Chapter 16
MINKA
An hour after I walked into Jennings—two hours, maybe?
—I climb into Burke’s car and pray no one else knows the shame I carry in my head.
My heart. The very fabric of my psyche. My stomach rumbles, though I don’t feel the hunger I know my body is trying to signal.
Instead, I close the door and set my clutch on the chair beside my thigh.
I fix my seatbelt and swipe my face with trembling hands, and when my phone bleats with an incoming text, I fish it out of the dark purse as my car pulls away from the restaurant.
“I trust your evening went as planned, ma’am.” Burke’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Back to the apartment?”
“To the house, actually. Please.” I unlock my phone and tap on Soph’s name. I’d rather call her than text. “Do you know the address, Mr. Burke? It’s over by—”
He dips his chin. “I know where. Settle in. We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Soph’s end of the line connects, the crunch of whatever her current snack is, playing through the line. “Well… that was something, I guess.”
I drop my head back, thunking it against the seat and staring up at the ceiling. “I forgot you can hear everything. Did you listen to—”
“I caught the bits about Abate not being there. I stayed for a minute or two of you and Archer snapping at each other.”
I sigh.
“I got to Jamaica and turned off comms. Shut down the Checkmate systems so no one else on my team could tune in, either.”
“Soph—”
“Figured, no matter how angry the detective gets, he was there, which means you had your own personal security guard by that point. Do you wanna talk ab—”
“About Abate.” I drape my free hand over my eyes. My head aches, and my eyes burn. I’ve cried too much this week, and consumed not nearly enough water. “What the hell happened? Was it Archer?”
“I mean… I don’t know. I don’t think so.
I don’t have Archer entering Abate’s building, talking to his people, or in any way influencing Abate’s whereabouts.
I’ve checked phone records. Emails. There are no Dear John letters in the mail or smoke signals in the sky.
It’s like Archer went to Jennings on hopes and dreams and the universe just…
” She shrugs. It’s noisy and visible on the backs of my eyelids.
“Complied. I still have Abate at his office, so I guess his meeting ran over.”
“And the server at the restaurant who said Abate was already waiting for me in the dining room?”
She makes a noise in the back of her throat.
“Someone was waiting for you in the dining room. It’s possible Archer paid him to say it was Abate.
Or the server thought it was Abate, since I doubt the kid cross-referenced IDs to ensure the diners he was expecting to arrive were, in fact, the people who arrived. ”
“Is it possible Abate figured us out?” I tilt my head to the side and open my eyes, staring out at the world as it passes us by. “Maybe he got spooked and ran.”
“Anything’s possible, I suppose. But men aware of a target on their back don’t typically sit at the office and continue working for hours after. They empty their bank accounts and ransack their homes for whatever shit they want while they’re on the road.”
“And you just…” I lick my lips, each swell still tender from Archer’s bruising touch.
My stomach flutters, nervous because of the words we spoke, and my core tingles, because we came back together again…
for a few minutes. We met in Jamaica once more, the place where we spoke our promises in the past. “You think it was pure coincidence Poul didn’t turn up tonight?
No text. No email. No communication whatsoever? ”
“We got an email.” She taps on her keyboard in what is otherwise a completely silent space.
“About seven-fifteen, we received word from his office that he was stuck in his meeting and, though he’s incredibly apologetic, he didn’t see a way to escape his current predicament in time for yours.
He’s sorry. He hopes to call you tomorrow to discuss alternate plans, and if you should feel he no longer deserves your business, he’s happy to recommend others in the profession. ”
“We don’t want others,” I sigh. “We wanted him.”
“It is what it is. There are twelve fish in this pond, and we threw a line in, hoping for Abate. We got a nibble, but he didn’t grab on this time.
I’ll keep working at it and secure a new meet.
In the meantime, we carry on as we have been.
Mihalis Salonen might be our next best hit.
School teacher,” she growls. “Middle school, which means his days are filled with the exact types he wishes to buy and exploit. School’s currently out for the summer, which makes things a little more difficult for me, but he enjoys a run around the bay most mornings.
Do you own a pair of sneakers, Chief? It might be a good time to lace up and strike a name off our list.”
“Send me the details.” I press my hand to my belly as the car winds around tight bends and brings us toward the houses overlooking the city. “I’ll take care of it just as soon as you give me the go.”
“Good.” She settles back in a creaky chair, a soft hum playing in the base of her throat. “Is there a reason you’re heading up, Chief? You and Archer—”
“I need to swing by the house. Just for a minute.” I swipe beneath my nose and watch as Burke turns off the main road and pulls us onto Malone property.
I don’t recall so many men watching over us prior to Aubree’s wedding, but as an unidentified vehicle makes its way along the driveway, soldiers bristle, and hands twitch.
At least here, unlike in New York, weapons stay hidden in holsters.
“Send me that dude’s information when you have it. Otherwise, I’m putting my phone away for the night. I’m done discussing literally everything for now.”
“Deal. My girls are in the bath. Jammies come next, then a bedtime story. Poul’s schedule mismanagement is my blessing.”
“Enjoy the time with your family.” I straighten my spine as we come to a stop just feet from the small wrought-iron gates shielding the house’s front entrance.
“Kiss your babies goodnight. Maybe even say something nice to Jay.” I cough out a pathetic laugh.
“If I know you as well as I know me, then that man is probably starved of affection. They like it when we say nice things for the sake of nice things, and not only when we’re having sex. ”
Burke clears his throat and climbs out of the car.
Sophia laughs. “I’ll be sure to say something nice, might even tell him it’s from you. He’ll like that.”
Bravely, Burke walks amongst men who glare at the side of his face and prepare to do whatever it is Malone soldiers do to unwelcome guests. Coming around the car, he opens my door and offers a hand. “Ma’am.”
“Thank you.” Ending our call and locking my phone, I allow him to help me out, then I meet the eyes of men I don’t recall ever seeing before in my life.
But they seem to recognize me, because their twitching softens and their glares turn to neutrality.
“If you wouldn’t mind sticking around for just a little longer, I promise to be fast.”
He releases my hand and dips his chin. “No rush. I’m happy to wait.”
I offer him a small smile and tuck my hair behind my ear, then I stop and face the horde of guards. “Is there a reason this house is being overrun by men wearing black?”
“Chief Mayet.” One of them, the sacrificial spokesperson, broadens his chest. “Mr. Malone’s orders.”
My pulse thrums and skitters in my veins. “Which Mr. Malone?”
“Felix. We have a fleet of cars available to take you wherever you’d like.” His eyes flicker to Burke. “You’re welcome to dismiss this one.”
“I’m satisfied with my current arrangements.
But thank you.” I meet Burke’s gaze and wait for his nod, then I brush my hands over the soft fabric of my dress and step around Mr. Malone’s guards.
Through the gates, along a narrow section of tile, then over the threshold.
Even with the door wide open, chilled air hits my skin and alleviates the itchiness of sweat and humidity from outside.
Archer said he wasn’t coming to the house, and Cato is at the apartment. Felix and Micah and the rest of the New York cohort have left town, which means only two remain.
“Oh! Doctor Mayet?” Mary skids to a stop in the hallway, her usual smart black dress and gleaming white sneakers, a contradiction almost as bright as the wariness in her eyes.
She looks me up and down, her palm pressing to her chest, but as she brings her gaze to mine—no doubt red and puffy—she gulps and lowers her hand.
“Is everything okay, Doctor? Is there anything I can—”
“Is Steve in his room?” I continue forward, nerves slamming through my veins, though I don’t let them show, and passing the sweet and oddly formidable Mary, I head through the kitchen and into the hall.
I don’t call Steve’s name, though I kind of want to. I don’t announce my arrival, though I want that, too.
I would die if I declared I was here and Steve’s only response was an uninterested meh, but my fears are quashed the moment I arrive at his door. My tears, swelling and spilling anew.
He sits up in his bed, his ruddy cheeks lifting with his bright smile, his eyes glittering as he looks me over. A television flickers and drones from across the small room, and a remote sits by his thigh, black against crisp white sheets.
“Hi.” My breaking voice makes me feel foolish. “You look brand new, and it’s only been two days.”
He fists his sheet and drags it up, revealing his thin, pale legs wrapped in cotton shorts. “Climb on in, Sweetpea. Come visit an old man for a little while.”
My breath hitches on a sob, and my heart pounds, aching and wild in my chest. But I stride ahead, unzipping my boots and kicking them off with each step I take.
By the time I reach the bed, I climb up and slip my feet under the sheets.
I fold myself into his curling arm, so when he pulls me in and forces my cheek to his chest, I squeeze my eyes closed and cry.
And cry.
And so ridiculously, humiliatingly, uncharacteristically cry.
“Let it out.” He presses a kiss to my temple and draws me closer. “Purge the poison. Get it all up, then you’ll feel better.”
“I was coming to see how you’re feeling. I wanted to show you I haven’t abandoned you.”
“Now you see I’m well.” He hums in the back of his throat, a sweet melody I’ve never heard before. “And that I haven’t abandoned you either.”