The Fixer (The Fixer #1)(83)

“She’s not my sister.” I was staring at the photograph—at a college-aged Ivy and a younger Adam—so I didn’t get to see the expression that crossed Vivvie’s face in response to my words. “She’s my mother. I didn’t know.” My eyes blurred with tears. I blinked them away and kept staring at the photo. “She was a teenager when she had me. She said my father was military.”

Adam was military.

You’re not the only one who loves her, he’d told me the night before. But I know where your sister would want me, and that’s here. With you.

I hadn’t questioned why Ivy would want Adam with me. Adam, not Bodie, even though Bodie was the one I saw every day.

I hadn’t questioned the way that Adam, Ivy, and Bodie all seemed so intent on keeping me away from Adam’s father.

I thought it was because he was powerful and dangerous if crossed. But what if that wasn’t it? My father is very family-oriented. Adam had said those words in a way that wasn’t complimentary.

“Tess?”

It took me a moment to realize that Adam was the one who’d said my name, not Vivvie. He walked over to me and saw the photograph in my hand.

“You and Ivy have known each other a long time,” I said, my throat tightening around the words. “Are you . . . Are you and I . . .” Say it, Tess. Just say it. “Are you my—”

“Vivvie, your aunt is downstairs.” Adam interrupted my question. “And my father’s visit has put your bodyguard on edge.”

With one last glance in my direction, Vivvie was out the door, leaving Adam and me alone. I stared at him, searching for similarities in our features, the way I’d looked at my own reflection, searching for Ivy.

Adam’s hair was brown. His eyes were blue, but there was something familiar about the shape.

“Adam.” I forced his name out. “Ivy said my father was young. She said he was in the military. You two have known each other for a very long time.” My mouth felt like cotton. My tongue felt too thick for my mouth. “When I first got here, I heard you say that Ivy shouldn’t have brought me to DC because she wasn’t on good terms with your father. You didn’t want me to meet him.” I paused, then corrected myself. “You never wanted him to meet me.”

No response. Adam wasn’t telling me I was wrong.

“Ivy’s missing,” I said, choking on the words, “and you’re here. With me.” I ripped off the bandage, rushing out the words. “Are you my father?”

“Tess.” Adam’s voice was thick with emotion.

That wasn’t a no.

“Ivy’s the one who should be having this conversation with you,” Adam said. “We’ll tell you everything, I promise, just—”

Just let us get her back, I finished.

“And what if we don’t get her back?” I asked. “What if we never get her back?”

What if, what if, what if—

Before Adam could answer, there was a knock. Moving briskly, Adam steered me to the side of the room. His hand went to his side as he went to answer the door, and I realized that he was wearing a gun.

Another knock. Adam looked through the peephole. Then he opened the door.

“Captain Keyes,” President Nolan greeted him. “We need to talk.”





CHAPTER 60

The president had two Secret Service agents with him. After my experience with Kostas, the president’s security detail would never fade into the background for me again.

“Mr. President.” Adam led the group into the living room. I eased out from my spot behind the wall.

“Have a seat, Captain,” the president said, taking a seat himself.

Adam sat, every muscle in his body taut. I stayed standing. The president removed something from his jacket lapel and handed it to Adam.

“You might want to ask the girl to leave the room,” he said, the words residing somewhere between an order and a suggestion.

It probably said something about Adam’s mental state that he chose to interpret it as a suggestion. He didn’t tell me I could stay, but he didn’t tell me to leave, either.

It probably said something about my mental state that I chose to interpret that as an invitation to come closer.

The folder the president had handed Adam didn’t have much in it: a single photograph. Ivy was holding a newspaper—today’s newspaper. There was a single strip of duct tape over her mouth.

And strapped to her chest was a bomb.

“When?” Adam said. That was all he got out, one word.

“It arrived via e-mail this morning,” the president replied. “We have our top analysts working on it. We’ll find her.”

“And if you don’t?” I asked, taking a step forward.

A photograph like that would have been accompanied by a ransom demand. A deadline. A threat.

“Kostas told you what he wants,” I said, trying not to think about how I had felt, strapped to a chair, watching the time I had left slip away. “He wants you to pardon his son.”

President Nolan neither confirmed nor denied my statement. He kept his gaze trained on Adam. “What Ivy’s captor does or does not want is immaterial, Captain Keyes. We’re taking care of this.”

The use of Adam’s military title was a reminder that we weren’t on even footing in this room. This was the president, and when it came to how he dealt with threats, this wasn’t a democracy.