Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(54)

“Overwhelm how?”

“Family protects family,” I say. “They live together and they bleed together.” I make a few keystrokes, ensuring the chatroom is secure. “And at this moment in time, we should be talking to Asher.” I turn the screen slightly, letting her see what I type: Checking in. All secure here. Anything I need to know about?

The reply is instant: Asher here. Aside from Jacob talking my ear off, it’s ridiculously quiet right now. No *s to hate on or hurt. Interior footage clear. Exterior footage clear.

“In other words,” I say, glancing at Myla. “Jacob is, as usual, saying absolutely nothing, and Asher is bored out of his f*cking mind.”

I type my reply: Heads up. We have a pizza delivery coming.

Asher: Did you order us one?

I type: Get your own.

Asher’s reply is instant: Fucker.





Myla laughs. “So much love, I can’t stand it.”

“Families give that special kind of love,” I say, then type: I’m off until morning check in.

Asher replies with: Copy that. Enjoy the pizza. We won’t.

Myla laughs again, and while I hate to tamp down on her lighter mood, I key up the security video from the night of the helicopter crash, with good reason. She needs to know she was never forgotten or alone, and she isn’t now.

“I want you to see this,” I say, turning the screen toward her. “This is what convinced me you were alive and every time I doubted that, I watched again.” I punch the play button and the short security video begins to roll, ending with a close up of her eyes. I hit a freeze frame, then zoom in on her face. “That look,” I say, “is why I’m here. I’ve watched this footage a million times, and it always got to me. I know you’re telling whoever was watching that nothing was as it seemed. I know you were pleading for help.”

She faces me, looking confused, her gaze searching mine. “How could you know what I was thinking and feeling when we’d never met?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Maybe it was all the years of reading people when I was undercover. Maybe it was just something in your eyes that spoke to me, but whatever the case, and what’s important is that I did know. I kept looking until I found you.”

“But you said Kara doesn’t know I’m alive.”

“She doesn’t.” I look at my watch, noting the nine o’clock hour. “Or she might soon, but not until tonight. Once I knew Alvarez was alive, though, I knew it would only be a matter of time before Kara found out. That’s when I got back up.”

“But not Kara?”

“I still didn’t know you were alive,” I say, “And I didn’t want to create false hope in her. She was devastated after the crash and your supposed death. And I mean inconsolable, Myla. Blake was her lifeline, and eventually, he made the decision to pull her away from anything to do with Alvarez.”

“And my sister agreed to that?” she says, sounding wounded, and then seeming to catch herself, she adds, “I can’t believe I just let the idea of her moving on and surviving hurt me when keeping her away from me and safe was my goal.”

“You felt alone a long time, Myla,” I say. “It’s normal to feel what you just felt. And Kara didn’t give up on you. She thought you were dead.”

“I know she did,” she says. “And I’m glad she backed off, but yes. The idea of her not looking for me illogically hurts. You didn’t give up.”

“Had I told her even in passing that I believed you were alive, she wouldn’t have either. And Kara and Blake are too personally involved with Alvarez to hunt him safely. He kidnapped you and killed Blake’s ex-fiancé. They’d both gone rogue and undercover in his operation when they met.”

“Wait. Kara was undercover in Alvarez’s operation?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “Right after you went missing. Blake even got his chance to kill Alvarez. He held a gun to his head and Kara talked him out of pulling the trigger. And that was about you. She was convinced he had you, keeping you alive, and if he was gone, you would be, too. Unfortunately, he escaped, ironically, faking his death then as well.”

“When was this?”

“A year ago.”

She inhales and lets it out. “Kara was right. He has an odd fascination with me that kept me alive. Had they killed him then, I’d be…I don’t want to think about what I’d be or where I’d be. Maybe I’d be one of those other girls, strung out on heroin and with a different man every hour. Maybe I’d be dead.”

“Without you, we wouldn’t have a chance to save these women. That’s an amazing, brave thing you’ve done.”

“I’ve been clinging to the idea of saving them,” she confesses. “It’s become what I think of as “my plan”, and that plan became life for me. It kept me going.”

My fingers brush her cheek. “That was a damn good reason to keep going, sweetheart. You are-”

Our doorbell rings, and my head jerks up, while Myla surprises me by turning instinctively to the computer, and tabbing to a shot of our front door, where Les is now holding our pizza. “What the f*ck is he up to?” I murmur, already on my feet and walking to a suitcase, where I remove a Glock.