Judged (The Mercenary Series Book 4)

by Marissa Farrar

  I nodded. I knew she’d feel that way, but it didn’t make things any easier. Things would be better for her if she could just forget all of this and leave with her sister. She’d be safer, and so would our baby, but no amount of convincing would ever make Vee abandon the people she loved.

  “Hey, Vee, be careful of that Dylan guy, okay?” I said. “Remember he’s your father’s man first. You don’t know how much you can trust him.”

  She squeezed my fingers in reassurance. “I know. I’ll be okay.”

  I wished I could find a way to believe that as much as she did.

  Chapter Nineteen

  V

  I hated leaving X at the jail, but I had no choice. At least he’d not been hurt since the previous time I’d seen him. I made a mental note to speak with Joseph Monroe and see if we could get X moved to a different part of the jail. It was a big place, and if it looked like he could be in physical danger by staying in that dorm, surely they could move him? I cursed myself for not considering this sooner. It should have been the first thing I thought of when I’d visited the last time.

  I drove home, slowing the vehicle as I approached the property. A car waited outside my front gate, and it was all I could do to stop myself dropping my head to the steering wheel in frustration. I knew running my father’s empire wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but I was in definite need of a day off.

  As I pulled up beside Dylan Ferrara’s vehicle, he climbed out of the driver’s side. He put his hands on his hips, his mouth tight. My heart sank. Was there a chance he’d found out about my father? I was terrified the papers would get hold of the story and print that the notorious mafia don Mickey Five Fingers had vanished mysteriously from a hospital and no one knew his whereabouts. I would struggle to talk myself out of that one.

  “We’ve got trouble, Verity,” Dylan said.

  I sighed. “Haven’t we always? What is it now?”

  “Those assholes you’ve handed some of your father’s business over to have been drawing blood. They beat up an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Albrech, just because they’re black, and they’ve trashed a shop belonging to a Jewish man. This can’t go on. I know it’s all supposed to be for your father, but people are going to start rebelling. We can’t promise to keep people safe and then have these morons beating the shit out of them.”

  “We only promise to keep them safe in that we’re the ones not causing them violence,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, us or our competitors.”

  I rubbed my hand over my face. What I really wanted was something to eat and a nap, but it didn’t look as though that was going to happen. “Okay, let’s go and pay these lunatics a visit. Do you know where we can find them?”

  “Yeah, they’re holed up at a church downtown.” He climbed back into his car. “Come on, I’ll drive.”

  I hesitated. “That’s okay. I’ll follow you down.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Verity. It’ll be easier for us to coordinate if we’re both in the same vehicle.”

  I remembered what X had told me, to be careful of Dylan. He was my father’s man, not mine. But I needed him to consider us both on the same side, a united front.

  I was armed. If things started looking like they were going wrong, I’d have to shoot Dylan. I didn’t want to. He still hadn’t found me the cleaner, and he knew far more about my father’s business than I did, though I had no intention of letting him know that.

  Locking my car, I walked around and climbed into the passenger side of Dylan’s vehicle. He started the engine and pulled away from the curb, heading into the city.

  “Wait,” I told him, reaching to touch the back of his hand to get his attention. “Let’s go and visit with the people who were hurt first. They need our reassurance more than we need to put Leon and his gang in line right now.”

  He glanced over at me. “Are you sure? What can we even say to them? It’s not as though we can promise their safety.”

  I balled my fists. “I won’t have innocent people hurt, no matter what the deal is. I’ll call an end to this whole thing if I have to.”

  “We made a deal.”

  “I’m not breaking that deal. They can have the business, as agreed, but they’re not hurting anyone else unless they’re threatened first.”

  He glanced over at me, must have seen the determination on my face. I didn’t want to sacrifice X, but he wouldn’t want this either. We’d given the Blood Legion what they wanted—the opportunity to make money. Beating up people because they didn’t like their religion or color had never been part of the agreement.

  We drove down to the area currently run by the Blood Legion. As we curb-crawled, trying to get a feeling for the situation, I could see the damage already done by the gang. This was a relatively quiet part of the city, yet windows had been broken, and some businesses, normally bustling at this time of the day, had closed signs in the windows.

  I craned my neck as we passed by. “Jesus.”

  “Those assholes won’t have any businesses to earn money from if they carry on like this,” said Dylan, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, we definitely need to go and have a quiet word.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Let’s go and see those worst affected first.”

  We found a spot to park and then went to the first business—a store owned by Mr. and Mrs. Albrech. I made sure I took my gun, though I wasn’t expecting any trouble from them. They’d never been a problem, happy to keep things running smoothly, even if that did mean handing over a percentage of their profit to my family. If we didn’t take the money and keep them under our protection, another mafia family would only have taken over.

  A closed sign was up over the door, but Dylan stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Mr. and Mrs. Albrech,” he called out. “It’s the Guerra family. I need you to open up. We’re not here for any trouble.”

  The door opened and Mr. Albrech’s face peered through the gap. His left eye was swollen shut and his lip was split.

  I clamped my mouth shut against the curses that wanted to burst from my lips. “May we come in?” I said instead.

  He nodded and backed away, allowing us through to the shop.

  I surveyed the damage. The floor was covered in tins and bottles, where the contents of the shelves had been ransacked. Glass had been smashed, and sauce of various kinds was smeared up the walls.

  Mrs. Albrech was at the back of the store, trying to clean up the mess. She had a graze across her cheek, and the sight of it stirred anger inside me. The couple were in their sixties. They couldn’t have defended themselves, and didn’t deserve any of this.

  “What do you want?” said Mr. Albrech. He sounded tired rather than angry.

  “To apologize.”

  His lips thinned. “You weren’t the ones to do this.”

  “Not directly, no, but we had a hand in it. I’m going to speak to the men involved now to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “I won’t deal with them again,” the older man said.

  “I understand how you feel, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to, for the moment, anyway.”

  “Do you see what they did? They hit my wife!”

  “I know. It was wrong. I won’t let it happen again.”

  Mrs. Albrech was still clearing up, ignoring both us and the conversation. I walked up to her and took the broom from her hands. “Please, leave that,” I said, as gently as I could. “We’ll try to make things right again.”

  “I’ll send some men around to help with the cleanup,” Dylan called over.

  The lady lifted her eyes to mine and I saw anger and resentment in their brown depths. I couldn’t blame her.

  “I’m sorry for what happened, Mrs. Albrech,” I said. “It won’t happen again, okay? My father is away right now, and people have been taking liberties.”

  “It’s not good enough, Miss. Guerra. We can’t live like this.” She started to cry and my heart wrung out like a dirty
dishcloth.

  I put my hand on her shoulder and she flinched. “I know, and I’m sorry. Send me any medical bills, and I’ll make sure they’re paid, and we’ll pay for any damage done as well. If those men do anything more than come to collect what you pay, call me, and I’ll put an end to them.”

  She nodded.

  There was nothing more I could do.

  We left and had similar conversations with other business owners along the street.

  “Okay,” I said to Dylan where we were finally done, “let’s go and see Leon and his group of racists.”

  We drove to the church.

  I was armed, as was Dylan beside me. I didn’t want this to end in a shooting match, but I was prepared if it did. I tried to ignore the flicker of worry and guilt inside me. I should be doing everything I could to protect my baby, but this was my life. I’d do everything I could to prevent getting shot, if I could help it, but it wasn’t my life I was worried about. It was that of my unborn child.

  People hung around the front of the building, and I was dismayed to see children with them. They would be raised with the same narrow-minded beliefs, and it broke my heart. We were noticed and they vanished inside the church, clearly to warn Leon that we were coming.

  My presence confused the gang. Women weren’t normally a part of these kinds of talks. Plus, I was pregnant. Didn’t that make me as bad as the women I was judging? My baby hadn’t even been born yet and I was already placing him or her in danger.

  Leon came swaggering out. His jeans were ripped, the white ‘wife-beater’ shirt he wore clinging to the muscles of his upper torso. He chewed gum as he spoke, looking at us with disdain. “What are you doing here?”

  I stepped up. “You’re not keeping to your side of the agreement.”

  “Bullshit. Yes, we are.”

  “No, you’re hurting the people on our patch. That wasn’t part of it.”

  “They don’t count if they’re niggers and Jews. You should try to do some weeding out of people who are allowed to own businesses around here.”

  “Your prejudice is your problem, not mine. Lay a single finger on another person for no good reason, and you’ll find this agreement terminated.”

  He snorted. “What do you think your guy in jail is going to say about this? He’s not going to come off from this too well if you stand in our way.”

  I sensed Dylan giving me curious looks. I’d told him this had been about my father’s business, but now the lie had been revealed.

  “He wouldn’t want innocent people hurt either. Some of us put others before our own selfish existence.”

  Leon scowled. “Callum won’t like that one bit when he hears.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what Callum likes.” I could only assume Callum was one of the guys on the inside giving X hell. “We won’t put up with this, whatever the consequences.”

  Leon took another step forward. “What are you going to do about it, bitch?”

  Dylan matched his step with one of his own. “Hey, watch your language!”

  I lifted my hand to tell him I could handle it. I kept my voice calm and authoritative. “If you carry on like this, you’re not going to be able to make any money, because the business owners will pack up and move on.”

  “Good. Then we can get some white people to move in, just like there should be.”

  “Yeah? Do you know how many years it takes for an independent business to become profitable? You put the current owners out of business or drive them away, and you won’t be bringing in anything for three years or more. Is that what you want?”

  His mouth gaped, and I knew he hadn’t considered the business side of things.

  “Maybe you should go back to armed robberies,” said Dylan. “Seems to me that’s more your level.”

  “That’s enough, Dylan.” I didn’t want this to turn into a verbal sparring match, which would most likely escalate to gunfire. I looked back up at Leon. “So, do we have an understanding?”

  The skinhead scowled at me and gave a half shrug which I took to mean yes.

  “Good. Let’s all play nicely from now on, okay?”

  I wasn’t expecting to get an answer.

  Dylan glanced over. “We’re done here.”

  I nodded my agreement.

  We turned and headed back to the car, numerous hooded eyes watching our every movement. They probably wanted to see us dead, but it would mean war if they tried anything. As far as they knew, Mickey Five Fingers was still running this area, and he wasn’t a man to mess with.

  It wasn’t until we’d put a decent number of miles between us and the Blood Legion that Dylan began to ask questions.

  “Is there something you want to tell me, Verity?” he said, glancing over at me as he drove. “I’m not an idiot. I’m going to assume the guy in jail who they were talking about is the same one we’re trying to free by finding the cleaner.”

  “Yeah, how’s that going?” I asked.

  “Don’t change the subject. You lied to me. Is any of this actually about your father? Has he even been in contact with you recently?”

  What could I do? It was clear Leon knew all about X, and that the two things were tied.

  “You’re right. I lied,” I admitted. “The reason the Blood Legion are involved is because they’re threatening the man who I’m trying to get out of jail. And yes, up until a few days ago, I did know where my father was, but I don’t right at this second.”

  “All these big business deals he’s supposed to be negotiating—are they just lies, too?”

  I hesitated, not knowing which way to go. Tell him the truth and hope I’d be able to keep his loyalty? Or lie again and risk the chance he’d tell me it was all bullshit and throw it in my face?

  “How were things when my father was calling the shots, Dylan?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Fine.”

  “Only fine?”

  “You know what he can be like. Hot headed, quick to kill.” His eyes narrowed at me as he shot me a look. “I think you may have inherited that personality trait from him.”

  “What if I told you it would only be a matter of getting my friend out of jail, and then I’d leave everything in your hands. I wouldn’t even need to be told about what was going on. This would be all yours, Dylan. You wouldn’t have to wait for my father to die and leave it to you, if he even did. You could take it for yourself.”

  “Where is your father, Verity?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. But he’s not the man you once knew. He might even be dead already, or he might show his face again like the snake he is.”

  “You don’t seem too upset about the idea of your father being dead.”

  “I hope he is. You weren’t there when my mother died—if you had been, like Vincent Thiele, you’d be dead right now, too.”

  “Verity,” he said, a warning tone to his voice. “Don’t threaten me. I’ve got plenty on you, too, remember. I was the one who disposed of Vincent’s body.”

  “I know and I’m not. I’m trying to explain why my father means nothing to me. Yes, I went into Witness Protection, and I was going to testify against him, but he forced me to shoot my own mother. He made me choose between her life and my sister’s. If I didn’t shoot one of them, we were all going to die.”

  His green eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ.”

  “So you hadn’t heard the story?”

  He shook his head. “No. I heard your mother died because she’d been cheating on him. That was all.”

  It was interesting that even those present hadn’t spread the story of what had really happened. Had they been so ashamed of what they’d put two young women through that they hadn’t even been able to bring themselves to speak of the events? Or had my father sworn everyone to secrecy?

  “I’m sorry I lied to you before, but I didn’t have much of a choice. You have a choice now, however. You can start a war with me, where one of us most likely ends up dead. Or we can continue as we are, and, in a matter of mont
hs, I hope, I will step out of the way and you can take all of this for yourself.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what happens if your father returns?”

  “If he comes back, it goes one of two ways. I kill him, in which case, we continue with the plan, or else he kills me, and then you’ll go back to working for him as though nothing has changed.”

  We’d arrived back at my house. Dylan pulled the car up beside the one I’d abandoned a few hours earlier. He switched off the engine and twisted to face me. “And in the meantime, we just continue as we are?”

  I nodded. “Yes, and you find me the cleaner.”

  Chapter Twenty

  X

  I’d made it part of my morning routine to wake up early and get to the shower block before anyone else. We already had an early start, with lights on at five thirty, but I’d always been an early riser. Besides, it wasn’t as though I ever slept well in this place. It was impossible to fully relax when you never quite knew if someone was going to try to stab you in your sleep. I’d always been good at zoning out, getting some rest, while still being conscious of what was going on around me. It was part of what had made me good at my job—that ability to wait in one place for an extended length of time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike my mark.

  The C.O.s had told me to get back to bed the first couple of times I’d gotten up early, but now they were used to seeing me, and knew I wasn’t causing any harm. If I came up against Damps, I’d usually end up having to wait for everyone else to get up—something that seemed completely pointless to me—but there was no point trying to argue with that asshole.

  This morning I was in luck. One of the older guards, Reynolds, was on duty, and he just gave me a nod as I walked by, my wash bag in hand.

  I stepped into the shower block and stopped dead. The door to one of the middle showers was closed, the water from the shower pissing down onto the tiled floor. Water ran out from beneath the door, into the shared drain, but the water wasn’t clear.

  It was red.

  Immediately, I knew I’d walked into something I shouldn’t have.