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CHAPTER31
A month later, Katie was in her office, trying to get back to normal. She’d been back at her position of CEO of her nonprofit for a week, trying to catch up on things. Annual tax work had to be filed; next year’s functions needed to be ironed out, and the scholarship recipients needed to be chosen by the end of the month.
She looked at her calendar, ready to start her day.
Brunch with her parents was the only thing on it right now, which meant she should be able to knock a chunk out of her to-do list.
Her phone buzzed from the receptionist’s desk.
“You have a visitor. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he’s being ridiculously polite in his insistence to see you.” She didn’t miss the humor in Patty’s voice as she spoke, and Katie’s curiosity was piqued.
“Okay, give me a minute and then send him in.” She cleared the scholarship files off her desk, putting these teenagers’ personal information in a drawer. Straightening up the rest so her desk didn’t look as scattered as she felt, she leaned back in her chair, ready for whatever.
Her mind was all over the place. She’d tried desperately to compartmentalize, only visiting the horrors of her time in Honduras when she was at home, alone, but every now and then, she would get a random flash of something horrific, and it would all come rushing back.
Especially Antonio. How he’d left her in that cage for weeks, how he’d then cared for her as if he hadn’t known she was there, hadn’t put her there. He had to have, honestly. Any other alternative was entirely too coincidental.
That she’d accidentally found herself on trafficker’s radar and they’d kidnapped her, the same traffickers that Antonio worked for?
Yeah, even with all the torture he’d gone through at the end, she still didn’t buy that he wasn’t in on it somehow.
But then, why had they tortured him? Slashed his chest?
Her thoughts were interrupted, thankfully, before she went back down that dark rabbit hole, and a smartly dressed, obviously military man, strode into her office.
“Captain Keane Bryson, ma’am. You may remember me as Ghost. But I had black paint all over my face, and you weren’t really in great shape.” He held out his hand respectfully to shake hers, and she could suddenly lift her arm to reciprocate because of the sudden emotion coursing through her.
“It’s so nice to see you again. Please sit over here. Can I get you a drink?” She gestured to the more casual seating area in the corner, with a small couch and chair.
He sat, folding his long frame into the chair. She managed to weakly walk to the couch and sank into it, after he told her he didn’t need a drink.
“I was just coming by to check up and make sure you were okay after your ordeal.” When her mother called it an ordeal, it was because she couldn’t think of another word to use to discuss something she didn’t want to discuss. Her mouth always twisted in a weird way. It wasn’t because she was being patronizing or anything; she just clearly didn’t want to know what Katie had been through, obviously imagining the worst. The way Keane said it implied it actually was an ordeal, and he wasn’t trying to gloss over or minimize anything.
“I’m fine. Thank you.” She thanked him for more than just his words, but she didn’t know how to express gratitude for saving a life and killing all the bad guys in a fiery explosion.
“I also wanted to give you some backstory. I tend to be a little bit of a busybody and probably stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I’m not sure you actually know anything about Lobo Gris, and I wanted to make sure you did.”
She stiffened. Did she? What could he possibly say that would make her think any different? They’d said he was undercover or something like that, but that’s not how undercover cops worked. She knew enough about government to know that.
“It’s taken a lot of digging for me to get this information, and the fact that I am… who I am is the only reason people opened up to me, so you can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”
“I’m honestly not sure I want to—”
“He loves you. Please… Let me explain, and then you can do with the information what you want to. I don’t normally go talking about classified information like this, and I don’t tell other peoples’ stories either, but you really need to know some things.”
She took a deep breath, letting it out on a heavy sigh. Maybe she did need to see a therapist. She really didn’t know how many compartments she had in her brain to put all this stuff.
“Okay. Shoot.”
“We were in basic together. Way back when we were practically kids. He came from a nice family, but poor. They lived on the border near Uvalde. He joined so he could have a good income, travel, and send money back to his family. He was good, probably better than me, and they were looking at him to take the special forces path like I did. Right after the test, though, his dad died. When he went back for the funeral, his mom was sick, so he didn’t come back. We called him Lobo Gris. He was a good guy, but had a dark side, so he was sorta gray, you know?” Keane leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable with his story, hitting a stride. “So after his mom died, he was recruited hard by the State Department. They must have gotten ahold of his test scores and knew how good he was. They put him undercover in their human trafficking department.”
He leaned forward, making sure he had her attention. And he did. She was engrossed in his story.
“He was working with the United Nations, the US Department of State, to take down the largest human trafficking ring in Honduras, fourth largest in the world. He knew it wasn’t going to be a quick job. He would have to rise in the ranks, gather intelligence, report regularly. And he did all that perfectly. The only problem was, the only man who knew who he was and what he was doing at the time, died of a massive heart attack six years ago. Antonio slipped through the cracks. Was forgotten. Left hanging. Whatever euphemism you want to use, he was left to his own devices. And he couldn’t get out without giving himself away.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Okay, sure. The story was making her feelings toward Antonio soften. But she was still confused. What did he expect her to do with the information?
“Because he saw something in you that made him want to change. Before you two met, and I’ve talked to him, but the details of that are still fuzzy, but before you met, he had gone so deep he’d forgotten who he was. You made him remember. You gave him a reason to get out. And the world needs to thank you for bringing a good man back to us.”
