BECKETT
Letter #21 Chaos,
It’s Christmas. Huh. Have I really become that person, so sad and consumed with worry that even writing Christmas somehow looks depressing?
It shouldn’t be. Maisie is here and, since it’s been a week since her last chemo treatment, she’s actually perking up. Her hair is completely gone now. It left right after the second chemo treatment, her birthday, to be precise. Once it started, she told me to take it all off. She said it was easier to be sad all at once than a little bit every day.
My six-year-old is incredibly wise.
So it’s Christmas, and while my kids play with their new toys, I want to concentrate on what’s good.
First, thank you for the robe. It’s so very soft, and I love it. I’d ask where you found it, but that would probably mean telling me things you’re not allowed to. I hope your present got there, too.
Second, you’ll be here soon. I have to admit, I’m way more excited for that than I should be. I feel like I already know you so well, and getting to see you face-to-face is just that—seeing you. I met you twenty-one letters ago. How amazing it is to meet someone through their words before their face, to find their mind attractive, and then see if the body follows. Not that I’m judging your body. I’m sure it’s great, since you do what you do. I mean, it’s fine.
Stupid. Freaking. Pen.
I’m just saying that I have to admit that I’m attracted to who you are as a person. Is that weird? I hope not. More people should meet like this, to really understand a person before they see the outer packaging.
And I know it’s just been letters, but I have this crazy feeling that you understand me, probably better than anyone here.
So get here.
~ Ella
…
“Behave,” I told Havoc when we heard knocking.
I opened the front door to find Ella standing there, binder in hand, her face tense. It was Monday, and the insurance lady was due in ten minutes. We’d moved the meeting to my house, hoping to not worry Maisie.
Plus, since I was the one on the insurance policy, I was really the one she was investigating.
“Coffee?” I asked as Ella walked in.
“I’m shaking enough as it is.” She slipped out of her coat and hung it on the coat rack, revealing a pair of jeans that her curves fit perfectly and a blue top that matched her eyes. Damn, she looked good. Healthy. The shadows under her eyes were fading, and her skin had a gorgeous glow to it. I couldn’t wait to see how the light warmed her skin through the stained-
glass window I’d just had installed at the new house—the one I hadn’t yet told her I’d been building the last six months. That was a secret I was happy to keep. Two more weeks and it would finally be ready to move into. Then she’d have this cabin back for business and wouldn’t feel like I was pressuring her to move in together.
The fact that the house was next to Solitude and big enough for everyone was just a perk.
“Don’t worry. We didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. This is just a cursory visit.”
“She drove here from Denver, Beckett. Are you sure we don’t need Mark? There’s nothing cursory about this. It’s inconvenient to her and invasive to us.”
“Well, there is that,” I said, putting my arms around her. “We’ll call Mark
if we have to, but I honestly think there’s nothing to worry about.” When the door sounded again, I sighed. “Looks like she’s early. Yay.”
I left the warmth of Ella’s arms and opened the door to find— “Whoa.
What are you doing here?”
The firm set of Donahue’s mouth told me it wasn’t by choice. “I was summoned. Apparently this is easier for security purposes than random visits to our ‘office.’” He held up air quotes.
“Come on in.”
He walked inside, adding his coat to the rack, and then pulling up a little short when he saw Ella.
“Ms. MacKenzie,” he said with a little nod.
“You were at Ryan’s funeral.” Her voice had gone soft. I took her hand. “Ella, this is—”
“Captain Donahue,” he answered truthfully. “I already know the insurance demon told her.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you again. I’m sorry I wasn’t more personable at Ryan’s funeral. I was a little…out of sorts.”
“You were grieving. It’s understandable. Besides, Chaos told me so much about you that I already felt like I knew you.”
He couldn’t have shocked me more if he’d punched me in the nuts.
“Chaos,” Ella said that name like he was a freaking saint. “You knew him. Right. Same unit.”
Donahue’s eyes flew to mine, and I gave the slightest shake of my head, imperceptible to anyone else but someone who’d worked with me in situations where that movement was life and death.
Like right now.
He instantly gave Ella a reassuring smile. “Good guy. Crazy about you, I can say that.” This time his glance at me was definitely a little disapproving. “Gentry. How about we get some coffee.”
That was not a suggestion. “Sounds good.”
“I’ll wait here. I think I see her car pulling in,” Ella said, her face almost
against the door’s glass pane.
“What the hell are you doing?” Donahue asked as I made him a cup of coffee.
“What Mac asked.”
“And she doesn’t know?”
“Nope. And it needs to stay that way.” After the machine stopped hissing, I handed him the cup. I knew he liked his coffee like he liked his women, black and strong.
“You adopted her kids, and if my spidey senses are right, you’re sleeping with her, and she doesn’t—”
“The minute she knows, we’re done. You know what happened. She’ll kick me out of here so fast I’ll get whiplash. How the hell am I going to help her then? I hate it. But this is the way it is. The longer I waited to tell her, the deeper it got, and now we’re here.”
The door opened and shut, followed by the sound of two pairs of feminine steps headed our way.
“Damn it, Cha—” He shook his head. “Gentry.”
“Well, gentlemen. It’s nice to see you’re here and ready to start. I’m Danielle Wilson, and you must be Samuel Donahue and Beckett Gentry.” She looked to be in her midforties, with a sensible suit and minimal makeup. Her brown hair was pulled into a severe French twist, and a pair of glasses hung from her necklace.
My instincts told me she was out for blood. My blood. “Coffee?” I offered.
“No, thank you. Shall we get started?”
We all gathered around the dining room table. Danielle sat at the head, spreading out folders and notebooks like she was prepping to study for finals. Ella sat next to me on one side, her hand firmly tucked in mine, and Donahue took the other side, leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee.
Guy had always had a hell of a poker face. But why would she have summoned him?
“Let’s get started. Mr. Gentry, would you please tell me how it is that you came to adopt Ms. MacKenzie’s children?” She put her glasses on, took out her pen, and braced it above a yellow steno pad.
Old school.
“I served in a unit with her brother, Ryan. He asked in his last letter that I come to Telluride and take care of his sister, Ella.”
She nodded, writing quickly. “May I see the letter?”
“No,” Ella answered. “That’s private and none of your business.”
Danielle leaned forward, locking her hawklike eyes onto Ella. “Your daughter was adopted in July and has since cost our company over a million dollars in care for a condition that was previously known—and immediately treated with a therapy that wasn’t approved by your previous provider. Unless you’d like to pay those bills, I suggest you get me the letter.”
Oh, this woman was a piece of work.
I arched my hips and took the letter out of my back pocket, sliding it across the table to her. “You can’t keep it.”
“You keep it on you?” she asked, looking over her glasses at me.
“I do. When your best friend asks you something like that, you tend to keep it close.”
She opened the letter and read it over, then snapped a picture with her phone.
I felt violated, like she’d just taken a picture of Ryan’s naked soul without his permission. It’s what he would want. He wants his family protected.
And so did I.
“Interesting. So did the unit sanction this mission?” she asked Donahue. “I’m not sure what unit you’re referring to,” he answered with a shrug. “I’m well aware of what you do, Captain Donahue. I followed your paper
trail, and the deal you made with Mr. Gentry to keep him in that little disability loophole. Did you plan this all out? Keep him on temporary disability so he could pony up the insurance for the little sister here?”
Donahue took a sip of his coffee, and I was shocked it didn’t ice over, he was that cool. “No, but if that was a benefit of my offer, I’m happy to have
helped. Gentry was offered temp disability because I have the power to offer it, and he was unfit to return to duty.”
“And those reasons were…” She looked up at him.
“Above your pay grade. Look, I agreed to come here for the benefit of Ella and Beckett, and I have no problem clearing up whatever issue you think there is. But you don’t have the clearance to know…well, almost anything. All that you get to know is that I was authorized to offer him temporary disability in the hopes that he would heal enough to return to active service any time in the next five years. Proper paperwork was filed, and he remains eligible for healthcare. That’s it. That’s all you get from me.”
She adjusted her glasses and set her sights on Ella and me. “So you randomly show up in Telluride to fulfill your dead buddy’s letter request and adopt her kids.”
“Not random, but yes. I fell in love with the kids, just like I did with Ella. When you love someone, you want to protect them. They didn’t have a dad in their lives, and I wanted to be that for them.”
“But you could have simply married Ms. MacKenzie and achieved the same thing, right?” Her gaze flickered between us.
“Then that would have been fraud,” I said as Ella’s hand tightened in mine. “That would have given you a case, though if you went after every young girl who tag-chased GI’s for benefits, you’d be too busy to show up here.”
“I don’t really believe in marriage,” Ella added. What. The. Hell?
“You don’t?” Ms. Wilson asked, clearly not believing her.
“Nope. I was married to Colt and Maisie’s biological father. He walked out as soon as he knew they were twins. Divorced me shortly after. Marrying Beckett would have been absolute fraud when I don’t have any faith in that institution. After all, what is it when vows mean nothing and a piece of paper binds your life to someone’s as easily as the next one dissolves the bond? It doesn’t mean anything. But adoption does. He has an
amazing bond with my children and shares just as much of the parenting duties as I do. He takes Maisie to treatments, he takes Colt to soccer and snowboarding. He built a tree house for them and packs lunches in the morning. Does that sound like fraud to you?”
An awkward silence descended as Ms. Wilson feigned looking over her notes. None of this made any sense. Sure, Maisie’s bills were astronomical, but people adopted kids with high levels of needs every day.
“If we’re done here—” Donahue started.
“I’m not satisfied.” The tone of her voice, the way she flat-out glared at Donahue, made me lean forward and scan the details of her face. This was personal.
“How did you know about the unit?” I asked.
“My best guess is she found out from her sister, Cassandra Ramirez.” Donahue stared her down.
Ramirez. He’d gotten out after he’d lost his arm. From what I’d heard from the guys before I left, the transition hadn’t been easy. In that regard, Ella was right—guys like us didn’t give up the adrenaline rush without a fight. I had search and rescue. Ramirez…didn’t.
She swallowed and tapped her pen on the paper a few times before looking up. “Yes, I’m Cassie’s sister. But that has nothing to do with this investigation.”
Bullshit.
“Liar.” Ella seethed.
“You overstepped,” I said as calmly as possible. “This entire investigation is an overstep, and when we shut you down you can bet we’ll take it higher than you are.”
“There is a little girl’s life at stake.” Ella spoke in an even tone, but her hand had mine in a death grip. “And you only care about getting back at Donahue.”
“I care that the rules are followed, which these men should have no trouble respecting. The truth is that this man adopted the two children of his now-girlfriend, one of whom needs millions of dollars in treatments, and you haven’t even told the kids they’re adopted. It smells really bad. If it turns out a full Tri-Prime investigation isn’t needed, you’ll have my full apologies, of course. We’re cracking down on fraud this year.”
She was on a witch hunt, and even though what we’d done was perfectly legal, and in no way fraud, she was going to twist it up and throw us into hell while they “investigated.” They could pause the payments on Maisie’s treatments, scans, the upcoming radiation…all of it. Even though we’d be found innocent of any wrongdoing, it would be tied up long enough for Maisie to feel the ramifications.
Unless I could prove that I knew the kids before the diagnosis.
A dull roar filled my ears as Ella and Ms. Wilson exchanged words. I’d lose Ella, but I’d known that the moment I’d shown up in Telluride. The time I’d had with her was a gift that I’d had no right to. Hell, I’d stolen it. She didn’t really know the man she was in love with, because I hadn’t told her.
Three things. Three reasons. That’s what I used to make decisions now, used to quell my need to jump first and regret later.
Ella deserved the truth. Maisie deserved to live.
My love for the kids wasn’t fraud.
Decision made.
“If you’ll wait here a moment,” I said above the fray, excusing myself from the table. I took the stairs two at a time and retrieved the box I kept buried under a stack of underwear in my nightstand.
Evidence in hand, I came down the stairs slowly. Ella and Ms. Wilson were still arguing, but Donahue turned toward me. He took in the box and my expression.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “It’s the only way.”
He nodded as I walked by him to stand next to Ella. The conversation stopped, and all eyes were on me.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” I told Ella.
“I love you, too, Beckett,” she responded, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “What are you doing?”
Kissing her was the first thought in my mind—taking that last second with her so I could memorize everything. But I’d taken enough from her already.
“I should have told you, and I know this is about to cost me…you, but I can’t let another kid pay for my mistakes, especially not Maisie.”
The box made a soft scratching sound as I slid it down the table. Ms.
Wilson took it and lifted the square lid. “What exactly am I looking at?” She pulled the evidence of my sin onto the table, and Ella gasped.
“Why do you have my letters? His letters?” she whispered.
I kept my eyes on Ms. Wilson, unable to man up enough to watch the love die in Ella’s eyes when she caught on.
“You said you needed evidence that I knew the kids before the diagnosis, that I had a relationship with them. You’ll find letters in there dating before the diagnosis, as well as pictures drawn by the kids and little notes. I knew the kids, loved them, and loved Ella before Maisie was diagnosed. You have no reason to investigate. If this was just about Maisie’s treatments, I wouldn’t have adopted Colt, too. The truth is that I wanted to be their dad.”
Ms. Wilson sighed, thumbing through the letters. “I’m going to need to step outside and make a call.” She snapped a couple pictures of Ella’s letters and the kids’ pictures, gathered her notebooks, and walked out the front door.
“Ella—” I started.
“Don’t. Not one single word. Not yet.” Her knuckles were white and so were the tips of her fingernails where they dug into her biceps.
Donahue sent me a look full of so much sympathy that I nearly crumbled right there.
Minutes passed. The only sounds amid the tension in the room were the ticking of the clock and the rending of my heart roaring in my ears, consuming every thought. Would it be enough? Had I just given up everything…for nothing?
The front door opened, and Ms. Wilson walked back in, a faint stain of blush on her cheeks. “It appears I have been mistaken. I’m…sorry”—she choked that word out—“to have inconvenienced you. While the situation still remains a very…gray area, you didn’t do anything that would justify canceling the policy, and my supervisor has decided that the investigation is now complete.”
I almost sagged in relief at our win, no matter what it had cost.
“Don’t sound so disappointed. You get to help the good guys today.” Donahue pushed back from the table. “I’ll walk you out.”
Ms. Wilson stood, then gave me a forced smile. “My brother-in-law said
you were one of the good ones, if that counts for anything. He said you and the dog were perfectly matched, like nothing he’d ever seen. Even your names meant the same damn thing. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Gentry. Ms. MacKenzie.” She turned to where Havoc sat at my side. “Havoc, right?”
“This way, Ms. Wilson,” Donahue called out. He locked eyes with me as she walked toward him. He knew I was about to have my hands full. “That offer stands. You can always come back.”
I nodded, and they left, the door shutting with an ominous, echoing sound behind them.
“How could you have hidden those from me? Why do you have his letters?” Ella asked, rising from her chair and backing away from me toward the box.
“Ella.”
She put her hands on either side of her head and shook it. “No. No. No. Oh God. The tree house, the same lettering on Maisie’s diploma. Havoc. It’s not a coincidence, is it?”
“No.” All of my life I’d been able to compartmentalize, to turn off my emotions. It was how I survived all those years in foster care, how I existed in special ops. But Ella had changed something in me. She’d opened my heart, and now I couldn’t shut the damn thing down. This pain was excruciating, and it was just the beginning.
“Say it. I’m not going to believe it unless you say it. Who are you?”
My eyes squeezed shut, and my throat closed. It was all I could do to draw a breath. But she deserved the truth, and now Maisie was protected. I’d done all I could to honor Ryan’s request, and the consequences to my heart didn’t matter. I straightened my spine and opened my eyes, taking in the pleading, terrified look in hers.
“I’m Beckett Gentry. Call sign Chaos.”
