25. Garrison
TWENTY-FIVE
GARRISON
O ne of these days, I’m gonna open my eyes and see something other than these shitty farmhouse walls. Blue, so much goddamn faded blue I can hardly stand it. Blue wallpaper, curtains, you name it, it’s fucking blue.
And one of these days, I’m gonna wake up on my goddamn own. Not because some alarm is set to go tail someone, not because I’ve got guns to load or a decoy plate to put on my truck. I’m gonna wake up because my body is ready to get up.
Today ain’t that day.
Valdez knocks gently at the door. I know it’s him because once I startle awake with a sleepy Carsyn on my chest, I snatch my phone from the night table and read the messages.
I’ll be there in ten
Arrived
Open up
Quickly I step into sweats, my dick still aching from having Carsyn in my arms all night. At one point she threw her leg over my hips and nudged my cock with her knee and I thought I was going to come.
I can’t wait until this is over. I can’t wait until I’m me and she’s her and nothing stands between us.
I pull open the back door, letting cold air in along with Valdez. Ushering him into the kitchen, I get coffee started and drag down two mugs as he takes a seat at the table, eyeing the plates from last night. Somehow, without him speaking a word, I know exactly why he’s here.
It’s why I made Carsyn call her brother yesterday.
The FBI is nothing if not predictable.
“They’re tired of waiting. The public wants resolution. We can’t be caught with our dick in our hands for this long,” he says, referring to their inability to locate Forrest. I know exactly where he is, and found him without any surveillance and vans full of men on computers. I thought like him, followed his people, and found him. I stifle my eye roll.
“What am I supposed to do about that?” I ask, feigning ignorance that Valdez buys. I know why he’s here. And I know why they sent him. After putting Neely in a home where I’m almost positive the Bureau knew what was happening to Kinleigh and they did nothing? I’m pretty well versed in the FBI’s morals.
They want to use Carsyn as bait to lure Forrest out of hiding.
“Let me take her into custody officially,” he says, producing a sheet of paper from his pocket. He passes it to me and I unfold it, reading only the first line.
It’s a chain of custody request. He wants me to sign it, and hand Carsyn over.
I never would have done all of this to turn around and hand her over. I saw what they left Neely in. I know what they can do.
“No.” There needs no discussion around this.
Valdez seems like he was somewhat expecting of my response, and sighs. “If you say no, we will come back with the order to have her forcibly removed from one agent’s custody to another.”
I lift my brows but say nothing, keeping my arms tightly folded over my chest.
“Listen—” he starts, his tone gently argumentative.
“I’m not fucking handing her over to a bunch of self-indulgent pricks that care more about seeing one man die than saving the lives of literally hundreds of others! Forrest’s sting could’ve been broken up years ago. So many people could have been saved. But no. The case wasn’t big enough, there weren’t enough charges. We couldn’t bust him then; we were building a RICO case! They should have stuck to the trafficking, they didn’t need his other crimes–the trafficking was enough!” I shout, getting to my feet, anger surging through me. “Meanwhile, women and young girls were fucking sold at a human goddamn flea market.” I bend to get into Valdez’s face, not because he himself is the enemy but because he represents it, and today, that’s enough. “When Forrest is dead or caught, she is free. There isn’t any other way I’m doing this.”
His eyes linger on mine, his mouth hanging open in a loud silence.
“Don’t make this your battle,” he breathes, “don’t make this your fight. Just hand her over, do your job. You’re not a messiah, you’re not a fucking hero. You’re an agent assigned to a case. That’s it.”
I extend my arm to the direction of the back door, where he entered. “Let me know when you have a location for him.”
Valdez gets to his feet but pauses when he makes it to the door, casting me a rueful glance over his shoulder. “When I tell them you wouldn’t sign over custody?—”
“I don’t care. Do what you have to do.”
The truth is, I don’t have to care. Because I know where Forrest is and I also know he’s going to be dead very soon. He’ll be dead before he can find her. Of that, I’m sure.
Valdez closes the door, and I traipse after him, sliding on the chain lock before twisting the deadbolt. A sleepy Carsyn appears at the end of the hall, wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a pair of silk panties.
“They want to use me?”
I shake my head, then reroute, nodding. “They won’t, don’t worry. We’re gonna meet your brother tonight and it will all be over.”
She pads toward me, rocking to her toes to loop her arms around my neck. I find myself smoothing my hands along the undersides of her thighs, carrying her to the kitchen. I set her on the counter, then put a mug in her hands, filling it.
“Can I ask you something?” she ponders quietly, her chestnut hair in messy waves around her face. I nod and she continues. “Did you see the files on all the women? The ones he bought and stuffed into a container?”
My mind reels, going back to that day when I saw a shipping container being wrongly delivered to Forrest’s house. I had never known how he stored them, the women and girls, not until that day.
“No, I’d never seen the files. But the day I got the coordinates, I stopped looking for files. I just wanted them free.”
Carsyn stares into my eyes, her energy calm and soothing. “You saved them. Colton and Kinleigh are alive because of you.” She has to battle knowing I hurt the man she loves most while reconciling the fact that I did it for good. She has to choose to believe me, after everything I’ve done, and she is. She is choosing me, and I almost can’t believe it.
I lick my lips and take her hands into mine, overwhelmed with urgency to finish things with Forrest, with the Bureau.
“Carsyn, you know how I told you to call Colton? How he’s coming out here tonight?” I ask her, searching her eyes for a clue. But she blinks, nodding, hope and happiness lining her eyes. “I know where Forrest is. And I’m gonna take your brother there.”
She slips off the counter and steps back from me, and it’s just a foot, but it feels like miles. I reach for her and thankfully, she lets me take her hand and pull her back to me.
“Listen, okay? I want to give Forrest to your brother, do you understand? No eyes there, no evidence, no one but Colton, his weapons of choice, and Forrest.” Fear lingers in her eyes. “Forrest with his guard down, alone,” I amend, and her shoulders ease down some knowing that it’s not a dual I’m setting up.
It’s a gift. Retribution, revenge, call it what you want.
We all want Forrest dead. What I don’t want is the FBI to mishandle the chain of custody or do something bureaucratic and let him off. It seems unlikely but then again, it’s been too long since I’ve experienced surprise. And may have fallen for Carsyn long before I made her a prisoner, but I also kidnapped her. If I’m to prove to Colton and Kinleigh that I’m worthy of Carsyn… well, this gift could help.
“As much as I hate Forrest, I try to imagine for a sliver of a second how I’d feel if it were you he had his hands on. If it were you that he raped and beat,” I whisper, laying it out for her softly. “I would not be able to function until I ripped him limb by limb, do you get me?”
I kiss the top of her head as she loops her arms around my waist. “He deserves this, and I owe it to him.”
She pulls back. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Garri—” her mouth snaps shut and her face twists into something sad for a fleeting moment before she reroutes. “You were doing a job, and you rebelled at that!”
Her head tips to the side, and I wish I could press my lips to her bare neck, lay her down and fuck her so good that all of this falls away.
But we ain’t there yet.
“Man to man,” I explain, “he deserves to get his hands on Forrest. Seeing him in a jail cell ain’t gonna squelch that fire inside him, Cars. Okay? Hear me when I tell you, Colton wants this. I don’t even know the man but I know that he wants this. And whether you believe it or not, I owe it to him.”
She wipes beneath her eyes then blinks up at me. “Okay, and how do I know Colton won’t get hurt?”
Collecting her in my arms, I take her to the bedroom and set her on the edge of the bed. Ever since Liam, we don’t spend time in the living room. And taking her to her room feels wrong. My room is her room as long as we’re here, which hopefully won’t be too much longer.
After all, this ain’t my house. This is Garrison’s place.
“Forrest and his guys are still in Buffalo Trails?—”
“That sick fuck,” Carsyn gasps, but I continue, because Colton will be here soon and we’ve got a lot to discuss. “I thought he’d be in Mexico or Venezuela by now.”
“I’d like to say I thought so too but it doesn’t surprise me he’s hiding in plain sight. He can’t leave until the score is settled.” I run my hand across her jaw, glad his score is in my hands, not his.
“Where is he?” she asks.
“They meet at this run-down brewery inside an old barn, on the edge of 105,” I tell her, recalling the curve in the highway where the barn is located. “Looks closed from the outside. Inside, it’s still a functioning bar but only serves for degenerate meet ups. One of the many places on the Forrest Conway payroll, no doubt.”
I dig my phone out and pull up the location on the map, the red pin making it easy for her to spot. “Here.”
Carsyn pinches and zooms, checking out the area and all the highways around it for a few minutes before she speaks. “Okay,” she draws out, ready for more. She’s been my captive under the guise of being held by a criminal, and though the veil has been pulled, she’s here, ready to join me—to take down Forrest. She’s a trooper. I knew that the second I read her file and found out she took over for Levi Beckett when he passed. Ran the land and the entire farming operation without anyone’s assistance. Now she’s on the same page as me, ready to go, ready for whatever is next in the face of righteousness and honor.
It's hard not to love that.
I clear my throat and focus on the map, trying to stay in Garrison mode for as long as I can. Garrison is still hardened to bullshit, and as much as his skin is cracking and flaking off, and his persona is fading day by day, still, I have to embrace him for a little while longer. It’s a necessity.
“Forrest’s guys come inside, talk to the bartender, then they clear the space. Once they see it’s not wired for sound, Forrest heads in. His men go out to their vehicle and exchange their big weapons for smaller ones once they know it’s safe. That’s where I come in with paralytic, take out the guards, and guess what? Forrest is all alone.”
“They actually leave him alone in there? What about the bartender? He’s in there too?” Her eyes search mine, hair wild around her face, lips parted. I know that this has every chance to go right, but I also know it could go horribly wrong. And all of it would have been for nothing.
I can’t think that way. Garrison doesn’t think that way.
I nod. “Yeah, they do. They don’t want to carry assault rifles all night so they head out and switch things up, lock the truck, make the call for everyone else to meet up. Meanwhile, Forrest gets his first drink in him inside.”
She nods, processing as she speaks. “And what about the bartender?”
I shrug. “Once we’re inside, I’ll let him out.”
“Won’t he get help for Forrest if he’s paid by him? You know, out of fear?”
None of the following comes from any FBI file but rather it comes from living as Garrison Conway in Buffalo Trails for years. “He is in debt to Forrest, so in some capacity, letting him go will be freeing him of that debt. Killing Forrest will be forever freeing him. And a lot of other people, too.”
She nods, then looks down for a moment, contemplative and quiet. When she finds my eyes again, her expression is curious, fear still tinting her face but this time hope blooms beneath that. I can sense it. “Do you miss him?”
I blink, my brow weighing heavily on my eyes as confusion mars my features. “The… who?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know him yet but…” she pauses, her chestnut eyes sweeping over, sparking something hot in my chest. “Whoever you were before Garrison… Do you miss him?”
My heart stutters behind my ribs. The question hits hard, since I’ve been slipping out of Garrison’s character the more and more I fall for Carsyn. I’ve never missed being me, because the FBI was so much of my life’s purpose, or so I believed. I believed that for many years, when I thought I was a good guy. Sacrificing my life to be someone else for the greater good of my country made sense. And now, I don’t know. What I do know is, without being Garrison Conway, I never would have met Carsyn Beckett.
“I…” I clear my throat, the pressure of the impending actions weighing on every nerve inside me. “Yeah, I do.”
“Before my brother gets here, I have to ask you something.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, and I can’t help follow the movement. Her long fingers are so graceful; I picture her mounting her horse in the fog, talking to the chickens as she rides through her father’s land. I’d sit in my truck with a hot thermos of coffee in awe of this woman with more strength than anyone I’d ever met.
I don’t know what she wants to ask, but I nod my head, willing to tell her anything.
“How long did you have the coordinates for the shipping container before you tipped Kinney off to them?” She nibbles her bottom lip, searching my eyes, but not in a way that tells me she’s looking for a lie but more so, eager to hear my point of view.
“One hour.” I remember stumbling upon Forrest reciting them, so I scribbled them down in the book I was reading, and snuck into Forrest’s office and slipped the book onto the shelf. I told Kinleigh about the book just minutes later. “I wanted to ride out and free them myself but Forrest needed me that day. I couldn’t even contact the FBI, and honestly, at that point, I already knew I was gonna tell Kin. I was worried if Forrest found out about me, he’d kill me, and the coordinates would stay a secret forever. So I told her, and I knew she’d understand. Kinney’s always been so sharp.”
She reaches out, cupping the roughness of my beard as her thumb strokes my bottom lip. “You saved them.”
“Colton saved them. His bravery, Kinleigh’s bravery, they saved them.”
Carsyn smirks. “You look sexy when you’re being humble.”
I can’t get lost in this moment, or in her. Not yet. Not until retribution has been paid, because only then is Carsyn truly safe.
“We need to get ready for Colton.”
She arches a brow.
“Weapons. We need to load weapons. We only have forty minutes and if I know him, he’ll be early. And I’m gonna need you to call him again and remind him to come alone. Okay?”
She nods, and I take a seat next to her on the bed. Using my phone, we call, and I stay silent as Carsyn grows teary hearing her brother’s greeting. My chest tightens at their interaction. Her brother promises her on Roxy’s life that he will come alone, and she promises on Murphy’s life that it’s not a set-up of any kind. He agrees to come now, and when the call is over, I snap the phone in half.
“Now, let’s load guns.”