“We’re doing everything we can.” Even if we hadn’t met previously, I still would have heard the deceit in her tone. It was as obvious as the sun in the sky. “Well,Iam.”
“But your hands are tied with bureaucratic tape.” When she nods, agreeing with me, I mutter, “Mine aren’t.”
“Maddox…” I don’t give her the chance to spill the concern I see in her eyes. I dump a bunch of bills on the counter to pay our tab, hit her with a wink to show my thanks for her support the past four years, then spin on my heels and walk away.
I’m not surprised when a familiar ringtone plays through the speakers of Caidyn’s Jeep not even half a mile later. Smith doesn’t just have eyes all over Dimitri’s residence. He has all of Hopeton covered as well.
“Anything?” Rocco asks when the click of our call connecting advises him I’ve answered.
He can’t see me, but I shrug anyway. “I’m going to head to Vegas for a couple of days. There’s an old contact there that may give us an insight into India’s mindset.”
“She’s a fucking psycho. What more do you need to know?”
Rocco laughs about Smith’s interruption before asking, “Want me to come with?”
“No,” I steer my car toward the only exit and entry point of Hopeton before adding to my reply, “The intel Dimitri received about a Russian invasion is valid. India’s current john is of Russian heritage.”
Rocco curses while Smith asks for further details. I give him everything I have that doesn’t include Trey Corbyn. I’m not being sneaky. I am merely ensuring I don’t squash the toes of the man who breathed air back into my sister’s lungs. Nikolai’s attention didn’t merely return Justine to the woman she once was, he helped her leap over her previous standing. Saint and Landon want to believe she’s a better woman now because she’s matured. I know that isn’t the case. There’s good and bad in all of us, you’ve just got to find a person who’ll cherish both sides of the coin. Justine and Nikolai do that for each other.
There’s more sentiment in my tone than I care to admit when I promise, “I’ll keep you updated as I go. I expect you to do the same.”
I wait for Rocco to hum out his agreement before ending our call, then I flatten my foot to the floor. Hopeton isn’t as seedy as it once was, but it still has a long way to go before it doesn’t make my skin crawl when I’m in it.
I make it home in just enough time to see Nikolai on his knees in front of Justine. It’s surreal seeing someone the world has enamored as this massive, untouchable being at the feet of my baby sister, pleading for her hand in marriage.
It shows the true power of love.
Strength is pointless when the faintest grin can buckle your legs out from beneath you.
I had that type of love with Demi, and I will have it again.
It just won’t be in this lifetime.
After watching Justine grant Nikolai’s every wish with an overexcited bob of her chin, I head to my room to pack a bag for a couple of nights away. My intuition could be completely askew. It’s been a bit funky since I left prison, but part of me wonders if that’s because I’m not accustomed to being in these surroundings without Demi. I was obsessed with her since the second grade—I still fucking am—and that’s why I need to listen to my gut.
Even if my intuition is leading me astray, staying here will make me insane, so I’m merely picking the lesser of two evils.
34
Maddox
When I walk down the gangway of McCarran International Airport the following day, a husky laugh leaves my lips. I should have realized a woman with enough gall to plead guilty to a murder she didn’t commit wouldn’t hesitate to bend the rules.
Agent Machini won’t follow any guy out of a bar in Hopeton like a barfly eager for a one-night stand, but she has no hesitation standing at the end of the gangway in a pair of snug jeans and a midriff top.
If I didn’t know she was an agent, I would have pinned her as a dancer. I’m not going to say an erotic dancer. Just because I can’t see her gun doesn’t mean she isn’t carrying. I don’t want to get shot.
“Don’t look at me like that, Maddox,” Agent Machini says with narrowed eyes before she snatches my gym bag out of my hand like she’s eager to search it for contraband. “I’m not the only one undergoing a makeover today.” Before I can ask her what the fuck she’s on about, she squashes her finger against my lips. “India has a type. Averydistinct type, and after some research, I think you could very much be her type…” She drags her eyes down my body. “With the right number of accessories.”
She pinches my chance to seek clarification on her plan by darting through the thousands of commuters arriving in Vegas with me. Her pace is so fast, I have to double the length of my strides to catch up to her.
The thuds of my heart match the thumps my feet took when our taxi pulls in front of a tattoo parlor on the outskirts of the strip a couple of minutes later. I have an extensive collection of tattoos, but I’ve not added to my collection since Demi’s death. In all honesty, I lost interest in a lot of things I once loved. Tattoos included.
Worry she’s about to mess up my mindset even more than my body art flies out the window when Agent Machini explains, “Tails usually works on the set of Hollywood blockbusters, but he agreed to meet us here today to help with your disguise.”
“Tails? As in a tail on a dog?”
She looks like she wants to sock me in the arm, but instead, she answers, “Tails, as in the operating system that preserves privacy and anonymity.” She hands the cab driver a bundle of bills before slipping onto the footpath. Once I follow suit, she adds, “He’s under the impression you are part of the Bureau. If possible, I’d like to keep it that way.”
