Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Present Day

Once we’ve entered the bank, we move to the desk where I will sign in to get inside the vault.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the woman asks.

I give her a smile I don’t feel. “Hi, I need to get into my box.”

“Of course! Box number and name?”

“Regina Hale. Box number 3291.” I pull out the ID I used in my last identity and the small key I’ve kept stashed away for months. She opens the ledger to the page for my box and I sign underneath the last—and only—time I’ve accessed this box. The day it was opened.

“You’ve got company outside. He just arrived. Standing near the steps,” I hear Devon whisper through the earpiece.

I let out a slow, deep breath while George and I follow the bank attendant through the vault and into a private room, where the walls are lined with little brass doors and a large table sits in the middle. She slides her key into one slot while I slide my key into the other one. We turn it at the same time.

Once the door pops open, she says, “Feel free to put your drawer on the table and take all the time you need.” Then she leaves, shutting the door behind her. It’s silent except for the clock on the wall. Tick, tick, tick. The room feels like it’s closing in on me.

George reaches inside the box and pulls the drawer out, the contents still hidden beneath the closed lid. He sets it on the table.

He stares at me. Five seconds. Then ten. We both know there is no going back to the way things were after this. I can see a touch of sadness and maybe even a little regret in his gaze, but I refuse to let any of my emotions show. Finally, he returns his attention to the box in front of him. Slowly, he pulls the lid off.

The only thing inside is a small, white origami swan.

A look of confusion flashes across his face for one second, then two.

The confusion shifts to anger. An anger so consuming that it feels like it sucks the air out of the room. His eyes narrow and his brows snap together. His jaw clenches.

Tick, tick, tick.

“I guess I don’t need to call you George anymore,” I say, if only to drown out the clock.

He picks up the swan by one of the little wings and twirls it around. Then he takes his time, slowly opening it up, verifying that the paper is blank. There’s no question that there is no information on either him or Victor Connolly in this box.

I was prepared for a lot of different reactions, but the unrelenting attention on the empty box wasn’t one of them. “I used to think you picked Mr. Smith because you were a big Matrix fan or lacked imagination, but you are literally Mr. Smith. Mr. Christopher Smith. Pretty ingenious, actually. Your name is already one of the most generic names out there.” I’m rambling.

A laugh escapes him but there’s no humor behind it.

He finally faces me, the unfolded paper still in his hand. One step, then two. Each step he takes toward me, I take a step back.

The paper slips from his hand and floats to the floor.

Another step forward.

Another step I take back.

“When did you figure it out?”

“Figure out that my boss and my delivery guy were the same person? Figure out your real name? Yesterday afternoon,” I answer.

He nods to the open safe deposit box. “But this has been waiting for me for much longer.”

I nod.

“While I’m impressed you were able to discover what so many others have tried and failed to in the past, you knowing my name doesn’t change a single thing.” There is an edge to his voice that tells me it’s taking everything in him to remain in control. “Where is the information Amy Holder stole from me? You left that hotel just as her room went up in flames, and this was your first stop. Don’t lie to me again and say you didn’t keep it for yourself.” He glances to the hundred or so other boxes lining the walls, and I can see what he’s thinking, that I’ve got more than one box and it could still be close by.

“Oh, I got what Amy took, I just didn’t leave it here,” I say, gesturing to the other side of the room. “But I knew you would think I did. That was one of the many lessons you taught me: It’s hard to get caught if you aren’t in possession of what you stole when they catch you.”

We’re only inches apart now that my back is against the wall. The metal handles of the boxes behind me are digging into my skin. I use the pain to help focus. I may be at his mercy in this room, but there is a crowd on the other side of this door. It won’t be easy for him to walk out of here without me, since the woman who let us in is waiting to lock the box back up.

“You failed a job for your own benefit.”

“You’re assuming I failed. That job was successful, you just didn’t understand what the end goal was.” I’m throwing his words back in his face, and from the look he is giving me, I know I’d be dead if we were anywhere other than where we are.

He crosses his arms. “It seems we are more alike than you would want to admit. Instead of completing the job you were hired to do, you took advantage of the situation.”

The words hit their mark, but I can’t let him get in my head. “I’ve learned . . . so much from you over the years. But probably the most important thing I learned was—Do whatever I must to save myself and the job. Those are words I worked very hard to live up to.”

“You’ve come a long way since that trailer park in North Carolina. I had high hopes for you, but what a disappointment you turned out to be,” he sneers at me.

“I was your best asset and we both know it. You know nothing about disappointments.”

He’s leaning over me, forcing me to tilt my head back to see his face. “How long have you been planning to betray me?”

“Four years,” I answer, without bothering to correct him. “Only half as long as you have been planning to betray me.”

I can tell he’s thinking back, trying to determine what happened four years ago that would make me turn on him.

Finally he says, “The Tate job.”

I nod. “The Tate job.”

He leans back and spreads his arms out. “Are you going to get to the point of all this? I’m assuming there is a reason for this little stunt.”

“Amy told you she had information on Victor Connolly and the crimes his family has committed, but what she really had was information that shows you’d been double-crossing them for years. Not a good idea to screw over one of the biggest crime families on the East Coast. She had it all: wire transfers, documents, and communications that show you’ve been skimming money, selling their secrets, and using information to your benefit instead of theirs. You’ve made them think you are protecting them when in reality you’re their biggest threat. But it was useless to have blackmail on you when I didn’t know your real name, Christopher.”

All humor has been wiped from his face. “Cut the bullshit. What do you want, Lucca?”

“Absolutely nothing. And it’s Miss Porter now. I’ve expended all the energy that I care to on you. This is just a friendly warning, since we go back so far. You have some old friends waiting for you outside. We really shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.” I stare at him two seconds, then three, before I add, “Did you think I wouldn’t have a contingency plan in place?”

One eyebrow raises as he stares at me. He’s always been good at wielding silence like a weapon, and this moment is no different.

“Today doesn’t end the way you think it does,” he says, his face just inches from mine. “You better look over your shoulder every chance you get, because I promise you one day I will be there.”

“You’ve already taken the one thing I’ve cared about. Lucca Marino is gone, dead and buried. There’s nothing left for you to hold over me.”

He moves away from me and it takes everything in me not to collapse on the floor. He throws the door open and it slams against the wall.

Just before he leaves the vault, I say, “Don’t get sentimental now. It’s just business.”

He’s on his phone the second he hits the bank lobby. The woman who let us in the room approaches me but I wave her off. “We don’t need the box any longer. The key is still in it.”

“No problem, Mrs. Hale, I just need you to sign the closing documents . . .”

I ignore her and follow him out of the bank and see the exact moment he spots Victor Connolly and several members of the Connolly family waiting on the steps outside. He hesitates a few seconds then ends his call, sliding his phone in his back pocket. He seems to stand a bit taller before walking out to face the man he has stolen millions from. He doesn’t look back at me once.

He’s ushered into the back of the SUV, while Victor Connolly nods at me before getting into the front passenger seat. We had all the information Amy had collected sent to his hotel room last night with the promise of delivering the man who betrayed him today. I do believe Mr. Smith has probably gotten himself out of a lot of bad spots in the past, but I don’t believe he’s walking away from this one.

“Damn, L, I wish I would have hooked you up with video, too, because I would have loved to see his face when he opened that box,” Devon says in my ear.

“I feel like I’m going to vomit.” Now that it’s over, the adrenaline that has been fueling me is leaving quickly. “It’s hard to reconcile the guy I knew as George with Mr. Smith.”

“A total mind fuck. Grab a cab. Your flight leaves in an hour and a half.”

It’s a thirty-minute drive to my destination, and I am exhausted. I’m not sure I can make it the last few miles before falling asleep. Thankfully, the driveway comes into sight before too long. I turn in, then make my way down the winding gravel road.

The front light is on, which I appreciate since it’s completely dark outside. I drag myself from the car, hauling myself up the porch steps. Leaning on the bell, I don’t let up until the door jerks open.

“That’s a little much, don’t you think?” Devon says as he pulls the door open.

“It’s been the longest three days of my life.” I fall onto the couch and kick my shoes off. “I’m sleeping for three days straight.”

“There’s a bedroom down the hall,” he says, but throws a blanket over me, then cuts out the lamp on the side table because he knows I’m not moving.

“I guess everything went well?”

It takes a lot of effort, but I lift my head. She’s in simple pajamas and her hair is sticking up in every direction, and the petty part of me is glad I woke her up after the week I’ve had.

“Looks like I won’t be going down for your murder after all.”

Amy Holder lets out a laugh as my eyes fall shut and I’m dead to the world.