Inevitable Detour (Inevitability Book 1)(52)

But, no, I can’t say anything. Not when we have this important—and potentially dangerous—meeting to contend with.

Resolving that I’ll talk with Farren later, I lift my chin, my focus renewed on what needs to be done first. “What do you need me to do?” I inquire.

Farren explains the logistics of the meeting. We’re to meet Dawson at a home he owns near the Mexican border. “It’s a point of operations,” Farren says somberly.

“Did he hold Haven there?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. Rick has spoken with her concerning all that went down. He reported back to me that Haven was almost always with Eric and Vincent. If not, then she was with guards.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “And for as bad as all those men are, they are nothing compared to Dawson. Thankfully, Rick extricated her before she was moved to the house that we’re going to. It’s the last stop before the captured women are sent to Mexico.”

“Where do they go from there?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Central America, South America, all over, Essa.”

“That’s sick,” I say, disgusted.

“That’s why I’ve been trying to help stop it from happening,” he says quietly.

“Have you ever been to this house we’re going to?”

“I have,” Farren replies curtly.

Recalling how Farren told me he’s had to do things he’s not proud of—bad things—I decide not to delve for details.

And he doesn’t volunteer any.

Instead, he says, “I can’t give you any weapons prior to the meeting. Dawson will know if you’re armed. But I can’t leave you completely unprotected, either. I’ll tuck a .38 under the passenger seat. It’s easier to handle than the .45.”

“Um, okay… But you’ll be with me, right?” I shakily inquire.

“Yes, but I’ll need to talk with Dawson privately at some point.”

Confused, I say, “Yeah, but if we’re in his house, how will a gun in the car help me?”

“We’re not going into that house,” Farren states, his voice firm. “We’re meeting Dawson at a specified point along the driveway. The damn thing is about a mile long; we’ll rendezvous there. I plan to talk to him in his car. If things start to go badly when I’m with him, I need you to retrieve the gun.” His eyes meet mine. “Don’t be afraid to use it, Essa.”

“Okay,” I croak out.

Farren gently brushes my hair over my shoulder. When it won’t stay put, due to the breeze, he tucks the wayward strands behind my ear. “There’s one more thing,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“When we meet Dawson, I need for you to be completely submissive to me.”

Clarity rushes over me. “Oh my God, he thinks I’m some girl you abducted. Like, for this fake operation of yours.”

“That’s what he thinks,” Farren confirms. “And it’s important that he continues to believe I took you against your will. If we can pull this off, he’ll believe the rogue story.”

“Yeah, but,” I say slowly, “if you tell him you’ve reconsidered, he’s going to question why I’m still with you.”

Farren smiles, and this time it’s genuine. “I’ll make him think that you got to me. That I’m keeping you for myself.”

Have I gotten to you? Are you keeping me for yourself? I long to ask these questions, but things are complicated when it comes to this burgeoning relationship. I’m not even sure Farren will remain in the country after all this is over. He could be off to anywhere—to Asia, South America, Central America. Who knows?

“What about Mr. Barnes?” I query. “Does he expect you to continue working for him?”

“I’m not sure, Essa. There may be another angle in the operation where I can be of help.”

“You’ll keep doing this, then?” I whisper. “You’ll continue to go after these guys?”

He sighs. “I have to, Essa. It’s important to me.”

“It is a lot of money,” I mumble.

Farren hears me and says, “It’s not about the money. I’m committed to helping Barnes, especially since Haven’s been caught up in this mess.”

I want to question why he’s so committed. This is about more than Haven. This is more than seeing things through. And it’s more than a cause of some sort.

But what is it? What could be driving Farren to this level of commitment?

Unfortunately, I don’t have the nerve to interrogate him, so I just softly say, “Does that mean you’ll be in some other country, like, indefinitely?”

I stifle a sob and close his eyes. When I open them, he touches the side of my face. “Essalin…”

I grab up his hand. “I’m sorry.” My voice cracks. “I know you said no promises, or whatever, but I just…I just don’t want this”—I wave a hand between us—“to end.”

“I care for you, Essa,” he tells me. “I do.”

“Okay, how much?” I blurt out. His brows go up, and I amend, “I mean, I know we haven’t known each other all that long. But spending every day and night together like we have kind of throws the rule book right out the window, you know?”