Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Page 15

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” he responded, bowing.

  The Queen turned to me. “Do you have any further questions, Cortez?”

  “Not at this time, Your Majesty.”

  When she nodded, the two palace security team members standing closest to von Habsburg stepped forward and ushered him from the room. When the door closed behind them, the Queen took her seat.

  “I have requested the prime minister look into the situation at Broadmoor. However, I cannot promise he will be able to sway the opinions of the doctors.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said.

  When she invited us to stay on for that evening’s dinner, I excused myself to make a call to Decker.

  “Whoever you can get, I want on constant surveillance at Broadmoor Hospital. I don’t want Konstantine von Habsburg as much as looking out the window.”

  “Roger that.”

  When I rang off, my first inclination was to call Kensington. It was a habit I had to break. Instead, I asked Smoke to brief Angel on what we’d learned this afternoon. “Do it with minimal detail,” I told him. “Do not divulge the House of Habsburg Family Statute.”

  He responded the same way Decker had.

  “Siren, you will be the point person for the team on hospital detail,” I said when she turned to follow Smoke. “Make contact with Decker Ashford.”

  I stayed outside the room, attempting to compose myself before rejoining my family. What I learned today meant that Kensington was not in as much danger as we believed she had been. However, until I was certain Konstantine had been moved into maximum security, I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting her go back to the way her life had been prior to her trip to Budapest. The decision wasn’t entirely mine, though. It would be up to the Queen to determine the level of protection Kensington required moving forward.

  I rubbed my chest where the pain sat, knowing I would soon say goodbye to the woman who had taken up temporary residence in my heart. My love for her would not end. Instead, it drove me to do what was best for her, and that did not include spending her life with me.

  The door to the courtyard where I stood opened, and my mother joined me. She put her arms around me without speaking.

  “I am sorry, Cortez. I wish you could see this differently.”

  “I cannot, Mother.”

  She cupped my cheek with her hand. “I feel your pain as if it were my own.”

  Rather than return to Madrid, I stayed on at the flat I kept in London. Like Kensington’s, my residence was in the Knightsbridge neighborhood. The house she’d inherited from her grandparents was on Exhibition Road, steps from Hyde Park. My building was slightly farther away, closer to Brompton Oratory.

  Unable to sleep, I rode the lift from the penthouse to street-level and walked the distance between the two; it was a little over a mile.

  To think that all the years I lived in London, the beguiling woman who’d made me believe in love again was so close.

  I continued walking until dawn, through the park, over to Kensington Gardens. I took the long way around back to my flat, returning just as the sun began to rise.

  As much as I wanted to sleep, I couldn’t. My pain sat too heavy on my chest. I closed my eyes, though, and imagined holding Kensington in my arms one last time—joining our bodies together in a way that I knew they never could be again.

  25

  Kensington

  I woke with a start and sat up, confused by my surroundings. I’d been dreaming I was in the bed on the floor above, the one I’d once shared with Cortez, but never would again.

  In my dream, his arms were around me. We kissed and came so close to making love that I nearly sobbed when my eyes opened and I was back in the small bedroom on the fourth floor.

  More than our bodies being joined together, I missed the connection our souls shared. Unlike in my dream, awake, I could no longer feel the warmth of his love, and that broke my heart.

  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep, I got out of bed, dressed, and took the outside stairs down to the first level. From there, I walked along the pathway that would lead to the chapel and cemetery. Like I had the first time, I sat down and traced the letters etched into the headstone with my fingertips.

  I found some comfort, sitting here that I couldn’t explain. It was as though being near the woman who Cortez would love forever, made me feel closer to him.

  There were no questions for me to ask Celestina today. I was too afraid of the answers. I heard someone’s footsteps on the gravel and looked up to see Teagon headed my way.

  “Hey, Kenzie.” She waited at the entrance to the small cemetery. I stood and walked over to her.

  “Has something happened?”

  “Let’s go back to the house.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “Has something happened to Cortez?”

  “No. I’m sorry if I worried you. Cortez is fine. There’s news of Konstantine von Habsburg.”

  I followed her inside and sat at the table in the kitchen. Marta was there and poured me a cup of tea.

  “As was suspected, Konstantine was behind the attack on his cousin.”

  I nodded.

  “Apparently, he was committed to a psychiatric facility after it happened, but he was able to get out. That’s when he came to Spain and attempted to get on the palace grounds. After that arrest, he was sent to another facility with more security.”

  “What happens now?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Go home?” It was a question rather than a statement. I truly did want to go back to not being under someone’s constant scrutiny, but going home meant my time with Cortez would come to an end. The truth I had to face was that he didn’t want me here anyway. It would be far better if I left on my own rather than wait for him to tell me to. I covered my face when my eyes filled with tears.

  “Kenz?”

  “I need to make a call. Can you excuse me, please?” Considering I almost never called my great-aunt, I hoped she wouldn’t see my doing so now as a terrible intrusion.

  When I rang off several minutes later, I’d gotten the answer I wanted, but I wasn’t any happier. I was going to miss Cortez more than I could admit. Going back to London was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew it was for the best.

  “I’ve received permission to return home,” I told Teagon when I found her waiting in the other room.

  “Do I need to ask from whom?”

  “Someone with more authority than Cortez or even your boss.”

  “Got it. When would you like to leave?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “No, I will.”

  26

  Rile

  “What do you mean Kensington is gone?” I asked when Ink told me she, Angel, and Casper had left Mallorca. “I never authorized this.”

  “Smoke briefed Angel directly. When she asked me to take them to the airport, I had no reason to think she hadn’t cleared it with either him or you.”

  I was pacing back and forth in my office, wondering how, in such a short amount of time, things had gone straight to hell. Never once had I said that they should leave Spain. Never once had I said that Kensington shouldn’t remain under full protection. “Who arranged their travel?”

  “Angel?”

  “Is that a bloody question, Ink?”

  “Look, Rile, I know you’re pissed, but I’ll repeat what I said earlier. Smoke briefed Angel directly. Angel. Who has been on Kensington’s detail longer than the rest of us. She and Casper told me they were leaving to return to London. Are you seriously suggesting I should’ve contacted you to confirm? Cause I gotta tell you, Rile, both of them would’ve had my balls if I had.”

  “I’ve another call to make.” I rang off and called Smoke, who I lit into worse than I had Ink. “I told you to brief Angel. Not call off the fucking op.”

  “I did exactly what you told me to do.”

&
nbsp; “Where in the name of God did Angel get the idea that they could leave Mallorca?” I felt as though all I was doing was repeating myself and not getting a single answer.

  “Hey, Rile, why don’t you ask her?”

  “I haven’t been able to reach her.” Or Kensington or Casper. “If you hear from any of the three of them, tell them to get in touch with me immediately.”

  I ended that call and rang Decker. “I need to know how in the hell they’re traveling,” I said after explaining the situation.

  “Get right back to you.”

  I tried each of the women again while I waited; each call went straight to voicemail. I rang Ink back. “Where’s Crash?”

  “Right here.”

  When I growled, I heard the mobile rustle.

  “Hey, Rile. Look, I’m sorry about this. Neither Ink nor I had any idea that Angel was operating outside of direct orders.”

  “Where in the hell are they, Crash?”

  “On their way to London. Didn’t Ink tell you that?”

  “Do you have any idea what airline, when they took off, when they’re scheduled to arrive?”

  “No, but I think I can find out.”

  “Please do.”

  Between Decker and him, I hoped one of them could tell me something. I was still pacing when I heard the elevator that opened directly into the foyer of the penthouse. The last person I expected to see walk out of it, did. “Kensington?”

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” I stepped aside and then looked behind her.

  “They’re waiting downstairs.”

  “I see. I’m surprised by your arrival. Your departure from Mallorca was premature.”

  “I heard Konstantine is in a psychiatric facility. Is that untrue?”

  “He is in a facility, but not with the level of security we’d prefer before having you return to London.”

  “I’m happy to be home. Going home, anyway. We stopped here first.”

  “I’m glad you did. I’ve been worried.”

  She turned her back to me and put her hands in the pockets of jeans I’d never seen her wear. In fact, I wondered where she got them.

  “I want to thank you for everything you did to keep me safe, Rile. I’ve already spoken with the Queen and have given you an excellent report.” She turned to me with a ridiculously fake smile pasted on her face.

  I now knew where she’d gotten permission to leave Mallorca. I would have to tread lightly with the Queen if I chose to address it at all. Her use of my code name, though, rankled. “Kensington…stop this.”

  “Look, I only came to say goodbye. So, again, thanks.” She stuck her hand out as if I would consider shaking it. I didn’t.

  “We need to talk, my darling.”

  The look on her face changed to a scowl that better conveyed her current mood. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine perhaps?”

  “No, thank you. I won’t be staying.”

  When I took a step forward, she took a step back and then turned away from me a second time. “You could have at least had the decency to end it, Cortez. Not just pretend that nothing ever happened between us.”

  I walked closer and put my hands on her shoulders. I wouldn’t tell her she was jumping to the wrong conclusion. I wouldn’t tell her she was wrong about things ending between us, because she wasn’t. “I had every intention that we’d talk.”

  “When?”

  “When I returned to Mallorca.”

  “And when was that to be?”

  “Once I was certain that Konstantine was under lock and key.”

  “You left without a word.”

  “It was very early. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  She jerked out from under my hands that were still on her shoulders, and walked to the other side of the room. “That’s bloody bullshit, and you know it. You left our bed without a word. You left Mallorca without a word. You left me, Cortez, without a word.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Kensington, you and I both know—”

  “Don’t!” she shouted. “Don’t say that I know anything. If you want to speak, speak for yourself, but don’t you dare speak for me.”

  Everything I considered saying sounded trite, even to myself. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wish we were at the same place in life, but we are not.”

  “Is this how it goes with all of them? Do you seduce all the women under your protection? Pretend that what the two of you have is something special? Get them to fall in love with you? And then, when the job is finished, you walk away before they know what hit them.”

  You know none of that is true.

  I saw her flinch and then close her eyes. She felt my words. What would she do? Would she acknowledge them?

  She rolled her shoulders and folded her arms. “I’ve got to hand it to you, you’ve got it down to a science.”

  I watched as she walked over and picked up a bag. I’d been too overjoyed to see her that I hadn’t noticed it when she set it on the chair.

  “I’m returning this to you, Cortez.”

  “What is it?” I asked when she tried to hand me the bag, even though I didn’t need to know.

  “The Miró. I can’t keep it.”

  “I want you to have it. It was—it is—a gift, Kensington.”

  “Given under false pretenses.” She set the bag on the kitchen counter. I don’t want it, Cortez, just like you don’t want me.

  I couldn’t tell her she was wrong, that I did want her, more than anyone I’d ever wanted. “I want you to have a full and happy life, Kensington.” I took the painting from the bag, unwrapped it, and pointed to the shape of the female. “This is the woman you deserve to be. Happy. Joyous. I know you will find the man who makes you feel this way. He’s the man you deserve to be with.” I cannot be that man. I don’t have it in me anymore.

  Kensington studied me for several seconds. I longed to know what she was thinking, but she was no longer giving anything away.

  She stepped closer, leaned forward, and kissed my cheek. “Goodbye, Cortez.”

  When Kensington walked out of the foyer and over to the elevator that seemed to open at her silent command, I didn’t follow. If I had, I would’ve begged her to stay with me forever.

  27

  Kensington

  The first two days after I returned to London, I spent mostly crying. And then I stopped. Two days after that, I told Casper I no longer required her services.

  She looked between Teagon and me. “I need to check in with Rile.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” said Teagon when Casper left the room.

  I knew I’d have to say the same to my best friend one day very soon, but I wasn’t ready. Every day, I prayed she wouldn’t come to me to say she’d been given another mission.

  A few minutes later, Teagon walked into the kitchen where I was rummaging in the fridge for something to eat and missing the hell out of Marta.

  “She’s gone.”

  I closed the fridge and spun around. “What? She left? Just like that?”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  I shrugged. “Yes, but, what is it with you MI6-types? Do you always leave without as much as a goodbye?”

  “Nah. She’s CIA. Or was once.”

  I reached for the bottle of wine I’d opened the night before and poured a glass. “Fancy some?”

  “I best not. On duty and all that.”

  “About that.”

  “Go on.”

  “Who employs you?”

  “MI6, as you well know.”

  “To whom do you answer?”

  “Presently, the chief, Z Alexander.”

  “Am I still, officially, under protection?”

  “You are, Kenzie.”

  “For how long?”

  She shrugged and grabbed the bottle of wine. “What the hell. One glass won’t hurt.”

  “Teagon, for how long?”

/>   “Until we’re absolutely certain that Konstantine is no longer a threat.”

  “How long might that be?”

  “I’m sorry, Kenz. I don’t know.”

  “You can’t stay on here forever. Gawd, you’d have the most boring life known to man.”

  She took a drink of wine, set her glass down, and folded her arms in front of her. “Um, no. That would be your life, my friend.”

  “What? How’s that fair? I’ve been under fucking house arrest for months.”

  “What of it? What’s next, Kenz?”

  I took a big gulp of wine and poured what was left in the bottle into my glass. “I’m no longer sharing with you.”

  “I didn’t want more anyway.”

  “So what do you think I should be doing?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  I’d tell her I didn’t know, but that would be a lie. Since we returned to London, I’d been thinking about some of the suggestions Cortez made. Two things in particular. First, the notion of me working for Whitby Press, even if only as a volunteer. The second was, which of the charities my grandparents supported did I want to get more involved with?

  “I do have some ideas.”

  When she said, “You’re joking.” I wanted to smack her.

  “It was something you-know-who and I talked about.”

  “The man whose name shall forever go unmentioned?”

  “Correct. Anyway, he suggested that I consider seeking a position with Whitby Press.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea!”

  “It is? Why?”

  “Gawd, Kenz, you own the bloody place. March in there and tell them you’re taking over.”

  “Very funny.”

  “What? I’m not kidding. I just said I thought it was a fantastic idea.”

  “I never went to university. I can’t just go plop myself down and run a business I know nothing about.”

  “Then go and learn. They all work for you, Kenz. Schedule a meeting with whomever’s running the place now and tell him or her that you want to start working in some capacity.”