Dangerous Pursuit (The Pursuit #3)

21 Choices

CHOICES

Jackson

“W hat the fuck is the FBI doing here?” I ask more to myself than anything.

“I don’t know, but hurry and open the door. You can’t leave them out there,” Mia says frantically.

Through the peephole are two agents, a man and woman in suits, standing like statues while holding their badges up. I open the door and take a closer look at each one. They seem legit to me. I’m about to ask what this is about but get the answer before having the chance.

“I’m Agent Roger Bale, and this is Agent Liz Wallace. Agent Wallace and I would like to speak with Mia. May we come in?”

“I’m assuming we don’t have a choice,” I say, moving aside for them to enter.

“You always have a choice, but cooperating makes our jobs easier.” They walk in and see Mia standing off to the side.

Her face is pale, and she’s shaking like a leaf, which prompts me to shut the door quickly and go wrap her in my arms. “Shhh. It’ll be okay. I’m here, sweetheart.” She seems to calm as I rub her back.

“Mia, I’m Agent Wallace. Would you mind if we ask a few questions?” Agent Wallace is the softer of the two, which is probably why she’s the one to address Mia.

“Sure.” The fear in her voice pierces my heart, and I wish I could carry her off and make all her problems go away.

“Let’s sit down at the kitchen table,” I suggest. “Can I get you water or anything?” They both respond no as they take their seats. “Mia?”

“No, I’m fine.”

I give her the look and see the tiniest hint of a smile. If my only job in life were to bring a smile to her face, I’d be content.

We sit across from the agents and I hold Mia’s hand in mine, squeezing it in encouragement.

“First, are you okay with Mr. Soloman being present for this discussion?” Agent Wallace asks. “So far, this matter is strictly related to you, although we’ll get to Mr. Soloman in a moment.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Mia doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes. I want him to stay.”

“Noted. Is it okay if we record this?” Mia nods. “Your answers will need to be verbal from here on out.”

“Yes, you can record it.” She states firmly.

“Great, thank you, Mia. Let’s start by telling you what we know. You’ve been receiving visits from two men, one of whom you know as Frank and the other as Jay. Is that correct?”

“Yes?” Mia answers with the accent of a question.

“Good. So, here’s what we’ve learned so far. They’ve been coming to collect a debt resulting from your father, Roland Marcos, who took a loan to finance his gambling habit and skipped town with the money. How are we doing so far?”

“That’s correct.” The anxiousness is present in her voice. My hand squeezes hers, reminding her that I’m by her side.

“Then somehow, they discover you’re a poker genius, and decide to pimp you out, so to speak, to play at their organized games and win, essentially racketeering their own system. And each time you win, the amount goes toward your father’s debt. Are we still on the right track?”

“Yes, but—” They cut her off and continue.

“So, they text you where to be and when to be there, and after you win, you leave it near your front door so they can grab it the next day. Still tracking?”

“Yes, but how do you know all that?” Mia asks.

“We’ll get to that soon. Here’s where we need help filling in the blanks. Can you explain how they learned about your particular skill and how they persuaded you to cooperate? We’re also unclear as to the extent of the amount owed. We have more questions, but this will complete the narrative to date.”

Enough is enough. I’m not letting Mia talk until we know why they’re here. “How about before she answers your questions, you tell us your intentions and why you’re here. And how about whether she should have an attorney present.”

“See, when people start throwing around the word ‘attorney,’ things generally go south, especially when we’re here to help you, Mia,” Agent Bale pipes up. They’re clearly going for the good cop, bad cop routine, trying to play Mia.

“Then prove it and tell me why you’re here,” Mia responds, filling my heart with pride. God, she’s so strong. I don’t give her enough credit.

“Alright, let’s cut to the chase and see if we can move this along. We’ve been after this group of criminals for a while. They have worse operations than loan sharking and illegal gambling, but until we pinpointed you and your situation, we didn’t have anything solid to bring them in on. Now we do. If we can take them down on this, it could halt their more serious crimes while we’re at it.”

“How did you find out about me?” Mia asks, still bewildered.

“That’s where this guy comes in,” Agent Bale says, pointing to me. Fuck, I think I know where this is going. Goddammit. “If it weren’t for this guy, we might still be chasing our tails, but when a security firm started poking around, looking into the same guys we were, we decided to see why. Turns out, it was you.”

Fuck me.

Confusion is written all over Mia’s face. “What are you talking about?” she asks Agent Bale, then looks in my direction, turning the question on me and yanking her hand from my hold.

“Mia, I was going to tell you. I wanted to protect you, and since I didn’t know what was going on or how to do that, this was the only way I could think of.”

“What did you do, Jackson?” Her voice is filled with accusation as her eyes start to go glassy.

“They hurt you, Mia. I saw the bruises myself, and I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t leave you vulnerable and risk your safety, so I hired a security firm to watch over you. I was trying to help, Mia.” I’m frustrated that I’m not getting through to her.

“By having me followed? Are you insane? You can’t just violate someone’s privacy like that. How dare you?” She scoots her chair farther away, putting enough space between us that I can’t reach her.

“You were in danger, Mia, and you wouldn’t tell me what was happening. If you had just told me up front, I could’ve paid these guys off right away, and this whole mess would’ve been over by now.”

“Oh, so this is my fault? Right. I should’ve just told you , the asshole who made my life fucking miserable for two whole months. Just asked for help from the guy who hated my guts. How stupid of me, huh? No, what’s stupid is that I trusted you. What’s stupid is that I let you fool me.”

Her tears fall, breaking my heart, while both agents observe the conversation with intrigue. How can my world come crumbling down in a matter of minutes?

“Mia, I’m sorry. My hands were tied, and I did what I thought was necessary to keep you safe. That’s all I ever cared about. You were important to me long before I admitted it to myself. You need to understand.”

“No—we’re done, Jackson. I can’t trust you. Not only did you lie to me, but you put my mom in danger with your actions. You may have been trying to protect me, but you risked the most important person in my life. If Frank and Jay had found out about this like the FBI did, then she might be dead right now.”

Fuck, why didn’t I tell her when I had the chance? She might have taken it differently instead of being blindsided. I’m such an idiot, not to mention the reason the FBI is here at all.

“Mia, wait. I thought I was doing the right thing. I would never hurt you. I was only trying to protect you. You have to see that.” How can she not?

“All I see is someone who lied to me and kept secrets from the person he was supposed to be in love with.” She turns toward the agents. “Is there somewhere else we can finish this? I’d like to leave now.”

“Cer—” Agent Wallace starts to respond, but I’m not ready to give up yet.

“Mia, you know I love you. Please don’t leave. Let’s work this out so I can help you through this.”

She stands up, and the agents follow. “You’ve done enough to help, Jackson. You know, since you brought the FBI in, I don’t need you anymore.”

It’s the final blow. The air deflates from my lungs as I accept defeat.

She grabs her bag and walks out the door, and just like that, she’s gone, taking my heart with her. I’m not sure how to describe this ache in my chest. It’s like nothing I’ve felt before, and knowing I’m the only one to blame is the final nail in the coffin.

Mia

I rush to the elevator, not caring if they’re behind me. I’ll wait in the lobby if necessary, but I need to walk away before my resolve crumbles. I’m sobbing as I enter, pressing the button frantically, but before the doors shut completely, they stop them and step in. Agent Wallace hands me a tissue.

“I’m sorry,” I say through my sniffles. “I’ll be fine in a minute. Is there somewhere we can go other than my house? I don’t want to worry my mom.” My eyes widen from my sudden thought. “What if they find out about this and they go after her? She’s home alone. Is there anything you can do?” I’m panicking.

“It’s okay, Mia, she’s safe. We have someone watching your house 24/7 right now.”

“Thank God. So, can we go somewhere else, then?”

“Sure. Would you like something to eat or some coffee?” she asks as we make our way out of the building.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.”

They remain silent the entire way, leaving me to cry it out while they drive. Looking back, my reaction may have been harsh. I know he was trying to protect me, but it’s hard to come to terms with him doing it behind my back. Even at the time of my own confession, he said nothing. Would I have been mad if he had told me then? I’m sure finding out this way made it worse.

My phone has been pinging with texts from Jackson, telling me he’s sorry, that he loves me, that he’ll do anything to make it right. God, I said some terrible things to him. The fact that he’s still trying after that is a testament to his desperation. I’m tempted to respond but decide to get this over with first.

After arriving at the coffee shop down from my house, Agent Wallace starts in as soon as we’re seated with our drinks. “We’re going to start where we left off, all right?” I nod, staring down at my cup, my mind numb from the last hour. “So, as we put the pieces together about your situation, it became clear that you could put these guys behind bars by bringing them in for extortion, money laundering, illegal gambling, and why not tack on assault of a minor. We start there, then go after their boss who’s giving the orders.”

“Yeah, they mentioned their boss quite a bit, but never by name. It was always just ‘boss.’ So, how does this work exactly? Do I just give a statement, press charges, and then testify when the time comes?”

Agent Wallace has been nice, but I’m starting to lose my patience as she answers. “I wish it were that simple, Mia. This is where it gets tricky. First, you need to understand that you’re dealing with a very powerful crime family whose reach is wide. They have people on the inside everywhere, from the police to the government and even the courts. They also have handlers, like Frank and Jay, who make sure those individuals do what they ask by issuing threats and following through on them. It’s a dangerous organization to go up against and takes special precautions.”

“Okay, so what do you need me to do?” I just want her to get to the point already.

Agent Wallace continues, “Before we get to that, it’s important for you to know that these things take time. Pressing charges, gathering evidence, filing motions, and getting through a trial, if it comes to that, could take years. While this is all happening, these guys still have connections, meaning they can often eliminate the proof against them before it ever makes it to court, essentially ensuring their freedom. In this case, you’re that proof.”

I scoff. “So, you’re saying my life would be in danger even more than it is now if I were to help you? Why would I do it, then?”

Agent Bale takes a turn. “Were you aware that you’ve been participating in illegal gaming in the State of California and that the penalty is up to six months in jail and a fine of up to a thousand dollars per occurrence? You’ve been to four, maybe five games, so let’s see, that would be two years for good behavior and five thousand dollars. Or we could take your testimony and call it even.” I’ve decided I don’t like him—at all.

I cross my arms. “Which is only helpful if I’m alive, and from what it sounds like, that wouldn’t be for long, so I think I’m better off going to jail. You’re not selling your case much.”

“What if we offered you a place in our witness protection program? New identity, a new life—safety. You can choose where to live from a list of locations and, after the trial’s over, decide if you want to return to the life you have now or remain in your new one.”

“Let me get this straight: I can either let you put me in jail and fight charges for illegal gambling with money I don’t have or agree to testify for you and be placed in the witness protection program. Are there any other options?” Is this seriously happening right now? I can’t believe my life just fell apart in under an hour.

Agent Wallace answers, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but no. Remember, you would be an integral part of bringing justice to hundreds of people who have suffered at the hands of this organization. You’d be saving lives, Mia.”

“Exactly how does this protection thing work? Can I stay in contact with my family? Friends? Anyone? And what about money, a job? Where would I live? And my mom? I can’t leave her. Would—”

Bale puts his hand up to stop me. “Listen, there are a lot of details to work out, and we do all that while you’re safe at a secure location, which is our number one priority. As for your mom, she can go with you, but you both leave everyone behind. Not a single person will know where you are. The smallest tip can be traced. A noise in the background can give it away. No contact is allowed in the program.”

How can they be so matter-of-fact about this? They’re discussing uprooting my whole life like it’s no big deal.

I shake my head. “This isn’t something I can decide overnight.”

“Unfortunately, that’s all you have. Your window closes tomorrow at noon, and then we’ll decide for you,” Agent Bale says sternly.

“Meaning you’ll arrest me.”

“The choice is yours, Mia.” He says.

Some choice. “Gee, thanks, that’s so generous of you.”

“Think of the good that will come from this. I’m sorry you’re in this position. It’s a shitty hand you were dealt.” Agent Wallace’s pun doesn’t go unnoticed but isn’t appreciated under the circumstances.

“Can I go home now?” My reasonableness has worn off, and any more jokes and I just might lose it.

When it sinks in that yesterday was real and not a dream, I want to close my eyes and never wake. Mom and I stayed up late into the night while I confessed everything that had happened since Jay and Frank showed up. There were tears and apologies on both sides, hers from thinking I bore the burden alone and mine from keeping it from her.

We went over both options round and round, back and forth, weighing the pros and cons of each. The pro side had less to do with actual pros and more with what made one choice better than the other. The way I see it, there are no positives other than bringing this guy down and preventing him from hurting anyone else, which ultimately weighed heavily in our decision.

Mom was worried about the impact on me in both scenarios, considering it would be my jail time on one hand or saying goodbye to friends on the other. Finally, we did the only thing that made sense, so I texted the number they gave me, solidifying it before we changed our minds. The only thing left is to say goodbye to Walker, who will be here in the morning—he just doesn’t know why.

After we exhausted that discussion, she held me while I broke down and recounted what happened with Jackson. She assured me that it would all work out, saying there would be many other loves in my lifetime.

Unfortunately, I know better. He ruined me for any others. How do you move on after having Mr. Perfect? God needs to make up his mind on whether I deserve happiness or not because this back-and-forth is killing me.

The things I said at the height of my anger have been on replay, and as badly as I want to call and take it all back, I know that would only result with me in his arms. And seeing him before I go would make this decision impossible. There’s no way I can walk away again, so this will have to be how it ends.

I wish I’d known it was the last time I was going to see him. I would have taken a moment longer to memorize every feature, scent, and feeling, ingraining it all to my memory the same way my love for him is embedded into my soul.

Instead, my last memory is painful, heartbreaking, and filled with guilt. The look in his eyes at my final jab when I told him I didn’t need him anymore will haunt me forever. The worst part is that it was a total lie. I can’t imagine a world where I don’t need him in it. Not to protect me but to make me smile. To make me laugh. To make me melt. No one can check all the boxes Jackson did—hell, he created the damn things.

I hate that I can’t say goodbye, and I’m warring with myself about whether I’m making the right decision, but I think it’s better this way. To leave him with bitterness so he has an easier time moving on. God, just imagining him with someone else wrecks me. How long will it take? Will he be married when I see him next? The thought guts me.

Finally forcing myself from bed, one look in the mirror confirms everything. My eyes are red and swollen from crying for hours last night, and I’m sure there are more tears on the way since Walker is coming over to hear the bad news. I didn’t trust Jackson not to come knocking on my door, so I texted him that I needed more time before we talked, knowing we wouldn’t get that chance.

I try to put myself together and decide to fix some coffee while waiting for Walker to get here. When I enter the kitchen, Mom is there. “Morning. Any change of heart today?”

“No, I think we made the right decision. I know this is going to be hard for you, sweetie. I wish there were another option.”

“Me too. Walker’s on his way over, so I guess I’ll be saying goodbye in a minute.” I feel the tears threatening again.

“Oh, mija, come here.” She wraps me in her arms. “We’re going to be okay. We’ve already had to start over once and we can do it again. We’re tough cookies, you and I. We’ll get through this, Mia.”

There’s a knock at the door, signaling Walker’s arrival.

“I’ll give you some privacy and go pack some of my things. You’ve got this, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I open the front door, and even though I prepped myself and swore I wouldn’t do this, a sob breaks out the minute I see him.

“Holy shit, Mia. What’s wrong? Is your mom okay?” he asks, encircling me in a hug.

“Yeah, she’s fine. I’m sorry. Here, come in so I fill you in on everything. Let me get you some coffee.” I take a minute to collect myself while I pour two mugs.

Sitting at the kitchen table, I explain as much as possible without giving any information that could put him in jeopardy. When I get to the part about going into the witness protection program, he shakes his head in disbelief, refusing to accept it.

“Walker, it’s the only choice, trust me. We’ve been all over the board trying to come up with other options, and there are none. It has to be this way, but like I said, it won’t be forever. Who knows? I might be back in a couple of years.” Here I am highlighting the positives when all I’ve been focused on are the negatives.

“There’s no guarantee on that, and we can’t even talk while you’re gone. It’s crap that they’re forcing you to do this. What does Jackson have to say about it?” I left out the part about Jackson, but it looks like I won’t get away with it.

I sigh heavily before explaining our final moments. “We didn’t exactly end on good terms. I’m not going to tell him what happened after I left.”

“He doesn’t know you’re leaving? That’s not right, Mia.”

“It would only make it harder on both of us. Since I basically broke things off, being gone will just seal the deal. And this way, he’ll have something to be angry about and have an easier time moving on. There’s no sense in both of us being this miserable.”

“You think he won’t be miserable thinking this was all his fault and blame himself? He should know how you feel and the truth about why you’re leaving so he doesn’t beat himself up over it.”

“Gah! I don’t know what the right answer is, okay? But I can’t say goodbye to him. Please, Walker, let it go. This is what I need.” My tears are back in full force.

“God, Mia, I just can’t believe this is happening. I’m gonna miss you like crazy.”

“I’m going to miss you so much.” We stand, throwing our arms around each other and staying like that long enough for me to soak his shirt.

“I love you, Walker. I’ll get ahold of you the second I’m allowed. Don’t change your number. And don’t forget about me.”

“Mia, stop it. You’re like my sister. We’ll be back together in no time. You know I love you, and you better not replace me with some other best friend because no one is as awesome as me.”

I laugh, grateful for the distraction. “Never. I’m definitely going to miss your humor. Something tells me I’ll be needing it.”

I walk him to the door, struggling to keep from breaking down until his car disappears, and then start sobbing for what feels like the millionth time.

Two more hours until my life changes forever.