Reciprocity
Page 43
She grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk and wiped away any leftovers. My hand reached out and ran through her hair, straightening out the mess I’d made. “I have a meeting, but don’t worry. I’ll get you tonight.”
She smiled and stood up, then leaned forward for a kiss. “Can’t wait.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget your coffee,” I called after her.
Turning around, she picked it up and brought it to her lips, taking a sip. She let out a little moan, smiling as she licked her lips.
“Perfect.” She winked at me and took another sip, then headed out the door.
Fuck, she was naughty. I f**king loved it.
My little afternoon tryst with Lila helped calm me, but didn’t disperse with the threat hanging over me. Making it worse was that it wasn’t just me anymore—I had Lila to protect. With my dying breath, I would make sure she was safe.
Which led me to my current dilemma.
I walked into my home office and sat at my desk, swiveling the chair around to face the closed closet door.
It was mad…crazy…insane for me to think about what was in there and what I could do with it. The box was buried under other file boxes. A label reading “Taxes 2008” was affixed to the exterior.
The only tax documents inside were Via Marconi’s. My insurance resided there as well.
Phone records, witness accounts, photos, etc.—enough evidence to tie Vincent Marconi to over five deaths and seven felonies. It only scratched the surface, but it was enough to get him put away for life and begin having his operation dissected, which would lead to his empire being torn apart.
I wasn’t going into the situation again believing that everything would be fine. His daughter still had five years left to serve before even the possibility of parole. Until then, and probably even after, I was a marked man.
What pissed me off was that the little bit of invisibility I’d had, the shadowing from his vision, was blown away because someone in an office where I no longer worked was forming a case against him. Marconi knew what I had on him—I was stupid enough to gloat in his face that he was next. Between that and the death of Grace and my baby, he was satisfied for the time-being. Happy to keep me scared and buried in my own personal hell.
It was to the point of being damned if I do, or damned if I don’t. Seeing me with Tom would raise a red flag to Vincent. His first intuition would tell him I was working with them.
I was a dead man.
“Nate?”
I looked to the door to find Lila standing there, a worried expression on her face. “Yeah?”
She walked into the room and stood in front of me. “Didn’t you hear me calling?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
She pursed her lips. “What’s wrong?”
I sighed and pulled her close, leaning forward to rest my head on her stomach. “Running into Tom Preston has f**ked things up, and I’m afraid for us.” Her fingers moved through my hair, nails scratching, calming. I pulled back to look up at her. “What do I do to protect you?”
“Protect me?”
“You know from who, and now I’m left with this decision. We’re at a fork in the road, but which way will kill us?” My chest clenched, and I nuzzled into her. “I’m not sure there’s an alternative at this point.” I looked back up at her, pleading to anything that would listen. “The most important thing to me is keeping you alive.”
Her brow scrunched up, and she shook her head. “There is no life for me without you.”
My chest tightened, and I pulled her to my lap, holding her close. I didn’t know if there was enough hope and prayers to deities above to keep her safe, but I’d do whatever it took. Even if it meant killing the devil myself.
The next morning, I pulled three expanding files along with a manila file out of my bag and set them on my desk. After soaking in my wife, I’d broached the box that haunted me and emptied its contents. They stared at me, and I stared back. It hurt me to even touch them, to bring them back out into the light of day.
Memories and heartbreak tore at me all evening. Nightmares that were too real haunted my dreams. I couldn’t stop touching Lila, my worst fears killing me from the inside out. My heart begged me not to do it, but at the same time, it wanted justice—the files could help with that.
I sat at my desk, my fingers running across my lips as I looked at their worn edges. Sending them to Tom would make things worse. Then again, I was already on the Marconi hitlist. The information would help in his case—I had no doubt about that—but I had to be discreet about delivery. There was no way I could walk up to Tom and hand it to him—we’d both be dead that day.
I sat back and rubbed my face.
Sending the files could help keep Lila safe. If Marconi was convicted, he might leave her alone. He might stop keeping tabs.
I stood and picked up the files, heading out of my office and down the hall. I needed help and guidance. Who better than someone I trusted and had lost the same person I had?
“Hey, Cassie, is Jack available?” I smiled down at his secretary.
“Hi, Nathan.” She looked down at her computer. “You’re in luck. He’s got a break right now and he just got off the phone.”
“Thanks.” I stepped forward and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Jack called from inside.
I opened the door and walked through, closing it behind me. He smiled at me from across his desk, his gaze narrowing on the files in my hand.
“How are you doing, Nate?”
I sat down in the chair across from him and placed the files on the edge of his desk as I leaned back.
“I ran into Tom Preston the other day.” I jumped right in.
“Oh yeah? How’s he doing these days?”
“He’s working on a case against Vincent Marconi.”
The smile slid from his face. “Jesus.”
“I’m pretty sure we were spotted together.”
“How do you know?”
“Lila’s foster brother is a cop. He told me Marconi’s men, along with some dirty cops, were tailing those involved with the case. The list includes me.”
“But why you? You aren’t involved with it.”
I leaned forward and placed my finger on the stack of files. “Because of this.”
She smiled and stood up, then leaned forward for a kiss. “Can’t wait.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget your coffee,” I called after her.
Turning around, she picked it up and brought it to her lips, taking a sip. She let out a little moan, smiling as she licked her lips.
“Perfect.” She winked at me and took another sip, then headed out the door.
Fuck, she was naughty. I f**king loved it.
My little afternoon tryst with Lila helped calm me, but didn’t disperse with the threat hanging over me. Making it worse was that it wasn’t just me anymore—I had Lila to protect. With my dying breath, I would make sure she was safe.
Which led me to my current dilemma.
I walked into my home office and sat at my desk, swiveling the chair around to face the closed closet door.
It was mad…crazy…insane for me to think about what was in there and what I could do with it. The box was buried under other file boxes. A label reading “Taxes 2008” was affixed to the exterior.
The only tax documents inside were Via Marconi’s. My insurance resided there as well.
Phone records, witness accounts, photos, etc.—enough evidence to tie Vincent Marconi to over five deaths and seven felonies. It only scratched the surface, but it was enough to get him put away for life and begin having his operation dissected, which would lead to his empire being torn apart.
I wasn’t going into the situation again believing that everything would be fine. His daughter still had five years left to serve before even the possibility of parole. Until then, and probably even after, I was a marked man.
What pissed me off was that the little bit of invisibility I’d had, the shadowing from his vision, was blown away because someone in an office where I no longer worked was forming a case against him. Marconi knew what I had on him—I was stupid enough to gloat in his face that he was next. Between that and the death of Grace and my baby, he was satisfied for the time-being. Happy to keep me scared and buried in my own personal hell.
It was to the point of being damned if I do, or damned if I don’t. Seeing me with Tom would raise a red flag to Vincent. His first intuition would tell him I was working with them.
I was a dead man.
“Nate?”
I looked to the door to find Lila standing there, a worried expression on her face. “Yeah?”
She walked into the room and stood in front of me. “Didn’t you hear me calling?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
She pursed her lips. “What’s wrong?”
I sighed and pulled her close, leaning forward to rest my head on her stomach. “Running into Tom Preston has f**ked things up, and I’m afraid for us.” Her fingers moved through my hair, nails scratching, calming. I pulled back to look up at her. “What do I do to protect you?”
“Protect me?”
“You know from who, and now I’m left with this decision. We’re at a fork in the road, but which way will kill us?” My chest clenched, and I nuzzled into her. “I’m not sure there’s an alternative at this point.” I looked back up at her, pleading to anything that would listen. “The most important thing to me is keeping you alive.”
Her brow scrunched up, and she shook her head. “There is no life for me without you.”
My chest tightened, and I pulled her to my lap, holding her close. I didn’t know if there was enough hope and prayers to deities above to keep her safe, but I’d do whatever it took. Even if it meant killing the devil myself.
The next morning, I pulled three expanding files along with a manila file out of my bag and set them on my desk. After soaking in my wife, I’d broached the box that haunted me and emptied its contents. They stared at me, and I stared back. It hurt me to even touch them, to bring them back out into the light of day.
Memories and heartbreak tore at me all evening. Nightmares that were too real haunted my dreams. I couldn’t stop touching Lila, my worst fears killing me from the inside out. My heart begged me not to do it, but at the same time, it wanted justice—the files could help with that.
I sat at my desk, my fingers running across my lips as I looked at their worn edges. Sending them to Tom would make things worse. Then again, I was already on the Marconi hitlist. The information would help in his case—I had no doubt about that—but I had to be discreet about delivery. There was no way I could walk up to Tom and hand it to him—we’d both be dead that day.
I sat back and rubbed my face.
Sending the files could help keep Lila safe. If Marconi was convicted, he might leave her alone. He might stop keeping tabs.
I stood and picked up the files, heading out of my office and down the hall. I needed help and guidance. Who better than someone I trusted and had lost the same person I had?
“Hey, Cassie, is Jack available?” I smiled down at his secretary.
“Hi, Nathan.” She looked down at her computer. “You’re in luck. He’s got a break right now and he just got off the phone.”
“Thanks.” I stepped forward and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Jack called from inside.
I opened the door and walked through, closing it behind me. He smiled at me from across his desk, his gaze narrowing on the files in my hand.
“How are you doing, Nate?”
I sat down in the chair across from him and placed the files on the edge of his desk as I leaned back.
“I ran into Tom Preston the other day.” I jumped right in.
“Oh yeah? How’s he doing these days?”
“He’s working on a case against Vincent Marconi.”
The smile slid from his face. “Jesus.”
“I’m pretty sure we were spotted together.”
“How do you know?”
“Lila’s foster brother is a cop. He told me Marconi’s men, along with some dirty cops, were tailing those involved with the case. The list includes me.”
“But why you? You aren’t involved with it.”
I leaned forward and placed my finger on the stack of files. “Because of this.”
