by A. J. Macey
“Elliot,” I greeted, awkwardly wrapping my arms around his lean torso and giving a tiny squeeze before stepping back. “Come on, time to meet the guys.”
“Ah, I finally get to meet the boyfriends,” he teased, transferring one of his bags to his other hand and tossing his arm over my shoulders. “Does that mean I get to threaten them if they break your heart again?”
“Good luck, they don’t listen. Pretty sure they’re all feral,” I joked. I started to open the door, ready to pull Elliot inside, when a thought struck me. Shit, well, maybe one of them is a little more feral than the others. Making a quick decision that might just save Elliot’s life, I rushed out, “By the way, quick little tidbit. Chase has Dissociative Identity Disorder. His alter’s name is Ciar, deep growly voice. Don’t get on his bad side.” For once, snarky Elliot had no response. Taking advantage of his nonplussed state, I pulled him forward and into the house. Here goes nothing.
My four guys were in the kitchen standing around the island as Chase made breakfast. The silence and near glares the Aces gave Elliot surprised me, but Chase broke the tension by doing what he did best. Being a happy-go-lucky assassin and introducing himself.
“Nice to meet you, Elliot. I’m Chase.” He stuck out his free hand, the other keeping the whisk in the egg concoction he had been mixing.
“You too,” Elliot stated with a head dip, his arm coming off my shoulders to return the handshake. “Now, you must be the assassin? ’Cause you don’t look like an MC member.”
Chase perked up, tipping an imaginary hat before turning back to breakfast. “The one and only! These three are the Aces’ officers.”
“Elliot, this is Brooks, Stone, and Garrett,” I introduced, glaring at the three of them until they shook his offered hand.
“Nice to meet you.” Elliot pretended to be polite, but I could pick up the icy thread within his voice as he talked to the three men. He was mad at them for me, which was sweet but unnecessary. I probably should have addressed that, but my stomach growled. So instead I did what I do best... eat!
“Great, now let’s eat some damned food. I’m starving,” I huffed, cutting off the stare down between the four of them. They’ll get over this suspicion toward new people like the big boys that I know they can be.
I hope.
An hour and a half later, with stomachs full, we started down the stairs ready to work. And tension, there was so much tension between the group that I was ready to throw something at the four of them, except Chase, my sweet little assassin.
“Holy shit,” Elliot exclaimed as we neared the bottom of the staircase, his gaze giddy and wide as he eyed the room. “This is amazing. I need a setup like this. Think you’d be willing to help me with my house?”
“You actually have a home? I just thought you lived in a box on the side of the road of whatever city you were deciding to steal from,” I teased. Elliot rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out.
“Ha ha, very funny, K. Of course I have a home. Not too far from here actually, over in the middle of nowhere Cali.”
“That’s pretty cool; show me the house sometime and I’ll help you with a layout,” I told him, absently noting the glares from the Aces as they watched us go back and forth. Are they really that worried about an outsider? “All right, time to work. Chase, when did Val say he’d be here?”
“Not for another few days. Finishing up a job on the other side of the globe but he’ll be coming straight here afterwards,” Chase relayed. “Depending on the plan you have cooking up in that pretty head of yours, we may not need him for the heist.”
“What is it we’re stealing?” Elliot asked, looking over my pages of notes, blueprints, and photographs that covered the wall and worktable.
“Who,” Garrett snapped. “Who are we stealing.”
“You’re taking a person? Fucking awesome! Let’s do it.”
“I’m convinced all of you are crazy,” Brooks muttered, eyeing Elliot, Chase, and me.
“What’s the fun in being normal?” Elliot shuddered, making me laugh.
“Great, now can we get onto the actual planning?” Garrett ground out, waving a hand at the notes. The sharp tone had me quirking a brow at him, but his green gaze was focused solely on Elliot.
Hm, that attitude is going to wear on me real fucking quick, I noted with a sigh. Hopefully he can get it together before I lose my shit.
But knowing Garrett? Doubtful.
“Sure, what’s the plan, Cat?”
“This is our target, Lorenzo Bianchi, Frankie’s most trusted lieutenant. We need information on what Frankie’s doing and if anyone’s going to have it, it’d be him. Besides, I’m quite looking forward to getting my hands on this bastard,” I explained, digging out the photo I had of my former bodyguard and holding it up. “Well, there are a couple of options. We could try to draw Lorenzo out, or we could go in and get him.”
“I don’t know if drawing him out of the casino would work,” Stone took over, looking through the blueprints. “The only movements in or out of the building have been due to absolute necessity. The rest seem content to stay locked within the casino or Frankie’s mansion. Though, almost exclusively in the former.”
“Yeah, there are a couple of underground floors that are essentially used as mob workspace, so if drawing him out isn’t going to work, we need to go in. It obviously can’t be me. We all saw how my last attempt went, even in disguise.”
“Uh, what attempt?” Garrett asked, his attention finally on me. It was then I remembered that the three of them had never actually gotten to hear what had happened. I raised my brow as I glanced at Chase, having assumed he would have told them.
“Nope, figured when they were ready to listen and you were ready to talk, you’d tell them,” he answered my unspoken question. Damn troublemaker.
“What happened?” Garrett snapped, growing more and more irritable the longer we danced around the actual explanation.
“The whole reason I came barreling into the bar that day six months ago was because Lorenzo recognized me when I was undercover, despite my wig and disguise. Tried to take me so I went straight to the compound so I could tell you that I had fucked up, that Frankie knew we were coming.”
They didn’t speak, all three realizing just how much I had needed them that day. Brooks sighed, rubbing his eyes as he processed what I said. No doubt angry with himself, Garrett stood silently glaring holes in the tabletop. When I trained my attention on Stone, he held my gaze unblinking. The steel in his expression cracked slightly, and I saw regret once again etched on his face.
“I’ll go in.” Elliot cut through the tension, oblivious to what was going on around him as he held up different papers. “Depending on the plan though, I might need help.”
“We hit the money move. Every Friday morning, the Solace has an armored car come through and move the money that’s been laundered. Once they pick it up, they take it to their bank where the money is rotated and shuffled through those systems for a couple of weeks before being taken to their designated group of bad guys,” I said, outlining the plan.
“So we jack the truck before it gets there,” Chase interjected. “Elliot, you and I will go in, and Brooks and Garrett will drive the truck. We can’t risk you two being identified by anyone, so you’ll have prosthetics and makeup put on, same with us.” Chase waved a hand between Elliot and him.
“What about you two?” Brooks asked, glancing from me to Stone.
“What does one do to someone you want information from? Let’s see just how much you’ve earned your title of Grave, Enforcer,” I taunted with a smirk.
“If we won’t be with the move, where will we be exactly?” Stone asked.
“Don’t think I don’t know what those exterior little buildings on your compound are used for. We’ll use one of those, like you guys did with the two Alloy Kings.”
“How’d you know that?” Brooks asked, crossing his arms and smirking at me. Flashing him a sassy smile, I winked but did
n’t tell him. “Still a brat.”
“Always,” Stone teased. “But that sounds good for me, will you be in the room when we question him? What I do isn’t easy to watch—”
“Excuse you, Stone, I don’t need to watch you torture him. That little rat bastard is mine,” I snapped, my rage flaring at the memories of everything Lorenzo had done over the years, the ‘highlight reel’ ending with the last time I had ever been within his greedy grasp.
“Get on the damn bed, bitch,” Lorenzo hissed, his arms like steel bands as they crushed my torso. The feeling of his muscled chest pressing against the healing lashes on my back had shooting pains radiating through my torso. Lost in the pain air fled my lungs, and I couldn’t seem to take a real breath. My feet dangled beneath me, no longer touching the floor as he carried me to that dreaded bed.
“No!” I screamed. It was my eighteenth birthday, and I wouldn’t spend it doing this.
No more being a pawn. No more being used for anyone else’s entertainment.
No more.
Kicking off the side of the mattress as we neared it, I sent us careening toward the ground when we toppled back. Lorenzo’s groan was loud as he connected with the floor. Pushing to my hands and knees, I scrambled to the door. But as soon as I opened it and darted forward, I ran straight into the suit covered chest of my father.
“Kiera,” he snapped. “What on Earth are you doing?”
“I’m not doing this,” I bit out, rushing to think of an excuse, any excuse to get out of that room. I just need a little sliver of time, I thought. I’m so close. “Can I have my birthday off, please?” I whispered, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat at having to plead.
My bastard father was silent, staring down his nose at me where I had fallen after our collision. Bending down, he grabbed my jaw painfully in his grasp.
“You can have today off, but I expect you back to work tomorrow,” he ground out, his voice ice cold and hard as his fingers dug into my cheeks. “Understood?” Nodding the best I could, I kept the tears that threatened to fill my gaze pushed back, refusing to let him see how much he was hurting me. “Good. Go.”
At his dismissal, I got up and walked back to my room with my head held high despite the glances the rest of his mob of minions gave me. It only took a few minutes before I was across the gaudy building and back into my wing of Frankie’s mansion. Once the door was shut, I got to work, yanking out clothes from my closet to change into, but before I could, my bedroom door opened.
“Jesus Christ, Garrett!” I screeched, startled as he stepped into the room. “Give me a damned heart attack, why don’t you.”
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he ground out, his eyes staring at my nearly naked body, the scraps of lace barely leaving anything to the imagination.
“Why the hell do you care?” I snapped, part of me reveling in the fact that I held his attention so raptly while the other half was revolted by being turned on after narrowly avoiding my ‘session.’
My last session if I had anything to say about it.
“Tell me, Kier—” His demand trailed off as he stormed closer, his brows drawing down as he inspected my aching jaw. “Who did this to you?”
I stayed silent, turning to pull out my backpack and a few more outfits. I needed an excuse to get out of the house in case anyone tried to stop me, so I picked out pieces that still had the tags attached.
“Answer me, Kiera.” Even in his whisper, the command was powerful, sending a shiver down my spine at the gravelly sound. “Who gave you these?” His finger trailed over one of the long cuts into my skin, and I hissed, not sure whether it was from the pain of the contact or being unused to such a gentle touch.
“Have you ever wondered why I do what I do? Why I constantly chase something outside Frankie’s house of horrors?” I whispered, shifting my back away from his touch.
“What does Frankie do to you?”
“Not just Frankie.” I finally broke, and every little thing that Frankie, Lorenzo, or any of his mob had done or forced me to do came tumbling out as I threw a plain shirt and jeans over the lace.
“Fucking shit, you need to tell someone,” Garrett muttered in surprise, his eyes wide as I shouldered my backpack. “Hell, give me five minutes with them and they won’t be a problem anymore.”
“I did. I just told you. But if everything goes okay, it won’t ever happen again.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Who said I need anything from you?” I snapped, crossing my arms. His gaze narrowed, and he closed the distance between us.
“You’re getting my help; now tell me what you want.”
“Leave, wait for me out front on your bike. I’ll be there in a moment.”
With that, Garrett did as I asked for once, leaving me to my posh prison. Glancing around, I took it in one last time and smirked. No more rich bitches or fat cats, no more fancy parties, or asshole bodyguards, and fucked up sessions.
Turning sharply, I walked out of the room.
“Kiera,” Lorenzo snapped right as I neared the front door, his hand gripping my shoulder tightly. “Where do you think you’re going?” I held back the urge to scream in both rage and pain as he dug into the still healing lashes on my back.
“I’m going to the mall,” I murmured. “I have a couple things I got last week that I’m going to return.”
“Let’s just see then,” he nearly shouted, yanking open the zipper on my bag. Digging around in the pack, he only came up with clothes. Did he really think I would be stupid enough to try and walk out with something valuable in my bag?
Such a moron. I couldn’t bite back the strangled yelp that ripped from me as he shoved me against the wall, his stranglehold on my shoulder shifting to my face. “Just remember, you little bitch, what happens when you piss off your father… or me,” he sneered. His cruel smile made him look like he had stepped directly out of my nightmares.
I kept a straight face, having learned long ago that Lorenzo thrived on my reactions. Not that it will stop him from trying to get a reaction from me, I raged.
“Got it,” I mumbled through my immobile jaw. Fury, fear, haunted memories of my sessions, of Lorenzo’s harsh reign as my bodyguard swirled in my mind. I just needed to get out the front door…
“Good.” He finally released me, but not after one more painful squeeze of my jaw. A wave of
watery shapes filled my eyes as he stepped back. I ignored the glee within his eyes, striding out of Frankie’s house of horrors for the final time.
I was finally free.
“Let’s get out of here,” I told Garrett over the rumble of his bike. After a while of riding aimlessly, he finally pulled over onto the side of an empty road and turned off his bike.
“So, now what’s the plan? Not like you can just run off,” he said.
“It’s my eighteenth birthday, and I’ve been preparing for this day since I was five years old.” I felt my lips curl into a cold, deadly smile. “Next time I step foot in that house, I’ll burn it to the ground.”
A ringing phone pulled me from the memory, my focus coming back to what was happening around me. Brooks answered, giving a gruff greeting before agreeing to whatever the call was about and hanging up. I took the moment to steal a glance at Garrett and found he was already staring at me. There was a sense of something I couldn't name in his eyes like maybe he knew what I was thinking or maybe he, too, was reliving the same memory. Whatever it was or wasn't, I knew he understood why it had to be me and not Stone in that room with Lorenzo. Garrett gave me an almost imperceptible nod and then pulled his eyes away at the sound of Brooks's voice.
“Security equipment is on its way for delivery. Garrett, Stone, I want you to monitor the switch, keeping an eye out while the system is down. I’ll be meeting up with Nate and coordinating our next drop. You three going to be good working on the details for everything?” he asked me.
“Do you even know me?” I challenged playfully.
&nbs
p; “Mhm, real well, Baby,” he murmured, shooting forward to kiss me before I could react. “Be good.”
“But being bad is so much more fun,” I whispered as he started toward the stairs. Brooks’s smile widened at our familiar banter falling into place. “If anyone should stay out of trouble, it’s you three.”
“Eh,” Brooks responded with a shrug, “probably, but that’s why we have you.” Glancing toward Garrett and Stone, I was met with confusion, their brows furrowed and heads tilted as they looked between the two of us.
“I’m not your babysitter,” I called out as Brooks started up the stairs.
“Uh, I feel like I missed something,” Garrett muttered angrily. “When the fuck did you two make up?”
“Who said we made up?” I countered.
“Yes, because the great and bratty Kiera Casterelli just gets playful with people she’s pissed off with,” he murmured. “Whatever, you know how to reach me if you need me.”
“Aww, Gar, is someone jealous? Miss that little kitten?” Chase teased, practically skipping around the counter and stopping my brooding stepbrother in his path. Hooking an arm around Garrett’s shoulders, Chase turned him to face me from where he’d started to storm off. “I think if you say sorry nicely, she might forgive you. Maybe toss in some energy drinks and a good fuck and you’ll be as good as gold.”
“Fuck off, assassin,” Garrett snapped, avoiding my gaze as he shoved Chase’s arm off him. “I don’t need your help or your meddling crap. Let’s go, Stone.”
“Someone’s temperamental,” Chase stage whispered as Garrett strode away angrily. “Are you going to walk away without giving your girl a kiss, Stone?”
Stone glanced over at me silently, moving around the table until he stopped in front of me. His ebony eyes took in my face, trailing over each plane as if he were memorizing it. I stood, barely breathing as I waited to see what he would do. Half of me wanted him to kiss me while the other half wanted to stab him if he tried.
