Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season (23 page)

BOOK: Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season
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7

I
didn’t see
where I had much of a choice but to follow Daniel into his house. Miles of deserted nothingness stretched out around it, and I knew my sense of direction was skewed. Even if I did know where I was, I knew I had no prayer of getting back to Vegas without a vehicle. And even if I was able to manage to steal Daniel’s car, I wasn’t really sure I
wanted
to go back to Brandon.

“It isn’t much, but it’s been home for a while now.” Daniel motioned with his arm into the entryway.

I walked in, unsure of what to expect. Part of me thought it would be some sort of dungeon of horrors—a perfect place to torture me for whatever it was he was hoping to get out of this latest kidnapping effort. But it didn’t look like a torture chamber at all—not that it meant anything.

The simple furnishings in the small house were a surprise—it wasn’t even the bachelor pad that I would have expected of him. The house was small—there was only a tiny living area with a small dining area off to the side near the kitchen. There were rooms in the back, but I could tell that the entire house was smaller than the bedroom I had grown up in back in Virginia.

There was something very
not Daniel
about the place. The lack of decorations—the stark plainness of the house wasn’t anything I would have expected, especially if he had been living here for as long as he said he had.

“I came out here after you left D.C. I lived in Vegas for a few weeks until I found this place. Vegas was too noisy, and I just needed some time alone. Some space to think.” He walked into the small kitchen, calling over to me. “Can I get you something to drink?”

I shook my head, still not really able to find the words to communicate. And even though I could have really used a glass of water—the hard knot in my throat would have given away the fear I was desperately trying to hide from him—there was no way I was going to eat or drink
anything
he gave me. Not if I didn’t want to wake up sometime tomorrow, probably without clothes and most likely chained to some bed that I knew had to be hiding in the back of the house.

He must have been able to read my mind—sense what I was really thinking, anyway. He took a few steps toward me, standing next to the dining table that had been between us. “Jenna, do you want me to pour a bottle of water into a glass? I’ll take a drink from it first.” He frowned, his shoulders dropping. “I know you don’t trust me. You have no reason to—I get that.” He motioned behind him, to the sink in the kitchen. “You can get it yourself if you want—right from the tap.”

I narrowed my gaze, blinking a few times. Trust was not something I thought I would ever be able to have for Daniel. Never again. He had betrayed any small amount of faith I might have still had when he had taken me last year. And now I was in the same boat—alone and exposed. At his mercy, really.

I scanned the room for anything I might have been able to use as a weapon. My brain still wasn’t thinking very clearly, but I had some inkling that I might be able to knock him out and take his car at the very least. He was bigger than me, but if I could grab something—take him by surprise—I might have a chance at a getaway.

“Jenna, I’m not going to hurt you. I never had any intention of physically harming you before. Mentally…” He looked down at the floor, frowning again before lifting his gaze to meet mine. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I definitely intended to cause you mental pain and misery. And I’m sorry.”

I had to close my eyes for a moment, shaking my head slightly.
He’s lying
. I know my brain was trying to protect my body, but there was something sincere about his apology. I still didn’t want to believe it, but I could hear what almost sounded like anguish in his voice. There was nothing familiar about the way he was acting—I hadn’t ever known Daniel to be apologetic for anything he had done—for any of the choices he had made. But I didn’t trust my own judgement of anyone’s character anymore. I had made too many mistakes already. I had already trusted too much.

“You don’t have to accept my apology. I just wanted you to know that. If I could go back and change things, I would.” He looked up at me again, still rubbing the back of his neck. His chin dipped to his chest—he was almost slumped over. “I made a lot of mistakes, Jenna. Too many. And I don’t expect you to forgive me—I’m having a hard enough time trying to forgive myself.”

My brow furrowed and I tilted my head, sure I had misheard him. None of this made any sense—the apologies, the
guilt
I could feel emanating from him. There was a part of me that would have loved to have believed that he had truly changed for the better. That he was repentant—at least a little—for his past actions. But this was all too perfect—too good to not be an act. That had to be what this was—some kind of facade that he was putting on with the expectation of … what? Getting me to go along with some plan? Getting me to do some kind of work for him and Ryan? I had no idea, I just knew that I still couldn’t even find my voice to even ask.

“The first mistake I made was taking you for granted. I didn’t realize what I had in you until you were gone.” His voice lowered, almost muttering. “Until
I
was gone.”

I felt my brows knit together again and I took a few steps to my left, into the small living room. I slumped into the nearest chair. My chest ached, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the continuing fear of what I thought he was about to do to me or if it was from the anger I could feel rising from my belly. Anger that was threatening to turn to rage.

He sat down in the chair across from me, perching on the edge. He bent his arms to rest his elbows on his knees, tenting his fingers in front of him. “Jenna, I really never meant to hurt anyone—“

“You just killed two men.” My words were clipped, and I dug my fingernails into the cushion of the chair, my body tensing more with each passing moment. I had no idea where my sudden bravado had come from, and I felt as sure as I ever had that it was going to end up getting me killed.

“No.” His expression softened, and he looked at me with an almost watery gaze. “It was one man, and I didn’t pull the trigger, Jenna. That wasn’t my call—I didn’t give the order. But that’s how it goes.” He ran a hand through his hair, tearing his gaze from mine. “I could write the book about what happens when you talk about double-crossing the Agostinos. That guy back there just didn’t have a father who was owed a favor and didn’t have anywhere to be banished.” He turned back to me, locking his gaze with mine. “I should have ended up just like that guy, whoever he was. I was lucky, and I didn’t realize it until about nine months ago. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve been on the straight and narrow ever since you left me that day. That day in D.C.”

“He had a family. He had a wife and kids and…” The ache in my chest from the fear and anger that I had been feeling for my own predicament was melting into a different kind of pain. It was more of a breaking heart than an ache in my chest—and I could feel myself almost bleeding for the children of the man who had been sitting next to me.

I couldn’t live like this—knowing that this was my future. That this was the world I had somehow been sucked into, all because of the man I had chosen to love. I didn’t want to think about a future where I would have to worry constantly about the father of my children never coming home. I didn’t want to have to fear that Brandon was dead if he was a few minutes late returning from a trip to the store. I somehow knew I couldn’t keep doing this to myself, let alone any children that I might have had.

Children. Babies.
I had let myself forget for a moment that Brandon already had a child on the way. That
I
wasn’t going to be the person worrying about him not coming home. I knew that he had chosen me, even though it wasn’t right. If Melissa was really carrying his child, he owed her something. He at least had to take responsibility for his actions. I wanted to believe that what I had seen at the airport hadn’t been true—that she was lying. I could only hope that she was only trying to get me to believe that Brandon was the father of her child—to get back at me. Probably because Brandon had still looked for me, even after he knew about the baby. I could feel it in her eyes—that look that would have shot poison darts into me if it could have. I knew at that moment that Brandon wasn’t mine anymore, and it wasn’t something that I had thought I would have to deal with again.

“This whole thing was thrown together at the last minute, and Ryan had those two new guys he wanted to test. I only know what he told me—that Melissa called him to tell him you were coming into town. He gave me the flight number and told me to call the driver. Tom. He’s pretty new, too, but he’s been good so far.”

I turned his words over in my head. Marty, the former cop, was dead. I knew that. He was the one who had talked about double-crossing or triple-crossing or whatever it had been. Trying to gain an advantage—an upper hand with the Agostinos—had killed him. I grimaced, clutching at my nauseous stomach, remembering how I had offered to help them double-cross Ryan. How I would pay them double. I wasn’t sure I could live with the guilt of knowing that the responsibility for Marty’s death was at least partially mine. If I hadn’t encouraged him—if I had just kept my mouth shut the way they told me to—everyone would still be alive. There wouldn’t be the body of a father and husband lying somewhere in the middle of the desert, probably already being picked away by vultures.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, certain I was about to vomit. I sat like that for a long moment, trying to think of anything I could do to make the situation right. I thought I might be able to find out who the guy’s wife was—give her money anonymously to at least make her life easier. Her husband had been a cop—he had made a decent living until he had chosen to go work for Ryan. And he had failed his first test. Because of me. I couldn’t live with myself, knowing it was my fault.

I opened my eyes when I felt something cold against my leg. Daniel had brought a bottle of water and was holding it out to me, touching it to the side of my thigh.

I looked up at him, barely able to hold back the tears of my guilt. I took the bottle and opened it, taking a long drink of the cold water.

“It wasn’t your fault. Tom told me what happened. Marty broke the rules before you ever opened your mouth, Jenna. His fate was sealed the moment he brought up taking you hostage—trying to get some sort of ransom.” He shrugged, sitting down in the chair across from me again. He let out a long sigh. “It’s the worst part of the job, but it’s also the part that everyone knows about. It’s not like it’s a secret. If you cross the Agostinos, you die. It’s the most straightforward thing about the job.”

I still didn’t trust him. I was sure that I would never be able to trust him, but I knew he was at least trying to be honest.

And I was damned glad I had never agreed to work for the Agostinos.

8

I
never would have thought
that taking a sip of water would communicate anything to anyone—let alone telling Daniel that I had some small amount of trust for him, no matter how tiny it might have been. That one act—opening a bottle of water and taking a drink—seemed to tell him more than anything else I could have said out loud.

“Why did you bring me here?” I didn’t really expect an honest answer—trusting that the water he had given me wasn’t spiked with some drug that was going to knock me out was one thing. Having Daniel tell me the truth about
anything
was another.

“I told you. Melissa called Ryan and asked him for a favor. She doesn’t have much pull with him anymore, but their interests were aligned this time. Sort of.” He gave me a weak smile. “Because you
and
Brandon were on the plane. If it had just been you, Ryan would have told her to go to hell.”

I nodded, taking another small sip of the water. I wasn’t really sure
why
I was nodding—none of this made any sense—but at least he wasn’t lying. I couldn’t think of a single reason he would have to lie about
that
.

“You know, don’t you? About the baby?” He grimaced, almost as though he knew how much the question was going to hurt me when he asked me.

Tears filled my eyes and it felt like a knife was stabbing into my heart. I couldn’t understand why Brandon would have continued looking for me at all when he was having a baby with Melissa. To bring me back to
this
? To force me to face the fact that while I had made the choice to disappear, he had made the choice to be with
Melissa
?

She blamed me. I had known that for a long time—she blamed me for all the things that had gone wrong in her life. She blamed me for her ever meeting Ryan, and while I knew that their meeting was probably because of me, her hooking up with him was definitely
not
. I had tried to warn her—at least I thought I had. And Brandon had tried to warn her. The pain in my chest turned from hurt to anger at that moment—Melissa was a grown woman, too. She made her own choices, and it was time for me to stop feeling guilty about whatever it was that she blamed me for. She had called Ryan to hurt me, and Ryan had called Daniel to hurt Brandon.
Their interests are aligned, at least for the moment…

“Jenna, I’m sorry. I know that sounds disingenuous, but I am. I really just want you to be happy. I hope you can believe that.”

I glared across at him, shaking my head. “Everything you’ve done … everything in the last few years. None of it has been to make me happy, Daniel. I really don’t know how you expect me to believe
any
of this. That you’ve just suddenly turned over a new leaf? That you’re somehow now a new person? I’m not sure how you expect me to believe
anything
you say, ever again.”

He nodded. “I deserve that. You’re right—I haven’t done anything to make you trust me. I’ve done exactly the opposite.” He tented his fingers on his lap again, tapping them together a few times. Something about his mannerisms was familiar.
Too
familiar.

Just like my father
.

Pain pierced my chest again as I realized where I recognized what he was doing with his hands. And after all the talk about how double-crossing the Agostinos gets you killed…

If I had been in a cartoon, a light bulb would have turned on over my head in that instant. And I hadn’t seen it before. I had only seen two sides—black and white, Davis and Agostino. It was that moment that I saw what I should have seen all along. There
weren’t
two sides to this story. There weren’t any sides at all. It was all one—both sides were the same. There was no good guy in this drama—only bad guys. Only guys out for what was best for themselves. Only people who felt the need to get what
they
wanted.

I didn’t have to choose a side. There was no Brandon versus the senator or Brandon versus Daniel or Brandon versus anyone. He worked with all of them. They all worked with each other to get what they wanted.

So why couldn’t I? Why couldn’t I look out for my own best interests? Why couldn’t I just look out for Jenna? Because I knew damned well that no one else was going to.

“So why did you bring me here? If you want me to be happy, that means you’re not planning to hurt me this time. Not planning to rape—“

“I never raped you, Jenna. I let you believe that because it hurt Brandon. It hurt you and it hurt him. I didn’t even touch you. Remember the woman I was with? Lexi? I had her take your panties off so that when you woke up you’d think…” His voice trailed off and he looked down at the floor, running his hands through his hair again. He lifted his gaze again to meet mine. “I’m sorry. I am. I let my bitterness get the better of me. I spent a long time hating Brandon for what he did to me. And then for what he did to you.”

I closed my eyes for a moment before looking at him again. “Other than knocking up the woman who used to be my best friend, what has he done to me? Specifically? And why does Ryan hate Brandon so much? He’s never told me. Brandon’s only told me that Ryan wants something that he thinks he has.” I didn’t really expect an honest answer—I didn’t even know if Daniel knew what had caused the rift between Brandon and Ryan. And everyone kept telling me that Brandon was trying to hurt me, but I had never seen any real evidence of that. If he really was the father of Melissa’s child, that would hurt like hell. But otherwise, he had pretty much bent over backward to prove that he
wasn’t
trying to hurt me.

He smiled. “Those are a lot of questions and that’s a long story. I didn’t bring you here today to do anything to you or even to have this conversation with you. I only brought you here to make Brandon squirm. Ryan wanted him to know that he could still do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.” He turned his gaze back to his lap. “We forget that sometimes. What we signed on for.”

“We…?”

He looked over at me again, his expression nearly vacant. “What I signed on for. What Brandon signed on for. It’s a lifetime sentence, and they can call us back in to serve them anytime they want and for any little
thing
they want. And they do.”

My brow furrowed again under my confusion. “I don’t understand.” My mind was racing, searching for any answers in what Daniel had already said. In everything Brandon had ever said.

“I need to show you something.” He stood up, his hands falling to his sides. He looked down at me, almost wincing. “You need to see this, but it changes everything. If I show you this, it means you’re part of it now. If you weren’t part of it before, you will be now.”

“I don’t—“

“I know. I know it doesn’t make sense.” He let out a long sigh, holding his hand out to me. “I have to show you. Then it might. It’ll make more sense than it does now.”

I stood, ignoring his outstretched hand. I couldn’t remember the last time Daniel and I had held hands, but it wasn’t going to happen again. Not today.

He nodded, turning to the short hallway. He began walking and stopped at one of the closed doors.

I followed, stopping behind him. “Daniel, if you’re planning to do something, can I just—? “

His head snapped around and he looked at me, his eyes narrowed. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you. You’re just going to have to believe me.” He turned back to the door, shaking his head.

He opened the door and I saw it was a small office. There was a desk facing the window in the corner of the room with several computer screens sitting on it. They looked innocent enough—the monitors looked like they were displaying spreadsheets and nothing looked overtly diabolical.

He sat down in the chair in front of the desk, spinning to face me. “I’ve known Brandon for a long time. Longer than I’ve known you.” He motioned to the chair next to the desk.

I sat down, leaning around to look at the screens more closely. There were only numbers—nothing seemed out of the ordinary or in any way unusual.

He shook his head, turning to the face the desk. He placed his hand on the mouse and minimized the screens with the spreadsheets. “This stuff isn’t important.” He paused, staring at the blank screen for a moment. “I’m not even sure I should explain this to you.”

“You brought me all the way out here. You might as well tell me now.” I tapped my fingers on my lap. I could feel my chest tightening again, my stomach hardening along with it. I had no idea what it was he wanted to show me, and I still wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But I knew I had spent too long trying to bury my head in the sand—being indecisive and trying to remain ignorant of what was going on all around me.

It was time for me to grow up. To be the woman I had wanted to become. To live out the life I had decided I wanted to lead over the past nine months—all that time without Brandon. It was time to know the truth.

He let out a long sigh, clicking on something on the computer. A black screen with a blinking cursor came up. “This is going to take a minute. It’s kind of complicated.”

“I took a few programming classes in college. I’m not an idiot, Daniel.”

He grimaced at my words. “I know that. And I’m sorry if that was how what I said came across.” He stood, crossing the room to the closet near the door. I watched as he pulled out a laptop, crossing the room to set it on the edge of the desk. He walked over to the bookshelf in the opposite corner, pulling a box from the shelf that looked like it contained a brand new laptop.

He handed the box to me. “It’s brand new.” He motioned at it with his head. “Check the seals. It’s never even been opened.”

I turned the box over in my hands. It was still sealed in its original shrinkwrap, the manufacturer seals all still in place.

“Open it.” He nodded at me again.

I began opening the box, peeling away the plastic and breaking the silver seals on the box. I pulled out the gleaming silver laptop and set the box on the floor.

He nodded, pulling the other laptop over to his lap before spinning in his chair to face me. “Has Brandon ever told you about his specialty? About what he does?”

“Information.” The brief discussions about what exactly he did had never been very clear to me. None of it had made much sense, but I had always had the feeling that his real specialty was women. He had some ability to get them to spill their deepest, darkest secrets in some sort of pillow talk that I hadn’t really allowed myself to ponder too often. I knew he had been with other women—I just didn’t like to think about it.

He lifted a brow, typing something into the laptop. “That’s funny.” He chuckled a bit, typing something again. “I suppose if you boil it down, that is what he does. I’d call it blackmail, but, you know, to-
may
-to, to-
mah
-to.”

His words came as no surprise—and blackmail was probably what I would have called it, too. Brandon and I had just never gone there—talked about his former job at any real length. I had always told myself that I didn’t want to know, and I had let it stay that way. Ignorance hadn’t really been all that blissful, though—it was what had led me to this moment. And there didn’t seem to be anything about that old saying that was true in my life. Ignorance was not bliss—not to me, anyway.

“Okay. Don’t freak out about this.” His brow creased and he looked down at the computer screen. “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

I nodded, unsure of what he could possibly show me on a computer screen that would make me panic in the way he seemed to think it might.

He turned the computer around on his lap, the screen now facing me. I wouldn’t say it caused a full-on panic attack, but my breath did catch in my chest.

And when I looked at the top of the screen—looked at the source of what I saw there—tears filled my eyes and I could only think of one thing to say.

“No…”

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