“We’re just getting started, Olivia Scott.”
26
Connor
I exited the Capital James Bank and glanced at the famous bull of Wall Street as I jumped into my Jeep.
“Is it done?” Jake asked from behind the wheel, before shifting gears and joining the rush of cars on the street.
“Yeah. I’ll have to swing back by the office later when everyone’s gone. But the plan should work.” I hoped it would, at least.
“You hear from Olivia yet?” he asked a few blocks later, just as we passed the sushi restaurant Olivia and I had eaten at—well, almost eaten at.
I reached into my pocket for my phone. “No. I’ve called her five times now. I’m getting worried.”
“I’m sure she’s just tied up with Declan.”
Tied up? An image of Olivia in bondage and Declan, the damn devil, wielding some sort of flogger popped into my mind. Bile rose at the thought. “You think the guard will be home?” I needed to snuff the disgusting image from my mind before I crushed the phone in my palm.
“The other guard said he didn’t work again until Saturday. I’m not sure if it will do us any good, but I’d like to see how much he knows before you walk into the shark tank tonight.”
“You think he’s on Konstantin’s payroll?”
“I don’t know, but the man is an accessory to murder. Regardless.”
Murder. My father, Tyson, Olivia’s sister . . . It was all too damn much.
And I still hadn’t shed a tear. What was wrong with me? Were my tear ducts broken, or had I hardened into some steely inanimate object, incapable of tears?
I hadn’t cried since my friend was murdered in Iraq. I should’ve done better recon. I shouldn’t have missed the insurgent.
“You all right, man?”
“Just thinking about Jim.”
Surprise flickered across his face as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “Jim Kazanski?” Jake had been on a different mission than me, but he knew Jim.
We all knew Jim. Funny-as-hell Jim.
“Why are you thinking about him?”
“I don’t know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes.
His hand was on my shoulder as he stopped at a light. “It wasn’t your fault.” His voice was thick and threaded with emotion. “I told Jenny what you said.”
My eyes popped open. “What?”
He removed his hand when the light changed. “I know you thought she couldn’t handle it, but I would want to know if I had been her. I didn’t want to tell you at the time—I knew how bad you felt after losing him.”
“You told her Jim was going to propose?”
Jake nodded as I studied his profile, his eyes on the road. “Jim said if anything ever happened to him, he wanted me to look out for her.”
I lowered my head. “Fuck.” A tangle of emotions pulled at me, but my eyes remained clear.
“I have no intention of delivering any message to your ex, F.Y.I.” Jake parked the Jeep. “You don’t get to die on me.”
I looked up at my friend. He was the oldest of all my friends—close to thirty-five—and I always felt he had assumed the role of older brother as if a few years made any difference at this age. Still, it was nice knowing I had someone like him in my corner.
“We’re going to take down the Russian mob, Denzel-style. No worries.”
A smile tugged at my lips. I couldn’t help it. “Denzel-style, huh?”
“You know that movie where he took down the Russian mob—like all of it—with a flick of his wrist? We can do that. No problem.” He started for the door. “Hell, we should study that movie so we can learn a few things.”
“I’m not sure about you, but I don’t need to learn a damn thing,” I joked, allowing his cheerfulness to comfort the sick swell of emotions in my stomach. “We could teach him a few things, though.”
Jake came around next to me after hopping out of the Jeep. “Sure, buddy. And I’m Arnold.”
I glared at him. “More like Eastwood, dude.”
He smoothed a hand over his face and drew his lips into a straight line as he narrowed his eyes, giving me his infamous Eastwood impression. “‘Ever notice how you come across somebody once in a while you shouldn’t have messed with? That’s me,’” he quoted in a low, deep voice.
Reality slapped me in the face as we entered the apartment building. “Come on, man. We have a Russian mob to take down and a girl to save.” It felt good to be my old, carefree self. But I wasn’t sure if that was who I needed to be right now. Being pissed off would more than likely get me or someone else killed, though. I couldn’t be off my game, either way.
Not when it came to Olivia’s life on the line.
Jake’s fist tapped the door of the security guard’s home, which sat on the first floor of an older building. The graffiti on the walls and the overpowering odor of urine led me to believe this man hadn’t saved up for retirement when he was younger.
He’d be a prime target for the Russian mob. Money could buy a lot of things: food, utilities, people . . .
“Who is it?” The old mans’ voice called out from behind the door.
Jake swooped his FBI badge up in front of the peephole. I wasn’t sure if it was dangerous to be waving that around, but at this point, I wasn’t sure if it mattered. The deal with Declan was tonight, and after that, all the cards would be on the table.
The door slowly creaked open. The man’s brows rose and fell as he studied us. “You two,” was all he said.
The smell of cigars jabbed me in the face as he spoke, and I had to stop myself from choking at the stench. “We need a word.” Jake entered the man’s apartment without an invitation, practically forcing the older man to step back and out of the way.
We made our way down the narrow hallway and into the living room of the dimly lit apartment. A large flat screen TV dominated the wall, surrounded by one small sofa and an oversized, brown leather reclining chair.
The man reached for the cigar in the ashtray next to the chair, and he lowered the volume on the golf tournament that was playing on the TV.
Great. This man had helped criminals in order to chill at home and watch golf on the big screen. I wanted to shout that he’d helped murder my father, but I bit my tongue.
Jake shoved his FBI badge in his pocket. “Why’d you lie to us when we met with you the other day?”
The man inhaled and blew cigar smoke off to the side, seeming nothing like the Santa Claus lookalike we’d encountered before. “Why’d you lie? You didn’t mention you were FBI,” he spoke after a beat.
“That wasn’t pertinent at the time,” Jake answered. “You deleted Edward Matthew’s visitor list from the computer. Why?”
The man’s eyes flitted to mine for a brief moment. I shoved my hands in my pockets, letting my FBI friend work his magic.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pushed the cigar back into his mouth.
“How much did the Russian mob pay you to make that list disappear?”
“Russian mob?” The cigar slipped free from his lips. “What are you talking about?”
“The two men you allowed up into Edward Matthew’s home are members of the Russian mafia.” Jake crossed his arms.
The man rubbed a hand over his white beard, put out his cigar in the ashtray and sank into his reclining chair. “Listen, they were on the list.” He held up his hands in front of him as I glowered at him. “Your father,” he looked at me, “put them on the approved list back in April.”
That was when they’d been released from prison, according to Jake. “If he put them on the list, why were you so quick to erase it?” I challenged, but attempted to maintain my cool.
“Because he took them off a few weeks later, right before he—um . . .” He frowned at me. “They told me they needed to talk with him, that it was important. They paid me to let them go up.” He snaked a hand around to the back of his neck. “I thought that you might discover they were
removed from the list but allowed access. I didn’t want to get in trouble.”
So my father had the sense to take those murderers off the list. But why would he let them into his home?
“There has to be more to this story.” I shook my head. “What is it you’re not telling us?” I removed my hands from my pockets and braced the arms of his chair, leaning in, my face close to his stinking, cigar-infused breath. “Tell me, dammit.”
The man stared up at me with apologetic eyes. I started to open my mouth, but my phone was vibrating. Olivia?
Jolting upright, I dug into my pocket and clutched my phone. “What the hell?”
“What is it?” Jake came over to me.
“Olivia just texted that she’s boarding a plane for Vegas.”
“Why’s she going to Vegas?” Jake looked at me, the lines of his face pulling together in worry.
I quickly dialed up her number, needing the answer myself. “Voicemail.” I redialed a few times, only to be greeted by the sweet sound of her voice asking me to leave a message. “She must already be on the plane.”
“Why would Declan send her to Vegas?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s better she’s not here when this all goes down, but I still don’t like the idea of her being out there. Alone.”
“Are we through?” the man interrupted us.
“You got my father killed, asshole. It will never be through.”
His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak. He covered his face with his hands, and I didn’t stick around to see what else he might have had to say. “I need to make a call.”
Once outside, I checked the recent flights out of New York to Vegas and dialed up my friend Ben.
“Hey, man. I’m sorry I haven’t been any help,” he responded after one ring.
“You can be of help now.”
“Sure. What can I do?”
“Remember Olivia from the club?” I asked, finding that my hand had clenched into a ball at my side.
“Of course.”
“She’s on her way to Vegas, and I need you to keep an eye out for her. Make sure she stays safe. She should be at The Phoenix tonight.” I wasn’t sure why Declan wanted her in Vegas when the meeting was a few hours away, but at least I knew she wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.
“She in danger?”
God, I hoped not. “Maybe. Just watch out for her, okay?” My voice broke.
Olivia
A midnight blackness greeted me. I squinted a few times and moved my hands around in front of me, trying to figure out where I was.
My skull was going to explode. Something hard brushed against the fingers of my outstretched hand.
A blinding light flashed on a moment later, and a moan escaped my lips.
“You’re awake, I see.” Declan’s voice sounded like an echo, surrounding and teasing me.
I still couldn’t see. I closed one eye and squinted out the other. A sharp and sore throb in my jaw, which shot straight up my cheek and to my forehead, had me closing my one good eye again.
What had he done to me?
“Where am I?” I slurred a little, realizing my bottom lip was swollen and cut. Forcing my one eye open again, I tried to focus on what was before me.
Bars. The other cage wasn’t too far away.
Jesus. I wanted to cry, but I was too proud. And the pain would be terrible. He must have knocked me out cold.
“You’re exactly where you should be,” Declan responded, and I could almost make out his silhouette. I had to snap my eyes shut again.
“Why are you doing this?” I grumbled.
My brain scrambled to make sense of everything, but there was only one answer: Andrei or Oleg had alerted Declan to who I was. Of course, he might not know I was FBI. He might just think I’m on a revenge mission, like Connor did . . . But did it matter? He had me in a Goddamn cage.
“Olivia Scott, my sweet assistant. You know exactly why.” The sound of his voice chilled my body.
I pressed up against the cool bars of the cage. With my one eye open, I caught sight of Declan with his hands casually hidden inside his pockets.
He was wearing a dark suit, as though he was about to broker a deal. Oh God, with Connor.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I slipped the words out before softly moaning at the pain that wreaked havoc on my face. “I promise.”
He cocked his head at me, and I tried to make out my surroundings. I could hear noise from above, maybe. I wasn’t sure. Fighting against the ringing in my ears, I listened.
Were we in the basement of a club? There was concrete flooring, cement walls, and pipes trailing above my head in the exposed ceiling. It was a vast space. My nose wasn’t working great, but it felt cool, damp, and had a bit of a musty smell. Yes, it had to be a basement.
Was it The Phoenix? I’d never been down below before. It couldn’t be late enough for the club to be open already, could it? How long had I been unconscious?
“What time is it? Where am I?”
Declan removed his hands from his pockets, pressed one palm to the outside of the cage and smirked at me. Damn bastard. “You’ve been curious about these cages, and now you know. They’re reserved for naughty girls like you.”
I glanced down in the direction of Declan’s gaze. My tank top was spray-painted in my own blood—probably from my lips. I rolled my tongue over my teeth, checking for any missing ones. Thank God, they appeared to be intact. Of course, what did that matter? I would probably never make it out alive. Especially if Konstantin had anything to do with it.
“Declan, please.”
He took a step back and folded his arms. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Liv.” His dark brown eyes bore into me as if he was attempting to collect my soul. “Who killed Jessie, anyway—was it Andrei or Oleg? They couldn’t even remember who had pulled the trigger.” He casually scratched the back of his neck, but I knew he was goading me.
He crouched down so we were at eye level and he gripped the bars, pressing his face close to the metal. “You learn anything interesting while spying on me?” His voice was low, a seductive whisper of darkness, attempting to rope me in.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“FBI agent Olivia Scott. It’s so nice to finally meet the real you.”
My lungs expanded, needling my ribs, and I released a long, slow breath. The thin glimmer of hope disappeared. He knew the truth; there’d be no way out.
He shifted back to a standing position but kept his eyes on me. “You seem surprised. I can tell by the look in your,” he paused and grinned, “one good eye.”
Asshole. “I don’t know what you think you know, but I won’t tell you a damn thing.”
He snickered while he popped open a button on his blazer and crossed his arms. “You actually think you have anything valuable to say to me?” He flashed his teeth.
How’d he find out? Andrei and Oleg wouldn’t have been able to figure out I was FBI, right?
“People know where I am. They’ll come looking for me.” Blake. Connor. One of them would find me. They had no idea where I was, but they would look.
I had to cling to that hope, at least.
Declan pulled a phone with a metallic case from his pocket, a phone I assumed to be mine. “I told your boyfriend that you were needed in Vegas. I didn’t want him worrying about you.”
Connor. So, Declan didn’t know about Blake? “Connor’s not involved in this. I promise.” My desperate plea to save him was probably wasted breath, but I had to try. “We reconnected. It’s just sex with him.” God, I hated saying that to Declan, but I’d do anything to keep Connor safe.
Declan’s lips twisted into another sinister smile. “I’m fully aware of your relationship with Connor. In fact, I supported it.”
What in the hell was he talking about? I was tired of playing his mind games. “What do you want from me?” I shouted, and then flinched.
“You’re just a tool, Olivia.
Don’t get too excited.”
“A tool for what?” The words sprang free from my lips as I rose to my feet.
“You’re tough.” He circled the cage, and my head shifted each direction to maintain contact with him as he moved. “But you’re not tough enough, or smart enough, to go up against me. Or the Russian mafia. Everyone who has tried has failed.”
He stopped in front of me, and I clung to the bars, dying to break free and knock the glorified sneer from his face. He thought he had won, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t give up. “I managed to fool you for a pretty long time, don’t you think?” I responded, knowing I shouldn’t taunt him, but unable to stop myself.
“You think I didn’t know? Or that your sudden promotion had to do with your fantastic ass, I mean, your managerial skills?” His breath was on my face; my skin crawled at his words.
“Someone will find me. Konstantin might think he’s untouchable, but you aren’t.” I took a shaky step back.
He reached for the knot at his tie and tightened it while peering up at me from hooded eyes. “Oh, you mean your boss?” His long fingers blazed down his tie before he tucked it inside his suit jacket and clasped the button of his blazer once again. “Blake?” He scoffed
Fear melted my insides, turning me into nothing more than liquid. The floor dropped beneath me. “What happened to him?” I choked.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
27
Connor
I glanced down at the steel case that housed the EMF gun. When I dropped by the office, I had dismissed all employees, demanding they take a long weekend for all of their hard work. It hadn’t been easy to get those go-getters to leave work early, but I had no choice. I couldn’t exactly waltz out of the building with the technology and go unnoticed.
I didn’t take the gun then, though. I waited and went back once the office was cleared out. I couldn’t risk raising any red flags if anyone saw me with the case. CEO or not, it could cause problems.
“I need to talk to you before you go,” Jake hollered as I stood by the front door, prepared to leave.
The Hidden Truths Series Box Set Page 68
