Rendezvous (6 page)

“Two weeks ago we got word your mother was looking to settle a score. She tried contacting an old informant of ours looking to put a hit out on you. We intercepted the call, and she said it would take some time to get the money together and set up a meeting for a week from now. We’ll pick her up then and make sure she’s under maximum security. Cora saw your mother in the news and wanted to know that you’re safe, so I said I’d keep an eye on you. I wasn’t aware you already had eyes on you though,” he stated while looking over at Jacob.

I don’t know what to say. I feel like everything is crashing back down around me. I had finally accepted her death and here I am being told she’s alive and well. That the man, who was supposed to have killed her, is some kind of agent who helped save her life. Everything is overwhelming and I need space. I need fresh air to breathe. Turning back around, I click the safety and put the gun back in my bag, then rush away from them both.

I don’t even look at my surroundings as I get in my car and drive. I hate her. I hate Darla so fucking much. When is this bitch just going to die and stop ruining my fucking life? How many more people does she get to take away from me before some higher fucking power finally says enough? I can’t even think about Cora. The knowledge that she is alive, that she has been out there this whole time and never tried to let me know, is heart wrenching. I’d never fucking do that to her. So many fucking nights I cried myself to sleep because she was gone. For years I was plagued with the nightmares of her last phone call, imagining the hell she endured before he killed her. And now to hear it was all a fucking lie.

I can’t handle it. I can’t deal with this new information turning my life upside down. Pulling into my drive, I remember I left Sarah at the club.

S,

So sorry I took off on you like that. Something came up, it’s about Cora. I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I know more.

B

It’s a couple of hours later when I receive a text back from Sarah. Apparently in all of the commotion, she had to take off as well. I guess her appointment got moved up and she had to take a red eye out a few minutes after I walked away from her. I still feel like shit for ditching her, but at least I know she wasn’t sitting around wondering what the hell happened to me.

The next morning I did something I haven’t felt the need to do since moving here. Reaching under my bed, I pull out a small metal safe. Unlocking it, I run my fingers across the cool, comforting metal. Sure I carry a handgun, but this is one of my most prized possessions. An exactly replica of the 9mm Dagger Mercutio carried in the newer Romeo and Juliet movie. It’s probably not what a normal person would spend their money on, but it was the first thing I bought when I saved up enough from my royalties. I was obsessed with the movie. It has always been my go to movie when I needed an escape, so I thought it a fitting tribute to a movie that saved me from myself on more than one occasion.

I spend the next hour cleaning it inside and out, making sure everything is in perfect working order. I’ve only ever fired it a range, even though it’s licensed with a concealed weapons permit. I’ve never considered using it for any kind of protection, but the idea seems almost poetic now.

Once it’s all cleaned up, I place it back in its case, but leave it on my bed. I’m startled by a knock on my door. I don’t bother to check the peephole as I suspect its likely Jacob. When I open the door though, it’s Agent Oliver Betina standing there.

“May I come in?” he asks.

I’m a bit weary, but I open the door so he can pass through, and lead him into the living room. We both take a seat and I listen to a most unbelievable sequence of events.

“Bentley what do you know about your father?”

“Grant Celeste works in broadcasting for as long as I can remember, though he traveled a lot so I’m not sure what he really did for it. As far as his personal life, I suspect he despises me almost as much as my mother, though he never raised his hands to me, why?” I questioned.

“Not Grant, your real father.”

The look on my face must have conferred that I thought he was nuts.

“I see,” he stated while pulling out two pieces of paper. He handed me a photo of a man with a striking resemblance to myself, as well as what looks like a paternity test. “This is your real father, Marco Linzetti. He was a big time movie and TV producer from the 1980s to the early 2000s. He met your mother on a production set and she seduced him. She saw him as her step to stardom. He wasn’t the only one she was having an affair with. She was also sleeping with Grant. She devised a plan to get pregnant with Marco’s child, and convince him to leave his wife to have a family with her. Since he and his wife had tried for years to have children, he was desperate for an heir. Darla was under the impression that he was sterile though, so she would sleep with Grant within an hour of her relations with Marco. Once she got pregnant she tried to blackmail Marco into leaving his wife. She said she would destroy their marriage by publicly ousting their sordid affair. That she would leak the details of late night romps. She didn’t account for just how Marco loved his wife. He called her bluff and confessed everything to her. They worked through their differences and your mother was livid, especially after he had her blacklisted from any set he directed on.”

“So wait, you’re telling me my sister and I are this man’s children?”

“Yes and no, it’s a freak phenomenon. There were two eggs one fertilized by Marco and one by Grant. Though you were both conceived the same day, you weren’t conceived by the same man. But it wasn’t until you were two that Marco would find that out. He ran into Darla at a mall with you and your sister, and he knew immediately. He went to court to petition for custody. It turned out Marco’s wife was barren and since you are his only child, he wanted you with him. Your mother tried a few scare tactics, and even cut the brake lines on Marco’s car, though it was never proven. Wendy, Marco’s wife, was driving it that day and didn’t survive the accident. Marco was devastated, and to avoid her name being run through the media mud due to his transgression, he dropped the custody case.”

“I don’t understand. My mother hated me, why not just give up her rights to me?”

“She hates you because of him. Because you remind her of what she could never have. She despises Marco, and to hand over custody would have made him the happiest man on earth. If there is one thing I’m sure you know about your mother, she’ll do anything to make someone’s life miserable. She knew with Wendy gone and you stuck with her that it would destroy him. Within a month of the case being dropped, your parents moved you and your sister away. Marco kept tabs on you, though he could never intercede. He tried once, and you paid dearly for his interference. He couldn’t get involved without it causing you more harm,” he says as if he personally knows this to be a fact.

I have so many questions, but only one stands out in my mind at that moment. “That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it? You’re not here because of Cora; you’re here because of Marco. But why? Why now?” I ask.

“I did come here to let you know that Cora is safe as well, but yes I am here because of Marco. He had been receiving alarming letters regarding you lately and was concerned about your welfare, especially after your mother's escape. He had hired a private investigator to dig into her past to try and uncover anything that could get her locked away. Unfortunately he fell ill. The doctors think that his mind might be going, but I really don’t believe that’s the case. His doctor advised that he should create a power of attorney. I think he was hoping that your father would name him. However, since you’re his last living relative, he named you.”

“Wait, you’re telling me I’ve somehow inherited a grown man to take care of?”

“Not exactly. Last week your father went into cardiac arrest. It took several attempts to resuscitate him. He’s breathing on his own, but he hasn’t woken back up. He’s in a coma, though the doctors believe he will wake up at any moment. What I’m telling you is that you now own all of his properties, monies, shares in his company. That all belongs to you.”

“Brilliant,” I say before a thought occurs to me. “His home, does he still live in the same place he did when this all occurred, or at least still own it?”

“Yes?” he replies with a hint of question in his voice. “Why? If you’re planning to try and lure her out, it’s a dangerous idea. I told you he was receiving death threats for you?”

“I’m a big girl, I know what I’m doing. Does my mother know that he is in a coma?”

“Well it’s been all over the news, I’m sure if she has any access to a TV that she knows.”

“Perfect.” I reply while jumping up. “Is there anything that I need to do? Something I need to sign?”

Standing up, Oliver takes a folder out of the briefcase I didn’t see him carrying and hands it to me. “There are a few places you need to sign and initial.”

After signing the paperwork, I see him to the door and thank him for turning my entire reality upside down. At least now I understand why Darla hates me so fucking much. I’m the living reminder of everything she lost.

Before he gets to his car, I call out to him, “Oliver?” He turns back to look at me and I jog over to his car, I don’t want what I’m about to say to be overheard by any prying ears. “I think it would be for the best if you left town, like immediately. And I would really appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself. I’d rather certain people not learn what you just told me, especially the property.”

Nodding he gives me a small smile, “I understand, just be careful Bentley. She’s a dangerous woman. We’re going to try and hook her this time, but in case we don’t, you should be ready to protect yourself,” he finishes his statement as he gets into his car and pulls away.

I feel like lately all I do is make shitty decisions, but with Tristan’s cousin on my ass, I honestly feel like I have no choice. Going back into my bedroom I pack lightly, only grabbing the things I’ll need for this trip. I think it’s time I meet my real father and go back to where it all began. I don’t want to run anymore and if Darla knows he’s in a coma, then I expect she knows someone would seek me out, and I’m sure she knows me well enough to know I’d go there to see him at the very least. Besides why else would she have my death threats sent to him unless she already believes we’re in contact?

Stopping in the kitchen, I pull a piece of paper out of my notepad and jot a note down before grabbing my few bags and locking the door. I turn back to tape the paper to the frame, then toss my bags into the jeep, leaving my cabin and mustang behind.

Chapter 7

Jacob

I should have followed Bentley home last night. It must have been a lot to process to hear that Cora is still alive. That the man who she thought had murdered her sister is one of the good guys. He managed to turn everything she believed about the last seven years upside down. I can only imagine how the rest of her night went. Knowing her, I’m sure she stayed up dwelling on it until the morning.

Pulling into her drive, I head up to the door and catch the piece of paper on the frame. I figure it’s probably a fuck you note, but I get much more than I bargained for.

Jacob,

Since neither you nor Tristan understand the concept of backing off, I’ll make it easy for you. No point in knocking; I’m not here, and I probably won’t be back. Don’t try to find me. I’m not hiding. I’m not running. I’m waiting. I’m done living my life wondering when Darla is going to strike next. So this time I’m going someplace she will know exactly where to look. I’m going back where it all began. I need you to convince Tristan to let go. I’m not coming back, even if it means breaking his heart. I’ll be strong this once if it means keeping him alive. By next week, either Darla or I won’t be walking this earth anymore, so it’s for the best if you tell him to forget me. I know your little group doesn’t seem to understand what the fuck that means, so I’ll break it down for you. I DON’T WANT TO BE FOUND! I left Tristan for a reason. Make him see that. There is no future for us. There may not even be a future for me, and I’ll be damned if I endanger his life because he’s too fucking stubborn to leave well enough alone. So drop it. Stop looking and let me do what I need to do. This is my decision; this is my fight...not his...not anyone else’s. Mine alone, and I need it to stay that way so please don’t use whatever mojo bullshit you possess to hunt me down. I’m meant to be alone in this. ~B

Son of a bitch. Tristan is going to fucking kill me. How the hell could I have been so stupid? She’s in the fucking wind again and this time she’s heading straight for a goddamn tornado. I knew that shit last night would hit her hard, but I didn’t think she would run. Although I believe her, as I don’t think she’s running away this time. I think she plans to go head first into a Darla shit storm.

Tristan

We spent the night in a hotel and get a late start this morning though we’re only a few hours away from our destination. Getting back in the car, I can see the apprehension on Cage’s face. With a roll of my eyes, I look over at him, “What now?”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? I don’t mean the getting rid of Darla thing, I just mean the method. You’ve seen how this shit works, are you sure you really want to witness that again?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Are you sure it will be here?” I ask.

“My buddy will have the package here by Monday,” he replies sounding a bit weary.

“What exactly is bothering you about this Cage?” I ask, concerned with his sudden change of position.

“It’s not that I don’t think she deserves it, Tristan. It’s just a really ugly, painful way to die. Even if she isn’t alone, we can’t offer her any comfort. I get that you wouldn’t want to, but there is no going back if you do this. We can’t reverse it if you have second thoughts.”

“I don’t want to reverse it. I want to know that she’s gone. No mistakes...no fuckups...gone...dead. I don’t want there to ever be that fear looming over Bentley’s head that she might come back. This way I know she’s never coming back. You said so yourself...I do this, there is no backing out. I can’t physically abuse this bitch. I can’t hit her and torture her the way she did Bentley. I can’t become the monster she is, as I’d never be worthy of Bentley if she knew I was capable of that. This way she still feels that pain. It’s just not through assault.”

My phone chimes before Cage can reply to what I just said. Looking down, I click the incoming message from Jacob.

Pretty sure any sense of reality your girl had just snapped. You’ve got a week to figure this shit out. ~ Jacob

Now what the fuck happened? What happens in a week?
I text back to him.

Last night your girl raised a gun, cocked and loaded, at some dude's head with her finger on the trigger. Pretty sure if he had so much as twitched, she’d have blown his fucking brains out. Darla set a meet up for a week from now to arrange a new hit on Bentley. They are going to try and intercept her there. If she gets locked up, your girl is as good as dead. She’ll arrange the hit from jail and no one will catch it in time. ~Jacob

What fucking dude? What the fuck is going on? Shit! I’ll have Darla before a week, as I’ll be in the town in a couple of hours. Can you just keep her fucking safe until I handle this?

I’m fucking livid. What the fuck is Bentley doing with a gun, and where was Jacob? How the fuck is it that he can’t even keep one five foot nothing woman under control? At this rate, she’d be getting herself killed while he stands there and fucking watches. I’m flipping the fuck out as my phone beeped another time. I looked down, fully expecting him to tell me she’s shot herself or some shit.

Oh shit...yeah the dude. Umm...Bentley’s sister isn’t dead. Turns out mommy dearest decided to off both daughters. Cora’s out of the country living a cushy new life. About keeping Bentley safe, that might be a problem. She’s in the fucking wind again. Turns out whatever was said last night made her snap. She took off, said she’s ready to handle Darla, and she’s going back to where it all began. Any idea where I should start looking? ~Jacob

Motherfucker! You have got to be shitting me. I have no idea where it all began. Why the fuck would she run again? She was fucking safe with you there. What the hell does that mean? She’s ready to handle Darla? Fuck no! She isn’t ready to handle her. She’ll either get herself killed or destroy herself by doing something she can’t come back from. Bentley’s moral compass only points one way. She can’t handle having that over her head. Damnit!

I hit the send button and stew over the conversation I just had. Why the hell can’t anything just go the way I need it to? I really can’t believe this shit. Only I would have the fucking luck to fall for a girl with a death wish. Why can’t she just for once let someone fucking protect her without flipping the fuck out and taking off? Most girls would love to know they have someone who’d risk their life for them. Bentley...no...She’d rather see just how far she can stick her neck out there before someone tries to cut it the fuck off. Looking back down at my phone, Jacob confirms exactly what the fuck I’m afraid of.

She’s going somewhere Darla will know to look. Your girl’s playing for keeps, and if you don’t grab Darla and she goes for your girl, one of them is going to end up dead...that’s a guarantee. While I know Darla is psychotic, my money would be on Bentley. But are you willing to take that chance? ~Jacob

Fuck No! I’ll have that bitch at the cabin one way or another. The package won’t be here for another five days. So I’ll keep her tied up until it arrives. Find her Jacob. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid...please...

I’m not one to fucking beg. Hell, I rarely even ask nicely. But this shit...it’ll kill me. I thought I had five fucking days to get this bitch where I need her, or risk losing Bentley. Now I’ll have to lure her out there as quickly as possible. There’s no other fucking option; she can’t be allowed to go looking for Bentley. I have to get this bitch far away from where any law might stumble upon her. I start planning out how to get her in my head when Jacob chimes in one more time to let me know he’s still got my back.

I’ll find her. I just don’t know where to start looking. Let me know if you catch any leads as to where I should be heading. In the meantime, I’ll contact Zeke and see what he can pull up. Maybe I can track down the agent who came to see her last night. ~Jacob

I placed the phone back down and caught the questioning look on Cage’s face.

“What’s going on? You look like someone just ran your dog over,” he says.

“Bentley’s fucking gone again. Some suit showed up and told her Cora isn’t dead. Apparently Cora fell out of Darla’s good graces and she tried to have her killed. She got a new identity. They set the whole fucking thing up. It was all a plan to get her out of the country. Bentley has been living with some fucked up guilt shit for all of this time and it was all a fucking lie.”

“Holy shit, man! I mean...I guess I can understand the set up part, but why involve Bentley? Why would they let that shit hang over her head? Wasn’t the fact that she wasn’t there to help her part of the reason Darla went postal and tried to kill her?”

“Darla doesn’t exactly need a reason to try and kill Bentley, but yeah she blamed her. I don’t get it though. Bentley was supposed to be with Cora that night. She said her interview ran late and she never made it to the club.”

“What if it wasn’t just Cora they were setting this up for? Maybe Bentley was supposed to be taken also, but they couldn’t deviate from the plan and only grabbed Cora. Maybe Cora had arranged it so they would both be given new identities.”

“That makes sense. They were both in danger. Cora knew about Darla’s deadly obsession with Bentley, so yeah I could see her making arrangements for both of them. But why wouldn’t they just hold off until they could get them both?”

“My guess is they didn’t have a choice. If her life was in imminent danger and she needed to be moved right away, it’s possible they couldn’t chance doing it another time. Chances are had Bentley been with her, they both would be wherever, and Bentley as you know her wouldn’t exist.”

“Whatever...nothing to do about that now. There’s more though, he told her Darla is looking to put a new hit out on her. And if that’s not bad enough, Bentley took off… told him she’s going back to where it all began to wait for her,” I say the words, but my mind is still on what Cage said.

The weight of his words hit me hard. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like without having that little ball of rage occupying my every thought. Still, everything she has known the past seven years is a fucking lie. Well no, not everything. My love for her isn’t a fucking lie and she better damn well know that. Everything concerning Cora though, that shit, knowing the truth can’t be easy. I can’t blame Cora for her decision, but that doesn’t mean I’m not fucking pissed at how much it hurt Bentley.

His words cut my thoughts off as I listen, “You do realize that now we have no choice. Darla can’t get to Bentley and she can’t get locked up. We have to find her and get her into the mountains, and we have to do it quickly. We can’t fuck around, Tristan. There is a small window now. We don’t know when whoever will have eyes on her. So it needs to be done quickly and quietly. Once we have her at the cabin, I’ll help you secure her then I’ll go to the meeting place to pick the package up.”

I agree with his plan and go back over the details that were sent to me. Darla has been frequenting a bar with some male companion. I’ll either have to play it close to the ear and lure her away, or be more conventional. Talking it over with Cage, we decide it would be less risky to have her come to us. I know Darla watches my social network because Cage’s buddy has it rigged that every time she clicks on one of my links, he’s alerted. Right now, she checks it about half a dozen times a day for any slip ups. We decide to give her some bait and see if she bites. I post a message on each of my sites letting people know I’ll be off the grid for a couple weeks. I post that I’m taking Bentley up to the mountains for a romantic cabin holiday. I’m praying Bentley doesn’t see my message and do anything stupid like call me out on it. Although I doubt she’d say anything, I don’t want to take any chances. So I block her from seeing it wherever I can.

It’s another hour before we make it into the town. It’s not too big, so the diner and bar that Darla’s been hitting is easy to find. I don’t know what to expect of her companion though. There hasn’t been any word on whether he’s just some guy she’s fucking or if he’s hired help.

We decide to crash for a few hours since Darla is like a fucking vampire and only comes out at night. I called ahead to arrange two rooms so that if she does have eyes in this town, we’re seen the least amount possible. After grabbing our keys, we head up to our rooms and plan to meet up in four hours. Intel says she normally goes to the diner around 8:30 pm, so we’re going to head over and be there around 8:00. I want to already be seated and pretend to be engrossed in conversation when she gets there. I’ll keep my back to the door, so Cage will alert me when she arrives. I need her close enough to be able to overhear us. If she isn’t, then the plan won’t work. Of course the plan won’t work anyway unless she’s as eager as I hope she is. I think my mental exhaustion is catching up to me. As I play it over again in my head, a yawn escapes me and I lay my head on the pillow, closing my eyes.

Leaning against a tree outside the coffee shop, I watch her. I guess her new identity isn’t giving her any sense of peace, as she’s more fidgety than usual. When she gets up and walks towards the back of the shop to the bathrooms, I find my feet acting of their own accord.

I walk inside and head straight for her. She’s looking at one of the flyers scattered across the bulletin board that is posted outside the door. I don’t give her time to react as I slide my arms around her and pull her back against my chest. Her body doesn’t stiffen at my touch. It’s as if it recognizes me after all this time.