The Bartender's Daughter

Chapter Twenty Three

JACK'S POV

Emmit and I casually walked around the ballroom floor, taking small sips of champagne and mingling with people and keeping our eyes trained on the staircase. People would come walking down in pairs, the men in tuxes and the woman in an assortment of gowns in a huge array of grays and blacks, and not very many with colors ranging outside of that. Anderson was wandering somewhere else in the house, scouting the guards and how much security there was in front of and behind the scenes. I don't know how he managed to do it, but Anderson always knew exactly where every guard would be almost down to the second. It was almost half the reason I think he was so valuable to this team; his skill set was unparalleled.

"Dude, when are the guests of honor going to be here?" Emmit's voice popped up in my ear. In the car on the way over here we had put on ear pieces and little clips on the buttons of our shirt so we would be able to communicate. The almost invisible clip on the button was just in case we were caught and the one in our ear destroyed or disabled.

"Soon, it's almost nine." I whispered, taking another sip of champagne. While I watched the other guests my thoughts ran through the argument Alli and I had in her room before I left. I kept kicking myself mentally for saying that if I had never met her I would have saved myself a hell of a lot of trouble. I mean yeah, keeping up with her was a lot of work, but she kept me sane in this weird, crazy way. Before I had met her on the beach I was ready to just turn myself in I was getting so tired of all the shit I was going through, Emmit had taken me to the beach that day to try and talk me out of it. Then I met her, got a job, and I was feeling kind of okay again. I would be lying if I said I hadn't stayed up countless nights, afraid of the nightmares and the darkness that appeared when I closed my eyes. Emmit was my best friend, I literally wouldn't be alive without him in more ways that I could say, but Alli made me laugh. And that took a lot. Even though she almost burned down the kitchen but ended up blowing it up anyways, and screaming that we were driving down the wrong side of the street in London. I smiled at the thought and glanced up at the staircase like I had been doing for the past hour and my eyes widened.
  "The son has arrived." I muttered so Emmit and Anderson knew. I turned and looked up at the top, watching his moves carefully. He walked in, dark brown hair and power stance in his tux, smiling as he looked back over the ballroom. But instead of walking down the steps upon entering and going over to his pose and the girls that would be falling all over him, he turned around back towards the door and held out his hand. A woman appeared and I almost had a heart attack right then and there. Scratch that, I think I did have a heart attack.

"No. Fucking. Way." Emmit said. I placed my glass quickly on the tray of a passing waiter before I dropped it or crushed it in my hand and caused a scene.

Alli took Nathanial's hand and then looped her arm through his with the biggest smile on her face. Nathaniel, the bastard who had been trying to kill me son was walking down the steps with Alli. My Alli. She walked slowly down the stairs in a white gown that showed off her curves and swaying hips, with a deep V-neck that made me almost lose it again, for slightly different reasons. She looked so stunning I couldn't stand looking at her. I turned around and rubbed my temples, trying to get rid of the headache that was slowly starting to form.
   Not only had she shown up, she was wearing a white dress that made her stand out like a sore thumb on the arm of my enemy. Nathanial was almost as ruthless as his father, and it was Nathanial who had accidentally spilled the big secret to me and had ran and told daddy the lie that I had "accidentally found outt" and daddy figured it was best if I died with his secret.

"Emmit I need to get out of here." I pushed my way through the crowd and Emmit intercepted me in the back of the ballroom, away from all the people.

"You can't leave just because she showed up Jack. This doesn't change anything. It only gives us more reason to take the bastard out." Emmit said coolly, holding my arm and never breaking eye contact. "She doesn't matter, the mission does."

I didn't say anything, and glanced over as she took her last step down the stairs and laughed at something Nathanial whispered in her ear. "Fine. But she doesn't get hurt, and she can't know we're here."I couldn't even think of what her reaction would be if she saw me, Emmit, or Anderson here. And I really didn't want to think of that look of betrayal and hurt.

Emmit nodded and let my arm go. He brushed off my coat and nodded before walking away, talking into his earpiece to Anderson.
I turned and walked back into the crowd, watching Alli on his arm, smiling and laughing as he introduced her to his friends who gushed over her dress. I turned and glowered at the top of the staircase as the man of the evening came strolling down the stairs, smiling and waving as the people around me clapped politely at his entrance. I clapped slowly myself, looking around the room, counting the seconds until we could take action.

I watched as he greeted Nathanial at the bottom of the stairs, who pulled Alli over. She looked a little surprised, but when he gave her a warm handshake and complimented her dress her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. I clenched my fists together and almost walked right up to him, put a gun to his forehead, and pull the trigger. I wondered for a moment what Alli's reaction would be if she knew the man she was shaking hands with was be the one that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. Had sent those men after her in the house, who I learned later had actually survived and apparently were no longer in America.

Music started playing back up from the live band in the corner stage, and Nathanial pulled Alli to the dance floor and they began to waltz. I turned, shaking my head and focused again on the mission. I watched Nathanial's dad, George, walk slowly across the room, mingling and stopping to talk to people, thanking them for coming, all that political proper stuff. He was a tall man with slightly graying brown hair, a few small wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead, and alert green eyes that saw everything and struck terror in a few people.
  Oh, and I forgot to mention all the blood on his hands. The man has probably killed so many people, directly and indirectly, that they could form a small country. It's still surprised me I've gotten away for this long, and now here I was right under his nose. Boy would the CIA love to have me.

"Are we a go?" I asked Emmit as I began following George out of the room.

"A hundred percent."

"Anderson?"

"Everything is in place."

"Alright, here we go guys. Time to get my life back,"