When Keigel finally sobered, he said, “But seriously, I can’t risk my protection getting killed ’cause she going into some war without backup. Let me and the homies be your backup.”
“No homies,” she reiterated, stopping her packing briefly to make her point clear. “No one goes.”
“Then me. Whoever got you like this, you shouldn’t go in by yourself.”
“I can do this by myself.”
“Doesn’t mean you should,” he said, unmoved. “It’s okay to accept help once in a while, you know. You got people, girl. I’m your people.”
They stared at each other. Him determined not to let her pass without his being right on her heels. Her trying to figure out why she was considering his offer and when he’d become her “people.” She turned away from him, pulling open the drawer that contained the decoy bras and underwear. She shoved them aside and pulled out her two most cherished items.
She didn’t care if Keigel thought her crazy as she squeezed a dime-size amount of her mother’s scent and rubbed it on her face and neck. She took her father’s cologne and spritzed it about her head and shoulders as if anointing herself. She inhaled deeply. Then inhaled again. Deeper, infusing herself with her parents, praying for them to give her strength and courage to see this thing with Paul to the bitter end.
“Fine,” she sighed, closing up her closet and pushing past him. “You’re driving.”
“And you?”
“I’m going to figure out how not to get you killed.”
72
AFTER
Keigel sped down the interstate, following the directions Nena had typed into the GPS.
“This place is going to be out there in the boondocks,” he warned.
“He wouldn’t want witnesses.”
Keigel shot her a glance. “Yeah, for the ambush he’s probably set up for you.” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “So what’s the plan again?”
She laid out the simple plan for him again. He didn’t like it. Thought she was going in blind and wanted to call in his crew as backup.
“I didn’t want you to come along, much less any of your people.”
His nostrils flared in frustration, and he exited off Route 75 to Bumfuck, Florida, where they probably were going to die.
She’d procrastinated long enough. It was time to do what she should have weeks ago. Come clean to her mother. She enabled the secured line and dialed her mother’s number, then listened as the phone rang on the other side. It was four in the morning in London, where her mother had taken her dad to finish recuperating two days prior.
“Darling.”
Her mother’s voice sent relief through her. She was safe. Nena hadn’t been sure how far Paul had gone in his assault against her.
“Hey, Mum,” she said. “How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine, his usual bossy self. I’m fine.” She paused. “But how are you? Where are you?”
“On my way to make things right.”
There was a weighty pause on her mother’s end. Then finally, “So it is true. All Elin has just told me? You can’t wait for reinforcements?”
“I can’t wait. It has to be done now and for good this time. He’s done too much, hurt too many. I can’t have him hurt you or Elin—or Dad, more than he already has.”
“And these Americans? The Baxters? You’re protecting them too.”
Nena stared out at the night sky, nearly pitch black along this narrow road to a secluded home. The car’s headlights were barely enough to illuminate their way. “They’re part of my family now.” She swallowed, hoping her mother would understand. “I’m sorry I have to go against the Council on this.”
“Darling?”
“Yes, Mum?” She was prepared to go against her mother, against the Tribe, and against whoever else stood in her way. She’d gladly end up like Goon, ignominiously retired, if it meant the people she loved were free of Paul forever.
“Kill the son of a bitch. Consider it a personal directive from High Council.”
“Thank you, Mum.” She released a deep breath, feeling as if every burden had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. It was time for recompense.
73
AFTER
The winding drive to Paul’s estate, conveniently located away from curious eyes, did nothing to allay Nena’s unease at going in without any intel. The house had only recently been bought, still had that new-house smell.