Bad Blood (Lone Star Mobster Book 5)

by Cynthia Rayne

  Byron stepped back. “I’m sorry about your family.” Something like compassion flitted across his handsome face.

  “Are you?”

  “I had nothin’ against your folks.”

  He almost sounded sincere, but then again, the man had a silver tongue. He was even better at lying than her grandfather, which was saying something.

  “Did you…? Was it you who…?”

  “No, but I was in on it.”

  “I see.”

  “So are you gonna hand me over to Tucker, or what?” Mary tried to sound brave, but her voice quivered, and she’d never been more terrified.

  “Why would I?”

  I don’t know because you’re evil?

  “Um, you work for Tucker?”

  He shrugged. “Not after tonight.”

  “What do you mean? And why are you here?” Tucker was probably already in bed. Why was Byron skulking in the shadows in the middle of the night?

  “I came here to take care of a problem.” He ran a hand down the line of his expensive jacket and beneath it, a gun bulged.

  She gasped. “Take care of what?”

  “It’s your turn to guess.” His eyes were flinty in the moonlight, and his meaning was unmistakable, even though he hadn’t said a word.

  “Oh God.” I hate this place.

  Mary waited for an emotional reaction to kick in, but she didn’t feel a darn thing, which was downright scary. Tonight, she’d severed the last emotional ties with her grandfather. And Mary knew, more than ever, she needed to make her escape because she didn’t belong here.

  “I heard from your friends in Las Vegas, and they wanna make a deal with me, pay for their transgressions if you will, and come to a new arrangement.”

  “You heard from Chase?” Mary tried not to sound so eager, but she couldn’t help it.

  “No, from an associate of his, Harry. Have you met him?”

  Her lip curled. “Yeah, unfortunately. Any news from Chase?”

  “I see, so love is in the air, is it?” Byron put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

  “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Of course you don’t.” He smirked.

  “The news?” she prompted.

  “Well, Harry’s takin’ over leadership of the Las Vegas group.”

  “He is?” So Chase was done with the outfit? “And what about Noah?”

  “His position has been, um, concluded, or will be, right shortly.”

  “How?” Did Chase kill his father?

  “We didn’t get into the particulars. It’s best to not ask too many questions in these situations, and you won’t have to worry about a thing. Your grandfather won’t harm you, so there’s no need to run away.”

  There was no point in denying her intentions.

  “I can’t stay here, Byron.”

  He nodded, and if she didn’t know better, Mary thought he almost looked regretful, which was a neat trick for a sociopath.

  “So you’re plannin’ a coup tonight, as well? You’re gonna take Tucker’s place?”

  Byron flinched. “It ain’t none of your business.”

  “Do you really want the responsibility?”

  “I’ve been workin’ toward it my whole life.”

  “How many deals with the devil does it take to rot your soul?” Mary didn’t know about his misdeeds, but she had a feeling his soul hung on by a thread.

  “I’m changing this place for the better. It won’t be like the old days when I’m in charge. There’s no need for you to leave.”

  And yet, somehow she doubted he’d be lucky. The existence lent itself to blood-soaked mayhem.

  “While I appreciate the offer, Byron, I want to heal people, help them, and I can’t accomplish those things here.”

  “Perhaps, but attendin’ medical school would be a whole lot easier with money.”

  For a moment, she was tempted and then snapped back to reality. Good Lord, he could talk an Eskimo into buying ice.

  “I’ll get by.” She couldn’t take any more of her granddad’s cash, even if he offered it to her.

  “Yes, but you don’t have to. You have resources, Mary.”

  “I’m not like you or Jasper, or anybody else who works for him, Byron. I can’t compartmentalize.”

  Byron heaved a sigh. “I know.” He held out his arms. “Come here, at least say a proper goodbye.”

  She’d known him all her life, and he’d been a family friend. At one time, she’d had a crush on the man, and now she saw nothing but death and destruction standing in front of her.

  “No, thanks, I should be going.” Mary backed away. “I have a brand new life to start.”

  “At least let me help you.”

  “I don’t want anythin’ from you.”

  His smile was sad. “I know, but you’ll need a few things. If you’re gonna walk away, you’ve gotta have identification, some paperwork for school. Unless you’d be content workin’ as a waitress or some such?” Byron whistled. “It would be a shame to waste your talents.”

  Damn, he’s good, or bad, depending on your point of view.

  “And you know where to get it?”

  “Oh, yes, I do.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Vick, Mary’s comin’ over to see you and I want you to give her everythin’ she needs. Meet her in the office, in say…” Byron glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes?” After a moment, he hung up.

  “Thank you, Byron.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t take this the wron’ way, but why are you doin’ this?”

  “You ain’t the only one who grew up in this life and wanted a way out.” His smile was lopsided. “Take care of yourself, Mary.” Byron lifted his phone. “I’ll make sure the guard lets you pass.”

  Evidently, the man was part of this revolution, too.

  “I will.” And then Mary fled to her car and started it up. As she pulled out of the driveway, she heard a gunshot.

  Tucker Cobb was dead.

  Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was over.

  When she’d left this place months ago, Mary had thought she’d placed her childhood in the rearview mirror. How right she’d been.

  Without looking back, Mary headed down the highway.

  ***

  “Hey, Mary, what can I do for you?” Vick gestured to the chair on the opposite side of her desk. “Have a seat.”

  They were in Dixon Wolf’s house, another mafia member. The rest of the place resembled a southwestern hacienda, but Vick’s office was eclectic and funky. One wall was done with chalkboard paint, and she’d doodled all over the surface, reminders or inspirational quotes. A black and white rug covered the tile floor, and more drawings decorated the walls, paintings with splashes of bright red and neon pink.

  Mary had always assumed Victoria Hale was Dix’s assistant, but her role had an ominous new meaning in light of recent information. As a tech expert, she’d probably done all kinds of cruel things, and Mary couldn’t take any more disappointments at the moment.

  Vick was in her late twenties with baby-fine black hair pulled up into a bun, pale skin, and blue eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses. She had an hourglass figure barely disguised by a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie.

  “I’m sorry to get you out of bed.” Mary sunk into the chair and checked the clock on the wall.

  “Don’t worry about it, it’s no problem.”

  “Byron said you could help me, Vick. I need to disappear, forever.” Mary was itching to get on the road.

  “Yeah, Byron shot me a couple of text messages, explaining things.” Vick closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You work for Tucker too, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.” Vick offered no excuses or rationalizations, which Mary appreciated.

  Mary nodded. There was nothing left to say.

  “So let’s do this.” Vick typed something. “What kind of documentation do you need
? And where are you goin’?”

  Mary thought about it a moment. It was difficult to pull her thoughts together because they were racing, going a mile a minute. Adrenaline rushed through her body, making her hands shake. She wouldn’t calm down until she’d put some distance between herself and Crimson Creek.

  “I don’t know, and even if I did, I’m not sure I’d tell you.” God, I sound so X Files about this whole thing. Trust no one!

  “I understand, but I need a few particulars.”

  “I need diplomas and transcripts, but not in my name.”

  “Got it. You want to disappear.” It wasn’t a question, but Mary nodded anyway. “Ones you could use to enroll at a university?”

  “Yes.”

  “What name do you want to use?”

  “I know it isn’t fair of me to ask, but can you keep a secret?”

  She sighed. “Probably more than you realize.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Vick shook her head. “Never mind. The name?”

  “Catherine Archer.” She bit her lip. “And can you make a license and Social Security card for Peter Archer as well?”

  Vick arched an eyebrow. “Who’s it for?”

  “An, um, friend of mine.”

  “I see.” She nodded. “Got it.”

  And then Vick set to work.

  In the space of an hour, Mary had a new driver’s license, Social Security card, transcripts, and diplomas, a whole new life in her hands. It was a longshot, but she had Chase’s documents too, even though Mary doubted she’d ever see him again.

  “All set. Need anythin’ else?”

  “No, I’m all set. Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” Vick seized her hand and squeezed it. “I hope everythin’ works out for you.”

  “Me too.” Mary blew out a breath. “Okay, how do I get out of here?” She didn’t have a clue how to be stealthy.

  “Well, you can’t take your car, because it’s fitted with a GPS tracker.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Sorry, it comes standard issue on the vehicles we purchased.”

  “I can take her to the airport.” Mary whirled to see Jasper standing in the doorway. “I called Ace, Justice’s friend. He’s a pilot, and I gave him plenty of cash, so he’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  “I informed Jasper before you got here,” Vick said. “I knew he’d want to say goodbye and you do, too, Mary, whether or not you can admit it.”

  It was true. Mary would miss Jasper most of all, even despite the things he’d probably done. She considered him a friend and honorary big brother, and his loss would be a gaping hole in her life.

  “Thanks for the heads up, Vixen.” Jasper walked over and kissed Vick on the cheek.

  Mary shut her eyes. “I don’t even…”

  “I know, mèimei,” he said, gently. “I let you down, but I still love you, and I think you feel the same way.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “I love you, too, but I can’t stay here.”

  “I know. It’s time for you to start over.” This time, when he held out his arms, Mary rushed into them, and Jasper kissed the top of her head. “But I’m gonna miss you.” Jasper’s eyes were watery when he pulled back.

  “Take care of each other.” Mary glanced at Vick and then back at Jasper. “Okay?” Tears openly streaked down her face.

  Vick smiled. “Will do.”

  Jasper grasped Mary’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you in the air.”

  ***

  “This don’t concern you.” Chase didn’t make any sudden movements.

  “As a matter of fact, it does, Chase. Now drop your weapon, or I’ll blow a hole in you.”

  Chase complied with Harry’s demands, mostly because he didn’t have a choice. He tucked the weapon into his back pocket, leaving Chase defenseless.

  “Good, now get your ass in gear.” Chase headed back into the room, arms raised. Noah lifted his hands again, too, when Harry pulled out another gun, training one on each of them.

  Fantastic, another standoff.

  “What the fuck are you doin’, Harry?”

  “Shut up.” He squinted at Noah. “I had no idea you were so twisted. You fucked your own daughter?”

  And then it clicked in his head.

  Chase suddenly knew who murdered Faith. Someone who had a grudge against the Lone Star Mafia, and his father.

  “That’s funny, comin’ from the man who killed her.”

  Harry sighed. “You finally figured it out. I was beginnin’ to think I’d surrounded myself with idiots.”

  “You murdered Faith!” Noah surged forward.

  Harry cocked the gun. “Stay where you are, Noah. If you move another inch, I’ll shoot your balls off, you pervert.”

  “Why were you tryin’ to start a war?” Noah asked.

  “Because of Alice,” Chase said. “We didn’t go to war over her death.” After a lot of bloodshed on both sides, the two groups had formed an uneasy truce.

  “Tucker Cobb raped and murdered her, and Chicken Little over here wouldn’t let me retaliate.”

  Noah shook his head. “We’d already lost too much. There were a half-dozen dead on both sides with no end in sight.”

  “I don’t give a damn. The bastard should’ve paid for what he did.” Harry gestured with the gun.

  Chase tensed, afraid it would go off accidentally.

  Noah nodded, almost imperceptibly to the bookcase behind Chase. The gun! All Chase had to do was maneuver himself into position and grab it.

  “So what? You thought Noah would start somethin’ if it had been Faith instead?”

  “Yeah, but then nobody found her body.” Harry grunted. “And once the investigation started up, I couldn’t go near it.”

  “Afraid somebody would see you and report it?” Chase asked.

  “It was a different time. We had a lot more FBI scrutiny.” Harry sneered at Noah. “At least I took the girl you loved, too. Neither one of us got what we wanted, huh?”

  Chase gritted his teeth. After what Harry had done to Faith and Mary, Chase was ready to put him in the ground. Maybe he was splitting hairs, morally speaking, but Harry wasn’t a relative, and he murdered Faith in cold blood. Noah had harmed her, too, but he hadn’t killed her.

  “Why are you tellin’ us this?” Noah asked.

  “Because neither one of you will be walkin’ out of this room, and then I’ll be in charge.” Harry cocked the gun. “I’ll tell the boys you shot each other, havin’ a family spat.” Harry smirked at Chase. “By the way, thank you for tellin’ Alan to leave his post, you saved me a few bullets.”

  Chase gritted his teeth. “You won’t get away with this.”

  “Really? I did last time.”

  “And I already made a deal with the Lone Star boys. I’m takin’ care of their problem, and they’ll handle mine.” Harry pointed the weapon at Noah.

  “Easy now. You don’t have to do this, Harry.” Chase spoke slowly, stalling for time, as he eased back against the shelf.

  Almost got it.

  “Yeah, I do.” He sneered at Chase. “I can’t believe you’re tryin’ to protect the man who molested your sister.”

  “I’m not.” If he remembered right, the pistol was tucked behind an old Louis L’Amour book, The Ferguson Rifle. All he had to do was reach for it. “There’s gotta be some way to resolve this without—”

  “You think you’re so high and mighty, dontcha, Chase? As though you’re better than the rest of us. Always goin’ on about dogs and wolves or some such.” Harry grunted. “Half the time I don’t know what the fuck you’re prattlin’ about.”

  “Listen to me, Harry, I know—”

  “You don’t know diddly squat.”

  “Maybe we can work somethin’ out,” Noah said.

  “Yeah, I’m done listenin’.” And then Harry pulled the trigger, hitting Noah right in the heart.

  His father tumbled to the ground. Blood soaked the fro
nt of his shirt and spilled from his open mouth. He groaned, struggling for breath and then fell back against the carpet, lifeless.

  Chase gasped.

  He should have felt something, but he didn’t. Not sadness or relief, or even anger. He just felt a great big nothing. Maybe shock had set in, or he was just too creeped out by his father’s actions to give a damn.

  And then Harry turned the other gun on him.

  His mouth went dry, but Chase seized the pistol from the shelf, keeping it behind his back.

  “I’ve been wantin’ to do this a long time.” Harry took a step closer. “When you joined up, your old man put you ahead of me in the outfit. I should’ve been the next in line for the underboss position, not you, and now it’s time to take what’s mine.”

  This is it. Faith, I might be comin’ to see you.

  Swiftly, he brought the pistol around, and Chase took aim at Harry.

  Two shots were fired… and then Harry was on the floor. Chase had hit him right between the eyes.

  For a moment, he stood there, stunned, unable to believe he’d gotten so lucky.

  Chase patted himself down, but he hadn’t been hit. When he turned around, he saw a hole in the wall, and he sagged against it. If it weren’t for his military training, Chase would’ve died.

  Thank God. I cut it a little too close for comfort.

  "Freeze!" Chase saw Thorne standing in the doorway, with a raised shotgun.

  “I’ll take that.” Thorne slid the pistol out of Chase’s limp hand. “What the fuck happened here?”

  Right. Fantastic, the FBI caught me with two dead bodies. This ain’t gonna end well.

  "I didn’t kill my father.”

  “No?”

  “No. Why are you here? Were you followin’ me?”

  “Maybe I’ve been keepin’ tabs on you. Who owns the gun on the carpet?” Thorne nudged it with his cowboy boot.

  “Me, but Harry took it.”

  “Hmph.” Thorne picked it up with the edge of his sleeve and then he tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll hang on to this, too. And what about the other fella?”

  “I shot—”

  “Stick a pin in that for a minute.” Inexplicably, Thorne holstered his weapon and walked over to check the two dead bodies. He knelt by Harry first and placed two fingers on the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse. He did the same for Chase’s father.