Judged (The Mercenary Series Book 4)

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Judged (The Mercenary Series Book 4) Page 2

by Marissa Farrar


  My lips pinched, my nostrils flared. The last thing I wanted to do was get on my hands and knees and start cleaning in front of all the other inmates and officers, but if I didn’t, I would most likely end up in solitary, which would mean no visitors. If Vee managed to arrange to see me, and turned up to discover I’d been put in the hole, it would kill her.

  Thinking only of the woman I loved, I got to one knee and scooped up the goop from the floor with my hand, flicking it back onto the tray. Something wet hit me on my back, warm dampness seeping through the prison uniform, and I realized someone had thrown more of the porridge at me. Ignoring it, I finished cleaning up, dumped the tray, and left the area. I went back to my cell and removed my soiled shirt.

  I used the time before my cellmate returned to drop to the ground. I put myself through a grueling workout of pushups, sit ups, and burpees, until sweat shone on my chest, highlighting the lines and ridges of muscle. I would need to be tough in here, strong and hard, though the workout on an empty stomach left me lightheaded. I drank water from the tap from the small sink beside the toilet.

  My cellmate returned. He caught sight of the numerous scars that littered my body.

  “Jesus,” he said, curling his lip. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  I wasn’t about to start pouring out my soul to this asshole. Instead, I grabbed my dirty shirt, the dampness drying to hardening crust, and pulled it on. “Nothing.”

  “You better watch Damps,” he said, though I still couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a threat. “He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

  I climbed back onto my bunk and lay on my back, breathing hard from my workout. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  I hoped I wasn’t going to have to.

  Chapter Three

  V

  We took one of the several vehicles sitting in our father’s huge garage.

  I was on edge as I drove, a large part of me expecting a drive-by shooting to happen at any moment. An ambusher might not know it was me and my sister in the car, and there were plenty of people who wanted Mickey Five Fingers dead.

  The property I planned on visiting was located on the other side of the city. I knew the man I needed would never speak to me on the phone. Once face to face with me, however, I hoped guilt would go a long way to getting what I wanted.

  The property was even bigger than my father’s house, though with slightly less protection. The house was accessible from the street, a large porch surrounding the two stories, and freshly mowed lawns stretching between the porch and the sidewalk.

  I pulled the car up alongside the street outside and switched off the engine.

  Nicole had been silent throughout the drive.

  “You can wait here if you want,” I told her.

  She looked to me, her features taut. She’d realized whose house we were visiting. “Is that okay? I’m worried about what he’s going to ask me. The man asks questions for a living and I really don’t think I’m up to getting the third degree about what’s happened to Dad.”

  I nodded. “Sure. I get it.”

  “What are you going to say to him?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not quite sure yet. I guess that depends on whether he greets me like a long-lost relative or a criminal.”

  She gave me a tight smile. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”

  I climbed from the car, feeling like every curtain in the neighborhood was twitching. This area boasted huge, six bedroom homes, with manicured lawns and expensive vehicles in the drive. Sure, I was driving an expensive car as well, but I didn’t think the likes of me, with the sleeve of tattoos down my arm, was the type of person they usually got around here. I wanted to climb back in the car and drive away again, but I needed to do this. It’s for X, I reminded myself, and I would do anything for him.

  Wanting to get it over with, I hurried up to the front door, breaking into a jog in my haste. A swing seat was on the porch, plant pots of bright pink and orange geraniums positioned in the corners. An ornate brass doorbell was located beside the front door, so I pressed it. A peel of chimes sounded from somewhere deep within the house.

  Footsteps approached and I caught my breath, trying to still my pounding heart. I needed to remain cool and unruffled.

  The door cracked open and I caught sight of the man I’d come here to see.

  He was an older man, in his fifties, called Joseph Monroe. He’d been the lawyer for our family for as long as I could remember, and was the defense lawyer on my father’s case. The same case he managed to get thrown out due to the ‘evidence’ one of my father’s men had presented about me being the one who’d killed my mother. Technically, that had been the truth, but they’d left out the part about my father forcing me to do it, making me choose my sister’s life over my own mom’s.

  He spotted me through the gap in the doorway and his eyes widened behind his glasses. Immediately, he tried to slam it shut again, but I stuck my foot in the gap so the door jammed against the outside of my boot.

  “Don’t, Mr. Monroe,” I said, my voice stern. “I need to talk to you.”

  The lines on his forehead deepened. “Sorry, Verity. We have nothing to say to each other.”

  “Do you really believe that? You watched me grow up, I even called you Uncle JoJo when I was small, and now you won’t even speak to me? What’s wrong? Has your conscience finally gotten the better of you?”

  “I’ve got nothing to feel guilty for”

  I cocked my eyebrows. “Really? You’ve known my dad for as long as I can remember. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know the truth of what happened the night my mother died.”

  “I know you shot her.”

  “Because he made me choose between her and Nicole.” Just saying the words caused pain to lance through my soul.

  “He was angry. He felt betrayed by you both.”

  I snorted. “You don’t need to defend him now, Joseph. He’s not on trial any more, remember? And it wasn’t as though he was some innocent in their marriage. He had enough broads hanging around. He wasn’t faithful to my mother the whole time they were married.”

  “That’s different,” he muttered.

  “Is it? How, exactly? Different enough that it was worth killing her over, clearly.”

  “That wasn’t my fault, Verity. I wasn’t even there. I just did my job. No more, no less.”

  I paused, closing my eyes briefly, centering myself. I needed to remember my reason for being here. “I’m not here to throw accusations around. I need your help with something. It’s business. I want to come inside.”

  He opened the door slightly and peered around, up and down the street, then out to the car out front.

  “I didn’t bring a whole gang of men to beat the crap out of you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not that you don’t deserve it, of course.”

  He leaned back into his house, still regarding me suspiciously.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, either,” I continued. “If I wanted you dead, you would be already. Like I said, this is business. My father is away for a while. He and I have made amends, but it means you’re going to have to deal with me, just like you dealt with him.”

  “You’ve made amends? What does that mean, exactly?”

  “That we’ve decided enough is enough. He’s realized it’s better to have me with him than against him. I am his daughter, after all.”

  Joseph frowned. “Where’s he gone? How long is he going to be away?”

  I exhaled a sigh. “Everyone is asking me that. I wish I knew. But like I said, while he’s away, I’m going to need your help. So are you going to let me inside, or shall we have this conversation out here, nice and loud, so all your neighbors find out exactly what type of men it is you’re defending?”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, finally giving in and ushering me into the house. The place was all cream carpets, with dark wooden furniture, and expensi
ve looking artwork on the walls. “Keep your voice down. My wife is out back.”

  Even after all these years, I’d never met Mrs. Monroe. I wondered if she knew what paid for the huge house, cars, and luxury foreign vacations every year. Perhaps she did, and she simply didn’t care as long as the money kept rolling in.

  He led me into a small sitting room, rather than his study or office. “Sorry, it’s at the back of the house. The wife would want to know what was going on. I prefer it if she doesn’t ask too many questions.”

  “Right.”

  “So, tell me what you need.”

  I settled onto the edge of the couch, and he took the chair opposite. “A friend of mine is in trouble with the law. A lot of trouble. He’s been arrested for a murder he didn’t commit, and the public defender he’s been assigned doesn’t look or act like he’d be able to find his ass with his own hands.”

  “Right.” Joseph Monroe glanced down at his lap, as though considering what he was about to say, and then looked back up at me. “First of all, whether he’s guilty or not is irrelevant. Secondly, there are plenty of defense lawyers around. Why choose me?”

  “I know you’re the best. That’s why my father hired you.”

  “And now you want to hire me for some guy?”

  “He’s not just some guy. He’s important to me. Very important. You’re a friend of our family, and you have been for years. You owe me this.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “Yes, you do. You know why.”

  His face grew red with indignation, and he sat up straighter. “I was defending your father, and you were the one who was going to put him behind bars.”

  “You knew what he did. You were defending him even though you knew the truth of what happened to my mother. Jesus, you knew her, too. You’ve sat and had dinner with us all, and yet you still defended him.”

  “It wasn’t that easy, Verity. You can’t just say no to a man like him—you should know that better than most.”

  I leaned forward, fixing my gaze on him. I was armed, the barrel of the gun wedging hard into my hip, as though reminding me of its presence, but I preferred not to use it. I wanted this man to want to work for me because of who I was and our shared past, not because I had threatened him.

  “But my father isn’t around right now, Joseph. You have me instead. I think you need to start remembering that I’m not someone you say no to either.”

  I watched part of the color drain from his face, so he ended up with a strange, mottled, red and white complexion. He cleared his throat and tugged at the top button of his shirt. “Now, Verity, there’s no need to be like that.”

  “No? So, does that mean you’ll defend my friend?”

  “I guess I don’t have much choice.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way. His name is—” I almost said Xavier Creed, but caught myself at the last moment. “Lee Mason. He’s in Riker’s Island.”

  The lawyer nodded. “I figured he would be.”

  “When can you see him?”

  “I’ll get a meeting set up for tomorrow. He needs legal representation, and he should have been offered it by now. “

  “Thank you.” I got to my feet. “I’ll see myself out. Please, keep me informed about what’s happening. I’m staying at my father’s house.”

  He nodded and cleared his throat again. “Umm, Verity, about the bill for my services …”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get paid.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  I left him in the house and walked back down to where my sister was sitting in the car. She jumped when I opened the door and then stared at me, chewing her lower lip. “Well?”

  “He’ll do it.”

  “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

  I gave a small laugh. “No, Nickie, I didn’t. That’s not the only way to get what you want. We just had a little chat, I promise.”

  She relaxed into her seat. “Okay, good.”

  I started the car engine. “But if he doesn’t get X out of jail, I’ll do a lot more than have a conversation with him.”

  Chapter Four

  V

  We drove back to the house.

  The adrenaline from the meeting with my father’s lawyer had left me drained. Patches of sweat clung beneath my armpits and between my legs—I’d been so much sweatier since becoming pregnant, another not-so-lovely pregnancy symptom no one tells you about—and I was desperate for a change of clothes and a shower. A nap would have been even better, but I had things I needed to do. Frustratingly, I had to go through all the correct channels this time to arrange a visiting order. X had been able to pull some strings to get me in to see my father when he’d been inside, but he couldn’t do anything from behind bars. I needed to see him, felt desperate for it, like a string connected us, and was pulling us together, but the restraints we had held us apart. I still felt the tug, though, like something physical pulling on my heart. I wouldn’t rest until he was walking free and we were together again.

  We approached the gates of our father’s house, and I hit the buzzer on the key fob to open them. They slid apart and I drove through the gap, putting the car into park and shutting the gates behind us again.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I told Nicole as we climbed out of the car and headed toward the house.

  “Sure. You want me to make us something to eat?”

  “That would be great. Something full of carbs.”

  She smiled at me. “No need to watch that diet now.”

  “Exactly.”

  I left her heading into the kitchen, while I went up to my bedroom and adjoining bathroom. I stripped off my clothes and turned on the shower, stepping beneath it to soap my body and hair. I couldn’t stop my mind going to all the times X and I had fucked in the shower. It didn’t matter what I did, my mind was always with him.

  When I was clean, I got out and dressed, then went to the few small possessions I had that meant something to me. I took out the scan photographs we’d been given at the hospital. The blobs of black, white, and gray were the shape of our baby, and I put my hand to my stomach, trying to imagine the life growing inside me. He or she would be about the size of an avocado now, according to all the websites and books, and in the next few weeks I would start to feel the first fluttering of movement. It was a thought I should be excited and elated about, not something that sent my heart twisting. I wanted X to be here with me through all of this. Yes, I had Nicole, but it wasn’t the same. And I could do it all by myself, but I didn’t want to, and I knew X wouldn’t want this either. It would kill him if I had to go through this pregnancy and, dare I think it, the birth, too, without him.

  “Vee?”

  Nicole’s shout came from downstairs. I figured our food was ready, so got to my feet. “I’ll be down in one minute,” I called back.

  “Vee,” she shouted with more urgency, “there’s someone at the gates, and he’s got cop written all over him.”

  I frowned and slid the scan photos of the baby beneath the mattress of my bed. I didn’t want anyone else other than Nicole and X to know about the pregnancy. It would be used against me if others found out.

  Damn it. Who was here already?

  I’d known word would get around that we were back at the house. We could have tried to stay hidden, but it wouldn’t have worked. Besides, I needed some of my father’s contacts in order to try to help X. If we hid away as though we’d done something wrong, things would backfire on us. No, we needed to act as though we belonged here.

  I left my room and hurried down the stairs. Nicole was standing at the front door, looking at the screen which was attached to the cameras on the front gate. I recognized the man standing there immediately. His dark hair was flecked with gray, and his broad shoulders filled out a suit that was less flashy than most of the men who frequented this property.

  “It’s okay. Let him in.”

  “Who is he?”

  The man on the screen loo
ked directly up into the camera. I had the feeling he knew exactly who was looking back.

  “Detective Caraway. The guy who arrested X.”

  A coil of anger stirred inside me. I knew he was only doing his job, but if he’d left us alone, we wouldn’t be in this position now. But he’d been good to me when I’d been going through the trial with my father, and had done what he’d been able to in order to keep me informed about Nicole when she’d insisted on staying with Tony the Hound. I hoped he wasn’t about to stir up more trouble for us. I always got the impression he wanted to help me more than he could, that he was more exasperated with me for not being able to stay out of trouble.

  I hit the button which opened the gates to the house, and they slid apart. On the camera, Caraway stood, watching them open for a moment, before turning and getting back inside his car. He drove through the gates and into our driveway, and I hit the button to close them again.

  I opened the front door before he had time to knock, revealing him approaching the house.

  “Hello, Detective. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “Miss Guerra, I heard you and your sister were staying back here.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. People had already noticed our arrival to the house, and were talking about us.

  “Is that all right?” I replied, my tone sharp. The last time I’d seen this man, he’d been arresting X for the murder of Harvey Baglione. “This is our family home, after all.”

  “I take it your father is no longer here? Or did the two of you make up?”

  My eyes narrowed. “Is that any of your business?”

  “When you spoke to me about your father, you believed he would kill you, and yet now here you are, back in his house. I assume he’s not home?”

  “No, he isn’t. He’s gone away on business. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

  Detective Caraway focused his gaze on me. His eyes were a deep, chocolate brown, and I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, as though he was playing along with everything I said, and deep down he knew the truth.

 

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