Flawed (The Mercenary Series Book 3)

by Marissa Farrar

  My mind blurred. He wasn’t actually going to do this, was he?

  He fingered each of the blades as though they were a lover’s hair, running his fingers across the cold metal.

  “Ah-ha!” He selected one—not the cleaver, as I’d been terrified he’d go for—but a knife still large, with a slender blade. “This should do nicely.”

  I resorted to final tactics. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m the daughter of Mickey Five Fingers. He’ll kill you if he finds out you’ve hurt me.”

  He waved the blade at me, making his point with each jab. “One. How do you think he’s going to find out? Two. From what I’ve heard, he’d quite like someone to hurt you. And Three… Nope, I don’t have a three, but I think the first two points were good enough.”

  And with that, he lifted the blade and brought it down with an almighty crack on my hand.

  I screamed.

  Pain exploded, driving daggers up through my forearm and into my shoulder. The world grayed at the edges, and I couldn’t put my thoughts together enough to comprehend what had just happened. Blood spattered everywhere, too bright in the tunnel of my vision. Giovanni held the blade of the knife up, admiring the streak of blood across the blade.

  I bit the inside of my lip, trying to stop myself from passing out. Nausea swam through me, followed by a rush of heat. I swayed, but managed to steady myself, despite not being able to grip the counter top with my left hand.

  I forced myself to focus and made myself look, even though every part of me screamed not to. I wanted to put my head in the sand, pass out and pretend I was in a bad dream. But that wasn’t the person I was.

  So I looked.

  At first I couldn’t see past the blood. It was everywhere—across the counter top, splattered on the floor in glistening dark droplets, brighter streaks smeared across my skin. But then I looked again, past the terrifying red, and saw the damage done. Even though it felt like the whole of my hand was aflame, Giovanni had only removed the tip of my pinky finger. Half the nail was missing, and it looked raw and gruesome, but at least I still had my hand and the remainder of my fingers were undamaged. It wasn’t as though my finger would grow back, but it would be okay. I could survive with missing a tip.

  He hadn’t taken my whole hand, which was what I’d feared the most.

  The acknowledgment of this fact made my mind blur again, and my knees buckled. The men caught me, and I didn’t have any strength to fight. Would the baby be okay with this amount of blood loss? There was nothing I could do about it, and it wasn’t as though by telling these men, they’d take me to the hospital. I kept my mouth shut.

  “Here.” Giovanni threw me a dish cloth, and gingerly I used it to wrap up my bleeding hand. It hurt an unbelievable amount, making me grit my teeth, every muscle in my body tensed, fighting the nausea.

  He picked up the piece of my finger he’d chopped off. I fought against another wave of sickness, not wanting to throw up.

  Giovanni dabbed the note in the blood and then set it beside the pool on the counter and placed the piece of finger—my finger—onto the paper. “I think that’ll get X moving quickly. What do you think?”

  “I think you’re a sick son-of-a-bitch.” I wanted to sound fierce, but instead I sounded wobbly and faint.

  He laughed. “I know the world you grew up in, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve seen a lot worse. Bit different when it’s happening to you, though, huh?” He paused then said, “Oh, one more thing.” Reaching into his back pocket, he produced a cell phone which he placed on the counter, just out of reach of the blood.

  He was right. I did know how these things worked. The cell phone would be for Giovanni to contact X on.

  “What happens now?” I managed to say.

  “Now I get you out of here, so we give X a little time to think about what he did, and the repercussions it’s having on his lovely lady friend. Then I hope he’ll come and find you, and bring what I want with him.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Oh, not far.”

  He gave the two men on either side of me a nod, and they dragged me again. My legs were weak beneath me, and I stumbled, but they held me up. The pain from my finger was excruciating, and that, together with the blood loss, was making me dizzy. How could something so small hurt so badly? I couldn’t imagine how it must feel to lose a whole limb—I didn’t want to think about it.

  They pushed me out of the sliding doors and onto the deck beyond. The lake wasn’t far from that. I wondered if they’d walk me around it. Perhaps then I could try to shove one of the men in and make a run for it? My mind whirred, trying to take in every opportunity for escape. But there were three of them, and I was severely outnumbered. How long would it be until X was back? He’d said in his message that he was on his way, and he’d been afraid for me—I’d heard it in his tone. His fear had been misplaced, however. It hadn’t been my father who had wanted to cause me harm this time, but the people who X had been concerned about.

  I wondered if this was the same man who had gone through our motel room. Had he played any part in us being rear-ended and putting me in the hospital?

  “How did you find me?” I asked instead, as I was hustled across the gravel. Instead of heading out toward the lake, we rounded the back of the other cabins, until we reached the final one, where his car was parked, hidden from view from our cabin.

  “I had an idea of where you were going. The two of you aren’t as inconspicuous as you think you are. I didn’t know exactly where you were, and the problem with roads as quiet as they are up here, you can’t tail someone as easily as you can in the city. You can, however, just stroll around asking people if they’ve seen you, and you’d be amazed at just how willing people are to tell you absolutely everything. It’s a bit like they’re starved of talking, so they blurt out everything. This one couple, though, they weren’t so keen to give out information, but the good thing is that I can be very persuasive.”

  “I hope you didn’t hurt anyone else!”

  “I think you need to worry more about yourself more than other people.”

  Funny how X would have said the same thing.

  With no way to escape, I allowed him to bundle me onto the back seat of the car. One of his henchmen sat next to me, the gun still pointed at my head.

  Giovanni drove, while his passenger twisted in the seat, also pointing his gun at me. I didn’t know what they thought I was going to do, especially unarmed and injured. Perhaps my reputation had preceded me. I glanced at the passenger door. It wasn’t locked. When the car got moving, could I yank open the door and throw myself from the car? If I didn’t hurt myself too badly, I could get to my feet and run for the woods. It seemed like a plan, but then I heard the familiar cur-clunk of the central locking, and my heart sank. That option had just been taken off the table.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Giovanni said, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “You’ll see X very soon, and you’d better hope he’s done what I want.”

  Chapter Ten

  X

  I was almost back at the cabin.

  I hadn’t heard from Vee, and I wondered if she’d gotten my message and how she was reacting to it. I hoped she wasn’t taking the news too hard. To say the subject of both her father and sister was a sensitive point would have been a wild understatement. I had no idea what she would want to do now. It occurred to me that we may be spending a large part of her pregnancy on a wild goose chase around the United States, trying to track down her family. That wasn’t how I planned on doing things. While she felt her job was putting a stop to her father and protecting her sister, my job was protecting Vee and the baby. She might be fierce about what she needed to do, but I could be just as stern if I needed to be. I didn’t want for us to fight, but sometimes fighting was needed in order for the right thing to happen.

  Though I wanted to get back to Vee, my stomach growled with hunger. I hadn’t stopped the entire drive back, and the food and coffee at the s
mall service station I’d visited the previous morning was calling to me. The trip there the previous day felt like a lifetime ago. I imagined Vee’s face if I got back with a box of those glazed donuts she now seemed to be addicted to, and coffee for us both, though I’d get her a decaf. She might be pleased enough to see me that she’d wrap those long, slender legs of hers around me and allow me to carry her to bed. I preferred that idea than us having to talk about her father and sister for hours on end.

  That was enough self-persuasion for me, the imagining of the events in my head causing a smile to tug at my lips. Instead of turning into the lane which led to the cabins, I drove past and continued toward the store a mile or so down the main road.

  I pulled the truck into the small parking lot outside and climbed out.

  I stood frowning, my hands on my hips as I gazed at the store.

  Strange. The place appeared to be still locked up. Though still early in the morning, it was way past opening time. They didn’t seem like the type of couple to not open up in the morning. Perhaps one of them had fallen sick? I wasn’t someone to interfere in someone else’s business, but I didn’t like the idea of abandoning them if they needed help. All the way out here, they were well away from town and the nearest doctor or hospital. What would Vee think of me if something bad had happened to one of them, and she found out I’d been here and could have helped, but that I’d walked away without even trying?

  I approached the front door and drew to a halt. The entrance was a glass front, but it was dark inside, especially compared to the bright fall sunlight out here. I cupped my hand to my face and leaned in, pressing my nose against the cool glass. It took a moment for things to take shape—the aisles with groceries lined up on them, the counter at the back. I frowned and squinted. Were those feet?

  From behind the counter, I was sure I could see a couple of feet sticking out. Perhaps I was mistaken and it was a pair of abandoned shoes …

  But no, I could see legs protruding from the footwear and vanishing behind the counter.

  “Ah, fuck.”

  I really didn’t need this right now. I dragged my cell from my pocket. “Damn it.” No coverage. The cell coverage around here was shit. I couldn’t just walk away. I needed to get inside. The poor old guy might have had a heart attack, and be lying there, desperate for help that would save his life.

  Glancing around, I spotted a decent sized rock on the ground a little way off. I could have used the butt of my gun, but I was aware that some awkward questions might arise if I had to call the authorities. I snatched the rock off the ground and went back to the door. I struck it against the glass, once, twice, and on the third time the glass smashed. I reached between the jagged edges and flicked the catch that unlocked the door. It swung open.

  Wasting no more time, I rushed inside. I searched my memory for his name and it came back to me. “Wayne?” I called out. “Hey, are you all right?”

  It was a stupid question. Clearly, he wasn’t all right.

  I rounded the corner of the counter, so I could see more of the store keeper.

  I stopped.

  He wasn’t alone. And he hadn’t had a heart attack.

  Dark blood smeared the old man’s neck. His eyes were open and he stared sightlessly at the ceiling. At his side, curled into him, her head pressed against the side of his barrel chest, was the man’s wife.

  “Ah, hell, no.”

  I remembered how she’d flirted with me the previous morning, a twinkle in her eye before she’d linked her arm through her husband’s. Who the hell would kill this harmless couple?

  I needed to call the cops, though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

  Looking across the counter, I checked the till. It remained shut, and I couldn’t see that anything obvious had been taken.

  Why would someone break in here and not empty the till? I assumed there was a back entrance they must have gotten in through, and left again via.

  The woman suddenly gasped, her legs and arms jerking. The movement made me jump. Jesus fucking Christ. My heart raced. She was alive.

  I crouched beside her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m going to call the paramedics. You’re going to be all right.” I prayed she wasn’t going to ask after her husband, or realize she was lying next to his corpse. I looked around for a landline. They must have one in the store, as no one could rely on their cell phones up here.

  I spotted an old fashioned phone attached to the wall.

  “You,” she managed to say, her voice weak and croaky.

  “Yes, it’s me. From yesterday. I came into your store to buy donuts.” I didn’t know why I was saying this. I guessed I didn’t want her to be frightened. I wanted her to understand that I wasn’t her attacker.

  “You,” she said again.

  She was most likely confused.

  “I’m going to call the paramedics and the police. They’ll be able to help.”

  “They asked about you.”

  I frowned, a sudden chill crackling across my skin like a film of ice spreading across water. “What?”

  “The men. They asked about you.” She gave a moan. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sorry? What did she mean sorry?

  I almost didn’t want to ask.

  “Men were here asking about us? Men who hurt you?”

  She swallowed then gave a nod so faint I almost missed it. Her rheumy blue eyes slipped shut.

  Oh, God. Vee.

  “Did you tell them where we were staying?” I asked her, speaking loudly, but I didn’t get a reply. Jumping back to my feet, I slammed my fists on the counter. “Fuck! Fuck!”

  I wanted to turn and run from the store, leap into the truck, and drive straight to the cabin, but this poor lady needed help.

  Instead, I snatched the phone off the wall. I punched nine-one-one into the dial.

  “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

  “I need paramedics and the cops. There’s a man been killed and an old lady badly hurt.”

  “What’s your name please, sir?”

  “It doesn’t matter what my name is, just get here fast.” I reeled off the address. Perhaps I should have also told them to come to the cabin. I was filled with the gut wrenching certainty that they would be needed. But our kind didn’t get the police involved if we could help it. Including the police would get people killed, and I wasn’t about to do anything that might get Vee in any more trouble than she might be already.

  I felt wretched leaving the old lady here alone, but I didn’t have any choice. Vee might be in trouble at the cabin, and I couldn’t stand here waiting around knowing she might need my help.

  I crouched at her shoulder. “Help will be here soon.” I touched her arm, but didn’t get any response. The help might be too late.

  Straightening, I ran for the ruined door, swinging it open and launching myself back out into the bright sunshine. It seemed wrong for it to be such a beautiful day when the inside of the building housed such horror.

  I couldn’t risk still being here when the cops arrived. I jumped back into the truck and pulled out of the parking lot with a screech of tires, dust billowing out behind the wheels. I turned the vehicle in a tight circle and drove back up the road, back toward the cabins.

  In my head, a mantra repeated: Let Vee be all right, let Vee be all right, let Vee be all right.

  It was wishful thinking. If men had gone to the store and asked after us, there was no reason for them not to go directly there. Damn it. I should have gone straight back home, not stopped for donuts. What if I’d just missed them? What if Vee had been lying there dying, while I’d been helping the old woman in the store?

  Berating myself wasn’t going to help anyone.

  I drove as fast as I dared, killing the speed limit, thankful there wasn’t any other traffic on the road. It felt as though the turnoff for the cabins would never come up, but then suddenly it was on me and I stamped my foot on the brakes and wrenched the steering wheel to the left, causing the ti
res to squeal in protest once more.

  Gravel spat from beneath the wheels as I raced toward the cabin. I threw the truck into neutral and dragged on the handbrake, not even bothering switching off the engine. From the outside, the cabin looked exactly the same—nothing was broken. I raced up to it and fell through the door, panic and thick dread wrapping me in its sludge.

  “Vee!” I yelled. “Vee, where are you?”

  I prayed for her to wander out, perhaps having just gotten out of the bath, wrapped in a towel, relaxed, but the cabin felt empty.

  No, no, no, no.

  I slammed my way through the building, checking each room. They were all empty.

  Re-entering the living area of the cabin, I slowly drew to a halt, breathing hard.

  Her father? Had he thwarted me and come down here and taken her? Had I been played all along, going back to New York when he’d been waiting for the moment she’d be alone so he could take her from me? I put my hand on my head, looking around, trying to figure out what to do next.

  My heart stopped.

  Red smeared the countertop of the kitchen.

  Blood.

  Lots of blood.

  I’d been so focused on finding a person during my whirlwind through the cabin, I’d missed it the first time.

  Horror filled me.

  Step after step, I moved toward the counter, my eyes fixed on the bloodied puddles and bright red streaks. Sunlight streamed through the window, the light glinting off the biggest pool of blood. Then just beside it, also covered in blood, I spotted a cell phone and a piece of paper.

  My heart picked up again, and I hurried over. The cell phone was fully charged, but showed no text messages or missed calls, and the contact list was empty. I turned my attention to the piece of paper. It wasn’t until I picked it up to read that I realized something had been resting on top. The thing rolled off the paper and onto the counter.

  I frowned and reached out and picked the object up. It was small and covered in blood, so much blood it made it hard for me to figure out what it was. I wiped away some of the fluid and my heart lurched into my throat as I saw something was attached the lump of bloodied flesh.