Robert
There are lies we tell ourselves and by telling them we make them truth.
Natalia joins me on the bench, sitting close enough that if I move but a bare inch, our thighs will touch. “I love this spot,” she says, her accented voice whispering over my skin.
Being showered and in clean clothing, sitting on her deck, feels a whole lot better than being dirty and climbing around in the destruction of my home. “Will you rebuild?” she asks about my house.
“If I live.” I turn and smile at her.
She shakes her head. “Come now, Robert. I know that Fernando is…”
“Young.” I finish for her.
“Yes,” she nods. “And mouthy.” Natalia gives a small shrug. “You used to be mouthy.”
“I learned the hard way how to hide my true intentions.” There is bitterness in my voice, but I do not regret the lessons that molded me.
“I think it is the only way to learn,” Natalia looks up at me. Is there a plea in her gaze? She knows I will not bend to my son as easily as he thinks. She’s told him as much…is she now hoping that I can teach him without killing him?
It’s a fine line.
“I did the best I could.” Natalia turns to the sea again. “He is a good man, really,” she smiles. “He reminds me of you—your confidence, intelligence, cunning. All the things I loved about you once.”
“Once?” I say. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” She doesn’t turn to look at me but her jaw clenches. I reach out and take her hand from where it rests in her lap and pull it to my chest. “Why, Natalia? Why didn’t you tell me?”
When she meets my gaze, there is fire in her eyes. “You left me to die.”
“I thought you were dead.” My voice is quiet, her hand still held to my heart.
“You used me to escape…”
“You were holding me prisoner.”
She laughs. “My reasons are clear.”
“Not to me.”
She pulls her hand free and stands. “I would have been beholden to you, Robert. You would have felt obliged to care for me, to absorb me into your world and to make it impossible for me to forge my own path in life.” Her eyes hold mine. “You are not a partner Robert, you are a predator.”
I stay seated, allowing her to feel taller than me—bigger. Stronger. “So instead you hid from me for the last two-and-a-half decades. Because this wasn’t just avoidance, Natalia.” I wave at the ship. “Our paths must have crossed countless times. You hid from me. You hid Fernando from me.”
“Yes,” she says it simply. “I did not wish for you to control me.”
I laugh, because it’s the same thing Sydney says to me. Will I ever tire of trying to control women who do not wish to be? What stroke of fate will teach me that lesson? Because obviously words are not enough.
“Why are you laughing?” Her voice is tight.
“Sorry,” I wave a hand. “I am. Truly sorry.” The mirth dies from my voice. “If I’d known you were alive, I would have come back for you.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
I meet her eyes, so dark and angry. “You doubt how I felt?”
She sneers. “You do not know what love is.”
“I loved you.” I link my fingers in my lap, holding them steady. “The pain of losing you changed me.” I clear my throat. “In many ways, it made me who I am.” I hold her gaze. “Losing you broke a part of me. And the sharp edges left behind allowed me to find the success I so desired.”
“Then thank me for hiding. If I’d revealed myself, what would have become of you?” There is disdain in her voice.
“Who knows what would have become of us—who knows how my ambitions in life might have changed?”
Natalia shakes her head. “You wouldn’t have changed.”
“I did. We all do.” I hold her eyes with mine, refusing to be the one who breaks the connection. I won’t turn my back on her again.
I won’t make the same mistake twice.
Natalia turns away, walking to the edge of the deck and holding the rail.
“How do you know Sydney Rye will go back to your house?” Natalia changes the subject.
I stay seated on the bench, watching Natalia’s hair blow in the wind. “I just do.” She can’t stay away from me as much as I can’t stay away from her. That’s why my plan to make her mine would have worked—and why this one will too.
“You’re so sure of yourself?” Natalia looks over her shoulder at me. “Whatever broke in you has served you well.”
I nod, agreeing again that I have fared well. That I have taken everything I wanted.
And that’s not going to change.
I smile at Natalia. “Don’t worry,” I say, my voice a deep and comforting baritone. “Everything will work out just fine.”
She doesn’t smile back, just raises one brow. “Yes,” she agrees. “It will.”
My escape that day must have broken something in her, too. “How did you survive?” I ask.
She does smile now. “I always had an escape plan, Robert. You should have trusted me.” Before I can ask any more details, the door opens and Fernando steps onto the deck. Natalia’s eyes light when they land on him. That is true love.
“Mother, Seraphina is looking for you.”
“Thank you.” She places a kiss on Fernando’s cheek before stepping inside…leaving me alone with my son.
I wait in silence—anger wafts off him, as pungent as the briny sea air. “My mother has forgiven you,” he says.
I glance at him. “Has she?” I stay seated, letting him be taller…believe he is bigger, stronger, wiser.
“She’s had my entire life time. I just learned you lived a few months ago.” His accent is not as strong as Natalia’s, and it’s different. Her voice holds the remnants of a childhood in the mountains, his the sophisticated lilt of an international education. He’s spoiled.
“And I’ve known of your existence for a day.”
His expression does not soften. “That’s no excuse.”
A smile slips across my lips. “You want me dead?”
Fernando shifts his weight from one foot to the other. A tell. But of what? His eyes meet mine, clashing blue and green. Anger. “I wanted you scared.”
He’s still a child.
I raise one brow. “You did not succeed.” There will be no trophies for trying hard in this relationship.
Fernando takes a step toward me and stops short. I don’t flinch. In a physical fight we are well matched—he has the strength and speed of youth, but I the skill and mental fortitude of experience. “I don’t want to fight you,” I say. “I think we can work together. Amy and Josh came to me some time ago asking for help with destroying Joyful Justice.”
“You refused them.”
“Yes. Like I said”—I wave a hand toward him—“I only just learned that you existed. I loved your mother very much.”
His face twists into a sneer. “You left her to die in the jungle.”
“She let me rot in a cage.” I shrug. “There is a lot that a cage can teach you. My point is that I do not want to be your enemy, Fernando.” I pause, as if gathering my thoughts. “I’d like us to begin to build a relationship.” A flicker in his eyes, just the hint of hope hiding behind those glittering jewels. “Let me tell you my plan, and then you can decide.”
He nods, and comes closer.
Yes, son, step into the trap…learn from the cage.
Mulberry
Frank lies on his side, front legs crossed, snoring like a steam engine at the foot of the bed. Nila, curled into a ball, rests with her back against the door, a low growl emanating from her chest every time someone passes by our hotel room.
Sydney left this morning and hasn’t returned. She did text that she planned to stop by Hugh and Santiago’s house—I’d like to see them too, but she didn’t invite me, and I’m desperately trying to follow Merl’s advice and not push.
Anita is out meeting with her press contacts, trying to change the narrative that Joyful Justice provided the means and inspiration for a mass shooting where innocent people died. I’ve got the TV on, flicking through the channels, doing fuck all about jack shit. The new story of my freaking life.
Nila stands up but doesn’t growl. Sydney must be back. I’ll wait for her to knock. Maybe she’s just headed into the adjoining room to take a shower, leaving me as her dog sitter until she’s ready—a knock at the door interrupts that bitter train of thought.
Nila gives a low woof of greeting and turns to look at me. What is taking you so long? Even dogs are judging me now, great.
Frank wakes up as I stand. He rolls over and flops onto the floor in a tangle of long legs and giant paws. Righting himself, Frank barks as if someone pushed him off the bed. “You did that to yourself,” I tell him as I open the door.
“Who did what to themselves?” Sydney asks, walking in with Blue by her side. She’s carrying two plastic gun cases.
“Frank is an idiot.”
She grins. “I love that about him.”
Nila and Frank both greet Sydney and Blue with unabashed enthusiasm. No one has ever been that excited to see me in my life.
My heart gives a quick thud—my child will be. Memories of meeting my father at the door when he got home from work flood my mind. His strong arms lifting me up, the scent of cigarettes and his cologne engulfing me…how my heart burst with love for him. I needed him.
“Thanks for watching them,” Sydney says.
I blink away the memories, the scent of my dad somehow lingering as I bring Sydney into focus. “Sure, they’re easy. How did it go?”
Sydney lets out a weary sigh. “Not great.” She sits on the bed, and Nila and Frank each lean against a leg. Blue pushes his head against my hand, and I rub his ears.
“Did you find Robert at his house?”
“Yes, but he didn’t tell me anything about the shooting.”
“What about the yacht?”
Sydney looks down at Frank. “Robert knows something, but he’s not sharing.” I hide a smug smile. She was wrong about him—he wouldn’t give her information like she’d hoped. “So I went to Hugh and Santiago's. They’re doing well.” Sydney glances at me and smiles.
“That’s good news.”
“I rested at their place for a while and tried calling Robert but he didn’t pick up, which is strange.”
“Is it?”
She drops her gaze again. “In the past he’s always answered my calls. Anyway, I went back to his house, and José was there.”
“Who’s José?”
“Robert’s chef—he runs the house.”
“That’s nice.” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
Sydney stands and paces to the window. “Not so nice for José. He was tied up with this note around his neck.” She reaches into the back pocket of her jeans and pulls out a folded piece of paper, holding it out to me.
“This was meant for Robert?” I ask after reading it.
“I’d guess so.”
“Robert cares about his chef enough to risk his life for him?” I ask, meeting Sydney’s gaze.
Her lips press together. “I don’t think so. I don’t know anyone Robert would risk his life for…”
“No,” I agree, holding out the paper. “I don’t think there is anybody he loves more than himself.”
Sydney takes back the note with one hand, the other touching her stomach. She turns to the window. A plane takes off, headlights cutting through the night and wing lights flashing. She turns to me. “I’m going to go at dawn.”
“Sydney,” I take a step toward her. “The note isn’t even for you. What makes you think they will give you the antidote?”
“I have to try.” Her eyes narrow. “I’m not going to just let him die.”
I shake my head. “Fine, let me go, then.”
“Anita already agreed to go with me; she can get me into the refugee center with one of her press contacts. Can you take the dogs again?”
“At least let me come with you.”
“We need someone here who knows where we went in case something goes wrong.”
“We can tell Dan.”
“I already spoke with him.” Sydney pauses, not making eye contact. “I don’t want to put anyone else at risk.”
“Please,” I step forward and take her hand. “Let me go instead of you.” She won’t meet my gaze, but she doesn’t say no either. “Please,” I say again.
She shakes her head. “I have to go.”
“Why?” The question comes out angrier than I wanted it to. Crap.
Sydney’s gray eyes flash with annoyance. “If Robert is there, I don’t want you two trying to kill each other.”
“Fine.” I grit my teeth and step back, giving her space. “Whatever you want.”
“Thank you. I’ll bring Nila and Frank by before I go.” She points to the gun cases on the bed. “Those are dart guns—I got them from Robert’s gun case. I’m not going to be able to take any weapons in with me, so I’ll leave them with you.”
“Fine,” I say again, refusing to look at her as she and the dogs leave.
I flop back onto the bed and start flipping through stations, but that doesn’t last long. Restless energy forces me onto my feet. I’m staring at the door that connects our rooms when my phone rings.
Robert Maxim wants to talk.