Page 43 of Coup De Grâce
“It’s not that I’m not grateful, and yes, I remember what friends are?—”
“Because it doesn’t seem like it. You disappeared just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “And you haven’t called. You haven’t written. You faked your death. Now, I’m no genius, but that definitely doesn’t sound like something a friend would do.”
Sighing, I focused on the road ahead. “If you’re going to bust my balls, why did you even bother to come?”
“For Eva,” he said, shooting me a pointed look. “You know, you did one hell of a job pushing her away, but clearly, not good enough. That woman has some brass balls on her.”
I clenched my fist on the steering wheel, not liking the way he was talking about her. “Mywifedoesn’t have brass balls.”
“Oh, so now she’s your wife?” he countered.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“Call me crazy, but I don’t want you to end up in a gulag.”
“They don’t have those anymore.”
“So I’ve been told,” he muttered. “The point is, you have a family at home, even if it does appear that you’ve forgotten about them.”
There wasn’t a chance in hell I could ever forget about them. Eva and my kids meant everything to me, and it was only because of how much I loved them that I knew I had to leave. Without them, the world didn’t exist, and I was beginning to feel that deep in my chest with every day that passed.
“How is she?”
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”
That didn’t answer a damn thing. “How did you even find me?”
When I turned to face him, he shot me a toothy grin that made my hackles rise. “Remember that time you were taken in place of Rafe?”
“Yeah,” I answered slowly.
“Well, it seems your wife likes you just a bit too much. She didn’t like the idea that she wouldn’t know where you were or ifit was really you. So, she had Rafe implant three trackers under the skin.”
I rolled my eyes on a sigh. “Fucking hell.”
“She’s known where you were all along, man. Did one hell of a job crying at your funeral, too. We didn’t suspect a thing.”
“I thought Fox would have told her, honestly.”
“That man tried, but he was rambling about mice talking to him and all sorts of shit. We just figured he was going crazy.”
“He already is. There’s no going anywhere.”
“So, did you do it?”
My gaze snapped to his in anger. “Are you fucking serious?”
His hands shot up defensively. “Hey, I’m not judging. I have no fucking clue what you’re doing.”
“No, I didn’t fucking kill President Codi.”
“But you did shoot Al-ahmar.”
When I didn’t answer, that was all the confirmation he needed. “So, what’s the plan?”
That was a good fucking question. Stay alive. Find out why the fuck I was set up. Figure out how my old man fit into all this. “The plan for now is to find someplace friendly to stay while I figure out what the fuck is going on.”
“Figured as much.”
