31. Cash

31

CASH

I sat across from Senator Kavanaugh, waiting impatiently as he finished up a phone call. We were at dinner in a fancy restaurant, but he didn't hesitate to conduct business despite the fact that he was being rude. I smoothed down my tie, clenching my fist as I remembered why I was doing this.

One breath.

His eyes pleaded with me.

Pull the trigger. Put me out of my misery.

How could I do this to my brother? Could I really end his life?

I closed my eyes as my finger slid over the curve of metal.

Just do it. Pull it and end the pain.

You can do it, Cash.

I looked to my father as he pressed his hand to my shoulder. "Please, Cash. Do it for me."

For him. For Rafe.

I pulled the trigger. His head snapped back. The life left his eyes. My twin. My brother for life was gone. I had done it.

Blood spilled from my hands. I tried to wipe it away, but it bloomed brighter and spread faster. There was no erasing what I had done.

"You did it for your brother," my father said .

"I killed him," I murmured.

I let the blood flow, knowing there was no way to wash away what I had done.

"Cash."

His face flashed in front of my eyes.

"Cash, please."

I pulled the trigger again. His eyes stared at me through the scope.

"Please."

I screamed as I pulled the trigger over and over again, but he wouldn't stop staring at me.

"You didn't save me."

"I tried!"

"You failed me. I'm dead because of you. End it, Cash. You need to end it."

I pulled the trigger one more time, screaming as the bullet tore through his head.

"Please."

"Mr. Owens."

My eyes snapped to meet Senator Kavanaugh's. The sounds of the restaurant replaced the horror and terror of what happened on the island. My fingers tightened around my whiskey and I took a moment to breathe, reminding myself why I was here.

"Senator," I finally ground out.

"I trust my boy is well. I don't hear from him much." His tone was friendly, but there was no mistaking the anger and disappointment that Kavanaugh hadn't followed in his footsteps.

"We keep him busy. He's a vital asset."

"I'm sure he is." He shifted in his chair, his hand running down his tie. He was about to ask a favor of me, one I wouldn't be able to say no to if I wanted his help. "But you know, he would be better served in Washington. Bradford always had a way of working a room."

"He does."

"And he would be a valued asset by my side."

I swallowed the contents of my glass, trying to figure out how best to work around the matter of his son. I needed his help, but I couldn't sacrifice Kavanaugh to the wolves all for my own personal gain. Revenge would always be there, but a man like Kavanaugh would walk away if I even considered what his father was asking.

And he was asking. This was how politicians worked. Subtle hints that reminded you who you were and put you in your place when you needed a favor. I needed something from him, and if he was going to help, I had to offer him something in return. There was no such thing as helping for the sake of helping in a world like this.

"I can't speak for your son. What he does is up to him."

"I'm sure you could grease the wheels," he grinned.

I tried to find the similarities between Kavanaugh and his father, but there weren't many. While Kavanaugh was tall with dashing good looks and dark hair, his father was older, graying, and had that pudgy sort of look about him from nights spent with too much alcohol. It was clear that the reason he needed his son was because of his personality and the charm he naturally exuded.

"I can talk to him," I finally said. "But that's as far as I'm willing to take it. Whether or not he chooses to help you out is up to him."

"Make it a convincing conversation." His tone was almost threatening. I could see why Kavanaugh despised the man. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I need inside information about The Syndicate."

He barked out a laugh. "Is that all?"

Cocking my head to the side, I continued. "Since my brother sacrificed his life to help take them down, the government, as you know, has finally taken an interest."

"You mean they've taken over."

"Precisely. They've made it damn near impossible to get any intel on the few remaining members."

"Perhaps it's that way for a reason."

"The only reason I can see is that someone is trying to protect them. By now, they should all have been taken out."

"Are you accusing someone of working with The Syndicate?"

"I'm saying that I've earned the right to have that information. And I would greatly appreciate any help you can give in obtaining that information. "

He smirked at me. "What makes you think I have any information like that?"

"Senator, you're on the Senate Intelligence Committee. You have more access to that information than anyone else I know—aside from the other members of the committee."

"Aside from them," he repeated.

"I'm not accusing you of anything. To be clear, I only want to take down the members of The Syndicate."

He nodded, thinking it over. Then to my surprise, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. "And if you did find out who was behind keeping this information quiet…what would you do with it?"

"What would you want me to do with it?" I asked, knowing there was another favor coming.

The waiter stopped by and set down refills, giving him a moment to consider his answer. My palms were sweating as I desperately waited to hear what he had to say. If I only got the members of The Syndicate, I would have to be happy with dismantling the organization. But if he could hand the information to take down the corrupt politicians who had allowed The Syndicate to work for so long without repercussion, that would be the golden ticket.

"If I'm not mistaken," he hedged, "your father has…a bit of a talent for…controlling certain aspects of government."

So, he knew who my father was. I didn't for a second consider that Kavanaugh had anything to do with this. After all, he just found out, and he wasn't on speaking terms with his father.

"I'm afraid I can't say what my father does or doesn't do."

"You know, you would make a very good politician as well. Come now, we both need something, and the other has the power to get it."

"It would help if you told me first what it is you want."

"I'm sure you've heard by now about the virus that was nearly unleashed on the American people," he said quietly. "And I'm sure you know how bad it would be if that information got out."

My father had mentioned something about a virus, but he always kept that information under his hat. He didn't ever give more information than he needed to. But the Senator obviously thought otherwise .

"It would be very bad." I was going to have to ask my father about this.

"Your father was very adept at taking out the people in charge of the whole fiasco. In fact, anyone who knows what happened would say he saved the country by cleaning up the mess that my fellow comrades made. I…I may have another situation on my hands that requires his attention."

"Then why don't you call him?"

"I'm sure you know that no one calls your father. He intervenes when necessary."

"Most aren't even aware of who he is," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "I can't help but wonder how you found out and why you're so willing to discuss it in a restaurant."

"Let's just say I only know who he is because it was necessary during the previous crisis. As I said, we are on the verge of yet another potential disaster, and your father's help would be most appreciated. If he would be willing to hear me out, I would gladly hand over the names of those suspected of being involved with The Syndicate."

"If you have the names, why don't you put it before a panel and have a hearing?"

"Because the type of evidence I have is not the kind that would get these men convicted. In any courtroom, they would walk away without even a slap on the wrist. But I'm sure you would find the evidence compelling enough to move forward."

"I wouldn't condemn any man without evidence."

He pulled out something from his pocket and slid it across the table to me. "I figured you would say that. Here's a small portion of the evidence I have. Without names, of course. If you feel this information could be useful, please give me a call."

He stood and buttoned his suit.

"What about the other information?"

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours." He started to leave, but stopped beside my chair, not bothering to look at me as he spoke. "You know, it occurred to me that your father—with all his contacts—should have been able to get you the information you needed without my help. Perhaps that's something you want to look into. "

His words were like a sharp knife to the gut, slowly slicing away my insides. He was right. My father was Shadow. He should have been able to find out everything about the remaining players of The Syndicate. So, why was I here bargaining with the Senator when he should already have the information?

I stood from my chair, tossing money down for the waiter, covering the Senator's drinks and my own. It was time to pay my father a visit.

I hadn't seen him in weeks. I couldn't stand the thought of staring at my father, watching the light die in his eyes the way it had that day I pulled the trigger. I could handle talking to him on the phone, but anything more was just too fucking much.

He walked down the street to the apartment we'd set up as a sort of headquarters. As soon as he was inside, I crossed the street, checking one last time to make sure we were alone. He wasn't expecting me, but I needed it that way. The senator's words spun around in my head until I couldn't fathom a single reason The Shadow—my own fucking father—would have for not finding out who on the Senate Intelligence Committee was benefiting from The Syndicate. I was about to find out.

I unlocked the door and slipped inside, not even flinching when I went into the apartment and immediately had a gun shoved in my face. My father breathed out a sigh and holstered his weapon.

"You could have told me you were coming."

"It was better this way."

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"Because you and I need to have a talk."

"Did you find something out?"

"It's more like I had my eyes opened."

I saw the shift in his stance, the way his muscles tightened at my words. Fuck, he was hiding something from me. "Who on the Senate Intelligence Committee benefits from The Syndicate?"

"Why would I know? "

"Why would you not know?"

His eyes narrowed slightly in challenge. "What exactly are you accusing me of?"

"It was brought to my attention that if anyone should be able to find out who was behind keeping The Syndicate running, it would be you."

"And who enlightened you about that?"

"Senator Kavanaugh when I met with him to discuss the very subject."

His jaw clenched and he shook his head at me. "No."

"No, what?"

"Don't fucking go there," he snapped, shoving his fingers through his hair. "Leave it alone."

"I can't," I argued. "They benefited from The Syndicate. Your son gave his life for your daughter. And now you're telling me to walk away?"

"Yes!" he shouted. "I'm telling you to walk away because I already buried one son," he hissed. "I won't bury another."

I stepped back, shaking my head at the man. "You and Rafe…both of you had your secrets. You just couldn't let anyone else in. And look at where that got you. He's dead now. I had to fucking shoot him!" I shouted, banging my fist against my chest. "Do you know what that did to me? I still have fucking nightmares! I can't sleep. I'm lying to my wife! I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror. And you want me to walk away?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "For me. Walk away and don't go near this. I promise you, it's not something you can win."

I could hear the terror in his voice as he pleaded with me, but if I didn't see this through, I would never be able to live with myself. I could never look Eva in the eyes again and be the man she married. He was my brother. My fucking brother, and I shot him. This had to end, and I wouldn't stop until every last fucker who crossed me was in the ground.

"I will win. I will end this with or without your help. What's it going to be? "

He hung his head slightly, shaking it. "You won't get far. I promise you, this will only end in more death."

I turned for the door and yanked it open. "So be it."