Chapter Twenty-Two

Weights dangled from Brenden’s drowning heart as he exited the airport and eased into the back seat of the Bentley awaiting him. Basking in the luxuries of being a Jasper had become a rarity ever since he was fresh out of West Point and responsible enough to decline invitations to state functions, charity galas, and everything else associated with the old guard clout of his last name. For once in a long while he would take advantage of the blue blood running through his veins and flaunt his familial connections, power, and money if it meant being the captain of his soul.

“Sir, Miss Joan said you needed these.” The old white-haired, pale-skinned man held a set of door keys over the front seat.

“Thanks, Marvin.” Brenden claimed the keys. “Make Whitehall our first stop, please.”

“And your mother says if your trip to your grandmother’s estate has anything to do with Miss Paige, then you should know she left the main house around noon to catch a flight for a conference she’s speaking at.”

Brenden didn’t think his next breath would come. Paige had rehearsed her speech for the conference in front of him a million times. When his breath finally returned, he glanced down at the Q8. Half past three. The day was more than a third done. He issued a string of directions to the man who had driven him to school as a child then rested his head on the seat.

“I need you to step on it, Marvin. There’s much to be done with little time.”

A whole five hours later, a full moon illuminated the evening sky. Marvin cut the engine as Brenden stood at the edge of a walkway leading to a cream stucco house with red Spanish tile roofing and a cobalt door. He dragged in a breath before swallowing his shame, and then started along the path of flagstone nestled between fragrant red roses. His finger hovered over the doorbell.

He wasn’t certain of what Bellamy knew. She and Paige were like sisters, so it was possible she had heard all the ugly details. He slammed his eyes shut, attempting to chase away the image of Paige’s frightened face as she fought to free herself from his hold.

Once he was composed, he pressed the doorbell. As the old-fashioned chime echoed, a smile popped onto his face. The familiar bark he heard from the other side lifted the dread he had associated with this stop.

Before Bellamy could get the door open, Raja’s little body squeezed through the small crack. Brenden crouched down, welcoming the pup as she jumped at him. Her fast wagging tail, accelerated sniffing, and puppy cuddles deposited a few ounces of happiness back into his heart. It was obvious the little chocolate Lab missed him as much as he missed her.

“I didn’t know you guys were home.” Bellamy bit back her smile watching Raja go on hind legs and nose Brenden.

“We aren’t.” He ordered Raja to stay, then stood. “I took leave. I need to see her, Bellamy. Where is Paige?”

“I don’t think so.” Bellamy turned away, leaving the door open.

Brenden hesitated, then stepped inside to rustic charm, but the fresh scent of lavender and vanilla did nothing to calm his frustrations. He cussed himself for leaving his best tracker deep in the North Dakota wilderness to continue training thirty new boots. This was the last time he would find himself relying on someone else to provide the location for the love of his life. If Paige took him back, the promise of not tracking her would have to be voided.

“I need to find Paige.”

“Then you need to be man enough to quit keeping her in the dark. I know you can’t tell her everything, but shit, tell her something.”

Unexpectedly, he chuckled. “You’re so perfect for that shit-talkin’ knucklehead I call my brother.” Bellamy folded her arms, rolling her eyes. “Will you please tell me where she is? I’m already aware it’s a conference.”

“Haven’t decided yet. You fucked up, Brenden.” A bold elevator scan traveled over him as Bellamy contemplated her options. Never before had this awkward silence existed between them. “Paige and I have been friends since we were five. I’ve never seen her so happy than when she was with you. And in the same breath, I’ve not ever seen her sadder than she’s been the last week or so.”

Brenden said nothing. He saw the woman’s deliberation and was afraid to say something and then get nothing.

“She’s at the HigherEd Conference Brown University is hosting in Providence.” Bellamy walked to her briefcase and retrieved a pamphlet. “Paige is a presenter this year. You know she’s pretty awesome and very well respected in the realm of academia. This research she’s presenting on Art Therapy and Academic Affairs will solidify her success.”

Bellamy sighed then looked to a tail-wagging Raja before handing the brochure over to him. “Promise me you’ll wait until after she presents tomorrow morning. This is a big deal for her.”

“Promise.” Brenden smacked a kiss on her cheek. “Could you keep this between us?” Bellamy nodded before he dropped a few rubs on Raja’s head, then jetted out the front door, running to the waiting car.

Brenden relayed Stinson Airfield as his final destination for the evening to Marvin while clutching onto the hope blooming within his heart. He relaxed into the leather seat. All the hoops and hurdles he had endured today wouldn’t be in vain.

Soon, he would be holding his love. She would know how much she meant to him and how determined he was to honor his responsibility of being a father to their child. No way would he leave her or his legacy to fend for themselves. He had to make sure they were taken care of—just in case. The future he secured for them ensured as much. He simply needed Paige to agree.

His focus fell from the woman of his dreams and shifted to the dimly lit dirt road he traveled along. His legs bumped together and his body shook from the way the tires cut into the gravel until they came to a stop. Tariq, his ex-Black 2131 operative who still assisted his team with sensitive intel as a private military services contractor, emerged out of nowhere into the headlights. Brenden scratched his head as he popped the door handle. This visit was unexpected and clearly important, considering how hard Tariq worked to ensure he could help stabilize and bring peace to a part of the world where he still had familial ties.

“Stay in the car, Marvin.” He climbed out and met Tariq a little way from the vehicle. “You didn’t tell me you’d be here when I called about the plane.”

“Didn’t have a secure line.” They exchanged nods of understanding. “Two things: Redacted docs from the CIA file with Jacob Henderson have been purged. Turns out he’s no longer in custody. The shitbag cut a deal then dropped off the grid. Underground sources placed him here, in Tampa, on December thirty-first. The trail goes cold again after that.”

“Shit. I knew I wasn’t wrong; I’d know his stink anywhere. There’s no way I’d miss those cheap-ass, hand-rolled cigarettes he smoked day and night. Send the intel to Luke. What’s the other?”

Tariq retrieved a phone from his pocket and held it to Brenden’s face. “This motherfucker has a hard-on for you.” Brenden’s jaw twitched at a candid of Richard. “His influence within the defense world has opened a few doors, and now he’s got a contractor of mine running queries. Says you took something that belongs to him and he wants it back.”

“Not happening,” Brenden said, baring his teeth.

“The contractor he made contact with is ex–Black Smoke, remains loyal to our pledge. Right now, Richard Lowell is on a wild-goose chase. Gotta be honest, Jas, I don’t like it. If some douche winger comes for one, he comes for all. That’s what makes the Black Smoke strong.”

“The son of a bitch is nursing a sore wound. Give the bastard some rope—we need to know his angle. I don’t want to be caught off guard.” Brenden’s hand extended, then froze before meeting Tariq’s.

His mind went back to the compound where they had found Fajheed, and then to his interrogation of the weapons smuggler. He recalled Holder’s report that contained pictures of old beat-up crates branded with Lowell Defense.

“What is it, Jas?”

“Someone is supplying these terrorists with military grade weapons. Find out what, if any, losses Lowell Defense has reported in the last year. A host of their weapons crates were on that extremist compound, and now I’m wondering if it’s not a coincidence.”

The two men clenched a secret handshake. Tariq faded into the night while Brenden retrieved his luggage. Before proceeding to the jet, he stopped at Marvin’s window.

“Thanks, Marvin. Here are the keys to Whitehall. Tell Mother thank you, and that I got what I needed from Grandmother’s.”

“Certainly, sir,” the old man said as Brenden began taking steps to the plane. “Best of luck with Miss Paige; she’s a charming young lady.”