The Arrangement 17

by H. M. Ward

  “Lie down, Avery, or I’ll tie you down instead.” Sean has a wicked gleam in his eyes. I’m sure he’s not kidding and I’m also sure he’d like the opportunity.

  “Sean,” Marty taps his watch, “time. The hour is almost up.”

  Sean rises and grabs his hair, tugging it in frustration. He runs his palms down the back of his neck and makes an aggravated sound in the back of his throat. Finally, he turns to look at me. “It was fake. The whole thing.”

  “You’re not hurt?” He shakes his head. “But I saw you get shot—I saw the blood. I saw Marty with the gun.”

  “It was staged, Avery.”

  “What? How? I saw Marty holding the gun and I saw your blood. I thought you were going to die, Sean. You were barely breathing. Are you saying that was all an act? Are you saying I saw an exploding ketchup bottle?” I glance at Marty and back at Sean. “I know what I saw.”

  Sean’s voice is soft and patient. “No, you don’t. No one knows what they saw that night. It was a concert, Avery. There was smoke and flashing lights forcing your eyes to refocus every second. Marty held up his gun so they’d see him clearly raise his weapon. The rest was theatrics and luck. The strobe lights tricked your eyes into seeing something that didn’t actually happen. The fog machine covered me after I fell, the dye packs were top of the line, and the people in the ambulance and at the hospital were paid off. Avery, it was all fake.”

  Chapter 5

  My jaw is hanging open. “Why? Why would you fake being shot?” I can’t believe this.

  “Marty’s boss put a hit on me. I did something that pissed him off and the hit was his version of payback. We orchestrated the shooting and tipped off the press to create media frenzy in the aftermath, making them think Marty took the shot. Avery, we did it all to make sure you didn’t end up in the ground next to your parents.”

  My body goes cold as the remaining tension slips from my face. Shock makes my jaw drop. “My parents?” I think back to my mom’s note and fear pierces my heart. What does he know? “What’s going on? Gabe keeps warning me to run. If you don’t want me to take his advice, if you want to see my face tomorrow, you better tell me—”

  Marty cuts me off, “Or what, Avery? You’ll run away? You’ll punch me in the nuts again? Thanks for that, by the way.” Marty squirms in his chair. The room is too dark to see him clearly.

  Anger surges from within me. I turn to Sean. “You promised me no more lies. We were supposed to tell each other the truth, and this is what you do?”

  “I know.” His voice is level, stoic.

  “You promised me! You said you’d tell me everything, and here’s your chance. What about my parents? Tell me why the hell Marty is here with you. What the hell is going on, Sean?” My heart is thumping in my chest, threatening to explode against my ribs. My stomach sours and regret fills my mouth. “You said you were through lying to me, Sean.”

  My rage turns on my friend, “And Marty—what the fuck? You let me think you tried to shoot the man I love? You let me think you stabbed me in the back? How could you? Both of you! How could you?” The two of them have been using me, tossing me around like a rag doll, as if their actions won’t affect me in the slightest. My anger fades. This is so Sean, so classically Sean Ferro. I gave him my heart and he’s still hiding from me.

  What is he so afraid of? What’s behind those dark eyes that he can’t let me see?

  “Because I–” Marty cuts off what he was going to say and jumps to his feet. His hands fly through the air frantically, as he searches for the words to explain. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to get close to you, get what I needed, and then get the fuck out. Instead, I met you and I liked you.” He glances at Sean like he couldn’t care less what the man thinks. “Avery, I want to protect you from all of this, but you’re right in the middle of it and that’s the worst place to be. I won’t let them hurt you. Not now, not ever. Please believe me. I’d tell you the truth, all of it, if I could, but I can’t.”

  Glaring at him, I don’t know what to say. His words swirl in my mind like a gust of wind. I can’t hold onto them without wanting to cry. He sounds sincere, but I’ve been jerked around too many times to believe him anymore.

  “Who are you? You’re not a college kid with no money if you own this house—it’s worth over a million bucks, easy. And if you’re working for someone who puts hits on people, you’re what? An enforcer? A mercenary? Do you take orders and kill people?” I push up on my elbows and lean against the back of the chaise, finally able to at least sit up. I already knew Sean was into some messed up shit, but Marty’s involvement blindsides me. “Who are you?”

  Worry is pinching his face. I hear it in his voice as it tightens and gets higher. “I’m the same guy you met on campus. I’m the same guy who held you while you slept. Avery, you know me.”

  Sean glances at me, shocked. “You slept with him?”

  “Are you serious?” I blink at Sean. “With everything that’s going on, that’s what you think is messed up here?” Sean doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks away.

  In two steps, Marty crosses the room and shoves Sean aside, trying to take my hand.

  I push further back into the chaise and away from him. “Don’t touch me. Either of you.” Fear taints my voice and tightens my chest. Every muscle in my body is strung tight, ready to snap.

  Marty’s golden eyes look away as he gives up and steps back. “Avery, I’d never hurt you. You just beat the shit out of me and I didn’t even fight back.”

  Fear gives way to anger. It drips down my spine in a wave of hot pain. Working my jaw, I finally manage to spit out the words. “I trusted you! I trusted both of you and told you everything. You,” I say to Sean, “only tell lies, and Marty—you’re just as bad.”

  “You don’t understand.” Marty says, looking horrified. He glances at Sean, silently pleading for help. “I can’t say no. I can’t tell them I won’t do it. It’s not an option and now I’m in this so deep I’ll be lucky if I come out alive. Thanks to Sean, I might—we might all survive.”

  Marty steps toward me again, careful not to touch me. He kneels and places his hand on the arm of the couch. Eye to eye, he says, “Avery, they’ve been aiming for you. The hotel room, the pilot, the other dead hookers—every murder was an attempt on you. They think you know something, and they won’t stop until they either get what they want or you’re out of the way.”

  “What are you talking about?” At first I have no clue, but then I realize what this is about. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’ve finally connected the dots and, consequently, terror turns my stomach into knots. “Who wants me dead?”

  Sean finally speaks. “Victor Campone.”

  Chapter 6

  “What?” My voice squeaks. That name brings a fresh dose of fear, dousing me.

  Sean explains, “Your mother got into some serious shit with his men when she was younger. Your father protected her as long as he could. The night they died, you were supposed to be in that car with them. They found your family and once they had you in their sights, decided their most effective course of action was to eliminate you all. But you stayed home that night and they didn’t know. Someone told them there were three people in the car. Someone lied straight to Campone’s face for you. That same someone also pretended to be gay to get near you.”

  Shocked, I gape at Marty, unable to speak. Marty looks away, holding his hands behind his back. Campone is a drug lord and into shit so dark it makes night look like day. My stomach feels like it’s suspended in a free-fall.

  I glance at Sean. “And what about you?”

  “What about me?” Sean stands rigid next to Marty, who has resumed his frantic pacing. Marty stops and watches Sean. They’re both on edge, tense and ready to fight.

  I laugh coldly and shake my head. I’m so stupid. Never in a million years did I think that someone killed my parents. They weren’t murdered, they were in a car crash. It was one of those freak things that happen
s without purpose. I should have been in the car that night, but I had bitched to Mom that I didn’t want to go. I’m supposed to be in the ground with them.

  Swallowing hard, I find my words and say to Sean, “It wasn’t a coincidence that you stumbled upon me that day when my car got jacked? It wasn’t by chance that you were at the diner? It wasn’t just happy luck that you were my first client at Miss Black’s either, was it?” That’s what Gabe has been trying to tell me all along, but I couldn’t see it. That’s why he hates Sean—he knows all this and probably more. I spit out my suspicion before I lose my nerve. “You were using me to find out whatever Campone wanted? You were just trying to get the information first, weren’t you?”

  “Perhaps.” Sean stares at me with those intense blue eyes and his lips pressed into a hard, thin line.

  I wish he’d say something. I wish he’d wrap his arms around me and tell me this is all a horrible joke, because I can’t accept what it really means. Lip trembling, I force out the question. “So Marty cares about me, and you don’t? You were using me to get what you wanted. Say it, Sean. I know it’s true. You used everything I told you against me.” In that instant, I think of the hospital. Of everything I told him, everything we did. “You even pretended to be in pain at the hospital when I kissed you. It was all fake, all of it.”

  I swing my legs off the chaise and start scanning the room for exits. I can’t stay here another second, but the room tips sideways again. Inhaling slowly, trying to regain control of my body, I look up at Sean. “What does a mobster want with me?”

  Sean just stares at me, his lips pressed together firmly. His hands are in his pockets, and he’s wearing his old leather jacket. His helmet is on a table behind him. Every last bit of this was planned, and I missed it. All our nights together, all the things I said—to both of them. Confidence dies in my mouth and I want to run, to hide, but I can’t. Clutching the edge of the cushions in my hands, I squeeze hard, waiting for his response.

  Instead, Marty answers, “Documents. Your mother unknowingly worked as a bookkeeper for Campone before you were born. At first, they probably looked like nothing to her, ledgers, supply lists, contracts, just regular business paperwork—but once she realized what she had, she knew Campone would be willing to kill to get it back. By then, it was too late to turn back. She was smart. Realizing the danger she was in, she ran but continued to hand in her work on time, passing it through a chain of people, as she put more and more space between herself and Victor Campone. It was weeks before Campone realized what had happened, what she knew. Campone searched for her, tracking down each person she’d come in contact with, each claiming truthfully they didn’t know where she was or what she knew. He didn’t believe them, though, and a lot of people lost their lives. She kept running, but held on to copies of the documents.

  “When your mother took the job, she had no clue who she was working for, she just knew she was pregnant and needed the money to take care of you, Avery. It looked like a great job with flexible hours. Somewhere, while on the run, she met your dad and they both fell off the map. Campone didn’t find them, but he never stopped looking. He knew your mother kept the final ledger she was working on, but he suspected she made copies of her other work as well. If she had involved the police, your mother had the power to take down his entire empire with one blow. The night she died, something spooked her and she took the documents with her, trying to move them to a safer place. The bulk of her documents burned in the fire, but several are missing.”

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  Sean answers, “Based on the recovered pieces, it appears that several pertinent documents were not in the stack. She put what she was carrying in the glove box, so the center of the stack wasn’t consumed by the fire. The most damning ledgers she worked on are still out there somewhere.”

  That’s why my mother was always so on edge. That’s why she was compulsively cleaning that spot in the cabinets. She probably did it without noticing. When I was younger, she’d tell Daddy to pack up, and we’d take off for an awesome vacation in a blink. I thought it was her being fun, but this makes me see her in a whole new light. Mom was scared. She was afraid of them finding her right up until the night she died. If I’d not found the coffee can, I wouldn’t believe any of this, but I did find it. I know she was frightened.

  My throat feels unbearably dry, and my body begins to tremble. I tense, trying to stop it, not wanting to share this heartache with them. It’s a piece of me they’ll never know, and I want to keep it that way.

  “What’s in these documents that’s worth killing for?”

  Sean’s lip twitches and one side pulls up into a crooked smile. “What you’d expect—secrets, money, power. Every illegal transaction between Campone and half of New York’s elite: businessmen, congressmen, old money, and new money. Victor didn’t discriminate; he accepted anyone’s money freely. Everything in those documents is damning. Your mother worked as a bookkeeper at a small grocery store in Ronkonkoma. She was a smart woman, but she didn’t realize who was on the other end when she started tugging on that thread. Her world unraveled. She ran, hid, and took what she found with her. My guess is that she kept the documents hidden to use as leverage if Campone ever captured her or a member of her family. The night she died, those documents were being moved to a vault. Campone’s men took the opportunity to tie up loose ends and slammed a drunk driver into their car.”

  “How?” I blink back tears and swallow hard. “How could you know all this, all this time, and not tell me?”

  Sean stands there, rigid, unblinking. “Some things are better left alone. This is one of them. You had no idea what was happening, but you’re being played move by move, inching toward an early grave.”

  “And I suppose your name is in those papers?”

  Sean shakes his head. He opens his mouth to speak and then steps away, turning his back on me.

  “Answer me! This isn’t a game, Sean! I thought you died! I thought Marty killed you!”

  When he turns back to look at me, Sean’s voice is cold. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “The hell it doesn’t! You knew I love you, and you used that against me! But why am I surprised? I should have seen this coming. Falling in love with a Ferro is dangerous. They steal your heart and destroy your soul. Well, you know what? I’m not dead yet.”

  We stare at each other for way too long. Sean works his jaw, not wanting to answer, but I already know he’s going to deny ever feeling anything for me. The thing is I know it’s a lie—I feel it. The tension between us is hot and palpable. Marty senses it too, based on the way he stands at the window, giving us more space. One man admits he cares about me, the other won’t. I roll my eyes and stand up. I think I’m going to be fine, but everything spins and I fall into Sean’s chest.

  He catches me quickly in those strong arms and holds me to his chest. Looking into his face, I try one last time. “Why won’t you say it? Sean, I know how you feel.”

  “I tried to return you.”

  “The key word there is tried. You tried to return me, but then you bought me again and again after that.”

  Sean watches me and tries not to smile. His voice drops to a whisper, “I tried to love you, the way you want, the way you need and it nearly got you killed.” He tangles his fingers in my hair and lifts my chin. “This needs to end, we need to end if you want to walk away alive.”

  Silence spans between us, becoming deafeningly loud.

  Sean finally breaks the silence, “I want the documents.”

  “I don’t have them.” Defiant, I lie to his face.

  “I know you do. There’s been a squatter in a home I recently acquired. You wouldn’t happen to know her, would you?” Sean looks so smug. I shove him away, and he has the audacity to smile at me.

  “You bought my parents’ house?”

  “Campone bought it before me, trying to find the documents. His men searched every inch of that home and came up with nothing, but I saw you c
limbing around the kitchen. Want to tell me what you found?”

  “Mom’s cash stash. No papers.”

  “Don’t do this, Avery.” Sean’s brow bunches together and his voice is strained. “I can’t protect you from this.”

  “Obviously.” Glancing at Marty, I add, “and neither can he. You two brought the damn mafia in tow.” Sean and I are standing, facing each other, gazes locked. “Since it seems I have a limited life expectancy, I want to leave. Now.”

  Sean blocks me after I twist out of his grip. “No, not until you tell me where they are.”

  “Campone is dead, Sean.”

  Sean gets in my face, and his warm breath washes over my lips as he rants. “His men aren’t, Avery. There’s a power vacuum and every single one of those guys is trying to find you, torture you, and make you wish you were dead. We can help you. Give me the documents, and Marty will get you out of here.”

  “Why not you?” As soon as I ask the question, Sean’s gaze drops, almost as if he’s ashamed, and I know his plan. He’s trying to take Campone’s place. I knew Sean had some shady business dealings, but this isn’t like him. It can’t be true. But the way he moves away from me says volumes.

  “Marty, take her back.” Sean steps away from me and walks out of the room.

  Marty puts his hand on my arm to lead me out of the house, but I shake it off, storming after Sean instead. “Come back here! You can’t do this! Have you lost your mind? You’re a businessman, not a crime lord. Sean Ferro, stop!”

  I follow Sean out of the room, up some stairs and into an upstairs hallway, yelling at him all the way, though he doesn’t appear to hear me. Marty doesn’t follow.

  Chapter 7

  Sean storms into a little room, and I burst in behind him. It’s not until we’re inside that he rounds on me. Moving swiftly, both his hands are suddenly coming at my head. He uses his body to slam me back into the door as it shuts behind me.