20. Jaime
Chapter 20
Jaime
L eo Oliveras sends me a text message around five, rousing me from a nap. Yawning and disoriented, I blink away the gray-blue wash of early afternoon and read his message.
Good job, J.
One week.
I don’t know if that means one week until I get called back to Santa Barbara for good, or one week until the family makes their move on Cal. But if Leo didn’t specify the first time, he’s not going to just because I asked. He doesn’t work like that. So, I ‘like’ his message and toss my phone aside.
Looks like I have one week to figure out a way to get Maeve out of the house without Cal killing me for “losing” her.
Meanwhile, Lewis confirmed receipt of the photos and video minutes after I sent them. But later that night, I get a text on my burner.
How’s your dad?
Which means he wants me to call him when my location is secure. Emailing files from my laptop at Wolf’s is one thing; having a sensitive conversation is another. Wolf is my friend, but he’s an Oliveras. I’ve never searched his place for cameras or bugs because I’ve never had reason to. While I doubt he has any, I can’t be too careful so I slide on my jacket and go out to the car.
Lewis answers on the first ring. “Hey, kid. How’re you holding up?”
“Hangin’ in there.”
“Listen, it’s unbelievable how good this stuff is. As in exactly what we needed. Oliveras was really onto something, having you check that safe.” A raspy laugh crackles across the line. “Bet he never thought he’d be helping us take somebody down with it.”
“Probably not,” I agree.
“All right, we’ll start processing this, make sure it’s all backed up, encrypted. I don’t want any leaks. Meanwhile, you keep your head down. I know you’re ready to get out, but we need just a few more days.”
I swallow my sigh, the weight of his words settling on me with a grim heaviness. I figured this would be the case, but I’d hoped to hear something different. Now that Leo and Cedro have their hands on some of this evidence, they’ll want to move and I’d rather be far away from Cal’s when that happens.
“How many more days? Less than a week?”
“I think so. We’re close, really close. We just need to go over the evidence with a fine-toothed comb and secure the search warrants. Last thing we need is to move prematurely and fuck this up,” he says. “Is Oliveras planning on bringing you back to the compound anytime soon?”
“He gave me a week, too.”
Lewis is a silent a beat. “Okay, well, I’ll see what I can do about moving in earlier. You know what to do if things go south before then. We’ll pull you immediately. Sit tight for now.”
In reality, it would take a little over five hours to drive from Santa Barbara to Oakland, but I pull up to the house in about four. It was hard enough waiting even that long, considering that I was only ten minutes away when Cal’s text came through .
I don’t know why he and Maeve decided to come back early. But Cal is, if nothing else, unpredictable—which is why I came back to the house and checked that safe as soon as I could. I knew that if I blew my chance, I might not get another one for a long time.
The driveway is empty when I arrive, but I’m betting that’s because Cal’s Mercedes is in the garage. Pulling into my usual spot, I grab my stuff and let myself inside, unsure of what I’m going to find. It’s rare that Cal is here without Griff and Mac.
The house is quiet. Cal meets me near the door, looking uncharacteristically worn. He’s high, but the usual bravado and brashness that accompanies that is absent, leaving him sort of pale and haggard.
“Thanks for coming back, man,” he says, lifting his chin. “I know you had to cut your vacation short.”
“I wasn’t up to much,” I say, looking around for signs of Maeve. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Maeve and I had a little argument, and she didn’t wanna stay in Marin, so I brought her back.” He sniffs, shrugging. “Thanksgiving’s over anyway.”
“All right. Well, I’ll be next door if you need me,” I say, nodding toward the French doors.
“Actually, do you mind hanging around a minute? Maeve’s sleeping, but if she wakes up, I don’t want her to be alone.”
I slide into my usual spot at the counter, where I’ve spent countless mornings watching Maeve make breakfast, sipping on the coffee I made her.
“This guy owes us, so Dario asked me to collect. No one expects that shit during the holidays, you know?” he says, sweeping his wallet and keys from the counter. “I’ll be right back.”
I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it doesn’t matter. “Sure.”
“There’s beer in the fridge,” he calls, letting himself out the front door.
I wait until I hear him leave the driveway, consulting my app to ensure he’s moving down the hill, before knocking on the bedroom door. When no one answers, I open it slowly, peeking in.
Maeve looks up from her phone, recoiling when she sees me. Her right eye is bruised a dark purple, swollen enough that her eye is half shut .
The room shrinks, everything blurring around me until all I can see is her beautiful, but damaged face. “What the fuck happened to your face?” I bite out, coming farther into the room. “Cal did this to you ?”
“We had a fight.” She shakes her head, tears filling her eyes. “Because I wouldn’t … have sex with him.” Her words are a whisper by the end, and she looks down.
When Cal said they had a fight, he left out the part about treating the supposed love of his life like a fucking punching bag. Walking over to the bed, I sit beside her and take her hand. I don’t know what to do here, but I don’t want to hurt her more. She’s been through enough. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask quietly.
“What is there to do?” she asks. “I just have to wait for a chance to leave and then take it. I know you said you’d help me, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“There’s no one you can stay with for just a few days?” I ask. “No friends?”
“Have you seen me with any friends?” She wipes her nose with a trembling hand. “I have no one here, Jaime. No one but you.”
“What about your family?”
“I don’t want to drag them into this.”
“Why not?” I push. If her brothers are the kind of men I think they are, one phone call could potentially end all of this.
“Callum’s got connections on the East Coast. He’s already threatened to call in a favor if I involve my family.”
I want to tell her that’s bullshit, that Cal’s empty threats mean nothing, but I’m not the one he assaulted. I remember what my mom was like. I remember the excuses she made, the shame and the way she’d shut down.
A lot of the hold that Callum has on Maeve is mental.
“Listen to me,” I whisper. “Lay low. Give me a few more days and then we’ll go. A week tops, I promise.”
Her face crumples, and she nods, squeezing my hand.
“I’ll get you home,” I say, and I will. Somehow, whether it’s on my own or through official means.
But I can’t act rashly—too many people are depending on me. Is one girl worth three years of an investigation? The answer is yes, obviously. Maeve’s life is worth everything. But taking down the Oliveras and De Leon empires would mean saved lives, too. Ultimately, Maeve will be safer when Cal and his uncle are officially out of the picture.
“He left, I guess?” Maeve asks after a moment, letting her curls swing forward.
I resist the urge to tuck her hair back. I don’t want her to feel like she has to hide from me, not even something like this. But I understand. My mom had her share of black eyes, and she never wanted me to see them, either.
“Yeah. He had to run an errand for Dario.”
“Of course, he did.”
“Did he do anything else?” I ask, scanning the rest of her. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, so I can’t see much.
But then she tugs on her collar, pulling it away to show me the bruising on her neck. A bitter taste fills my mouth at the sight of those purple marks, a venomous mix of rage and guilt because I wasn’t there to protect her. Hadn’t I felt it? The wrongness of letting her go with him, knowing what he could do? It’d seemed almost paranoid at the time, but now I realize how right my instincts were.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking her into my arms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
She wraps her arms around me, her tears dampening my shirt.
I stroke her hair as she cries, the firestorm of my anger shrinking to a small, blue flame in the center of my chest. I don’t know if prison is enough for someone like Callum. I don’t know if I can let him off that easily.
I’m going to call Leo.