Submerged (Bound Together #1)

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Submerged (Bound Together #1) Page 18

by Lacey Black


  Before I left the apartment and Georgia arrived to watch Nat, my lips kept seeking out Carly’s. I kissed her hard, slow, and everywhere in between. Carly is the lifeline I’m hanging onto tonight when this shit goes down. One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was walk out that door. As if she could sense that everything was about to change, Carly hugged me tighter than ever, before sending me off with a promise to see me soon.

  Now, I’m trying to just get through this damn day. Gage must not realize that I’m on edge because he’s doing everything in his power to piss me the hell off. Every smug smile he throws my way just seems to push me closer to the point where I’m just going to punch him square in the face. For no good reason.

  Divine saunters out of the office, nails freshly painted candy apple red, and heads towards me. “Hi, Blakey. I’m running to get the guys some lunch. Do you want anything?” she asks, popping her gum and irritating me even more. I have no clue how that’s even possible at this point.

  “Nope. I’m good,” I tell her as I continue working on the intake on this ‘72 Nova. Pop.

  “Are you sure? I’d be more than happy to provide for you,” she coos, leaning over the front end of the classic car, pressing her tits out the top of her low-cut shirt. She’s seriously a fraction of a centimeter away from a major nip-slip. Except, I don’t think hers would be a slip. Pop.

  “I’m sure. I don’t need anything,” I say firmly as I continue to tinker with the engine. Ignoring her presence is difficult when all I can think about is that damn gum smacking. Pop.

  Next thing I know, a hand with long, sharp fingernails is grabbing my dick through my jeans. “What the fuck,” I thunder, dropping my wrench with a clatter.

  “I’d love to,” she coos, running those long nails down my chest. “We can sneak back in the storage room for a few minutes, and -” she starts, but I cut her off.

  “Absolutely not,” I say, stepping back and out of her reach. I continue moving until we’re several feet apart, yet that doesn’t stop her from advancing on me.

  “Baby, I can make you feel so good,” she whispers when she’s close enough again to touch me.

  I stop dead in my tracks. This is going to end. Now. “Listen, Divine. This shit’s gonna fucking stop. I have a girlfriend. I have no desire to cheat on her with you or with any other cheap shop skank,” I seethe, not caring if I’ve hurt her feelings at all. “If you touch me or my junk one more time, I’m throwing your ass out on your knock-off designer shoes. I’m. Not. Interested.” Grabbing the red shop rag on the bench next to me, I turn and give Divine my back. I’m so fucking done with this conversation.

  “Dude, you just sent away easy pussy,” Gage says with a chuckle next to me. I snap.

  “Listen to me, Gage,” I start as I grab him by the front of his work shirt. “I don’t want anything to do with that girl or this shit. I’m done. So fucking done with all of it,” I say, pushing him away. My resolve and my patience are gone. So far gone, they’re practically in the next state.

  “What the fuck is your problem, dude? You need to chill out. I don’t know what the hell has crawled up your ass lately, but we’re all getting pretty sick of it,” he says, straightening up the front of his shirt.

  I turn and leave him standing in the middle of the shop, the other guys all quietly watching. Heading out the back door, I find solace in the cool, abandoned alleyway. I wish I fucking smoked. I could definitely use a cigarette right now.

  This entire job has me completely on edge. Knowing that it’s about to all end in a matter of hours has me wound so tight, I don’t know which way is up anymore. Gage may not be my favorite person, but I didn’t need to flip my shit on him like that. Divine? Well, she had that coming. The thought of her long talons anywhere near my dick gives me the heebie-jeebies. I feel like I need a shot of Penicillin just from breathing the same air as her. Fucking woman.

  After taking a short break to calm down my anxiety, I head back inside. I have the entire afternoon to get through before I have to report to the facility.

  Then, shit gets real.

  * * *

  I arrive at the facility at six. There are already a handful of cars in the lot, most of which I recognize. Before I head inside, I send my brother a quick text. One word.

  Me: Ready.

  His single word reply comes moments later.

  Luke: Ready.

  I slip my phone back into my pocket, making sure it’s powered on and the recording device engaged before I grab my handgun from the glove compartment. This shit is going down tonight and I’ll be damned if I’m not packing. Once I make sure I’m loaded with one in the chamber and the safety on, I head inside.

  Styx and the two guys that are always with Mattias are sitting in the office. Mattias is on his phone on the far side of the empty space, talking in Spanish to the person on the other end. I head over to the seating area and fall into a chair. I have my bad ass “I don’t give a shit” face on, ever playing the part.

  “You ready?” Styx asks while taking a long drag from his cigarette. His gaze is locked on mine as if he’s trying to get a read on me. But, I’m ready for him. I’m better. He has no clue who I am and what I’m capable of doing. He has no clue everything is about to unravel right before his eyes. I will show him tonight.

  “Yep,” I reply, taking a pull from the bottle of Jack sitting on the table. I want to drink just enough to let them know I’m part of the team, but not enough to impair my judgment. My plan is to take a few drinks now, eat a little food when it arrives, and then make sure I’m sober and ready for the battle that’s ahead.

  Styx doesn’t speak anymore, but continues to watch me as he takes each drag from his cigarette. A lesser man would be crying for his mama. But I’ve got his number. He’s tough, sure, but he’s also cocky. His cockiness is going to be his downfall.

  The door opens a few moments later and Gage enters carrying four pizza boxes. It sucks to be the low man on the totem pole. You’re expected to bring food before each heist. It wasn’t that long ago that I was the man bringing pizza and bags of greasy food out here.

  Gage sets the boxes on the table in front of me, but doesn’t look over. Apparently, he’s still pissed. Fine by me. Maybe now he’ll leave me the hell alone. Everyone dives into the pizzas as Mattias gets off the phone. He joins us, grabbing a loaded slice before taking the seat next to me.

  “Fernando and his men will be here shortly. Before they get here, I need to tell you all to be ready for the unexpected. I don’t know why, but tonight feels off. I’m hoping it’s just because we’ll have outside help where we don’t need it. I tried to leave them out of this job, but Fernando wouldn’t hear of it. This is the biggest job we’ve run in a very long time with big, powerful buyers lined up. We can’t fuck this up,” he says before taking a bite.

  The door opens moments later and in walks Roman. He has never been here for a job in the year I’ve been working the facility. That’s how I know it’s the big one: the boss is here. He walks over, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza, and takes a seat at the desk that is rarely used. Everyone is quiet now that Roman is in the building.

  After I force myself to eat a second slice of mushroom pizza, Gage turns his beady little eyes on me. “So what’s this I hear about a girlfriend? How come you’ve never mentioned her before?” he asks. The scene plays out before me. I imagine myself getting up, walking over to him and beating him within an inch of his life just for bringing her up. God, I’m so wired. It feels like I’ve drunk a dozen shots of espresso.

  “Just a girl I’ve been seeing,” I answer nonchalantly. Inside my mind, I continue his ass whoopin’.

  “Huh,” he mumbles, taking another bite. I feel Styx’s eyes on me, but I restrain from looking over at him. “Sure seemed like a big deal, man. I mean, you were ready to claw Divine’s eyes out when she touched you.”

  “Because I don’t want her touching me,” I answer, seemingly unfazed. Inside, I’m as tense as a caged bear. />
  “She was so upset after she went in the office, she sucked dick like she hadn’t eaten in a week and my cock was a fucking burrito.” His manic laugh fills the entire room, followed by a few chuckles from the guys around us. I internally roll my eyes.

  Feeling eyes on me, I glance over and see Roman watching me. The way he studies me leaves me slightly on edge. It was one thing when Styx was studying me, but Roman is a whole different kettle of fish. I wonder if he knows who my girlfriend is. It’s likely that he does, honestly. Not much gets by him.

  At seven o’clock, Fernando and the men we met the other night enter, wearing all black. They definitely play the part of car thieves, carrying bags of tools and fancy gadgets. Basically the same things our crew carries, but with different weapons. Their guns are in plain sight, strapped to their hips like the damn mafia. I note every weapon caliber visible, making a mental list of the heat packed in this room.

  Midnight hits, and it’s finally go time. I stand aside as our men, along with Fernando’s, head out to start the job. I don’t know exactly when the Agency is going to strike, but I know it’ll be when we least expect it. They’ll be watching, waiting and biding their time, until all of the big fish are in one location. And that location is right here.

  The first car rolls in at twelve twenty-four. I begin working the electronic system to remove the VIN number, replacing it with a new one from our contact with the State. As the cars come in, I remove the personal possessions from inside and any other identifying markers for the car. Lambo, Porsche, Audi, Aston Martin, rare classic muscles cars, hell, even a Bugatti–they’re all here. The bounty on this load is more than I can even process, and this is just from Vegas. I can’t imagine if business was set up in Los Angeles or New York City. Think of all that money.

  At two-thirty, the last of the nine cars makes its way into the facility. I’m anxious as I start the process on this car that I’ve completed to eight previous ones. Just as I get underneath the car to remove a few identifying numbers, the large roll-up door on the front of the building blows in. The noise is deafening as men start to scatter like roaches. Men in full tactical gear swarm the building, guns drawn and pointed straight at us. It only takes one shot. One man to pull his weapon and fire before bullets begin to rain down on us.

  I pull my handgun and hold my position from a squat next to the car I was stripping. Bodies are running and moving everywhere and I can no longer tell who’s friendly and who isn’t. My best bet is to hold my position until they come for me. When a man in black tactical points his automatic rifle at me, I drop my weapon, and get down on my knees as directed. I won’t fight them on this. They know there’s an undercover operative on location, but I’ll let them sort it out after they get everyone rounded up and accounted for.

  After my co-worker cuffs me, he leads me to the side where a few others are gathered, all cuffed and cursing. Roman and Mattias are both still face down on the concrete with their hands placed behind their heads. Fernando is being escorted towards us in cuffs by a man who resembles the build of my brother. With the black mask, I can’t be sure it’s him, but his mannerisms and the way he walks just scream Luke. Fernando spews Italian, and I’m sure every other word is a curse word.

  After Roman, Mattias, and everyone else is cuffed, we’re walked out through the decimated door and ushered like cattle towards waiting black vans. Before I’m slipped inside, I find a pair of green eyes trained on me, watching my progression. He gives me a slight nod before turning and counting the men. If the way he relaxes is any indication, it appears all of our men are accounted for and uninjured.

  “How many in each van?” Luke asks the group of agents next to the van.

  “Four in each van, sir. Eight total,” one answers.

  “Eight? Where is the ninth?” Luke asks, turning and counting the men in handcuffs.

  “We only found eight, sir,” the other agent says.

  Luke turns and looks at me. For only a second, we share a knowing look. As I search the faces of the men being loaded into the two awaiting vans, I realize instantly who’s missing. We’ve only rounded up eight men, including me. I turn to look at my brother and do my best to relay to him that we have a problem. A big fucking problem.

  Styx isn’t here.

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Uneasy

  Feelings

  Carly

  “Yes?” I say, pushing the intercom next to my front door.

  “Let me in, bitch.” Tara’s reply echoes off the walls in my foyer. I’m thankful that Natalia isn’t quite old enough to pay attention to her honorary aunt’s potty mouth. Without giving a reply, I push the button to unlock the front door.

  A couple of minutes later, a fast knock to the beat of “shave and a haircut” reverberates through the kitchen. “Pizza delivery,” she yells through the door. My smile is full-wattage as I throw open the door for my best friend.

  “Special delivery for one Miss Carly Mathewson and little Miss Natalia Mathewson,” she says as she breezes into the room, a fragrant cloud of pizza and perfume following in her wake.

  “Why thank you, Miss Hunter. To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?” I ask, pulling a couple of plates out of the cabinet. While Tara prepares the pizza on the kitchen table, I grab Natalia from her toys in the living room.

  “Do I need a reason to visit my very best friend and my niece?” she asks, flipping her short blond hair over her shoulder dramatically.

  “Of course not,” I tell her as I cut up a slice of cheese pizza for Natalia, who immediately begins to smear sauce all over her face.

  “Where’s Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous tonight?” she asks before taking a bite of her own slice.

  “Working. He sent me a text message just a bit ago, but he says he’ll be busy most of the night so he’s just going to crash at his place,” I tell her, dejected. I don’t want to admit it but having Blake in my bed every night has become as necessary as breathing. Those nights he works late and stays at his own place are the longest and loneliest nights ever. They remind me of all the nights without him over the last two years.

  “Have you told him yet?” she asks with the hint of a smile.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh come on, Carly. You’re not dense. Have you told him that you love him?” she asks, raising that perfectly manicured eyebrow up towards her hairline.

  I squirm a little in the wooden chair and help Natalia eat a little piece of her smashed pizza. Anything to take the weight of her words off my chest. But the longer I remain silent, the longer she continues to stare at me, waiting me out. “No,” I finally confirm.

  “Carly, what the hell?” she asks, opening her mouth as she gets ready to say something else.

  “Tara, it’s not that simple,” I start, cutting off her next statement.

  “And why the hell not? You’ve pined after this man for what, two years? If you want something, Carly, take it. Don’t be a wienie.”

  “Did you just call me a wienie?” I ask through sudden laughter.

  “Yes. You’re being a wienie. Don’t let him slip through your fingers, Carly. You two found each other again. I know it’s scary, but you have to trust him. You trust him with your daughter, now trust him with your heart.”

  Tara’s words bounce around in my head throughout the rest of the meal, while I get Natalia ready for bed, and while I pretend to sleep. Sleep doesn’t come easy, that’s for sure. My mind is racing and my heart is thumping, all while I try to decide if I can trust Blake with my heart.

  The thing is: he already owns it.

  * * *

  I startle awake out of a dead sleep. It couldn’t have been that long ago since I finally allowed exhaustion to pull me into the deep slumber. The clock on my nightstand reads four-fifteen. After trying to find a comfortable position again and being unsuccessful, I grab the cell phone sitting next to my alarm clock.

  Instantly, I find a text message sent at two a.m. What was he still doing up at two? />
  Blake: Thinking of you and missing you.

  It might sound completely cliché, but I don’t care. Like a schoolgirl in love for the first time, I take my pointer finger and gently slide it over the screen, as if by touching his words, I could somehow touch him. I know it’s not going to happen, but I can’t help but reach for this little sliver of a connection.

  As I continue to stare at his words, uneasiness sweeps through me. I don’t describe why or how, but something dark and troubling grabs a hold of me and won’t let go. I quickly throw my blankets off and slip quietly, yet quickly, into Natalia’s bedroom. She’s snuggled into her crib, her head resting against her crib sheet. I pull the blanket up and tuck it securely around her small body. Placing my hand on top of her sleeping head, the unnerving feeling inside of me doesn’t recede.

  Giving her room a quick check, which includes searching her closet–for what? I don’t know–I realize I might be acting a little crazy. That still doesn’t stop me from slipping into the kitchen and making sure that the front door is securely latched. After confirming that both the lock and deadbolt are both fastened firmly, I pace the living room, stopping to look out the large window. The curtains are drawn, but I still check the street and the shadows for movement.

  Deciding I’m not quite ready to head back to bed, I sit on the couch, pulling my knees securely under my chin. Whatever this weird feeling is, it won’t go away. Something happened tonight, but I have no clue what. My stomach churns and my heart races as I try to understand whatever it is my mind is trying to tell me.

  After thirty minutes, I still have no clue what is going on or what to do. Blake is surely sleeping by now, and I don’t want to be that needy female that calls at all hours of the night. Yet something pulls me from deep down. I yearn to hear his voice just to know that he’s okay.

  Settling back into bed, I reach for my phone. I touch those words a few more times before typing out a quick reply. I won’t give in to my urge to call him, but I pray that saying what’s on my mind will ease the tightness in my chest. When I set the phone back down on my nightstand, I try to settle in to a comfortable position. It takes me longer than I would have liked, but eventually, I drift off into a fitful sleep.

 

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