A/N: I owe so many apologies. It has been literally forever. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy and sane. Thank you for the messages.
Disclaimer: James Patterson owns the characters and any recognizable canon info.
M
"Calm down," I say, waving at Ella through the window. Nudge steps forward to unlock the door for them. "We needed a lawyer."
Iggy's shoulders visibly relax. "So, he's like, old as hell right?"
"I wouldn't consider him not an option," Nudge blurts before I can reassure him that Ella isn't going to fall in love the with lawyer. I wish he could see my face – instead, I make an incredulous look at Nudge. She blows it off breezily, pulling the large front door wide open for our guests.
The next few minutes are a flurry of greetings and hugs and quite a bit a shouting, due to the excitement. It has been a long time since any of us saw Ella. Fang has the decency to make it downstairs before Val or Ella had the chance to ask about him.
"Max, this is my friend Carter, he's agreed to look at the contract once it's finalized. I wanted to let you two discuss," she says this carefully, clearly checking my face to read my reaction.
She hadn't warned me she was bringing a stranger to the house, which does make me uncomfortable—but perhaps for the normal, post-traumatic reasons. And how paranoid do I have to be to hire a lawyer I do not trust?
"It's fine," I say to her, sending Carter a tight smile. "We can figure out sleeping arrangements later. I'll have to get the sleeping bags out."
He's not that old, probably Valencia's age, and if he's surprised to see six teenagers with wings he isn't showing it. Carter is tall for a normal person, but still quite a few inches under Iggy. He's nearly my eye level. His eyes are bright green and he takes in the foyer and the collection of bird kids, silent and untelling.
Val shakes her head, pulling off her coat. Carter moves to do the same, and says, "Actually, I have a flight in a few hours. Valencia said she would drive me to the airport." Nudge takes both coats and moves down the hall to the study with them, where we usually tuck them. She hesitates.
"You can go in, we haven't started," I say to her. No one says anything or moves. After a moment, Nudge heads into the study once more, still a tad hesitant.
About ten minutes after Iggy puts the last tray into the oven, we gather together in the very same study to discuss our agreement with the FBI. Angel and Iggy are insistent about joining, even though the study is not large enough for all five of us and we only talk business for about twenty minutes. I fold my wings in as I enter the room, hoping to save space that way – and not overwhelm our guest.
We walk Carter through the case, in the shortest and most succinct way possible. We also discuss the deal made with Alana. I hand over copies of our forms and the preliminary contract Alana had drafted.
"I can you give her contact information," I say, quickly reaching for her business card in the folder on the table. I set it in front of him, where the rest of the materials are piled on the desk and look from him to Val expectantly.
"Okay," he says cautiously. "What exactly are your expectations moving forward?"
I sigh and plop myself down into the cushy seat across the desk from him. Val re-settles in her seat. Iggy and Angel lounge behind them, Angel sitting on the credenza and Iggy leaning against the wall beside her.
"We're interested in what they found," I say finally. I had hoped this would be quick; hand over the materials and let Carter take the wheel. I'd jumped into the idea of trusting him with all of this because that was easier than sitting down with him and making sure I wanted to trust him.
But who am I to do that?
"The FBI is willing to give us access to the evidence because we need to corroborate it," I say. "When we can. It's a twisted story, and I'm sure Val gave you the quick version."
He nods. "In fact, I've never heard of an agreement like this. I understand the situation is—" he pauses and seems to fumble for the right word before landing on, "unique, but I will want to take some time to make sure all these contracts include the protections Valencia mentioned." I had heard nothing of this, so my eyebrow goes up. He notices and continues, "Getting into deals with the government, for you, is reasonably a move you'd never make unless you had to."
He pauses, I guess to gauge my reaction. I lean back in my chair, swiveling slightly, using my feet on the desk between us. I don't say anything. He's right so far.
He sits back, too, and waves his hand in the air before resting it heavily on the armrest. "You know, besides making sure the language is solid and the contract is free of loopholes, I want to make sure that you get what you want out of it."
Silence. Not sure any of us had even thought about this. Iggy finally interrupts the quiet, saying, "We want Jeb put away forever."
Carter nods, not phased. "What about the files? What about the evidence?"
"Sealed," I say immediately. "Alana already promised this wouldn't be a public case. I want the contract to clearly protect the information."
Carter pulls out a notepad, flips open to a fresh page, and begins jotting notes. "Absolutely. And I wouldn't worry about Batchelder getting out of this one. I've never even seen a case so documented. So much evidence documented by Batchelder himself. I understand wanting him in prison and I think that's only a matter of time." He looks up at me. "What about seeing him?"
I chew my cheek, watching Iggy for his reaction. His mouth pops open in surprise. I think he's waiting, at first, for me to respond. When no one says anything, his eyebrows harden and he says, "Not necessary."
I sigh. Before I can even begin my appeal, Iggy scoffs roughly.
"Max! Let it go, already!" I don't know if he means to shout, but it explodes out in an angry burst that leaves me speechless. "You have to let him go. He's never cared. There's never been a mission. Our lives were an experiment."
He moves across the room unerringly, side stepping the bookshelf and around the desk to stand right beside me. His eye contact, however useless, is unerringly as well. "Let it go. The sooner you do that, the sooner this can be over."
Suddenly maybe realizing that he's started a scene, Iggy huffs and drags his hand through his hair. He makes his way to the door, mumbling something about dinner.
I reluctantly look back at the other three people in the room, swallowing down my ego's response to all of that. He doesn't understand, but I don't need to try to make him.
"Just make it a possibility," I say finally. Carter nods, noting my request. "I want him watched all the time. I want him on suicide watch, and escape watch. He's a risk."
"He's most likely being held under top security," Carter levels with me, only pure honesty in his head. "I haven't met with Alana yet, but I can confirm more details when I do. Judging by what Valencia could tell me, I don't think they will take their chances with security. Especially as they continue to dive into the case." He sets his note pad down on the desk between us, tapping the pen thoughtfully. "I would worry, however, as they see the severity of the case, they may try to keep you from him. Either because of your connection or because of what's happened."
I roll my eyes because I can't help it. I tap the folder of the contract, not wavering. "Make sure it's in there. I already had Alana agree to try to make it happen."
Carter nods. I look over his shoulder at Angel, and she nods. He checks out, at least right now. I feel better once I know that she isn't picking up any strange vibes.
"One more thing," I say leaning forward. I look down at the folder. "They're going through Jeb's files before we do. We…we don't know what all he's done," I say, looking at Val for a moment before sliding my gaze back to rest on Carter. He holds my gaze without hesitation. "I want protection. For us. Who knows what kind of threat we pose to the government and their goals. I don't want us all lost in this."
Carter's eyes soften. "My entire goal here is to make sure none of you catch any more trauma than what you're already dealing with. That includes being used, during or after this case, by the FBI." He closes his notebook. "I will review all of this, then set a meeting with Alana. Would you like to be at that meeting?"
I nod without hesitation.
Carter smiles. "Of course."
Val latches her hands together, smiling tightly at me and then Carter. "Well, good to have that out of the way."
Angel slides off the credenza, white feathers fluttering from inside the slits in her sweater. "Wonder where we're at with dinner."
They stand and move toward the door and I wave them on from my chair. I rub my forehead, trying not to waste any energy worrying about Fang or Iggy. They'll both simmer down in time, and things will be alright. I sigh and stand, eyes hanging on the laptop bag. I promised Iggy I wouldn't start alone. I move past it and out the door, hurriedly closing the door before I change my mind and start tearing through information.
I turn around right into Fang.
"How'd it go?"
I reign in the anger that bubbles up. I know he is asking for me, to check how I'm feeling. How our read on Carter was. He can't tone down his concern, I can't tone down my anger.
"Fine, all on track," I say. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to hurt you."
His eyes flit between mine. "I know."
He reaches out and twines his fingers with mine. I step around him, pulling him with me down the hall toward the kitchen, taking a big whiff. The entire kitchen smells like dinner, spicy and delicious. My stomach rumbles in response.
Ella and Nudge are sitting at the kitchen island, chatting loudly. Iggy's hands ghost over the three bottles on the counter before landing decisively on the bottle in the middle – Ella's pick. He turns and offers it to her, holding it in her general direction and wiggling his eyebrows. Ella exclaims, grinning, leaning across the island to take it from him.
I see Val and Carter, donning their coats once more.
"There's plenty of food," I offer.
Val smiles. "Save me some. I'll have to run Carter to the airport, and then I'll be back." I smile, giving her a hug. I turn to shake Carter's hand.
He gives my outstretched hand a shake. "I'll be in touch. This should be easy reading on the plane," he says, waving the folder once before stuffing it into his suitcase.
I breathe a laugh. "I'm sure it'll be anything but easy reading. Good luck."
He closes the case and straightens up. "Should I mail the file back?"
"No," I say quickly. We don't even get our mail here, but that isn't something he needs to know. "I have the original, so that's for you."
With that, he's on his way out. I watch he and Val walk to the car, locking the alarm system. It would take Val at least an hour to get to the airport and back. Out of habit – and paranoia – I check the small display near the alarm to make sure the rest of the perimeter of the house is enabled and working. Everything checks out. As usual for the last few years. Never a problem here.
Never a problem yet.
So Fang is fine. For now. I eye him and he looks normal. He's smirking just slightly, probably at the joke Iggy just made. I missed it but everyone is still laughing, Nudge wiping a tear as she laughs. All walls down. No one seems disturbed. Fang's pouring three glasses of wine. He passes to Nudge and Ella, and Angel grabs the third and takes a tiny sip before bringing it over to me.
I make a bleck face at her. "I don't want that kind. You can have it but drink it slow, please. We're all low tolerance." Literally lightweights.
Literally lightweights. That's so true.
She chuckles aloud, wandering off toward the living room with the glass of wine. I head into the kitchen – Fang's already opening my bottle.
Iggy has the ovens open, checking the pans of enchiladas with a verbal electric thermometer. His face is comical as he tries to hear over the sounds of Nudge and Ella catching up for the first time in months.
I grab three more glasses and Fang pours a small amount of red wine into each, recorking when he's finished. As he returns the bottle, I grab my glass and slide Iggy's down the counter to him. He tucks the pans back into the oven, turning off the thermometer and setting it aside on the counter. He does something with the temperature and turns to me, sighing.
"Sorry," he says finally, grabbing his glass and sniffing the wine before taking a sip.
"I get it," I mutter, looking around the kitchen. Angel and the Gasman are in the living room, watching TV. The girls are getting louder by the minute at the kitchen counter, cackling and exclaiming about God knows what. Fang has already disappeared somewhere. The third glass of red sat on the counter, abandoned.
"I know." He takes a longer gulp of the wine before returning it to the counter, further back, out of his cooking space. "We can't trust him. We can't learn anything from him."
I shake my head, watching him, but don't answer. He grins.
"I know you disagree. He's never been honest."
Is that true? How do we know? If he's never been honest, then our entire lives change. Our entire worlds. Perhaps he lied about it all. But perhaps within the lies he tucked the truth. Perhaps there was some reason to do all of this. Iggy seems to know exactly what I'm thinking as I hesitate. He grabs my shoulder, squeezes, and then lets his hand drop, moving past me toward the kitchen island.
"Stop looking for answers, Max. Crazy people don't need a reason."
