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Dr. Fisher pursed her lips and handed me several handouts. I glanced at them briefly: Anxiety, Depression, and PTSD – Symptoms and Treatment.
“Gee, thanks, but I don’t need these. What happened to me wasn’t that traumatic.”
“You were kidnapped, beaten, and drugged by strangers. They didn’t feed you, and you were dehydrated. They almost shot you.” Dr. Fisher held her clipboard against her chest. “Don’t minimize what you went through. It was most certainly traumatic. And now there’s what happened to your friend. If it were me, I’d take something or talk to someone. There’s no shame in it.”
“I really do feel fine.” But even as the words came out of my mouth, I felt like I might cry. I needed to get out of here.
“Sometimes the symptoms sneak up on you,” she said gently. “I just want you to be aware that having some anxiety or other issues after all this is perfectly normal. So read the sheet and know the signs. If you ever want to talk, just text me.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it. But I really need to get to work now.”
Dr. Fisher arched an eyebrow, but at least she let me go.
I called Fiona from the car on the ride home.
“Hannah.” She was clearly sobbing.
“I’m so sorry.”
Fiona blew her nose but kept crying. “You told me. You warned me, but I didn’t move fast enough.”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my own face. There was so much pain in her voice. “This wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
“She wanted my company.” Her voice shook. “And Jim paid for that.”
I felt helpless. “Can I come over? Can I help with the girls?”
“My mom’s here. I’ll—I’ll talk to you later.”
I went to say “okay,” but she’d already hung up. And really, what was the point of using that stupid word today?
My friend’s world had fallen apart. There was no such thing as “okay.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, forcing back the tears. Instead, I pictured Li Na Zhao’s face. I pictured punching it, hard, again and again.
Because angry felt better than sad. Hell yes, it did.
So I kept the image in my mind all the way home.
Chapter 8
Wes
I cursed myself for keeping my early morning appointment as I glared at Ashley, my physical therapist. “You’re not seriously making me do this.”
She crossed her arms. “Come on, tough guy. You can totally do this.”
“I know—because I’ve already done it three times.”
“So do it again. No big deal, right?”
I blew out a deep breath and looked at the mat. She wanted me to hold the plank position for as long as I could. Sweat ran in rivulets down my chest, and my arms and legs were already shaking. Over the past couple of weeks, Ashley had been coming to the house, running me through various exercises down in Gabe’s massive home gym. Our goal was to get me stronger, strong enough to tolerate walking on my own and to increase my muscle mass.
My ultimate goal, of course, was to kick Li Na Zhao’s ass.
“Get going,” Ashley grunted.
I might have to kick Ashley’s ass, too.
I mentally referred to her as Evil Spawn. Even though she was young, dark-skinned, dreadlocked, and perpetually dressed in blue scrubs and running shoes, Ashley reminded me of Sergeant Dell, my drill sergeant from basic training. Sgt. Dell was pasty-white and paunchy, with graying hair, in his mid-fifties—but like Ashley, he’d been crusty and ruthless. He’d also been utterly convinced and openly vocal about his prediction we would all fail.
Sergeant Dell motivated me. I felt the same way about Ashley—she pissed me off, so I wanted to prove something to her.
“I’m waiting,” she said, her muscular arms folded against her chest. “And last time I checked, I wasn’t getting any younger. You aren’t, either.”
“Sadist,” I said under my breath.
Ashley tilted her chin, her dreads swishing. “I heard that.”
I thought I’d said it under my breath.
I struggled to hold form, silently cursing her—but this time I made sure I actually kept silent. I made it for another full minute and collapsed against the mat, my arms shaking, my legs jelly. My heart thudded in my chest, a fact I kept to myself.
“Wes?” Ashley actually sounded a little worried. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m great. I can barely do a plank without feeling like I’m going to die, but really, I’ve never been better.”
“Good.”
Now she sounded like her smug, punishing self.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t like you,” I said.
“I get that a lot.” She came over and smiled down at me, offering her hand. “How about we make a deal? One year from now, you’re running a half marathon with me—and by the way, I hate running. It’s sooo boring. But I’ll do it for you so we both have something to work toward.”
“Half marathons are for weenies,” I croaked, knowing this would piss her off. “If you want to talk about running a full, I’m in. Because I’m no weenie.”
“Fine. But sit up. It’s time for leg raises.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
She shrugged. “If you ever call me a weenie again, I just might.”
Chapter 9
Hannah
“Isn’t there any legal way to proceed against her?” I asked Levi soon after the meeting started.
Levi sighed and rubbed his eyes, which were bloodshot from his overnight flight, as we all waited for an answer. Ten of Betts Security’s top agents crowded the living room, along with myself, Wes, Ash, Gabe, and Lauren. Timmy, Lauren’s longtime personal security guard, and Gabe’s and Lauren’s attorneys, Kami Robards and Bethany O’Donnell, were also present.
“Yeah, there’s a legal way,” Levi said. His carefully pressed pink button-down shirt strained against his powerful chest, a striking juxtaposition of expensive Italian style and unadulterated, Boston-homegrown-street-fighting brawn. “We could get her prosecuted here in California in federal court, and we can ask for her extradition. But do I think that the Chinese government’s going to cooperate with that? No, I do not. Even if they did, Li Na would know far enough in advance that she could go into hiding. The other issue is that even if we managed to get her into an American court, the evidence against her is strictly tangential.”
Kami, immaculate in a navy suit, raised her hand. “I would think there’s enough circumstantial evidence at this point to get a conviction.”
Bethany shook her head, shoulder-length blonde hair swaying. “I don’t know.” She frowned. “Reasonable doubt is a tough standard. We would need at least one strong connection, one solid piece of evidence tying Li Na to the men she’s hired over here to commit the crimes. I’m guessing it’s not going to be easy to locate corroborating evidence—she’s shown over and over again that she covers her tracks. So even if we get her extradited and indicted, which sounds like a long shot, we might not be able to make charges stick.”
Levi watched Bethany with interest, finally tearing his gaze away to address the rest of us. “Right. Attorney O’Donnell is correct, and I don’t think we can look for an extradition and a court proceeding as Plan A. I wish it were different, but that’s not the world we’re living in.”
“What about a private strike against her?” Wesley asked. “Is your firm equipped to handle a mission like that?”
“We’re equipped for all sorts of things, but Lauren and Gabe have made it clear in the past that they don’t want to physically harm Li Na. They don’t want blood on their hands, and I support that.”
“What other options do we have?” I asked, near outrage. Li Na can’t get away with murdering my friend’s husband! After everything she’s done—killing Clive Warren, terrorizing my sister, what she did to me, Wesley, and now Jim Pace—she needs to pay. My blood boiled at the injustice. Now I felt like the Hulk, abou
t to burst.
“Not many.” Levi shrugged. “Right now, our focus needs to stay on security. Security at home, security at Paragon and Dynamica, and security for Fiona Pace and her family.”
I clenched my hands into fists, frustration rolling through me. “I don’t…I don’t want to just focus on defense. We need to go after her. She can’t just keep getting away with what she’s doing. She’s a criminal. She’s a corporate terrorist. We need justice, not babysitting!”
“Hannah,” Lauren said in a low tone.
“No, she’s right.” Levi scrubbed a hand across his face. “But we still need to start with security. I’m imposing a curfew, and I need a daily agenda from each of you—Hannah, Lauren, Gabe, Wesley, Kami, and Bethany. I need to know where you are every second of every day, and who you’re with. We’ll be screening any unknowns, so you need to be prepared for that.”
Bethany tapped her pink pen against her pink laptop case, nervous energy radiating off her. “Um, I’m sorry, but I have a busy practice to run. I meet new clients every day, and I don’t have time to vet everything through a committee.”
“Fine.” Levi frowned. “I’ll just assign one of my guys to you—so you can run everything by one man, not a committee. But your agent needs to come with you everywhere.”
“This isn’t going to work for me—” Bethany spluttered.
“Randy, you are hereby assigned to Bethany.” Levi waved at one of the guards in the back, an enormous, grizzled-looking man in his mid-forties with tattooed knuckles. He was thickly muscled and built broadly, like a refrigerator, one of the Viking ones with double doors. He came over and sat by Bethany, grunting at her in greeting.
She grunted back. “You can’t bring weapons into court,” she instructed Randy.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am.”
“Yes, Attorney O’Donnell.” Randy offered her a small smile.
She smiled back. “You learn fast—that’s at least in your favor.”
“Appears you two will get along fine,” Levi said, clearly pleased with himself.
Bethany glared at him. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
“Duly noted, Attorney O’Donnell. Any further objections?”
She scowled and tapped her pen.
“Timmy, you’re with Lauren. Ash, stick with Gabe.”
Timmy nodded. Ash and Gabe both groaned.
“Brian, you’re still with Hannah—”
Wes raised his hand. “Actually, Levi, I’d like to watch Hannah. I’m a Paragon employee, though, so I guess I need permission from Lauren.” He leaned forward and looked to her, silently begging. “I’m cleared for most physical activity. I can do this, and I want to be close by in case something happens.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Wes, no. You just got out of your wheelchair, which I’m not even remotely sure is authorized—”
He squeezed my hand. “Babe? This isn’t your decision. Lauren?”
I stopped talking and furiously turned my attention to my sister.
Lauren’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“Brian will be there, too. I’m not going to compromise Hannah’s safety by trying to do this alone. But I need to be there to protect her. I can walk now. I don’t need the wheelchair anymore—”
“Wes, we need to talk,” Levi said. “After the meeting, okay? We’ll figure it out then.”
“Okay,” Wes said. He didn’t dare look in my direction.
Levi went on to discuss the security plans for Jim Pace’s service, which was happening the next morning, but I couldn’t focus on his words. Lauren and I were going to Fiona’s house later today, and I felt sick for my grieving friend. That, plus what Wes had just pulled, combined to make me a hot mess.
When the meeting wrapped up, and I grabbed Wes’s hand. “I need to talk to you.”
“I have to talk to Levi first.”
“I’m coming with you,” I insisted.
Wes cursed under his breath, but he held on to my hand and headed toward Levi, who was addressing Randy and the guard assigned to Kami Robards.
“I want to know every detail. I want you to run a background check on everyone in their offices, and I want you to send me a copy of their schedules. You are to be in every meeting.”
Bethany elbowed her way into the conversation. “Have you ever heard of the term ‘attorney-client privilege’? I can’t bring a meat locker into a client meeting! No offense, Randy.”
“None taken, Attorney O’Donnell.”
Levi’s jaw clenched as he leaned over Bethany, apparently trying to menace her. “You can’t be alone right now. It’s not safe.”
He obviously didn’t know our lawyer very well—she stood up even straighter, all five foot three of her in spiked heels, and didn’t back down an inch. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, and quite successfully. I don’t need your help.”
Levi crossed his arms. “Lauren agrees with me about this, and last time I checked, she was your boss.”
Bethany arched an eyebrow. “Lauren is my client—I tell her what to do, not vice versa. So back off.”
Lauren came over and patted Bethany on the arm. “Can you please take security as a favor for your favorite client? I don’t want you getting hurt. I can’t handle worrying about it right now. So please, take Randy with you. If you’re worried about privilege, just let him background check everyone and then he can wait outside the door of whatever meeting you have. Okay?”
Bethany frowned at Lauren. “Okay.” She turned back to Levi. “For the record, I like being asked—not told.”
Levi’s eyes glittered. “Duly noted.”
Bethany snorted. “Enough with the legalese. Jesus!” She stalked off, Randy close on her clicking heels.
Levi watched Bethany as she left, and Lauren watched Levi. I wondered if my sister had neglected to tell me some juicy gossip, and vowed to corner her about it later.
Wes stepped forward. “Levi.”
All concerns about gossip fell away. I gripped Wes’s hand so he wouldn’t forget about me and what I wanted, which was to keep him as far from harm’s way as possible.
“You said you wanted to talk to me,” Wes said.
“I do.” Levi’s gaze flicked to me. “How’re you doing, Hannah?”
“I’m good. Thanks.” Since Levi and his team had rescued me, he’d continued to check in on me, the way a big brother might. “But I don’t want Wes coming back to active duty—he hasn’t been cleared for that.”
Wes ignored me and focused on Levi. “I have a follow-up appointment with my doctor later this week.”
“Good.” Levi patted Wes’s arm. “We’ll see about getting you back in the field after that. But, I do need to talk to you—Lauren and I have been discussing Paragon’s security, and she’d like my company to take over operations at the lab.”
Eddie, Paragon’s long-time security manager, had decided to retire. Who could blame him?
“Okay.” But Wes sounded unsure.
Levi smiled at him. “I’d like you to come work for Betts Security. You’ll still be at Paragon on a rotating basis, but business is booming in Silicon Valley. I need all the good men I can get, including you and your brother. I spoke to Ellis last night, by the way. He’ll be here this afternoon.”
Wes coughed. “Here, here? As in Northern California?”
“Yes, he said he’d stop by after he dropped his stuff at home. Listen, about your new position, I’ll send you the contract so you can review it. I have your number. You can start as soon as you’re medically cleared.” Levi patted him on the arm again and was gone.
I temporarily stopped being pissed about Wes’s campaign to get back to work. “Ellis will be here this afternoon. That’s great!”
He grunted, looking less than ecstatic. “We, as in you and me, are going real estate shopping. I’ll let my brother have my old house—him and his guns and his Budweiser.”<
br />
I didn’t think Wes really needed to add house hunting to his to-do list. Selfishly, the idea of him going anywhere, including to a new house of his own, made my gut twist. But I needed to be supportive, at least about this.
“We can start looking. I’ll help,” I offered.
“It’s a date. Listen, can I come with you to Fiona’s today? I promise I won’t act like a security guard, just a worried boyfriend.”
“Wes!” Brian called from the other side of the room. “We need you for a tactical meeting in five.”
I bristled. “Already getting back to work, huh?”
“I can do tactics sitting in the comfort of Gabe and Lauren’s living room,” he chided, “so you don’t have to worry. I guess I can’t come with you, though.”
“Levi and Ash are going with us—they want to talk to Fiona about coverage for the service and setting up personal security for the girls. Lauren and I will be fine.”
Wes brushed the hair from my forehead, still looking at me with concern. “Are you okay about this? Seeing her?”
I squared my shoulders. “I have to be. She needs me.”
“You don’t have to be so strong for everybody all the time.”
An image of Wes lying in his hospital bed, unconscious, with tubes running into his body, flashed in my mind. I threw my arms around his neck. “Yes, I do.”
Chapter 10
Hannah
Ash maneuvered up the Paces’ long driveway. Their home was on the other side of Palo Alto in a gated community. Then the large stucco house came into view, replete with columns and a bubbling fountain adorning the manicured lawn.
Ash let out a low whistle as we got out of the SUV. “This is gorgeous.”
Levi grunted, looking around at the sunshine and the rolling green lawn. “California really is nicer than Massachusetts—it’s not fair.”
“Right?” Ash agreed. “Palo Alto makes South Boston look like it got beat with the ugly stick. Which it sort of did, but still.”