Consequence by Rachel Higginson

I searched the streets for nondescript vans and nonchalant joggers secretly wearing earpieces, but this area of town managed to stay pretty vacant. I used my phone to call an Uber and counted the cash as I walked to the meeting place where the driver would pick me up.

  Three hundred and twenty-six dollars. That was a lot of cash for someone to carry around with them. Even fancy FBI agents.

  I had the car take me to the nearest Target where I tipped him twenty-six bucks and spent the rest of the three hundred dollars on clothes, toiletries and a pair of running shoes for Juliet.

  At the checkout, I started changing clothes while the cashier was still ringing up my items. I’d pulled on a new jacket, braided my hair over my shoulder and added a loose stocking cap. “Use as few bags as possible,” I told the lady.

  She blinked at me but didn’t argue. I paid for my items and told her to keep the change after she’d handed me the receipt. Again, she looked totally befuddled, but she didn’t comment. I grabbed my heavy purchases and headed for the door again.

  I had to hunch with the bags to focus on my phone. This time I ordered a Lyft to avoid getting the same driver. He met me at the gas station across the street.

  I watched two black SUVs pull up to the front of Target and suited FBI agents leave as one unit to search the Target. It was impossible to tell if they were looking for me or if they were the cleanup crew. But either way, I had Mason’s number.

  He was text-book to the end, by the book in every single way. Mason was nothing but a one-trick pony.

  But I didn’t like that he already knew I was here. I didn’t like that he knew details about my life he shouldn’t. Voice activated remotes was a bunch of bullshit. Frankie and I didn’t live like that. Our laptops didn’t even have webcams. And we didn’t keep them connected to WI-FI unless we were online.

  Maybe the majority of the population didn’t know how to stay off the grid, but we did.

  My phone beeped with a text message. Sayer was home and wanted to know where I was. I could feel his concern and impatience in the simple message. He had hired Cage for a reason and I knew that leaving without my bodyguard would make him mad.

  It was why I had done it.

  I wanted answers from Sayer. I wanted the truth. I wanted the whole story.

  “On my way.” I sent the message wondering if Sayer was the reason Mason knew so much. How close had the two of them gotten over the last couple years?

  I realized my suspicions about Sayer were on opposite ends of the spectrum. They swung from assuming he was still working for the Volkov to working with the FBI, but until he confessed all of those endless secrets, I would keep guessing and pushing and digging to find them myself. That told me the most important thing I needed to know—even after everything that had happened, I didn’t trust Sayer.

  Not even a little bit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gus and Cage had returned with Sayer. I walked in, my arms laden with Target purchases. They all stood up, clearly not knowing what to expect.

  “We’re going to be here for a while,” I told them by way of explanation. “I didn’t pack enough.”

  “You went to Target?” Sayer asked, suspicion clear in his tone.

  Adding irritation and self-righteousness to my confusion, I asked, “Is that okay?”

  “I would have gone with you,” Sayer said, trying his best to remain chill. “Or Cage. You probably shouldn’t be walking around town by yourself.”

  I shrugged. “I took a cab.”

  “Come on, Six. You know better than that,” Sayer groaned.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I bristled—he didn’t get to mess with my independence. If he only knew where I’d been. But I didn’t need to poke the bear more than necessary.

  “I’m going to put my things down. When I come back, we can make a game plan.” To Juliet, I said, “Come on, sweets. You need a shower.” Juliet hurried to my side and we disappeared into Sayer’s bedroom.

  I closed the bedroom door and set the bags on the bed. I looked around and sighed while Juliet rummaged through my purchases. “We should probably get a hotel,” I told her.

  Her eyes got wide and a huge smile broke out on her face. “Is this for me?” She pulled out a sweatshirt with a giant sparkly unicorn on the front.

  “Do you hate it?” I teased her. “I can take it back if you hate it.”

  She grinned and hugged the sweatshirt to her chest. “Thank you, Mommy. I love it!”

  “Shower first.” She nodded and ran to the bathroom. I got her set up and came back to sort through the new clothes. A knock at the door kept me from making too much progress.

  Pulling the door open a crack, I came face to face with Sayer. “Can we talk?” he asked.

  “For a minute.”

  He walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. His sharp gaze moved over the cluttered bed and our girly things all over his very masculine room. I felt self-conscious as he surveyed our mess. I had planned to clean it up while Juliet showered, but he’d interrupted.

  “We’ve kind of invaded,” I mumbled, trying to internally talk my cheeks out of blushing.

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t know I’d like it as much as I do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He turned around and leaned back against the footboard of his bed. “Your invasion.” He held up Juliet’s special blanket that I’d brought from home. “I like you in my space, Caro.”

  The butterflies were back, swooping low in my belly, reminding me of last night and this man without his clothes on.

  “What are we doing, Sayer?” I moved my pointer finger back and forth between us. “What is this?”

  His expression darkened. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what the hell are we doing? We can’t just keep… having… you know, late night bang sessions every time we’re alone.”

  “Is that what you think we’re doing?”

  Ignoring the menacing gleam in his eyes and the way his body had hardened to stone, I pushed on with my argument. “And Juliet is still trying to process this. Do you know she had no idea she even had a father? She thought she came along without one. This morning was the first time she realized that you had been missing from her life. That was a blessing I suppose, but now you’re here, and she has to learn to cope with you. I don’t want to confuse her with our behavior.”

  His voice dipped low, gritty with emotion I couldn’t begin to understand. “And why would it confuse her if her mother and father acted like a mother and father?”

  I stopped moving around the room, trying to tidy up, realizing I needed to face him for this conversation but unable to find the courage to do so. My heart ached, like there was a fist squeezing it tight and unwanted tears pricked at my eyes. “I don’t want to play house, Sayer. I don’t want to pretend. And I don’t want to make promises to Juliet that I can’t keep.”

  “You mean with me?”

  I nodded, brushing away the one lone tear that escaped.

  “Because you think I won’t stick around or what?”

  “I—”

  “You’re the one that left, Six. Not me. I’m not the flight risk here.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “And you’re the one that claims we broke up. I’m still trying to remember exactly when you let me know things were over between us.”

  “Wait a second—”

  His gaze found mine, holding me captive, transfixing me to the spot. “When there are people around you don’t seem to want anything to do with me, Six.” He reached out and grabbed my fingers, tugging me to stand between his legs. “But… when I get you alone…” His free hand trailed up my thigh, wrapping around my hip and holding firmly. “You’re sending some pretty wild mixed signals.”

  I knew he was right, even though his touch and his closeness and every single thing about him made it difficult to think straight in general. This was the part I needed to lie my way
through. I needed to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him or making up for lost time. I didn’t want to mend the rift between us or continue on as if nothing had happened.

  Because a lot of shit had happened. Starting with the reason I’d run. He’d chosen the bratva over me. He’d picked his brothers over our future. And now… now that he was back, he was as full of mystery and secrecy as ever. If he couldn’t trust me, how could I trust him? And if I couldn’t trust him, I couldn’t have him in my life.

  It was dangerous enough already.

  I was the best liar in the business and all I needed to do was string Sayer along until I could safely get Juliet out of this city and possibly the country. I just needed to tell him enough half-truths that he didn’t question my motives, my decisions, or why I couldn’t seem to say no to him. I formed a beautiful lie. I was going to tell him that I didn’t want anyone to see us together. I didn’t want anyone to realize they could still use us against each other. We had to put distance between us to keep Juliet safe.

  Admittedly not my best con… but it could work. At least build a foundation. I called upon a lifetime of practice, opened my mouth and told him… The truth. “I don’t know how to trust you again.” And as if that wasn’t bad enough, emotion made my voice wobbly, completely revealing how upset and fragile I was.

  So much for being good at what I did.

  “Because you think I picked the Russians over you?”

  “Because I know you did.”

  He shook his head slowly from side to side, disagreeing with me in the gentlest way. “You’re a smart girl, Caro. The smartest I know. And usually you read a situation with scary accuracy, but you’re wrong about this. I have always, only picked you. Even back then. Even when I refused to leave the bratva. That wasn’t for them. Hell, that wasn’t even for me. That was because I knew I couldn’t protect you. Because I was trapped in that goddamn hellhole and I thought the safest scenario for you was if I stuck with the Russians.”

  The shower shut off in the bathroom and Juliet called out, “Mommy, I’m done!”

  “Be right there,” I called back, hoping she didn’t hear the tears stuck in my throat.

  Sayer stood up, bringing our bodies close together. He gripped my hips and tugged me into him, holding me against him. “You’ve been running for five years. Not just from the brotherhood, the FBI, and your past, but from me too. But we’ve found you. You’re back in this city, back in the bratva, back in the fucking trenches. Stop running from me.”

  I didn’t even know what to say to him or how to respond. He was right, and I hated it. I hated that he’d boiled down all of my problems and crises to the biggest issue of them all—him. I was still running from him. Like a terrified rabbit, I’d abandoned all common sense and logic in a panicked flight as far as I could get from him. Only I kept running in circles. I kept ending up back where he was.

  “Mommy!” Juliet called again. I knew she must be cold.

  Sayer leaned down and kissed the shell of my ear. “I will never hurt you again,” he whispered. “But you have the ability to destroy me. Figure out what you want, Six. Figure out what you need.”

  He turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving me to gasp for air. He left me with all of my emotions scattered around the room, broken and jumbled and frustratingly confused. With superhuman strength, I pulled myself together and followed the sound of a naked four-year-old chanting for me from the bathroom.

  “Finally!” she cheered.

  I smiled but couldn’t find the strength to talk to her the entire time I helped her get dressed and dealt with her hair. She turned around and hugged me, and I soaked in her quiet strength and sweet spirit.

  “Guess what, Mommy?” Her words were muffled against my cheek.

  “What, baby girl?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I pulled back, but kept her close. I set her up in Sayer’s bed with my Kindle Fire and told her to have some rest time. She didn’t even argue.

  After I’d tucked her in beneath the quilt, I paused in the doorway to admire her. She was so pretty, so breathtakingly beautiful. She was just this perfect picture of innocence and my heart swelled with the realization that her kidnapping hadn’t messed her up too much. Maybe she would have some attachment issues. She would probably want to sleep in my bed for the next ten years. But physically, she was unharmed. Emotionally, she was minimally damaged.

  I didn’t forgive Atticus for any of it, but it could have been so much worse. I had seen the bratva beat children before, torture them to get at their parents. The worst stories included house fires and bloated bodies washing ashore for the police to find.

  This wasn’t their first kidnapping by a long shot. The brotherhood regularly used and abused children to assert dominance on those that needed bending—politicians, judges, business owners. They were heartless when it came to the treatment of weaker humans and relentless when it came to getting what they wanted.

  We had been lucky. But not because we deserved kindness. I knew it had more to do with effective manipulation. I would comply because of the threat to my daughter’s life. And if I didn’t? They would use more convincing techniques.

  Now to survive the Volkov demands. How was I supposed to clear their name and get them out of prison? That seemed impossible.

  “I saved you a seat,” Frankie called from the table.

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator I sat down in between Frankie and Sayer at the only seat left. They watched me, apparently waiting for some kind of mental breakdown.

  Or plan of action.

  I went against my instinctual fear and gave them truth instead. Apparently, I was brimming with honesty today. “Mason texted me this morning. We talked. He knows I’m here and what I’m trying to do.”

  “How?” Gus demanded at the same time Frankie exploded with an outraged, “Mason Payne?”

  Cage looked ridiculously confused and I could tell he was racking his brain for the reminder of who Mason Payne was. But Sayer sat there as calm and collected as he’d ever been. “What did he want?”

  I stared at my hands twisting together on my lap. “For me to give up.”

  “You haven’t even started yet,” Frankie grumbled.

  “I think that’s the point.”

  Cage leaned forward and asked, “Mason is…?”

  “FBI,” Sayer supplied. “He’s been after the Volkov for a long time. He’s the agent that I worked with for my release.”

  “We had a sort of relationship before Sayer went away,” I confessed. “That relationship consisted of him bullying me into sharing information I never gave up. In turn, he would try to entrap me, and I used my charming wit to evade him. He eventually gave up and went after Sayer.”

  Gus chuckled. “And that worked. He probably should have started with Sayer.”

  “But Caro’s so much prettier,” Frankie added, but her flinty eyes told me she hated Mason as much as I did.

  I searched my memory for a time when she’d had to deal with him. She had never said anything about him. She knew about him from after we’d left DC, but as far as I could recall, she had never met him.

  Turning to Sayer, I noticed his scowl and wondered if it was from Gus’s comment or Frankie’s. “He did say something interesting…” Sayer raised his eyebrows. “He said my freedom was bought and paid for a long time ago. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the glossy table. “Like I said earlier, Six, you’re the only one that thought we broke up when you left town. Do you really think I wouldn’t take care of what’s mine?”

  “Maybe out of spite?”

  He made a sound in the back of his throat but didn’t bother deigning my comment with a reply.

  “What are you going to do, Caro?” Frankie asked, helpfully moving the conversation forward.

  “I don’t know. I’ve thought about breaking into Mason’s offic
e, but by now, more than just Mason has all the information and evidence for trial. We could bribe a juror or two and try for a mistrial, but Roman doesn’t want to wait that long. We could somehow break them out of jail, but then they’d have to leave the country, or at least the state, and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t on their list of possible scenarios. Also, this isn’t a movie and I don’t know the first thing about breaking out of places. Breaking in sure. I’m your girl. But sneaking three people out of a highly locked down facility is a whole different monster. What I’ve come up with is… we should all leave the country. Let them chase us through South America.”

  Gus leveled me with his most severe glare. Clearly, I’d disappointed him. “They would, Caro. They’d follow us all the way there and then shoot us down in cold blood on some street in El Salvador. They’re as happy to kill us there as they are to kill us here.”

  “I mean, fine, be a pessimist about it.”

  “I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist.”

  I turned to Frankie, my only real ally. “That’s what every pessimist says.”

  “We need real solutions,” Cage cut in. “Real answers. We’ve got a solid column of Don’ts. But we could use some Do’s right now.”

  We all fell silent, concentrating on a way out of this gigantic mess. “What if we’re going about this the wrong way,” I hedged, realizing it was mostly my life at stake anyway. “How much did you give Mason?” I asked Sayer.

  He folded his arms over his chest and lifted his chin stubbornly. “A lot. Enough to put them away forever.” The briefest second of insecurity flashed in his cobalt eyes and he admitted, “But I don’t know exactly what I gave them, I didn’t necessarily hand over information to them. I gave them the tools they needed to find the information themselves. I gave them the inner workings of the business, the tricks of the trade. I walked them straight to the top.”

  “If this goes to trial, there’s no chance of bail, no possibility of escape?”

  “Come on, Caro, what’s the first rule of thieving?”

  “The thing you don’t expect to go wrong will always go wrong.”