Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I want a lawyer!” Kurt Wellington slammed his cuffed hands on the small table in front of him.
Jezebel burst into laughter. The hard, rolling kind that started in the pit of your stomach and just exploded from your mouth. The kind that just made a woman feel fabulous.
Her laughter also made Kurt pound his hands all the harder. “I. Want. A. Lawyer.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” She pounded back. Then shook her head. “Who do you think I am? Some beat cop? Typhon, you are talking to the CIA right now. If I want, I can have you tossed into a deep, dark hole, and you will never be seen again.”
He stopped pounding. He’d stopped when she said Typhon. Ah, the magic word.
“Um, do I have your attention now?” Jezebel reclined in her chair.
Ryan Quinn was in the room with her because, injured or not, she knew the man had her back.
Ryan had come in with his friend, FBI Agent Grayson Stone.
Not just an FBI agent, though, because Grayson was practically running the Bureau.
Jezebel hoped that she and Grayson didn’t enter a pissing match on this case.
Typhon belonged to the CIA. The Feds needed to settle down.
Though she had appreciated their assistance out in the desert.
“I want a deal!” Kurt thundered. But that thundering voice held the faintest hint of desperation.
More desperation would be coming soon, Jezebel was certain of that fact. “Do I look like I’m offering a deal?” Her head turned toward Ryan. She found him glaring at the prisoner. She cleared her throat.
Ryan’s gaze briefly darted to her, then back to his prey.
The rage on his face was concerning, and she understood his fury.
Truly, she did. Kurt had taken Ryan’s brother.
Had tried to kill Nash. Ryan would never forgive that particular sin.
When it came to family, Ryan had a zero-tolerance policy.
Zero tolerance as in, you messed with his family, and he’d destroy you.
“No deal,” Ryan rasped. His hands remained clenched at his sides.
Grayson edged a little closer to Ryan. Probably because he was afraid the other man might attack the prisoner at any moment. The Feds tended to frown over things like that. Grayson even curled a hand around Ryan’s shoulder, as if he thought he might have to physically hold Ryan back.
Unnecessary, of course. She trusted Ryan.
And she currently had a deal working with him. Ryan had saved her ass—though, really, she’d had things under control. She’d simply been waiting for the right moment. Jezebel could have disarmed Dom in her sleep. Still, Ryan had been there when it mattered, so she’d make sure he got what he wanted.
Nash walks away.
“You don’t understand the connections I have!” Kurt cried.
Her head turned back toward him. “Of course, I do. You were shouting about them out in the desert. I believe that Nash warned you, sound travels.”
“Especially when you’re using high-tech devices to pick up that sound,” Grayson added.
She smiled at Kurt. “We had a tail on Delaney and Nash from the moment they were driven from the parking garage.” The elevator incident had not been part of the plan.
Dom had arranged for that unfortunate situation.
She hadn’t realized that he’d been able to get total control over the elevator banks.
A serious security flaw that Logan Sterling would be correcting.
Logan Sterling. Such a very tricky individual. He’d wanted Kurt Wellington removed from the Vegas scene. And…wish granted. The storage facility that he’d turned over to the CIA had been full of all sorts of useful evidence that she planned to use against Kurt. More nails in his coffin.
But Logan bothered her. The inside intel he’d gotten, the things Nash had reported that Logan knew about were…
concerning. She would be watching Logan Sterling very, very closely in the future.
Despite the cooperation that he’d given to her and to the CIA, she did not trust the man.
A man with too much knowledge should never be completely trusted.
Perhaps she’d send an agent in to get close to him.
To find out where Logan’s allegiances truly belonged.
But that was a job for the future. For the present, she was taking down Typhon. Eliminating the last of his empire. This particular goal had been on her to-do list for quite some time. Sort of a life goal.
Goal achieved.
But that success had almost come at too high of a price. If Nash had been killed, she never would have forgiven herself. She liked the man, admired him, and, hell, he and Ryan were as close to family as she had.
The elevator incident should never have occurred. When the monitoring screen had gone black and Delaney had screamed, real fear had flooded through Jezebel’s veins. That fear and distraction had allowed Dom to get too close with his weapon.
Dom had overridden the safety protocols and sent the elevator surging down four floors at rapid speed. It’s a good thing that Nash and Delaney weren’t higher up. If they had been…
Well, no sense lingering on that particular thought.
Nash and Delaney had survived the elevator drop.
They’d been loaded into waiting vehicles.
Whisked from the scene. But, luckily, Grayson had caught a visual of their fleeing prey.
He and Ryan had tailed their targets. They’d been joined by the other agents Jezebel had texted and ordered into action.
They’d followed the perps out to the desert. Set up a full operation around that little shack, and then they’d just waited for Kurt Wellington to appear. They’d been recording, watching every moment. Hearing every detail.
Most civilians didn’t understand just what sort of equipment the CIA used in their everyday operations.
Then again, most civilians would have no clue that their friends and neighbors were secret agents.
Spy games meant the best tech, the kind that would put those seen in the movies to shame.
Spy games also meant constant lies and deceit to the people you loved the most. Such was life.
“You killed Carmello Ricci,” she charged. Time to cut to the chase. “You were his flunky. You worked for him ever since you were a dumb college kid who found himself in Milan over the summer. A kid who made your way into Carmello’s world.”
“I can tell you everything about his operation. Let’s make a deal.”
“It’s your operation now, though, isn’t it, Typhon?” Jezebel raised her eyebrows. “You killed Carmello. Took over. You’ve probably killed dozens of people over the years.”
A faint smile came and went on his lips.
Sick bastard.
“Me?” A shake of Kurt’s head. “You have the wrong man. I just wanted to get back my lost love. Nash kidnapped her, and I was trying to rescue Delaney from his clutches.”
“Really? We’re going with that story?” Why?
To bore her? “Delaney has already given a sworn statement about you. She told us all how you shot a man in front of her before your wedding, how you tied her up and locked her in a closet when she wanted to get away from you, how you stabbed her when she balked at walking down the wedding aisle with you.” A shake of her head.
“She also told us that she willingly left the church with Nash because she was so desperate to get away from you.”
His chin lifted. “Delaney is confused. Traumatized.”
“Yeah, because of you, asshole,” Ryan snapped. “You traumatized her.”
Jezebel leaned forward. Her eyes did not leave her prey.
“I think Delaney is quite the strong individual. She put her life on the line when she agreed to act as bait in order to nail your sorry carcass to the wall.” A smug smile.
“And she did a fabulous job, don’t you think?
She got you to confess your crimes. She got you to be directly linked to the abduction and attempted murder of both herself and of Nash Quinn.
Plus, well, you’re such an idiot that you took us straight to your dumping grounds. ”
One blink from him. Two.
She could smell the blood in the water. This jerk was going down.
“You wanted Nash to dig his own grave. Stupid move, by the way, giving a man like Nash a shovel.” Mocking laughter.
“What did your goons expect him to do with it? Did they truly think he would just meekly follow their orders?” A roll of her eyes.
“I suppose, though, they were used to dealing with victims who were terrified and beaten down. Men and women who did start shoveling.” This part made her chest ache.
“We’ve already uncovered seven bodies.” And it had only been twelve hours since the dramatic scene at the shack in the desert.
“My investigators tell me that there are more bodies out there.” Plenty more.
She swallowed. “I’m betting you were sloppy with your victims. All sorts of DNA and evidence will probably be uncovered in those graves.
I’ll tie you to so many crimes that you will never see the light of day. ”
“I want to see Delaney!”
“Not happening. Not ever again. But she is seeing you.” Jezebel waved toward the one-way mirror on the right.
“She’s watching you right now. Delaney, and her husband, Nash.
They both wanted to see the look on your face when you realized that you will never see freedom again.
No deals. No escape. Just the end for you.
” An end she’d worked a long time to achieve.
Typhon.
Yes, she knew that Typhon had originally been Carmello Ricci. She’d approached Nash in the very beginning after Carmello had visited the young medical student. Curiosity had compelled her to interview Nash, but once she’d met him and learned his story, then Nash had become a weapon she could use.
He’d wanted to bring down Carmello. To make the man pay for murdering Nash’s biological mother. A mother he’d never had the chance to meet. He’d learned her identity and then she’d been killed.
Nash had wanted to prevent more deaths. He’d wanted to protect his family. He’d wanted to protect Delaney. In order to do that, he’d become someone completely different.
Nash walks away.
Her gaze darted to Ryan once more. She knew what he’d meant by those words. Ryan wanted his brother to get his old life back. And it was never too late for a second chance, she fully believed that. Nash could finish medical school. He could start saving lives.
Start living his life.
“The marriage wasn’t real,” Kurt snapped.
She pursed her lips even as Ryan snorted. “That’s the part you want to latch onto right now?”
“It wasn’t real. She’s not going off into the sunset with that jackass. It doesn’t end that way.”
Ryan shrugged off Grayson’s hold. “I’m not going to attack him,” Ryan muttered.
“Maybe.” He sauntered closer to Kurt. Then he smiled.
“It was real. She’s the only thing my brother ever wanted.
You think I wouldn’t do everything I could to make sure he got a bit of happiness?
It. Was. Real. As real as the handcuffs on your wrists.
As real as the fact that we have you dead to rights. ”
There was no more swagger from Kurt. He seemed to fold in on himself as Ryan loomed over him.
“Thanks for helping us root out our mole,” Jezebel told Kurt. “I’d known a traitor was with us for months. So nice to have that problem solved.”
“The FBI thanks you, too,” Grayson announced, the first time he’d spoken since entering the room. “We were able to track down the rogue agents who fed you intel. I always love cleaning house.”
Kurt’s gaze jumped from Grayson to Ryan to Jezebel. “I—I have intel you can use…I want a deal. I want a deal!”
“Oh, we will be taking your intel. We will take everything from you. But there is no deal. There is only your cooperation. And you want to cooperate with the CIA, don’t you?” Jezebel asked him sweetly. “Because the alternative to that…” A delicate pause. “The alternative will truly be hell.”
Sweat tricked down Kurt’s temple. His head turned, and he stared at the one-way mirror to the right.
Kurt stared at her. Or, he seemed to stare at her, but Delaney knew he couldn’t really see through the glass. He was cuffed. As Ryan had just said, the CIA had him dead to rights. Kurt would never be a free man again.
And… “Our marriage is real?”
She turned away from Kurt. He didn’t matter any longer. He wouldn’t scare her. He wouldn’t threaten her. He would not hurt her.
Her gaze fell on Nash. A Nash who was not looking through the glass. Instead, his eyes—those beautiful, incredible eyes—were on her.
“Yeah. Ahem. About that…” Nash tugged at his collar. “I tried to tell you. At least twice. Ryan did it. I had no knowledge beforehand. We were supposed to get a substitute officiant, and the paperwork was supposed to be BS but…” Nash stopped.
“But it wasn’t?”
“It wasn’t.” His shoulders fell. “Baby, I am so sorry.”
She threw her arms around him, being very, very careful of his injured shoulder. A bullet had grazed him there, and Nash liked to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but an injury was an injury, and she never wanted to hurt him.
His hands curled around her waist. “Delaney?”
She buried her face against him. “I love you.”
“Delaney, I know it’s not the wedding you wanted. You wanted a beach, you wanted daisies, you wanted—”
Her head whipped right back up. “You remember all of that?”
“I remember everything when it comes to you.”
Her heart seemed to swell in her chest. “It was never about the beach. Or the daisies. It was about you.”
“I want to give you the world,” he told her, voice gruff. “I am so sorry for the pain I caused you. I am so sorry for the years we lost. You are all that I’ve ever wanted. You are my life.”
“The past is over.” They could not live in the past. Pain and regret? No, she was done with that. “I want you to be my future.”
“You’re mine. My future. All I want. All I ever wanted.”
She didn’t glance back through that one-way mirror. What was the point? Everything she wanted—everything that Delaney had ever needed—waited right in front of her.
Nash’s head lowered.
She kissed him.