Rockwell Agency: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  “Well, now that we know each other,” Jordan said, continuing to walk right up to him. “I think that we should have a little chat.”

  “Oh, you do …,” the man said. “Well, I think we shouldn’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have to kill you now, which happens to be really inconvenient for me.”

  “I know all about Natalie,” Jordan said, securing his attention with just that one name. “I know that she’s been struggling. I know that she’s not ready for this. She’s supposed to kill Alana, but she can’t do it. She wants to please her father and hang with the family, like she has in the past, but she’s not there anymore. Her heart isn’t in it. And your heart, well, your heart belongs to her. The best thing for Natalie is to be cut out of this whole operation, but since her father is running it, that’s going to be hard. Unless there isn’t an operation anymore.”

  The man stared at her as she spoke, his expression dark but otherwise unhelpful. When she finished, he glanced around the parking lot. “Who are you?”

  “I’m someone who wants the same thing Natalie wants,” Jordan said. “I want her not to kill Alana, and I want her father put out of business so that she’s never in that position again.”

  “Because you care so much about Natalie?” the man asked. “Bullshit.”

  “Right. Bullshit,” Jordan said. “I don’t give a fuck about Natalie. We just happen to want the same things, and I think that we can work together to get them.”

  “I shot your friend.”

  Jordan nodded. “You sure did.”

  “And now you want me to work with you to undermine the operation that I work for.”

  Jordan shrugged a shoulder, her arms crossing over her chest as she stared him down. “I get the feeling that you don’t really want to work there anymore, and you don’t want Natalie there anymore. I’m a practical woman. If we have the same goals, we’re on the same team. I don’t have to like you, and you don’t have to like me. I just need a way to take down Sal. Are you in or out?”

  “Get in the car.”

  Chapter 32

  Wes

  Wes was vaguely aware of being walked out of the hotel. The drug they had injected into him was some sort of date rape drug that had left him vaguely aware of being completely incapable of resisting or understanding anything around him. He leaned heavily on one of the guards as they got out of the elevator on the bottom floor and slipped out the back door. He collapsed into the back seat of the car that the guards led him to, and he was in and out of consciousness for the entire ride. He felt nauseated at one point, and struggled not to throw up in the back seat. Those thoughts dominated far more than questions about where he was going, or what would happen to him when he got there. His mind wasn’t clear enough for such concerns.

  He barely remembered being taken into a building, but when he did open his eyes, he was staring at a stark ceiling with lights that were too bright. His head felt slightly clearer, but when he struggled to sit up, the pain from his shoulder and the dizziness in his head combined to almost make him unconscious again.

  “Be careful.”

  Wes’ eyes snapped open, the familiar voice cutting through his haze. He turned his head towards the voice, slowly zeroing in on Alana. “What are you doing here? Where am I?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “That answers both questions. I’ve been sitting in this room for hours, waiting for someone to walk in and shoot me. Then they brought you in, unconscious, and threw you down there.”

  “How long ago?”

  “I don’t know,” Alana said. “Half an hour? You were talking in your sleep about dragons.”

  Wes winced. “Anything that made sense?”

  “No, I couldn’t really hear you.”

  That was something, at least. He hoped that he hadn’t said anything else to anyone about dragons. He would never betray Jordan’s trust, but if he was unconscious, he didn’t have any control over what he might mutter.

  Wes tried to sit up again, moving very slowly this time. He looked around the room, finding it empty, except for Alana’s chair that she was tied to. The walls were bare, the windows revealed only the night sky, offering no hint as to where they were, and the floor was cold and hard.

  “What have they told you?” Wes asked, starting to get some flickers of memory from before his assailants had injected him with whatever drug had caused him to offer no resistance as they led him out of the hotel.

  “Sal is the one who put out a hit on me,” Alana said, her voice sounding dull and far away. “I stole gems. Just three. And apparently …I don’t know. I apparently got drunk and told Jake that I was part of an operation. I don’t remember it. I don’t know how he would have known that.”

  “Was that before or after you fucked Jake?”

  “Don’t,” Alana said, too exhausted to fight with him. “It’s very clear that I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I don’t need to hear it from you. I’m going to die for them.”

  Wes felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman, although she had brought this on herself, and he was now in the same position just because he was associated with her. He didn’t trust her enough to even try to untie her, but he couldn’t help the fact that he remembered a time when she hadn’t been this terrible. “Why didn’t you ever just talk to me?” he asked her, pushing himself across the floor, so that he could lean his good shoulder up against the wall and take the pressure off his back. “Why weren’t you ever honest with me, Alana? I feel like I never knew you at all.”

  “I don’t know,” Alana said. “I thought I could handle it all, I guess. I thought it would all be fine—that I would do this for a while and then stop.” She shook her head. “I was a fool. I still am. I keep trying to think of a way to get out of this, but there isn’t one. We’re trapped, and Sal is going to kill us. His entire operation is ruined now. His boss is breathing down his neck. He’s missing someone in my position—someone obtaining the gems. His office location has been exposed. He’s not going to just let me walk away from that.”

  “He’s not going to let either of us walk away from it,” Wes muttered, looking towards the window. He had to find a way out of this room because he wasn’t ready to give up, like Alana apparently had. He still had too much to fight for. And he had Jordan. He had complete faith that she would show up for him. All he had to do was stay alive until she got here, and then she would take out all of them. She wasn’t an actual superhero, but she was definitely his.

  “I’m sorry that I got you into this,” Alana said. “Although I still don’t really know how you got involved with the person who was sent to kill me. I’ve been trying to figure that out. Why did she talk to you that night instead of coming after me?”

  Wes shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “I swear …I’ll take it to my grave.”

  Wes looked back at her, seeing a beautiful, glamorous girl who’d had all of her trappings stripped away from her. She looked small and sad sitting there, her shoulders slumped to keep some of the strain off her arms and her hair hanging down in her face.

  “I can hear people’s thoughts,” Wes said, figuring that it didn’t matter one way or another whether he told her. Either she was going to die, or they were all going to get out of this situation and have far bigger concerns—like reclaiming life. “It’s a new thing. Since we broke up. I mean, I don’t think the breakup triggered it or anything. But I went to Jordan because I heard Jake thinking about sleeping with you, and I knew that I needed to figure out why I was hearing these things. If I could trust what I was hearing, you know? She was just going to cure me. It’s called transposed thought or something. But then I heard someone talking about a murder that they couldn’t get up the nerve to commit. And we started investigating. I had no idea that the intended victim was you until after I had been shot.”

  Alana was staring at him in disbelief. Her face went from stunned to disdainful, and she turned her head away from him. “You asshole. You could have just stuck wi
th saying you didn’t want to tell me. You don’t have to mock me.”

  It didn’t really surprise him that she didn’t believe him. Alana had always believed that she had all the answers. Nothing that anyone else had ever thought of or come up with had ever been good enough for her. It always had to be her idea and her way or the highway. Alana didn’t believe that there were people who could hear other people’s thoughts—therefore there weren’t those people. At least not in her mind.

  Part of Wes wanted to have it out with her and explain just how much he had realized that his relationship with her had always been toxic. Part of him wanted to tell her that he was head over heels for Jordan, and that they had their issues to work through, but he thought he could see himself falling in love with her, and that he could already tell that what he felt for Jordan was so much stronger and purer than anything that had ever been between him and Alana.

  But it wasn’t worth it. He was in pain and groggy, and he had both of their lives to save, though he had no idea how to do that or even what they were up against. There was no time or energy to devote to arguing with Alana about things that she would never fully understand.

  Jordan, if you can hear me—come quickly. Find us quickly.

  He sent his thoughts out to her, knowing that it was futile, but he was feeling closer to her just by doing it.

  There were footsteps moving towards them, and Alana tensed, tears beginning to stream down her face. “This is it,” she whispered. “They’re going to do it now. They keep coming in, and I think each time that they’re going to kill me this time. It’s been too long—they’re going to do it this time. They were waiting for you, and now they’re going to kill me.”

  “Shh,” Wes said, trying to move towards her chair but feeling too dizzy. “Shh—don’t panic. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  It was an empty promise, but he was going to do his best to keep it. Even still, as the door opened and Sal walked in, Wes felt his heart thud against his chest.

  “Where is your friend?” Sal demanded. “We had her on our radar, and now she’s disappeared. Where was she going?”

  He was looking directly at Wes, ignoring Alana, who was now sobbing in earnest, likely due to the gun that was stuck in Sal’s belt.

  Wes stared at the man, pretending to be too out of it to understand his question. He let his head loll around, and he prevented his eyes from focusing. It wasn’t difficult—he still felt only half-present. Mumbling something indiscernible, he let his eyes close.

  “Dammit,” Sal said, stalking over and grabbing Wes’ chin to jerk his head up. “Look at me. Where was Jordan going? My men were en route to that stupid bar that you keep frequenting, but she’s not there. Her car is there. So, where is she?”

  This was news to Wes, but he didn’t let his face register anything at all, staring blankly at Sal.

  Frustrated, Sal stood up. He grabbed his gun from his belt, flicked the safety off, and spun on Alana, shooting a bullet straight past her head, so close that it buzzed in her ear. “Stop crying!” he demanded. “Aaron, get in here! How much of the drug did you give him? He should be more alert by now.”

  “Just what you gave me,” Aaron said, stepping into the room. Wes vaguely recognized him as one of the men who had come to his hotel room. “He’s probably playing you.”

  “Oh, he’s playing me?” Sal asked, his voice cold. “He’s pulling one over on me, is he? It’s not that you can’t follow simple instructions and deliver an appropriate dose. It’s that I’m too stupid to see through the acting skills of a half-conscious landscaper.”

  Aaron seemed to realize that he was on thin ice, and he stood back, putting his hands up. “Listen, boss, all I gave him was what was in the tube. That’s all. Maybe he’s having a bad reaction.”

  “And has anyone found Jordan yet?”

  Aaron shook his head. “No. Not that I’ve heard of.”

  Sal turned towards Alana again, who had only cried harder when the bullet had flown past her. Grabbing her hair, Sal yanked her head back. “I am starting to lose my patience,” he said with a clenched jaw. “Do you know where Jordan would have gone? Who would have met her at the bar?”

  “I don’t know,” Alana sobbed. “I don’t know anything. Please—please don’t kill me. I swear I don’t know, but if I did, I would tell you. Wes knows—I’m sure he knows. He’s not as out of it as he’s pretending. He was talking to me. He’s alert. He knows where she is. I’m sure he does—ask him. Please—ask him. I don’t know.”

  Wes shouldn’t have been surprised that she would throw him under the bus, but he still was. She was the kind of person who would do whatever it took to save her own skin, even though she was the only reason that he was involved in this mess in the first place.

  Sal turned towards Wes and narrowed his eyes. Wes kept his face slack, hoping that Sal wouldn’t trust Alana. That he would see through her blatant attempt to divert attention from herself. But his wish was not granted.

  Sal turned back towards Alana and smiled coldly down at her. “You just offered your last bit of useful information. And I’m sick to death of putting up with your theatrics. I should have done this a long time ago, and then maybe none of us would be in this position. I wouldn’t be on the cusp of losing control of an organization that has been making me millions.”

  Before Alana could respond, Sal lifted the gun and shot her.

  Wes gasped, looking away as Alana’s blood splattered all over the hard, barren floor. The shot rang in his ears, and his heart thudded in his chest, the pulse of it ringing in his ears along with the gunshot that had just echoed around the room.

  He didn’t have to look at Alana to know that she was dead. There was no way that anyone could have survived a shot at point-blank range like that. Wes waited for the onslaught of grief that he might have expected, but he was in too much shock. All he felt was regret—regret that Alana had made choices that had thrown her life away, and that he hadn’t been able to stop her from doing it.

  The smell of blood was overwhelming, and Wes had to struggle to get beyond that. He turned his head back towards Sal, watching the man as he walked closer.

  “I hate that I had to do that to your friend,” Sal said, not sounding sorry at all. “I meant for her to be a path for my daughter to get back into the family business, but I couldn’t tolerate her any further. I should never have listened to Jake about including her in the business.”

  Before Wes could fully process what Sal had just said, he heard another familiar voice at the door.

  “Yeah, that was my bad, Sal. But don’t worry,” Jake said, walking into the room and meeting Wes’s eyes. “We’ll get this all sorted out. Right, buddy?”

  Chapter 33

  Jordan

  “What’s your name?” Jordan asked, as the man who had shot Wes drove along through the dark. “It seems like we should get to know each other.”

  He cut his eyes over at her. He’d been silent since they had begun driving, clearly wondering if he had done the right thing, inviting her along. “Russ,” he said, his voice gruff.

  “Hi, Russ,” Jordan said. “I’m Jordan.” He might already know that, but she figured there was no harm in pleasantries. “Thank you for letting me come along.”

  “Yeah,” he said, dismissing her statement as he grabbed for his phone. “I need to call Natalie again.”

  “She’s disappeared, huh?” Jordan asked, as Russ dialed. “She’s really struggling, I guess. What happened to her?”

  Russ cut his eyes over at her then looked back at the road as the phone rang in the background, trying to connect to Natalie. “Her father is an asshole,” Russ said. “That’s what happened to her.”

  “So, you don’t work for Sal?’

  “I work with Natalie,” Russ said. “Sal is an unfortunate consequence of being with Natalie. He wants her to be something that she isn’t. Well, she isn’t that person anymore. Maybe she was one time. Before Hilary.”

  “Hi
lary?” Jordan asked, keeping her tone casual as though they were just two acquaintances catching up with each other.

  His phone call went to voicemail, and Russ swore under his breath, tossing his phone aside. “Hilary was Natalie’s sister.”

  “Was?”

  “She died,” Russ said. “Sal had two daughters. He wanted sons, there’s no doubt. But he made up for not having sons by forcing both of his daughters to train for the family business anyway. He had them shooting and fighting at a young age. Both of them. Hilary was better at it, and she liked it more. Natalie did it because her father wanted her to, and she needs Sal’s approval for some reason. But Natalie isn’t a fighter. You could probably tell that the other night.”

  Jordan nodded. “I definitely could.”

  “Natalie and Hilary were on a job together one night,” Russ said. “Their job was to break into a house—one of Sal’s contacts. He befriends wealthy older women, learns everything there is to know about them, then feeds that information to his associates, like Natalie and Hilary, and they go in and rob the older women blind. Natalie and Hilary did a job together one night, but they almost got caught. In the chaos of everything …Natalie fired off a shot, but she missed her target and hit Hilary.”

  “Oh God.” Jordan actually felt a genuine pull of sympathy for the woman who had tried to kill both Alana and Wes. “That’s horrible.”

  “Natalie struggled. For years. It’s been three now, I guess. She’s only started to get back into the business in the past six months. I begged her not to do it, but Natalie is desperate to be accepted.”

  Jordan nodded again, sweeping a hand through her hair. “Wow. So …who are you to Natalie?”

  “We live together,” Russ said, glancing at her again. “When Sal assigned her to this job, he told me to watch over her. This isn’t usually my kind of work. I met Natalie in a grief counseling group, and she was it for me from Day One. I was a security guard before I lost my son. When Natalie and I started dating, I found out what she did and I …well, I bought in. It was the only way to be with her. It took a long time for me to win Sal’s trust, but I finally have it. But I wish she could break free of him. I wish that I could help her get out. That’s the only reason I let you in the car.”