The End of Games (13 page)

"You had money all this time, and you acted like we were broke, paycheck to paycheck?"

He laughed, "You would have wanted to spend my money on the kids. I knew it would go to the kids and not me. I saw the way I worked hard and everything went to sports gear, and birthday presents for kids that our kids didn’t even like, and new couches, and shit I didn’t ever want. I couldn’t even imagine how it might have been if you had had my millions."

I gasped, "But you wanted to work as much overtime as you could so you bought that fucking house?" His eyes flashed something and I smiled bitterly, "Oh shit. Silly Evie, the work wasn’t about the money, was it?"

He truly looked upset for a moment as he gave me a headshake, "It was awkward enough being with you and not wanting you, but then we had the kids. Then you were always tired and your body was so sore from the babies. I just… I wanted more."

It happened so fast, I didn’t realize I'd done it until his jaw dropped in shock and blood dripped from his lower lip onto his white shirt. He made a noise I had never heard a human being make before. It was like an inward gasping sound. It was like he was deflating.

I looked at the gun in my hand and gasped. I hated him that much? I hated him. Words left my lips in a cold tone, "You were a very good actor, James. Very convincing."

Tears streamed down my cheeks. They were for him. I didn’t want to give him even a second longer in my heart, but I couldn’t stop myself. Ten years was a long time to believe all the lies. I needed time to catch up and see that it was all an act. Every smile, every laugh, and every moment of him being charming, it was a lie.

He coughed and moaned as he slid from the chair. The red spot on his shirt spread into a strange and aggressive pattern and then he died.

I watched as the last breath left his body. The last breath I needed to move on and not fear him anymore.

I could barely hear the footsteps and screaming that filled the air. Hands grabbed me, hitting me and dragging me from the chair. I only realized it was Servario as I was shoved into a room, and the door was closed as he left me there.

A shrill voice screamed, "I'LL KILL HER!"

I heard Servario talking, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I sat on the bed, looking down at my fingers. I had just shot… out of anger, pain, and humiliation, I had pulled the trigger. It hadn’t been for my children. It hadn't been to help the world or save anyone. It was entirely about wounded pride.

I was a very bad person, that much was abundantly clear.

Chapter Fourteen

Couch Cushions

The door flew open. Mary held a gun on me, shaking as she raged, "YOU STUPID SLUT!"

I shook my head, "Mary, let me explain." Where was Servario?

Spit flew from her pale lips as she screamed, "YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED MY BABY! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG AND HARD I LOOKED FOR HIM? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LOSE A CHILD?" Then she did something I wasn’t prepared for. She slumped into the doorframe and sobbed, drooping the gun into the lap of her pale skirt. Her face was swollen and tear stained. "I gave him life and you took it away."

I nodded, "I am so sorry."

She shook her head, "I will kill your son for this. I will kill him for this and then you will know what loss is."

My anger levels rose instantly, "You will leave my son out of this. He's just a boy, not a spy. You gave up your child! I have loved mine since he was conceived. I have raised my son, not abandoned him to strangers and forced him to work as a spy."

She sniffled, no longer crying and defiant, like she was not feeling anything. I watched her shut her emotions off, "You know nothing." She lifted the gun, "Get up."

I stood from the bed, waiting for her to kill me. Where was Servario? I wanted to grab her gun and smash her in the face with it. I wanted her to die for threatening my child, even if I had killed hers.

She looked as if she were attempting to regain some of the composure and control she was used to having as she pointed the gun at the doorway, "Let's go."

I walked out of the room, instantly terrified of the gun she had in my back. I walked down the long hallway to the front of the boat where James was dead on the floor just on the other side of the wall.

"Sit."

I sat on the couch in the living room. She sat across from me, still pointing the gun at me, "You will tell me what you know about the Master Key and the Burrow now."

I frowned, "I know James was looking for the Master Key. I thought James thought it was Servario, but when I went to work for Servario…"

"Whore for Servario, don’t make it sound like work. You were whoring. Continue the story and say whore."

I nodded, almost laughing nervously, "When I went to w-w-whore for Servario, he too was looking for the Master Key and threatened to kill me and my family many times if I didn’t help him find it. I realized then, that James and Servario were both looking for it." I swallowed hard, "I know the Burrow is a collection of weapons. James had paperwork at the house and I read it."

He eyes narrowed, "He had paperwork?"

I nodded, "He did. He had lists of presumed Burrow weapons and possible locations for it."

She sniffed, "Why would he leave that at the house?"

"It was in a place he never would have imagined me looking."

She sneered, "Where?"

"His shoe boxes of shit he had brought into our marriage. Old medals and keepsakes and crap from when he was a boy." I lied through my teeth.

She nearly lit up, "He had keepsakes?"

I nodded.

"Well, where are they?"

"I burned them along with the papers that might have incriminated him."

She nodded at a guard standing at the entrance. He walked over, slapping me hard across the cheek. I cried out as it made my broken nose instantly throb.

"Where are they?"

I sobbed, "I burned them, Mary, I swear."

She got up and walked around the back of the couch, tapping her gun against her hand, "He had papers. He never got them from Servario, or else Servario wouldn’t ever have been looking for the Master Key." She poured herself a drink at the beautiful bar in the corner, "So Servario isn’t the Key, and your father isn’t the Key, and clearly James wasn’t the Key. Who could it have been?" her eyes darkened, "Who saved you? You were bound in a hotel, beaten and injured after the attempt on James' life. Who saved you?"

I almost bit right through my lip, trying to remember the story we had agreed on. Instead of showing her my nerves, I shrugged, "A man. Servario had collapsed from a drink, we assumed poison. A man came in and freed us all. He was older, tall, and built. He didn’t stay when the CI agents came. He had fled by then."

She sighed, "Did you ever hear him on the phone?"

I shook my head, sitting perfectly still, "No. After Servario double-crossed us by pretending to kill James, but really killing Roxy to tie up the lose end, he took us to Boston and forced us to the hotel. He was going to trade us to someone. We think that was when the real Master Key struck. Servario had faked his death so the agency was no longer looking for him or James. The Master Key believed them dead so he just freed us and fled."

We had rehearsed it over and over but my palms were sweating.

She chewed a pickled asparagus for a moment, processing it all. She paused her thoughts and gave the guard a nod. He walked to me, slapping me hard again. I cried out. My head was throbbing brutally. She came and sat across from me again, "You are of no use to me, Evie. None whatsoever. This was why I told James not to bother bringing you here. No one is coming for you and you have no information for me. Servario has tried, James has tried, and now I have tried even if it was unintentional. Your father is not coming. Fitz is not coming. Your mother is not coming." She wriggled her lips, "I can only assume it is one of two things. They are involved in the Burrow or they don’t care for you." Her dark eyes grew hateful, "But I knew your mother well, and so I know she would die for you." A devious smile crept over her lips, "Your mother is the Master Key. That is why she has not saved you and the same with your father. They are involved in this. They would have come for you already and they have not. It really can only mean one thing. They have something bigger to protect than their love for you."

I looked past her at the white board next to the fridge. It had a list of ingredients.

Soybeans.

Vanilla.

Calamari.

Spaghetti.

Evie.

Couch Cushions.

I slipped my hand in between the couch cushions. I didn’t jump when the slim blade cut my fingertip. I gripped the exceptionally-narrow hilt of the knife.

How had he done it? How had he known I would sit there and she would sit across from me? I almost smiled, knowing it was in my hands.

She got up and walked to me, "If they won't come and save you, Evie, then I don’t need you." She grabbed my arm, shoving me towards the door, away from the guard. A savage smirk crept across my lips, "What makes you so certain I need them to come and save me, Mary." I swung my hand back, stabbing her in the jugular fast and then elbowing her in the ribs. Her blood greased my hand as I pulled the extremely-sharp blade from her throat. She almost went down, but I grabbed her. The guard fired two shots. I used her as a shield and fired on him with her gun in her hand. He dropped as I dropped her. Footsteps came from behind me. Sooky's scream was cut short as blood dripped from between her eyes, and I noticed my hand never even shook as I had pulled the trigger. The second guard, the one who had taken it in the ass came in. I held the gun on him, "Really? You would kill me after she did what she did to you?"

He thought for a split second before lifting his gun. I fired, hitting him in the head like Sooky. I waited but no more guards came in. I sat down on the couch where she had been sitting as Servario came in, sauntering with a smug look.

He looked down at the dead and sat on the couch across from me. He looked beautiful in his dress shirt and slacks. I looked down at my torn and bloodied clothing. How had it gotten so bad?

"You look like hell, Evie." I nodded. He tilted his head, " I was so scared when I got to the brothel and you weren’t there. Oh God, you can't even know. James had gone back on the plan to take you there and brought you here instead. Did they hurt you? Do you need a cry or to punch something?"

I shook my head. It was the truth. I didn’t. I also didn’t want to cry with him. I didn’t trust him, not a hundred percent. "Knives in couch cushions? That was your great plan?"

He nodded slowly, still looking haunted almost, "It worked and I had no time. I couldn’t let them think I cared for you, beyond the fulfillment of your contract."

I scowled, "Not if I'd sat on that side of the room."

He chuckled and looked down.

"How long have she and James known about each other?"

"A little while."

I wrinkled my lips, processing it all, "What now?"

He winked, "Next leg of the journey. We have to go after the head of MI6."

I scowled, "We just did."

He laughed, "Mary has been the middle man for a long time. Apparently, James’ father was the previous leader of MI6. When Mary got pregnant, he made her give James up to Americans. He made sure she could never find him and used James' safety as a means to keep Mary in check. But behind her back, he manipulated it so James joined cadets, the military, and CI and met you. James has been a British agent since he was about twelve, he just never knew it."

I scowled, "When did you figure this all out."

He sat there, stoic like Coop always did, but he had a tell Coop didn’t. A guilty tell. One of the fingers on his right hand gave a subtle twitch, like he wanted to drum it against the arm of the couch. His green eyes were set on my lip. I cocked an eyebrow, "Well?"

He bit his lip, forcing the answer to stay inside.

I nodded, "From the start?" He didn’t budge. I shook my head, "I knew it. I knew you knew from the start. You knew Steve was dispatched to my house. That was an act for my benefit. You did put the tracking device in the heel of the shoe for the Brits. You endangered my family from the start."

His mouth opened but I put a hand up, "Don’t. Don’t lie to me."

He closed his mouth. I looked down, "What's left to do?"

"We are going to a brothel…"

"Fuck!" I waved my hand, holding him off, but also distracting him from the fact I was tucking the knife from between the couch cushions into my pocket. "I don’t need to know. Surprise me." I got up and walked past the window where he had also written,
'Evie couch cushions'
backwards in white finger smears. "What room should I shower in?"

He looked like he wanted to say a thousand things and I wanted him to, but he took the coward's path. He just looked at the front of the boat, "We are going to board a small boat and leave this one the way it is."

I looked around the boat, "You'll be blamed for the death of a British and American agent."

He gave me a look. I sighed, "Right, of course. Of course you would want that. It makes you look good to the Burrow, American intelligence, and the bad guys. Of course British intelligence probably will reward you for this, won't they? They know she was a double agent all along, don’t they? I watched her with Sooky, talking about how they would have to turn the weapons in to the Brits. I could tell she thought that was a joke. She was going to sell them, wasn’t she? She never was going to give the Burrow up."

He gave me a soft smile, "Evie, the world wants the Burrow, not just the bad guys. Besides, what makes you think the head of MI6 is a good man? Let's go to the boat. It looks better if you look the way you do."

I shook my head, "I look like I was in a plane crash."

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, "Yes, but you also look like you fought me tooth and nail to get away."

He held his hands out. They were bloodied and swollen. I scowled, "What is that?"

He laughed, "That is what I was doing when you were killing everything up here."

"What?"

He nodded, "The guards below, there were several. The main sleeping area is down below."

My gaze narrowed, "You wrote couch cushions and my name in messy writing on the white board because you knew she was going to try to kill me, but then you left me?"

He nodded.

I gasped, "You were covering your ass in case she killed me? You stayed below in case it didn’t turn out the way you had hoped it would, but either way, you would have been safe from me blowing your cover."

His eyes couldn’t hide the truth.

I knew I looked wounded. I could see it on his face and hear it in my tone, "Fuck you, Servario."

He sighed, "Language, Evie. I don’t like to be spoken to that way. You know that."

I growled, "I don’t like being hung out to dry by someone who told me they loved me." I stormed past him to the boat. I climbed down the ladder and sat on the seat. He followed slowly, pulling on sunglasses and looking guilty as hell.

I watched his face for a split second, praying it would soften but it didn’t. He truly was the best Master Key the Burrow ever had. He would have let me die. I looked out at the water and knew my mother had not come either. She and my father had left me with Servario, fully aware of the type of man he was. Fully aware of the fact that he would let me die to protect the cause. Everyone was so prepared to lose everything for the Burrow. I wasn’t though.

I was never going to be the agent they were.