Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2)

by Stylo Fantome

  She was surprised, and of course she was touched. But she was also a little annoyed. Back in Africa, Marc had started talking to her the same way, right before he'd ditched her ass. What did she have to do to prove to these men that she didn't need them to be her guardian angels!?

  “Hey!” she snapped, getting to her feet and forcing him to stop in front of the door. “Nothing is going to happen to me, you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself. And even if something does happen, you'll do exactly what you've done in the past. You'll finish the job and you'll move on. Just like always. Nothing has changed.”

  “Are you joking!? Nothing has changed? Darling, I hate to be the one to point this out, but everything has changed. Do you see any other people hanging around me for six straight months? Any tales of partners from the past? And yes, you may be capable of taking care of yourself, but we're friends, Lily, and friends take care of each other.”

  Aw, who knew Kingsley was such a big softie?

  “That's means a lot, it really does, but I can promise you that if it had been you who got hit back there, I wouldn't be freaking out right now. I would bandage you up, tell you to nut the fuck up, and I would continue with the mission. I just want the same treatment,” she told him.

  “This discussion is closed. De Sant leaves tomorrow, we continue on with the mission alone,” Kingsley stated, his voice hard. Lily was shocked.

  “What did you just say!?”

  “You heard what I said. It wasn't a discussion. We move out at six.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Don't talk to me like that. I am not your employee, or your sidekick. This isn't a dictatorship, so you can't tell me what to do,” she snapped back at him.

  “You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me, so I think I bloody well can,” he growled.

  That hurt. Kingsley had never been mean, just to be mean. He was a jovial person by nature. Things rolled off him easily and quickly, and he rarely took anything too seriously. Except his job. And now, it would seem, her.

  “Well, you bloody well thought wrong! And if that's how you really feel, then you can just fuck right off and go back -”

  Lily let out a shriek as he swung her around, roughly slamming her up against the door. His forearm came down across her clavicle, pinning her in place. She glared up at him, but held still. He obviously had more he wanted to say, and though her first instinct was to plant her knee in his groin, she didn't want to provoke him into a real fight. Even angry to the point of being stupid, Kingsley would still win.

  “Let's cut the shit, Lily. Why are you fighting me on this? It's not because you think I'm being unfair. It's because of him,” he hissed.

  Ah. It all comes back to Marc.

  “Don't deflect, Law. You're the one with the problem here,” she told him, trying to push him away. He didn't budge.

  “Six months,” he started. His voice was low, but a lot of the anger was gone. “We have spent almost every day together for six months. He lied to you, he left you, he wouldn't be here if it weren't for some deal you made, and he almost got you killed, and yet … you still choose him.”

  When Lily had first joined up with Kingsley, she had expected him to say something like that; it had been so long that she'd actually begun to believe that he was above that kind of behavior. Wrong. She wanted to get mad at him, to get upset that his feelings were ruining a beautiful friendship and an even better partnership. But she couldn't even do that; all she could do was stare up at him and frown. It was a serious moment, between friends. Two people who had been through hard times. A woman who was very lost, and a man who had been lost for a lot longer.

  When he leaned in and kissed her, Lily wasn't entirely surprised. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and went with it. It was cliché, but she felt like she was being ripped in two. Six months apart, and she still felt bound to Marc. Chained to him. But she owed so much to the man in front of her. If Kingsley needed this from her, then maybe she should give it to him.

  He moved, pressing his hands flat against the door, boxing her in before he leaned all his weight against her. Then his lips wandered down the side of her jaw, working their way to her neck. She flattened herself and tensed up, her stomach clenching with anxiety. Despite all the time they'd spent together, he still felt so foreign to her.

  So unwelcome.

  “Law, this is a bad -”

  He wasn't messing around with the next kiss. His tongue filled her mouth, shocking her, all while his hands went into her hair, holding her to him. He swung them around, moving her to a bed. Her legs hit the mattress and she fell backwards. He fell with her, landing on top of her.

  “Please be quiet. It's been a shitty day,” he begged, his teeth scraping her bottom lip. One of his hands moved over her body, pressing down heavily against her breasts.

  “We can't do this,” she whispered, getting a hold of his grabby hand.

  “I could make you forget all the bad that's happened,” he whispered back. She laughed.

  “I'm sure you could, but I'm not willing to find out. We're friends. Don't ruin that, Law. Get off me,” she instructed. He ignored her and just pressed himself down harder.

  It was an unbearable feeling. Wanting to give him what he needed, but knowing it was wrong. That she was wrong for him, that they were wrong. She felt awful. Marc had broken her apart. Kingsley had built her back up.

  You were alone in the beginning. You'll be alone in the end. You technically don't need either of them, so stop feeling like you owe something to everyone.

  “Get off of me,” she stated in a loud voice.

  “Darling, just give me a moment, and you'll understand what it is you've been missing out on.”

  “Now,” her voice got louder and she shoved at his shoulders. His tongue traced its way down her cleavage.

  “Stop talking, please.”

  Enough was enough. Keeping her hand completely flat, she slammed it into the side of his neck. He let out a shout, and she used his surprise against him, digging her knee into his hip and forcing him to roll off her and onto the floor.

  “I told you to stop,” she snapped, scooting to the edge of the bed. Kingsley was slowly making his way to his knees, rubbing at where she'd hit him.

  “I should have listened,” he grumbled.

  “No shit. We've been at this for six months now, Law. Don't fuck it up at the touchdown line,” she informed him. He groaned and climbed to his feet.

  “You Americans and your sports references. You sound incredibly stupid when you say shit like that,” he told her. She thwacked him in the Adam's apple, making him gag.

  “Watch your mouth. Don't get attitudey with me just because I wouldn't let you fuck me,” she called him out.

  “Do you really think that's what this is about!? Me just trying to fuck you?” he asked, staring down at her.

  “That's how you operate, right? Shitty day, better fuck somebody. Angry at Marc, why not fuck someone he's fucked. Upset over me, so why not fuck me. You don't care about me, Kingsley. You're using me. You just care about making yourself feel better. I'm your scapegoat. Your charity case, so when you're feeling bad about what a bad guy you are, you can look at me and feel better.”

  She wasn't sure where it had all come from, but she hadn't been able to stop once she'd started. She was just so tired of these men trying to turn her into their idea of who she should be; they couldn't just take her as she was. Her words were mean, and she regretted them instantly, but she didn't say anything. Just glared at Kingsley while he stared at her for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat.

  “I see. That's what you really think of me.”

  His voice was soft, and it felt like a piece of her heart broke off.

  “Kingsley, I -”

  “Cheers, darling,” he gave her a nod, then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Lily screamed and swung around, knocking a lamp off a nightstand. It hit the ground with a crash, but sh
e was still pissed. Pissed off at Kingsley, for ruining a good thing. Pissed off at Marc, for coming between her and Kingsley. But most of all, pissed off at herself. For being a callous bitch. For not being able to care about Kingsley the way he seemed to care about her. And especially for not being able to let go of her feelings for Marc.

  Goddamn Marcelle De Sant. Ruins shit when he's not even in the fucking room!

  She leapt to her feet and went into a frenzy. She yanked open Kingsley's rucksack and dug out his shave kit. Once she had it, she knelt in front of the dresser and pulled out her knife, carefully removing most of the stitching around the bottom of the leather bag. It was a false bottom, almost an inch and a half of extra space. In that space, there had originally been batting, giving the bag a cushiony bottom for its contents to rest on. Months ago, in the dead of the night, she had removed all of it, and replaced it with something. At first glance, it just looked like a bunch of tissue paper. But as she unwadded the paper, diamonds came into view. A whole lot of loose stones.

  There were several items Kingsley was never without. First and foremost, his big gun, Sheila. Also, his custom made suit that had been personally designed by Georgio Armani. And his shave kit, which carried all of the toiletries he needed to look immaculate. She didn't trust herself with the stones, but she didn't want Kingsley to know she had them. So she split the difference and used him to hide them, without him even knowing it.

  She got the canvas bundle from her backpack and unrolled it, adding the other diamonds to it and then hastily folding it back up. Next she grabbed her Glock, checked that it was loaded, and tucked it into the back of her jeans. Then she grabbed the canvas bundle and rushed out the door, barely managing to shut it behind her.

  She marched straight down to Marc's door and banged on it. He didn't answer at first, and she wondered if he'd dipped out on them. He'd been so quiet, so morose. So unlike himself.

  Except, you don't know that, because you don't really know him. Keep reminding yourself of that.

  He wasn't gone, though. After she'd banged and kicked on the door for a solid thirty seconds, it finally opened. He was back in the sweatpants, and wasn't wearing a shirt. He had a bandage wrapped around his hand, and she tried to remember if he'd gotten hurt in their little scuffle with Damiano's men.

  “Jesus, is there a fire?” he growled. She glared and pushed past him.

  “You need to tell me what you know,” she said, walking to the other side of his room, keeping distance between them.

  “About what?” he asked, shutting the door. She turned back towards him. There was a light on over the mirror in his bathroom. It bled into the main room, turning everything around her a pale blue, but casting the rest of the room into shadows. He hadn't turned on any other lights.

  “About Stankovski,” she said, taking a deep breath. Preparing herself for the fight that was coming.

  “Look, Lily, I'm really sorry about what happened back there. I was stepping into that courtyard, and I saw the guy with the shotgun, and I saw you, and I panicked. I should've just shot him. Any other time, and I would have. I don't know what -” he began explaining, but she held up her hand.

  “I don't care,” she stated.

  “Huh?”

  “I don't care,” she repeated herself. “I just want my information. I want to know where Stankovski is. Let's just end this now.”

  “I care. I thought you were dead, I -” he kept going.

  She felt like pulling her hair out. Her brain was waging a war with her heart, and the whole mess was driving her insane.

  “You don't care!” she shouted.

  “I care too much.”

  “You don't. I could've died a dozen different times in the last six months. More. And you wouldn't have known it. You would have never known it. So let's cut the bullshit, De Sant. Tell me what I want to know about Stankovski, tell me where he is, where he's going to be,” she demanded. He looked a little surprised at her outburst, and then a lot angry.

  “The fuck I don't care! You think I stormed that building in Africa for my health!? I did it to save you. Same reason why I left you. Do you think that was easy for me!?” he yelled back.

  Don't do this. Don't listen to this. The only reason he's here is because of those stupid diamonds – the real reason he saved you in Africa.

  “I don't really care. Here. Here's your goddamn payment,” she snarled, holding out the canvas bag. He didn't move.

  “This isn't about that, and you know it,” he said in a low voice.

  “All I know is that everything has been about this. Take them,” she insisted, taking a step closer to him.

  “I don't want them.”

  “All you ever wanted was them!” she yelled again. “So take your goddamn payout, and give me what you owe me!”

  She chucked the bag at him, but he made no move to catch it. It slammed into his chest and bounced off, hitting the floor hard. It slid to the edge of the room, the top portion opening up and spilling a handful of stones across the floor. He didn't even look at them.

  “Lily, I don't want the diamonds,” he said. She threw her hands up.

  “Jesus, De Sant, then what do you want!?”

  “I want you to call me Marc.”

  Her brain splintered a little. During their time apart, she'd worked very hard at pretending like she didn't care about him anymore. She called Kingsley “Law” in order to maintain a professional relationship with him. She called Marc “De Sant” to separate the man she'd fallen for in Africa from the man who'd left her in Africa. The guy standing in front of her had no right to bring him up and shove him in her face. She whipped the gun out from behind her back and pointed it straight at his throat.

  “You left me!” she shouted at him. “I trusted you and you left me! I believed in you, but you never believed in me. You left me in some country I'd never heard of, with nothing. You just left me.”

  There was a tense silence. Marc stared at her, completely calm. Lily was breathing heavy, almost shaking with anger, but the hand holding the gun was steady.

  She should have been yelling at him for risking her life, for getting her shot. For stringing her along by witholding information. For being a liar, and a manipulator, and an all around bad guy. The worst guy.

  But all that was going through her head were the words from his letter, telling her to go home.

  How could I have gone home? Home had become wherever he was.

  “Sweetheart,” he sighed, and it hurt her heart. “You know I only did that because -”

  She reached forward and racked the slide. Suddenly, it was serious. Marc shut his mouth.

  “I know what I was told. That I wasn't good enough. Isn't that right? I wasn't good enough for Marcelle De Sant!”

  “You were too good for me, that was the problem.”

  “Shut up, De Sant.”

  “Marc.”

  “Shut up!” she shrieked, taking a step forward. “Give me the information, or I swear to god, I will shoot you!”

  “Go ahead. I probably deserve it,” he replied, a small smile playing on the edge of his lips.

  She was close to losing it. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Lily couldn't remember the last time she'd cried from being upset. Africa? Certainly not once since then, and she didn't want Marc to be the one to change that.

  “Do you know what I promised myself? Back in Africa, when you first chained me up?”

  “What?” he asked, taking a small step towards her.

  “I told myself I would kill you. That at the end of our journey, I would shoot you in the head. Put a bullet in your brain, and end my misery,” she whispered.

  “Well, sweetheart. Our journey has definitely come to an end,” he whispered back.

  Don't say that to me. We can't ever be over.

  She gasped and choked on a sob. As a tear ran down her cheek, realization swept through her mind. It had never ended for her. She had lied to herself for the last six months, telling hersel
f that it was over. That it had been a chapter in her life that was long done. But it had all been a lie. It wasn't over. She was still in the middle of it. Somewhere on a road, counting the days. Waiting, for the last six months, for Marc to pick her back up.

  She had a cocked and loaded gun in her hand, but Marc wasn't afraid. She was pretty sure he wasn't afraid of anything. He knocked her arm to the side and charged forward. Lily didn't move, just let him barrel into her, just like he'd done in the past. Just like he always did when she was in his presence. His hands were gripping her head, yanking her close, and she let out another sob. Then his mouth was on hers, curing all her woes. Solving all her problems.

  She dropped the gun as he backed her up against the wall. His hands moved from the side of her head and dove into her hair, pulling at the strands. His whole body pressed against hers, and every nerve ending she had welcomed him home. Couldn't believe that he'd been gone for so long.

  “I'm sorry,” he was whispering as his mouth moved along the side of her jaw. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry.”

  “You left me,” she gasped, dragging her nails across his shoulder blades. “And then you made that stupid deal. I felt like it all meant nothing to you.”

  “Are you kidding? You mean everything, that's why I had to go. Maybe I did it wrong, but that's why. You were too perfect for me,” he said, his breath hot in her ear while his hands pulled at her t-shirt, dragging it up her body.

  “You're so stupid, De Sant. So stupid. I'm not perfect. I've never been perfect,” she told him, then lifted her arms as her shirt was yanked free.

  “You're perfect to me.”

  Better than revenge. Better than diamonds. It was everything she'd ever wanted to hear from him.

  “I worried about you. I thought you'd come back, or at least come see Kingsley. But nothing. Not even rumors about you. I began to think you'd been killed,” she told him. He chuckled, nibbling along her collarbone.

  “Please. You think I'd let myself get killed without finishing a job? Without a kiss goodbye? Goddamn, I missed you, Lily,” he moaned, his mouth trailing down her right breast.

  “Really? Cause I seem to recall you telling me that I didn't have tits anymore,” she reminded him.