Page 121 of A Secret and a Lie
Aubrey sneers. “What do you want?”
“You’re going to leave Genevieve alone. Everything from the solicitation ring to the blackmail web will be pinned on Percy York, and it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch, considering that’s exactly what he’s doing anyway.”
“Or…” Aubrey prompts.
“Or,” I supply, my eyes fastened on Jackson. “I’ll tell the country about the one of the biggest scandals the FBI has ever been wrapped up in. You know, the story of the handler who left me to die in the warehouse after blowing my cover because he was taking money from the weapons dealers I was working with.”
The last part is an educated guess that Drake and I put together,but based on the way Jackson’s nostrils flare and knuckles turn white as his mouth remains shut, I think we nailed it.
“This is bullshit,” Jackson bites out. “Why would we go along with any of this? We could just kill you here and now.”
“You could, but that won’t stop everything else from happening. Even without us breathing, the information will still get out—allof the information, including the fact that you’re one of Genevieve’s clients. I’m sure that would be embarrassing for you and the FBI, so this is an easy choice for you since Percy will be dead either way. You’ll both keep your jobs, and the Bureau doesn’t end up the hot water it deserves to be in.”
Corinne is all set to leak my story to the press if I don’t call her on the hour. If Gen doesn’t check in, well, then she’s prepared to use the one-time code to access the secrets kept within the encrypted file, download them, and publish them for the world to see.
My story isn’t as salacious as Genevieve’s, but it’ll generate some headlines and enough traction to force these men to quit and possibly go to jail. That’s enough.
Jackson’s lip curls as if I disgust him, but the feeling is fucking mutual. He’s lucky I’m not blasting his corruption across the front page of every newspaper in America.He left me for dead.The fact that all I’m asking for is that Gen is left alone to conduct her business in peace is a gift he doesn’t deserve.
“And all we have to do is leave your wife alone?”
I nod, and Jackson rages, “Now, wait a minute—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Aubrey snaps, his head whipping toward my handler’s. “You’ve done enough.”
“I want to quit and leave witha glowing recommendation,” Drake pipes up. He’s been grumbling about getting out of the FBI since we found out about Jackson. I don’t blame him. I couldn’t work here knowing how deep the corruption runs.
It doesn’t hurt that the ATF has been recruiting him, but it’ll be easier to take a job with them if he’s got a recommendation from Aubrey himself.
“I’m not leaving without that journal,” I add.
“Done,” Aubrey asserts. “You can have what you want. Now get the fuck out.”
I nod, a smirk on my lips as a waterfall of delight and relief rushes through me. But this was the easiest part of this plan. Across town, Genevieve is facing a far bigger threat.
Please stay alive.
Genevieve
Ilet myself into the one-room apartment using the code I was sent, breathing in the stale, musty air. This place isn’t swanky, but then again, I didn’t expect it to be, not in this part of town. I never thought I’d be here again, on this street, in this area of the city, but I suppose it makes sense for things to end here since we’re only a block from where this all started.
Sprawling comfortably onto the old, stained black couch, I make myself comfortable. I can practicallyhearFord worrying about me. There’s nothing I can do to assuage him now. I have no choice but to pray that I was right about everything. The air conditioning cycles on, whirring to life right alongside the rattling nerves that I attempt to suppress.
I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, but there’s a piece of me that’s nervous, bordering on freaking the fuck out. But there was no way I was going to let anyone else fight my battle for me. This is my war to wage, win or lose.
I stare at the digital clock across the room, watching the numbers tick down far too slowly. I’ve run through every possible scenario of this meeting, and I’m confident that this will play out exactly how I planned.
With Ford and Drake busy with the FBI, there’s no one to rescue me, and I hope things are going smoothly for them. That’s all I have:hope. Ford can take care of himself, but if for some reason, things go wrong, he’s got Drake to back him up. Ford’s a soldier, a fighter, but I am, too. I might not be a Marine, but I’m no less deadly.
An eternity—which is really only three minutes—later, I hear the lock disengage, presumably with the same four-digit code I typed in, and watch as the door handle moves, internally bracing myself.
Ensuring my face is a mask of chilly indifference, I remark as the door opens then closes, leaving me alone with the enemy, relief settling into my veins. I knew I’d read him correctly. “Funny, I remember Bree being far prettier and a tad less hairy.”
“And I remember you being smarter than this.”
I smirk, inwardly rolling my eyes to the heavens, but this is exactly the confirmation that I read Percy York correctly. I was banking on Bree not being the one to show at the appointment I booked with her under my real name.
His hair is slicked back, his beady eyes alight, and I question the tactics he used to try to steal my entire business out from beneath me. He had to have threatened some serious bodily harm because there’s no way he’s smooth enough to talk my clientele and employees into working for him. Not when his personality is about as charming as a great white shark.
