Chapter 16
Carter
It’s two days before our trip—the secret ‘honeymoon’ I have planned. Just one more quick mission, a couple of days at the gym, then we’re off.
John’s driving the van. I’m riding shotgun.
It’s nice to spend a little time with my brother since I’ve been so busy between taking on my new role for the family and planning a wedding.
We’re off to break into one of the private offices in the government building on West Street, do a little snooping.
Find the ‘package’—a brick of cash that has been swapped for a brick of confiscated cocaine—and head home.
In and out, thirty minutes tops upon arrival.
A piece of cake.
John and I are going over logistics. Having a nice ride, cracking a few jokes about the dumbasses we’re about to pull one over on. The politicians will be caught in a classic ‘who done it?’ with no foot to stand on, seeing as you can’t report the theft of drug money.
John had big plans for the money we’ll be pulling in tonight.
He runs an operation in some of the rougher parts of the city to help teens stay off the streets and get job training or help with college entrances.
Well, he doesn’t run it. He rarely has time to visit—he’s more of a silent benefactor, I guess you could say.
And now, with Brett’s inheritance, John’s plans for those kids have grown.
But while he’s waiting for Brett’s assets to get washed, he needs funding now.
We’re halfway to our destination, smooth sailing, but now, John’s suddenly slamming on the brakes as he yells, “What the hell is that?”
I look into the headlights and see a tiny gray tabby kitten darting across the road.
“What is that? A baby raccoon?” John asks, disgust in his voice. My brother—the animal lover.
“I think it’s a kitten,” I say. “What should we do?” By this point the poor little thing is sitting on the double yellow line, just looking up at us, his big, shiny green eyes reflecting in the headlights.
John scoffs, “We keep going. What do you think we do?”
A voice rises from the back of the van. I almost jump out of my skin in surprise. “Aww! Look at that pretty kitty! Oh, he’s so sweet! John, why are you so coldhearted? You brute. We have to take him home! Just look at the pitiful thing!”
You have to be kidding me. We’ve got ourselves a stowaway.
Sasha.
Well, isn’t this just some shit.
I knew being a Bachman was risky, but I thought I was only risking my safety.
Not my sanity.
To be fair… Sasha’s made tremendous strides.
For her.
She’s given her full effort to our lifestyle. Become as submissive as she can.
But she’s still Sasha.
And I love her, exactly the way she is.
Even when she challenges the wellbeing of my mental health.
My love for her doesn’t make my current situation any easier.
Before I can speak, I see the look on John’s face.
Ice cold.
He turns so slowly over his shoulder, he’s barely moving. When he speaks, his voice is low, lethal. “Sasha… what the hell are you doing in this van?”
I turn around. Her olive skin is pasty white. Her brown eyes huge.
Caught.
Her bottom lip trembles when she speaks.
“I heard you talking about the money for the program. Maya got her internship because of that place. Five kids are waiting on tuition deposits. You both know I spend every Saturday with those girls. I wanted to help. You needed quick and stealthy. I am quick and stealthy.”
The worst part is that she is not wrong about her ability. She is fast, disciplined, observant, and stronger than most men expect. She is also in the back of a van headed toward a felony without permission, training, or a contingency plan.
Caring does not make recklessness safe.
I say, “You do exactly what we tell you from this second forward. No improvising. No proving a point.”
She nods once. “Understood.”
“John, take us home,” I say.
John swears and checks the time. “We turn around and the deposits miss the deadline. Five kids, five colleges, one Ivy League. We do not have an hour.”
Sasha leans forward. “Then let me stay in the van. I won’t move unless you tell me to.”
John looks at me. I hate every option. Finally, he says, “She stays in the van.”
“You hear that?” I ask.
“Yes, sir.” For once, there is no sarcasm in it.
At the building, the plan immediately goes sideways. A security door that was supposed to be open has been chained from the inside, leaving only a narrow service window above a row of dumpsters. John and I can get an arm through. Neither of us can get a shoulder through.
Sasha’s voice comes quietly from behind us. “I can.” I whirl on her, ready to explode, but she points to the window. “You said no improvising. I am asking.”
John checks his watch. “Three minutes.” He looks at me. “Your call.”
Every protective instinct in me screams no. Every practical one knows she can do it. “In and out. You touch nothing except the release bar. The second I say back, you come back.”
Sasha slips through the window like water. Ninety seconds later the door clicks open from inside. She steps back out, breathing hard but grinning. “Useful?” John gives her a murderous look. “Do not make me compliment you while I’m angry.”
We get the package and make it home with minutes to spare. John transfers the tuition money before midnight.
Only then does he turn to Sasha. “You helped. You also stowed away on a criminal operation with no training and no permission. Both things can be true.”
Sasha lifts her chin. “So I was right that women can be useful.” John’s mouth flattens.
Carter answers before his brother can. “Yes. You were right about your capability. You were wrong about believing capability gave you permission to gamble with everybody else’s plan.
” She exhales, accepting the distinction even though I can see how badly she wants to argue with it.
Her grin disappears.
I take her upstairs. I am proud of what she could do and furious about how she chose to prove it. That combination is apparently going to be the story of loving Sasha Bachman for the rest of my life.
I tell her we will talk in the morning. I tell her I love her. She lies silent beneath the covers, staring at the ceiling as if she has finally realized that being useful does not automatically mean being accepted into every part of this world.
When I leave to finish the debrief with John, she is still awake.
When I come home, she is gone.