Page 33 of The Fortunate Ones
I traced a pattern into his skin with my thumb, trying to figure out a way to say this. “You can’t tell her, love. At least, not right away. This can’t be traced back to us. We’ll make sure he’staken care of and that his family will never want for anything, but we weren’t there, Wes. Neither was Everett.”
My poor man flinched as the implications hit him. He knew this, of course, it wouldn’t be the first time we were in this situation, but it didn’t make it any easier. He took a big swig of whiskey. “You’re right, but I fucking hate it. I think we can agree that the hit was done by a professional. What was even the point of killing him?” he asked rhetorically, but I nodded in agreement anyway. Ramirez had been taken out quickly and quietly. Diego hadn’t been notified of a breach in security. Absolutely a professional. “He could’ve avoided Ramirez entirely,” Wes continued. “There was no way a professional didn’t clock him for the citizen he was within seconds.”
“He knew things, babe. Had access to information he shouldn't have.” It would be enough for most to take him out, as sick as it was.
Still, the hit felt cold-blooded. Ramirez had been a balding man in his early sixties who hadn’t worked out since the eighties. He’d been kind and caring and brilliant at what he did. He didn’t have to step up, completely upending his life for a kid he had never met before, but he had. All because he’d promised his best friend since college while he’d bled out in his arms, according to Everett, who’d basically blurted out everything that had happened to him when Ramirez wasn’t holding him back. The man deserved better.
My eyes trailed back to Everett. Even though he was a year older than Matty, he looked so much younger. They both had been dealt a shit hand at life, but in completely different circumstances. Everett had been isolated from the world since he’d been a small child. First by his parents, who’d been trying to protect him, and then by his guardians, who’d exploited his brain for their own purposes. He had very few social skills to speak of; his only knowledge of the outside world was what hehad gotten on the run, first with the marshals and then with Ramirez.
Matty, on the other hand, had grown up in high society. His education had included a healthy serving of how to manipulate, maneuver, and scheme to be on top. It was something only I, among our little family, truly understood. The shit that went down at boarding schools was impossible to explain to those who hadn’t grown up that way. It was isolating and incredibly lonely, and both Matty and I knew how to mask our emotions, how to manipulate them and others to get what we wanted. That was shit we’d begun to learn before we’d left elementary school.
Like me, Matty had rejected most of that, but it wasn’t like you could unlearn how to maneuver bureaucracy until you were on top and everyone under you was begging for scraps. Matty had all the social training and cues that Everett didn’t and probably couldn’t ever grasp. He had internalized his trauma, especially in those first few weeks when he hadn’t been sure if he could trust us. I wasn’t sure if Everett was capable of that.
“Do you think it’s safe to bring him to the house?” Wes asked after a while.
It was the question that had been running through my mind for the last few hours. The kid had wells and wells of knowledge buried in his brain. We hadn’t even cracked the surface of the organizations that would be invested in shutting Everett up for good. We were talking mafia, cartels, gangs, CEOs, trafficking rings, and others I couldn’t even fathom. Ramirez had explained that Matty didn’t always grasp the importance of the information he had stored. There was a very real possibility he knew what we needed to finally bust the ring that hurt Matty wide open. But I was worried that bringing Everett into our home would be targeting us for a two-for-one special.
The bulk of the ring had been dismantled last year. The big players had gone to ground, and between us and the feds, we’dslowly been picking off the strays. It was more intact in Europe and Asia, but the North American syndicate was in shambles. From what we could gather, they were too busy picking up the pieces to worry about Matty. He wasn’t really worth their time. His bio dad was a concern, but even he’d seemed to back off.
Everett, though, would be persona non grata to them, and I was worried that it would put Matty back on their radar if they found out who Everett was with, which I would imagine would be easy if the bastard that had killed Ramirez had recognized either of us.
I realized I’d never answered Wes’s question. “Ideally, no. But I know none of us want to be separated, and Everett’s going to require ‘round-the-clock protection.”
Wes hummed. “We could put Leo’s team on it.” He didn’t sound too enthusiastic about it, and neither was I.
I trusted Leo and his team. It was why they ran security for my own home, but something about this kid compelled me to handle his protection myself. And considering that every single one of his security details had been attacked thus far, I didn’t feel right pawning that responsibility off, especially without discussing it with Leo first.
“I think he’d be safest in the estate. It’s pretty much impenetrable.”
“I agree. I also think it’ll be good for Everett to be around Matty and even Brooks. I know it’s a job, but the kid needs exposure to people closer to his age. He deserves a chance at a real life once this is over.” If it ever was. He’d probably always have a target on his back, even if we eliminated this current threat, but maybe he could live a semblance of a normal life one day.
“Yeah, okay. I agree. Let’s bring him back to the house. We’ll be able to protect him there, at least for now.”
We fell quiet, and I turned back to my tablet to continue researching the Crimson Rose. The feds had next to nothing on them, and until Everett, they had largely been believed to be a myth made up by the cartels, mafia bosses, and other gang leaders to take some of the pressure off them. The leader of the Colombian cartel’s mansion blew up? Oh, it was the Crimson Rose. Drug and weapons shipments gone missing, gang leaders killed? They always came with whispers of Crimson Rose’s involvement.
I’d had my suspicions that they were real for a while now, and the way certain people disappeared with no trace added to that. How could Bradley Fieldburg, Vladimir Andreev, Tanner Belding, and Slash, AKA Nancy Williams, all disappear without a trace without some extra help? Yes, they all had resources, but so did I, and they were like fucking ghosts. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure the Crimson Rose had had something to do with it. Especially since they’d been holding Everett, who was basically a walking computer, for fucking years.
I was so focused on my research that I lost track of time until Wes took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “Try to get some rest, darling. We haven’t gotten much sleep, and who knows what will happen once we land.”
I wanted to argue. There was so much work that needed to be done. Diego had sent over a report on everything he’d found out about Everett and I hadn’t even opened it yet. We needed to coordinate a plan. Not only would the country’s biggest nefarious group be looking for us, but likely also organizations that had the protection of a government on their side. I still hadn’t decided if I should reach out to my contact from the FBI, Bruce Lawson. As far as feds went, he wasn’t bad, but still. Could anyone be trusted?
Rough fingers on my cheek startled me out of my thoughts. Then Wes’s lips were pressed against mine. “Sleep, Luca. You’re no good to any of us if you can’t keep your eyes open.”
I nipped at Wes’s lip playfully before sinking back deeper into the kiss.
“I hate that you’re right. It’s hard to shut off my brain.”
“I know. When we get home, I’m sure there’s a whole group of us that would be willing to help you with that.” Heat flashed in Wes’s eyes, darkening them. He shot Everett a meaningful look. “Unfortunately, the most I can do now is offer you Advil PM.”
I shook my head. The flight wasn’t long enough, and I didn’t want to be drowsy. Instead, I pulled up the armrest between our chairs.
“Just hold me, Wes. That’s enough.”
Wes opened his arms, and I immediately settled into them. It was very rare for me to be the cuddlee and not the cuddler, so I was going to enjoy my moment.
Soon, the warmth of Wes’s embrace and the low hum of the plane were enough to have me drifting off to sleep.
Maverick, Skye, and Leo all met us at the small, private airstrip when we landed. While there had been no signs of being followed, we had to act like we had been.There was no way so many loose ends would be left untied.
