Flawed (The Mercenary Series Book 3)

by Marissa Farrar

  Balancing the items, I reached out and pressed the buzzer on the outside of the gates. I stood tall and lifted my chin. The last thing I needed was to look awkward or as though I didn’t belong there. From the top corners of the gates, small round cameras blinked a red light at me, so I knew I could be seen as well as heard.

  A voice came through the intercom. “Yeah?”

  “I’ve got a package for Mr. Guerra.”

  “Leave it out there,” the voice replied. “I’ll come and collect it.”

  I lifted the box. “Sorry, it needs to be signed for. Are you Mr. Guerra?”

  “No, I ain’t. But I can sign it for you.”

  “I need his signature. Is he there?”

  “Nah, he’s out of town for a few days.”

  Damn. That explained why it was so quiet around the property. Where had he gone, and had he taken Nicole with him? If he’d left her alone in the house, now might be a good time to try to reach her.

  I tried again, hoping to get some idea of whether or not Nicole was in the house. “Are you a family member? I could probably leave it with someone with the same name, if they were willing to sign.”

  By the man’s tone, my persistence was starting to aggravate him. “I just told you, no one of that name is here right now. They’ve gone away.”

  “Gosh, darn. I’ll have to take it back to the depot. Any idea when they’ll be back?”

  “I dunno. It’s not my place to ask questions.”

  “Okay, sure. Thanks, anyway.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. I’ll just sign it in their name. No one is going to be any the wiser.”

  “I’ll get in trouble if someone finds out.”

  “So deal with it.”

  Fuck.

  I debated turning tail and running for the truck, but I knew that would look suspicious. But the minute this guy got a look at the package, he’d see that Michael Guerra’s name wasn’t on the parcel at all, and my big deal about him needing to sign for it was a complete fabrication.

  I heard movement on the other side of the gate. Whoever had answered was approaching. I made my decision and dumped the package at the gate, and turned and walked away with long, strong strides. I wasn’t quite running, while not being far from it either.

  The electronic whirring of the gates opening sounded behind me. I needed to get to the corner and into my truck and get the hell away from there.

  “Hey!” The man’s voice shouted after me. There was a pause, as I assumed he’d bent to pick up the package I’d dumped, then a second “Hey, wait! What the hell is this?”

  I couldn’t wait around to explain. The moment I was out of sight, I broke into a run and sprinted to the truck. I threw myself inside the cab, jammed the keys in the ignition, and revved the engine, pulling away from the curb.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror to see a tall, broad shouldered man around my age running down the street after me. His weapon was drawn, but he obviously had enough sense not to start firing at a moving vehicle in the middle of the street.

  With a sigh of relief, I sat back in the seat. It had been close, but I’d achieved what I’d wanted. The property had been so quiet because Mickey Five Fingers wasn’t there, and by the sound of things, neither was Nicole.

  Unease twisted through me.

  So if they weren’t at the house, where the hell were they? Would Vee’s father be obliged to stay close because of the case, or was he free to go where ever the hell he wanted now it had been thrown out of court? I wasn’t sure how these things worked, but I needed to find out.

  It also occurred to me that I’d left Vee alone in a cabin in the woods, assuming she’d be safe because her father was in the city, only now I’d learned he wasn’t. What if he’d been lurking nearby in the Catskill Mountains, waiting for me to leave so he could get Vee on her own?

  Had I made a huge mistake by coming here and leaving her alone?

  I reminded myself that Vee was not an incapable woman. She’d taken me out easily enough. I’d left her armed, and she wasn’t someone to go down without a fight. I didn’t like the idea of her having to fight anyone, though, especially not her father. I also had to wonder if he had Nicole with him. Had he taken her as another way to torture Vee, or had he already killed the younger sister as punishment for going to Tony the Hound? Perhaps the ‘going away’ part of the story was a way of explaining the disappearance of the girl.

  Either way, the result of this was not good news. I wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything I’d come to the city to do. Her father was still alive, and God knew where, and I hadn’t been able to confirm that her sister was safe either.

  Vee needed to know all of this, and it wouldn’t wait the couple of hours’ drive I had to get back to the cabin.

  I reached down to grab the cell phone from the drink holder where I’d left it. Hers was the only number programmed in. I took my eyes off the road for only a second to flick through to it and swipe the call button.

  It went straight through to voicemail.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said. “I’ve tried to check up on your father, but he’s not at the house and neither is Nicole. I don’t want you to panic, but be extra cautious, okay? We don’t know that he’s anywhere nearby, but we don’t know that he’s not, so stay inside and keep the doors locked until I get there. I’m coming as fast as I can.”

  It occurred to me that she needed to walk away from the cabin in order to pick up any cell coverage to even be able to listen to my message. I expelled a breath of air in frustration. Perhaps taking her to such an isolated place hadn’t been such a good idea?

  I should have brought her to the city with me.

  Chapter Nine

  V

  I must have dozed a little on the couch, but I jerked awake at the slightest sound or movement, my fingers instinctively tightening around the butt of my gun, which I held loosely in my lap. Perhaps I had been stupid to get spooked during the night, but I’d have sworn on my life that I’d seen someone standing in the doorway, watching me as I slept. Plus, finding the sliding doors open hadn’t done anything to make me feel any better. I might have… what was it called ... baby brain? But I wasn’t that forgetful, especially not about something like security. Yet, I had been frazzled when I’d made it back to the cabin after meeting the man in the woods, so perhaps I hadn’t shut it properly, and the wind that had come up during the night had blown it ajar.

  Though I didn’t want to leave the cabin again, I needed to walk down the road toward town to get some coverage on my cell phone and check if X had called. I hated the thought that he might have something important to tell me and I’d missed it. It was daylight now, and I had my gun. I needed to remember who I was and stop being such a wimp.

  With my self-talking-to done, I rose from the couch and went back into the bedroom to change. The room looked exactly as I’d left it. I didn’t know why I thought it would have been any different—I’d already established the property was empty except for me—but every cell in my body was on high alert for something bad to happen.

  I pulled on a pair of jeans, knowing I’d probably only have a few more weeks where I’d be able to comfortably do up the button, and tugged a sweatshirt on over the t-shirt I’d been wearing. I shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers, and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail. Wedging the gun into the waistband of my jeans, I covered the butt with the bottom of the sweatshirt. Finally, I grabbed the cell phone and keys and let myself out into the bright morning sunshine.

  Despite the wind during the night, the day was clear, the sun with that clean, fresh look to it, making the orange, reds, and yellows of the fall trees stand out against the bright blue of the sky. My scare during the night felt even more ridiculous now I was out in the beautiful morning. My lungs filled with cold air, and the bleariness from my broken night’s sleep swept away. I detected the faintest hint of smoke on the air, and guessed either someone had a log burner for heating, or else some early morning gardener had a b
onfire burning.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, my feet crunching the leaves against the road. A narrow lane led from the small clearing beside the lake, where the cabins had all been built, onto the main road. It only took me five minutes to walk up it and step out onto the road. There was no sidewalk—the asphalt giving way to the forest floor on either side—so I walked close to the verge, mindful of any oncoming traffic that might not be expecting to see a woman walking out in the middle of nowhere. The road was quiet. A car hadn’t passed in either direction yet.

  My fingers wrapped around the slim metal of my phone, and I pulled it out of my pocket to check the screen. The bars showing cell coverage remained non-existent, so I kept walking, my eyes glued to the phone.

  A single bar of reception finally popped up, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Immediately, the phone began to buzz with alerts. I had a couple of missed calls, and a voicemail message.

  The missed calls were from X, as was the voicemail. My heart picked up pace, fluttering in my chest, and my stomach coiled with nerves. Was I about to learn that my father was finally dead? I prayed he would have good news.

  I dialed the number for voicemail and pressed the phone to my ear. He spoke and my heart clenched. It felt good to hear his voice, and I pressed the handset closer. But, from the moment he started talking, I knew it wasn’t good news.

  I listened in full, and then replayed the message to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.

  Neither my father nor sister was at the New York house.

  So where the hell were they?

  Sickening dread settled in my stomach and fresh concern for Nicole filled me. Had he done something to her, and then run off to hide the evidence? No, that didn’t sound like something my father would do. He wasn’t afraid of people knowing he’d harm those who betrayed him—even his own family. Hiding away wasn’t his style at all.

  Could he have come looking for me?

  Again, I remembered how it had felt to wake up with the certain knowledge someone was standing over me, watching me. Had that been him? Wouldn’t I have known it? And if it was him, what had he done with my sister? I couldn’t ignore the disappointment I felt at X coming back having achieved nothing except increasing my worries for my sister. I’d allowed myself the tiniest thread of hope that all of this would be dealt with, but of course that wasn’t going to happen.

  At least in the message X had said he was on his way back. The voicemail had been left a little under an hour ago, so he would probably be here in the next couple of hours at the most.

  I took solace in the thought of having him back again. What would we do from here? I had hated him being away, but was I going to give up on finding out what had happened to Nicole? I owed it to X to allow us to have some kind of life together, and I couldn’t do that when I was sending him all over the state, trying to track my family down.

  Turning around, I headed back the way I’d come. A couple of cars drove past, perhaps going into town for some morning shopping or on longer journeys. Their passengers paid no attention to me, and I ignored them. I continued to glance at the phone as I walked, just in case X tried to call me again, or send me a message. I could have called him, but I didn’t want to risk causing an accident if he was driving. He’d already told me he was on his way back. I didn’t want him to feel like I was stalking him.

  I reached the cabin, almost disappointed to be stepping out of the sunshine and back into the cool of the inside. It was an unseasonably warm fall day, and despite the bad news from X, I didn’t want to miss it. I decided to make coffee—I was still allowing myself one cup a day—and some breakfast, and then take it out to the deck. I could sit and look out across the lake, and eat breakfast while I waited for X to return.

  I entered the living area and froze, the blood in my veins turning to ice.

  The sliding doors were open again.

  Immediately, I reached into the back of my jeans and pulled the gun.

  Part of me wanted to turn and run, while the other logical part of me said that X might just have made it home before me. Just because he’d said he was on his way, didn’t mean he’d left the voicemail the moment he’d left the city. He might have already driven an hour before calling me, and so he could have made it home by now. Or perhaps the time of the voicemail had been wrong?

  I listened hard for any sounds coming within the building, anything that might alert me to the presence of another person. I hadn’t been quiet when I’d come through the door, swinging it open, and throwing the keys onto the console with a loud jingle. Whoever was here also knew I was home. If it was X, he’d have at least called out to me.

  Perhaps the sliding doors are just broken?

  No, impossible. I’d made sure they were securely locked before I’d left. Making up reasons would get me killed. I needed to prepare that the next few minutes would involve a fight.

  Where the hell were they?

  The living area was clear, which meant the person must have gone toward the bedrooms and bathroom. I had one idea who that person might be—the same one X had gone all the way to New York to find. Moving as quietly as possible, I walked down the hallway. I stopped. The bedroom door I knew I’d closed the night before now stood ajar.

  The drapes were drawn, blocking out the bright light of the day. I blinked, my eyes still adjusting to the gloom. I pointed the weapon, but I couldn’t see enough to use it.

  A gun jammed in the back of my head, and then two men I’d never seen before stepped out of the darkness.

  I froze. “Who the hell are you?”

  The person behind me grabbed my weapon, dragging it from my fingers. The gun that had been jammed against my skull disappeared.

  I had to see the man standing behind me.

  I spun around, certain I knew who had been stalking me, and preparing myself to face him at last.

  But my eyes didn’t grant me the view I’d been expecting.

  “What the hell!” My mouth dropped. “You’re not my father!”

  “No, sweetheart. I’m not. But if that’s something you have a thing about, I’ll let you call me Daddy, if you want.”

  He was annoyingly attractive—tall, olive skinned, and shiny dark hair. He had one of those mouths that was permanently curved in a knowing smirk, and from the way his gaze dropped down my body and back up again, I could tell he was thinking what I looked like naked.

  “Fuck you.”

  He winked at me. “Now that’s more like it.”

  Two men held guns either side of me, the barrels pointed at my head. The new arrival stepped forward and grabbed my arm, causing a waft of expensive cologne to drift over me.

  I wondered what I could do to get out of this situation. Right now, I didn’t see any other option than going with them and doing whatever the hell it was they wanted. I considered telling them I was pregnant and decided against it. If they wanted a way to hurt or torture me, I’d have put that snippet of information right into their hands. I wanted to hope X would turn up, but I knew hoping such a thing was pointless. I’d be incredibly lucky for him to drive back right at this second.

  “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

  “You’re going to be our little bargaining tool. Your boyfriend owes me, big time.”

  The identities of these men clicked into place. They hadn’t been sent here by my father—in fact, they might not even know who I was.

  “Bianchi, isn’t it? Giovanni Bianchi.”

  That I knew his name took him by surprise. I could see it in the way his eyebrows lifted slightly, in how his shoulders tensed.

  “Yeah.” His eyes narrowed. “So your boyfriend told you about me.”

  “Of course he did. He told me you’re a cop killer, isn’t that right?”

  “You know, the mighty X really isn’t so good at his job.”

  I laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

  “Not when it gets other people killed.”
>
  He jerked his head, releasing me, and the two men with the guns stepped forward, grabbing me by the arms.

  “Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

  “Not too far from here. I want lover boy to come and find you.”

  They dragged me down the hallway and into the kitchen area. Giovanni stopped, apparently looking around for something. He spotted what he wanted and picked up a small pad of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down in it and then tore off the sheet.

  I craned my neck, trying to get an idea of what it said, but he folded it in half and placed it on the kitchen counter. On the outside of the note, he wrote a large X.

  He stopped, frowning down at the note as though he was missing something but wasn’t quite sure what it was.

  “Actually,” he said, wagging a finger in the air, “I think we need to make sure X knows I’m serious.”

  He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a flick knife. He hit the button to reveal the blade, deadly sharp, light glinting off it.

  “What?” Panic soared through me, making my heart race. I yanked on the hold the two men had on me, but the cold circle of the muzzle of one of the guns jammed hard against my temple. I froze. I didn’t think he’d shoot me if he needed me to get something from X, but I had no idea how this man’s mind worked, and I’d rather not end up with my brains splattered all across the kitchen floor.

  “Put her hand on the counter top.”

  The guy on my left grabbed my wrist and tugged it forward. The counter felt cool beneath my palm; the sweat on my skin would leave a ghostly hand print against the surface. They held it firm, so even when I tugged back, my hand didn’t move.

  Giovanni looked at the small blade he was holding, then glanced toward the block of knives on the kitchen counter. “Hmm, I can’t help wondering if this thing is too small to do the job.”