20. Michael

20

MICHAEL

"If we can get a message to Rafe, he can find a way to get Max down there."

"Why not Scottie?" I asked Cash.

"Because Max knows the Caribbean better. He has a better chance of getting in and out without as much trouble."

"Besides, Scottie will vomit on everyone," Rae muttered.

"And that," Cash agreed.

"What's the message?" Jack asked.

I wasn't sure about that yet. "It has to be something Claire can easily slip into conversation without anyone realizing she's passing a message. Her calls are always monitored."

"Does she have a designated time she calls?" Cash asked Claire.

"No, I never know when she'll call. I think Zavala does that as a way to hold power over her. And me."

"He's fucking with your head," I griped.

"We need to be prepared," Cash reminded me. "The only way to do that is to figure out how to work a message into the conversation."

"What if I talk about taking a trip?" Claire asked.

"No, he's going to check up on anything you plan to do. He'll be suspicious of a trip," Cash said.

"The shelter," I suggested. "You work with animals. Have you discussed it with her before?"

"Only in passing. But I'm sure Zavala already knows that I work there."

"You could talk about a dog named Max."

"Right, but what's the message?" Rae asked. "Just because she mentions a dog named Max doesn't mean that she'll know to tell Rafe."

"And that's if she even sees him," Cash sighed. "This whole thing is a fucking long shot."

"I could tell her that a dog reminds me of our dog Max," Claire suggested. "We had a dog, but his name was Rover."

"Would she remember this dog?" I asked.

"He was her favorite."

I looked at my son. It was a long shot for sure, but it was our only option. "The next time he calls, we'll have you mention your work at the shelter and Max. If he gets the message, we should hear something soon enough."

"Are you sure?" Claire asked.

Cash smirked. "If Rafe is still alive, he'll find a way to contact us."

Claire blew out a long breath, rubbing her forehead.

"I think I'll take Claire home. If Zavala calls, we'll relay the message. Until then, we wait."

"We'll be posted outside your house," Jack said to Claire.

"That's not necessary," Claire said, blushing slightly. "You'll be there, right?"

I nodded. "It's just an extra precaution. I don't want him to sneak up on us again."

I watched my words, not wanting to scare her. An attack by Zavala was very likely. Rafe was already on his island. He had to be worried that we were making a move again. We'd do everything possible to convince him nothing was going on, but in the meantime, I appreciated the additional help.

The drive home was quiet. With everything that happened last night and earlier today, it had to have taken its toll on Claire. Her eyes were sunken from lack of sleep, but she tried to pretend she was okay. That's the way she had always been. She was so full of life, even when things were hard. It was one of the things I loved about her, and I missed that strength over the last five years.

Pulling into her driveway, I directed Jack to the back of the property so he could park out of sight. Walking around to the passenger side, I opened the door for Claire and led her to the house. After clearing the downstairs, I headed upstairs, standing in the doorway of her room. Standing here now, all I could see was Claire on the floor, fighting for her life as men repeatedly attacked her. The anger consuming me was too much to take. I couldn't stand the thought of her sleeping here, knowing what happened. How had she handled it all these years? Why would she stay here?

"I had to," she whispered behind me.

I turned, cocking my head in question.

"You want to know why I stayed in here."

When I didn't respond, she walked around me, staring at the floor. "I often come up here and spend a good hour just staring at this spot." She was by the wall, right by the wall safe. "This is where it happened. And it haunts me, but I think I needed to be here, to prove to myself that they didn't get the best of me."

"You shouldn't have had to do that," I grumbled.

"It is what it is."

I walked in and wrapped my arms around her. "Not anymore. When this is over, we're burning this fucking house to the ground."

She smiled, looking over her shoulder at me. I bent down and pressed a kiss to her lips. "And where will we live?"

"Anywhere but here. In the mountains. In the middle of the fucking desert. I don't care. Pick the place and we'll go there. Hell, we can live on the road."

"So, if I said Alaska, you would be okay with that?"

"Are you kidding? All that cold weather? I'll keep you naked in my bed all day."

Her face turned bright red and I instantly backtracked.

"Not that I'm expecting?—"

"It's fine, Michael. I…I haven't been with another man."

"Because of what happened."

"No, well, partly. But mostly because even though it's not legal, in my heart, I've always been married to you."

Fuck, I loved this woman. "I haven't been with anyone else either."

"Yeah, right," she laughed.

When she tried to walk away, I stopped her, forcing her to face me. "I'm serious. After what happened with Zavala's sister…I knew I fucked up. I couldn't stand the look on your face and I knew nothing would ever be the same again. Then, when I saw you in the hospital, I swore I would never touch another woman."

A huff of laughter was not what I was expecting to leave her lips. She pulled away, stepping away from me.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"It's just…" She pressed her hand to her forehead, clearly frustrated. "You say that, but you were with two other women when we were married. I haven't forgotten about that. I just don't understand why crossing the line with Zavala's sister was too much, but being married and having kids with other women is…some kind of excuse for being on the job."

She was absolutely fucking right. "It's no excuse. All I can tell you is that I was young and stupid."

"You were married up until a few years ago. You made a commitment to that woman!"

"I did."

"And you never told me. You weren't honest with me."

"No, I wasn't."

"So, tell me where we go from here. How do I look past all the lies and destruction when I know that you have other kids out there? How do we do this?"

I wish I had the answers for her. "I don't know."

"That's not good enough. I'm torn between wanting you and kicking your ass. I don't know how to make sense of any of this!"

"Those women are out of my life," I said, not knowing what else to tell her.

"And I should be grateful for that," she huffed. "But would you still be here if it weren't for the fact that they died? Would you still be with them and me?"

I wanted to tell her no, but why would she believe me? "I don't know what I would have done. Larissa died years ago. And Grace…I did love her. I was in love with both of you, but what I felt for you, it was always stronger. I don't know if I would have left her. And there's no way for me to know now. She's dead and all I can do is move on with my life. Whether or not I'm a part of yours is up to you."

A heavy sigh left her lips. "Let's just…I can't think about this right now. I'm going to make dinner."

She walked out of the room and headed downstairs. I didn't know what would happen with us, but I knew she wasn't staying in this room another fucking night. I grabbed some of her things and shut the door behind me, heading downstairs. I knew she saw me set her things on the living room chair, but she said nothing.

She busied herself in the kitchen, so I went outside to take the opportunity to check in with the guys. Jack was stationed at the front of the house, his gaze firmly settled on the road. But he heard me approach.

"It's quiet."

I stopped beside him, looking into the distance. "Let's hope he doesn't come for us. It won't be pretty."

"Don't worry. We're trained in this sort of thing." I could hear the cocky smirk in his voice, and that had me fucking worried.

"He's not like your other targets. Don't underestimate the lengths he'll go to."

"I don't. I just know that we're better than him."

"I made that mistake once," I admitted. It took a strong man to admit when he was wrong—when he had underestimated his opponent. I had done that before. I wouldn't do it again. "His men are mercenaries, Jack. They have no loyalty except to the man who signs their paychecks. Trust me when I tell you that what they did to Claire was nothing short of a vicious attack. The state they left her in…think of Fox on his worst day."

He turned his gaze on me. "His worst day is when he's meditating. It's his good days you have to worry about."

I groaned internally at the melodrama. "Either way, inflicting pain is a competitive sport for these guys. We need a plan of attack because they will come."

"I thought you wanted to be at OPS when this started," he said in confusion.

"I do, but I wouldn't put it past Zavala to already know what we're planning."

"Then we should move today."

I shook my head. "We can't. When Isabelle calls, we have to be here. She only calls the house phone."

"We can redirect the call."

"He'll know. I don't know how the fuck he knows these things, but he does. It would tip him off."

Jack sighed. "You know, I've known Rafe a long fucking time. I wouldn't know he's your son."

"Why's that?"

"He's fucked up. Strategic thinker, fucking brilliant at planning…I had no fucking clue all of this was about Isabelle. He kept that one close to the vest."

I should probably be offended by his statement. He knew I was Shadow, but he had no fucking clue what I had done over the last forty years. The agency I worked for in the beginning trained me well—to live in the shadows and be smarter than any other person in the room. That was why when I showed up here, I already knew every fucking detail of anyone who came in contact with Rafe or Cash since this whole fucking thing started. And then I went back to the beginning and checked again. I wasn't leaving anything to chance.

Just like Rafe. He got his intellect from me because I trained him from an early age, though he didn't know it. Cash was different. He took to my training, but he always followed his own path. I was never able to get him to adhere to my way of thinking.

I shook my head, trying not to focus too much on how I had basically led Rafe down this path. "He didn't want anyone to know. The more people who knew, the more likely it was that Zavala would find out who he was. He couldn't risk it."

"Is that why he goes by Rafe now?"

Even I didn't know that one. "Could be. No one ever really knows what's going on in Rafe's head."

I felt Jack grow stiff beside me. I was surprised he was even here after what Rafe did to him.

"I want to thank you for putting aside your hatred for my son to help."

"There was a time I would have put a bullet in his head."

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, one, I was too fucked up on drugs, thanks in part to him."

"And the second?"

"I guess I always figured Rafe had another play. There had to be a reason he would stand over me and push drugs into my system. Not that I condone his behavior, but Rafe always had another agenda. He was playing a part, and I had to trust that. Even after I found out why he was there…my head was so fucked up. I was just happy to walk away with my sanity."

"You still took Baz down. You completed your mission."

"But at what cost?" Jack asked, staring into the distance. The mental scars he bore were plain to those who bothered to look. "I don't criticize Rafe for the lengths he would go to for Isabelle. If the situation were reversed, I might do the same thing. But I'm not the man I was five years ago. Taking that job changed my life. I found a woman who would stand by me through anything and I have the best fucking kid a guy could ask for. But I could do without the underlying need to take a hit."

"That never goes away," I grinned.

I could feel the weight of his stare on me. "You too?"

"For the job. It's fucking amazing the things you're willing to put yourself through in the name of the job. And when it's all over, you swear you'll never do anything like that again. Until another job comes up and it requires you to go the distance."

"Maybe for you."

"It's in all of us. You might not realize it, but one day, you'll do something you never thought you would do, and you'll look back on this moment and wonder what the fuck happened to that guy who had his shit together. And then you'll realize that guy is willing to bend—to break even—to do whatever's necessary. Because sometimes, your life doesn't mean anything in the big scheme of things."

"That's a pretty defeatist attitude."

"No, it's the truth. Men like us don't always have a choice. It's in our nature to protect and go the distance. And you know if you don't, you'll never forgive yourself for not giving it your all."

"No offense, Michael, but what you feel right now for Claire…that willingness to protect her no matter what. The knowledge that if you push too far, she'll get hurt and you'd rather put a bullet in your head than ever let her feel even an ounce of pain…I already have that. My kid and my wife mean everything to me. I know what it's like to almost lose them. I don't need my wife to get gang raped for me to have an a-ha moment. I will never put them in danger, and I will turn down any job if I think it's going to come back on them in any way. That's the vow I take every fucking morning when I put my gun in my holster and go on a job."

I respected his attitude, even the way he threw my mistakes in my face. But there was one major thing he was missing. "If you think this job won't come back to bite you in the ass, you need a fucking reality check."