Liberty...And Justice for All (15 page)

“That’s enough,” John said, softly. He took a step back from me and as I watched, he shut down his emotions. My husband’s eyes dried up and the darkness receded from them, by the sheer force of his powerful will.

“I think we’re about to get to ugly territory. I’m not going there. Not with you, babe,” he said.

“But we have to be able to talk about this,” I said, my fists clenched. I was trying hard to get my breathing under control. It made it worse to watch him be so controlled so quickly, while my anger had me spinning.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what I just said about Catherine. I’m just really angry right now.”

“Well, you got your point across,” John said. He went and sat on the sofa. I noticed he took measured steps and sat down carefully, like he was trying hard to control himself. “It’s not like you’re wrong about that.” He put his feet up on the glass coffee table in what appeared to be an intense effort to appear more relaxed.

“It’s just that she’s trying. For the first time.” I sat down across from him, taking a page from his playbook and forcing myself to take deep breaths and feign relaxation. I would not fight with him more. I would not ugly-cry and say mean things to him to break both our hearts.

I’d worked too hard to fix them. His heart and mine.

We were going to straighten this out, right now, whether either one of us liked it or not.

“I know it’s a crazy idea,” I continued. He was watching me, a look on his face that I couldn’t read.

“Babe,” he said. “It’s a totally crazy idea.”

I just exhaled and looked at him.

“Before we continue, I want to take a second to say I’m sorry. I love you, Liberty. I was nasty just now. I just can’t handle the thought of you two getting hurt. Again.” He shook his head and looked far away for a moment. “It’s just been too much. Too much pain. I think you were right. I need to get out of this business. The history of violence is one thing. But I don’t think I can handle it going forward.” He turned back to me. “I’ve got too much to lose, now.”

“We all do,” I said. “Including Mia and Tony.”

I paused for a beat. “Remember what you just said? About me acting like a child?” I asked.

He nodded, looking at me warily.

“I’m not acting like one, but you’re still treating me like one. Like I’m not competent enough to judge how dangerous something is. And whether it’s worth the risk. But you’re wrong. I’m pretty good at assessing the risk.”

I paused for a second. “How do you think I ended up letting myself love you?” I asked. “I knew the danger of trusting you with everything that I had was worth it. I knew that I would be better with you than without you—even though there was a real risk involved.”

My heart,
I thought.
I risked my whole heart, just hoping that you’d love me enough to love me back, in spite of everything that I was.

And John had. John had loved me, and he still did, and I’d been right to take the risk.

“I can make my own decisions and I have my own judgment about things. Even if you don’t approve of it,” I said. “And even though it’s scary, so can Catherine. We both want to help Mia. We both have our own reasons for it. Let us
try
.”

“And if one of you gets hurt? What am I supposed to do then? What do I do if you don’t come back to me? Or my daughter doesn’t?”

“I will always come back to you, babe. And I won’t let anything happen to Catherine.”

“How can you promise me that?” He asked.

“Because I love her, too. Even though she’s cray-cray.” I smiled at him. “Plus, I know what a badass you are. You aren’t going to let some measly little drug cartel rip your family apart.”

He forced himself to smile back at me. “Hasn’t happened yet,” he said. “Not for lack of trying, though.”

“It’s not gonna happen on your watch. And it’s not gonna happen on mine,” I assured him.

John inspected his hands, lost in thought, as I sat back and waited. Now I had to stop talking out of my ass. I had to make this happen and come back safe. Because I could be wrong, and I could end up dead. Or Catherine could. And even though I could handle just about anything, I’d learned, I couldn’t handle hurting John.

Why are you doing this to him, then?
I asked myself. I watched as he stood up, stretched, and then started pacing around the room. I was torturing him right now. If hurting him was the opposite of what I wanted, I was doing an ass-backwards job.

Catherine.
I might have let him convince me before, that my plan to infiltrate the dealers and get Mia back was ill-advised. But now Catherine wanted to help, and I could tell that she meant it. Maybe she needed to prove something to herself, or me, or John. Or maybe it was Angel she was thinking of. I didn’t know and probably wouldn’t, ever, understand what her motivations were. But I had to try to help her. In a lot of ways, Catherine was my cross to bear. I’d been the one to find her in her misshapen emotional form down in Tamps and I was the one who’d killed her husband. I was the one who’d dragged her, kicking and screaming, back to a life she may not have wanted.

If I could find a way to make her happy, to make her more human, it would be the best thing for John.

Getting her shot would be the opposite of the best thing for John,
I thought, watching my gorgeous, troubled husband pace. But not letting her try would be the same thing as John not letting me try—it would be me not treating her like an adult.

It was time to start taking some responsibility and acting like one. For both me and Catherine.

“Can we go talk to Matthew?” I asked. “I have some ideas about how to get somewhere with Shawna…”

John looked at me, his eyes hollowed out. “Sure,” he said. His voice was distant.

I was fucking this up, big time.

“Forget what I said about infiltrating the cartel. We won’t do it if you don’t want us to,” I blurted out, my weakness for him outweighing everything else.

Some life returned to his eyes. “I don’t want you to,” he said, and pulled me to him. He kissed my cheek. “I don’t want you to.”

“
Y
ou want me to
what
?” Matthew asked, looking at me like I had three heads.

“Take Shawna out on a date,” I said. “Take her shopping. Get her nails done. Get her a bucket of wings and a giant margarita.”

“Why,” Matthew said, flatly.

“Because she needs to be seen, first of all,” I said. “People see her, they’ll think she’s picked up a John. That she’s getting paid for a long-term date.” I shrugged. “Trust me, people in Vegas talk. The city’s smaller than you think, and the stripping community’s even smaller. I’ll tell you where to take her. Places the locals hang out. So the dealers don’t think she’s dead or that she’s ratted.”

I eyed his t-shirt. “Put on a tank top. See if you can get her to open up to you, a little. I’d like to know who she’s working with at the club.” I watched as John’s face turned worried again.

“So we can follow them, babe,” I assured him.

“Do it,” John said to Matthew. “Just make sure she understands that if she tries something, she’s dead.”

“Text me that list, Lib,” Matthew said. “And make sure the place with the wings is good.”

I turned to Catherine. “We’re moving on to Plan B,” I told her.

“What’s that?” She asked, wrinkling her nose at me.

Catherine wasn’t really a Plan B kind of girl.

“We’re not going into the club undercover. I promised John. We’ll have to try to get Mia from the outside.”

“I think that’s more dangerous,” she said. She turned to her father. “I think it’s a mistake, Dad. They’re going to have it set up like a fortress. Worse than Angel’s house. That security was a joke—if
you
got in,” she said, looking at me.

She turned back to John. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Not the first one I’ve made,” he said. “But at least it’s within my circle of expertise. I can make this work. I can’t handle my daughter and my wife putting themselves in mortal danger for a job.”

“It’s to save someone,” Catherine said. “You of all people should know that. It’s never just been a job to you. At least I hope not.”

“It’s not,” John said. “I want to save Mia, too. She’s innocent. She’s a mom. She’s caught in the middle of something that isn’t her fault. I want to get her for the right reasons, too. I just don’t want to lose the people I love in order to do it.”

“You won’t,” Catherine said, still lobbying. “I know what I’m doing. I was living a dangerous life for a long time. I managed to come out of it okay. Relatively okay, anyway. And Liberty here’s not as dumb as she seems. She keeps managing to come out on top.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said. “I love it when you talk me up.”

“I’m serious,” she said to John, ignoring me. “We could get in there tonight and find that woman. Then we get her out, and call you, and nobody dies. Or practically nobody.” She shrugged.

“No,” John said, and crossed his arms across his chest.

“John—” she started.

“No. Not going to happen. Now you two go find something to do. Matthew’s taking Shawna, and Corey and I are going out to scout the compound the best we can.” He turned to me. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Of course,” I said, and kissed him dutifully on the cheek.

He turned to Catherine. “I’m sorry that I disagree with you, but this is the way it has to be. I appreciate that you want to help, though. I do. And please understand that I’m saying no because of me. Not you.”

“Whatevs,” Catherine said, clearly angry. “See ya.”

She turned to me once he and Corey were gone. Matthew was in the room with Shawna, introducing himself and probably flexing from beneath his tank top to make her more agreeable.

“Let’s go,” Catherine said, tossing her enormous Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder.

“Where?” I asked.

“To buy some slutty stripper outfits,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Cause I don’t know about you, but I am
done
taking orders from men.”

I tried to shut my mouth, which was gaping open. I managed to close it by the time we made it out into the hallway, on our way to violate the direct orders of the man I loved.

“
W
hat do
you think about this?” she asked, holding up a tiny strip of glittery fabric. It was, technically, what was known as butt-floss.

“I think you’re dad’s going to kill you first, then me,” I said. “And put that down! Someone’s probably tried that on…it could be contaminated.”

Catherine wrinkled her nose and put it down, wiping her hands on her jeans afterwards.

“Don’t sweat my dad,” she said, digging through the racks. “He can’t live without either one of us, poor, misguided bastard that he is. He won’t kill us.”

“Catherine,” I said. “We can’t go in there tonight and do this. I promised him.”

“I didn’t,” she said, and held up a pair of red satin boy-shorts.

“No.” I said.

“I don’t take orders from you either,” she snapped, and went off to find a matching red satin bra.

I called Matthew.

“Lib,” he said, picking up after the first ring.

“How’s it going?” I asked, looking at some leopard-print crotchless panties.
Ew.
I couldn’t believe I actually used to wear this stuff.

“Pretty good. Shawna’s just getting some gel-nails with panthers on them.”

“No way,” I said.

“Yes way,” he said. “It’s classy. Classy all the way.” He paused for a beat, probably checking that Shawna was still in her seat. “Speaking of class, Ian told me about the letter he got. What the hell?”

“Who do you think it was?” I asked.

“I’d love to say Marks, ‘cause he’s such a prick. But I don’t know…the letters, the talk about feelings, the insults…it’s all feeling a little…
girly
to me.”

“I know,” I said. “So maybe Katrina? Not Alexandra…I can’t picture her doing this.”

“I know. She might be the passive-aggressive type, though,” he said.

“That’s pretty freaking aggressive.” I paused for a beat. “The fact that we’re down here? And not home, paying the thief any attention? I think that’s making it worse.”

“Huh,” he grunted. “I think the thief’s getting her feelings hurt. It’s totally a girl.”

“Speaking of girls, has Shawna been helpful?” I asked.

“Not at all,” Matthew said. “But I’m flexing as we speak, and we’re going for margaritas next. So we’ll see.”

“Work your magic,” I said. “I need names.”

“What’s your step-cuckoo up to?”

I gritted my teeth. “We’re shopping,” I said.

“Of course you are. See you back at home base.”

I looked up and saw Catherine at the counter, paying for a pile of garish, glittering items.

Any excuse for a shopping binge.

“You ready?” Catherine asked, her high-ponytail swishing by me on the way to the door.

“Not really,” I said, following her out.

“This is for you,” she said, handing me a black garter belt.

“I don’t need this,” I objected.

“If you don’t want me to go alone, yes you fucking do.”

J
ohn and Corey
weren’t back from their surveillance; Matthew and Shawna weren’t back from their fake date.

That left me and Catherine, alone in the hotel bar for an early dinner.

“Will you please eat something? Besides that olive?” I begged Catherine as she finished a vodka martini.

The bartender came over and I practically grabbed him. “Two Caesar salads, please,” I said, “with chicken. And two glasses of
water
.”

“I’ll have another one of these,” Catherine said, waving her empty martini glass. She looked at me and smiled. “It’s Vegas, Liberty. Relax.”

“Vegas has never been my happy place,” I said.

“That’s ‘cause you probably sucked as a dancer. But we can do some good here. Then maybe you’ll feel different.”

“I doubt it,” I said as the bartender put another drink in front of her. “Why do you want to do this? Really?”

“I just can’t stand to think about that girl for another night. And an opportunity like this doesn’t present itself every day.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I had you kidnapped. I tortured you. I took you from the people you loved. And honestly, you weren’t the only one. Hardly,” Catherine said.

I just sat there for a moment, biting my lip, considering for a moment everything she and Angel might have done over the years.

“I can’t undo what I’ve done,” Catherine said. “I don’t believe in getting a pass for it—I don’t even want one. But what I do want is to help that girl. Because I’m here. I made it. And because I can.”

I never once thought she resembled John, except for those eyes.

Until now.

“Okay,” I said. I pushed everything I’d promised to John out of my mind. “Okay.”

“
U
se an Uber car
. Don’t use the driver,” I said, hustling Catherine out of my room. We had stripper clothes on underneath our t-shirts and jeans; I had what I considered to be the worst wedgie of my life.

We took the stairs instead of the elevator. I had our slutty heels in my bag; we both wore sneakers. I’d insisted even though Catherine had balked. “We might need to run, dipshit,” I said, and she’d giggled. Like we were two girls on a sleepover, sneaking out, not wanting to get caught by our parents.

Except I was one of the parents. And the other parent was absolutely going to kick my ass when he got to me, or divorce me, or something worse. If there was something worse.

Catherine tapped something on her phone and two minutes later, a car pulled up. “Catherine?” Asked a young guy, driving a Jetta. “Your Uber service awaits.”

“Fierce, please,” she said, as we squished into the back of the car. I dug through my purse and I found my gun, back-up ammo, and some cash.

I’d left my identification, my cell phone and any semblance of sanity back at the Byzantine.

“Don’t look so worried,” Catherine said, applying more lip gloss. “Is my makeup slutty enough?”

“Absolutely. You don’t have to worry about that.” Under her clothes she was wearing the red satin outfit with fishnet stockings. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and she had on so much black eyeliner she looked like Cleopatra. Slutty Cleopatra.

So slutty wasn’t going to be the problem: everything else was.

“Tony isn’t expecting us,” I said. “If I call him, he’ll probably call John. So this is gonna be a little tricky.”

“We’ll just tell Tony that John knows but he’s on surveillance and can’t talk,” Catherine said.

“You’re scaring me more than usual,” I said.

“Why’s that?”

“It’s almost like you’re making sense.”

She snorted at me. “Do you have everything?” She asked. She meant the gun, the mace, the knives and the handcuffs we’d misappropriated from John.
He’s going to kill me,
I thought again, but I roughly shoved the thought to the side.

If we did this, and we came out of it okay, Catherine was going to be happy. Er. Happier. Or at least more civil.

I hoped.

The driver pulled up outside the club. “Have fun, ladies,” he said. “I heard it gets a little wild in there.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” Catherine said, innocently.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the end of the long line. She scowled at me. “Why’re we in line?”

“We don’t want to call any attention to ourselves. I don’t even want the bouncer to notice us.”

“Liberty, we’re in line with about a hundred horny guys from out of town. I think we’ll get noticed,” she said.

Just then, the extremely large bouncer who’d checked us in twice before walked down the sidewalk. “Ladies,” he said, motioning to us, “come with me.”

“Great,” I hiss-whispered to Catherine.

She tossed her ponytail. “We’re lucky he’s letting us in. We’re wearing
sneakers
, for Christ’s sake.”

We followed him to the door. “I’m sure Tony’s expecting you,” he said.

I gave him a frozen smile. “Actually, we’re just dropping in. But thanks.” I didn’t know what the bouncer knew, or who his allegiance was to; I didn’t want him to think that Tony was going to be responsible for whatever happened tonight. Because it could be bad.

We headed down the dark hallway towards Tony’s office and I looked wistfully back at the crowded bar. I didn’t like the bar, but I liked it better than the room down here with the closed door.

And I was pretty sure that’s where we were headed.

“Tony or no Tony?” Catherine asked.

“We have to tell him we’re here—otherwise the girls are gonna think we’re escorts, trying to take their clients home.”

I knocked on Tony’s door; he was inside talking to one of the hosts, the tall, beautiful woman with the dark hair we’d seen the night before. He nodded at her, dismissing her, and then turned to us with a wary expression on his face. “I didn’t know you were coming in tonight,” he said, motioning for us to sit down. “John just checked in. He didn’t mention anything to me.”

“Is he on his way back?” I asked, my stomach twisting nervously.

“No. He said they’re staying out there for at least a few more hours, doing surveillance.”

“Okay,” I said, my nerves settling a fraction.

“So…” Tony said, looking at us expectantly. “Are you here for drinks?” He looked a little confused, probably not in the least because we were wearing sneakers and jeans, and Catherine had so much makeup on she looked like a Kardashian.

“We’re here for work,” Catherine said. “Liberty and I want to go in and meet some of the girls in the private room, see what they’re doing. See if any of the clients are suspicious.”

Tony looked at me. “And John approved this?”

“His idea,” I lied, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I’d always sucked at lying.

“Okay,” Tony said. “I have security, but I expect you girls know how to take care of yourselves.”

“Of course,” Catherine said. “But don’t say anything. To anyone. As far as everyone else is concerned, we’re new dancers you’re trying out. You can’t even tell security. We can’t trust anyone at this point.”

Tony looked pained but he nodded. “If any of my workers sold Mia out, they’re dead.”