I told the man who pulled my strings that I would run a background check on the John, pick through his finances, and trace where the text to the wife originated. I also promised to dig up whatever I could on the hooker. I refrained from calling her that because I didn’t have the time or the patience for a lecture on how people did what they had to do to survive in the Point, and no one should judge those choices. It was a common refrain in this city. People were always something more than a simple label. There was always a story behind how they had earned that title, but I wasn’t the kind of guy who ever cared about the story. Probably because I spent so much of my time trying to forget my own. I wanted to be the big, broody guy who was good with computers, nothing more and nothing less. Simple. However, since I’d started tangling with Noe, it was clear some stories couldn’t remain unspoken. Sometimes they were told without words. History and memories were shared through unblinking looks, soft touches, and surprising sweetness. She’d barely scratched the surface of where I’d been or what I’d done, but she was a girl who had the skills to look deeper, unearthing the truth. I couldn’t be anything but who I was with her, because she was the one person who could uncover the lies I’d been living for so long.
When I made my way back into the borrowed loft, she was on the computer again and didn’t bother to look up when I entered. She was scowling at something on the screen, her eyes flicking in my direction as I got closer.
“The motel where Goddard’s goons held me just burned to the ground. It’s all over the local news. Three people died because the fire suppression system didn’t come on—shocker—and because of those fucking bars on the windows. He’s covering his tracks. He even released a statement saying the loss of life is a tragedy and his heart goes out to the victims’ families. He’s such a prick. He followed that garbage up with the fact that losing such a disreputable business is no great loss to the community.” Her mouth was pulled into a furious, tight line and her dark eyes were alight with anger. “I can’t believe anyone re-elected him.”
I braced my hands on the edge of the marble counter and looked at her with grim determination. “That’s why we have to stop him.”
She let out a bitter laugh and pushed the red part of her hair off her forehead. “I’m all atwitter with anticipation to hear exactly how you plan to do that, Stark. The more I think about it, the more he seems untouchable. The man killed three innocent people to cover up the fact he kidnapped me. He’s ruthless.”
“He’s greedy. He wants to keep his standing in the community, his good name. He wants to keep his title and his money. But more than any of that, he wants to keep his secrets. We’re going to take each and every one of those things from him. We’re going to burn his entire world from the inside out.” My hands curled into fists on top of the marble; her eyes widened a fraction as she stared at me. My anger was happy to finally have a clear target, a pointed direction to blow. The heated vengeance wasn’t curling wildly and furiously around everything in my path anymore. It had a goal, a purpose, and I no longer felt like I needed to get a grip on it. I wanted to let it run wild and see what it would do.
“How?” The word escaped on a breath, and I couldn’t blame her for needing details and not having blind faith in my ability to come through for her. I’d already let her down.
I cocked my head to the side and watched her carefully as I told her, “You know what’s worse than death for a man like Goddard?” She shook her head, eyes curious, mouth still frowning and unsure. “The worst thing a man like Goddard can imagine is being invisible, being irrelevant. It’s torture for a man like him not to have the world falling at his feet, to have everything he’s ever wanted within reach but not able to touch any of it. We’re going to leave the walls of his empire standing but turn everything on the inside to ash. We’re going to kill him . . . digitally.” We were going to wipe any trace of the man off the face of the Earth but leave the old, tired, helpless vessel afloat in his sea of corruption, constantly searching for a life raft from his previous conquests but unable to get a hold on any of them.
She blinked at me for a second and then cocked her head to the opposite side of mine. “Like steal his identity?”
I grunted, “Oh, so much more than that just taking his identify. We are going to electronically wipe him out of his life. Not before we take his money and ruin his reputation. We’re going to ensure Goddard has a sizeable life insurance policy, naming his stepdaughter as the sole beneficiary. We’re going to expose every bribe, payout, and misappropriated use of taxpayer money he’s ever touched during his time in office. Once we do that, we’re going to make sure the city and the rest of the world knows that he likes to play grab ass with young girls, proving he’s not the man they think he is. Once we have him on the ropes, we pull the cyber trigger and end his digital life. A signed death certificate trumps all other forms of identification. Goddard can show his ID, flash his passport, he can scream from the top of his lungs that he’s alive, but if there’s a death certificate on file, it doesn’t matter. That piece of paper means you’re dead, which means no access to your money, no credit, no travel, no mortgage, no marriage . . . no anything. You don’t exist, even if you are someone important. WE bring his life to a total standstill so that even while he’s in the public eye, he loses control of everything. We take it all away from him. We put him on the streets and teach him what it’s like to have no options and no power.” He was going to live the way Noe did, frightened and alone. I wanted him as desperate and afraid as she had been when she first sought me out for help.
Noe slowly reached out to close the computer in front of her and delicately cleared her throat. She tapped her bare, broken fingernails on the counter and watched me with unwavering eyes. “That’s . . . ambitious. Wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier to let one of those guys you work with take care of the problem? Couldn’t Nassir make Goddard go away with a whole lot less work?”
I bristled a little at the implication that I wasn’t capable of getting my hands dirty but took a deep breath and reminded myself I had yet to prove to her just how capable I could be. I’d had to prove myself before and I hated every second of it. Showing her I could fix this for her was a challenge that made a strange heat work through me and some sort of foreign anticipation course under my skin. They were new feelings, but unlike the anger and helplessness I’d felt before when dealing with her, these emotions weren’t unpleasant at all. This was what I was made to do, and vengeance was definitely going to be mine.
Her question was valid but shortsighted. “If I thought a bullet between the eyes was the right answer, I would be the one pulling the trigger. We can put Goddard in the ground, but then whomever comes behind him is going to be more careful, more watchful, and even better at keeping his secrets hidden. If we take Goddard down my way, he’s here, a walking reminder of what happens when you mess with the kind of people who can be just as ruthless and cold-blooded as most politicians tend to be. If we strip Goddard bare in front of the entire city, we set a precedent. We show everyone who is really calling the shots and it sure as hell isn’t anyone they voted for. That man and the promises he made don’t exist. And with our skills, he won’t exist.”
I couldn’t keep the edge out of my tone, the harshness. Of course, Noe picked it up and, of course, she remembered what I told her about my reluctance to tangle with any kind of government when I refused to help her.
God, what I wouldn’t give to do that entire day over again. I would be more careful with what I told her, more careful with her, in general. After our kiss, I knew she was all kinds of soft and sweet under her prickly shell. She was just as vulnerable as I was, and it was clear neither one of us was very good at keeping our battered armor in place when we were around each other. In fact, if she kept looking at me like I was the answer to every single question she ever had, there was a chance there would be nothing between us at all before the day was done. The image of her dripping wet, wearing nothing but defiance and bravery, tripped unwanted and unstoppable through my mind. It was my favorite memory to date, but it bothered me to no end that it was more powerful than the task at hand I needed to focus on. I needed to get shit done, not get my dick wet. That could come after we took Goddard down.
I’d never had to struggle to concentrate on one and not the other before. She was messing with the way I was wired and it didn’t feel much like an improvement.
“You mentioned not picking fights you weren’t sure you could win when I asked you for help with Goddard. What makes you so sure we can do this? What makes you think this is a fight we can win?” She didn’t sound doubtful, just careful and curious.
I blew out a long breath and closed my eyes so her earnest expression was blacked out. “Because I can’t afford to lose again.” Last time I lost it cost me everything. My freedom. My family. My sense of self. “I’m a whole lot smarter and stronger now, thanks to the guys I lost to last time.” They took me. They trained me. They changed me. I knew about winning at all costs thanks to them.