Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Gage
T owering redwoods loomed on either side of the road, their massive trunks disappearing into the misty darkness above. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine needles, so much fresher than the acrid smog of San Diego I'd left behind.
My knuckles were white on the steering wheel as I rounded the final bend, following a tiny dirt road that veered up a steep hill, tucked away out of sight. The safe-house came into view—a sprawling lake cabin nestled against the mountainside, its windows dark and shuttered. No lights, no signs of movement. Good. Sarah had followed protocol to the letter.
I killed the engine and sat for a moment, listening to the tick of cooling metal and the whisper of wind through the trees. My heart hammered against my ribs as the reality of the situation settled over me. Layla's mother was here, just yards away. Her goddamned mother. The woman I'd sworn to protect, even after I betrayed her daughter in the worst possible way.
She should hate me as much as I hated me. As much as Layla hated me. I deserved every ounce of it.
With a deep breath, I stepped out of the truck. The cool mountain air raised goosebumps on my arms as I made my way to the cabin's front porch. Each step felt leaden, weighed down by guilt and grief. Grief for what could have been if I’d just figured my shit out from the get-go.
I rapped softly on the heavy wooden door—three quick taps, pause, two more. Our prearranged signal. For a long moment, silence reigned. Then came the sound of multiple locks disengaging. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Sarah's wary face. Her blue eyes scanned me quickly before darting to the darkened forest behind me.
"All clear?" she murmured, her hand resting on the butt of her holstered pistol.
I nodded, stepping in as she moved aside. "No tails. We're good."
The cabin's interior was dim, lit only by a single lamp in the corner. The air smelled of pine and wood smoke from the dying embers in the old stone fireplace. Sarah locked the door behind me, engaging a series of heavy-duty deadbolts.
Sarah and I went way back. All the way back to the academy. We used to fuck on and off for a few years but it was never serious. She hooked up with Charlie for a while after I left for the new office in New Mexico, but we stayed cordial. She was kind of a bitch, but I knew she was loyal.
"How is she?" I asked quietly, shrugging off my jacket.
Sarah's lips tightened. "Shaken. Confused. But holding it together, all things considered."
I nodded, guilt twisting in my gut. "Did you tell her...?"
"Only what she needed to know," Sarah replied. "That she was in danger and we're here to protect her. I didn't mention your little girlfriend."
I gave her a dry look, but relief and disappointment warred inside me. Part of me had hoped Sarah would have explained everything, sparing me the task. But I knew this was my burden to bear.
"She's in the bedroom down the hall," Sarah continued, jerking her chin towards a closed door. "I gave her a mild sedative to help her sleep, but she should be awake by now."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the shit show ahead of me. With a nod to Sarah, I made my way down the dimly lit hallway. The floorboards creaked softly beneath my feet, each step feeling like a countdown.
Pausing outside the bedroom door, I raised my hand to knock, then hesitated. What right did I have to be here? To involve myself in Layla's life again, even just through her mother? The weight of my betrayal pressed down on me, threatening to crush what little resolve I had left.
But it was too late for doubts now. Carlos was coming, and Claudia needed to be protected. With a sharp exhale, I wrapped gently on the door.
"Come in," a soft voice called from within.
I turned the handle slowly, pushing the door open. The bedroom was bathed in the warm glow of a bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the rustic wooden furniture. And there, perched on the edge of the bed, was Claudia.
The resemblance to Layla was striking— the same high cheekbones, the same full lips. But where Layla's eyes held a hardness born of years of violence and blood, Claudia's were soft with confusion and innocent fear.
"Mrs. Rosu," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "I'm Agent Gage Warren.”
Claudia's eyes widened slightly as she took in my appearance. I knew I looked rough—days of stubble darkening my jaw, clothes rumpled from the long drive, and my hair grown out past my shoulders, in need of a wash. Not exactly the picture of a professional federal agent.
"Claudia," she said, her voice soft and hesitant. "Agent Connor explained that I'm in some kind of danger, but she was rather vague on the details." Her brow furrowed. "I don't understand. Why would anyone want to harm me?"
I moved further into the room, settling into a worn armchair across from her. The leather creaked beneath my weight, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
"It's... complicated," I began, choosing my words carefully. "There are some very dangerous people who believe they might be able to use you as leverage."
Claudia's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing her delicate features. "Leverage for what? I'm just a teacher. I don't have any connections to?—"
I cut her off gently, knowing I had to rip off the bandaid. "It has to do with your daughter. The one who went missing twenty years ago."
The color drained from Claudia's face. She stood abruptly, swaying slightly as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. "What are you talking about?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Layla has been dead for years."
I rose slowly, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Mrs. Rosu—Claudia—I know this is difficult to hear, but your daughter is very much alive."
"You're lying. How dare you come here and say such things? My little girl is gone. She's been gone for twenty years!"
Her eyes blazed with a mixture of grief and fury, so reminiscent of Layla that it made my chest ache. I could see her hands shaking, balled into fists at her sides.
"I know it sounds impossible," I said softly, taking a cautious step towards her. "But I swear to you, I'm telling the truth. Layla is alive. She's grown now, a woman. A powerful fucking woman.”
Claudia's legs gave out and she sank back onto the bed, her face ashen. "This can't be real," she whispered, more to herself than to me. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long, but it's impossible."
I crouched down in front of her, my heart aching at the raw pain etched across her features. Up close, I could see the faint lines around her eyes, the silver strands threaded through her honey-colored hair. Twenty years of grief had aged her, but couldn't dim the echo of Layla I saw in her face.
"I know it's hard to believe," I said gently. "But I've met your daughter. I've worked with her. Layla is alive."
Claudia's eyes snapped to mine, a desperate hope warring with disbelief. “What—what’s she like?”
I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "She's beautiful, Claudia. Strong. Fierce. She's survived things that would break most people."
A choked sob escaped Claudia's lips, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks as two decades of pent-up grief came pouring out. I ached to comfort her, but held myself back, unsure if my touch would be welcome.
"Why?" she finally managed, her voice raw. "Why didn't she come home? All these years, I thought...”
I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. The weight of two decades of secrets and pain hung heavy in the air between us."The full story of what happened to her is not mine to tell. She'll have to share that with you herself when she's ready."
Claudia's eyes widened. "She's coming here? I'll get to see her?"
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the gravity of the situation. "Yes, she's on her way. Should be here within the next day or two."
Claudia's hand flew to her heart, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. I could see her trembling, overwhelmed by the prospect of reuniting with the daughter she'd thought lost forever.
"I can tell you this much," I continued softly. "Layla is an incredibly strong woman. She's had to be, to survive everything she's been through. She's—well, she works for some very powerful and dangerous people."
"What do you mean, dangerous people?"
I sighed, running a hand through my disheveled hair. "There's no easy way to say this. Layla is involved with a criminal organization. A cartel, to be specific."
Claudia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
I nodded grimly. "Layla didn't have many choices after what happened to her. The cartel gave her power, protection. A twisted sort of family."
Claudia's eyes flashed with anger. "Family? How dare they claim that title when they've kept her from her real family for twenty years!"
I held up my hands placatingly. "I'm not defending them. Believe me, I know how fucked up the whole situation is. But Layla is who she is now because of everything she's been through. Including her time with the cartel."
Claudia stood abruptly, pacing the small room. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as if trying to physically hold herself together. "I don't understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If she's alive, if she's been working for these people all this time, why didn't she ever try to contact me?"
The pain in her voice was like a knife to my gut. I stood slowly, choosing my words with care. "That, I’m afraid, is up to Layla to explain, because trust me, I’ve tried to get her to tell me for a long time.”
Claudia turned to face me, her eyes blazing with a mixture of grief and anger. "And who exactly are you in all this? How do you know my daughter? You’re a federal agent, and from the sound of it, she’s a criminal."
I swallowed hard, guilt twisting in my gut. This was the part I'd been dreading. "I worked undercover in the cartel for several years. That's how I met Layla."
Claudia's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Undercover? So you're what, FBI? CIA?"
I nodded, not bothering to specify which agency. It didn't matter now anyway. "I was sent in to gather intelligence, to try and bring down the cartel from the inside. But things got complicated."
"Complicated how?" Claudia pressed, her voice sharp.
I ran a hand through my hair, struggling to find the right words. "We became close. Very close. I cared about her more than I should have, given my position."
Understanding dawned in Claudia's eyes, followed quickly by disgust. "You slept with her? My daughter?"
"It was more than that," I said quietly, knowing how pathetic it sounded. "I loved her. I still do. But I betrayed her trust. She found out I was a narc, and should have killed me right then and there, but she let me go. Gave me a chance to run. I’d like to think it’s because she still feels something for me too, but I just don’t know.”
She nodded, as if this was the least impossible sounding information she’d received today. "You said Layla is coming here?"
"Within the next day or two. She doesn't know you're here yet. I wanted to prepare you before we give her the okay."
Claudia was silent for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with unshed tears. "Will she want to see me? After all this time?"
The raw vulnerability in her tone made my chest ache. I turned back, meeting her gaze. "Claudia, Layla has never stopped loving you. Not for one second. But like I said, it’s her choice to make and her story to tell. I’m just here to keep you alive.”
I left Claudia to process the bombshell I'd just dropped, gently closing the bedroom door behind me. My head was spinning, guilt and relief warring inside me. At least the hardest part was over. Now I just had to keep Claudia safe until Layla arrived.
I made my way back to the main living area, where Sarah stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her form silhouetted against the inky darkness beyond. The cabin's rustic interior felt cavernous in the dim light, shadows dancing across rough-hewn beams and river rock walls.
"How'd it go?" Sarah asked without turning, her voice carrying a sharp edge.
I sighed. "About as well as you'd expect. She's in shock, but holding it together."
Sarah snorted, finally facing me. Her gold gleamed in the low lamplight, her blue eyes hard as ice. "I still think this is a mistake. Bringing her here, involving her in all this mess."
"We didn't have a choice," I clipped. "Carlos would have found her eventually. At least this way we have a chance to protect her."
"Right," Sarah drawled, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "Because your precious girlfriend is so good at protecting people. Just ask Charlie how that worked out for him."
The mention of Charlie felt like a punch to the gut. I turned away from Sarah, unable to bear the accusation in her eyes. My gaze fell on the dying embers in the fireplace.
Then, Leon’s flashed through my mind, his easy smile, the mischievous glint in his eyes. We'd been through so much together, from grueling training at Quantico to countless undercover ops. He'd been more than just a partner; he'd been a brother.
And now he was gone. Killed by Sarge's hand while trying to protect Layla.
The irony of it all wasn't lost on me. I grieved a man who tried to kill the very woman I loved, the woman who would later take Charlie's life. Charlie with his infectious laughter, dirty jokes, and genius-level hacking skills. He'd never stood a chance against Layla's ruthless efficiency.
Grief welled up inside me, threatening to choke the air from my fucking lungs. I missed them both so fucking much it physically hurt. Yet even as I mourned my friends, I couldn't shake the image of Layla's face from my mind. The way her eyes lit up when she laughed, her moans when I fucked her nice and slow. Our long conversations deep into the night. The betrayal that drained the life from her face that day on the docks.
I loved her. God fucking help me, I still loved her with every fiber of my fucking being. Even after everything that had happened, every lie I'd told and every betrayal I'd committed, my heart still belonged to her.
Sarah's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Earth to Gage. You still with me?"
I blinked, forcing myself back to the present. Sarah was watching me with a mixture of concern and annoyance, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Yeah," I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face. "Just... remembering."
Sarah's expression softened slightly. "Charlie?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Sarah sighed, some of the anger draining from her posture. "I miss him too," she said quietly. "But we can't change what happened. All we can do now is try to keep Claudia safe and hope Layla doesn't fuck this up. Maybe we can spare one innocent at least."
I bristled at her words, even as part of me acknowledged the truth in them. "Layla will do what needs to be done. She always does."
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Even if that means putting a bullet in your head?"
The question hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. I turned away, unable to meet her gaze. "If that's what it takes. I've made my peace with it."
Sarah snorted. "Bullshit. You're still hoping for some grand redemption arc. Wake up, Gage. This isn't a movie. There are no happy endings here."