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“You will say thank you. You will say please. Yes, sir. No, sir.” He digs his fingers in. “You will submit to me... and you will bear my child.”
I spit in his face.
He grabs my throat and yanks me up off the mattress. “Or I will break you, Danielle Roberts,” he says, his face an inch away from mine.
I make eye contact with him, holding his stare as I try to breathe. “Fox...” I say, wheezing. “Fox will kill you.”
He smiles with those same boyish dimples, regarding me like an ignorant child. “He’ll die trying,” he says.
“You don’t know him.”
“And you don’t know me.” He squeezes tighter, choking me. “My name is Giovani Zappia… and you’re mine now.”
He drops me and I fall back, coughing hard.
“Get some rest,” he says on his way to the door. “Big day coming soon.”
I sit up, putting my weight into my arm as I try to stay upright. He pauses in the doorway, his form blurred by a veil of tears.
“What do we say, Danielle?” he asks.
I cough again, tasting bile in my throat. “Yes, sir,” I say.
The door slams behind him and the lock clicks.
Chapter 9
Boxcar
And the little baby, too.
Five words. That’s all it took for Myra to completely destroy me.
She’d do it, too. She wouldn’t hesitate to take everything I love with a quick flick of her wrist.
Which is why I can’t for the life of me figure out why I’m so conflicted.
Myra Black is Rosemary’s freakin’ baby. She’s murdered who knows how many people as second in command of the deadliest underground organization on the planet. She personally violated me; an event that still makes me nauseous if I think about it for too long.
But that doesn’t make me okay with torture.
“Box?”
I snap out of it and glance around the room. The others stare at me from various places. Luka and Sofia sit side-by-side on the loveseat in the corner while Archer takes the recliner beside it with Lilah on the floor, her head playfully resting on his knee. Dante paces along the same patch of carpet by the window.
And Fox regards me with suspicion from the sofa across from mine.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you still tracking Casey?” he repeats.
“Oh.” I poke the spacebar on my laptop, waking it up to check my software. “Yeah,” I say, spotting the green dot on the map. “He must be settling in for the night.”
“Or he found the chip and left it someplace,” Lilah says, amused.
I shrug, not caring for her ‘tude. “Yeah. Sure. It’s possible.”
Fox eyes me for a moment before he continues. “Let’s assume he didn’t,” he says. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll go to Paris and make contact. I’ll talk to him myself, see if I can narrow down where they were supposed to deliver Lilah. That’s where we’ll find Dani and Lucy.”
“No,” I say, flexing my jaw. “I’ll talk to him.”
All heads turn toward me again.
“Are you sure?” Fox asks.
“Yeah, we’ll have a better chance if it comes from me,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Lilah throws up a hand. “I’ll escort him. Casey might take it as a sign of good faith that we mean business.”
Dante nods, still staring out the window. “Sounds good.”
Archer touches her shoulder. “You sure about that?” he asks. “He might take advantage. Scoop you up then and there and drag you to Gio.”
“In that case, the plan is easy,” she says. “I get tossed in the dungeon. I’ll find Dani and Lucy and then you guys can swoop in and help bust us out. Just don’t lose track of us leaving France and we’ll be groovy.”
“And if we do lose you?” Archer asks.
“Then, we go to the source,” Luka says. “It’s obvious that Antony Zappia hasn’t been honoring the conditions of our new truce. I owe him a little visit.”
Sofia nods beside him. “And if there really is to be a Zappia wedding, then Antony will surely be there. Beatrix as well.”
Dante turns away from the window. “But it’ll all go better with a man on the inside,” he says. “Tomorrow, we talk to Casey and find out where Dani and Lucy are.”
“And Caleb,” I add, my voice a bit too loud. “Let’s not forget about her.”
Archer nods. “Of course, mate,” he says.
I set my laptop on the table and stand up. “I’m gonna stretch my legs,” I say, excusing myself and walking toward the back exit just off the kitchen.
The sky is hazy shade of purple, just seconds away from total pitch-blackness. I stand on the edge of the patio stairs, the path leading down to a line of covered, dead bodies. There goes my plan for a quick walk around the house. The air up here is fine, but I wonder what it smells like over there after a day of decomposition.
“Boxcar.”
I breathe out through my nostrils as Fox closes the back door behind him. I scan the yard one more time, prolonging the inevitable conversation just a little bit longer before I turn around and face him.
Fox tilts his head. “What’s up?” he asks me.
“Nothing,” I answer. “Just getting some fresh—”
“Come on, man. It’s me,” he says. “What’s going on?”
I scratch my neck. “I don’t know, Fox. Is it? Is this you?”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I knew you were a Snake Eyes agent, but I...” I pause. “It never really hit me until today exactly what that meant. I mean, you... are not the guy who pulled me out of that building out in the desert.”
“Okay, yeah.” He nods once. “I’ve had to do some bad things to survive. We all have.”
“No, Fox. Sniping two guys to stop them from killing me and Caleb was a bad thing to survive. What you did to Myra today was...” I shake my head. “You’ve said before that you had to play along and pretend to be the perfect agent to get by, but... you’re not pretending anymore. You’re plastic.”
He frowns in confusion. “What?”
“Sorry.” I sigh, shaking off my nerves. “Caleb would have gotten that.”
“Box, all that I’ve done, everything I do, is for Dani,” he says. “To find her. To protect her.”
“At what cost?”
“At every cost.”
“Well, is she all you care about?” I ask. “Do you even give a shit about finding Caleb at all?”
He takes a step back. “Okay, Box. I know you’re pissed off right now, but you just asked me that with a straight face.”
“Is that a no?”
“Of course, I care about finding Caleb,” he says, his voice rising. “Did you forget that I’m the one who convinced her to stay behind? That I’m the one who told her to go with Dani instead?”
I look away.
“Because I haven’t forgotten,” he says. “I think about that every minute. I think about her and your baby... and I can hardly look at you at all because this is my fault. So, yes. I focus on Dani because if I think about Caleb, too, it’ll tear me apart.” He turns but spins back around. “And don’t you dare shame me for doing what needed to be done. Can you honestly say that if it were Caleb in Dani’s place, you wouldn’t have done the same?”
“Yes,” I answer, believing it to be true. “I would have found another way. Because I know that if I did what you did, Caleb would never look at me again.”
Fox drops his head.
I take a deep breath, finding the courage to say what needs to be said. “Listen, after this is all over, I don’t want you around my family anymore, Fox.”
He stares at me for a moment, his eyes blank. For a second, I think I see my friend actually looking back at me, but I can’t be sure anymore. Is this really Fox Fitzpatrick? Or is this the wolf who wears Fox’s face?
Finally, he nods. “That’s your call,” he says.
I bite down, fighting the urg
e to take it back as he turns around and walks inside.
Dammit. That did not feel great.
I linger on the porch, not ready to go back inside just yet. The stars above me begin to shine through the coming dark. I think of Afghanistan. And the last time I was here. We look up at the exact same star fields all the time. It makes you wonder, do the stars look back? Do they notice how much we change, even when they don’t?
Probably not. They’re just stupid stars.
And that dead body stench is starting to waft over here.
I head back inside to find them all gathered around my laptop on the table.
“What’s going on?” I ask, a bit suspicious of them hovering over my things.
Sofia moves over to let me through, and I see the headline in the browser window.
ROXIE ROBERTS CONFIRMED DEAD IN HOUSE FIRE.
News footage rolls at the top of the article, some head talking over shots of Fox and Dani’s house in Los Angeles engulfed in flames.
“They found a body at the scene,” Lilah reads. “DNA evidence points to Dani.”
“Wait.” I furrow my brow in confusion. “Why would they…?”
“They want to make sure no one comes looking for her,” Dante says. “Faking a death is easier to deal with than a missing person’s case.”
Lilah chortles. “Classic Snake Eyes.”
Sofia rubs Fox’s arm. “It’s not real, Fox,” she says, comforting him.
He stares at the screen, his face as blank as it was outside. “It feels real,” he says, his voice heavy and cold.
I think of Afghanistan again. Of Caleb collapsing in my arms after she was told that Fox had been killed. That was real, as real as it could have been for us.
Fox turns and walks away from the laptop, quietly disappearing down the dark hallway.
Chapter 10
Caleb
“Bon Appetite, Ms. Fawn.”
I glance up from my plate. Marilyn Black smiles at me from across the dining room table and raises her fork, balancing a healthy bite of grilled salmon and some sort of fancy rice dish. My gaze falls to the silver cobra necklace around her neck — the same shape as that damned tattoo they insist on branding all their agents with.
“You are eating for two now, aren’t you?” She chuckles.
I pull my hands from my lap, knocking the handcuffs against the giant wooden table. The sound echoes through the room, bouncing off the gaudy decorations and ancient, ugly furniture.
I grab the knife beside my plate and Marilyn’s brow rises. “Where is Dani?” I ask.
Marilyn sets her fork down. “Ms. Roberts has been given separate accommodations,” she answers.
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” I ask. “Is that what we’re calling kidnapping and dosing her to sleep through a flight halfway across the country?”
She sighs and wipes her mouth on her cloth napkin before setting it back down in her lap. “Ms. Fawn—”
“I want to see my friend,” I say over her.
“She is no longer your concern.”
“She is, actually. That’s kind of how friendship works.”
“If I were you, I would concern myself with my husband and my child.” She picks up her wineglass. “Just what would Mr. Carson think if he saw you in this condition? You must be starving. And you’re skin and bones already...”
I tighten my grip on the knife. “Let me and Dani go, and I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me.”
“You are not a prisoner here, Ms. Fawn.”
I rattle my cuffs. “Is that right?”
Marilyn chuckles. “Please, Caleb,” she says, tilting her head. “I didn’t bring you here to hurt you. Or threaten you. In fact, quite the contrary. I’m treating you with respect. The least you could do is offer me the same courtesy.” She picks up her fork again. “Now, please, let us enjoy our meal.”
I snatch my fork off the table and stab my piece of salmon. She watches as I hastily break off a chunk and shove it into my mouth. I even chew with my mouth open. Fancy bitch.
But Marilyn just smiles and takes another slow sip of her wine.
“What did you bring me here for?” I ask, chewing.
“Uh-uh-uh.” She waves a finger. “That’s more of an after-dinner conversation.”
I glance around in annoyance, taking in the finer details of my location. Deep red curtains. Golden figurines. A tiny Z carved into the handle of the silverware. That damned cobra necklace again and… the diamond ring on her finger?
Dani’s vintage engagement ring?
Not cool, lady.
“It’s a nightmare, isn’t it?” Marilyn asks, smirking at me. “I mean, for a family so well-off you’d think they’d hire a decent decorator.”
I take another bite of my fish as boots echo in from down the hall.
A man walks into the dining room and grins, clapping his hands as he nears the table. “Marilyn, I must say, when you deliver, you deliver.”
She throws on a wicked smile. “I am quite pleased to hear that, Gio. Satisfied clients are what I live for.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m completely satisfied... yet,” he says, tilting his head. “We do seem to be missing one...”
“And as soon as I hear from my team overseas, you’ll be the first to know,” she says, the words stiff and rehearsed. “Do give my compliments to Beatrix. The meal is wonderful, as always.”
“I’ll be happy to pass it on. Thank you.” His gaze juts toward me and his smile sticks a little longer as he eyes my handcuffs. “Will you be staying long?” he asks Marilyn.
“I’ll be staying until I can get a completely satisfied out of you,” she says. “And I wouldn’t dream of missing a Zappia wedding. The last one was positively beautiful.”
“Yes.” Gio bites his cheek. “Well, perhaps this one will stick a little longer.”
Marilyn laughs. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed and my guns loaded.”
He grins. “I’ll leave you to finish your meal in peace. It’s a pleasure to have you here, Marilyn.”
She raises her glass and winks. “The pleasure is all mine, Gio.”
He offers me a passive glance as he turns back around and walks out of the room.
As soon as he’s gone, Marilyn’s smile drops. “Repugnant man,” she mutters with a sigh. “The whole lot of ‘em, but...” She shrugs. “A client is a client.”
I blink, shifting uncomfortably. “What wedding?” I ask her.
“That, Ms. Fawn,” she brings her glass to her lips again, “is none of your concern.”
I put my fork down hard and she raises her brow again. “What did you bring me here for?” I ask, my anger lingering beneath the surface.
Marilyn nods and sets her glass down. “All right, then,” she says, softly clearing her throat. “I would like to offer you a job.”
I snort. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I never joke about my work,” she says. “No, Ms. Fawn, I am quite serious.”
I drop my cuffed hands into my lap. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have the skill-set you require from your agents,” I say. “I’m not a mass murderer.”
She smiles. “My agents make up a small part of what Snake Eyes does,” she says. “We would find a place for you, Caleb. For you and your talented husband. You would never have to touch another gun ever again if you’d like.”
“No,” I answer. “But since you mention it, the last time you offered my talented husband a job, you tried to kill him a week later.”
“An unfortunate oversight, I’m afraid,” she says with a sigh. “This is what happens when you don’t cross your T’s and dot your I’s in this business.”
“Your men tried to kill Boxcar because of an oversight?”
“I was very impressed with Mr. Carson’s work and I would, of course, be willing to fully compensate him for the trauma my late agents may have caused… should you accept your positions.”
I gawk at her. “I’m sorry. Is this a bit?”
I ask. “Do you have any self-awareness for how insane you sound right now?”
“I understand that this might be confusing for you—”
“Understatement.”
“—but I would advise that you keep your head, Ms. Fawn,” she says, her voice hardening. “Please do not take my respect and patience for granted.”
I close my mouth.
“I took a personal interest in your career,” she continues. “Such a beautiful young woman, the whole world out in front of you. With your grades, you could have gone to any school you wanted, done anything you desired, but you enlisted in the armed forces. Why?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Marilyn stares me down. “Why, Caleb?”
I shift on my chair. “Because… my father was killed overseas,” I answer.
“And you wanted to be like him?”
“My father was my hero. He was a life-long soldier. A great dad. Honorable.” I shrug a shoulder. “Who wouldn’t want to be like that?”
Marilyn takes a deep breath, her eyes drowning in sympathy. “I remember what it was like to see my father that way, too. Unfortunately…” She presses her lips together. “Well, sometimes the people we love aren’t who they appear to be at all.”
I clench my jaw as she picks up her knife and fork again.
“I’ll give you a day to think it over,” she says. “And I do encourage you to make your husband and child your top concern. I would hate it if something ill were to befall you.”
And there it is. The veiled threat meant to make your recruitment into Snake Eyes that much more voluntary.
“If I accept, will you let Dani go?” I ask.
Marilyn smiles. “I’m afraid she’s not mine to give — though I do appreciate tenacity when I see it.”
“I’ll pay you,” I say. “I want to hire Snake Eyes to break Dani out of here.”
“Oh, honey.” She laughs. “You couldn’t afford that.”
My eyes fall to her cobra necklace again. “If I accept, will you leave Fox alone?”
Marilyn stabs the table with her knife. I nearly jolt out of my seat from the swift, violent jerk of her hand.