'Not going to beg me to take pity on your sorry ass?' I ask Gabriel, giving him a mean grin. The fighter in me is back. He should be pleased.
As if to answer he does his best to grin right back at me. He knows where this is going, and neither of us are in any hurry to see each other die.
'So which finger should I cut first?' It's another delaying tactic. We won't be allowed to get away with them for much longer because Mal is not known for his sweet, caring side. He's an impatient bastard who loves blood, depraved sex, and screaming - not necessarily in that order.
Gabriel leans forward and points to the skin between all his fingers on his right hand. He then makes slashing movements which tell me all I need to know. He wants me to cut through the glue.
'You sure?' I ask loudly, followed with a whispered, 'That's going to be messy.' Gabriel nods quickly, as if to say 'get on with it'.
Mal studies us, wondering what I'm whispering about. He's getting suspicious and there is no time to argue.
'Good choice,' I say quickly, and lowering the knife I make swift incisions to separate his fingers. It's not clean and I do slice into some of his skin. It can't be helped. Then I press the knife's handle between them and pray for a miracle because I have a feeling that's what we're going to need.
Gabriel immediately begins screaming through his nose. It's a smoke screen. My head is leaning over the table at the minute, so Mal can't actually see what I've done, but we need to make him believe we are playing along. To add to the commotion there is then a big crash from somewhere in the warehouse and shots are being fired off left, right and centre. Are Mal's men turning on him? Who knows? Right now I don't care. Mal has his gun, and if we're not lucky we'll both be rather cold and looking a very attractive shade of blue this time tomorrow.
Gabriel's head spins around, with his arm already in motion. The knife is thrown with meticulous accuracy, considering the state his hand is in, and hits its target with unerring precision. Obviously this isn't the first time Gabriel has done this, but it is still breathtakingly impressive. One moment Mal is standing there in his freshly-pressed black suit and pristine white shirt, and the next his chest has a bloody knife sticking out of it while he clutches at his throat for air. I hope the knife has managed to nick a lung or something because I really need the asshole to suffer.
With a swift lunge of his leg Gabriel knocks Mal to the floor, and the bastard lies there, wondering what the hell has just happened. To be honest I'm kind of in the same place. Gabe then waves his hand in Mal's direction, as if encouraging me to do my worst.
I need no further encouragement. Kneeling down slowly over Mal I grasp the knife that's embedded in his chest and twist it slowly. The sound of his screaming, after all these years of being his bitch, is a sheer joy to behold.
Gabriel heads for the medicine cupboard in the bathroom, while I kneel beside Mal's body. He is still screaming as I twist the knife, and I have to confess I haven't gotten tired of the noise. After a couple of minutes Gabe comes back with lips that are cut and bleeding but are at least two parts of a whole. He holds up a razor blade and smiles.
'Happy birthday, sweetheart,' he says.
If this was a birthday present, it would be the best I've ever received and I'm very grateful. Hopefully my smile of appreciation conveys this.
'You okay?' I ask. The poor guy looks a mess, but I think everything should heal given a week or two. But if Mal had messed about for much longer that might not have been the case.
'I'm fine. The glue is annoying, but I can get rid of most of it with acetone later. As to the bruises, I've had worse. How are you?'
'I'm feeling much better, funnily enough.' That reminds me, we shouldn't still be alive. 'Where are all the guards?' The place should be crawling with bad guys by now, but we're still alone in here. I can't work it out.
'Oh, don't worry about them. I'm staging a coup. I asked Markovich if he wanted to join forces, and it looks like he's come to my rescue. I didn't think he'd go for it, but perhaps my reputation has preceded me.' Gabriel looks thoughtful.
I don't even pretend to understand. It goes over my head the same way water travels across a duck's back. I can mull it over later. All my thoughts are focused on the evil bastard lying on the floor. He's barely bleeding, but I figure I can do something about that.
Gabriel changes the subject. 'By the way, there's nothing sorry about my ass,' he says, deadly serious. He obviously hasn't forgotten my comment from earlier. 'A lot of hours' work went into that ass. Women faint at the sight of it. A few men, too, come to think of it.'
I roll my eyes. The guy is one arrogant-son-of-a-bitch, but he's not wrong. He's got the face of an angel and the personality of a dirty politician. For some reason I find it an irresistible combination, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let him get away with it.
'How would you know? Have you seen it? Besides, you've been inside for the last God knows how many years and women are as alien to you as a voting booth. Your ass could be downright awful.'
'It isn't,' he states confidently.
I sigh. 'It isn't,' I confirm. The damn bastard smiles again.
Pointing to Mal he says, 'If you need a hand with him, let me know, and try not to kill him. I don't mind if you stab him and chop little pieces off, but it would be a shame if he died too quickly. I have plans for him once you've had your fill. Leave me something to work with, okay?'
Gabriel walks towards me before sliding his hands, which are still rough with superglue, over the back of my neck. It's as if he's encouraging me to do my worst.
'Thank you,' I whisper, suddenly feeling all choked up.
He laughs. 'You can thank me by making that bastard suffer. Go do your worst, Wilkinson. Show me what you've got.'
'For a mere slip of a girl you'd be surprised at what I've got.' Pulling the knife out of Mal's chest, I press my fingernails into the wound sharply and relish the screams that accompany it.
'Well, I'm not easily surprised,' Gabriel remarks, peeling his bloodstained shirt off as he pulls up a plastic chair to watch me work.
Gods, that man is a distraction. He grins evilly, as if he knows exactly what he is doing to me, even though I haven't got anywhere near enough energy to take him up on it. That reminds me, there is something I need to say, and it can't wait any longer.
'I still love Brandt, Gabriel.' I bite my lower lip as I confess this and wonder whether he's about to go apeshit on me.
He simply nods his head. 'That makes two of us, sweetheart,' he says. 'That makes two of us.'
Chapter Twenty-Four - Brandt
You hear things on the inside. There was a sting operation at Mal's warehouse after I'd spilled the beans, and Mal was found. He'd been dead for at least five hours before anyone got there, along with quite a few other people. I have no idea if those included Harper and Gabriel, and I have no way of finding out. The police are only so helpful. They did tell me he wasn't in a good way. Someone had gone at him with a knife, a pair of pliers, a circular saw, and an orbital sander. One of the officers told me they'd never seen anything like it. That's what keeps me hopeful. It sounds like Gabriel's work. If he's alive there's a chance Harper is still around, and however slim that chance might be, I'll take it.
Unfortunately, though, this means they can't get any information from Adley, which they weren't too pleased about. Everything now rides on either Helena or Harper. Happily they have managed to pick Helena up. She was still staying at the hotel in the room we'd booked together. She didn't suspect a thing, so the woman is nowhere near as clever as she thinks she is.
I'm already thoroughly sick of being back behind bars. At the moment I'm not really in jail; I'm more of a grudging guest who's thinking about long-term stay options. I can't say I'm up for another round, though. The first time was bad enough. Besides, I've got someone to look out for now.
'This is a mess.' My lawyer looks at the paperwork before him and winces. The police aren't sure what to do with me, and the poor gu
y is quite frankly horrified that I've already spilled my guts to them without his say-so. He mutters something about leverage and the fact we'll need all we can get if I don't plan on hanging around. Yeah, I've already thought of that.
'They won't put me inside,' I say, shaking my head. The look he gives me is withering.
Straightening his navy silk tie he says, 'You're an ex-con, who's been released mere weeks ago. They'll put you away again in a heartbeat. They have a murder weapon.'
'They have a murder weapon without my prints on it. I know the real murderer. I've already given her to them.' There are several ways to disguise your fingerprints, as it happens. I thought I'd take a leaf out of Mal's book and cover them with superglue. It was entirely possible that Helena had cleaned her prints off the gun before giving it to me, in which case I have plenty of audio, recorded on my new mobile phone. I also have her phone, which contains all her conversations with Mal. A friend stole it for me shortly after she left the hotel. I have quite the network of talented friends these days.
'And the other murder weapon you mentioned? The one that might be connected with another crime?'
'Oh, that one,' I say, waving my hand in the air. 'That one has gone missing. Trust me.' He eyes me warily, but doesn't say a thing. Remember what I said about friends? Gabriel has lots of friends, and it is quite frankly astounding how many people owe him favours.
'That still doesn't mean you'll be able to wriggle your way out of this mess,' he warns. He's only doing his job. Things often don't go smoothly once you're behind bars, and I know that from experience.
'It does if I've already made a deal with the cops. They were more than happy to cooperate once I told them I could hand them Mal Adley and show them the whereabouts of the labs. You're just here to complete the paperwork and make sure I haven't missed anything.'
My lawyer blinks but doesn't miss a beat. 'Are you happy with the deal you made? If you aren't, now is the time to mention it.'
'I'm happy. I get to walk. They can't actually hold me, anyway, as I haven't committed a crime, but if anything does turn up with the other murder weapon, they're prepared to look the other way as long as all the other testimony adds up.'
Snapping open his briefcase, the man pulls a shiny silver pen out and begins filling in my paperwork. He tells me that he should be able to get me out of here, barring any other incidents, in the next few hours. It isn't soon enough, but there is no rushing the process, so I sit back and try to calm myself down.
Gabriel assured me everything would be okay. He was in on our last little meet in the hotel room. I told him everything that was happening, but I didn't like the way that meeting panned out. I hadn't discovered Helena intended to have me arrested from her phone, so she must have decided to do that after a meeting with Mal. If I'd known that things would have gone down differently. Thankfully, I did know she intended to frame me. I also discovered a lot more things about her that I never really wanted to know.
When all the relevant paperwork has been filled and filed, things start moving. I am duly processed, and my watch and belt are finally returned to me. They're keeping hold of my cell phone for the time being, and they're welcome to it.
Stepping out once more into the broad light of day, I wonder what I should do next. That's when I see my father waiting for me. The Mayor has come all the way down here to watch his son's walk of shame? Surely not. He made it very clear that he wouldn't give me the time of day the last time we spoke. Pretending I haven't seen him, I stride off in the opposite direction.
'Brandt, if you'd just give me a minute...' He sounds awkward. We haven't spoken in forever, so I guess that's how he should sound.
'Fuck off, Dad.' I have nothing to say to him, so I continue walking. I'm in no mood for a fight right now. I suspect he's going to speak to me about my actions, telling me how damaging they are for his career, but I couldn't care less. I have bigger things to worry about.
Dad doesn't stand there on the sidewalk, as I expect him to. Instead he comes rushing over. 'I need to speak to you. It's about Mal.'
That captures my attention quickly enough.
'What do you know about Mal?' I ask, whipping my head around so violently I nearly give myself whiplash.
'Mal was the reason we haven't spoken to you. He threatened to kill you if we came anywhere near you.' Dad's hands are shaking. I've never seen him like this. He is genuinely distressed.
Ping. A massive lightbulb switches itself on above me and everything falls magically into place. Oh. My. God.
'He controlled you through me, didn't he? He got you to look the other way as soon as you were elected. You did his dirty work for him, didn't you?' This is not the conversation we should be having outside a police station, and when dad's eyes flare and he points to his car, I decide I'll give him the chance to explain. If this goes the way I expect it to, he may not be a monster after all.
We don't speak again until the car starts moving. Dad is looking at me, his face devouring mine, and I can tell he is close to tears. He usually isn't one for outward displays of emotion, but today appears to be different.
He looks pained as he tries to figure out what he needs to say, but eventually he manages to spit it out.
'Adley knew I was going to get elected. He had this planned from the start. He has half the city on his payroll and everyone lives in fear of him. I'm so sorry, son,' he whispers, grabbing my hand.
Turning to face him I say, 'Are you in trouble, Dad?' If one of Mal's goons has taken over the business, it's entirely possible that he's still between a rock and a hard place. I'm not exactly sure how this kind of intimidation will work if I'm not behind bars, but I'm guessing they'll just use someone else as leverage. Hopefully not another member of my family, else I will lose it.
'I don't know,' he murmurs. 'I guess it depends on who takes over the business.'
'If they have footage of you with Mal, you're going down,' I whisper.
'I know.' His lower lip wobbles and for a moment I think he's going to break down on me. 'Your mother and I have missed you so much,' he eventually says, changing the subject. 'We thought you were going to die. We had to abandon you, but everything that was done was because we feared he would get to you. No one is safe around him. He killed two of my colleagues a week after I'd first met him. The man scared me witless.'
'He told you that you couldn't help me with my legal counsel, didn't he? He wanted me inside.' I shake my head. Adley, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch, it's a good job you're dead. I hope you suffered horribly.
Dad nods. 'We heard stories of what happened to you inside, every time something happened that Mal didn't like. It drove your mum insane. We've been living on a tightrope these past few years. She was admitted to Redgrove last month, and she's still in a bad way.'
Redgrove is a psychiatric hospital about ten miles away from home. Oh God.
'And Zeb, is he okay?' I don't know if they've managed to keep this mess from my brother, but they would have had to have told him something.
'He's okay. He misses you. We've tried to keep what was happening from him, but I'm pretty sure he's figured some of it out.' Dad chews his bottom lip.
'You didn't ask me to marry Helena, did you?' I know who did.
Dad shakes his head. 'No, that was Mal. He got hold of Simmons and orchestrated the rest. He said that if we even thought of going near you, someone would get hurt.'
'You don't mess with Adley,' I say, unnecessarily.
'I am so glad you're safe,' he whispers. 'I know I've been hard on you over the years, but that was because I wanted big things for you. I thought if you followed in my footsteps you'd have everything you'd ever want.' Dad rolls his eyes skyward as he looks away from me.
'Didn't turn out that way, huh?' I let out a small, bitter laugh.
'You have no idea. I'll be lucky to get out of this mess without going to jail as well - and I thoroughly deserve to, if I'm honest. I'm a corrupt politician who's made a mess of everything. I'm resig
ning my position as of this afternoon, and I'm never setting foot in politics ever again. While I don't expect you to forgive me, I hope you'll go see your mother and brother. They've been so worried about you. They both miss you terribly.'
I lean over to take his hand, which is still shaking, and I grasp it firmly.
'I know what Adley is capable of. You didn't have a choice. There is nothing to forgive.' Now I'm choked up and my voice is tight in my chest. Then we both try to speak at once.
'God, you've changed so much, son. What did they do to you in there?'
'I thought you'd abandoned me. I couldn't believe you'd do that.'
We both stop short, wondering who should go next.
'Let's go to dinner,' Dad says eventually. 'We have a lot to talk about.'
It's amazing how much I've missed since I've been inside. My brother has graduated from university and now has a job as a statistician. He was always good at maths. Zeb also has a steady girlfriend, a new passion for downhill skiing, and he is the life and soul of every party, Dad tells me. The last part is not news to me. He always was the party animal.
'And Mum?' I know she won't be in a good way. She was always nervous and anxious about things, and this will have nearly killed her.
'She's not good,' Dad admits, 'but she'll be better once you speak to her.' He grabs his diary from his pocket and writes a number down, before tearing out the page and handing it to me. 'She hasn't been the same since you left. This mess has been eating her alive, and six months ago she nearly lost it. Be gentle with her.'
I nod. As if I could be anything else. This is not her fault.
Dad finishes the steak in front of him and wipes his lips with his napkin before placing it on the table. 'Will they be able to charge you with anything? Are you in trouble? Do you need help?'
'I don't think so. Adley tried his best to pin a few things on me, but I think I've wriggled out from his clutches by the skin of my teeth.' The thought of spending twenty years inside makes me feel queasy. I couldn't go through that again.
Beautiful Tyrant (Enemies to Lovers - Dark Romance Book 3) Page 23
