” Josh adds, opening the envelope and tossing a picture on the table.

My lips part in shock at the sight of Meg and Jared standing together on a street. Liam pulls it toward him, studying Meg in her dark wig and glasses. “That son of a bitch. This was taken today.”

“I pulled it from a satellite feed right after Meg left Saks Fifth Avenue,” Josh confirms. “She’s not running from the law. They already found her, and they were using her to pry information out of Amy.”

My brow furrows. “But isn’t this good, in some ways? We were afraid she knew information she could pass along about Chad’s secret. Clearly she hasn’t shared anything significant if she’s helping them dig for more information.”

“In a situation like this one,” Dante responds, “there was most likely a deal made for her freedom or a lesser sentence. And like a bank robber who has a stash of cash, a person in such a situation would keep that secret close to their chest, fully intending to use it when they’re free.”

“The question becomes,” Josh continues, “do we want to take a chance that she might end up talking?”

“No,” Liam says instantly. “We do not. So what are the options?”

“You call her and set up a meeting,” Dante answers. “I’ll do the rest.”

My throat goes dry. “What does ‘the rest’ mean?”

“Relocate her,” Dante says. “Monitor her.”

“Not kill her?” I blurt out.

He arches a brow. “Do you want me to kill her?”

“No,” I say instantly. “Would you if I said yes?”

“Would I kill someone?” he asks. “Yes, in an appropriate, necessary situation.”

It’s not a direct answer, but I’m not sure I really want one.

Josh pulls a phone from the envelope. “Call Meg. Set up a meeting.”

“She said I’d have to leave a message and she’ll call back,” I explain.

“So leave a message,” Dante replies.

“I’ll be monitoring the line,” Josh says. “So if she calls back, we’ll know.”

Dante eyes Liam. “You and I should talk once this job is done.”

Liam stands. “Let’s talk now.”

Dante gives him a hard stare before he rises, both men disappearing into the living room.

I glance at Tellar and Josh. “You both trust Dante?”

“I do,” Josh says without hesitation. “He can’t stand corruption, and he’s seen how power creates it and changes people. No one knows what that cylinder will do to this world like that man does.”

“I don’t know him like Josh does,” Tellar adds, “but I’ve read his résumé and I’ve checked up on him. He’s the ghost no one wants in their closet.”

“Just know this,” Josh adds. “I know and trust him, and Liam knows me and trusts me.”

“Chad knew and trusted Jared,” I counter.

“Jared’s a bastard,” Tellar comments, “but ultimately he’s CIA, and that can be a bumpy road to travel. Ask Coco. That’s why she left.”

“And Jared’s not going to out-hack me,” Josh promises. “I’ll find him, I’ll keep up with him, and I’ll know everything there is to know about him, down to how many times he goes to the bathroom.”

The kitchen door opens and Liam and Dante return. Liam places the piece of paper Meg had given me next to the phone. “Leave her a message to meet you at the address I wrote on the card, at ten tomorrow morning.”

I glance at the address—the middle of Times Square, and an easy place to disappear in the crush of people. “Do I say anything else? I would say something. That’s my personality, and Jared will listen to the message and know that.”

“Tell her you need to talk to her urgently,” Dante replies, his hands laced together in front of him, his demeanor formidable.

“Do I leave a number for her to call me?” I ask.

“No,” he instructs. “We want her to have no option but to take the meeting.”

I give a quick nod and dial, afraid she’ll answer, but the call goes straight to voice mail. “Hi, Meg,” I blurt out quickly. “It’s Amy. I have something urgent I need to talk to you about. Meet me, please.” I relay the address. “Tomorrow at ten a.m.” I end the call and set the phone down, and dang it, my hands are trembling all over again.

“Good,” Dante approves, stepping forward to take the phone. “Consider the problem handled.”

Josh and Tellar push to their feet and Josh gives me a salute. “See you soon, Amy.”

“Let’s hope I don’t see you again, Amy,” Dante says. He turns for the door, with Josh and Tellar following. Liam follows them and I stand and do the same, rounding the corner just in time to hear him murmur something to Tellar.

I reach the island at the same time Liam starts back in my direction, and we meet in the middle, our hands anchored to the edge. “What did you talk to Dante about?” I ask.

“I wanted to know if I passed his assessment, and when he said yes, I asked a few blunt questions. We scheduled a phone conference to work out the details of our future work relationship and avoid the risk of being seen together.”

“You said you hired him once before?”

“Yes. I did.”

“For what?”

“You won’t like the answer.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“He’s the assassin I threatened Sheridan with.”

For some reason, that doesn’t appall me. I think I knew the answer when I’d asked him about killing Meg. “What does it say about our life, that Tellar being a sniper and that man being capable of murder is comforting to me?”

“All it says is that you’re ready to be in control. And that means surrounding ourselves with people who are better at what they do than our enemies are at what
they
do.” He wraps me in his arms. “Everything that happened today worked in our favor. As of tomorrow at ten, all of our loose ends are tied.”

My hand flattens over his heart, and I relish its steady, calm beat. “Does this mean we agree to stay here? No safe house?”

“No safe house, baby,” he promises, his lips curving at the edges. “We’re home—and that means we celebrate.”

I yelp as he scoops me up and cradles me to his body. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to our playhouse,” he says, heading for the bedroom door.

I laugh, my worries falling away. And in this moment, the way this man keeps carrying me off to bed, I’m beginning to feel a bit like a princess with her own personal barbarian prince.

PART TEN

Closure

I FALL ASLEEP CURLED UP NEXT
to Liam, warm and safe, a smile on my lips, slipping into a sweet memory and a dream.

I awake in the darkness of my room and glance at the clock that reads midnight. I smile, throwing off the blankets and grabbing my robe. It’s Christmas, the first one in years the entire family has been home.

Quietly, so as to not wake up Mom and Dad down the hall, I open my door and tiptoe to the stairs and all the way down. Once I’m on the bottom level, I rush into the living area to the massive tree flickering with multicolored lights and find Chad sitting on the floor beside it, still fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. We both grin at each other like little kids, though I’m nearly eighteen and he’s twenty-four, and I love it.

I hurry to him, then sit on the floor Indian-style and he nudges me. “I thought you were turning into an old lady, going to bed so early.”

“You weren’t here when I went to sleep.”

“I went to see Dawn,” he says. “She still hates me.”

“You missed your girlfriend’s birthday. What do you expect?”

“I was in Egypt.”

“You could have called her,” I argue.

“Yeah. I suppose I could have. I guess I’m just not the sentimental type.”

“No. You really aren’t,” I agree and laugh. “You used to unwrap your presents before Christmas morning and rewrap them so Mom wouldn’t know.”

His eyes light. “Good idea.” He reaches under the tree and grabs a package.

“You can’t,” I warn. “Mom will be furious.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” He shows me the tag on the top. “It’s for you.” He starts unwrapping it and adds, “You know watching me do this makes you guilty, too. You know that, right?”

“I had a story planned if we were caught. You threatened to beat me up if I didn’t stay.”

“Because I always beat you up,” he says dryly.

“I was going to say you’d secretly done it for years.”

“Devious, sis. Really damn devious.”

I snicker and he pulls a box out of the paper, lifting the lid and sliding it over to me. I gasp at the sight of a photo, mounted in glass, of us all at a dig site, me holding up a wooden spoon I’d dug from the ground. Next to the picture is a piece of stone from the site.

My heart squeezes at how special it is. “I miss those days.” I glance at him, a long lock of his blond hair swooping in front of one eye. I reach over and tug it. “Do you think we’ll ever be together like that again?”

“Even if we aren’t in the same place, we’ll always be like that. We’re family. No amount of space, time, or obstacles can keep us apart.”

It’s a wonderful thought, but not the answer I really want. I open my mouth to say so, but I’m cut off when Mom rounds the corner in a rush of long blond hair and fluffy white robe, calling out, “You naughty children!” like we’re still kids.

Chad and I both laugh and she towers over us, hands on her hips. “If we’re opening presents, I need to get your father. Chad, make the hot chocolate.” She whirls around and takes off up the stairs.

“Lara, make the hot chocolate,” he tells me.

“Mom said—”

Then he’s tickling me, just like when we were little, and by the time Mom and Dad come down the stairs we’re flat on the floor, laughing until we both have tears in our eyes.

I wake from the dream with the same smile on my lips I’d fallen asleep with, replaying Chad’s words in my head.
No amount of space, time, or obstacles can keep us apart
. The memory gives me hope that he’s not lost to me.

I shift next to Liam, who’s apparently awake and waiting for a cue. I no more than blink and he’s climbing out of the bed, coaxing me into a hot shower that he makes much hotter. Afterward, I wrap myself in a red silk robe and he’s in a towel, and we stand side by side at the shiny white vanity, each with our own sink. I’m drying my hair and he’s trimming his goatee and I pause, watching him. He stills, his gaze meeting mine, and the bond I feel in this moment is downright surreal. I have this sense that we’ve left the troubled waters for a smoother course.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m attempting to flatiron my hair to the silky blond veil I aspire to but never quite achieve, when Liam emerges from the closet looking scrumptiously male in black jeans, a black sweater, and boots. He pauses next to me, tall and broad, fixing me in a wolfish look that says he’s thinking about taking me back to the shower.

I set my flat iron down. “I’m starving. You have to feed me this time.”

“I’m starving too,” he assures me. “And if I didn’t have to check in with Josh before we leave, I’d make you feed me right now.”

“Before we leave?”

“I thought we could go sit at a coffee shop I know and talk through the wedding plans.”

My giddiness is instant. “I’d love that.”

“Me too,” he says, flicking a quick look at my nipple puckering beneath the silk of my robe. “But if you don’t get dressed soon, we’ll be talking in bed.”

I’m laughing as he leaves and I waste no time dressing in a pair of dark blue jeans and a navy sweater, finishing off my makeup in pale pinks, and glossing my lips. My final touch is the Chanel No. 5 perfume Liam bought for me when we were in the Hamptons.

Excited to start our day, I seek out Liam and find him standing at the Christmas tree. His spine is erect, his body still, and I can almost hear the demons of his past whispering around him. I step to his side, wordlessly letting him know I’m here for him, giving him the space he might need, but the love and support he may need more.

“My mother,” he says after a full minute, “she loved Christmas.” He glances at me. “We were broke my entire childhood, so she’d buy little gifts and stash them all year long so I’d have packages under the tree.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and cocoons me against his body, his mood shifting, lips curving. “She’d be happy to see me celebrating again.”

I move to face him, my hands anchored on his chest. “Were you as compulsive about decorating the tree then?”

“Yes. And it drove her crazy.”

“I doubt that.”

“It drove my father crazy,” he amends, bitterness in his tone. “But he was usually so drunk he’d pass out by dinnertime, so my mother and I enjoyed ourselves.” His lashes lower, and when they lift, he’s banked the bad memory and returned to the good. “We need to get some eggnog. My mother thought no holiday was complete without it.”

“Mandatory,” I agree. “We need to plan our Christmas dinner, too. Maybe we can go to the grocery store in the next few days?”

“Us, grocery shopping,” he says. “We’ve come a long way, baby.”

I giggle. “Yes, we have.”

“Why don’t we go tomorrow,” he suggests. “We can also stop by the bank and get you a bank card and signature rights.”

“What? No. I don’t—”

He kisses me hard and fast. “Yes. You do. And we need to get our marriage license.”

Smiling inside and out, I poke a finger at his chest. “And you need a ring.”

“I custom ordered one for me, and another to go with your engagement ring. They arrive Tuesday. Unless you’d rather—”

“Are you kidding? I’m dying to know what they look like.”

His eyes light up. “I can’t wait to show you.” He motions with his head. “Let’s grab our coats and get out of here.”

“Wait,” I say as he starts to move, hating where my mind just jumped. “What happened with Josh?”

“He’s already found Jared’s home and an online parking spot he uses. We’re good.”

“And all is well with Dante and Meg?” I continue, hating that I’m thinking about this, not our day together.

“Everything was okay with Meg the minute we hired Dante. Presidents of this country have trusted him. I will, too.”

The door to the garage opens and Tellar comes up the steps with a “Ho, ho, ho.”

Liam and I laugh, my worries fading. This is going to be a good day.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER,
Tellar drops us off at a quaint little coffee shop a few blocks away and leaves to run errands, though I suspect Liam sent him away to prove a point. No safe house. No running.

“I can’t believe we’re alone,” I say, as we drop our coats onto two cozy leather chairs in a corner.

“About damn time,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walk to the wooden counter to order coffee and pastries. Once we’re settled in our seats, I’m thrilled to watch Liam pull out a sketchpad. “You’re going to design?”

“If I’m going to redesign the Chase Electronics office, I’m going to make a statement doing it.”

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with. Any ideas?”

“High tech and abstract,” he says. “Maybe round. There aren’t any round buildings in this city.”

“I love that idea, and I’m so very happy to see you do what you love.” My lips quirk. “I was starting to worry you had forgotten how to design.”

“Speaking of doing what you love . . .” He reaches into his briefcase and hands me one of my father’s journals. “I have an idea.”

I accept it, giving him a curious look. “Thank you. What’s the idea?”

“You now have the freedom to explore your love for archaeology any way you want. We can travel the world and dig together, if you like.”

“We don’t have to go dig, but I love that you mean that.”

“And you don’t have to decide now. Why not write a book about your father’s work? It’s a chance for you to honor him and revisit your past.”

My excitement is instant. “That’s an incredibly good idea. There’s so much to tell. The people we interacted with, the way we found the sites, the threats we faced. There’s so much.”

Then he hands me a MacBook Air. “It’s brand-new and ready for your masterpiece.”

I stand and move to his lap, kissing him. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

“Hey, hey. Public affection makes the rest of us feel uneasy.”

I smile at the sound of Derek’s voice, standing to greet him, and I’m instantly wrapped in a big bear hug. “Good to see you, Amy.” He leans back to inspect me. “You look good.”

“So do you,” I say, inspecting his neatly trimmed blond hair and khakis and white polo shirt. “Very preppy. Chess club, I think.”

He and Liam give each other two-finger waves and Derek claims a footstool between our chairs. “Brokering real estate deals is a chess match every day.” He glances at Liam’s sketchpad. “Ready to design that Denver complex for me?”

“I’m not creating another world’s tallest building your people are insisting on,” Liam replies. “It’s been done.”

“What if I said the project stalled and if I can get you in, they’ll give you creative freedom?”

“I’d say I’ll believe it when it’s in writing, and I have to finish another project first.”

“You’ve been gone,” Derek says. “How do you have another project?”

Liam’s phone rings and he glances at it. “Chase Electronics. And speaking of Josh, that’s him calling. I need to take this someplace quiet.”

Liam stands and steps around Derek, and my heart races with the certainty this is about Meg. I grab Derek’s wrist and look at his watch: eleven o’clock, an hour after Meg was supposed to meet me.

“You can’t let him do Chase’s building before mine,” Derek tells me.

“I have no control over what project he does or when,” I assure him.

“You have all the control with that man.”

I snort. “Oh, please. Not even close. How did you know we were here?”

“I was next door at a jewelry store picking up a gift, and ran into Tellar.”

“A gift and a jewelry store. Anyone special?”

“My sister,” he says, “who wants to see you, by the way. She said you two started to bond before you left town.”

“We did,” I say. “I’ll call her, and—yikes! Maybe she can go shopping with me for Liam. You’ve just made me realize I have no Christmas gift for him.”

“Good luck on that one. The man has everything and more. I don’t even try to buy anything for him anymore, though last year I got him tickets to some violin player he likes.”