Vengeance: The Program Book 4

by N. M. Catalano

  “No doubt, Gwendolyn,” Mrs. Merriweather swats Gwen’s hand away. “You and Bull be carrying on til all hours.”

  “NAN.”

  Gwen turns as bright as a blinking beacon.

  I’ve got my tea cup in front of my mouth again, hiding my shit eating grin. This cup is coming in real handy. Damn right we were. Right back at it first thing this morning.

  “You be adults,” Mrs. Merriweather dishes out three plates of food. “Sit yourself down lass, the both of you must have worked up quite an appetite, if you’re anything like your grandfather and I were. The man was an animal, ‘e was.” She sets the plates down on the table after delivering that piece of too much information.

  “Lord Nan, do not tell us about your sex life,” Gwen huffs.

  Yeah, please don’t. I do not need that visual.

  “’eavens, girl, why do you think we be wanting to fill the ‘ouse with babies?” Mrs. Merriweather laughs.

  “Anyway,” Gwendolyn drags out the word to put an end to the conversation. “What does Bull not know better about. Specifically.” She turns her eyes to me with an amused expression. My eyes drop to her lips. They’re swollen, both from me devouring her mouth and her devouring my cock. The corner of my lips kick up in a wicked smirk. Instinctively she swipes her tongue along said lips. I want to groan.

  “Taking the Lord’s name in vain.” Mrs. Merriweather settles herself at the table. “Eat up. The both of you and your shenanigan’s are going to make us late.” She points her fork at us. “Best to keep aware of the time from now on.”

  My dick doesn’t know if he wants to shrivel up and hide, or give her a high-five for her stamp of approval. I choose not to comment, and I’m grateful Gwen doesn’t either, because I sure as shit don’t want to go into details of how I finger fucked her while I played with her ass. That was before I buried my cock balls deep inside the sexy ass woman and came so hard, I almost had a heart attack. Yeah, I don’t think that conversation would go over well with tea.

  Stop thinking with your dick, asshole. The mill, you’re here getting the third degree for information on the shares.

  Right.

  “Gwen tells me you’ve been approached with an offer to sell your shares of the mill,” might as well lay it all out. There’s no sense pussy footing around. Time is a luxury we do not have.

  Twenty-four hours until Hawk arrives.

  It’s the Steel Brothers MC club I’m more concerned with.

  Mrs. Merriweather slides her eyes to Gwen. “She did. They not be mine anymore.”

  The atmosphere is borderline tense. I’m certain they know I’m not asking just out of curiosity. Especially after everything that’s happened.

  I set my silverware down. I don’t have the goddamn patience to string this along.

  “I’d like to see the paperwork, if you don’t mind.”

  Both of them stare intently at me for a long moment.

  Finally, Gwen replies, “Okay.” She trusts me. She doesn’t question, she doesn’t hesitate. That shit hits me where I live. She gets up and goes to the other room, I think the den or library or some fancy room.

  “You think this be something about our Sasha, don’t you, lad?” Mrs. M. asks seriously.

  I nod. “I do.”

  “And ‘er snake in the grass ‘usband,” she snarls.

  “Ex-husband, Mrs. M.,” I remind her coldly.

  “Yes, yes,” she flicks her wrist at me. “That other vile man, what was ‘is name, Bull?”

  “Dominick Fellini,” I answer tightly.

  She shakes her head. “There be something foul there, there is.”

  “Stinks like shit.”

  “That it does, Bull, that it does.” Mrs. M. is a one of a kind.

  Gwendolyn’s returned with a large manila envelope and hands it to me. I push my plate away and pull the contents out as she takes her seat again.

  “You think this is all connected,” Gwen states quietly, no longer touching her food either.

  “We do,” I reply absently while scanning the documents. There’s a local contact listed along with the offer of one point five million. I turn my attention to both of them. They’re waiting silently. “Seems like you were being robbed, if this,” I wave the papers, “is actually worth three mil.”

  “That’s why I didn’t accept it,” Gwen responds.

  “You know,” I stuff the paperwork back into its envelope, “you’re the only who hasn’t. Everyone else has sold.”

  “Are we?” Gwen asks slowly.

  I nod.

  “Seems you know quite a bit about this, lad?” Mrs. Merriweather narrows her eyes at me.

  I give her a level stare. “We do.” I suck in a deep breath. “But not enough. Not yet,” I wave the large envelope. “Mind if I borrow this for a little while?”

  “No,” Gwen waves it off, “go right ahead. “Maybe I should tell you about the phone call I received just after that came,” she pulls her eyebrows together with annoyance.

  What the hell?

  Gwen continues, “The day that arrived,” she points to the envelope I’m holding, “a man called me. I didn’t recognize the voice, and he never said his name, he only stated he was a representative of the whole thing.”

  I have to set the paperwork down on the table before I crush it, I’m so angry. “What did he say?”

  She takes in a slow breath, her eyes level with mine. “He said it would really be in my best interest to agree to the offer. He said they were going to have it one way or another.”

  Fury explodes inside me. “He did, did he? Did he say anything else?”

  She nods, “He said they wouldn’t wait for long, that the people he works for aren’t very patient.”

  “Can you believe the cheek of the man, Bull?” Mrs. M huffs.

  They’ve had this between the two of them all this time, probably with no one to go to for guidance. They must know by now this is nothing to fuck around about.

  “Yeah, I do.” I can, because I’ve known a thousand men just like that. Very dangerous men, and I know exactly their level of patience and their methods of persuasion.

  No one says anything for a long time, the only sound is the hum of the refrigerator and the tic-toc from the grandfather clock in the living room.

  I started protecting Gwen because I was afraid of what could happen to her due to any connection to me. That has just escalated to a massive level. They want her for what she has, any link to me would be icing on the cake and a way to rub our faces in it, an added bonus.

  This has just gone to high alert.

  I’m the first to stand. “I’ll clean up.”

  Gwen stands too. “I’ll help.”

  Mrs. Merriweather pushes her chair back and slowly rises. “You two be quick about it,” she states absently as she leaves the room.

  I watch her go. “Where’s she going?”

  Gwen’s following her with her eyes as well. “To her rooms, but I don’t know what for.”

  I turn my attention to the woman I spent the night with. She looks worried. I’m partially responsible for that, the cocksuckers in the offer I’m holding are as well, and it makes me feel horrible.

  “Hey,” I slide my hand behind her neck and pull her close. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  She holds my forearms and gives me a weak smile. “I know.”

  I touch my lips to hers lightly, my eyes never leaving hers. “I promise.”

  Her eyes search mine, big and round and full of every damn emotion that’s rushing through her. She’s scared, I can see it. She has reason to be. I have to let her know she’ll be okay. She’s looking for confirmation, for certainty, for the promise I hope I can keep.

  CHAPTER 21

  Bull

  When it’s all said and done, my hope is that Gwen will be happy, no matter who she’s with. In my mind’s eye, I can already see her in her big house full of her children, her with her family happy and safe. That’s really all I
want. She deserves it. She’s going to be a fantastic mother, and Lord help the man who finally makes her his. He’s going to be in for the ride of his life.

  I fucking hate him.

  It doesn’t matter. That’s what we signed up for. That’s the vow we made when we enlisted right from the beginning. It’s our job to get the bad guys to keep others safe and protected. No matter the sacrifice, whatever the cost. Nothing is personal.

  This is personal on a whole other level. I fucked up my family’s life. Maybe, if there’s some bigger plan, I can make some kind of restitution for my past mistakes. I’ve done what I can for my own family, I can’t get their home back, but I have tried to make up for the mistakes that I’ve made. Maybe, if we stop whatever’s happening at the mill, if we can keep them from going after Gwen, and Summer, and Raven, if we can destroy their plans for doing whatever the fuck they’ve started over there, I can make some kind of amends for all the wrong’s I’ve done.

  This is not about us, it’s not about me, but about them. That’s our job.

  They’ve threatened a young woman and her grandmother. What kind of monsters do that? The greedy, soulless kind, the kind who would murder babies and kill anything that stands in their way.

  The beast inside me who demands vengeance roars with the need for their dead fucking bodies.

  I can’t wait until this shit is over. Shut that shit down at the mill, get the scumbags. Then we can right the mistake we made with Sasha.

  We’re going to search in every hell hole, choke whatever information we can out of every informant we’ve ever known. Gringo and I won’t stop until we’ve found her and bring her back home. In one fucking piece. We’ll do whatever we need to put her back together.

  Please don’t let it be in a pine box.

  In Rock’s office, there’s a new look in Gringo’s eye. There’s a glimmer of something, not the empty darkness that’s been there since Sasha disappeared.

  I’d like to think it’s hope.

  Sweet Jesus, let it be hope.

  We can use all the good mojo we can get right now.

  “I got the offer to purchase from Gwen,” I slap the manila envelope on Rock’s desk and stare at Gwendolyn’s name printed on the mailing label. I want to rip out whoever’s arms put it there.

  How dare they? I’m going to smash the cocksuckers face in, crush every bone in his damn skull for even thinking he could hurt her.

  Rock slides it to him. “How’d you get it?”

  “I asked her for it.” I’m silently fuming.

  His eyes meet mine as he slips the papers from it. “Oh, really?”

  I glare at him. “Yes. I also confirmed she is the owner of the shares,” I flick my chin at him. “You’ll see the offer is made out to her.” My hands curl into tights fists. “Gwen got a phone call right after that came.”

  Gringo is at my left, his laptop open on Rock’s desk, his fingers laced together, the expression on his face is a mirror of mine and Rock’s.

  Destruction. Annihilation. Death.

  “What did they say?” Gringo asks ominously quiet.

  “They said,” I grit out, “basically that she’d better accept, or they’re getting it anyway, they’re not patient people.”

  The three of us are fully aware of what that most likely means. It also says we don’t have much time.

  “We’ve got almost everything we need, we just have to find out who’s in charge,” Rock growls.

  We silently fume. They’re hidden behind so many smoke screens, and cover after cover. Each time we rip one down, another one stares us in the face.

  “Strange, isn’t it,” Gringo murmurs quietly.

  Rock and I both turn to him. “What? Exactly?”

  “That whomever is behind this was able to obtain the information that she’s the title holder when we couldn’t find it.” He shrugs a shoulder. “As if it hadn’t been registered at the deeds office, because I looked and it wasn’t there.”

  The three of us exchange glances.

  Gringo continues. “It seems like someone didn’t want that little piece of information made public knowledge.”

  “Sasha’s husband,” I growl.

  “Ex-husband,” Rock corrects me tightly.

  “Does it make the transfer null and void since it wasn’t registered?”

  “Grey area,” Gringo replies. “If it went to court she’d be able to claim it.” He pauses. “If she had the right judge.”

  “Or the wrong judge,” I grit out.

  He nods. “I guess it’s all in how you look at it. Or the desired end result.”

  “Son of a bitch,” my blood is boiling. “This whole fucking place is crooked.”

  Rock’s reading through the paperwork. “At least we’ve got a contact name with a U.S. address.” He hands the document to Gringo. Gringo takes it and inputs the information into whatever database he uses. I don’t know half the shit he does, but he always gets the job done.

  “What now?” I ask.

  “We wait.” Rock sits back in his chair.

  The waiting. I hate it. It gives you too much time to think, and time for things to go horribly wrong.

  “The offer was for one and a half million,” I repeat the obvious because it was in the offer. It could be I’m trying to fill up the space with something pertinent.

  “I saw that,” Rock dips his chin in agreement.

  “A lot of money,” Gringo comments as he types.

  “Apparently not enough. I asked Mrs. M this morning…”

  Rock cocks an eyebrow at me. “Over breakfast?”

  My jaw ticks. He’s lucky I don’t slam his head into the desk. “As a matter of fact, yes.” I take in a deep breath so I don’t knock that expression off his face. “It seems it’s worth twice that amount.”

  Rock turns to Gringo. “Do we know what the other shareholders sold for?”

  Gringo sits back and looks from Rock to me. “Less than half that.”

  “Interesting,” Rock murmurs.

  “Things just keep getting better and better,” Gringo comments dryly.

  “It’s too bad we don’t have the time to research all the specifics with everyone involved. It appears there’s a lot happening behind the scenes we don’t know about.” Rock says. He’s right, and we should be aware of all the details, but time is a luxury we can’t afford.

  “Speaking of time, when’s Hawk getting in?”

  The fact that Hawk is coming is tense. We’re not exactly sure where he stands. Hell, I’m not sure he knows where he stands. He walks the line most times. When things tip one way or the other, that’s where he goes. That’s why he goes rogue so often. He’s like an undetonated bomb, you never know when he’s going to blow.

  Rock’s expression hardens. “He can walk through the door right now, or show up tomorrow sometime.”

  No shit.

  “At least we can put him next door, then we can go over things one time, all of us together,” Gringo is back to his web search.

  Rock turns his attention to me. “What about the Steel Brothers, Bull?”

  Yeah, them.

  “Prez is coming, and he’s bringing some guys with him.” I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  That gets both Rock’s and Gringo’s attention. “The president is coming?”

  “Isn’t that odd? This isn’t club business,” Gringo questions.

  “Yeah, it is odd. I thought so too.”

  I don’t like it. At. All. But we don’t have much choice. We need the back-up. I asked for it. He agreed, but on his terms. We have no choice but to agree to them. We have to focus our attention on the bigger problem. The mill, Sasha, and any connection to The Club, the place where Summer came from. The organization Summer’s father owns. And the business deal where Summer was the prize.

  “When can we expect them?” Rock asks, his tone icy.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Looks like we’re going to be very busy for the next forty-eight hours,” Gri
ngo comments in that snide ass way he has.

  “Good. Get this finished once and for all. Clean up this mess so we can…,” I almost say it. I almost blurt out so we can go find Sasha.

  Rage washes over Gringo’s expression. I want to apologize for bringing it up. We don’t talk about it. There’s no reason to, not unless there’s something positive or constructive to say. Like where the fuck she is.

  “You’re right. End this. Once and for all,” Rock breaks the tension.

  “Bingo,” Gringo announces as he sits up in his chair, his fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard. The rage that was just on his face is replaced with evil glee. “I’ve got a hit on the contact from the offer. Name is Christopher Edgeworth.” Gringo lifts his eyes and they meet mine. “The second.”

  “Money,” I rasp.

  “Sounds like old money,” Rock adds.

  Gringo returns his attention to what’s in front of him. “He’s a lawyer, part of a firm. It says here…,” he reads some more. “The practice was started by dear old dad. Isn’t that sweet, he’s following in daddy’s footsteps.”

  “Yeah,” I snort. “Let’s see where they came from and exactly where they go.”

  “Sounds a lot like someone we’ve met before,” Rock’s rubbing his chin, his body completely motionless.

  “Hollingsworth,” Summer’s father.

  “And Steve,” Gringo leers, Summer’s fiancée.

  “Funny how that is,” Rock states quietly.

  “But not surprising.”

  “Not at all.” Rock is so fucking furious, he’s barely audible.

  Gringo clicks some more keys. “I’m going to need a little bit of time to get the good stuff. That can only come from the secure server at home.” He closes the computer without shutting it down. “We done? For now?”

  “Just one more thing,” Rock raises a finger stopping Gringo mid-stand.

  Gringo lowers himself. He’s at the edge of his seat, itching to pull all of Christopher Edgeworth’s skeletons out of the closet.