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“No rush. Take your time. The day is still young and as you know, we don’t have typical nine-to-five workdays.”
Nodding, Voodoo repeated her thanks and sighed when Steve left the apartment. How had her life gotten so off track that she had to go into hiding again?
She unpacked her belongings, settled down onto the sofa, and called her sister, who had just arrived in Austin.
“How was your flight?”
“Long. I love living in Europe, but it sure makes for a long commute. I hope the sheets are clean at your place, because all I want to do is drop dead. Sorry, poor choice of words.”
“Whatever, the sheets are clean. I changed them out on Monday, like I always do.”
“Some habits are hard to break.” Their mother could’ve been a drill sergeant with her cleanliness standards.
“I still think you’d be safer if you stayed at ALIAS.”
“No can do. They have law enforcement coming and going out of that building, and I’m allergic to them. Besides, I don’t want to get in their way.”
“First, if Byte can keep herself from being arrested, I know you can too. Second, their place is locked down like Fort Knox, and I’m talking about electronically as well as physically. No one could break through their firewalls thanks to Byte.”
“That’s the other reason. Byte has turned into a gray hat. She may take from others, but now it’s used with the best of intentions. I’m still a black hat and don’t foresee that ever changing.”
“Now you sound like Byte. Daisy, please reconsider staying at an ALIAS apartment. I want to know you’re safe.”
“Fine, but I will be going to your place today or tomorrow. I want to make sure no one has tried to get in. I also want to ensure there are no bugs or tracking devices on-site.”
“I’m sure there’s not. Security is pretty good at my place. I’ve listed your name with the security team there, so you should be able to gain access under your legal name.”
“Right. Now tell me about you. How are you holding up?”
Voodoo spent the next five minutes telling her sister the truth, truths that she hadn’t wanted to admit even to herself.
“He looked good. Granted, I only saw him for thirty or forty seconds, but it was enough to know he’d only gotten more handsome in the last five years. He’s definitely not withered away in my absence.”
“Nor have you,” Daisy reminded her.
“That’s because I couldn’t. I’ve had to watch my back this entire time, and in the end, none of it mattered.”
“How did he find you? I thought I’d buried you so deep no one would uncover your identity.”
“Byte said it was something he did that triggered her spidery senses. You’ll have to ask her. Honestly, at the time, it didn’t matter how he found me, just that he had.”
“I get that. Okay, you take care of yourself and we’ll get this handled over here. I’m getting an Uber over to your office. Is your car still there?”
“Yes. Ghost has the keys, as well as everything you’ll need to access my apartment.”
“Good. Now go to work and end this drug problem in San Antonio. I’ve got this.” Voodoo had no doubt Byte and Chaos would do whatever it took to find Carter and demand answers. She’d made Ghost and Ivy promise to not hurt Carter. Voodoo just wanted him to leave her alone and move on. Ghost had promised to take care of it and would even have their attorney draw up some divorce papers. In the end, Voodoo’s goal was to return to the life she had created.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Nessa had encouraged Carter and outright demanded that he stop with the rabbit hole he’d been tunneling. Each time he thought he’d found a thread to pull, it led to a dead end. Nessa said he was only hurting himself by continuing to search for her. No matter how many times he told her he had to find his wife, Nessa stood by his side, ready to console him when it failed to lead him to Gwen... and it always failed.
Carter regretted taking comfort in a woman he didn’t love. He was a cad, and he knew it. Nessa should’ve hated him, but instead, she was always there to welcome and absorb his pain. Being with her was a large part of the reason he left the agency. She was a crutch for him. He knew he was using her, but she continued to offer support. She wanted more—no, she deserved more—than he would ever give. She’d offered him a chance at a new life, maybe one that included children. She begged him to accept the truth and move on—to give them a real chance—but he couldn’t. The only thing he could offer her was the freedom to live her own life. To get all the things she wanted. To do that, he had to leave her and everything they’d developed back in Washington. He had to let her go and find her happy ever after.
She hadn’t accepted his news gracefully, not that he blamed her. She had developed real feelings for him, feelings he couldn’t reciprocate. She might’ve been hurt by his decision, but he knew she’d appreciate it later. Which was why he was undecided about calling and giving her an update. Would it set her back, or did she have a right to know their arrangement was now forever off the table? He would want to know, he reasoned as the call connected.
“Carter, are you okay?” The earnestness of her concern was painful to hear. He shouldn’t have called her, but it was too late, so he answered truthfully.
“I’m better than okay. I found her, Nessa. I found her in Texas.”
