Fractured Freedom: Chapter 4
Dante
“So, we got a problem,” Izzy grumbled, and her voice came out strained.
“No shit. You’re calling me from jail.” I chuckled and scratched my head, looking over another contract the government had sent that day.
“Right.” I heard rustling and knew Izzy was probably trying to make sure no one was listening. “So, I can’t go into detail, but …” She cleared her throat. That was never good. Izzy and I had worked together long enough for me to know that when she hesitated, something was definitely off. “Delilah may be here with me.”
“Delilah?” I whispered her name, confused. Yes, I worked with Izzy, and when I looked at her, I thought of her identical twin. But I’d learned not to dwell.
I’d forced myself not to dwell. She’d been the one that got away and the one I still considered dragging back to me.
When we sat in silence for another five seconds, the name bellowed out of me with rage. “Delilah? How the fuck does that happen, Izzy?”
“Well, you know I can’t discuss that with you right now.” She scoffed like I was an imbecile. Izzy didn’t sugarcoat her attitude at all, and she really should have because this was beyond being the loose cannon that she sometimes was.
“You broke protocol.”
“I didn’t. Look, I can’t talk about it. You know this.” She sounded irritated.
I’d vouched for this girl time and time again. When those I worked with asked if I was sure she could do this job, I didn’t hesitate. She was a part of my crew, always had been.
When she got out of juvie, her parents got her into a drug rehab program, and I’d talked to her about school. She pursued an associate’s degree with the knowledge that I could get her a job if she held her grades. She worked hard, but everyone’s trust had been broken. Her going undercover in the wrong crowds for me to sniff out drug operations was risky, but Izzy had a knack for it.
She’d made a name for herself, and we became a team.
“You got balls being condescending when you got your sister locked up with you,” I growled. This was a big operation. Someone in Puerto Rico was moving masses of cocaine, and we needed to figure out how. She was just getting into the ring and now this.
“In my defense, I tried to take the blame. She took the blame too.”
“She shouldn’t even have been on the trip with you in the first place.” I fisted the contract in my hand. Delilah Hardy was my little lamb. She was so damn innocent that there was no way she could survive a night in a facility. She wasn’t equipped to deal with jail time.
“I know.” She gulped audibly.
I turned to my cousin, twice removed, and held the phone away from my mouth. “Get to the airport.”
“Yes, good. I was going to say I definitely need you to handle that because I have to stay in for a few weeks,” Izzy mumbled out.
Did she just say what I think she did? “I’m not leaving you in a damn jail cell, Izzy.”
“You have to!” She sounded desperate. That was her real problem. Izzy wasn’t addicted to drugs anymore. She was addicted to the job. “I’m this close.”
“You fucked up.” She’d fucked up royally, but I wasn’t about to rub it in right now. “It’s not safe for you in there.”
“I can take care of myself. Just take care of Delilah, okay? She’s— She won’t last.”
“No shit,” I grumbled. Delilah was the opposite of Izzy. She was good and quiet like the lamb I called her.
Except for when I was fucking her.
Jesus. My dick was already responding to that thought and it made me want to punch something. She’d been sweet and innocent and had done everything right until me.
I should have felt guilty for that, but instead my cock grew by the second.
“You know what to do.” Then Izzy hung up on me.
That girl was the biggest pain in my ass. Well, except for her sister, who I pretty much would have done anything for. Lilah brought me peace when everything else in my life was hell.
Until she ghosted me.
FUCK.
“So, guess we’re going to Puerto Rico,” Cade announced, his bright grin contrasted the darkness of his eyes, his neck full of tattoos, and his hair. Cade embodied a black hole except when he was grinning like a fool. Now, he just looked downright eerie.
“Why the hell are you smiling?”
“Well, I ain’t got shit to do here for a while. My brother’s holed up with his wife, and I need some fun in my life. You look like you’re in literal pain, which means this is going to be fun.”
“You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You’re supposed to enjoy the damn internet, not my demise.”
Cade didn’t interfere much with us in reality. He got lost in virtual worlds, codes, and algorithms most of the time. He was one of the best hackers in the world but, even so, kept a level head.
That alone proved to me that there was something completely off about him. Most people who spent that much time isolating themselves from the real world ended up in a mental fog or got depressed.
I’d seen men back in the military struggle with it. Their unhappiness with deployments, PTSD, and physical and mental illness led to them disappearing into a space that wasn’t real. And we lost them, time and time again.
I’d been lost once too. That’s what stopped me from backing away from Cade when others had.
“My fun can be telling Izzy she fucked up,” he said.
“You won’t be telling her anything, because she’s staying in until someone else bails her out. We don’t want to blow her cover.”
He sighed like I was personally deflating his balloon. The dumbass had a hard-on for pissing that girl off.
“She was flying with her sister, and when they got separated and questioned, fucking Delilah took all the blame.”
“‘Fucking Delilah’?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. “Do you happen to know this Delilah?”
“I know Izzy’s whole family. They grew up down the street.” I remembered their family could be heard barreling up the block, screaming like a pack of banshees in the night, there were so many of them.
“But you know Delilah better than the rest, huh?”
I didn’t answer his stupid question. But he was damn right I did.