Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Three weeks later, five doctor house calls, and more pills than she could count, Emily was up and around, going for short walks outside around the porch for fresh air. It was embarrassing having to be taken care of by Charge—fed, bathed, and, yes, all that other bathroom stuff. When she'd complained, he'd pointed out that she'd done the same for him once, and that the humiliation would motivate her to heal faster.

But now he'd seen all of her, yet she felt further away from him than ever. Every time she tried to bring up the shooting or the situation with Elonzo, he would change the subject or tell her there'd be time to talk later, after she regained her strength.

She came in from the porch, finding Charge on his laptop, sitting on the big, overstuffed couch.

"Any interesting news?" she asked.

"They buried your ex today. Small funeral. No one showed up."

Sad. Also, not a surprise. He'd been in bad shape when she saw him last. She wondered if he'd been given a true taste of the misery he'd inflicted on his victims before his demise.

"Well, I hope he's enjoying hell. He won't be missed." She sat next to Charge, carefully lowering herself.

"Still sore?" he asked.

"It feels tight more than anything. Like if I breathe too hard, something might split open."

"It won't, but you need a few more months until you can start up your morning runs."

"I think I'm done with those. Might take up yoga or Zumba instead."

"Sounds fun." He went back to his laptop.

She reached over and closed it. "Charge, you can't keep avoiding me forever. We need to talk."

"Yes, I can avoid you forever because you're dead. Remember?"

"Don't be cute. Doesn't work for you."

His intense gray eyes met hers.

"Why didn't you tell me that the people now backing the Heroin King are the same ones who backed suite forty-five?" she asked.

"It was irrelevant."

"Not when we were trying to stop him and there wasn't a chance in hell of ever doing it."

"That is not true." He pushed his fingers through his thick dark hair. "I still have allies on the board, Emily."

"Justine."

He gave her a look, and she shrugged.

"I've decided to give her another chance," she explained. Really, she'd made peace with her past. Charge? Not so much. He'd betrayed her big time. "And these allies are planning what?"

"Emil—I mean, Justine, none of this concerns you anymore. You're out. Just like you wanted."

"Don't play games, Charge. No one leaves."

"They think you're dead. You can have a fresh start and a new life."

"And you?" she asked.

"I'm in this 'til the end."

She wanted to roll her eyes. "What's the objective? Because if you take out Elonzo, they'll just replace him. And don't tell me it's not my concern. My life will never be the same after this. Neither will I." Her very DNA had been altered.

"My plan is to break their business into pieces and then slowly dismantle them, piece by piece. Death by a thousand cuts."

"How would you manage that?"

"Cause chaos and disruption. Plant distrust among the various leaders," he said. "After they begin picking sides, we pick them off."

She took it in, knowing this was likely a half truth.

They sat in silence for a long, awkward moment.

"Did he really ask you to marry him?" Charge blurted out.

"Yes. A business arrangement."

"Would you have gone through with it?"

"I wouldn't have had a choice if I wanted to live another day." Just like Elonzo had said. That was the game. You play one hand at a time, and you play to win. The prize, however, is just another round.

"Then it's a good thing I got to you when I did."

She turned to face him. "Why shoot me, Charge? Why lock me up? Why turn on me when I failed to kill Roberts? Why won't you ever be able to trust me?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I really want to know why the most powerful narco in the world trusted me enough to allow me in the same house with his daughters, to introduce me to his family, and to learn the inner workings of his organization when all he had to go on was my profile. Maybe he didn't give me the keys to his kingdom or pledge his undying allegiance, but he trusted me more than you ever have. Why, Charge? Why all the lies and games when I have been nothing but loyal to you?" She shook her head with frustration. "I mean, as big a monster as Elonzo is, at least he never said he loved me so he could blindside me. He was honest about everything." Including the fact he would kill her in a heartbeat if she fucked with him or jeopardized his family's safety.

Charge looked down at his hand, the one that still had a bandage. "Broken bones take a long time to heal," he said. "But trust takes longer."

"I never broke your trust."

"No, you haven't. But I've been in this too long," he said. "I've witnessed sons kill their fathers. Fathers rape their daughters. Priests, teachers, bankers, and the ice-cream man betray the very people who trust them. I've watched husbands beat their wives as some kind of deranged stress relief. I have executed some of the most violent, disgusting human beings on the planet, but not before learning everything about them to ensure their deaths were warranted."

She swallowed hard, knowing that comment about husbands was for her.

He continued, "All the while, families are being slaughtered along the border, kids barely in high school are dropping dead from poison, and the rich and powerful who make money from it all just look the other way. I am no longer capable of trust, Justine. I've seen the most sacred of trusts broken over and over again." He exhaled with a sorrowful woosh. "It's my lack of trust that makes me good at what I do. I expect every person involved in every job I do to fuck it up, stab me in the back, or just be plain sloppy. When everything goes fine, which it often does, I'm relieved, but I never—not for one second—believe that the people around me wouldn't sell me out or put a bullet in my head for the right price."

She slid her hand over his. In the saddest, weirdest way, she admired him for everything he'd just said. Instead of throwing himself a pity party, he'd turned his cynical view of the world into an advantage.

He added, "Still, I never thought you would fail me, Justine."

"Fail you?"

"When you didn't kill Roberts, I was furious. Not at you, but because I'd let my guard down when it counted most. I said to myself that there is no way Emily won't complete this job. She is the one person who always pulls through. When you didn't, I had no backup."

"Charge, why ask me to kill her at all?"

"After your identity was exposed, she stood to cash in if you were delivered safely to the Heroin King. I knew she'd attempt to break you out, and I wanted to keep you away from the cartel."

He could've just told her that.

He added, "I was close to getting something into place to free you myself, but then you were transferred, and I wasn't ready. I had to start over, figure out a new plan."

"I wouldn't have gone along with it anyway. Elonzo sent in a man named Hunter Collins, who said he worked for you. I turned him down."

"He used to work for suite forty-five. He left when Elonzo was making his move to take the border. He was probably next in line for Sampson if you turned down the role."

"How did you know they offered it to me?"

"Just a guess. Why else would they jump through hoops to take you alive? You have just enough experience to look legit, and you're dependable. They want people like you."

Justine inhaled, letting it all sink in. So Charge knew way more than he'd ever let on. "Elonzo said all the operators are dead or on the run."

"Yes. But we've been here before. This isn't even close to over."

She nodded, biting down on her lip. "So what's the plan for me?"

"You? I need to come up with some cash. Once I do, and you're feeling strong enough, you disappear. I have a town picked out in Alaska. New identity waiting, too."

She gave him a look. "Or…"

"Or what?" he said.

"Or we could leave together. Start over."

He frowned.

"That's what I thought." She looked away, unsure why she'd even opened her mouth. He'd never run. Wasn't in his DNA.

"Justine…" he grumbled, as if asking her to be reasonable.

"Charge."

"Justine…"

"Fine. I'll leave and disappear, but only if you tell me honestly. Do you, or did you, ever love me, or was that just another lie?"

He exhaled. "It was the truth. Despite the hole in your chest."

"Prove it."

"How?" he asked.

Good question. How could a man like him, one who'd lied a thousand times, convince her that she wasn't a fool for caring about him? That she wasn't a complete idiot for wanting to trust everything he was saying right now?

Why does it even matter? At the end of the day, this thing between them was over. Still, she knew in her heart she'd never be able to let it go. Not until she had the truth. Was there ever something more, or was he playing her?

Her eyes floated down to his groin. Maybe his lips could lie, but could his body?

"Justine, no."

"Then you're lying. You feel nothing for me," she said.

"I do."

"Then show me."

He shook his head. "It won't change anything."

"Maybe not, but at least I'll walk away knowing if you told the truth for once."

He slowly stood and held out his hand. She took it and got to her feet, gazing into those killer gray eyes.