Page 37 of The Billionaire's Wife

“They do. I’m reasonably confident they don’t have anyone in my organization, but nothing is ever a hundred percent.”

“Especially if your plants keep getting identified.” Tristan shifted, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe coming to you was a mistake after all.”

I started. Those were not words I’d expected to hear from Tristan. Ever. He was Mr. Straight-and-Narrow. Now he was having second thoughts? He couldn’t have done that yesterday? Or the day before?

“We’re here now.” I put my hand on Tristan’s arm.

Tristan turned to look at me. “We are. But we can leave. Figure it out on our own.”

“You can.” The lack of inflection in the Special Agent’s voice was a dead giveaway of what he thought of our chances.

I shifted my attention back to Special Agent Orbison. “But?”

“But it then becomes how long, how far, and how fast you can run.” He shrugged and leaned back in his desk chair, looking for all the world like a man discussing something innocuous. “Is that what you want for the rest of your life?”

I heard the underlying implication that it wouldn’t be a long rest of my life. I sighed. Here I was, right back at the decision point Tristan had put me in. Or I guess it was me who put me here when I hadn’t turned down the job that seemed too good to be true.

“You can’t guarantee that isn’t what she ends up with anyway.” Tristan scowled. “You’re just asking her to potentially make that life even shorter.”

“What were you hoping I’d offer here?” Special Agent Orbison reached for the pen resting on his desk and began to flip it between his fingers. “Some kind of magical get out of jail free card?”

I flinched.

“No.” Tristan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Although, ha, that would be great. I guess I was hoping you’d take the information and find a way to keep her safe until you were able to get the Ortegas handled. But without even knowing the information she has, you’re saying it won’t help. So I don’t think there’s anything more for us to do here.”

“Tristan.” I reached out and grabbed his sleeve again as he started to stand.

“Faith. There’s got to be a better way. Honestly? We can go live on an island. They won’t be able to get to you and if they get close, sharks can dispose of bodies pretty well, I’m told.”

I shook my head and stayed seated. “No. That’s not the way. You were right all along. It’s time to fix this. If the information I have isn’t enough, then I can go back and get more.”

“How? You ran and hid. They’re going to see straight through you if you go back skipping and whistling a happy tune.”

“No one is recommending skipping. Or whistling.” Special Agent Orbison lifted his eyebrows and nodded toward Tristan’s seat. “They’d have to think they caught her.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tristan planted his hands on his hips. “What if they decide she’s too big a liability and kill her? Do you have any way to know they won’t do that?”

“Tristan.” I reached out and grabbed his hand, then gave it a hard tug. “Sit down. Of course he can’t promise safety. No one can. Not even you.”

Grudgingly, Tristan perched on the edge of his seat. “You understand we came here for help, right? Not for her to volunteer as some kind of tribute?”

Special Agent Orbison’s lips twitched, but he nodded. “I realize that. I also realize there’s not a lot we can do in any sort of permanent way without more information. From the inside. Information that Faith seems uniquely suited to acquire.”

I didn’t like that it made sense. Tristan seemed to think that I was excited about the prospect of recklessly throwing myself back into association with the Ortegas. There wasn’t anything further from the truth. But also, now that the idea that I could be free—really free—had taken root? I wanted that. Even if it meant doing something risky. “I’m in.”

“Faith.” Tristan frowned at me. He searched my face and something in my expression must have conveyed that I was serious, because he sighed. “How do I help?”

Special Agent Orbison cocked his head to the side and studied Tristan. “You want to help?”

“I want to keep Faith safe.” Tristan shrugged. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

I took a quick glance at Tristan as his words sank into my heart. I didn’t deserve him. I never had. I certainly didn’t now. The difference between me now and fourteen years ago? Today I wished there was some way that I could.

“Hmm.” Special Agent Orbison drummed his fingers on his desk a moment, then abruptly stood. “I’ll be right back. Talk amongst yourselves.”

I waited until he’d left the room before I turned in my seat. “You don’t need to do this. Just go home. Live your life.”

Tristan shook his head. “Until you’re safe, I’m with you.”

---