"Dammit, Lina--"
"No." The word came out quick and firm and full of absolute conviction. "Please," I said. "My mind's made up. I know Kevin. I get him now. And he's vindictive. If I stay, he won't ever let up. You want to be safe for Ivy? You want everything you've given up to shut your operations down to actually matter? Then you have to let me do this."
He didn't say anything. He just looked at me with storm-gray eyes, so flooded with regret that I had to look away.
"I'm sorry," I said as I stood up. "I love you desperately. And that's why I have to go away."
It felt good to be back in California with my mom and my dad, but I missed Evan terribly. And every time the pain got to be too much, I just reminded myself that I'd had a reason for walking away. For Evan. For my parents. And even a little bit for me, because there was finally something that I could do for them, even if they weren't actually aware of the sacrifice I was making.
But I couldn't completely bury myself, and so I sucked up my courage, sat my parents down, and told them that I didn't want to work in Washington.
"I think it's fascinating," I said, "and I don't regret my degree or the years I spent or any of that. But it's not me."
"Then why--" my mother began, but my dad pressed his hand over hers, gently silencing her.
"I always thought politics was more your sister's fascination," he said. He spoke blandly, but I saw the comprehension in his face, and I think that may have been the first time I truly understood how well-suited for politics my father was.
"She loved everything about it," I agreed. "I like it. I think it's interesting. But I don't love it, Daddy. Not like you do. Not like Grace did."
He nodded slowly. "What do you love?"
"Art," I said, without hesitation.
He inclined his head. "I shouldn't have even had to ask that. I think you were born with a sketchpad."
"Too bad I can barely draw a stick figure."
"Nonsense," my mother said loyally. "You're very talented."
I laughed and hugged her. "I'm not," I said. "But I can see talent. I'd like to maybe manage a gallery someday. Or work in restoration. I don't know. To be honest, I'm not sure what all the options are. But I think I want to go back to school to find out." I wrinkled my nose as I held my breath, trying to gauge their reactions.
It was my mother who spoke first. "I'll talk to Candace in the morning--you remember Candace? She spent two years interning at the Louvre. If anyone knows the best schools to consider she will."
I tried to say something, but couldn't manage to talk with my throat full of tears. Instead, I just smiled like an idiot and looked at my father. He shook his head with mock sadness. "I'm going to owe some major favors on the Hill," he said. "Congressman Winslow will never find an aide as competent as you would have been."
I threw my arms around him and hugged him.
And for the first time in almost eight years, I felt like it was truly me with my parents, and not me channeling the ghost of my sister.
"Have you considered moving back to Chicago?" my mother asked me days later as we wandered some of La Jolla's galleries. "There are several good programs there, I believe."
"There are," I said. "But I don't think so. I'm not sure I want to move back to the same city that Kevin's in."
Her brows lifted. "That young agent that your father introduced you to?"
"Don't tell Daddy, but he's kind of a jerk."
"Is he? Or did you just meet someone else?"
I grimaced. "There was a guy," I said. "It didn't work out."
"Why not?" she asked, and I kicked myself for opening that door.
"A bunch of stuff."
"Do you want to tell me?"
I shook my head. "No."
We walked in silence for a while. "Did you love him?" she asked.
I almost lied, but I couldn't do that to Evan. Even if he was no longer in my life, I couldn't lie about the way I felt about him. "Yes," I said. "Yes, I love him."
She glanced at me sideways and I expected her to launch into some sort of maternal pep talk. Instead she said, "Your father wasn't the first man I loved."
"He wasn't? Who was?"
A whisper of a smile touched her lips. "It doesn't matter. But he was exciting and bold and he made me feel like anything was possible so long as I was with him."
"I know that feeling," I said. Evan was the rush I needed in my life, that extra something that made me feel alive. And, I knew now, I was the same for him. "Do you feel that way with Daddy?"
"I love your father very much, but it's tamer," she said. "It's more of a partnership. And there's nothing wrong with that, Angie. But if you can find the passion and the partnership--" She cut herself off with a wavering smile. "These are not the kinds of things mothers are supposed to talk about. But I want you to have everything good in the world."
"So why didn't you marry him? The first man, I mean."
"He didn't want me. Or, rather, he wouldn't have me."
"Why not?"
"He was involved in some things that skirted the law. He said that was no life for me."
I stopped, turning to look in a gallery window so she couldn't see my face. Jahn. That's why their pictures were in those albums without my dad. Because my dad very literally wasn't in the picture when those photos were taken.
"Did you agree?" I asked softly.
"I never let myself think about it," she said, though I didn't believe her. "He thought he was saving me. That he was making some grand sacrifice to protect me. But really he was just hurting us both. And I think he regretted walking away."
I felt hollow inside. "How do you know?"
"Things he said when I saw him years later." She waved the words away. "It doesn't matter. I'll never know for certain."
But I knew, I realized. That was why he'd kept those photos. And what was it he'd told me so many years ago? Sarah is special.
Yes, I thought, she is. And although I loved my dad desperately, I couldn't help but want to weep for my mother and my uncle, and the love they never truly got to share.
And I tried hard not to think about Evan, or the sacrifice I was making for him. A sacrifice that I was making without his consent. And one that I was starting to fear I would regret. But I still didn't know what choice I had. I couldn't leave him or my father to the wolves, and right then, with Kevin waiting so eagerly for any mistake, I was certain that those two men I loved would get eaten alive.
I made an effort to be more upbeat for the rest of our shopping trip, and when we returned home, laden with bags, we were both laughing about the horrible outfits we'd tried on at a local boutique.
"You should have bought the pink one," my mom said.
"Are you insane? I would have looked like a marshmallow Peep." I was about to counter that she should have bought the blue caftan-looking thing, but we'd reached the living room, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Evan was there. So was my dad and three men I didn't recognize, but who were wearing suits and looked very official.
"Um, hi. What's going on?"
"I had some business to conduct with your dad," Evan said, which made absolutely no sense to me. "But I think we're square now." He stood up and extended his hand. "Senator, it's been a pleasure."
He finished the goodbyes, then turned toward the door. "Angie, could I have a word?"
I saw the realization bloom on my mother's face, but now wasn't the time to confirm or deny. I followed him outside feeling lighter than I had in days--and at the same time angry that he'd come out here just when I was starting to get the pain under control. Because nothing had changed. There was still no possible future between us--not when my father's career hung in the balance--and seeing him only created fresh wounds.
"What the hell is going on here?" I demanded.
"It's done," he said. "The bullshit Mann Act threat--it's dead and buried."
I gaped at him. "How?"
"We cut a deal. Cole. Tyler. Me."
"A deal?" Fe
ar and disgust twisted in my stomach, all knotted up with disbelief. "So Kevin was right? You were really--"
"Hell no," he said. "Just the opposite, in fact. There's a group working out of California and Mexico that's doing the very thing that Kevin was accusing us of--luring girls in and forcing them into prostitution. We learned about it and have been running interference, bringing the girls into our clubs, giving them legitimate jobs. We're doing nothing illegal, at least not on that front. But we've pissed off the ring--Larry's one of their flunkies--and after you told me what Kevin said, I knew they must have threatened some of the girls into making false statements. So I came out here and met with your dad--he's been on a task force to shut this kind of thing down for a few years now. And in exchange for immunity against the bogus Mann Act charges, Cole and Tyler and I are going to work with the FBI and local authorities."
"In other words, Kevin's got shit," I said. "Nothing on you, and nothing to hang over my dad. And since you and my dad are doing this task force thing together, if Kevin tries to make a stink, it'll just come off making him look bad."
He grinned. "It's easy to see you're a politician's daughter."
"But--but this is incredible." So much so that I had to lean against the hood of his rental car. "Thank you," I said. "Thank you for getting my father out of this mess."
"You're welcome, but my motive was a selfish one, too. I don't want to lose you."
"I don't want to lose you, either," I said. "I miss you so damn much."
"But you need to go in with eyes wide open. Because Kevin is going to be pissed and he just might be vindictive. I'm getting out--I already told you that. I'm cleaning up my various businesses, and if I can't clean them up, I'm dumping them. Ending them altogether or selling my share to Tyler and Cole. I've been cleaning up for a while now, ever since my mom died, and I don't think there's a stitch of evidence for him to latch onto. But that doesn't change the fact that I've done things. Things he can jump all over. He might not be able to make it stick, but he can still make life miserable for us."
He took my hand and raised my fingertips to his lips. "In other words, as long as Kevin's determined to poke around, I'm still not a safe bet."
I looked at him, thinking of the way he made me feel. Of my uncle's regret. Of my mother.
Most of all, I thought about what I wanted.
And what I wanted was this man.
"I love you, Evan. I want to go home. And I'm willing to accept whatever risk." I drew in a breath. "I don't want to ever be without you."
"And you never will be," he said, then pulled me into a long, deep kiss punctuated by that extra special Evan kick that I loved so much. "Do you want to go back to Chicago right away?" he asked.
I frowned, not sure what he was driving at. "Why? Do you want to stay in California for a while?"
"I was thinking we could take a short detour on the way back," he said. "A weekend in Italy? Or we could just go wild and spend a full week there. What do you say?"
I laughed, delighted with the man, with the world, with the whole entire universe.
"I say that sounds absolutely amazing."
epilogue
Luckily for me, Esther hadn't yet filled the director position at the foundation, and so I was able to slide seamlessly into my new job. It was a lot of work between that and my classes, but I loved it. I especially loved coming home at night to Evan.
The day that the job was official, my parents sent me flowers and Evan took me to high tea at The Drake to celebrate.
Afterward, Evan and I walked to the beach, and even though I was wearing heels and a cocktail dress and Evan was wearing dress slacks, we kicked off our shoes and walked barefoot in the sand to the water's edge.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said, looking not at me but at the lake that lay spread out in front of us.
His tone captured my attention, making me suddenly and unreasonably afraid. I stopped drawing designs in the sand with my toes and looked at him. "All right," I said, telling myself that no matter what, it would be okay. This was Evan, after all. This was the man I loved. "Tell me."
"I asked the guys to do some poking around in California. Talk to our connections in the various police departments. Ask a few questions of some of the gang leaders. We got some good intel. And when I was out there, I followed up on it."
I tensed. "Gracie," I whispered.
His fingers were still twined with mine, and now he raised our joined hand to his lips. "Jahn found them," he said. "I don't know how, but he found the three sons of bitches who killed your sister."
"Oh." My legs suddenly felt like noodles, and I held tight to Evan's hand, determined to stand. "How? When?"
"Five years ago. He never said a word, just went out to vindicate his niece. As for how, I'm not certain. But he managed it. He found them, and he killed two. The third he put in the hospital. He survived and then bragged about it to his buddies. That's how we were able to get our intel."
"I--" I drew in a breath and realized that at least a little of the burden I'd carried for close to eight years had been lifted. "Did they arrest him?"
"No," Evan said, his jaw tight.
I licked my lips. "Did you kill him?"
He faced me, his gray eyes as flat as I'd ever seen them. "No," he said. "Some gangbanger got to him six months ago." He drew in a breath. "I have never killed a man, but I went out there intending to do just that. To find that son of a bitch and to end him. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
I nodded, feeling numb.
"I've walked away from a lot of my past. For you. For Ivy. For myself. But I have a code, and if someone comes after me or mine, I will strike back. And if it comes down to it, I will kill to protect the people I love."
"Do you think it scares me?" I asked. "You should know me better by now. You're not a killer, Evan. You're a protector. And I've never felt more safe than when I'm with you."
"Good," he said, looking both relieved and nervous. "I needed to make sure you understood that before--"
I cocked my head, confused by the way he suddenly broke off his words. "Before what?"
"Before I ask you to marry me," he said.
"Evan!"
For a moment I thought he was joking. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. He held it out to me even as he sank to one knee in the sand. "I love you, Angelina Raine. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
I looked from the ring to the man holding it and realized that both were blurry, probably because I'd started crying.
I sniffled, then laughed, then slid the ring on my finger before dropping down into the sand myself and knocking him backward. I kissed him, hard and fast, this man of mine. And as we lay in the sand under the bright summer sun, I said the only thing there was left to say.
I said yes.
J. KENNER loves wine, dark chocolate, and books. She lives in Texas with her husband and daughters. Visit her online at www.jkenner.com to learn more about her and her other pen names, to get a peek at what she's working on, and to connect through social media.
J. Kenner, Wanted
(Series: Most Wanted # 1)
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends