Chapter Twenty-Two
SEBASTIAN
Tony: Where are you?
Bas: That’s no business of yours.
Tony: Well, just so you know, I will be staying at the condo for a couple of days.
Now I’m cursing myself for not getting my key back from Tony. Not getting the locks changed. I was too angry the night he left to keep a level head.
Bas: What the hell are you doing there?
Tony: Look, I wanted to talk to you, and I thought you’d be here. We are still married, aren’t we?
Bas: Only because you refuse to sign the divorce agreement.
Tony: How can we agree to divorce if we haven’t tried to talk things out?
Bas: We’ve said everything we need to. We both know this is only about money for you.
Tony: I thought we were friends.
So did I. Until I found out he’d been spending more money than he could afford on hiring escorts and that he refused to sign off on a divorce because he refused to get off the gravy train that was our marriage.
I was young and stupid when I decided to marry Tony. I won’t be that stupid again.
I take a moment to study Simon’s sleeping form on the bed, realizing I trust him more than I ever trusted Tony.
Simon seems to be the one who doesn’t entirely trust me in return.
It feels as if every step I take forward results in Simon taking two steps back, and I wish he wouldn’t swipe like a feral cat at the one person who’s actually trying to help him.
A quiet knock on the door and a quiet groan from the bed. Simon has slept the better part of the day and evening. He hardly woke up when I carried him up to the room. Thank goodness for mobile check-in, or I’d have had some explaining to do at the front desk.
I wait while room service wheels in our food.
A hearty salad for me and soup for Simon, whenever he wakes up.
Truthfully, I’ve worried that I should’ve left him in the hospital.
I could have agreed to cover the bill. I was too selfish for that, though.
I wanted to be with him. I wanted an excuse to stay in a hotel room, just the two of us.
I watch him sleep while I eat, convincing myself it isn’t creepy. When he’s awake, he’s like the world’s sexiest porcupine. Adorable but covered in protective barbs.
In his line of work, I suppose he has to be. After the things he let slip about his family, I wonder if he’s extra cautious. And who the hell is Elijah?
I wanted to ask, but I held my tongue. There’s so much I want to know about him, but the situation requires patience.
Tony: You have to talk to me sometime.
The message sours my stomach. Tony has sidestepped every attempt I’ve made to get him to do the right thing. Was he always this way and I didn’t notice, or did I not see it when he changed? It’s a blow either way, the smug way he thinks he’s got me backed into a corner.
Bas: We’ll talk in court. Since you refuse to sign the paperwork.
Tony: Don’t be like this.
I’m not sure what he means. Don’t be harsh? Don’t be cold? I always have been. Don’t insist he give me the divorce I’m due given our agreement?
I glance at the bed again, at Simon’s chest rising and falling beneath the blankets, before I notice the rain pelting the window.
He’s doing better. His fever broke. The storm is still blowing outside, but the worst seems to have passed.
For the last couple of days, Simon has slept, but he’s healing.
I’ve thought long and hard about what he said, about why things between us wouldn’t work out. I’m no longer eighteen and hurrying to access my trust fund. I cannot predict the future. But what I feel when I’m with Simon shows me so clearly what I didn’t have with Tony.
I know I’d like more of the way I feel when Simon and I are together. It’s all I need to know. How can he think I’m savvy enough to build a multimillion-dollar company but not know whether or not I want to be with him?
My phone buzzes again. I’m expecting it to be Tony and I’m ready to put the damn thing on focus mode, but it turns out to be from my business partner.
Lehman: You guys doing okay?
Bas: Fine. The hotel still has power. I’ve got a fully charged laptop and just ordered room service. You?
Lehman: Great. The parents’ house came through with minor damage. Just got done having dinner with everyone.
Bas: Your family is weird.
Lehman: Because we all speak to each other? Because nobody tried to kidnap anyone?
I don’t realize how tightly I’m clenching my fist until my knuckles crack. Lehman seems to think making jokes about this shit keeps me humble. If he hadn’t been friends with the man who raised me for most of my life, I’d have punched him in the face by now.
Lehman: I thought you’d want to know our guy managed to get more info about that thing from the other night.
Bas: You’re being a bit vague.
Lehman: *middle finger emoji*
Of course, I know why. We walked out of that room knowing the man tied to that chair wasn’t going to live. When we paid the retainer, the group we hired clarified that they operated in gray areas, and sometimes things must be handled.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call. I glance one more time at Simon before going to the other bedroom so he can sleep. Outside the window, an alligator plods past a sign that says, NO SWIMMING in large enough letters to see them from the twelfth floor. I envy how unbothered he seems.
“What do you want, Lehman?”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to say hello normally?”
“I’m not a normal person.”
“That’s the fucking truth. I called because I didn’t want a text thread of this conversation.
The bottom line is there’s a trafficking operation that uses a few of the businesses around town.
Our guy shared that some hotels, farms, and construction companies in and around Belle Argo are being used to transport humans.
Primarily, people who won’t be missed if they disappear.
But there’s a new thing. Rich freaks on the black market are placing orders, so to speak. ”
“Orders. For people?”
“Bidding. They’re looking for a certain type of person with certain traits and they’re willing to pay a certain amount.
It’s usually someone somewhere outside of the country, like the island where Cam was found.
Coastal towns like Belle Argo are popular hunting grounds.
It is harder to pin down people involved between the transient hospitality workers, the tourists, and the snowbirds.
The guy we talked to only knew the other person he was doing transport with.
His job was to drive a van and get the people on the plane.
Whoever was coordinating sent encrypted messages. ”
“That sounds like very little actual information.”
Outside, some kind of large bird pecks at the ground, seemingly clueless about the approaching alligator.
“Such a fucking pessimist. It doesn’t tell us who’s pulling the strings, but it gives us some idea of where to look. Liam recommended a local hacker who might be able to find out where people are bidding on the dark web.”
“It’s crumbs, Lehman. We’ve been searching for months and made almost no progress.”
“I think Cam and Lily would disagree.”
I sighed. “Why the hell are they targeting our damn clients?”
“They’re getting picked off from crowded gatherings. It really could be a coincidence.”
“My gut says it’s not.”
“There’s one other angle we should look at.
Something Liam said almost as a throwaway, but I can’t get it out of my head.
He said on television they often show random people getting violently grabbed, but that’s not how it happens.
Most of the time, a person is lured or sold into the pipeline by someone they know.
So we should look harder at our employees, maybe even other clients. ”
“If I find out someone who works for us is doing this shit, I’ll kill them myself.”
Lehman clears his throat. Down by the lake, the crane senses the gator’s approach and gives up its hunt for food, speedwalking in the opposite direction. Again, Lehman clears his throat.
“Spit it out, Lehman.”
“Most of these higher-profile targets were grabbed from parties. Thanks to your boy toy, we know at least one was a party Tony coordinated. I get why you don’t want to talk to him, Bas, but he might know something.”
I’ve been thinking the same thing. I just haven’t been happy about it. Asking Tony for help means him asking for something he wants in return—something I won’t want to give.
“I know.”
“You busy trying to come up with a way to get one over on him before you try?”
If I said no, I’d be lying. Whatever concession Tony asks for, he’ll delight in pulling it out of me. Between my pride and the need for any information he might have, it’s a no-brainer. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“He’ll try to use our need for information as leverage.” Most likely in the form of me handing over a hefty portion of my net worth.
“Maybe we should have the team talk to him.”
The same team that tied our last guy to a chair and tortured him until he gave up information? “That seems like overkill.”
“If he implies he knows something but won’t help unless you sign over half your fucking company to him then I disagree.”
“He might not.” But I know Lehman’s right. Tony’s shown his true colors since catching him with Simon; I can see it coming from a mile away.
Lehman makes a noise that suggests he believes my denial about as much as I do.
“I’ll give it some thought,” I amend.
“Please do.”
The alligator is chasing the bird, gaining speed. Just as he snaps his jaws, the bird takes flight. I’m not sure whether I was rooting for the predator or the prey.
From the other room, I hear the sound of a shower starting.
“I have to go,” I say.
“I’ll let you know if I have more,” Lehman says.
I sigh and return to my dinner, trying to ignore the sound of water hitting tiles, the memory of Simon’s wet body against mine.
Simon, who works those same parties where people have disappeared. Who’s to say he couldn’t fit the description of the next dark web bidder? If I truly want to protect him, I have to swallow my pride.
Do the thing you hate. It’s been my motto for most of my life. Getting the unpleasant shit out of the way is how I’ve built nearly everything in my life worth having. No reason to stop now.
So I text Tony.
Sebastian: Dinner Friday—Mama Elisabetta’s at seven.
Mama’s is one of his favorite places. Intimate, amazing food, Michelin-starred with prices to match. Tony won’t make a scene in a place where the upper crust of Belle Argo eats. He cares too much about what people think.
I send a follow-up.
Sebastian: Now get out of my condo and leave the key this time.
Lehman would have come up with a nicer way to say that. He’s the one who’s always dealt with the clients because he has a charm that I can’t seem to manage. Lehman’s nice. I’m not.
With that out of the way, I head for the bathroom. Knowing that Simon isn’t a hundred percent healed and still needs his rest doesn’t stop me from peeling my clothes off as I go.