Sixty-Seven

Ben hung up the phone and stood, making the trip to the bathroom doorway to watch Val, knelt over the toilet, puking up the last of whatever Church had given her.

Church was a woman. Ain’t that a kick in the ass.

Val rocked back on her heels, face white and clammy. “Did you talk to her? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s unicorns and lollipops,” he said, doing his best to squelch his impatience.

“You don’t have to be such a—” She turned toward the bowl to make another deposit.

“You’re right. I’m an asshole. Sorry,” he said, cutting her off. She was an idiot but then again, so was he for not catching on sooner. He waited for her to finish puking before he started peppering her with questions again. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Val shook her head, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth. “I don’t know.” She shook her head, looking up at him. “Standing in line, waiting for coffee. I was taking Lucy to the park after her four-month checkup but …” Tears flooded her eyes.

“You don’t actually remember being at the park,” he finished for her. Whatever Church had used on her had planted a big black fucking hole smack dab in the middle of her memory.

Clever girl.

“Try not to worry about it right now,” he said, turning on his heel. Once he was in the hallway, he checked on the kid. He was still in the rocker, humming quietly to the baby.

“Ona goloden.” She’s hungry. He said it quietly, his small pale hand patting a comforting rhythm on Lucy’s back.

“Khorosho. Ya seychas vernus’.” Okay. I’ll be right back

He turned and took the back stairs fast, the soles of his boots gripping to the floor firmly on the landing. He pulled his cell and dialed the number, listening to it ring while he opened upper cabinets to grab a bottle.

“Hello, Benjamin.”

“I want my plane back.” He filled the bottle with purified water from the gallon jug that sat next to the can of formula on the counter. “FSS has a whole goddamned fleet of planes and you decide to use mine to commit a kidnapping?”

“Kidnapping? Hardly. Ms. Vaughn has been in my employ for over a year now, Benjamin,” his father said in a distracted tone. “It’s time for her to earn her keep.”

“And by earn her keep you mean die violently.” Ben measured three scoops of powder into the bottle before fitting the collared nipple in place. Screwing it shut, he could feel the ache in his hand, the stiffness in his fingers. He studied the scar that covered the back of it. “Why does this all feel so familiar to me, Dad?”

“Because you can’t let the past go, Benjamin.”

It was a low blow, and he felt every bit of it. “I’ll let it go when you’re dead.”

His father sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said as if he’d just revealed that he still believed in Santa Claus. “As soon as Michael completes the task I’ve set him, he’ll be moving on to deal with the Reyes situation. I assure you, she’s completely safe until then.”

Task. What the hell had his father forced Michael into? Instead of asking, he let it go. If his father wanted him to know, he would. Asking wouldn’t change a thing. “Let me help her,” he said, plugging the hole in the nipple with his pointer before giving the bottle a good shake. “Put me on a plane. I can be there within—”

“Stop trying to save everyone. The role of hero is one you are ill-equipped for,” his father said before hanging up on him.

Ben chewed on that and what it might mean while he climbed the stairs to the nursery. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, Alex repositioned Lucy in his arms before reaching for the bottle. He could hear Val retching and imagined her bent over the toilet, trying to get rid of whatever Courtney hit her with.

“Yavlyayetsya li ona budet v poryadke?” Is she going to be okay?

Ben nodded while he handed the bottle over. “Da, s ney vse budet prosto otlichno.” Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.

He could lie in eight different languages. His father would be so proud.