The bar was located on the outskirts, thank God, and we were lucky enough not to see any sign of more cops. I knew the bar would be one of the places the deputy would think to send people looking for me, though I also suspected he would be busy searching the house and most likely getting onto the phone with whoever he’d been spying on me for. Maybe I’d gotten him all wrong, and he was just doing his job, but I didn’t trust anyone. I still stayed on high alert for any sign of the cops coming after us.
“No one is following us,” said X.
“Not right this second, they’re not, but they will be soon.”
He couldn’t argue with me on that front.
X knew exactly where he was going to get to the bar—didn’t even ask which bar I was talking about, what the name or address was. Had he seen me working there? Been watching me? The thought sent chills rippling through me. Had I seen him while I was working, and not clocked the threat in his eyes?
No, I was fairly sure I’d have remembered if I’d seen him. He was striking to look at, and he exuded danger. But then I guessed it was part of his job to go unnoticed.
“Did you ever come here?” I asked him, glancing over at his profile as he drove. “The bar, I mean?”
He glanced back, our eyes meeting, and then nodded. “Yes, last night. I was here when you came out on your break.”
Realization pinged inside me. “The alleyway. I remember hearing something, feeling like someone was there, but then a guy from the bar came out …”
I trailed off as fresh understanding sank in. “You saw me threaten him.”
He chuckled. “I knew you were going to be interesting there and then. Of course, I hadn’t figured out just how interesting.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be taking that as a compliment or if he was having a dig about me stabbing him.
“And then you followed me home,” I said, trying to piece together his movements.
“I didn’t follow you, exactly. I already knew where you lived. I was waiting in the bushes, but saw you fighting with your sister when you got home. I waited outside until I thought you were asleep, except then those other guys showed up, and well,” he gave a shrug, “you know the rest.”
“I heard you outside,” I said. “I remember feeling like someone was watching me again, and pulling the blind in the window.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it was strange because I don’t think you could have heard me. But you sensed me, somehow. A part of you knew I was out there.”
“I have good instincts,” I said.
“I’ve guessed. And what do your instincts say about me?”
That we’re made up of the same broken souls …
I didn’t know how to answer the question, so I was relieved when the turn for the bar came up on the right side. “This is the one,” I told him, even though he already knew.
Knowing the police would be looking for this vehicle, X drove it straight across the dusty parking lot and down the back alley, where the industrial trash cans were kept, and where I’d come out for my break the previous night. He pulled the car up right next to the wall, I guessed figuring it would be less noticeable from the main road there. He climbed out of the driver’s side, but I was unable to even get the passenger door open and so grabbed the bag with the guns and clambered over the seat after him.
“What do we do if he says no?” X asked me. “Do we get violent?”
“He won’t say no, but we’ll do whatever needs to be done. I don’t want him killed, though, okay?”
X gave a brisk nod.
I led the way, and we entered the bar through the rear exit and through the seriously under-used kitchen, which acted more as an extra store room than anything else—cases of bottle beer stacked several high, boxes of potato chips, a mop and bucket.
Voices came from out front. I’d been hoping the bar would be empty, but it didn’t look like things were going to go my way on this one.
I popped my head around the corner, X lurking behind me, and called out to Johnny, who was chatting with one of the regulars on the other side of the bar, while he wiped down the surface with a rag.
“Hey, Johnny. Have you got a sec?”
He turned to me and smiled. “Hey, Vee. Your shift doesn’t start for a few hours yet.”
“Yeah, about that … I could really do with borrowing you for a minute.” I lifted my chin, jerking it back toward the kitchen. “Back here.”
“Sure.”
He threw down the rag and lifted a finger to the regular to tell him he’d only be a minute. Then he followed me back out into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” I started, “but I’m not going to make it in tonight.”
He frowned. “You want me to see if I can switch you over with Maggie?” he said, naming the other barmaid.
“Nah, sorry, Johnny, but I’m not going to be able to come in for any other shifts either.”
“You in trouble.”
“You could say that.”
His eyes flicked to X behind me, his gaze drifting down to the taped wounds in his arm and leg. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked X.
“Vee happened to me,” he replied.
Johnny gave a laugh. “Yeah, I can believe that.” He turned back to me. “So I’m pretty sure you haven’t just come here to hand in your notice.”
I shook my head. “I’m in trouble. I need your truck.”
“How long for?”
“I’m not sure. Just to get out of town, I hope. I’ll call you as soon as I can and tell you where I’ve left it.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his keys and threw them to me. I snagged them from mid-air. “I think you’re a good kid, Vee. I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but try to be careful. You could have a good future ahead of you if you choose it.” He looked to X. “Take care of her, okay?”
X only nodded.
I didn’t know how to tell Johnny that he had me completely wrong, and that the last person who was going to look after me would be X.
“Thanks, Johnny. You’re literally a life saver. I’ll do my best to get the truck back to you in one piece.”
His eyes widened slightly at my comment, but he didn’t ask for the keys yet.
“Vee,” X said from behind me. I knew what the warning tone meant—we needed to get a move on.
I wasn’t the hugging type, or I might have stepped in and given Johnny a hug goodbye. Instead, I gave him a final nod, and turned and left with X. We trotted down the couple of steps together, me clutching the keys tight. We’d passed Johnny’s truck parked out in the lot when we’d driven through, so I led X over.
“I’m driving,” I told him. “Don’t try anything dumb while my attention is diverted.” I reached into the bag and took out one of the handguns. “I’ll have this right beside me.”
“Don’t you think I would have tried something by now if I was going to?”
“I have no idea with you. You might be plotting something.”
“I’m not, I swear.”
This situation I was in was crazy dangerous right now, riding in a car with a man who’d been sent to kill me, with my sister taken by God only knew who, and the police, who I was fairly sure were bent, chasing me.
I wanted to trust him, but I didn’t trust anyone.
Especially not someone who’d been sent out to kill me.
Chapter Eighteen
X
Vee drove us out of town, the gun wedged between her slender thighs, one hand resting on the butt, ready to shoot me if I did anything wrong.
I was relieved to be leaving the town behind. I’d already been there at least twelve hours longer than I had intended, and in my job it wasn’t a good idea to hang around in the same place for too long. As much as I tried to stay incognito, there were a few people who knew exactly who I was and what I did, and those particular types of people always had ways of getting information if they wanted it. I was a professional, but that didn’t mean things al
ways went the right way for me. And when they went wrong, they went spectacularly wrong.
I spotted something ahead and slid down in my seat. “Keep driving, Vee. Don’t change your speed.”
The cops were parked in an emergency lane up ahead. I didn’t know if they were looking out for us—but I suspected they must be. Unless the deputy was completely bent, like Vee had suspected, he would have radioed us in right away and the police would be watching out for us. In fact, I was sure he had to have called us in. He wouldn’t get away with open firing in a busy street without having a really good reason for doing so. Chasing suspected murderers was probably as good an excuse as any.
“Oh, shit.” Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening. I saw the tension grip her shoulders and her teeth nipped at her lower lip.
I slid farther down in the seat.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, staring straight ahead.
I made sure the top of my head was below window level, though it was ridiculously cramped and the position put extra pressure on the wound in my thigh, making me grit my teeth and my eyes water.
“They’re looking for a man and a woman in a Ford car. If they can’t see me, you’re just a lone woman in a truck. Lean to the side slightly, and hold the steering wheel lower down so they won’t catch sight of your tattoos.”
“Shit!” she swore again, but did as I told her, angling her arm and shoulder so it couldn’t be seen from the outside. The result was that she sat slightly lower in the seat, but from the outside she just would have looked a little shorter than she was.
The bag with the gun was also on the floor with me, so I slid my hand inside to grip the butt of a pistol to use should we be stopped. It wasn’t in my usual job description to shoot innocent cops, but if it meant keeping us out of prison and alive, I’d do whatever I needed.
But I felt Vee tap me with something, and I had enough room to glance toward her. She had tapped me with the muzzle of the gun she’d had gripped between her thighs.
“Don’t try anything,” she warned me.
“I was getting the gun in case of the cops, not because I was going to turn it on you.” Her constant suspicion was starting to grate on me, but I guessed I couldn’t blame her. “I’m not going to hurt you, Vee.”
“Shut up, and let me concentrate.”
I figured we were about to drive right by the waiting cop car. I braced myself, waiting for the siren to come on, the lights flashing, and the decision whether to stop and fight, or start to lead the chase, would need to be made.
But we drove past without being alerted to anything being wrong.
Vee let out an audible breath. “I think we’re okay. They barely glanced at me. The police probably think we’re headed in the opposite direction anyway, and they’ve just been put there as a precaution.”
Even so, I gave it another minute before straightening out of my cramped position and settling myself back in the seat. I was starting to feel like I couldn’t remember a time when a part of my body didn’t hurt. I would have liked to keep hold of one of the guns, but I didn’t think the woman driving the car was going to let me get away with that.
A buzzing sounded from somewhere around Vee.
“Ah, now what?” she said, tilting her hip up and sliding her hand down her perfectly shaped rear end. I knew I shouldn’t be focusing on that part of what was happening, but the image of her naked fingers slipping across her bare ass pierced my brain.
She pulled out the cell from her back pocket and flashed the screen at me. “It’s them again. The ones who have Nickie.”
I knew she wouldn’t want me to comment on it, but I noted how her hands were shaking.
“Pull over and then put it on speaker,” I said. I didn’t want her to mention me. As far as they were aware, I didn’t even exist. I was the one advantage we would have in getting her sister back—that and the fact Vee wasn’t going to take any prisoners.
Her eyes flicked to me, and she nodded, swinging onto the side of the verge. Luckily, the road was quiet and we didn’t upset any other drivers with our sudden stop.
Vee held out the phone and hit the button to answer. Her lips were thinned, her skin appearing a shade lighter than her usual caramel complexion. This was stressing her out, far more than she’d ever been dealing with me.
A male voice spoke. “I hope you’re on your way.”
“I would be if I knew where I was supposed to be going.”
I glanced at her in surprise. That woman was back again—the tough, capable one. The one who had stabbed me and taped me to a chair. Her voice didn’t convey the shaking in her hand, and I could see she was putting on a brave front.
“Keep heading east for another two hours. I’ll call again when you’re closer.”
I listened hard for any clues. The accent was most definitely New York, Bronx, and the speaker clearly male, and I would guess to be older than me, in his forties. The accent and age made me think he was most likely associated with Vee’s father, and my mind started turning over possibilities.
“I want to know my sister is still alive,” she said, still with that cool, authoritative voice. “Put her on the phone.”
There was a pause and a shuffle and then Nickie’s voice came through. “Vee,” she said. “Please, just come—”
But she didn’t get the chance to say anything else.
I glanced at Vee’s face. She stared straight ahead, her eyes dry, her lips a thinned line. I realized I’d never seen her cry, and even now, she didn’t beg to speak to her sister again. I wanted to speak on her behalf, but I couldn’t give myself away.
“There,” said the man. “You got what you wanted, now do as you’re told.”
Vee didn’t flinch. “What’s your name?” she demanded.
He chuckled. “You don’t need to know that now. You’ll find out soon enough.” And the line went dead again.
Vee’s self control snapped. “Fuck!” she swore and slammed her small fists down onto the steering. “That fucking son-of-a-bitch. I’ll fucking kill him when I get close enough. I swear it with my life.”
She was panting in her vitriol, her fists clenched, her shoulders hunched. I had the feeling she would tear the truck to pieces with her bare hands if she was given the chance. I kept my mouth shut, certain the wrong word would cause her to pull the gun on me and shoot me in the chest. I didn’t think I’d ever met a woman who instilled that kind of caution in me. Unpredictable and definitely dangerous. Yet a strange part of me also admired her, and I was definitely drawn to her. Did I recognize something of myself in this woman?
I gave her a few minutes to calm down, though I knew her rage still simmered beneath the surface. That was good. She would need to call on it when needed. I’d already been told she was a killer, so I didn’t doubt her ability to pull the trigger when the time came, but she’d also need to do so with control and clarity. Being overly emotional caused mistakes, and mistakes meant death.
When the white vanished from her knuckles and her breathing slowed, I dared to speak. “He knew which direction we’re headed in.”
She twisted in the seat to face me. “How?”
“I don’t know. Someone told him?”
“Someone informed on us already? Deputy Kier, I bet.”
I bit my lower lip as I considered the options. “I thought the police would assume we were going in the other direction.”
“So someone has been following us?”
I couldn’t help looking back to the road behind us. I’d been keeping a close eye out as Vee had driven, or so I’d thought. “I haven’t seen anyone. If no one is following us, he just made a lucky guess.”
“That’s possible, right? We might have been reading too much into how he said it.”
“Yeah, it’s possible.”
“But your instincts tell you something different.”
She had focused those dark eyes on me, daring me to say anything other than the absolute truth
.
“Yeah, they do,” I admitted.
She paused before she spoke again. “Do you know who has taken Nickie?”
“I have an idea. When your father was setting up this hit with me, he was ranting about if I did a good job on this one—meaning you—that he’d have me go after Tony the Hound next. Have you heard of him?”
She nodded. “Tony Mancini, right? He’s been trying to move in on my father’s business for a while now. I know my father has had a couple of meetings with him, but I’ve never met him myself.”
“Yeah, Tony Mancini, though Tony the Hound suits him better. Your dad is a ruthless son-of-a-bitch, but you know how Tony got his name?”
She shook her head.
“You heard the expression, ‘throwing someone to the dogs’?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, when Tony was younger, he was an animal. The older gangsters would throw someone at him who they felt had done them wrong, and he would literally pull them to pieces. Didn’t matter how tough a guy was, when faced off against someone as sadistic as Tony the Hound, he would find his face ripped off by Tony’s teeth.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. As he got older, he learned to control the psycho in him, but he had amassed a big following by then. A lot of people admired him, while others just feared him. He started extorting money from some smaller business owners who weren’t already paying out to a mobster—sending in his guys with baseball bats, and destroying their stock, until they agreed to sign half their business over to Tony. Once he’d gotten himself a couple of businesses and had his foot well and truly in the door, he started moving in on the territory of some other mobsters.”
Skewed (The Mercenary Series Book 1) Page 10
