Whirlwind (SAI Book 2) (33 page)

Solly D returned to the other side of the table and slowly sat down. “We will consider what you’ve said, and we’ll let you know.”

Sara shifted and realized her beautiful new shoes were not meant for standing. Her toes were numb, and there was a sharp pain in the balls of her feet. “I get you need to save face and all of that, but let’s be real. You sent two low-level guys after me when crazy Ang called and informed you all of my whereabouts. Maybe you’ve already figured out that I don’t have info, or you’ve discovered the password on your own. I’m no longer on the top of your list, and we all know it. Today is just an exercise in fake civility. I’m telling you that I’ve got something, and you’re telling me the same. I’d like to walk out of here today with a handshake agreement that we leave one another alone. A mutual no-destruction policy.”

“You don’t mince your words, do ya?” Louie Tomatoes asked.

“Grady is getting impatient, and I, for one, do not need to see what that looks like. Also, my feet are killing me, and I want nothing more than to be done with this little chitchat. You now know that I have someone who has a vested interested in my safety. I’m sure that you’ve figured out he has a team of men who will join him at a second’s notice to ensure that his goals are met. So let’s cut to the chase. Are you in or are you out?”

“I don’t know why you women always insist on buying those stupid shoes. My wife loves them, and then she complains when she has ’em on. It makes no sense to me. Those shoes with the damn red soles are all she wants,” Pudgy said.

“I hope you didn’t just call my shoes stupid. Because if you did, then I’m going to be really offended,” Sara bit out.

Grady leaned over and whispered, “Honey, that’s not the point.”

“I know, but my shoes are not stupid.”

Solly D stood, and his men sat up straight. “I will make sure people understand that we are no longer interested in Sal’s daughter.”

“I will not give any more interviews.”

Grady slid his gaze over the men and nodded. He stepped forward and pushed the locket across the table. “We’re done here.”

The door opened behind them, and Dane stood with his hand on his weapon. “We are clear for exfil.”

Grady moved in front of Sara and walked out of the restaurant as Dane covered their six. As they walked out the front doors, the bright sunlight almost blinded Sara. It felt like they had been in there for hours. Checking her watch, she realized it had been less than thirty minutes. A year in hiding and twenty minutes for it to end. How in the hell was that possible? When she got home, she was going to take some time to figure it out.

Hank had the car running. Grady hustled her inside and stood with his gun in his hand as Hank and Dane climbed into the car. Then he slid inside and closed the door. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, as he grabbed Sara’s hand. “Just an old-fashioned pissing contest.”

“That was the scariest ‘I’ll show you mine and you show me yours’ that I’ve ever seen,” Sara commented.

Hank drove them out of the neighborhood and laughed. “You did good in there, Sara.”

“Thanks. I have no idea what I said. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins, and it felt like I was outside my body. It was so weird. Is that what combat feels like?”

“In a way,” Grady responded.

“I liked when you told them that you were going to rain holy hell down on them. That was great.” Sara laughed. “So badass.”

“I enjoyed when you told them your feet hurt and you wanted to be done with the conversation. I’ll bet that’s not something that they hear every day.”

Leaning over, she slid off her shoes. “I wasn’t kidding. I can’t feel my feet.”

“The price of looking fierce is not for everyone,” Dane commented from the front.

“You got that right.” Sara leaned over and placed her head in Grady’s lap. “I’m going to rest.”

She felt Grady stroke her cheek and run his hand through her hair. It felt so good that before she knew it, her eyes had drifted shut.

***

The group was assembled in the hangar, and they had just demolished several large pizzas. Grady glanced over at Sara and grinned. They had taken a big step toward their future today, and he couldn’t have been happier. It was far from over, but at least each side knew what the other was capable of. The best outcome would be that no one pulled the trigger. The Outfit had a lot to lose if Sara continued to make her story public. The last thing they wanted was their faces plastered all over the news. It made them look weak, and as far as he could tell, that’s the last thing they wanted.

Grady whistled loudly and lifted his bottle of water. “I just want to thank everyone for helping us out. We had a good day, and every person here made that possible. Thank you.”

“Hooyah!” Dane, Hank, and Ed shouted.

Sara blew Grady a kiss from across the table and then got up. He watched her move from person to person, and he guessed that she was expressing her gratitude. They had an amazing future in front of them, and he could hardly wait to get started.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Two Weeks Later

Grady walked into the conference room and grabbed a seat. He took a slug of water as he waited for Dane and Joel. He checked his phone and noted that Sara had not left the house. That had pretty much been the case for the last two weeks. When they got home from Chicago, she went to bed and stayed there for almost two days. It was like she had finally given herself permission to fall apart. It made complete sense, but he was beginning to get worried. It might be time to talk to a professional. He’d seen enough PTSD over the years to recognize what Sara was battling.

It wasn’t possible to lose your parents, then see your father gunned down in front of you, and then go on the run for over a year and not have some heavy shit to deal with. His thoughts were interrupted when Dane strolled in and Joel followed. “Let’s get this meeting started. I have a ton of reports to plow through for the Argentinian government. They wanted a full proposal for their refineries.”

Joel slid into a chair and laid down a big stack of folders. “We have two more requests.”

“Shit, we’re going to spend the next year in South America. We need some more people if we want a chance at these contracts,” Dane said.

“I’ve spoken with Rorke, and we’re going to work together on these. It’s the only way to manage the influx of requests,” Joel answered. “Ivy is going to coordinate for us, so it should work.”

“I’m not going to be able to take any assignments out of state for a while. I need to stick close to home,” Grady said. He didn’t want to take himself out of the field, but he had no choice right now.

“How is Sara doing?” Joel asked quietly.

“Not great. She watches TV a lot. When I say a lot, I mean she’s started to talk about the New Jersey housewives like she knows them. When I get home, she gives me a full report about what happened. Like they’re friends.”

“Have you suggested she speak with someone?” Dane asked.

“I’ve hinted around, and she ignores me. We’ve been home for two weeks and she hardly ever leaves the house. At least she’s moved out of the bedroom and onto the couch.”

“What about Gladys and Agnes? They don’t seem like shrinking violets. I can’t imagine them allowing Sara not to deal with it.”

“They come over every day and they try, but Sara is as stubborn as a mule, and she’s dedicated to planting her body on the couch. It’s time to deal with the trauma that she’s experienced.”

Joel pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down a name and number. “This is the doctor Viv met with. She had a good experience with her, and this might be a good option for Sara. When I brought her to Florida, she wasn’t in great shape, and working with the doctor helped.”

Grady took the paper and glanced at it. “Where did you get the recommendation?”

“Ronnie’s best friend, Ana, gave us the name.”

He folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. “I’m going to talk to Sara tonight. The longer we don’t deal with it, the harder it’s going to be.”

Dane checked his tablet and then glanced up. “I just got a reminder that we have a bachelor party tonight for Trevor.”

“Shit, I almost forgot,” Grady said. “I’ll probably just go for dinner and then head home.”

“It’s not going to be crazy. Trevor said he wanted to have dinner and play poker and that was it.”

“He had plenty of wild years, so he probably doesn’t need one last one.” Joel smirked.

Dane slid a look over at Grady. “You need anything, you let me know.”

“Always, brother.” 

***

The doorbell echoed through the house, and Sara moaned. Lifting herself off the couch, she shuffled to the door and checked the monitor. “We don’t want any. Go away,” she called out loudly. She knew there was a very small chance that Richard would follow directions.

“Open the door, Sara.”

“No. I’m watching something on TV.”

“I brought food.”

Grumbling to herself, she disengaged the alarm system and opened the door. “I hope you brought something good.”

Looking up, she noticed he look slightly horrified. “I’ve taken a shower today, and I’m wearing clean clothes. My hair does this unless I take time to get it under control.” She stepped aside and let him in. “If it’s too much for you, leave the food, and I’ll tell whoever sent you that you tried.”

“Grady said that you’ve been hanging out at home, but I had no idea it was this bad.”

Lifting her hand, she slugged him in the arm. “Jeez, that hurt.”

He patted her head and moved into the kitchen. “I brought subs from the deli.”

“The one I like?” she asked, as she moved passed him and pulled out plates.

“Of course. Do you think that I would attempt an intervention with bad sandwiches?”

“No.” She pulled out two glasses and filled them with tea. “Why do I need an intervention?”

“Because you’ve watched five seasons of
The Real Housewives of New Jersey
and three from Atlanta. I think that pretty much points to an impending mental breakdown. I’m here to stop it.”

“I’m not having a breakdown. I have the beginning stages of PTSD. I’ve experienced too much trauma without dealing with it.”

“Okay. You just cut my speech in half.”

Patting his arm, she laughed. “I figure I’m owed at least two more weeks on the couch before I have to drag my butt into therapy. I have a couple more seasons to catch up on before that happens.”

He picked up their plates and the bag of sandwiches and walked over to the couch. “As long as you have a plan.”

Sara brought the glasses of tea and set them down. “I have everything I need.” Sweeping her arms over her pile, she grinned. “I have my iPad, phone, sketch pad, and magazines. What more could I want?”

“Fresh air and human interaction.”

“I swim every night after dinner, and I visit with Gladys and Agnes every day.”

“What about coming down to the gym and working out?” He placed a sandwich on her plate and handed it over.

“That will be in the second stage of recovery.”

“When does that happen?”

“Not for a long time. I need to become mentally strong before I can work on my physical strength.”

Laughing, Richard shook his head. “I’ll pick you up or Grady can bring you in, but we start tomorrow. You need to work the bags. Remember, you’ve faced a lot of tough shit over the last year. You can handle a lot more.”

“I don’t want to.” Carefully she unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. Maybe Richard would do the same, and then he could quit lecturing her. “It would cut into my TV therapy.”

“I will come and haul your skinny ass down there. Don’t test me,” Richard replied. He took a big bite of sandwich and then grinned as he chewed.

“I have a big, bad SEAL boyfriend. I don’t have to do anything.”

Wiping his mouth carefully, he shook his head. “Sara, I know you love Grady, and underneath all of your pain and sadness, you know he deserves the best version of you.” He patted her leg. “Honey, this is not the best version of you.”

Tears started to leak out, and her shoulders slumped. “I know,” she whispered. “But if I start to think about my parents and the mafia and crazy Ang, then I can’t breathe.”

He bent down and stared into her eyes. “I know.”

“How?”

“I’ve dealt with my own share of PTSD, so I recognize the signs. The only way around it…is through it. That’s how you get to the other side.”

More tears slipped down her face, and she swiped them away. “I was just hoping to put it off for a while longer.”

“Sorry, more time doesn’t make it easier.” He straightened up and started eating his sandwich. “I’ll watch one episode with you, and then you come work out tomorrow.”

“Make that two and you have a deal.”

“Is this going to make my brain bleed?”

“Probably,” Sara replied happily. “We are on the fourth season of
The Real Housewives of Atlanta
.”