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“I am.” Gia cleans up the images on her tablet screen and places them side by side. She calls us over to check out her work.
“See now? It’s the same facial structure, but you can see the telltale peeling around the edges of the tribal tattoo that says it’s a fake. He’s clearly working for LTC.”
“It looks like the same asshole,” I confirm.
“I’ll do you one better,” Wild Man says and holds up a photo of a man in a suit and tie with the American flag behind him. “The asshole in both of those images is this fucker right here. Right?”
“Who the fuck is that?” It’s like every fucking time we think we’re getting a handle on something, another fucking thing crops up. “Looks like a professional photo.”
“That’s because it is.” He turns over the photo, and I see block handwriting. “The photo says ATF agent Jack Birmingham. He’s all over Geoffrey’s notes as a rogue agent he suspects is on LTC’s payroll.”
“He’s been on the job for close to two decades,” Gia confirms as she types quickly, wearing her research face. “The files you sent over contain a lot of shit on Birmingham.”
Wild Man nods. “He’s been rigging shit for Arturo and LTC for a long time behind the scenes. Clearing the way for dirty shipments to go through by doctoring documents. Morgan has all kinds of documents with Birmingham’s signature on them.”
I frown. “He used his own name?”
“Fuck no,” Gia confirms. “He’s got half a dozen aliases he’s used over the years on various assignments. Garrison Cross, Jack Havoc, Max Steele. This dude has a ton of covers. It’s probably why he’s still undercover.”
“Shit. I wonder if Aria knows this Jack character.”
Wild Man’s expression is full of sympathy, meaning it’s my job to find out. “Let us know, brother.” He claps me on the back with a knowing smile. “Good luck. I need to let Ace know what we found ASAP.”
Gia puts the laptop and tablet in her bag and gets up, ready to leave.. “I’m sorry your girlfriend is having a shit time of things right now.”
“Later, Gia.”
She burst out laughing. “Later, Lucky.”
I see them out and inhale several deep breaths, letting them out slowly to prepare myself for Aria’s tears. I’m a tough son of a bitch, but like most men on the planet, a teary-eyed woman makes me feel helpless as fuck.
Aria’s tears, though? They make me want to fix it all and dry those tears. Hell, who am I kidding? Those tears make me want to be her fucking hero.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Aria
I can’t believe this shit. Even now, a full day later, I’m still in shock about my parents. “How many more truth bombs will I have to face before this is all over?”
It’s a rhetorical question since I’m alone in my room right now. Lucky came in last night to check on me, and I cried all over him. He probably ran from my room like his ass was on fire when I finally fell asleep.
Frannie once told me I could handle anything that comes my way, but I’m not so sure. All this new information is hard to digest.
My father is probably responsible for my mom’s death, and that truth is hard to swallow. I sit up in bed and stretch my stiff muscles.
“All these years, I thought he kept me on a tight leash out of love and affection, maybe a little bit of parental obligation.”
It’s laughable that I ever thought that, but the truth is Daddy kept me close to make sure his enemies never got a chance to take me out too.
Take me out?
Who the fuck am I, and how is this my life right now?
The only thing worse than how I’m feeling is that I can’t even tell Frannie any of this without putting her in danger.
I can’t talk to Frannie, and I’m not sure if I can trust Lucky anymore. That makes me feel even more alone. My stomach growls, and I look out the window, noticing the sun is past the house. Shit, I’ve slept most of the day away.
After a quick shower to do something about my puffy eyes, I throw on some loungewear and search for food. The house is eerily quiet, so I hurry down the stairs and into the kitchen. The sight I find shocks me to my core, Lucky standing at the stove, stirring.
