Dangerous Pursuit (The Pursuit #3)

22 Incentive

INCENTIVE

Jackson

W hen I get to work Monday morning and see an unfamiliar face at Mia’s desk, I come to an abrupt halt.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you at Mia’s desk?”

“Oh, um, I’m Rebecca. The temp agency sent me over. I’m sorry, am I at the wrong desk? I was told I was filling in for Cindy, and they led me here.” She starts to stand up.

“No. Just… stay there for now. Let me figure out what’s going on. I’ll be back.”

I slam my office door and call the agency. “This is Jackson Soloman with Soloman Management. Who ordered the temp you sent over?” I bark into the receiver.

“Mmmm, let’s see… Hazel Soloman called in. She requested a full-time executive assistant for four months. Is there a problem with who we sent over?”

“No. Thank you for the information.” I hang up and immediately call my mom.

“Good morning, Jackson. How is the new assistant working out? I’m sorry, honey. You were right. We should’ve just gone with a temp service to—”

“Mom, what’s going on? Where is Mia?”

“Oh, I figured you knew. I got a call from Sofia yesterday telling me they were leaving town and that Mia wouldn’t be able to work anymore starting Monday. I felt bad since it’s my fault for putting her there in the first place, so I called in a favor to have someone in place before you got there this morning. I am sorry, honey.”

“Dammit. Did she say where they were going or why?” I ask desperately.

“Jackson, what’s wrong? I figured you’d be happy about this.”

“Mom, just tell me everything she said. There’s a lot you don’t know, but I don’t have time to explain right now. Please…”

“She didn’t go into details, but I assumed they had a death in the family with how sad she sounded. I asked if I could help, and she told me that nothing could be done and that they’d be fine.”

I growl into the phone. “That sounds familiar. Okay, I’ve gotta go. Bye, Mom.”

“Wait! Jackson, please tell me what’s going on.”

I inhale deeply, preparing myself for what I’m about to say. “Mia and I… we were… together. I love her, and I fucked up. I need to find her and make things right between us.”

“Jackson, she’s so—”

“Yeah, I know, Mom. She’s young. It doesn’t matter—she’s the one. She makes me happy. She’s perfect for me, and when you meet her, I know you’ll see that, but first, I have to get her back.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t see that coming. I’m sorry, honey, I’m sure it’ll all work out, though. Will you keep me posted?”

“Sure, but I need to go. I have to make some calls. Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, honey. Good luck.”

This is the last straw. I tried to do what Mia asked and give her space before doubling my efforts, but I won’t let her throw away her job—her life—because of me. She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts other than to send that single message asking for time. Well, time’s up.

I dial her number expecting voicemail, which I’ve memorized by now, but in its place is the disconnected service message. What the actual fuck? She can’t be serious.

Grabbing my keys, I storm out of the office and fall short when I remember the new assistant. I walk up to the desk to apologize for my behavior.

“Sorry for the rude introduction earlier, Rebecca. I’m Jackson.” I shake her hand. “Everything you need to know is somewhere on the desk or in one of the drawers. If you could just find the folder with instructions and do your best today, we’ll work through the rest tomorrow if that’s okay.”

“Thank you, Jackson. I’ll be good here. Go do what you need.”

“Thanks.”

I walk away, already sick of this bullshit and intent on getting my girl back. I strategize on the drive, trying to decide where to start and how to get through to her. I’ve been beating myself up over not telling her the minute she confessed what was going on. My instinct says she would have reacted a lot differently, and I know I’m a coward for not telling her. This is my punishment, I suppose, but enough is enough. You don’t walk away from a connection like ours; it’s that simple.

There’s an ache in my gut pulling up to Mia’s. Something’s off, but I can’t place it. After two attempts at knocking, I determine no one’s home, or she’s painstakingly trying to avoid me. A sense of foreboding hits me, urging me to peer through the front window, immediately discovering what’s off—the house is empty. Standing in shock for a minute, unable to comprehend what I’m seeing, it hits me where to go for answers.

The agents left a card and said to call if I thought of anything helpful before following Mia out the other night. The last thing I’d do is help the assholes who ruined my life, but maybe they can shed some light on what the fuck’s going on and where my woman is. I pull the card from my wallet when I get back in the car and dial the number.

“Good morning, Jackson. How can I help you today?” The pretentious fucker. He knows exactly why I’m calling.

“Cut the bullshit. Where is she?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you lose your girlfriend?”

“Listen, motherfucker, I’m two seconds from showing up there to get answers any way necessary, so start talking.”

“Threatening an FBI agent is a criminal offense. However, I’d be happy to have a civil conversation if you’d like to come in. Who knows? Maybe we can help each other out. Say around one?” I’m not sure what this guy’s angle is, nor am I waiting that long to find out.

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” I hang up, seething.

Fuck, this is all my fault. Can she forgive me? Will I be able to forgive myself? That’s a hell no. But I’ll spend forever making it right and do whatever it takes to win her back.

Exactly twenty minutes later, I’m at the reception desk in the FBI field office. “Jackson Soloman to see Agent Bale.”

“Great, follow me, Mr. Soloman.”

I’m taken to an interrogation room like the ones you see on TV, boasting a lone metal table with a chair on each side and a darkened window to the observation room. Nothing else is inside the baren space other than a camera in each corner of the ceiling. Why am I in a fucking interrogation room in the first place, and what the hell is taking so long?

Fifteen minutes later, the door opens. “Jackson, good to see you again,” Agent Bale says, strutting in wearing a boring suit similar to the last one.

“Just tell me where Mia is so we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

“Well, now, I’m not at liberty to disclose classified information. Mia’s under our protection now, and we take that very seriously.” He sits in the chair across from me and folds his hands on the table as if this is just another ordinary day.

“What do you mean, under your protection? Why has her house been emptied? Are you hiding her until you track these guys down? Is she pressing charges against them?” I fire off some of the questions flooding my mind.

“One thing at a time, okay? First, you must not know who we’re dealing with if you think it’s as easy as pressing charges, so let me educate you. Frank and Jay are only the lackeys for the man pulling the strings. We bring those guys in and there will be two more to replace them, and I guarantee their replacements won’t have orders to collect money. Are you following so far?” He’s a smug fucker.

“Just get to the point. I’m not an idiot. I know who’s involved. All I want to know is where my girlfriend is and how you plan to keep her safe.”

“Hmm, it didn’t sound like she was still your girlfriend by the time we left the other night.” The bastard smirks at me. He’s trying to goad me.

“Good to know you’re an expert at relationships. Now quit fucking around and tell me what I came here for because I’m losing patience.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands, but since I have a soft spot for love, I’ll let it slide.”

The fuck he knows anything about love. I decide I’m done talking, filling the room with silence and forcing him to continue.

“The point is, we have a bigger problem than Mia’s, and until we have that handled, she has voluntarily entered our witness protection program until the threat against her has been detained.”

Voluntarily my ass. “What the fuck does that mean? Did you give her a choice? She wouldn’t have left her mom.”

“Her mom entered the program with her. She did have a choice, but unfortunately, would’ve been facing charges related to illegal gambling if she decided to deal with the situation herself.” He has the audacity to shrug like it’s no big deal.

“You son of a bitch!” I slam my fist on the table. “That’s not a choice. You fucking blackmailed her, asshole.”

He holds his hands up, palms facing me. “Now, let’s just calm down. I’d hate to arrest you for disorderly conduct.”

Taking a deep breath and sitting back again, I try to calm myself, knowing I need to keep this guy talking so I can figure out how to fix this fucked-up situation.

“How long are you keeping her for?”

“As long as it takes. These things can go years before a trial, and that itself could take months longer.”

“Did you allow her to tell anyone?” I’ve got to be missing some piece of the puzzle.

“Mia was allowed to say goodbye to whoever she wanted, along with a vague explanation. In fact, a boy her age stopped by this morning.”

Fuck this guy. I’m sure he knows everyone who’s been in and out of her place for weeks. I’m betting her phone was tapped, her every movement tracked. And I’m positive it’s no coincidence that they pounced after her eighteenth birthday so they could talk to her without an adult present and take advantage of a vulnerable young woman who would play right into their hands. And because I fucked up, I wasn’t there to help.

She said goodbye to Walker but didn’t feel the need to tell me. That’s how pissed she is. It’s not rocket science knowing this is my fault. Had I not had security digging, we would have paid the debt yesterday as planned, with the FBI having no idea she even existed. Now she’s in so deep, there might not be anything I can do to pull her out. Fuck!

“Are there any other options? There must be another solution without endangering or compromising her whole life.” This can’t be the end.

“Now you’re asking the right questions. It just so happens that there’s an angle we were working, but we kept hitting dead ends. What do you know about her dad, Roland Marcos?”

What the hell?

“I’m betting less than you do, considering I didn’t even know his name until you said it the other night. He left them a few years ago to feed his gambling addiction. Like you said yesterday, he ran off, and Mia got caught in the crosshairs.”

“Where do you think he got that loan? Those usually come from the top, which means he has a direct connection. I reckon his testimony would be better than Mia’s. I would also think a father would take his daughter’s place if he knew she was in a bad situation. We wouldn’t need Mia’s testimony if we had his.”

“So why don’t you focus on finding him?”

“We did, but we don’t have unlimited resources or time, and with Mia practically served up on a platter, we didn’t need to anymore. However, if someone were to bring us a better option, we’d have no reason to turn that down, now, would we?” The asshole knows exactly what he’s doing by drawing attention to my fuckup. This was his plan all along.

“Is this what it sounds like? If I find her dad, you’ll trade him for Mia?”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.” The desire to break this guy’s nose is overwhelming, but I keep myself in check for Mia’s sake.

“I wouldn’t know where to start. If you haven’t found him with your limited resources , what makes you think I stand a chance?”

“Your incentive.” The fucker’s finally right about something.

“So, let’s pretend I succeed and show up on your doorstep with a present. How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain and release Mia?”

“You don’t, but I’ll give you my word that if you deliver, I’ll present you with a gift in return. Shake on it?” He holds his hand out, but I remain still, causing him to drop it while raising his brows in question.

“What about those bogus gambling charges? If I agree to be your pawn and succeed at bringing him in, I want those off the table.” This time, my hand is out first.

We have a deal.