Warped (The Mercenary Series Book 2)

by Marissa Farrar

  But if I was X, who the hell was Lee Mason?

  The feeling of being left in the dark made me angry and agitated. I hated the idea of the man beside me knowing more about me than I did. I didn’t like the guy, but I had no idea why. I was clamping down on my irritation and frustration with everything I had, when my real instincts were to lash out and hurt someone.

  “How far is your apartment?” I asked when we’d put a reasonable distance between us and the hospital.

  Harvey turned to me with a frown. “You don’t actually think I’m taking you back to my place. What do you think this is, a fucking date?”

  “You said that’s what we were doing.”

  “Yeah, when I thought you were using an alias as a way of making sure no one was able to track you down at the hospital. I was helping you out, for old times’ sake, as a way of getting you out of there—I could tell the hospital wasn’t keen on just letting you wander out of there on your own with you claiming you didn’t have any memory. They probably thought you’d try to sue them or something if things ended up going wrong. I’m not too happy about them needing to pass on my address to the cops as your forwarding address, though, in case they need to contact you.”

  “They asked you for that?”

  “Yeah, ’course they did. You went in there with a gunshot wound and no memory. They have to follow that shit up.”

  “Fuck, sorry.” I didn’t know why I was apologizing to him. It wasn’t as though I had asked for his help.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I figured I owed you one.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You do?”

  “We’ve had a couple of run-ins, you and I.”

  “What, in work?”

  Only serving to increase my frustration, he laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  My patience snapped. Without thinking about what I was doing, I just reacted. I spun around on him and grabbed him by the throat. Using my full body weight, I slammed him up against the wall of the building behind. He gave a ‘ugh’ of surprise and pain when he hit the brickwork.

  “Stop fucking playing with me,” I spat. “Tell me who I am, or I swear to God, I will rip the words out of your damned throat.”

  The cloud of my fury began to clear, and I realized I was pinning the man who’d offered to help me up against a wall by his throat. Not only that, pedestrians were walking by, some hurrying to get past, others slowing with curiosity, some murmuring their dismay to each other.

  I let go of Harvey.

  He clutched his throat, but to my astonishment, the laughter continued. “Now there’s the X I know and love,” he said, his voice raspy. “I knew you were still in there somewhere.”

  I stepped away and placed both hands on top of my head. What the hell was going on?

  “You need to tell me everything you know,” I told him. “Or I’m likely to go fucking insane.”

  He picked himself off the ground. “And I don’t think you being insane would be safe for anyone.”

  “Why do you talk like that? It’s as though I used to be a psychopath or something.”

  Harvey didn’t say anything, but his lips twisted. “Well ...”

  “I am not a goddamned psychopath.”

  “Maybe not diagnosed.” He leaned in closer to lower his voice. “But you do kill people for a living.”

  I stared at him. “That’s insane.”

  “Maybe, but it’s the truth. Look, we can’t talk about this standing in the middle of the street. If someone spots us, we’re liable to be shot.”

  “If I’m not coming back with you, where the hell are we going?”

  He exhaled a sigh. “I honestly thought you’d tell me thanks for breaking you out and be heading on your merry way. But you don’t actually have anywhere to go, do you?”

  I slowly shook my head.

  “Great.” By the tone of his voice, it sounded as though it was anything but. “I guess you will have to come and stay with me, then. Only until you get your memory back, though. I don’t like the idea of having a known killer living with me.”

  “So is your apartment nearby?” I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  “Yeah, a couple of blocks from here. But if I end up dead because of helping you, I’m holding you completely responsible.”

  His words caused a smile to tug at the corners of my lips.

  Harvey rolled his eyes. “Come on. I hope you can manage a walk.”

  Chapter Nine

  V

  I managed to hold it together long enough to finish my interview with the lawyer. The nausea didn’t return, but I still felt lightheaded and not really with it. I put the feeling down to not having eaten so far that day, and I’d thrown up the coffee I’d drunk.

  I left the court with Tony’s men flanking me. I was relieved that part, at least, was over, though I knew it was only the start. I had a long road ahead of me; I just needed to focus on the end goal.

  “Hey, do you mind if we stop off somewhere and grab some takeout?” I asked Warren. “I haven’t eaten today and I think my blood sugar must be low or something.”

  He exchanged a glance with the other guy, Paulie, as he tended to do. It was as though neither was capable of making a decision without consulting the other one, and he shrugged. “Sure, that would be fine. I’m kinda hungry myself.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Paulie agreed. “It’ll be okay as long as we’re quick.”

  Relief made me sigh, my shoulders sagging. I hadn’t wanted to go back to Tony’s just yet. I knew my sister would pepper me with questions, and I needed some head space to get my thoughts together before I had to tell her what had been said. Of course, we weren’t supposed to discuss the case outside of the courtroom, but in a way, she was involved. She’d needed to know I’d told the police she wasn’t there when our mother died. A part of me had worried she would go to the police herself and tell them it hadn’t been our father who had killed our mother, but instead it had been my finger that had pulled the trigger. But she had been there, and even though she thought there must have been something else I could have done about our mother’s death, she knew it had ultimately happened because our father, Mickey Five Fingers, was a sadistic, control-freak fuck.

  We climbed into one of Tony’s cars, which was parked outside. I took the back seat while the two gangsters sat up front, Warren driving. They pulled away from the imposing building, and I sat with my head pressed against the window, staring out at Lower Manhattan as it passed by. The chill of fall had set in, people favoring sweaters and jackets to summer dresses and sandals. Another few weeks and we’d start to see snow. This place had once been my home, but now, even though I was back, I felt utterly removed from the place. It was as though I was a ghost wandering among the living.

  I watched all these people carrying on with their lives, clueless about the dark, dangerous world that surrounded them. Young women carried numerous shopping bags with the names of expensive stores plastered across the sides. Businessmen strode with cell phones permanently clamped to their ears. Stressed out moms hustled older kids down the street, while they pushed strollers containing the little ones. I envied them their easy lives. I knew they had their own stresses, mortgages to pay, relationships that were breaking down, demanding bosses, but I couldn’t imagine any of them were dealing with the sort of things I had to.

  My gaze landed on two men standing on the street. Something about them drew my attention, though I wasn’t sure what. They looked as though they were fighting, but then one clapped his hand on the other man’s shoulder and laughed. The man wearing black. The man, who, as he turned to face the road as we drove by, I saw was X.

  My heartrate skyrocketed, adrenaline firing through my veins. I slammed both hands against the window, my nose pressed against the glass, my eyes widening. Without any thought to the consequences, I yelled, “Stop the car!”

  The panic in my voice must have been obvious, because Warren stamped on the brakes, throwing me forward.

&
nbsp; “What the hell?” Paulie exclaimed.

  I suddenly realized these men would want X dead. Hell, they thought he already was dead, but to discover he was alive again would have them painting another cross on his back.

  My mind raced. “Umm … That hotdog place is my favorite. We have to go there. It’s the best in the city.”

  Paulie peered toward the place I’d motioned to, his eyes squinted as he took in the sight of the rundown corner restaurant advertising hotdogs and coffee. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, it’s like New York’s best kept secret. You won’t regret it, I swear.”

  Someone behind us honked their horn, and I stared with my heart tripping and palms sweaty as X glanced in our direction, drawn by the sound.

  I willed for him to notice me, to sense me there, as I had so often sensed his presence, but he just turned back and continued to talk to the guy he was with.

  “You wanna go for a hotdog, Warren?” Paulie asked, and it was all I could do to stop myself either screaming at him to pull over, or throwing myself from the car. My heart pounded, my breathing shallow.

  Warren shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

  It was all I could do not to launch myself out of the car and run through traffic to reach him. Only knowing it would alert the two gangsters in the front of the car that X was still alive stopped me, but I was getting desperate, certain X would walk off at any moment, and I’d miss him.

  Thankfully, they pulled over the car and I was able to get out. I darted a glance in X’s direction. He was still there, still arguing with the guy in a suit. What was going on there? Who was the other man?

  I was furious and confused, elated and heartbroken. If he was still alive, why hadn’t he come back for me? I couldn’t believe he was still in New York, just wandering around the streets like a regular person. What did he think he was doing? Did he no longer care people wanted him dead? I had to see him. Had to speak to him. What if he wandered off, and I never saw him again? I couldn’t handle that—the not knowing, all the questions. Where had he been these last couple of weeks?

  Hadn’t he cared for me at all?

  Seeing him, obviously alive and well, here in New York, when he knew Tony had me this whole time, made me think he didn’t. Or had he decided Tony was my best choice? He knew I wanted to testify, and Tony had been offering up protection. Or was I just making excuses for him—wanting to believe that rather than believe he had simply never given a shit about me?

  “Come on, then,” said Paulie heading to the restaurant.

  “Actually,” I said, “I’m just going to use the bathroom. All that coffee has gone straight to my bladder.”

  He gave a sigh of exasperation. “Fine. But we’re going to eat. I’m starving. You want me to get you something?”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever looks good.”

  My gaze darted for the restroom. It was through a set of doors, another two doors leading off a narrow corridor. A third door was at the end, with a ‘Fire Exit’ sign positioned above it. My heart pounded in my throat, and the nausea had returned, but I figured it was from the adrenaline. I knew I would get in some serious shit if I was spotted, but I couldn’t just let him go.

  Not allowing myself any more time to think, I ran for the fire exit, praying it wouldn’t be alarmed. I used the handle and swung it open to reveal the small alleyway running adjacent to the main road. No alarm sounded. The place was probably breaking some kind of city law by not having it rigged. Not pausing, I ran, heading around the corner and back to the road where I had spotted X. I looked around for him wildly. He was no longer in the spot where I’d seen him arguing with the man, and my heart sank. If he’d caught a cab during the few minutes when I’d been in the restaurant, I’d have lost him. But then I spotted his broad shoulders pushing through the constant stream of pedestrians walking in the opposite direction.

  I ran after him.

  I bumped into people, trod on feet, shoved others out of the way. I didn’t care about all the exclamations of irritation from people, or if I was being rude. I only wanted to reach him, and was terrified I’d lose sight of him. I’d truly believed he was dead, and now I wanted to be able to touch him to believe he was real.

  As I caught up to him, I reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back around.

  I should have known that was a bad move to pull on someone like X.

  He moved quickly, spinning around to first dislodge my hand with an upward swipe of his other arm, and then his fingers were around my throat. His blue eyes, eyes I had fallen so hard for, glared at me. “What the hell do you want?”

  “X, please,” I managed to squeak. “Put me down.”

  The guy he was with yanked at his arm. “Hey, put her down, man.”

  His fingers loosened around my throat and he set my feet on the ground. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  My mouth opened and closed. Of all the things I expected him to say, this wasn’t it.

  “It’s me,” I said in confusion. “It’s Vee.”

  The man stepped forward. “I don’t know how you know him, sweetheart, but he’s suffering from amnesia. He almost died.”

  My heart clenched. “Oh, X. You don’t recognize me at all?” And he didn’t. I could see it in his eyes. A blankness, devoid of any emotion for me. It was completely different from how he had looked at me before, as though he was staring right down into my soul.

  I reached out, just wanting to touch his face, but he jerked away. “X, I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s your fault? Who are you?”

  “What happened to you is my fault. My name’s Verity. You were sent to kill me.” Dark shadows of confusion clouded his face. I wanted so badly to pull him into my arms and kiss away his mistrust. “I know you, X. I really know you.”

  I glanced over to the man he was with, a silent plea for help.

  But then I heard shouts come from behind me. “Hey!”

  Damn it. Paulie and Warren had realized I had gone. I couldn’t let them see X. “I have to go.”

  “Wait,” said the man in the suit. “Here, take this.” He shoved something into my hand, and, with one last longing glance at X, I forced myself to turn from him and hurried away. A lump choked my throat. X had lost his memory. He had no idea who I was.

  Strong fingers suddenly clamped around my upper arm, and I spun to find Paulie staring down at me. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” he snarled.

  I blinked, trying to look innocent. “Nothing. I had a headache. I wanted some fresh air.”

  “Halfway down the street?”

  “I’m allowed to walk a little.”

  “No, no you’re not. Especially not on your own. Do you have any idea how mad Tony would be if he knew we’d let you wander off down the street alone? He’d cut off our fucking balls, that’s how mad.”

  “Jeesh. No need to be so dramatic.”

  He gave me a little shake, as though I was an errant puppy, rather than a twenty-two year old woman. “You think I’m dramatic? Just wait and see what Tony would do if he found out.”

  A ripple of unease ran through me. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

  He gave a cold laugh. “No, funny enough, I’m quite attached to my balls.”

  I still clutched the card the other man had given me, and was terrified they’d spot it. I needed to shield the view from them. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s just go back to the restaurant. I could eat that hotdog now.”

  And it was true. I was suddenly ravenously hungry. I could have eaten two. I thought they might tell me I’d blown my chance and that we were heading back, but they obviously wanted their food, too.

  The moment I turned my back to them, I slipped the card down the front of my shirt and into the side part of my bra. I didn’t think any of them would be looking down there any time soon.

  My heart wrenched for X. I desperately wanted to be with him. I felt as though if I took his face in my han
ds and kissed his mouth, and made him look into my eyes, he would remember me.

  But, more important than him remembering me was the fact he was still alive. For the first time in two weeks, a spark of hope lit inside me.

  Chapter Ten

  X

  Harvey dragged me away from the beautiful woman with the wild, dark eyes and shiny black hair. I had tried to strangle her, an automatic reaction to me being threatened, it would seem. It was as though that was my subconscious’s default setting to any kind of perceived attack—to go for the jugular.

  But she said I’d been sent to kill her.

  Had she meant that in some kind of rhetorical way?

  I didn’t remember her, but I felt like I knew her.

  She’d vanished into the crowd, and Harvey had pulled me the other way. “Who is she?” I asked him.

  “I’m not sure.” He frowned. “But she looked familiar.”

  “I thought the same thing. She said I’d been sent to kill her.”

  “That would make sense.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “It would?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t talk to you about it out here.”

  We walked another couple of blocks until Harvey stopped and turned to push open the door of an expensive apartment building. The concierge on the desk gave him a nod as we passed. “Mr. Baglione.”

  He nodded back. “Good afternoon, Nicholas.”

  We took the elevator up to Harvey’s apartment. It was large, with plush furnishings and breathtaking views across the city.

  “You can take the bedroom through there,” he said, nodding toward one of the closed doors.

  “Thanks, but I’m more interested in answers than sleep right now. You said I kill for a living, so had I been paid to kill that woman? If so, why the hell is she still alive?”