Dark Deceptions (37 page)

“Is he going to be all right?”

“His vitals are good.” The man nodded. “And the bullet doesn’t appear to have hit any major organs. I’d say Mr. Brennon is
a lucky man.”

She sucked in a breath, wondering how long she’d been holding it. “You hear that, Nash? You’re going to be all right.”

“That’s not what he said, angel,” Nash whispered, grimacing as the medic gave him a shot for pain. “He said I was a lucky
man. And he’s right. I’ve got you and I’ve got Adam. So I can promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded as the helicopter lurched into the air, Devil’s Horn growing smaller and smaller as they moved up into the sky.

The mission was over.

But life—with Nash—had only just begun.

M
om, can I have some more ice cream? Dad said to ask you.” Adam skidded to a stop in front of her, chocolate ice cream smeared
across his face.

“Don’t you think maybe you’ve had enough for one day?” Annie asked, shooting a glance over at Nash, who was in the middle
of an animated discussion with Jason and Avery.

Nash’s wound had proved to be less frightening than it had first appeared. He’d lost a lot of blood, but the medic had been
right. No vital organs had been hit. And now, except for a rather angry scar, he was fully recovered.

Nash claimed he owed it all to Annie. Her shot throwing off Chin-Mae. But Annie wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had been her prayers.
Or maybe it just hadn’t been his time. Either way they’d been given a second chance and she was determined not to waste it.

“You can never have enough ice cream,” Adam was saying, looking longingly over at the ice cream maker.

They were all gathered in Avery’s backyard. It was an all-American picnic. Burgers, hot dogs, chips and guacamole. Beer and
margaritas for the adults. Cola and ice cream—lots of ice cream—for Adam.

“Just don’t make yourself sick,” she cautioned as he ran off to refill his bowl.

Drake dropped down into the chair next to hers. “He seems happy.”

It had been two months since the kidnapping, and all things considered Adam was doing all right. There were still nightmares.
And he hated being parted from either of them. But Lara said that eventually it would all pass, fading into memory. Annie
prayed that her new friend was right.

“He’s doing okay,” she said. “And I think a lot of that has to do with Nash. The two of them are inseparable.” She watched
as Adam grabbed his now-overflowing bowl of ice cream and ran over to his father. Nash hoisted Adam into his lap and opened
his mouth for a bite, then grinned over at Annie.

“I think you sell yourself short, Annie,” Drake said, his tone turning serious. “You raised a great kid. And you’ve made it
easy for Nash to find his way with Adam. The three of you belong together.”

She looked down at the ring on her finger. “I still can’t get used to the idea. I’ve been on my own so long. And I never would
have believed Nash and I’d have a second chance like this. It’s like a fairytale, and I don’t believe in that kind of stuff.”

“Me either.” Drake shook his head. “But watching you and Nash, well, a guy could change his mind.”

“Careful, Drake,” Tyler said as she handed him a beer, “a little more talk like that and I’ll think you’ve turned into a romantic.”

“Not a chance,” he said, pushing out of his chair. “Hey, Adam, you want to play catch?”

Adam jumped off his father’s lap and grabbed his glove, running out into the yard after Drake.

“I think he’s a lot more of a softie than he lets on,” Tyler said. “But don’t tell him I said so.” She smiled and wandered
over to where Hannah and Emmett were trying to convince Lara to get into the pool.

Annie closed her eyes, letting the noise of the party drift around her. Her life had changed so much. And yet not at all.
She’d left Nash to try to find a normal life, but it was only in finding him again that she’d accomplished her goal. And in
doing so, she’d come full circle.

Avery and his higher-ups had worked to make sure her name was cleared of any wrongdoing. DNA evidence found on a cigarette
butt at the scene had ultimately tied Dominico’s shooter to Chin-Mae. But in an effort at diplomacy, the Kims’ real part in
the conspiracy had been covered up by Langley, the assassination of Dominico attributed to a radical student gone off the
deep end.

The jammed gun and the severed rope were still a mystery. The idea that someone in their own organization was working against
them was a bitter pill to swallow. But Annie and Nash had learned the hard way that trust could be misplaced. So they’d been
working with Avery to find the source. To figure out who would want to sabotage A-Tac. Every puzzle had a solution, and eventually,
Annie knew, they’d figure it out.

And in the meantime, the world ticked on, the balance upheld—for now.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Nash said, bending down to kiss her neck. She shivered with delight and wondered if it would ever
get old having him there with her all the time.

“I was just thinking how happy I am.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, pulling her up into his arms. “I do aim to please, Mrs. Brennon.”

“And you’ll get no complaints from me, sir.” She smiled up at him.

“Any chance you’re going to put Avery out of his misery?” he asked, shooting a knowing look in his friend’s direction. Avery
had been after her to join the team. He insisted they needed a sharpshooter.

“Not quite yet. You know I’d do anything for Avery. Which means helping out any time he needs me.”

“On a mission?”

“You talking about something in particular?”

“I might be.” He grinned. “But unless you’re part of the team I’m afraid the information’s classified. Let’s just say there’s
a certain insurgent involved.”

“You’re playing dirty. But I don’t want to commit full-time. I’m still enjoying being your wife and Adam’s mother. Is that
so bad?”

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes full of love. “I think it’s fabulous—for Adam and me. But I know you. And I think maybe
it’s time you think about getting back in the game. You’re good. And the world’s full of people like Kim.”

“You know, his son was a piece of work, but I’m not sure Kim Sun was really all that bad.”

“Are you kidding?” Nash asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “He kidnapped our son.”

“Yes, but I don’t believe he really wanted to kill him. Just me. And that I can understand.” She looked out as Adam jumped
for a ball, grinning as the ball hit his mitt. “At the end of the day, we’d do anything for our kids.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that what he did was wrong.”

“No. It doesn’t. But it does make you stop and remember that there are two sides to every story.” She looked up into his eyes,
seeing the whole world.

“I love you, Annie Brennon,” he whispered. “With all my heart.”

And standing there, in the warm New York sun, content in her husband’s arms, Annie realized that she’d been wrong—there was
such a thing as happily ever after. And she’d found it. Here. Now. At Sunderland. With Adam and Nash.

San Mateo Prison, Serrania Del Baudo, Colombia

M
adeline Reynard squinted in the bright light. After three days of total darkness, the dappled sunlight hurt her eyes. She
flinched as the guard shoved her forward, losing her balance and careening forward into the exercise yard.

“I’ve got you,” Andrés said, his voice raspy, his English heavily accented as he steadied her. “I’ve been worried.”

“They put me in solitary,” Madeline whispered.

Andrés shook his head in disgust. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Madeline nodded. “It’s getting easier.” This was the third time she’d been relegated to the dank, windowless cell
in the bowels of the prison. “I just try to think of somewhere else and let my mind carry me away. It doesn’t always work,
but it helps to keep me calm. And besides, it’s not as if I haven’t had practice.” She’d spent a good portion of her childhood
locked in a closet only slightly smaller than the solitary cell. Her father had clearly believed the adage “out of sight,
out of mind.” But the experience had not been without value. If Madeline could survive living with Frank Reynard, she could
survive anything. Even San Mateo.

A place for political prisoners, the prison lacked creature comforts. In actual point of fact, it lacked most everything.
Which meant that days loomed long, the only bright spot the minutes spent here, under the canopy of trees.

“It’s best if you find a way to separate yourself from the reality here,” Andrés agreed. He nodded toward the people scattered
about the yard. It was nearly empty, this hour relegated to women and the infirm, Andrés falling into the latter category.

She’d met him on her second day in the yard. At first, his matted hair and filthy clothes had been off-putting. In all honesty,
he was the kind of person she’d have ignored had she passed him on the street back home. But she wasn’t in Louisiana anymore.
And after almost a week in this hellhole, she’d been desperate for human contact. Granted, theirs was an odd friendship. But
there was no way she could have survived life here without him.

Her Spanish was limited to schoolgirl verbs and useless nouns, although that didn’t matter when she was alone in her cell,
or being leered at by the guards. It didn’t take a vocabulary to interpret their catcalls.

Madeline closed her eyes, shutting out the small, barren exercise yard, its occupants wretched in their filth.

With hope almost nonexistent, she’d stopped counting the days, settling instead into a life lived moment to moment. At first
she’d demanded contact with U.S. authorities. But her pleas had fallen on deaf ears, the only valuable commodity here cold
hard cash. Which was unfortunate when one considered that she had none.

“Are you sure they didn’t hurt you?” her friend asked, his voice colored with worry.

“I told you I’m fine,” she reiterated as they walked slowly across the yard, her muscles protesting the movement even as her
mind rejoiced in her newfound freedom. “I’m just a little stiff, that’s all.”

“You need to keep moving,” he said, his hand strong against her back. “It’s important to stay strong.”

“I know you’re right, but sometimes when I think about spending the rest of my life here, it doesn’t seem worth it.”

“You won’t be here forever,” he said, his tone soothing. “Someone will come for you.”

Madeline laughed, the sound harsh. “Believe me, that’s not going to happen. No one cares where I am. And even if they did,
they wouldn’t know where to begin looking. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming to Colombia.”

“Someone must have known.” Andrés frowned.

“No.” She shook her head. “There’s only me. But at least I have you.” They never talked about why they were here. As if there
were some unspoken rule.

“Yes, but I’m a marked man,” Andrés sighed. “My days are numbered.”

Madeline dipped her head, tears filling her eyes, the idea of losing her only friend beyond comprehension. She’d heard the
shots fired late at night. Men and women executed without benefit of due process. She was a long way from home, and her only
ally was about to be taken from her.

“The only reason I was allowed out here with you was that I was so sick. But I’m better now, and that means I will be returned
to my original cell. I overheard the guards,” he said. “I’m being moved back. Which means this is my last time in the yard
with you.”

“No.” She shook her head, panic mixing with dread. “Maybe you can pretend to be sick again. Something. Anything that might
keep you here—with me. I can’t manage without you.”

“Of course you can,” Andrés said. “You’re much stronger than you know.”

“Señor Barras?”
a guard called from the doorway, his machine gun held at the ready.
“Ven conmigo ahora.”

Madeline turned to the guard, then back to Andrés, heart pounding. “What does he want? I don’t understand what he’s saying.”

“He wants me to come with him.” Andrés shrugged. “I guess it’s time.”

“No. You can’t go. I can’t bear the thought of dealing with all of this on my own.” She waved at the yard, and the guards.

“But you will.” His smile was gentle, his teeth white against the dark growth of his beard. “Because you’re a survivor.”

Madeline frowned. “Clearly, you have more faith in me than I have in myself.”

The guard moved impatiently, his lips curled in a sneer.
“Apurate!”

“Uno momento,”
Andrés said, holding up a hand. “Here, I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and produced a grimy card. “Take
this. It may be of help to you.”

She took the card, the battered face of the Queen of Hearts staring up at her. “I don’t understand.”

“If you can get this to the American embassy, they’ll help you. No questions asked.”

“But it’s just a playing card.” She shook her head. “How can it possibly help me?”

“Trust me,” Andrés said, reaching over to close her fingers around the card. “And keep it safe.”

Madeline’s gaze locked on her friend’s. “Why not use it yourself?”

“Because it is too late for me. I have accepted my fate. And it gives me pleasure to think that perhaps I can be of some service
to you. No matter what you have done, you don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you,” she whispered, her voice fierce now. “Keep the card.”

“It is yours, my friend. I give it freely. Now I must go.” She hesitated, but he shook his head, waving a hand toward the
guard. “Use the card to find your way home, Madeline. And then forget this place ever existed.”

“I can’t do that,” she said. The playing card might be nothing more than the foolish imaginings of a feeble mind, but she
had no doubt that he believed what he was telling her. And so even if it was without power, it remained a gift of the heart.
“I’ll never forget any of this. Because if I did, that would mean forgetting you.”