A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7)

by Blake, Lexi

  Ian stayed behind, his expression grave as he looked Simon’s way. “Are you sure you want to come with us? I can handle it from here if you want. I can drop off you and Jesse and you can head back to the office with the rest of them.”

  He said nothing, simply held her knowing this would be one of the last times. The last time. Funny, he should have known the only way she would be sweet and docile in his arms was when she was unconscious.

  Ian put a hand on his shoulder. “Man, I know where you are. Charlotte’s high if she thinks everything’s going to magically be all right. You need a little time. If you need to take a step back, I’ll understand.”

  Dump her on Ian. He could dump her here and now and go back to his regularly scheduled life. He likely wouldn’t even have to see her again.

  Or he could use her the way she’d used him. He hadn’t even fucked her arse yet. He hadn’t done half the things he wanted to. He could prove to her that he was the boss and she meant nothing to him.

  Idiot. He was a bloody idiot because he was making excuses. Even as she ripped his heart out, he was trying to find a way to stay close to her.

  “I’ll finish the op.” Simon hauled her to his chest. She weighed next to nothing. Despite the fact that she’d just betrayed him, he couldn’t leave her alone. He couldn’t turn her over to Ian and just hope that she was all right. He shouldn’t care and eventually, he wouldn’t, but he couldn’t just walk away yet.

  He would do his job. His job was all he had left.

  He carried her to the van and settled her in then got into the back. He got in beside her, but kept his eyes front. She would be out for a while and then he would have to deal with her bile. For all the false sweetness and affection she’d given him, she would likely equal it with her nastiness.

  Alex took off, leaving the ranch in the dust. His real home. Despite the fact that his aunt had helped him, he had to wonder if he’d be welcome again. His uncle was indulgent with her, but he had a breaking point and Simon was a little afraid that JT might have found it. It seemed all he’d managed to do was cause a massive rift in his family.

  All of them it seemed. Ian was sitting next to Jesse in the very back and he turned to him. “What the fuck did you think you were doing? I understand what Simon was doing. He was following his dick. Your dick isn’t involved so you should have had a brain in your head. Who do you owe your fucking loyalty to? You should have called me the minute you realized Simon was running. My goddamn number should have been the only thing on your brain and yet you just did whatever the hell Simon told you to. Who are you loyal to? Decide right fucking now. Are you loyal to him or me?”

  Shit. He’d done this to Jesse, too. “It’s not his fault.”

  “Shut up, Simon. This is between me and him. I want to know and you better think about it. Who is your first loyalty to?”

  Jesse’s face went blank. He stared straight ahead. Ian was treating him like he was a new recruit straight off a damn bus and meeting his drill sergeant for the first time. “It’s to Simon. My first loyalty is to Simon Weston. He’s my best friend.”

  Charlotte winked at Simon.

  And Ian put a hand on the back of Jesse’s head. “That’s right, Murdoch. That’s your fucking partner and you take care of him. If he wants to do stupid shit, you go with him and make sure he doesn’t die. We have partners on this team and we back them. I’ve got Alex. Jake, the poor asshole, got stuck with Adam.”

  Adam sat in the front seat next to Alex. He lifted his hand, sending Ian his middle finger. “Fuck you, Tag.”

  Ian ignored him. “And Li has that bottle of beer he never seems to finish. Or maybe he just starts ’em faster than my eye can track. You did good, Murdoch. I might be pissed as shit, but he’s your partner and you take care of him.” Ian sat back and Simon took a deep breath. “I found a lot of blood at that motel. You do that?”

  Jesse nodded. “I lost it.”

  “And we’ll deal with that, too. I promise, man.” He reached out and smacked Jesse upside the head. “But what the fuck were you thinking letting that dumbass mini-me get the jump on you?”

  And Big Tag was off. He was yelling about anything and anyone who came into his bloody head. Charlotte gave Simon a smile. She was on the other side of Chelsea’s unconscious body.

  “He’s been worried. You have to let him yell for a while. In the meantime, I’m supposed to make a list of all the places we lived so we can try to figure out where this package thing went. It’s a long damn list,” Charlotte admitted.

  But he could narrow it. “You kept up addresses everywhere?”

  She shook her head. “No. Just a couple of places. Our favorite places.”

  But Al had only talked about one place. Damn it. He’d been off his game. He’d been thinking so much about Chelsea that he hadn’t really thought about the problem at hand. Why the hell had Al spent so much time reminding her about Europe if he wasn’t trying to warn her? And there was really only one place in Europe to go. He thought back to that night. Al had mentioned Europe, but Chelsea had told him that Al Krum had met her in Venice.

  Al Krum had been rather brave. He’d lost his family and his life and he’d still attempted to give Chelsea a chance at getting out of this alive.

  “We need to get to Venice.”

  And then he could finish this thing forever.

  “You want to explain?” Ian asked.

  He turned so he was staring out into the night. He’d never really belonged here. It was a temporary home at best, like all places in his life.

  “Certainly, but Adam should find us a plane because we need to get to Italy.” He began his explanation, vowing silently to finish the job so he could finally let her go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chelsea came awake slowly, the world foggy and vague. Sound. She could hear something that sounded like thunder. No. Not thunder. Engines. She knew that sound.

  Chelsea forced herself to sit up. Damn it. What the hell had happened and why was she so lethargic? Her body felt heavy, her eyelids barely able to open. For the first moment her vision was dimmed, but slowly the world started to come into focus. Yes, she had to focus.

  Take stock. Figure out where you are.

  She was in a chair, a seat belt around her middle. To her right was a small window.

  Chelsea groaned. Damn her sister. She was on a plane. How the hell had they gotten her on a plane?

  “Morning, sunshine,” Charlotte chirped from the seat beside her. “Aren’t you super happy to be awake? Rise and shine. We’re somewhere over New England. That makes me think of crab cakes. Damn, I’m hungry.”

  “How long was I out?” She was suddenly aware of an aching pit in her stomach. Simon. The last thing she remembered was Simon’s face. He’d gone a careful blank, but not before she’d seen his hurt. It had been right there in his eyes. They’d widened and he’d looked down at her like she’d stabbed him in the heart and he was trying to find a way to make sense of it. And then the emotion had blinked from existence because he wouldn’t share with her anymore.

  She’d killed it. She found it threatening and scary. Simon’s love had been something she didn’t understand so she’d done what she did with all things she didn’t understand; she’d gotten rid of it.

  Oh, god, what had she done?

  Charlotte looked down at her watch. “A couple of hours.”

  “What?” Simon had done something to her. God, Simon had opened his arms and she’d walked into them, and if she needed any explanation of how thoroughly she’d killed any love he’d had for her it was there in the fact that he’d done that to her. Simon, who was always so careful with her, who rubbed her legs when they ached and placed his body in front of hers so he took whatever came her way, had pressed on her carotid until her brain no longer had the blood flow to properly function. It was a martial arts move and dangerous as hell. She could have died and apparently that had been fine with him.

  And what had she expected? She’d basica
lly told the man she’d used him for sex and that he wasn’t good for anything else.

  Misery swamped her, a familiar friend. She understood misery in a way she just didn’t comprehend happiness. Happiness was climbing to the top of the building and feeling like the king of the world before the inevitable multistory fall broke her again.

  Focus. She had to focus if she was going to deal with the situation. “I should have been out thirty minutes tops. Less really.”

  “Oh, I dosed you with sedatives for transport. We had to do a little creative manipulation of the system. So we drove to Dallas and got on a Malone private jet and took it to Houston, where we then logged a flight plan for that plane to Phuket. Derek and Karina met us there. They’re flying as you and Simon and they’re so grateful for the honeymoon. It might involve a little gunplay, but apparently Karina hasn’t killed anyone in a while and it’s made her cranky. Meanwhile, we’re taking this Malone jet to Canada.”

  “You drugged me like I’m a rabid fucking dog you needed to keep calm?”

  Charlotte sighed and smiled. “Yes. Excellent analogy. I’m so glad you understand. We changed planes and used aliases. New ones. Adam can work fast when he has to. It’s just the five of us now. You and me and Simon and Ian and Jesse. Ian tried to tell Jesse he would handle it, but he took that whole partner speech seriously.”

  Partner speech? She had to shake her head to try to clear it. She wasn’t sure what Charlotte was talking about, but one thing penetrated her brain. Simon was still here? It didn’t matter. It would be better if he’d left. She would have one less person to deal with. Her sister could be obnoxious. “Why? Why the hell did you do this?” She tried to stretch, but her leg was aching terribly. “I told you what I wanted. I’ll just walk away when we land. This was all for nothing. I’ll call Ten and he’ll come and get me.”

  Charlotte picked up her glass from the table in front of her and turned her chair. They weren’t flying commercial. It looked like an executive jet. Was Simon in the cockpit?

  Cock. She would never see his cock again. She was going to miss his cock forever.

  “Ten is spitting mad.” Charlotte leaned over like they were gossiping about boyfriends or something. “He called Ian and left the nastiest voice mail. Something about murdering him but only after he’s played with his innards. He actually used the word innards. That boy’s country comes out when he’s mad. So, tell me how it was with Simon. Was he as good as he looks? Don’t tell Ian, but the whole suit thing kind of does it for me. He wasn’t a gentleman in bed, was he? He was all nasty, right?”

  He’d been perfect. He’d given her everything he had and she would dream about him for the rest of her life. “It’s none of your business. When do we land?”

  “Not for a while. We have to change planes again. We’re going to bed down in Toronto for a bit. We’re doing the equivalent of making sure we don’t have a tail so we won’t be where we need to be until sometime the day after tomorrow. Which gives us time to talk because that’s so not fair. I totally told you all about Ian.”

  “I didn’t want to hear it.” Her sister was big with the over share. “I still don’t. I’m glad you’re happy with Ian and all, but I don’t want to be here. Are you really going to keep me against my will?”

  She could still salvage this. If she got back to Ten, or even just got to talk to him so he knew she hadn’t run willingly, he would probably keep up his end of the bargain. Probably.

  She had to make sure Simon was safe. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life on the run because she’d gotten him into a bad situation. Or worse, he wouldn’t run. He would turn himself in and face murder charges and The Collective probably had really good lawyers. He would get sent to prison and likely murdered himself. She couldn’t be the reason that happened.

  Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what you want.”

  Frustration welled. “I do. I just don’t want the same thing you want so you think I’m wrong.”

  “I know you’re wrong.”

  She sighed, so tired. “I don’t care. Unless you’re going to continue to drug me, I’ll find a way to leave. You can’t keep me here.”

  The glass knocked against the tray table, and Charlotte’s hands made fists in her lap. “I’m so sick of this. Do you understand what a fucking brat you are?”

  She understood that quite well. “Yep. Which begs the question of why you won’t let me go.”

  “Because I love you. Because you’re my sister, but I’ll be honest, I’m getting really sick of how weak you are.”

  Weak? A surge of red-hot anger flowed through her. “You think I’m weak? I’m the one who had to take all the beatings, all the pain, so the beautiful Charlotte Denisovitch could stay daddy’s little princess.”

  “Yeah, such a princess. He loved me so much, Chels. He wanted me to become his assassin because he thought having a pretty teenage girl killing his enemies was amusing. Yes, I was so happy to be his favorite. I did it. I killed people for him to save you. I did things you can’t imagine for you, and you’re the little shit who wasn’t grateful for any of it.”

  Charlotte wanted to do this now? Oh, she could do it. This was a long time coming. “I lost my fucking legs for you. I ache every single day because I was the whipping girl.”

  “No. You lost them because you’re too weak to fix them.” Charlotte’s pretty face was red with anger. “Yes, something horrible happened, but you’re the one who refused to recover.”

  “I was a girl. What did you expect from me? I managed to walk again.” Battered, that was how she felt. Charlotte’s anger was beating against her like a damn hurricane.

  “But you wouldn’t do the work it took to be really strong.”

  How little she remembered. “You’re so good at rewriting history. Do you honestly believe he would have taken me to a therapist?”

  Charlotte leaned forward. “I would have. I would have risked everything to make sure you got what you needed. I would have done whatever it took, but you retreated. You were too scared. And after I did what I had to do to take that monster out, you still wouldn’t do anything about it.”

  “We were on the run. What did you want me to do?” They often hadn’t known where they would be in the next hour, much less had a life that allowed for scheduled appointments.

  “I wanted you to fight for yourself.”

  The accusation cut deep. “I’ve fought for myself my whole damn life.”

  “No, you’ve accepted what you were given. You’ve waited for the universe to crap all over you because you got dealt a shitty hand. You’ve let him win. He wasn’t the only thing in your life, but you let him win.”

  She had to shake her head as the unfairness of Charlotte’s words hit home. “How can you say that?”

  A little of Charlotte’s anger seemed to flee as she sighed and continued on. “Because I’ve watched you. You would rather just sit in that fucking chair and have a half-life because you’re so damn scared. You think being The Broker made you powerful? It was like playing a video game for you. Those people weren’t real. Those hacker friends of yours would have sold you out in a heartbeat.”

  “Al didn’t.” At least she’d had one person to depend on.

  “Fine, great. You had one friend and you mostly ignored him until you needed something from him.”

  The words pierced her. Like a video game? Had she really been that person? She’d shuffled the players around, sending real information or false leads depending on who had pissed her off that day. Sure the people she’d dealt with had been the bad people of the world, but their actions had affected the innocent and she’d been the shadow behind it all.

  She’d started because they’d needed information to be safe, to hide from the syndicate. She’d continued because they’d needed money, but even after they had plenty, she’d reveled in it. She’d gotten addicted to being the all-powerful Oz of the Internet.

  But when she drew back the curtain, there was only a broken
little girl who’d never cared enough to put herself back together.

  Had she let one person, one monster ruin her life even from the grave? Had she become nothing but a shadow?

  You could be so much more. Simon’s words whispered through her brain.

  Could she?

  “Why did he hate me?”

  Charlotte stopped, her mouth dropping open. “Are you talking about our father?”

  Chelsea nodded. It still hurt. He’d been a terrible human being and she could remember his face as he’d beaten her. Hatred. Pure hate. In his own perverse way, he’d loved Charlotte, but there had been nothing but hate for Chelsea.

  Tears dripped from Charlotte’s eyes.

  “You have to tell her now.” Ian stood up. He’d been sitting behind them and Chelsea hadn’t noticed. Great. Satan had witnessed her humiliation. He likely thought she was weak, too. “If you don’t, I will.”

  Tell her? “What?”

  Charlotte’s face was pale as she turned back to Chelsea. “He wasn’t your father, sweetie. Adam caught it. He was making sure all records of the two of us were erased.”

  What was she talking about? “I did that.”

  “Not the new ones. You had blood tests on your last checkup.”

  The one Charlotte had dragged her to. The doctor had tried to set up PT on her legs, had advised her yoga classes would help her mobility, had said any number of helpful things that Chelsea ignored because she knew the truth. They wouldn’t get better. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Adam has a file on all of us. Including everything he could find out about our parents. I have Dad’s blood type. You don’t. You don’t have Mom’s either.” Charlotte sat back. “I found out a couple of months ago.”

  Her father wasn’t her father? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I took it a step further. I think I found your dad. Mom had a professor teaching her Russian. He was at a university in Moscow. He was killed the day Mom left. I think he was trying to meet her. I think they were trying to run together. She got out. He didn’t.”