Beyond the Consequences: Book 5 of the Consequences Series (Volume 5) (19 page)

Taylor’s voice returned him to present. “Do either of you plan on telling me what happened?”

Eric shrugged. “I don’t know what you want to hear. It sounds like she’s moved on. I guess we just keep an eye out for her or new mailings. At least we now know for sure who we’re looking for.”

Taylor crossed her arms over her chest and wrinkled her brow. “I went to Olivia. I haven’t said a word to Mr. or Mrs. Rawlings and this is the way I’m treated. If you think I’m naive enough to believe this report at face value, you’ve seriously underestimated me.”

Eric stood and handed her the pages. “Read it, and see if you find something we missed.”

As she reached for the report, Eric’s gaze met hers and he whispered something Phil couldn’t hear. A cold chill filled the room as Taylor turned and met Phil’s frigid stare. A moment later the door to the security office closed and Phil and Taylor were alone. Taking the pages, Taylor silently went to the sofa and settled against the soft leather. Her blue eyes scanned each page. Occasionally she’d stop and reread a sentence or a paragraph. Phil wasn’t sure. He hadn’t heard exactly what Eric had said, but by the way she looked at them, he knew it was about Patricia.

What would she say or think if she knew what went on in Olivia? It wasn’t like her record was without blemish. The more Phil got to know Taylor, the more he knew that they were in many ways cut from the same cloth. Maybe that’s what bothered him the most. Eric accepted everything as part of his job, part of his responsibility. He rarely questioned. Phil knew that Taylor would want to know more. If the roles were reversed, he’d want more. After three weeks of wondering if he’d made the right decision, Phil still didn’t know. That contrary was something new. Never in the past had he second-guessed himself.

Phil turned his chair away from Taylor and watched the monitors. They were on a random feed from all around the estate. Since he’d taken over security, the cameras were more advanced than they had been. The new house also had fewer cameras within the rooms. The first floor was fully accessible to surveillance, even the Rawlingses’ office. That had been a point of contention with Rawlings when Phil first took over security, but Phil reminded him that the recorded conversation in his old office was the key to his innocence. They compromised. The office feed was only accessible with the proper dual code. Only Claire and Rawlings had access-to-one half of the code. Therefore, the office would only be reviewed if one of the Rawlingses and a member of the security team were both in agreement. The lawns, gardens, pool, playground, and all of the outside grounds were constantly monitored. The capability was present for the front gate to be either physically or remotely manned. No one could access the estate without being admitted and recorded.

Phil closed his eyes and remembered.

Patricia’s eyes filled with tears. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re leaving here. Say goodbye to Melissa Garrison.”

Phil pulled the gun from his pocket. Pointing it toward Patricia, he said, “You have two minutes.” In her left hand, she held tightly to her cell phone. He nodded toward it. “Place that on the table. Go. Get whatever you’d grab to leave. If you have cash hidden, I recommend you take it now. You’re not coming back.”

“I-I don’t have—”

“You do,” he said, “in the cupboard in the bathroom. Go now.”

She moved slowly, deliberating each word he’d said. Placing the phone down, she turned. “How do you know about the money?”

“Ms. Miles, I know much more than you’d think. I’ll explain it more once we’re gone.”

Suddenly, she walked briskly toward her bedroom. When Phil heard the door shut, he shook his head and followed. Though it was locked, the small key-like object rested predictably above the jamb. Entering the room, he found Patricia trying unsuccessfully to open the window. “It’s an old house,” he said calmly. “The windows have been painted too many times. Don’t be stupid. I’m not alone. Get the cash, some shoes, and a jacket.” He looked at his watch. “You now have one minute.”

“I’m not getting my money. If you’re going to kill me anyway, I’m not giving you my cash.”

“Fifty seconds, and I assure you, I don’t want or need your money. You will. Get it now.”

With ten seconds to spare, they stepped from the side door into the night air. “Lock the house,” Phil demanded.

She looked at him with the unspoken questions.

“It needs to look as if you’ve disappeared of your own volition. Locking the door is something you always do.”

Nodding, she placed the key in the lock; however, as she started to move toward the carport, Phil reached for her elbow and redirected her toward the driveway. “No, Ms. Miles, we have a ride.”

Taylor’s hand rested upon Phil’s shoulder pulling him from his thoughts and causing him to jump. As he turned he expected to see anger in her blue eyes; instead, it was sadness.

“Tell me. You need to talk.”

“Ms. Walters, I assure you—”

Taylor leaned back against the desk. “Don’t. I’m not asking you because I feel left out. I’m asking you because I see the anguish. I see you rubbing your neck and rolling your head from side to side. I’ve seen the way you watch the cameras and front gate. I know you come in here in the middle of the night and review footage.”

Phil started to protest. She had no right to spy on him. Yet before he could articulate the proper response, she continued talking.

“I know you take this job and this family personally.” Leaning forward, she said, “I get it. I know about your family.”

Phil’s shoulders snapped back. “I don’t have a family.”

“You’ve called the Rawlingses your family more than once. I know about your blood family.”

“Don’t!” His volume rose as he sprung from his chair. “Forget whatever you think you know. My private life isn’t open for discussion.”

Taylor stood taller. “We all get into this line of work for different reasons. I understand that you weren’t there for them.” She reached out and touched his chest. The warmth of her fingers radiated through the material, scorching his skin below. When Phil stepped back, Taylor went on, “You were thousands of miles away on a godforsaken tour.”

“Korea,” he said, swallowing any emotion. “I was stationed in South Korea. The eighties were a turbulent time. Kim Jong II was in power in North Korea; the tension was building between North Korea and the rest of the world. There were problems with Gorbachev…”

“You were a kid, in your twenties.”

Phil nodded. “I was supposed to go home. My father had this gun shop… But I got an offer to re-up. I never went home.”

Taylor nodded. “I know, and they died while you were away.”

“They didn’t
die
. They were murdered in their sleep by a kid who wanted to rob the store. The asshole had tried to rob it once before and only spent one night in jail. He used my father’s own gun to shoot them.” He shook his head. “My parents lived in an apartment above the shop.”

Why had he just said all of that?
He hadn’t thought about that, not consciously, in years—decades. Taylor reached for his hand. He looked down at the foreign connection, thinking how warm and soft her skin felt against his.

“You weren’t there.” Her voice was soft yet strong. “But you are here. Whatever happened in Olivia, you’re here. That’s what matters. The Rawlingses don’t live above a gun shop. No one’s getting near them. You’ve done everything to protect them.”

He pulled his hand away. The pain in his chest was unbearable. This was shit. He’d done better as the assassin. It was business. This feeling shit was painful. “No! I didn’t. I could’ve done everything, but I didn’t.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Phil stepped away, pacing about the small office. “I could have. Eric would’ve supported my decision either way. Don’t you get it?”

“No, I don’t.”

“She was honest. I asked her about Nichol and she was honest. She could’ve lied. If she had…” He pinched the brow of his nose. “…that’s what I told myself, if she lied…”

Taylor moved to her desk and sat. “Help me, Phil. I can’t follow what you’re saying.”

He stopped pacing and turned. “I asked her what her plans were for Nichol. She admitted that she planned to take her.”

Taylor’s chest moved up and down with deep breaths. “You were doing your job.”

“Stop!” He couldn’t remember ever feeling so out of control. “I didn’t. If I had I wouldn’t be watching the damn monitors all night long. But… she was honest. That was the deal.”

“Phil?”

The golden flecks in his hazel eyes shimmered with moisture.

“Please tell me.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Patricia’s out of the country. She has been for over two weeks. I haven’t heard from her and obviously, neither has the FBI. I gave her another chance.”

Taylor’s lips formed a straight line. “So you didn’t…”

“I should have.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I’d planned to, but she wasn’t delusional. She wasn’t crazy. She was just hell-bent on revenge. I sound so fucking soft.” He fell down onto the sofa. “If anyone in this crazy world deserved revenge, it would be Claire. Yet she’s never tried to get it. Hell, she forgave Rawlings. I just thought if Claire talked to Patricia—which I don’t want her to do—she’d see that Patricia didn’t really want Nichol. She wanted Claire to hurt for hurting her.

“This whole thing is so fucked up. Claire didn’t hurt her. Patricia had her sights set on something that would never be. Instead of dwelling on it, and giving up her life and her freedom, I convinced her to leave. I told her to get away before the FBI figured it out. This was her last chance to have a life. We gave her an additional installment on her severance package and provided her with new identification. We explained that she was on her own.

We also warned her. We’d found her once. If she ever came near them or even so much as sent another card, I promised that I’d hunt her down.”

Finally, he made himself meet Taylor’s blue gaze. She feigned a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked. “Admitting that I’ve gone soft and if something happens to anyone in this family it’s my fault?”

She shook her head as her smile became real.
Why was she smiling?
“No,” she replied. “For showing that you care and that you want to do what’s right. From all that I’ve learned, this family seems to have been consumed with vengeance. You had the chance to continue that, and you didn’t.”

“She didn’t have a plan. If she had… if she’d lied… but she didn’t.”

“We’ll help. You know that, don’t you? Eric and I want the same thing you do. I didn’t take this job for the money or even the glamorous hours.” Her cheeks rose as she found amusement in her own statement.

Despite his mood, Phil grinned too, because though the pay wasn’t bad, the hours definitely sucked. “I took this job,” she continued, “because I wanted to find a place to make a life. I saw the devotion both you and Eric had. I wanted that. I wanted to feel strongly, and I do. I don’t think that making the decision
not
to kill someone is a bad one. It makes me all the more proud to be on your team.”

Phil closed his eyes and sighed. He’d always been the one to carry the load. Whether it was the death of his parents or the lives he’d taken, it had always been on him and him alone. He’d never considered sharing. The couch shifted as Taylor sat beside him. He looked her direction. “I’m not sure what made me tell you all of that. I haven’t told anyone the stuff about my family. I haven’t spoken of it in over twenty years.”

Taylor tilted her head. “Sometimes it’s healthy to talk. I hope you know that whatever you tell me is safe with me.”

Before he could respond, Taylor leaned toward him. Suddenly, his decision seemed right. Phil could live with it, because he wasn’t alone. The scent of Taylor’s light perfume filled his senses with hope for a future, for not only the Rawlingses, but for everyone. Maybe he was getting soft, but as her lips neared his, it wasn’t his decision that consumed his thoughts. It was his desire to feel her softness: her lips, a mere whisper away, her hands, how they warmed his skin. And then it happened. Had he moved forward or was it all her? It didn’t matter. Phil’s chest filled with sensations he’d kept buried for too long. He wanted nothing more than to be lost in the sweetness of her kiss.

A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.

—George A. Moore

CLAIRE WALKED QUIETLY
through the darkened hallways and down the staircase. With Nichol tucked into bed sound asleep, Shannon out for the evening, and Tony not yet back from a business trip, the house was still and peaceful. The serenity gave her strength as she made her way through the living room and outside onto the back patio. Claire smiled as she looked up to the Iowa sky. The black velvet blanket high above glistened with millions of stars shining down like diamonds. As she inhaled the moist, sultry air and listened to the songs of the cicadas, Claire momentarily wondered if Tony could see the same stars from his plane. Did he even notice as he flew home to his family or was he lost in his work?