Everything I read mentioned his pro bono work, though it was always information the author of the article received from the businesses he helped, and not the man himself. Piers always grew tightlipped when it came to his charitable works. I only found one interview in which he spoke about it at all. Early in his career, the first year he’d been able to provide a substantial amount of free legal service, he’d been quoted as saying something to the effect it was a great privilege to be able to give a boost to those who needed it because he would never forget those who gave him a chance when he direly needed one.
While doing all the research on Piers only made me more attracted to him, I couldn’t help but wonder why and how it had been so easy for the Organization to have me believe the exact opposite. Had I really disliked him so much a few months ago? Simply because I thought that he’d left me behind years and years ago?
Had I been so blind and naive I took what I was told as the gospel? More importantly, why had it never occurred to me to question any of it or even to fact check one little thing? How had the Organization thought to keep me from learning the truth?
But mostly, I could put unpleasant thoughts such as the Organization and its members out of my head. I thought it was harmless. Out of sight, out of mind thing. An I’ll-deal-with-it-later mindset. Looking back, it was one of the stupidest things I’d ever done.
About three weeks after the day we discovered we’d been lied to, Piers and I were returning to my apartment because we had plans to spend the weekend in New York City. Piers had hinted that he had tickets for a Broadway play, and I insisted I needed a certain pair of shoes from my closet. He looked at me as if I’d spoken in Latin.
“It’s like this,” I told him while I unlocked the door of my apartment. “Going to a Broadway play has been on my bucket list since I was old enough to know what Broadway was. And bucket list activities require a certain wardrobe, you know?”
Piers rolled his eyes. “I hadn’t heard of that requirement.”
“That’s because I just made it up.” I opened the door and motioned for him to enter first.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, reaching for me. I giggled and raised my head for a kiss.
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for the past month.”
Piers and I both spun around at the sound of the man’s voice coming from my living room. In a move I barely noticed, Piers shoved himself in front of me, while drawing a gun I hadn’t known he had from his jacket. Piers thought the man was a mere intruder, but I knew he was much more.
Adam Barnes, the head of the Organization, was sitting in my living room, totally unconcerned that he had a firearm pointed at him. I’d heard of the man. Everyone who had a part in the Organization had. And while we all knew who he was from pictures, I’d never known anyone who’d actually seen him. That he was in my living room was very, very bad.
“The show of force is noted but unnecessary, Mr. Worthington,” Barnes said.
“How do you know my name?” Piers asked.
“I’ll defer that question to the woman by your side.” Barnes said. “Hello, Brigitta. You’ve been very difficult to get in contact with over the past few weeks. As a result, you made me leave London in order to come to this dreadful city for the sole purpose to track you down. You know how much I hate to leave London.”
“Do you know this man?” Piers asked me, not taking his eyes from Barnes.
I opened my mouth, unsurprised when nothing came out.
“I expected more from you, Brigitta,” Barnes said. “Now, I suggest you pull yourself together long enough to tell Mr. Worthington he has about ten seconds to put the weapon down before things get messy.”
Barnes snapped his fingers, and almost instantly a red dot that had to be a sniper’s sight appeared on Piers’s chest.
Piers’s eyes grew wide in horror, and he dropped the gun he’d been holding. The red dot disappeared as soon as it had appeared.
“What the hell, Bri?” he asked, still watching where the dot had been.
“Yes, Bri,” Barnes said, clearly amused. “What the hell?”
My body had not stopped shaking since I’d realized who was in my apartment and what it meant. Worse, I was frozen in place. It was as if too many commands given at the same time had overloaded my system and rendered my body useless. Even as I stood there, trying to get some part, any part, of me to work, the commands fired themselves at me.
Run.
Walk.
Talk.
Shout.
Kick.
Scream.
But no, I stood there uselessly. One man staring at me in confusion. One watching me with a look of pure evil delight. How long we stayed like that, I wasn’t sure.
Barnes stood from where he’d been sitting on my couch. “I’m extremely disappointed, Brigitta. Not only with the way you botched up this job but also with the silent treatment you’ve displayed tonight. It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway in case my being here wasn’t clear enough, you’re fired. Consider yourself fortunate I have a soft spot for you, and for that reason only, you will not end up like Benjamin Douglas.”
“Wait. What?” Piers asked, no doubt surprised that the name that had been haunting him, evading him for months, dropped so casually from the lips of a stranger in my apartment.
But of course Barnes had no intention of either repeating what he’d said or answering questions. He walked past Piers, giving him a slap on the shoulder as he would if talking with an old friend. “Very nice to finally meet you, Mr. Worthington. Perhaps the next time our paths cross, and they will, we can chat a bit more. As it stands now, I’m sure Bri will be more than able to answer any questions you have.”
Giving no hint of how he’d gotten inside my apartment, Barnes simply turned and walked out of the door we’d left unlocked when we entered moments ago.
“I can’t believe it,” I finally said, then immediately shut my mouth because those had to have been the dumbest words I’d ever spoken.
Judging by Piers’s expression, he shared the same belief, but another glance showed he was more than a little angry. In fact, though I knew he would never hurt me, I took a step back. He was angrier than I’d ever seen.
“Really, Bri?” he asked. “Tell me. What part do you find to be the most unbelievable? That a strange man made his way into your apartment while his buddy, the sniper, covered his back from somewhere outside? That he supposedly flew from London to Boston to fire you for some job you botched up? Or was it how he dropped Benjamin Douglas into the conversation, so by-your-leave he made it sound as if you personally knew the guy I’ve spent months searching for?”
They were all rhetorical questions, of course. He didn’t expect me to answer, so I kept quiet, but in my head I answered as loud as I could.
All of it, I screamed inside. All of it was unbelievable.
“Are you going to say anything useful?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, blinking back tears because I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t deserve to cry. Not about this.
Piers stood in front of me, arms crossed. “Tell me everything. Start from the beginning.”
Chapter 18