Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA
It’s never too hot for hot chocolate, nor too cold for ice cream.
—Fab and Delish
The fog has rolled in since my plane landed, shrouding the mountainous region with a dangerous curtain to conceal important landmarks and signs.
Almost like the way Fallon did with me.
How could I have been so stupid to believe Fallon wouldn’t fall to the sin of greed when she already fell to lust as if she’d been born nursing at its bosom? I slam my hand against the steering wheel, and the rental car I’m driving jerks in reaction, edging me closer to the dangerous cliff. “Whoa. The idea is to get there and to let her know you know. Not to die in the process.”
Dying can happen back home in Texas with a bottle of whiskey as I systematically erase every part of Fallon Brookes from my life.
I slow and take the turn down the road that leads me to the warehouse Sam traced the calls to while I was in the air. As my rented SUV rattles down the lane, individuals in full tactical gear approach in slow, practiced moves. Even as I coast to a stop, because despite the fact I’m armed and can handle myself, I curse Thorn as I call him on Speaker.
“What?” he snaps.
“Did someone forget to mention the tactical team guarding Devil’s Lair?”
“There are guards?” His voice is shocked.
“Four surrounding me right now,” I confirm.
“Fuck. Hold on.”
My lips curve in amusement as my former boss puts me on hold. “Depending on who he’s calling, I could be sold as a sex slave by the time he comes back.”
“In your wildest dreams, Ethan. You took a wrong turn, you jackass.”
“Not hard to do in this fog.”
He snorts. “Well, it landed you on the backside of one of our training sites. Give them your phone so I can talk to the team leader.”
Feeling like a complete rookie instead of someone who went through Thorn’s special brand of torture, I roll down my window and hold out my cell. A gloved hand snatches my phone away and shortly thereafter a bark of laughter escapes the masked figure. Figuring Thorn’s just given them the stand down procedure and then sold me out because of the damn fog, I know I’m about to take my rightful ribbing.
After my phone is handed back to me, the team lead solemnly repeats, “Sir, the director would like to know if you need backup on your assignment tonight since you’re about a mile away from your turnoff.”
I bare my teeth. “When you call Director Thornton back, you can tell him to suck my dick.”
“No, thank you, sir. I’d really like to pass training.” The agent-in-training’s eyes gleam behind his mask. He points ahead and instructs me, “Go ahead about a quarter of a click. There will be a spot for you to turn around.”
“Thank you.”
Just as I’m about to roll up my window and get back on track, the future of the Agency calls out, “Don’t drive off the mountain on your way out, sir. It’s right in front of you when you hit the road.”
God, is Thorn recruiting them as smartasses these days? My cheeks burn as I find the turnaround, turn the SUV around, and head back to the main road.
Once I get back onto the main road, a text from Thorn appears. I ask it to be read to me.
Thorn:
Maybe this is a sign what you’re about to do is a mistake. Give Sam and Q?za some more time to correlate your findings against their information. You may be wrong.
Ethan:
Unlikely
Thorn:
But possible.
I don’t bother replying. It isn’t his woman who is so clearly implicated. His wife builds secured facilities for a living. Sam goes home to a wife whose been lauded as a national hero. And Leanne has Castor and her husband—whom I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know pretty well over the years. He’s as much of a straight shooter as I am.
And I’m supposed to bring Fallon into this mix? Finally, I harden my heart and tell Thorn exactly what I plan on doing.
Ethan:
No, this ends tonight.
Thorn:
Your call. I think it’s the wrong one, but who am I to say. Oh, wait. I’m just the director of the…
I throw my phone on the seat, ignoring the remainder of Thorn’s latest dig, and I find the correct turnoff. My eyes immediately land on Fallon’s car in the parking lot of Devil’s Lair. Parking next to her, I wait.
And wait.
According to her phone logs, I have a few hours until I need to surprise Fallon with my presence. As I wait, my thoughts turn inward as I try to figure out exactly how I will approach her. Unfortunately, I can’t turn off my memory quite so easily from the last five years of wanting her. From falling in love with her.
I reach for my phone, pull up our text string, and scroll back as far as possible. I wince when I recall the way she reamed my ass out about Jess giving her a side hug at Austyn’s birthday bash that I couldn’t make because I was working on another job Thorn threw my way.
Fuck. As pissed as I am, the witch was right to call my ass out.
Fallon:
Then you should have been here to put your own damn arm around me.
If I had been, would I be in the predicament I’m facing right now? I rub my hand over my heart as the pain radiates from the center of my chest. Fallon’s been woven through the very fiber of my being since she was eighteen—how in the hell am I supposed to survive not having her in it? Easy asshole. Think about the fact she’s selling herself for money and assisting in blackmailing high profile clients , my conscience prods me.
Up until a few days ago, I didn’t know Fallon was working at Devil’s Lair. I had no clue. It wasn’t until I was on the phone and heard the way she described her new lingerie down to the last fucking detail—the same way she had done with me—that my antenna went on full alert.
Then I began to listen to the cadence in her voice.
I didn’t want to do it, but I asked Sam to trace her cell, praying to God I was wrong, but when he confirmed it was smack dab in the middle of the Devil’s Lair call center, I broke that night.
I honest to god broke.
The woman I’ve wanted with a fervor since she was barely legal was working as a phone sex operator. Selling her husky moans, the catch of her breath, the little gasp before she orgasmed.
Something I only just found out on the night she graduated from college.
“Fal, how could you do this to us, witch?” I ask aloud in the darkened vehicle. There’s no answer, and I suspect when I ask her something similar when I see her, she’s not going to be able to reply.
Still, I know this as well as I know my own name, ripping her out of my life is going to be like losing a limb.