Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (74 page)

“No, Mom, it’s not that.” Although I was starting to doubt the power of my pretty pink panties, now that Denton had been able to easily resist the photos I sent him earlier. “I had a question about Dad.”

“Okay,” Mom replied, more softly this time. She always did her best to answer my questions, but it was never easy.  

“When he needed the kidney transplant, Grandma and Grandad both wanted to be donors, didn’t they? I mean, they went through all the tests and everything.”

“Yeah, of course. They would have both done anything to save him. You always do for your kids.”

“But they weren’t a match?”

This time Mom paused before answering. “No.”

“That’s odd, isn’t it? Parents are usually a match for their kids.”

“I think so, yes, but…” She trailed off as if she’d lost her train of thought.

“But... “  

“I don’t want you to think ill of your grandmother, but, well I’ve always wondered whether perhaps your grandfather wasn’t really your dad’s father. That would explain why he wasn’t a match. Plus, it’s not as if they looked much alike.”

That was true enough. Dad didn’t look anything like his father, but not all kids did look like their parents. You couldn’t read too much into it.

“Grandma always did seem the free-spirited type,” I admitted.  

“That’s one way of putting it.”  

Mom hadn’t had the strongest relationship with her mother-in-law while she’d been alive, but they’d always been civil to each other while she was alive.  

“That wouldn’t explain why Grandma wasn’t a match for Dad,” I said. “I doubt she faked giving birth.”  

“No, I suppose not. I don’t know. I don’t think it’s worth worrying about now, dear. They both did the tests, and I was there when the doctor said they didn’t match. They would have done all they could to save your father. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Mom. I’d better get back to this meal.”

“Good luck, darling. Be safe.”

“I think I can cook a meal without injuring myself.”

“I was referring to what happens after the meal.”

I couldn’t see her, but I’m pretty sure she winked as she said it.  

“Night, Mom.”  

Before I put the phone down, I checked my emails to see if Denton had been in touch. He hadn’t emailed my personal account--personal, as in, heavily monitored by the FBI--but we often used the work account to communicate. A few staff in the IT department might know we were sleeping together, but that was better than having all my messages read by Lois.

Denton hadn’t emailed me, but as his PA, I had access to all of his emails as well.  

Just before delaying dinner, he’d received a cryptic email flagged as urgent. You didn’t have to be an FBI agent to work out the code.

I knew why Denton was late for dinner.  

I was going to kill him. That is, if Roddy hadn’t got there first.

I’d fucked up. 

Again.

The second I’d received the email about Roddy, I’d left the office and jumped in my car, before driving well in excess of the speed limit all the way to his house out of town. 

I’d arrived in less than an hour. The second I stepped out of the car, I’d entered something resembling a trance. I didn’t have control of my own body anymore. It was like I’d given instructions to a robot and now the robot was going to carry them out. I just happened to be looking through its eyes.

As I walked up the driveway towards the house, I didn’t felt any of the emotions I’d expected to feel at this stage. I wasn’t excited or nervous. I wasn’t anxious, and I definitely wasn’t scared. 

I was just a man on a mission. A mission that, once completed, would mark the end of the worst chapter of my entire life and hopefully the beginning of the best chapter. That was, if Chloe could ever forgive me. 

She had to. I’d make her understand what I’d done. I’d beg for forgiveness until she let me back into her life. But right now, I had a job to do.

I’d been so intent on getting into the house that I hadn’t even bothered to do a sweep for security. I got lucky. A guard--armed--appeared from around the corner, but I was able to duck behind a bush just before he turned to look in my direction.

The guard kept walking around the front of the house. He had a casual gait, almost as if he were just out for an evening stroll with his AK-47 to burn off some calories after dinner. 

I waited for ten minutes to monitor the patrols, but there were only two men, and they walked so slowly that getting into the house would be easy. There might be more men inside, but given how laid back they appeared, I fancied my chances. 

I didn’t even need to go in the front door. One of the upper windows was open and I would easily be able to climb up there by getting on the lower window, then going across to the porch over the door, and then up through the window. Piece of cake.

This was going to be easy. In hindsight, that should have sounded some alarm bells, but I was too focused on killing Roddy to pay any attention.

It was a trap, and I walked straight into it.

I clambered in through the window into a dark room. I’d assumed it was empty, but I heard movement in the far corner. The second my foot touched the floor, two men stood up and pointed guns at me. 

I’d have been dead if I hadn’t got my foot caught in the curtains and tripped over. The men fired into an empty space, but it took them a while to notice they had missed their target. In that time, I managed to scramble over and disarm one of them. 

I smashed his head against the wall, knocking him out cold, and then grabbed his gun before firing two bullets into the other guy. 

I think I left him alive, although I couldn’t say for certain. He didn’t get a shot off at me as I left, but then most people who’d been shot were in no position to shoot back. Life was not like the movies in that respect.

Roddy wasn’t here, so there was no point searching the house. He wouldn’t put himself at risk by being in the same house as an attempt on my life.

I ran back to the car and drove straight to my place to get cleaned up. I couldn’t get changed without Chloe knowing I’d lied about where I was, but if there were any specks of blood on me I’d need to get them cleaned up.

As I was strolling quickly down the hall towards my apartment, I sent Chloe a quick message to let her know I’d be there soon. 

When I looked up from my phone I saw Chloe standing outside my apartment. 

She looked pissed.

-*-

“Chloe. What are you doing here?” 

“Waiting for you,” she replied. “Open the door.”

This couldn’t be good. She looked mad. Madder than she would be if I had just been a few hours late for dinner. 

I opened the door and let her in, while quickly checking myself out in the mirror by the door. There didn’t appear to be any visible blood, so that was something. I might still be able to keep my whereabouts a secret.

“You went to Barton’s place and killed him,” Chloe yelled.

Perhaps not.

I couldn’t lie about where I’d been. She knew. 

“I went there to talk to him. That’s all. And he wasn’t there anyway.” 

“No. You went there to kill him. Don’t lie to me.”

Before I could dig myself any deeper, Chloe stepped forward and wrapped her arm around my waist. For one sweet moment, I thought she was going to hug me and we would be done arguing. No such luck. 

Her hand went straight to the gun strapped to the back of my belt. 

“Do you always take a gun with you when you go to talk?”

“Chloe, I can explain.”

“There’s no need. I understand perfectly well what’s going on here. I thought… I thought you cared about me. I thought you felt something. God, I sound so fucking naive.”

“I do care about you. You know I do.”

“Just not enough to do the one thing I asked. Was it really that big a request? I was asking you not to murder someone. It’s hardly unreasonable.”

“He’s not just ‘someone,’ Chloe. He’s fucking Roddy Barton. He deserves to die.”

“That’s not your choice to make. But you made the choice anyway. I hope you’re happy with the outcome.”

I reached out to grab her arm, but she saw me coming and deflected my arm with surprising ease. She must have had self-defense classes. When would I learn to stop underestimating her?

Chloe fled my apartment and made it clear that I shouldn’t follow her. 

Now I had the worst of both worlds. Roddy Barton was still alive, and Chloe was mad at me anyway. At least if I’d killed Roddy I would be able to take some consolation from Chloe not speaking to me.

But even that wouldn’t be enough. Chloe was right; I’d made my choice and it was the wrong one. Even killing Roddy wouldn’t compensate for seeing the look of pure vitriol on Chloe’s face when she looked at me. 

She’d hate me forever if I killed Roddy in cold blood. I wanted him dead, but for the first time, I realized it wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth losing Chloe over. 

I might be too late, but I had to try. 

I wasn’t about to give Chloe up without a fight.

Was I being a hypocrite?

Probably. I’d yelled at Denton for not doing the one thing I asked of him, but who was I to make requests? 

I was the one who’d been spying on him for three weeks. I’d probably be pulled off the case soon. I hardly recorded any of my conversations with Denton, and the ones I did send across were bland and uneventful. 

Lois would know I spent the night at his place recently. The fact that she hadn’t even tried to talk to me about it suggested it couldn’t have come as less of a surprise. 

I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to be off this case and away from Denton. Away from Chicago. Away from everything that reminded me of Denton. I wouldn’t forget him in a hurry, but I had to start trying to put him in my past. 

That would be a lot easier if he wasn’t banging at my door and yelling for me to let him in. He must have taken all of thirty minutes to cool off and think about it, before coming round here and making a scene.

“Let me in, Chloe. We need to talk.” 

I had plenty I wanted to say to him, but I’d left his apartment for a reason. If I’d stayed any longer I would have burst into tears, and I didn’t want him to see me like that.