Page 38 of Secrets

He turns to me head on, his eyes taking on an empathic curve I immediately flag as bullshit. “We can give him to you, cariño. On a silver fucking platter. All you gotta do is say the word and make a little promise.”

A flame ignites in my belly. A year ago, it would be because everything I’ve been working to get, dragging myself through the muck and blood to reach, has suddenly been dropped right at my fucking doorstep. But it’s not. Now it’s from anger. Humiliation. The way he’s come and laid out how easy it is for me to be swayed—no, controlled and manipulated—forces me to realize I’m on a goddamn leash of my own design.

An array of my fucked-upness swirls around my mind, thoughts and actions I’ve been all too willing to give into burrowing in my stomach. Still, still, to stop now would mean it’d be all for nothing. That I did all that, and for what? For him to win. For me to look like an idiot who has wasted years of her life all for him to still get away with being the worst person ever?

I fix my lips to ask what promise this man would need but am cut off by my uncle who can seemingly sense my fragile walls beginning to crumble.

“We’ll pass?—”

“Let’s stop pretending you have a choice.” His eyes flash to me and then back to Agent James. “Unless of course you’re prepared to let Goldilocks go to prison with me.”

I wince, already knowing that if the broker is making the threat, they have more than enough evidence to see it through. For the first time ever, I actually wish I would have listened to my uncle’s scolding when he said everything I was doing would catch up with me. The fact that it’s landed me here, in a fucking blackmail situation has got to be the biggest, and most embarrassing “I told ya so” of my entire life.

Not only that but it’s at a serious cost. It’s so much bigger than me now, and to neglect that in the form of heartbroken revenge…well, not even I’m that petty.

“We know you have a location. All we need you to do is stay away.” The man continues, confident he’s got us by the throat. “Show up, and the deal’s off. Simple.”

My uncle’s posture becomes rigid at my side while my blood immediately runs cold. No one knew we had a location except the four people in that meeting.

Which means—before I can even process the rest of my thought, he adds a final note.

“And for our side of the deal, Boss wanted you to know that the glass of the vial you’re chasing is a dead end. It’s what’s inside that y’all need to be looking at. He also said you’ll find she’s responsible for a lot of those bodies you’ve been finding.”

There are seventeen days remaining. I presume now would be the time to seriously contemplate how I might kill the agent, but each time I sit down to plan or even consider my various options, the image of her bright blue eyes gives me pause.

They remind me so much of the sky…

“Wait. And this one is how much?” I’m careful not to touch when I point to the…pretty sure she called it a variegated fenestrated leaf.

Elena smirks, the barely there curve of her lips doing ridiculous things to my soul. “For this maturity, a thousand.”

“Holy shit.” I blow out a breath and take in the plant again. It’s pretty—big, wide fan-like leaves with splashes of white—and taller than me, but a grand for a house plant is astronomical.

She shrugs, tossing a pair of scratchy microfiber gloves to me. “Some people spend a fortune on trading cards, others, expensive bags. But the wisest of them, plants.”

“Those things are investments. They have a higher return. You also don’t have to worry about the upkeep and them dying on you.” I slip the gloves on, trying to imagine how I would feel after spending my right kidney for a damn houseplant only to have it shrivel up into a crispy brown twig the next week.

Elena tips her head indifferently. “All investments must be taken care of to a certain degree. Whether a protective sleeve for said card, or the purse routinely waxed and polished. Plants, on the other hand, give us something in return when we take care of it. They are proven to decrease stress, improve mood and air quality, and boost productivity. I doubt someone’s limited edition shoes with crumbling soles from nonuse can do that.”

“I see your point,” I agree, taking a bottle from her outstretched hand and spraying the leaves of a plant she’s named Larry. It looks a lot like a piece of swiss cheese, though admittedly, pretty cool. In fact, a lot of Elena’s plants are cool-looking. They’re unique and from my limited understanding, some are hella rare. Knowing how much time, dedication, and research she puts in to take care of them gives me an entirely different perspective of her. A softer one.

It’s strange, yet relieving, to see such an endearing side of her. It’s realizing she isn’t completely impenetrable and can feel for something else. Even though that something else is incapable of hurting her back. Smart of her, really. Bet she’s never done anything even remotely close to stupid in the name of love, or heartbreak, risking other people’s lives because of it…

“Additionally,” Elena snatches my attention as her eyes dip from the plant in front of her to me. There’s something so intense and sincere threaded in them that it causes goosebumps to spread over my arms and temporarily forget about the weight on my shoulders. “There’s a great satisfaction that comes with protecting and caring for something that would otherwise be dead without it.”

My lips part to respond but instead, the weight returns, this time heavier. Her words force my thoughts to rove over the past few days and how fucked the agency is right now, all because of me.

For so long I was gunning for one person at the expense ofeverythingwithout a care in the world. I was willing to sacrifice it all just so I could come out on top and scream a big fuck you to everyone who told me it was pointless. And now, now that he’s being handed to me on a silver platter by ignoring another evil…There’s no triumph in it. No wonderful celebration or feelings of pride or elation. Instead, I feel like shit.

Like what I’ve actually been doing for the past two years is not only chasing my tail but being a childish brat who was so hell bent on not moving on that I inadvertently helped a different breed of asshole get even bigger.

Not only that, but on a more personal level, I was stopping myself from being able to develop any other relationship. I used him as an excuse to tell myself they all end the same and that there’s no point in even trying. To just have fun and not bother trying to see anyone else past what they show me.

Until her. This stunning woman in front of me who was the first person to ever make me even consider that maybe, just maybe I should move on. Become obsessed with healing instead of trying to feed the constant and insatiable hunger of needless revenge. To be seen, and in return try again.

Could it be the impact of a new budding relationship that everyone experiences? Sure. I’m not oblivious to that. But also, why the fuck not give it try? A real one. Without worrying about the future and instead focus on the here and now. Why not latch on to the powerful ass things she makes me feel and explore it? See where it leads, and stop digging holes that are getting harder to fill.

It’s because I believe this isn't just some side quest and have finally woken up from the sharp slap of my consciences that I’ve found myself in Elena’s shop, dusting the leaves of her plants with a concoction of neem oil and peppermint soap, loving every second I’m in her presence.

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