Page 39 of Redeeming Violet

“If Zane’s dick comes out I might gag,” Jasmin laughed. “Listen Declan, your sister fucked up. I think she understands now just how badly. We’ve kept her safe this far, and we will continue to do so. Zane is…well…Zane. He’s gonna get his digs in where he can. If he didn’t know she meant something to Jaxon and really believed she’d committed crimes against the country for any sort of gain, he wouldn’t be calling her anything. Her ass would be locked in a hole never to be heard from again. You can trust and believe that. The fact that Zane himself has called in favors to make sure at the end of this your sister comes out not only alive but clean says a lot. One thing Zane hates is owing markers. So, before you get all growly and big brother, you are three minutes older, right?” She stopped and waited for Declan to nod. “That’s what I thought. So, all big brother, you might wanna check your shit and realize we’re on her side and be happy he’s calling her Loose Lips and not some of the more colorful names he had for her at the beginning.”

What the fuck did Jasmin say? Zane had called in favors and now owed a marker for Violet. Holy fuck. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to thank him or if I was pissed I was so out of the loop being locked down here. When Violet relaxed her hand in mine, I remembered I’d rather be locked in the basement with her.

“We gotta plan. Wheels up oh-six-hundred. I’ll make the arrangements. Declan, Violet can’t leave here – we can give you the building for a few hours so the two of you can get to know each other, but I’d feel better if Jaxon stays here,” Zane offered.

“Yeah. I’d like that, if it’s alright with Jaxon and Violet.”

Jaxon and Violet.

Fuck, but I liked the sound of that - too much. After Declan left, Violet and I had to talk. It was time to shit or get off the pot. I couldn’t take the uncertainty of where her head was at. I also needed to rectify her notion that what we’d shared was meaningless to me.

“I’d like that,” Violet answered.

Eric, Zane, and Jasmin stood, and Zane spoke again, “I’ll take Jasmin and Eric back with me, and leave the Suburban here for you. You have a place to stay?” He was looking at Declan.

“Hadn’t thought of it. I’ll grab a hotel or pitch a tent out back somewhere. I’m good,” he answered.

“When you’re done here stop by the office. You can stay at my penthouse tonight, and we can go over the SITREPS to make sure you’re up to speed. I don’t need you getting dead on my watch. The fucking CIA might bill me for losing one of their assets. And while we’re on the topic of spooks, you really need to find a new employer. The whole goddamned agency is FUBAR.”

“You offering me a job?” Declan chuckled. “The fuckers haven’t given me my two percent cost of living increase yet.”

“You come back alive - I might need another janitor.” Zane tossed Declan a set of keys and placed a phone on the table in front of him. “It’s secure and everyone’s numbers are programmed in. Call me on my cell when you’re on your way to the office - I’ll have to go down to meet you.”

“’Preciate it. See you in a few.” Declan stood and offered Zane his hand. “For everything.”

Everyone said their goodbyes, but before Jasmin exited she turned back and looked at Violet. “Thanks. And don’t forget to put the ointment on that powder burn or it will scar.”

“Damn, thanks for reminding me. I’ll have Jax put it on later.”

The door closed, and Declan turned to me. “Powder burn?”

Violet’s eyes widened like a five-year-old who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. After she relayed the story of what happened in South Sudan, and me correcting her when she tried to downplay what had actually happened, Declan shook his head and I admired his restraint not to scold her for not following orders and putting herself in danger.

It took awhile for the awkwardness to wear off, but when it did it was a sight to behold. Violet blossomed; she was animated and happy, telling Declan about growing up, high school, college, her time in the FBI with the Behavior Analysis Unit. She laughed at his stories, cried at some. All in all, they were both happy to finally have come together.

The trouble came when Declan asked her to explain how Timothy Clark had approached her and the months that followed. She shrunk into herself and tears formed in her eyes. She’d convinced herself this was where her brother would reject her, possibly rebuke her, and not want to be in her life. I didn’t need her to tell me she was feeling all of those things; her body language told the story. She’d reached under the table and fumbled in my lap until her hand found mine and she held on to me as a life line. It might’ve made me a dick, but it felt so fucking good to have her look to me for strength.

When she was done with her story, she looked up at Declan and with tear-filled eyes she waited for his censure.

“Motherfuckers!” Violet startled when Declan slammed his fist on the table. “I’m so fucking sorry, sis. He’s going to pay for every minute of worry you’ve felt.”

“What?” she asked.

“I promise you, every minute you’ve stressed and worried, his ass is going to pay,” he told her.

“You’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m fucking furious. They used you, threatened you, exploited your loyalty to me and the others. Goddamn right I’m mad.”

I decided then I liked Declan Crenshaw. He was the type of man I’d want to know.

“At me?” she whispered.

Declan leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the two back legs. He contemplated his answer and I braced, fearing his next statement would erase my previous thoughts about liking him. He brought the chair forward on all four legs and placed his forearms on the table.

“No, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the situation. I’m pissed that because of me you were put in the situation you were in and currently are. It fucking kills me that I wasn’t there for you and you had to shoulder the burden by yourself. But Violet, never do that shit again. When I volunteered for long-term cover, I knew what I was agreeing to. I’m willing to give my life for my assignment. All of us are. That being said, none of us want to go out because some fuckwit was able to release our identities. But, that’s part of the game. You have to pay to play.”

“I don’t understand why the CIA would send you back to Latin America if people knew you there. They’d recognize you. That’s stupid,” she said.