Fate Book Two (14 page)

“Let’s go into the kitchen, and I’ll fix you something to eat.” He opened the bedroom door and gestured for me to leave the room.

I glared as I passed.

“To your right,” he said.

I followed the short hallway, passed a small bathroom, and found a tiny living room slash kitchen. From the lack of…well, everything, I could tell he didn’t live here.

He pointed to the only furniture in the room—a small, square wooden table and two chairs. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He put on a kettle and pulled out two mugs from the cupboard along with a paper plate, Nutella, and crackers. “Sorry about the accommodations—and the cigar smell—but I needed something fast, and this was all I could get. It belonged to an old woman who just passed away.”

And she smoked cigars and ate meatballs. Healthy.

“It’s fine. And I’m not hungry so just talk.” I folded my arms and sat.

He turned around and leaned his well-muscled frame against the edge of the countertop. “I know you’re upset, but I had no choice but to do it this way. You backed me into a corner.”

“Just talk, Paolo.”

He stared at me, but didn’t speak. Clearly he was mulling over what to say.

“After everything you’ve done, I deserve the truth,” I pushed.

“It’s not that simple, Dakota—”

“If you ever loved me, even a little, you’ll tell me what was so damned important that it required breaking my heart, lying to me, making me think you were dead or kidnapped or God only knows what. And let me also remind you that I’m not the one who can’t be trusted. That person is you.”

He shook his head and blew out a small breath. “My brother has been buying bodies from all over the world and selling them to terrorists.”

Ew
.
“Well, jeez. That explains everything. I can go home now.”

“The deceased were infected with everything from Marburg to SARS.”

SARS I knew, but the other? “What’s Marburg?”

“A virus that makes Ebola look like a head cold. They also purchased fresh cadavers with smallpox and anthrax.”

He then went on to explain that since these pathogens were almost impossible to steal or buy on the black market, these terrorists were using the bodies to culture and mass-produce the diseases on their own.

“Holy Christ.” He didn’t have to explain what these bad people would do with their lovely stockpile of the world’s deadliest cooties. It was pretty obvious.

Suddenly, my giant cluster of a situation didn’t feel so important anymore.

“And,” he added, “because no one is going to pay attention to a few missing bodies from a small village in China or West Africa, we have no idea how long he’s been doing this. The only thing we know is that it can’t be long before the big party.” He made air quotes as he said “big party.”

“So why are you here?” I asked. Paolo’s specialty was gathering information and playing bodyguard every once in a while when my dad had someone special he needed kept alive.

“We found out about the deals six months ago, and frankly, everyone thought we would find where these bodies were ending up. But my brother did a good job; there were no traces once the bodies hit the airports. So our people continued surveillance on Felix and everyone else in the family who’s involved, hoping we’d get another shot or that someone in the family might reveal the buyers’ information.”

“And?”

“Felix didn’t know anything about the buyers—we heard him talking to my father about it a couple of times.”

“So you’re waiting for these insane people to call you and ask for another order of contaminated bodies?”

“Yes. And they did. Four months ago. It turns out they had a production issue with the anthrax, so they required another body. That’s why I left you. Our people needed someone who could make sure the next deal leaves a solid trail. I couldn’t say no.”

I blew out a long breath and ran my hands over my face. I understood why Paolo might feel compelled to help. I even understood why he was in the unique position to make sure their last shot was a good one. It wasn’t like there was anyone else on the planet that could step in for his brother.

“But why lie to me?” I asked.

“Your father and I discussed this carefully, and—”

“My father?” I almost lost it. “He was in on this the entire time?”

“Let me expl—”

“I knew it! I knew I couldn’t trust him.” I stood, determined to hop on the first plane to St. John and tell him I never wanted to see him again.

“Dakota, don’t blame him; he was only trying to do the right thing.”

“Obviously you’d say that because you’re just like him! A goddamned liar.” I headed for the door, but Paolo jumped in my way.

“You can’t leave.”

“Like hell I can’t,” I barked.

“You don’t understand. My father knows who you are.
They
are looking for you. And the fact that you showed up at my family’s house could call into question who I am. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Crap.
I hadn’t thought about that. “Are you sure?”

“They didn’t know I was working with your father, but someone might connect the dots. And I made it clear—years ago when I left—that I’d do everything I could to put them all in jail.”

I walked back over to the table and plunked down in the chair. “I screwed everything up, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he said remorsefully. “But we’re only days away from making our delivery to the buyers, so there’s no turning back. It will be our last chance to find out who the buyers are and where those bodies go. Just pray everything happens before my family figures out I’m not Felix—if they haven’t already.”

“How the hell were you fooling them to begin with?”

“My father spent so much time in jail, he hardly saw us. When he did, he got us confused all the time. As for my family, they also had a hard time telling us apart. Only my mother could.”

Of course, his mother was dead. Poor woman was gunned down in her own kitchen. In any case, Paolo’s information answered one question, but my head still spun with a thousand more.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Why keep up the charade?”

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But think about what would have happened if you knew who I was.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“Not voluntarily. But what if someone had gotten their hands on you? How long do you think you would’ve held up, Dakota? An hour? Two?”

I shrugged and looked at my feet.

“You’ve never been hooked up to a car battery or had your body beaten with a tire iron. It’s not pleasant, Dakota.”

“Neither have you,” I argued.

“No, thank God, but I’ve had training. I can hold up for a day or two—long enough to be rescued. I’d hope, anyway.”

Okay. You’re big and macho, and I’m not. Wow.
“What’s your point?”

“If they caught you, you would have talked, and I couldn’t afford to blow this. It’s more important than you or me.”

He’d made that abundantly clear. And, frankly, I couldn’t argue the point. On the other hand…

“Okay, but I just showed up a few days ago. You could’ve told me instead of leaving like that.” I would have been hurt, but I might have understood why he abandoned our relationship. I’d thought he’d been taken. I’d thought the worst. It almost broke me.

There was a coldness in his dark eyes, an utter lack of remorse. “Even with this fucking thing,” he flipped over his wrist and flashed his deliberately faded cobra tat, “and the month of training I had, watching a hundred hours of Felix’s gestures and memorizing his vocabulary, my chances of fooling anyone for more than a day were slim to none. I had no doubt I’d be dead within a week of switching places, so I thought it would be easier for you to move on if you thought I’d left you.”

“Paolo—”

He held out his hand to interrupt me. “It’s easier to forget someone you hate than someone taken from you. Trust me, I know.”

I knew he referred to his mother and ex-girlfriend. Both had been murdered, and both were tragic events that would haunt him until his final days.

He continued, “Then I got the message you’d written to me in your journal—the first one—but your father assured me you were moving on, and I thought I’d made the right choice. I’d protected you from this.”

The letter I’d written in my “fate book” told Paolo how much I needed him. I just couldn’t understand how he’d so easily believed my father. Did Paolo really think I’d get over him in a few weeks and find some other guy? I didn’t need to have twenty boyfriends to know how special our relationship had been or that he’d gotten so deep under my skin that he’d altered my DNA. He’d changed how I breathed, how I looked at the world, and how my heart beat. Then he’d left me, and I couldn’t let go.

He ran his hand through his short dark hair. “I thought you’d meet Felix, see what a disgusting pig he was, and go home.”

“I almost did, but…I don’t know.”

“I should’ve known I couldn’t fool you.”

“You confused the hell out of me, if that makes you feel any better. But is your brother really that horrible?”

“Worse, Dakota. He’s fucking insane. Drugs, hookers, murder. The man was born without any morals. He’d rape you, slit your throat, and then snort a line off of your ass for fun.”

What a gem.
“Where is he?”

“Somewhere safe. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Fair enough. But how did you keep up the charade if he was so wacko?”

“We had Felix arrested for drug charges and admitted to rehab for thirty days as part of his parole—completely made up, of course. But when he came out, the new Felix—less violent, but still a giant prick—came out. Until now, no one suspected.”

“And what about Nikki? Did she notice the, um…difference?” The moment I asked that question, I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to think about Paolo and Nikki sleeping together.

Paolo smiled at me. “She’s one of us. Nikki started dating Felix casually a few weeks before I took over. It was part of our plan.”

Oh wow.
Now that was taking one for the team. If Felix was as bad as Paolo said, dating him couldn’t have been at all fun. “How the hell did you recruit the shoe princess?”

Paolo looked a little uncomfortable. “Her sister was my girlfriend. The one who died because of me.”

Oh no
. Paolo had been tasked with keeping his ex-girlfriend safe—it was how he met her—but she’d somehow died. He blamed himself, and it was the reason Paolo resisted his feelings for me for so long. He was afraid that history would repeat itself.

“Paolo, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” I said, not knowing the details, yet knowing he was the sort of guy who believed that if he failed at something, it was his fault regardless of the circumstances.

Paolo shut off the kettle and poured hot water into the mugs, throwing in a few teabags. “She worked for a weapons manufacturer and had access to some information we needed. After she gave it, the owners of the company knew. It was my job to keep her safe until they were put away, but I gave in to letting her see her mom and Nikki.
They
were waiting.”

I couldn’t begin to imagine the guilt. He loved her, wanted to make her happy, and it was the wrong decision. But couldn’t he see that he wasn’t responsible? “Those people killed her, not you.”

He handed me a mug, and I set it down on the little table in front of me. This was not a tea moment. This was more like a Bob moment.

“If I hadn’t had feelings for her,” he said, “I wouldn’t have allowed her to go. I knew it was dangerous. Anyway, Nikki was more than happy to work with us after that. I guess she wanted to make a difference in some way.”

“So you’re not sleeping with her?” I asked.

“No.”

I felt a huge weight lift from my chest. I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying around so much jealousy and anger, but I had. “And she knows who I am?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Now I guess I understand why she was asking about you.”

“She wanted to see if you knew who I really was.” He placed his hand on his waist and blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Dammit, Dakota. Why didn’t you just…leave?”

“Why didn’t you
just
tell me?”

“I already said why. You simply didn’t like the answer.”

“I would have left. I would have understood.”

He gave me a look.

“Come on,” I said. “I’m not happy—in fact, I’m heartbroken that you and my father would treat me like a child instead of telling me the truth.”

“That’s what you’re not getting,” he said curtly. “This was not simply about protecting you. It was about protecting everyone, which meant protecting this operation. Keeping you out of it, keeping you in the dark was safer for us, too. There are still a lot of people looking for you, Dakota. And now that we’re on the topic, I’m surprised you weren’t snagged already. What the hell were you thinking?”

We were back to this point again? Before we’d started this conversation, I felt hurt, angry, and confused. But now, hearing him berate me for behaving like a woman who’d had her heart stomped on, who believed her fiancé was using her to get to her father and cheating on her, well…now I was furious.

“This!” I stood and pointed my finger in his face. “This is the problem with you guys. You think things out like…
guys
! You thought you’d just show me a picture of my fiancé with another woman and that I’d crawl into a hole and die.”

“I never thought that,” he argued.

“Fine. But you didn’t expect me to demand answers and stand up for myself after you left me in that church. What the hell is the matter with you?”

Paolo looked at me, but didn’t have an answer.

“That’s what I thought. So you have no one to blame but yourselves! Oh, and by the way, the engagement is off! I want zero to do with you or my father once this is all over. Got it?”

Paolo looked at the floor, expressionless. “I know that.”

Oh wow.
What he really meant was he’d already expected it to be over. He’d left me four months ago. “You never intended to come back, even if you survived, did you?”

“No.”

Ouch.
I nodded.