Red on the Run (The Syndicate-Born Trilogy Book 1)

by K. M. Hodge

  His words were a hard slap to the face. Just as she was breaking down her walls, he seemed to be putting his up.

  Frustrated, she stormed out of the car and marched up to the steps of the B&B.

  ***

  Alex tried to calm his thundering heart before getting out of the car. He popped the trunk and took out the travel bags he had packed for them the night before.

  After he checked them in, he carried their things up the steep steps to their room.

  Katherine followed behind him, radiating an angry silence.

  That all changed when he opened the door to their room. He had gone all out and dug into his savings to get them the biggest and best room, but it was worth every penny when he saw the look of awe on her face.

  “Alex!” She turned to him, beaming. “What did you do?”

  He shrugged as if it had been no big deal.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his collarbone. Her anger from moments ago seemed to melt away into tears that wet his neck and the collar of his shirt. He held her tight, until she stopped crying and pulled away.

  He kissed her and whispered, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She breathed in heavily and her body relaxed.

  He nodded his head in the direction of the grove of trees. “Want to take a walk? The grounds are supposed to be amazing. They have a three-mile hike through the grove, which should be really beautiful this time of year, and I don’t know about you, but three hours in the car has me kind of stiff. I could use a little exercise.”

  “Yes, I would like that.” She linked her hand with his.

  He smiled down at her. “Great, let’s go!”

  ***

  I-90

  Danville, Virginia

  September 5, 2008

  4:00 PM

  ~~~

  The Senator sat in his town car looking through the latest intelligence reports, his heart hammering against his chest. Something was wrong. He had gotten a call that morning from one of the operatives in the FBI, who was equally concerned by the lockdown The Syndicate had initiated. If the FBI had anything, then the Attorney General would be acting soon.

  The partition between him and his driver slid down half way, and a pair of dark brown eyes regarded him through the rearview mirror. “We’re here, Senator.”

  “Thank you, Alejandro.”

  Apparently, you really do need to do things yourself if you want them done right!

  The Senator was never one to get his own hands dirty. There were filthy animals that could easily do it for him, and for the most part they did. This time he would have to roll up his shirtsleeves and join in the fray. His future may very well depend on it.

  His sister was no longer enemy number one. No, someone else had easily placed himself in his sights in front of her: Charles. If something were to happen to him and he couldn’t testify, the FBI wouldn’t have much of a case against Scott. Dollars to donuts there was one man who might have an idea of how to get to him—a weak, ineffectual man who would bend easily to Scott’s will or snap like a twig.

  ***

  Nancy’s B&B

  Speer, Illinois

  September 5, 2008

  4:00 PM

  ~~~

  Alex held Katherine’s hand as they walked between the orange, red, and yellow-leafed trees, grateful for this quiet time with her. It surprised him how easily he had left his past all behind to be with her. When he spotted a red bald cypress tree, he remembered that first night in the bar. With the tips of his fingers, he led her by the small of her back towards the tree.

  He reached up, plucked off one of the needles, and held it up to her hair. “Almost a perfect match.”

  Katherine blushed almost as red as the needle in his hand.

  He leaned down and kissed her softly, and as he pulled away, she stopped him and kissed him harder. She tugged on his shirt and backed up so that he pinned her up against the tree, with his body flush against hers. When her hands slid into the back pocket of his jeans, he groaned and gasped for air, feeling consumed by her passions. She wasn’t holding anything back, and even though she no longer seemed afraid, he struggled for control of his own desires.

  He was fighting a losing battle, as it was clear his body was done waiting. If you wait until everything is perfect, you will never act. Isn’t that what Betty said?

  Katherine pulled away from the kiss, her eyes pleading with him. “Make love to me, Alex.”

  His mind became muddled with a high-octane mixture of love and lust. His breathing grew ragged, making it even harder for him to think.

  Don’t think! Act! “Here?” he asked.

  She laughed, a little out of breath herself. “Do you think we can make it back to our room?”

  He nodded and yanked her by the arm down the path that led back to the B&B.

  Her girlish laughter echoed through the canopy of the fall leaves.

  This is love.

  ***

  Danville Press

  Danville, Virginia

  September 5, 2008

  4:00 PM

  ~~~

  Jason sat at his desk with the proof for the day’s paper spread out before him. A half empty glass tumbler sat beside him with what was left of his alcohol stash.

  Lisa Eddie, his Editor-in-Chief, tossed a crumpled piece of paper that hit him square between the eyes. “Take it easy over there, Hemmingway. Write drunk, edit sober, remember?”

  He grumbled and downed the last of the scotch.

  Lisa rested her feet on top of his desk, tipping back on the back legs of the chair, a red pen balanced behind her ear and a pair of reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose. “We need to get moving on this or we’re going to miss our deadline, boss.”

  He frowned at her feet. “Just make yourself at home, Eddie.”

  A smile crept across her face, and she blatantly placed her hands behind her head in a relaxed posture. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “You have a hot date tonight or something? That why you’re in such a hurry to get rid of me?”

  “Actually, yes I do. I’m getting picked up in an hour.”

  He pushed off the desk and stood up. Today was one of those days when he would jump at anything to avoid having to do any actual work. “I’m going to get some coffee. You want any?”

  “Yes, but only if you’re going out to get some. If you even try to bring me the sludge from the kitchen in this shithole, I will hurt you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, princess. Remind me why I hired you again? It seems fucked up that I pay you to harass me and to fetch you overpriced lattes.”

  His friend and colleague for over fifteen years chuckled. “Hardy har har. You know you would be lost without me.”

  “Yeah, I guess there’s that.” He snatched his jacket off the back of the chair and put it on. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  Eddie waved at him, not taking her eyes off one of the articles she was editing. “Sure thing, boss.”

  He walked through the familiar aisles of the darkened bullpen, which during the day was bustling with energetic, over-caffeinated writers. He had been a little heavy-handed with the drinking all afternoon, leaving him unsteady on his feet, which made an echoing sound on the hard linoleum.

  He hadn’t seen the man sitting in the shadows, perched on the edge of one of the desks. “Coffee’s going to have to wait.”

  Jason froze in mid-step and his mouth went dry. Adrenaline coursed through him, sobering him up a little. A single beam of light streamed into the room and reflected off the cold metal glint of a gun barrel aimed directly at his head.

  “Sit down, Jason.”

  Jason trembled as he reached behind him to sit down at one of the desks.

  Out of the shadows stepped Scott Mitchel with a small gun in his hand.

  “Jesus Christ, Scott. What are you doing?”

  “Taking matters into my own hands, something I should have done from
the very beginning. I did nothing wrong, and yet a bunch of ignorant grease monkeys are going to drag me into the mud with them.”

  Scott wound a tight rope around Jason, tying him to the chair. The rough cord bit into his skin at even the slightest movement.

  “Didn’t your old man get shot in here?” Scott looked around the old newsroom that had been around since the 1950s.

  “Shut the fuck up, Scott,” Jason said through clenched teeth.

  The door to Jason’s office opened with a flourish as his loudmouth editor filled the doorframe with her tall lanky body. “Jay, come on, man. Quit fucking around. We’ve got work to do.”

  A loud crack echoed and a whoosh of wind whirled past him. He watched in agony as Lisa fell hard to the ground.

  His head snapped back to Scott. “I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch.”

  Scott shook his head and chuckled. “You go right ahead and try. I’d actually like to see you stand up and be a real man for once.”

  Jason fought against the rope holding him in place. It ripped and tore at his flesh, and blood ran down his arms and pooled into his open palm. His brow furrowed and his lip curled as he looked over at Lisa bleeding out a few yards away from him. “There’s no getting away with this. If she dies, you’re going to spend the rest of your life rotting away in prison.”

  Scott sat backwards on the chair in front of him. “I think we both know that my days are numbered. I don’t plan to go down without a fight, though.”

  “What do you want?” Jason asked between clenched teeth.

  “I want Charles MacAvoy... dead.” He used the same tone he might employ when asking for a glass of water.

  Jason huffed in exasperation. “You’re insane. You know this, right?”

  He didn’t see it coming, but he felt the impact of the hard metal against the side of his face. Scott pushed off the chair and loomed over Jason as blood pooled inside his mouth. It made him gag and choke as it ran down his throat. He sputtered, causing blood to splatter onto Scott’s crisp white shirt. One of Jason’s bottom teeth now lay sideways in his mouth.

  The fucker knocked my tooth out! He spit his tooth and more blood from his mouth.

  Scott looked down at his soiled shirt with a look of disgust.

  A hard blow to Jason’s other cheek sent him reeling.

  Scott reached into Jason’s pants pocket for his wallet, and took out three crisp twenty dollar bills. Jason watched with incredulity as Scott pocketed the money with a shrug. “This should cover the dry cleaning.”

  Jason’s head lulled to the side. He had lost the ability to sit up, and was now held up only by the binding that held him against the hard back of the chair. He had to fight to stay conscious. Blood pooled in his mouth and continued to run down the back of his throat, making him feel queasy. The Mitchel family was literally going to be the death of him.

  Scott smirked. “I just don’t get it, Knettle. Why would you help Charles out? When they told me what you did, I couldn’t believe it. He treated the love of your life like a punching bag. This was your chance to make him pay. Instead, you helped him plea out of a capital murder charge.”

  The swelling in Jason’s eye left him with only one eye to look up at his psychopathic ex-friend. Scott’s words washed over him, and he realized he didn’t have a rational answer for him—at least not one he would want to hear. Jason had always been opposed to the death penalty, and it wasn’t like Charles was getting off scot free.

  He licked his sore lips as his head lulled to the right. “Are you worried they may make you bunk mates?”

  Scott rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

  Jason watched him carefully, wanting to be prepared for the next blow. When Scott sat back down instead, Jason let out a short breath of relief; he wasn’t sure he could take another hit.

  “When is Charles being transferred to house arrest?”

  Scott’s intense glare made him sweat. Jason wet his lips again and grimaced as he swallowed hard. He had been in contact with Charles. Despite his wishes to be done with the man, it seemed Charles was not ready to wash his hands of him.

  Why can’t they just leave me the fuck alone?

  Scott eyed him as though he could read his mind. “I know you have kept in touch with him. My contact at the prison said he’s been talking to you, but no one seems to know when his release date is. Something tells me that you know.”

  A sudden rush of clammy heat overcame Jason, and he vomited blood and scotch down the front of his shirt.

  Scott pushed the chair back to avoid the mess. “Good God, man, get a hold of yourself.”

  Jason groaned as his stomach continued to spasm, and the pain was more than he could take. At that moment, through the corner of his one good eye, he saw movement. Scott was too busy inspecting his clothes to see, but someone was crouched low behind one of the desks just a few yards from where they sat.

  A light went on in Jason’s muddled mind. Marianna! Eddie’s cop girlfriend was early for their date.

  He rolled his head back to Scott. He would need to keep him occupied. “Okay, I’ll tell you as long as you promise that I never have to see any of you again.”

  Scott looked up from his shirt stains. “Yeah, sure thing. What do you know?”

  Jason shifted in the chair. “The last I heard, he’s getting released to serve out the rest of his sentence in his new house outside of Danville. It’s that old mansion off Marion Lane. He wanted me to coordinate with a security team to get it ready.”

  Scott sighed and smiled—a look of victory unfolding across his arrogant face.

  Jason smiled despite the swelling and, unable to stop himself, started to laugh.

  Scott frowned. “What’s so funny?”

  He laughed even harder when Marianna pressed the barrel of her service weapon against the back of Scott’s head. “Drop your weapon.”

  Scott’s face fell, but his finger, still on the trigger, pressed down.

  Jason was already so riddled with pain that at first he didn’t even register that Scott had shot him... until he saw the dark red sticky blood running down his shirt and pants. The last thing he saw before the darkness came was Marianna knocking Scott out with the butt of her weapon.

  When he came to, the newsroom was bustling with cops and medics. Several EMT’s were working on him. He tried to move his arm but he couldn’t, and searing pain shot through him.

  “Sir,” an EMT said. “Please don’t move. You’ve been shot, but you’re going to be okay.”

  An oxygen mask covered his swollen face, the straps digging into the tender spot on his jaw where his tooth had been. He blinked hard, causing tiny tears to slide down his cheeks, but the familiar figure leaning over him brought him an immediate sense of relief. Marianna.

  “Hey there, nice to see you’re still a member of the living.”

  “Lisa....” he said, surprised by the hoarse sound of his voice.

  She held up her hand to shush him. “She’s going to be okay. It was bad, but it looks like you both will live to write another day.”

  He let out a deep sigh of relief. Thank God!

  She sank down onto her haunches. “Senator Mitchel was taken into custody by the local PD. It’s going to take a lot of paperwork since I’m out of my jurisdiction here. They’re going to want to talk to you as soon as you’re up for it. Make sure your lawyer is there. Okay?”

  He blinked a short nod with his one good eye to let her know he understood.

  She pushed the hair back off his forehead.

  The soft touch comforted him, and he sighed quietly as his tired eyes slid closed.

  “Get some rest. You can fill me in on all of this later. Just close your eyes and rest.”

  ***

  Richmond Memorial Hospital

  Richmond, Virginia

  September 5, 2008

  10:00 PM

  ~~~

  Emmanuel Richards and a fresh-faced officer from the Danville PD stood outside the open
door to Jason Knettle’s private room. Richards paused outside the room and looked over his shoulder at the officer behind him. “I’m running this show. Take the notes you need for your records, but don’t you dare fuck this up for me. You hear?”

  The officer nodded emphatically.

  Richards was glad that he still had it in him to put the fear of God into a young man when he needed to. “Good.”

  He walked into the darkened room, pleased to see Jason sitting up in bed and talking on his cellphone as if he hadn’t been shot just six hours prior.

  Jason grimaced as he chuckled. “I can’t thank you enough, Mari. I don’t even want to think what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

  Richards stepped farther into the room with his hands in his pants pockets, pushing back his opened suit jacket behind him.

  The Danville police detective followed behind him at his heels, where he belonged.

  Jason looked up and met his eye. “Hey, Mari, I gotta let you go. The cavalry just showed up for my statement. No, I don’t need a lawyer, thanks. Yeah, I’ll take it easy. Just take good care of Eddie. You know it will take us both to keep her out of that office.” He chuckled again. “Later.”

  After ending the call, Jason tossed the phone onto the bed and looked up at Richards and the plainclothes officer with a grim look on his face.

  “Hi, Jason, it’s good to see you again. This here is Detective Hoover from the Danville PD. He and his men made the arrest tonight. We need to get your statement for our records.”

  “I don’t really have anything to tell you,” Jason said.

  Richards hunkered down into the seat beside the bed. “I talked with your editor. She didn’t fare as well as you did, but it looks like you both got pretty fucking lucky.”

  “Lucky,” Jason said with a huff, twisting the bed sheets with his one good hand. He cleared his throat and grimaced as his hand moved up to favor his swollen jaw.

  Richards had heard about the lost tooth. It had to hurt like a motherfucker. Once he had lost two teeth boxing in the Navy, and the memory of that pain was still fresh in his mind twenty years later.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked, and nodded his head to Jason’s mangled face.

  “Like I went through a meat grinder.” Jason let out a short laugh that made him grimace again.