The End of Lies: The Single Lady Spy 4 (The Single Lady Spy Series)

by Tara Brown

  I scanned the room as Kolinsky, a brutishly large man, closed the heavy double doors, making it even darker. He locked them, the click echoing in my mind as Barron spun me, running his hands up and down my arms. “You are stunning.” He brushed a thumb over the fabric covering my nipple, making it pop as a shiver crept up my spine.

  The words I’d spoken to Elise about needing to be a mom after all this crept back into my mind. Could I do this and still be normal tomorrow? Or was this a sign that I wasn't going home? I needed to find Luce. If this was happening to me, it might be happening to her. How did I get out of here unscathed without causing a scene?

  Kolinsky came up behind me, pressing himself into my body and smelling my hair. His hands ran along the front of my pants as he lowered his mouth to my neck. “Are you a virgin?” he whispered.

  My lips refused to open but I shook my head. My hands began to tremble and my heart raced. Sweat crested my brow as the unsettling feeling of anxiety and human instinct warned me of everything I was about to endure.

  “Good.” His words were breathy.

  I whimpered as his fingers found their way to the clasps at the back of my short shirt. He unhooked it, loosening it so it fell forward, draping from me.

  “Let us have a look at you,” Barron spoke breathily as well, as he stepped back and dragged the top from me. He inhaled sharply, pursing his lips and nodding. “We have a winner, Erwin.” He ran his hands up my torso to my breasts, cupping them and lifting, almost like he was weighing them.

  My fingers balled as my mind blanked on ideas that didn't involve mass amounts of bloodshed.

  Surely, they had guns on them. If not, at least Barron would know where the guns in the room were stored. I could get my hairpin out and stab one but the other would attack. I would get hurt, maybe killed. I would fight back with everything I had in me. But noises would draw attention. Maybe guards were out on the dark lawn, watching through the windows I couldn’t see out of. Maybe they would raise the alarm. I would get Elise and Luce killed. And my mom.

  All because I couldn't let this happen.

  I needed to go home after this. I needed to be with my kids. I needed to quit this stupid job and be a soccer mom again. I promised God I would, if he could get me out of this.

  But no solution presented itself, not even from God, so I relented, relaxing my arms.

  There was no way to keep my cover, our cover, intact and save my body from the invasion it was about to endure.

  There was one option.

  Let them do it, kill them both during if I got the chance.

  Everything in me protested, but I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and tried to pretend the lips on my breasts placing wet kisses were his, Servario’s. I told myself the hands undoing my pants and dragging them down, spreading my legs belonged to the man who owned my body and heart. Although he didn't want them anymore.

  “Open your eyes,” Barron muttered.

  Kolinsky’s belt rustled behind me.

  I opened my eyes as Barron grabbed my hand and pulled it toward him. He placed it on his trousers, lifting an eyebrow expectantly.

  I began fumbling with the zipper as the sound of Kolinsky rubbing himself to get hard and then the feel of him rubbing himself against my thigh and butt cheek startled me.

  “The terror in your eyes is like a drug.” Barron laughed and grasped my face as I pulled an enormous cock from his pants. I squeezed it, my fingers not making it all the way around. He waggled his eyebrows at me as I stroked lightly.

  Kolinsky began rubbing himself between my butt cheeks. I wasn't sure my hemorrhoid story would garner much sympathy here.

  But this was it. This was my hard line. This was as far as I let things go.

  I let go of the cock, about to grab the hairpin, when the sound of whooshing air and a juicy pop made me pause.

  Barron’s eyes widened, and he blinked once before falling over as a second whoosh and pop filled the air.

  Kolinsky fell to the ground behind me.

  My mouth dropped open as I searched the shadowy room for the source of the noise. Was I next?

  “You were going to let him, a complete stranger, do that, but I’m not allowed?” Servario whispered harshly from the dark corner of the room next to the French doors he had obviously come in, with a gun. He stepped into the dim light as he unscrewed the silencer on the end, as if killing those men was a normal day at the office for him. In the faint light I saw his steely gaze.

  “You’re here,” the words fell out, drowned in disbelief. Had God sent him? Was that even a possibility?

  “No hemorrhoids stories for them?” he asked playfully, but the stress in his gaze was obvious.

  “You killed them?” I asked, turning in a circle. “What if there are cameras in here?”

  “There aren’t. It’s why Barron brought you here. Saransk doesn't allow cameras in his office or bedroom or bathroom. The three places in the house that are unprotected.”

  “You saved me.” I was still a bit lost in the moment.

  “Get dressed. Jesus, Evie, someone could come in.” He switched off the single lamp in the room and stared out the dark window. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

  “They almost—they were going to—” Contemplating the next part of the sentence made my fingers shake and my mouth sour. My stomach retched and I rushed forward, grabbing the wastepaper basket from the side of the desk, losing the contents of my stomach in it. I heaved and gagged as sobs escaped my lips and tears burned my eyes. I trembled from the cold reality of what I had just been spared.

  “You’re safe,” Servario whispered as he hurried to me, brushing his warm palms up my back.

  We stayed this way until I was finished throwing up. I had needed a minute to wash it all away, the feel of their fingers and mouths on me. “Where’s Luce and Elise?” I asked, worried they too were suffering through the side work expected of us.

  “They’re both fine.”

  “That was so close.” I wiped my mouth and crawled up to him, letting him lift me into his embrace. “I need to go home. I need to go home and be a mom and stop this.” I shuddered again.

  “Evie.” His gaze hardened as he lifted my chin. “You said you would go all the way on this one. Why is that?”

  “The kids. Mine and the slaves.” The words picked at me, thinking about teenaged girls with men like Barron and Kolinsky made me ill. “I have to kill him. I have to end it.” I didn't sound convincing. I wasn't. But if ever there was a moment for big-girl panties, this was it. I’d come to finish a man, I needed to finish the job. “Okay, let’s do this.” I inhaled sharply and nodded.

  “You sure?” It was his turn to sound unconvinced.

  “Yeah. I’m good. I just can’t believe you came.” My voice almost wavered again, “You saved me.”

  “Of course I did. What did I tell you, Evie?” He pulled me back, staring deeply into my eyes. “What did I say about other people touching you?”

  “I’m yours,” I sniffled and for the first time since we’d met, I was grateful for his ridiculousness.

  “That’s right. You’re mine. Despite the fact you don't want to be, you are.” He cradled me in his arms for the moment we had. “Now put your costume back on. I’ll hide these bodies.” He placed me down gently and turned away, grabbing Barron by the foot and dragging him to the desk, pushing his body underneath it.

  He did the same thing with Kolinsky as I pulled on my disgusting outfit. I hadn’t minded it before this moment. But now it was the last thing I wanted touching me. Besides the other guests at the party of course.

  “Can you zip me back up?” I asked as I spun, turning my back to him. I caught the glint of his eyes, noting the fierceness he still tried to contain. “Thank you, Gustavo,” I offered softly.

  “Thank Jack,” he murmured. “He called me to tell me what was about to happen.” He zipped me back up. “Now I’m not supposed to be in here. So you have to leave here on your own. Go to
the bathroom and make sure you don't have any blood on you. Who are your next targets?”

  “Saransk’s daughters.” I eyed the large desk. “Why doesn't he have a computer in here?” I asked absently.

  “This isn’t the place for that. This office is for other things. The office upstairs has the computers. I’ll meet Luce up there. Jack, tell Luce to get upstairs, to the left just past the bathroom on the right.”

  “Okay,” Jack said to me.

  “Jack says okay,” I repeated to Servario.

  “I’ll keep her safe,” he whispered and exited the room, checking both ways before turning left.

  “Jack,” I muttered into the dark room.

  “Yeah.” He sounded funny in the earpiece, worried maybe.

  “Thanks for calling S.”

  “He told me to call him the moment you were in danger of someone hurting you. Those were his orders.”

  “Oh.” I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. After how we’d left things, I sort of assumed I was on my own. “Well, thanks anyway.”

  “Yeah. It’s what I’m here for. I’m sorry that happened.” He was sincere.

  “Me too.” I nodded and gathered my strength before proceeding from the office. I closed the door behind me, leaving it dark and silent in there.

  Silent as the dead who remained in the shadows of the room.

  11

  Roofie in Russian

  The party in the backyard was in full swing. Mom smoked a cigar and laughed with the men seated at the table with her. She smacked a brunette in a bikini on the butt, making all the men laugh harder.

  Saransk was surrounded by a group of men, all of whom seemed serious. I didn’t recognize them but Jack chanted names into my earpiece, “Rollins, Bernanke, Swarofka, Gunner, Pheitzer, Mormont, and Jenkyl. Huge players and four of them are on the list for the Organization. This is huge.”

  “Does that change things?” I asked without moving my lips.

  “Maybe. Do we want to kill that many from the Organization the same week the invitations went out for the ball?” Jack asked.

  “I don't know. Fuck. We really can’t blow the Organization op. Should we ask Coop what he thinks?” Again, I spoke in a way that made me appear to be smiling and not speaking.

  “Yes,” Jack said after a moment of thought. “I’ll call him. He's gonna be pissed you're there and we did this on our own, but we need his advice. Stand by.”

  I drifted over near where Elise sat on the lap of a man I did know. His name was Brutée. Everyone called him the Brute though because of his size. He was a beast. His biceps were the size of Elise’s waist. He rubbed her arm and whispered into her ear.

  She laughed and nodded softly, continuing to play the meek little dancing girl.

  She stood, allowing for him to stand and escort her into the house. She winked at me as she slipped past, seeming to almost float with those tiny steps.

  “Girl!”

  I spun, seeing a man motioning at me. It was Saransk who was with the same crowd of people, but his eyes no longer focused on them. He was supposed to be Elise’s target. Why had she gone off with the Brute if Saransk was her mark?

  “Come here!” he shouted at me again.

  I checked behind me to make certain it was me he motioned at.

  The absence of anyone there suggested he was indeed calling to me.

  Gulping, I forced my feet to take their first steps. I had to continue pushing myself to walk to him until I was right in front of him. I didn't dare meet his gaze.

  “How old are you?” he asked boldly as he handed me a drink from a tray being carried by one of the caterers.

  “Twenty-seven,” I lied and took the drink, tilting back the whole glass of terrible tasting champagne at once. I needed at least one drink to get through the rest of this night.

  “And not a virgin?” He took the glass from me and handed it back to the caterer.

  “No, sir.” My words were soft, my tone sounding terrified. I genuinely was.

  “Good. Let me see you.” He motioned his fingers like he wanted me to spin in a circle.

  I turned slowly, unable to complete the full turn when his arms looped into mine and wrapped around my waist. He hauled me to the house.

  “You look familiar, have we met before?” he asked as he pulled me into the doorway, hurrying down the hall to the right.

  “No, sir.” My stomach tensed as I realized he was taking me to the office. But he didn't. I nearly sighed in relief as we cruised past the door I’d closed on the dead men. He led me to another door. He opened it with a key and pushed me in, closing it behind him.

  The lights were off and the slightest glow coming from outside lit up the room enough to tell it was an entertainment room. The billiards table made my jaw drop.

  I nearly groaned, anticipating how this was going to go.

  Did I kill him now, here in the dark in a room with cameras, proving the dancing girls Servario had recommended were assassins? Or did I let him have his way with me, forcing me into a variety of uncomfortable moments?

  Neither answer was favorable.

  If he died this early in the night, people would notice. We would essentially have to slaughter the entire household, ensuring there were no witnesses. But Jack would need to find out where the data from the cameras and security was going first.

  “You’re very beautiful as an Indian girl.”

  I blinked as I contemplated those words but the room spun. Something was in the drink. He poisoned me?

  “What?” I asked.

  “Evie, you think I wouldn't recognize you? Your picture is in my main office upstairs, blown up with darts poking you here”—he touched my cheek softly—“and here.” He touched my forehead. “And now my own dart is going to poke you here.” He brushed a thumb across my lips.

  “What are you talking about?” I whispered, swaying as the drugs hit.

  “Evie Evans. I knew your husband well. And his mother too. But more importantly, I know you.” He chuckled, pulling me into his firm chest and squishing me.

  Where the hell was Jack?

  He’d left me to phone Coop and said he would get back to me, but he hadn’t come back. And now I needed him. I needed Servario. I needed my head to stop spinning.

  “You’re much older than the last time I saw you, though you likely do not recall it. I saw you but you didn't see me. Of course we knew who all you CIA agents were.” His English was perfect. He hardly had a Russian accent. I had heard he didn't speak English well at all. “Did you really believe Elise would betray me like that?” He laughed, backing up quickly. I didn't see the arm moving, but I felt the bite of the backhand as he made contact with my cheek and sent me sprawling across the room. I staggered into the billiards table and gasped for my breath, wincing at the sting in my cheek.

  My heart raced as a thousand thoughts filtered through my mind. I clumsily reached for my hairpin, but his hand beat me there. “The famous hairpins, Elise told me about. I don't think so.” He grabbed my hand and pressed his body against the back of mine, whispering in my ear as he pulled the hairpin out with his other hand and held my hand flat on the pool table, “This”—he shouted as he moved quickly, driving the pin through my hand and breaking it on the table—“is for my daughter!”

  I screamed but his hand slipped over my trembling lips as he continued, “You dare to come here, thinking you Americans can outsmart us. You lazy bitches have done nothing but shop and eat and drink and practice your sad little yoga and spin classes.” He had the slightest accent now, filled with emotion. “We Russians have been working. We have become better fighters, ready for you. We never gave up the dream of destroying you.” He kissed the side of my face, licking tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed.

  “Please, don't do this,” I whimpered, begging for my life as I tried to come up with a plan, but my brain was so foggy and my legs were close to buckling.

  “Evie!” Jack shouted in my ear as Saransk reached in and pulled
the earpiece out. He crushed it. I didn't see in the dark, but I heard the plastic snapping.

  “I’d hate for us to be interrupted,” he cooed, pressing himself against me. He dragged a hand down my arm to the pin and yanked it out, making me scream again. “I do like the sound of your screams, Evie.” He grabbed the wounded hand and pulled me from the table, hitting me once more with a surprising backhand. I stumbled back as a third blow took me by surprise. I tried to block it, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me to him, pulling me in tightly and spinning me so I faced away from him. I shrieked when he drove my injured arm up my back. He walked us, steering me with the bent arm.

  I didn't fight back. I couldn't. I could barely walk.

  My life flashed before my eyes, slow and hazy and stuck in whatever drugs he had given me. Mitch. Jules. I needed to fight back. I needed to get home for them.

  The room we entered was dark and he had home advantage. He knew the place we were too well. The sound of a glass door opening echoed around me. Metal slapped against my wrist and clicking filled the air, vibrating against me. A handcuff. Roughly his fingers bit into my skin as he dragged and ripped until I was naked.

  A second cuff clinked against my ankle.

  The lights flicked on.

  I was in a shower, handcuffed to the tiles by small chains he had to have installed custom. I’d never seen their twin in America. Maybe it was Russian decorating.

  “Nice bathroom,” I slurred and attempted to scan the large room as it blurred in and out of focus.

  “I don't like this disguise. I want to see what I won.” He turned on the shower and stepped back as hot water sprayed me. I started to scream as the water seared my skin. It wasn't boiling, but it was certainly not the regulatory temperature parents knew a house needed to have to avoid injury.

  I struggled to get out of the spray but slipped and ended up falling, saved from landing by the wrist cuff which cut into my skin and jerked me.