“I was trying to figure out what to do,” he replies calmly. “I was trying to keep you safe while salvaging all the hard work I’ve done for two years to bring this fucker down.”
“No,” I snap, pointing an accusing finger. “You need my help to bring him down. What—now you think I’ll just be your little government witness who will get up on the stand and testify against him for making me steal those nuclear codes? Well, you got another think—”
“That’s not it,” Griff barks. “I mean, yes… you have information, but I have so much more than what you could give me. I don’t need you to make my case, Bebe. I’m on the verge of having enough to take this fucker down for the rest of his life, along with the other people involved. What you have is small potatoes. Frankly, I’m not fucking interested in it. The government already prosecuted that crime.”
That effectively shuts me up, a stark reminder I was the actual criminal there, even if I was doing it at Anatoly’s command.
I move over to Dozer to stand beside him. I’m so furious right now that Griff lied to me that I don’t even know what to think.
“So you’re here, insinuating yourself into Bebe’s life, and you—the FBI—had no clue Anatoly was part of the nuclear-code crime Bebe got nabbed for?” Kynan asks.
“I put it together after I found out who Bebe is,” Griff maintains with a curt nod. “But that’s not why the FBI is investigating him.”
“What exactly are you investigating him for?” Kynan asks.
“I can’t tell you exact details,” Griff maintains. “But the main case is for a ransomware scam.”
Dozer snorts. “Seriously? Ransomware? You stalk Bebe and scare her half to death for a half-wit hacker who infects people’s computers with ransomware?”
“He’s stolen over a hundred million dollars from people,” Griff replies tightly. “It’s not a light crime.”
“Holy shit.” Kynan whistles low. “That’s a lot of money.”
“He’s the highest priority in the Cyber division right now,” Griff asserts. “And I cannot let this thing with Bebe get in the way.”
“This thing with Bebe?” Cruce growls, taking a threatening step toward Griffin. Kynan holds an arm out, silently telling him to stand down. “You were hired to kill her. You lied to her. It’s more than just a ‘thing’. We can’t trust you.”
“Except I’m here now—blowing my cover—telling you the truth,” Griff grits out through his teeth, clearly getting fed up. “Bebe’s life is in danger. Anatoly wants her dead. If I don’t deliver, someone else will come for her. And I have a huge case I’ve poured my heart and soul into—my fucking life for two years—and I need to salvage that at the same time.”
“And just how do you suggest that happens?” Dozer asks.
Griff directs his attention to me, and for the first time, I see a bit of remorse there.
“We have to kill Bebe,” he states.CHAPTER 9Griffin“Come again?” Kynan growls.
It’s clear all the men in this room are super protective of Bebe, but Kynan’s the one I need to watch out for. I’ve done enough research about him to know he holds powerful connections in Washington. He’s also just as big as me, and I’m sure he wouldn’t think twice about breaking my neck if he thought I was a true hazard to Bebe.
“I need Anatoly to think I carried out my mission,” I clarify to the group. “So we need to fake her death. Enough to convince him that she’s not a threat so I can return to my work in bringing him down.”
“So you fake Bebe’s death… then what?” Dozer asks.
My attention moves across the room to the man who had walked in with Bebe. He’s been watching me with keen speculation. I have no fucking clue who this dude is. He’s built like a linebacker, has the face of a runway model, and yet, within his eyes, I can tell he’s intellectually superior to every person in this room, including Bebe, who’s pretty fucking smart.
“Then I can go back to New York where he’s located. My entire case stems around his business dealings there. The whole point of me going undercover was to get close to him, and I’m as close as anyone.”
“And just what am I supposed to do?” Bebe asks, her voice a tad shrill. “I mean… once you kill me off, just what the fuck am I supposed to do? Because I clearly can’t lead my normal life when I’m dead.”
“You’re going to have to go into hiding,” I say gently. “Until we can arrest him.”
“Oh, fuck you,” she yells, something akin to hatred blazing in her eyes. “I was a prisoner for seven years. Do you think it’s acceptable to take away my freedom again?”
Nobody answers her. Anything I say won’t seem logical or feasible to her. I get her anger.