Inevitable Detour (Inevitability Book 1)(71)

Vincent’s eyes flash fearfully to Farren. He appears worried that he might be next. “I did as you requested,” Vincent says. His tone is placating. He clearly fears Farren. “I got here as soon as I could,” he continues. “And if I hadn’t stepped in immediately, like I did, Eric would have shot you.”

“He would have tried,” Farren corrects. “But, yes, you did well. And for that, I thank you.”

Farren extends his hand, and Vincent shakes it. I can’t help but ask incredulously, “You two know each other?”

Haven echoes my sentiments and adds, “Yeah, what the hell?”

Farren explains. “Vincent works for the government. He’s on a special task force that’s trying to take down the same organization I’ve been working on destroying. That means he’s on our side.”

“You’ve known this all along?” Haven asks, sounding wounded.

Farren’s expression softens. “Of course not, Hav. I became privy to that information only a couple of days ago.”

I have so many questions, but just then Rick moans from where he’s still tied to a pipe on the other side of the room.

“What the f*ck?” Farren grinds out. He hadn’t noticed Rick until now. While Vincent keeps his gun trained on the fallen Eric, Farren walks over to his friend. Rick is coming to, and Farren asks him a few questions as he unties him. They speak in tones too low for me to catch any words, but I assume Farren is making sure Rick is okay.

A few minutes later, Farren returns to where Haven and I are bound. “Will Rick be all right?” Haven asks her brother.

“Yes,” Farren replies, kindness in his tone, “he’s going to be fine.”

Haven lets out a breath, while Farren squats down behind our chairs. He unties the ropes holding us, quickly and adeptly. Seconds later, Haven and I are free. After standing and stretching out our arms and legs, we turn to Farren. He pulls his sister to him, hugging her gently. I receive a hug next, one that is more intimate and lasts a little longer.

“I missed you,” I whisper.

Farren is holding me close, so close, and I take the opportunity to inhale his delightful scent that I missed so much. He leans back so he can kiss my lips lightly.

“We have a lot to talk about, Essa.” He sighs. “But not here. Not now.”

There’s warmth in his gaze, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say it is warmth born of love. But then again, maybe Farren does love me. I’ve felt as if he does—especially the night before he left. But I’ve not yet heard it from his lips. In any case, I hope he loves me. Because if I wasn’t 100 percent sure before, I am now—I love Farren beyond a shadow of a doubt. I want nothing more than to tell him, like, right this second. But like he just said, this is not the time or place to be professing feelings.

Eric makes a noise, like a labored breath, and I glance his way. His nose is askew but no longer bleeding, mostly due to the fact that he’s grabbed up the rag that was in my mouth and stemmed the flow of blood with it. He tries to sit up, but Vincent makes him remain as he is, lying prone on the cold, hard floor. Serves him right, I think. Bastard.

It’s then that I realize Farren has divulged Vincent’s identity to Eric. “That can’t be right,” I mumble to myself.

Farren cocks an eyebrow. “What can’t be right, Essa?”

“Eric knows who Vincent is now,” I reply. “Why would you let him know that?”

Farren smiles sadly. He trails a finger down my injured cheek, so lightly I barely feel a thing. “We need to get you some ice,” he whispers.

He’s deflecting, and I know the reason. Eric will not be leaving this room. He’s going to die in this basement. “Are you going to kill him?” I ask Farren, my voice barely audible. I just don’t know if I can witness that.

From over on the basement steps, a man answers, “No, I am.”

I peer past Farren, who doesn’t bother to turn around. That action indicates to me that this man I just now noticed has accompanied Farren. He must have been waiting at the top of the stairs until Eric was subdued.

“Who is that?” Haven asks, reminding me that she’s watching this drama unfold just as I am.

“I know who it is,” I reply softly.

I feel Haven’s eyes snap to me after the words fall from my mouth. Vincent’s head jerks my way as well. His eyes are questioning. But it’s Farren who appears the most surprised by my admission.

I lift my eyes to him. “It’s Mr. Barnes, right?”

Farren nods, confirming my statement. But his confirmation is unnecessary. I would have recognized the man who is now at the base of the stairs anywhere. Hell, I was just gazing at his picture yesterday. Quinton Barnes looks the same as in the glossy photo. He’s a sophisticated man of roughly sixty, dark hair streaked with gray, classic features.

“He’s here to avenge the death of his daughter,” Vincent states, as if to inform anyone who hasn’t figured it out yet. “In fact, he flew in last night for this express purpose.”

Haven and I glance over at each other at the same time. Her aquamarine eyes convey what I am thinking: Wow, Farren is going to allow this powerful man he works for to commit murder. Mr. Barnes is about to take out one of the bad guys who hurt and ultimately killed his Annemarie.