TWENTY-TWO
I once was lost but now am found,
Was a slave, but now I’m free.
We never went to Barbados.
Chad had asked me, “Are we still taking an island trip?” and I’d replied, “Not today. Today, I want to gohome.”
He’d liked the sound of that.Home.
We would be going to Barbados alright, but that’s after our shit was in order. As it was, there was still too much to digest, too much to acclimatize to, too much to accept.
Rafail was down and—for the time being—I was free. The Organization would be claiming me when Org stepped down. Yeah, sure, I would be the Pinnacle, but that wouldn’t make me any less of a slave to it.
Chad had also relayed some awful news about Ricardo. My brother. He’d gone mad, being treated at a private facility. Watching his wife and unborn child get murdered in cold blood had done his head in. But I figured the trigger was in his undergoing such a horrific experience all over again. Imagine losing your family twice. Not just losing them, but witnessing their deaths from front row seats.
I demanded Chad take me to see him, so we’d stopped by before heading home.
Aside from the cast on his right leg, Ricardo was clean and fresh, in a massive customized suite Chad paid extra for. My brother saw us and knew us, but was a mute. He wouldn’t talk to us. Just stared off at nothing, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair situated in the corner of the room.
“When did this happen?” I’d asked Chad, my voice shaky, eyes burning. It ripped my heart to shreds seeing my brother like that.
“Two nights after Portola Valley,” he informed me. “Heard Vivian screaming in the middle of the night. Found him in the kitchen stabbing himself over and over in the bullet wound on his leg.”
“Jesus.”
Wrapping his arms around me, Chad kissed the top of my head. “He’s getting better, babe. He was a lot worse than this, believe me.”
“Come back to us, Ricardo,” I’d whispered to my brother. “I forgive you for everything and…I love you.”
“Welove you,” Chad corrected.
When we’d finally gotten home at sundown, Org was there waiting for us. InsideChad’s bulwark. A fortress no one was supposed to be able to get inside of. Immediately I remembered Chad telling me,“If Org wants me dead, I’m dead.”
How true that was. If Org could get inside that particular building, then there was obviously nowhere inaccessible to the man.
“My entrance could have been much easier and less damaging if you had given me a key like I asked, Shadreek,” Org said when we both stopped short at the sight of him sitting placidly at the table in the dining area, sipping a cup of tea and typing on a skinny laptop.
Vivian was seated at the other end of the table with her hands folded in her lap, complaisant, her eyes like saucers, her body rigid.
Interlacing his fingers with mine, Chad strode over to the table with me and signaled for Vivian to leave.
Vivian looked uncertain, confused, her eyes darting between Chad and Org, as though wondering whose order was the order to act on. When Org nodded slightly at her, she whooshed out a breath of relief and scurried off.
Easing down into the seat still warm from Vivian’s ass, Chad tugged me down on his lap, and I went easily, pressing close, wishing I could melt into him.
I swung my right arm around his neck and deadened my wrist so my hand would fall loosely onto his pectoral, right where I knew his birdcage was. I trailed my fingers back and forth over his plain white tee—he’d taken off the pilot shirt on our way home, remaining in just the under T-shirt, the navy blue uniform slacks, and shiny gentleman shoes. The man was so goddamn sexy it would be a crime not to acknowledge it. Death penalty to joke about it.
“You’re the last person I’d want to have my key, Org,” Chad said trenchantly.
“Ah…” Org hummed. He closed down his skinny laptop and folded his hands above it as he fixed his gaze on Chad. “But I should be the first.”
Chad snorted.
“A father should be welcomed in his son’s house, should he not?”
Probably as dumbfounded as I was, Chad just stared at the man.
