My pace had slowed, but I kept running, my feet smacking on the asphalt. My knees hurt, and the pain in my hand returned with throbbing vengeance.
I heard a sound. An engine approaching. A car. My heart swelled with hope. Surely anyone would stop to help a bleeding young woman on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
The vehicle came around the corner and I lifted my good hand to wave it down. “Help! I need help!”
The blinker came on, and it slowed, signaling to pull in toward me. I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d get out of here, and then let X know I was safe. I’d also let him know exactly where to find Giovanni, and we’d both make sure he didn’t get away with cutting off the end of my finger.
Then my eyes made out the face of the man driving, and cold dread settled deep in my gut.
Giovanni was behind the wheel.
Fresh adrenaline burst through me. Despite my earlier thoughts about getting lost in the forest and dying of exposure, I turned abruptly from the road and plunged into the undergrowth. Low hanging branches whipped my legs, nettles clung to the outside of my jeans.
Behind me, I heard a door slam.
His voice followed me into the bush. “You’re not getting away!”
He could say what he liked. I had other plans.
I kept running, ignoring everything that tried to trip me up and get in my way, barging though or leaping over it.
A body slammed into me from the side, and I crashed to the ground, the breath expelling from my lungs, leaving me gasping. It took me a moment to realize one of Giovanni’s henchmen was lying on top of me, but I was too winded and exhausted to fight back. I was done. All the fight had gone out of me. I’d tried, and I’d lost.
A crunch of feet on fallen autumn leaves, and then he was standing over me. Giovanni, holding a gun which he pointed at my head.
“Now, that was very stupid, wasn’t it? What if you’d forced me to shoot you?”
I didn’t answer, just stared at him.
“Get up, Terrance. You’re not supposed to be taking a rest.”
“Sorry, boss.” The man got off me, and I was able to breathe more deeply. I gave him an extra shove to help him up, and he shot me a glare.
Giovanni reached down and hauled me up by my arm.
“Get the fuck off me,” I managed to gasp.
“Not a chance. I’m impressed to see you out, though. A locked door and an armed man. That’s not easy to get through.”
I clamped my mouth shut. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him how I did it. I figured his henchman would be the one who could give him the lowdown on events. I didn’t need to be the one to do it.
The man who’d landed on me took hold of my other arm. Together, they dragged me back through the bushes, and toward the main road where they’d abandoned their car. I prayed for another vehicle to come along, not to stop, as I figured that would most likely get whoever stopped killed, but to keep going and report what they had seen so the authorities might come looking for me. I wasn’t a fan of the cops, but I had to admit they’d helped me in times when I’d needed it.
Giovanni shoved me into the back of the car and slammed the door shut on me. I sat there, my head hung. Exhaustion swam over me. I almost wanted to be back in the cellar, so I could lay my head down and sleep for a while. I hoped they wouldn’t take my blanket from me as punishment. Hopefully, the other guy who’d been watching me wouldn’t tell Giovanni that he’d taken pity on me and given me a blanket and soup. He’d probably get in trouble for doing so, as much trouble as opening the door for me to escape. He wouldn’t want to admit that when I’d escaped, it had been the second time he’d opened the door. The inside of the cellar was dark enough that hopefully Giovanni wouldn’t notice the additional items.
We got back to the house, and Giovanni hauled me back out of the car. My legs gave way beneath me, and I stumbled, the men holding me up. The man who’d let me out stood on the porch, glaring at me. I took satisfaction in seeing the blood still oozing from his nostrils and the way bruises had already darkened beneath his eyes.
Giovanni didn’t say a thing as he dragged me past him. I figured he’d be dealt with later.
The door to the cellar remained open, and Giovanni pushed me through. I slipped down the first couple of stairs, but managed to catch myself before I fell any farther.
Above me, the door slammed shut, plunging me back into darkness. I knew I should have been emotional—angry that my plan had failed and frightened for my life. But, instead, determination settled inside me, a certainty I wasn’t going to give up. I might not have gotten away, but I had escaped. If I could do it once, I could do it again, only this time I wouldn’t let them catch me.
I needed to rest now. Then I’d think about my next steps.
I found my blanket and pulled it around me, lying on the cold stone floor.
My eyes slipped shut, and the distant burbling of water lulled me to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
X
I had a hundred thousand dollars in a case in the back of my truck.
I didn’t feel comfortable carrying this stupid amount of cash around with me, but what choice did I have? If Mickey Five Fingers came up with his side of the agreement, we’d have twice that amount. If anyone tried to mug me now and got away with it, they’d be damn happy when they discovered what they’d stolen.
Not that I was going to let anyone mug me.
I was driving again, heading back to Vee’s father’s house. I was right on time, and so expected Mickey Five Finger’s to either be there waiting for me, or to arrive shortly.
I’d met the man before, but only for a matter of minutes. He’d handed me the photograph of Vee then—the same one that had captured my heart, and led to me obsessing over her. He’d also given me her address in Witness Protection, the place where she worked, and the money it cost to kill her.
Would I have ever gone through with it? I thought back to finding Tony the Hound’s men already at her house. Having to kill the men had interrupted me, and given Vee the chance to attack. What if they hadn’t been there? Would I have ended up killing Vee? I didn’t think so. Even though I told myself I’d been going to the house to complete the job, I’d really only been going there to get closer to her. Perhaps I’d hoped for someone to interrupt me. I was glad they had now, despite the events that had followed.
I reached Vee’s father’s house and pulled up outside the gate. This time I didn’t need to get out and press the buzzer. The gates rolled open without anyone questioning who I was and what I was doing there. A different car sat in the driveway—a large black Mercedes. It reminded me of the type of car from a funeral procession. I didn’t take that as a good omen.
Pulling my truck up beside the flashy vehicle, I switched off the engine and climbed out. I debated what to do with the case containing the cash. I didn’t want to leave it, but it wasn’t as though I could trust Mickey Five Fingers either. Problem was, I was going to have to trust Vee’s father, at least for the next twenty-four hours. I picked up the case, deciding to take it with me.
The front door opened, revealing Mickey Five Fingers standing in the doorway. He was immaculately dressed in an expensive dark gray suit. He must have been in his late forties, but he looked good for it, and I would have guessed early to mid-forties at the most. He stared at me with eyes that appeared almost black. His thin mouth was unsmiling.
“Now, there’s a man I wasn’t expecting to see again,” he said. “At least, not alive.”
I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for meeting the father of your pregnant girlfriend, the same father who had paid me to have her killed. I didn’t want to shake his hand, and I hoped he wasn’t going to offer it to me. I didn’t want to start this conversation on an awkward note, and leaving him hanging certainly would have.
Luckily, he kept his hands by his side.
I managed to make the corners of my mouth twitch. “The feeling is mutual,” I
replied. What I really wanted to do was pull my weapon and shoot the son-of-a-bitch dead, but right now I needed him, and if he ever wanted to see his oldest daughter again, he needed me, too.
Mickey Five Fingers turned abruptly and walked away. I figured that meant I was supposed to follow him.
He spoke as he walked into his office, and reached his desk before turning back to face me. “You might not trust me, X, but I plan on watching my back, too. I’m sure nothing would please Vee more than seeing me meet my maker.”
Surely he didn’t think he’d be going to Heaven after he died? Or perhaps he was thinking his maker had been the guy below the earth?
The two men—Little and Large—were already waiting in the office. I noted they were both armed. They could shoot me, but then Mickey would never find out what happened to his oldest daughter.
“So,” he said, “how is this going to work?”
“I need another hundred thousand dollars in order to get Giovanni Bianchi to release Verity. I have the same amount to put toward her release.” I lifted the case in my hand. They could shoot me now and take the money, but I was betting on Mickey deciding getting his own revenge on his wayward daughter was more important to him than cash. My insurance was not letting Mickey know exactly where we were going. Not that I knew exactly myself yet, though I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough. “Do you have the money?”
Mickey Five Fingers nodded. “I have it. You understand that I’m not just going to pay off your debt and then watch you walk off into the sunset with my daughter. We pay the debt, and she’s mine.”
“She’s a person. She can’t be owned.”
“Then why are we paying for her?” He turned from me, looking out of the window, his casual body language a way of showing me he didn’t consider me to be any sort of threat. “Anyway, I have a trump card. Verity will choose to come back with me, whether you’re there or not.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s exactly so.”
He nodded to the doorway, and my gaze followed the direction. A young woman stepped into the room, her dark eyes wide with fear. Dark eyes that were so like Vee’s. But even though the girl had turned eighteen since I’d last seen her, now she seemed younger. Shrunken, smaller. As though life had hollowed her out.
Nicole.
She stopped when she saw me, her eyes widening farther. “You? What are you doing here?”
“Your sister is in trouble. I’m asking your father for help in finding her.”
“Trouble?”
I nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
She was terrified of her father—that much was obvious. Her hands trembled when she reached up to anxiously brush non-existent hair from her face. Her skin was pale and dull, her eyes hollowed. She’d clearly lost weight, making her young face gaunt.
For the first time, I felt sorry for Nicole. I was starting to understand why Vee had been so desperate to protect her. I had to remind myself Nicole had still been a child when her mother died, and even for an older child, it was a terrible thing to witness. Plus she’d seen the older sister she’d perhaps always worshipped forced to do such a horrible thing, and she hadn’t known what to do with those two jarring sides of her feelings. Should she hate her sister or love her? I guessed hating someone was sometimes easier than loving them.
I turned back to Vee’s father. “You’re bringing Nicole with you?”
“Of course. How else am I going to convince Verity that she needs to come with me rather than you? That’s assuming she lives to tell the tale.”
“It’ll be dangerous. Giovanni Bianchi isn’t screwing around.” I remembered what I had in my pocket. I reached down, and several guns immediately pointed at my head. “Relax,” I told them. “I’m just getting something out of my pocket.”
Mickey gave a nod to his men, and they lowered their guns.
My fingers met with the small roll of tissue and I pulled it out.
“What’s that?” he asked.
I stepped forward and shook the tissue out onto his desk. The small chunk of finger tipped out and rolled slightly before coming to a rest.
“What the hell?”
“It’s the part of your daughter’s finger Giovanni cut off.” From behind me, Nicole squeaked in horror. “You still want to put your other daughter in the middle of that?”
Mickey shot Nicole a look I couldn’t read, but which sent ice crawling through my veins. “I think it would be good for her to see what becomes of a daughter who treats her father with such disrespect.”
I had to clamp my mouth shut to stop myself pointing out exactly how badly he’d treated her. I wasn’t here to get into an argument on morality.
“We have until tomorrow morning to get to her and hand Giovanni the money,” I said.
Mickey laughed. “You don’t think I’m going to let him take my money? The moment he lets Verity go, I’m shooting the son-of-a-bitch. I’ll take my money and my daughter.”
“I suspect Giovanni has men. Vee—Verity—wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. For him to do … that … to her shows he isn’t there alone.”
Mickey glanced at his two sidekicks. “I have men, too. Giovanni is a fool if he thinks this will all go down without a fight.” He looked at me. “Or does he think you’ve gone soft now, X? You used to be a cold-hearted killer. I can’t help feeling disappointed. What happened to you?”
I fell in love with your daughter, I wanted to say, but didn’t. In truth, I guessed I’d been softening before that. Wasn’t my giving the cop a warning the start of all this mess? I should have just killed the guy. It showed having a conscience didn’t do any good in the long run. The cop had ended up dead anyway, and Giovanni was taking out my mistake on Vee. I should have given him back his money, but I’d already taken the job for Vee’s father, and had given half his money to the cop, which he’d then handed in to the authorities. Plus, giving Giovanni back the money would have most likely gotten me killed. Instead, I’d taken the job of killing Vee and gotten the hell out of New York, thinking that would be enough protection. Turned out, I’d been wrong.
I was outnumbered three to one, and I figured I probably needed Mickey Five Fingers more than he needed me.
“Fine. We need to leave soon. Time’s running out.”
Chapter Seventeen
V
When I opened my eyes, nothing changed. Everything was as black as it had been when they’d been closed. Panic surged through me, stealing my breath and making me bolt upright. I clawed my hands to my face, unsure of what I would find, but then it came back to me. I hadn’t gone blind. I was just in the pitch black, in the cellar of a cabin, in the middle of the forest, in the Catskill Mountains.
The panic about thinking I was blind faded, and with it came pain. My whole body hurt—my finger the most, but every muscle ached, and I groaned as I rolled my neck and stretched my arms and legs, trying to release the kinks.
A sudden cramp gripped my calf, and I reached down to grab the knotted muscle, the pain unbelievably intense. I didn’t know if I should try to stretch it or keep it still, so I ended up just digging my fingers into the rock hard lump my calf muscle had become, moaning in self pity, and praying the cramp would release quickly.
It did and I was able to breathe again.
My hand went to my stomach. Was a little life still growing in there? I felt sick at the idea that the amount of stress I’d been under had killed the baby. While other mothers-to-be were being pampered by their husbands and thrown baby showers by their friends, I was losing digits, running around a forest, and sleeping in a pitch black hole. Perhaps it would be best if the baby didn’t survive. What kind of life was I going to bring him or her into, anyway?
Guilt stabbed me. Would there ever be a time when I didn’t feel my life was in danger? Would X always have someone after him? We hadn’t even thought about what either of us would do for work—if he was planning on giving up the hit man business. I couldn’t have my child
brought up with a hit man as a father, could I? It would mean we’d never be safe. There would always be the chance something would go wrong and people would be after us. The baby and I would be seen as an easy target, a way of controlling him.
I barked laughter, the sound echoing around me.
Why was I even worrying about such a thing? I didn’t even know if I’d live to see the outside of this place. I might never see X again, never mind have any say in what a suitable career would be for a new father.
I wondered what he was doing now. Giovanni had asked him for money in return for my freedom. He wanted money, and a lot of it. Would X have been able to get his hands on such a large sum?
Pulling the blanket closer around my shoulders, I shivered. It was freezing. I found the flask of soup and poured myself a cup. It was cooler now, and I gulped rather than sipped, realizing both how hungry and thirsty I was. The race through the forest had taken everything out of me. How long had I been asleep? I had no idea. It could have been one hour, it might have been six.
I heard a noise. I’d lost my sense of direction from being asleep, so I was no longer sure which way the stairs were. But the distinctive click and clunk of the two locks sounded to my right, and I turned toward them.
The door cracked open, a shaft of light flooding down the staircase. I squinted and lifted my arm to shield myself from the glare. The dark shape of a man filled the space, and then a second light joined the first. The door shut behind him, but there continued to be light, and I realized he was carrying a flashlight.
Giovanni.
“I thought I’d come and say hello to my little escape artist,” he said as he walked down the stairs. “That was quite the adventure you gave us. For one moment, there, I thought we weren’t going to catch you.”
He shined the light directly at me, forcing me to narrow my eyes and turn my face away. It was like being in a spotlight.
Flawed (The Mercenary Series Book 3) Page 10
