Warped (The Mercenary Series Book 2)

by Marissa Farrar

  “I’ll pass on this new number to the prosecutor,” he continued. “I expect she’ll have been concerned if she’s been trying to get hold of you and can’t.”

  “Sorry about that. It was kind of unavoidable.”

  I wondered if he would say anything about a shooting at the house. Had the gunfire been reported by someone nearby? Would the men killed there have been reported to anyone as dead or missing? No police had come to Harvey’s apartment yet, so I figured no one had reported his body. I guessed Tony the Hound had a way of making bodies disappear, and anyone who lived around him knew better than to pick up the phone and call the police if they heard anything suspicious going down. I imagined bad things happened to anyone who tried to complain about Tony.

  “You okay?” Detective Caraway asked, leaning in slightly so he could look into my face.

  I straightened and forced a smile. “Yes, fine. I just want this all to be over.”

  “I understand. Verity, have you thought about what you’re going to do when it is over?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really.”

  “You can go back into Witness Protection. I know things won’t be safe for you in the city, even if your father is locked up for a very long time.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think my sister will go.”

  “You don’t have to live everything according to Nicole. She’s almost eighteen, and will be eighteen after the trial. You’re both adults and free to do as you want.”

  “Yes, but I’m all she has.”

  Was that what I meant to say? Or was the truth of it that she was all I had?

  He gave a brief nod. “I understand. Just remember the offer is there if you need it.”

  “I will.”

  I stood from the desk and my mind swam, causing me to stumble slightly. I was feeling weak and lightheaded from not eating for the past … how long had it been? Twenty-four hours?

  The detective jumped from his chair and quickly navigated the desk to catch me by the arm.

  He looked down at me with a frown. “I’m not happy about letting you walk out like this, Verity. Please, let me drive you to a hotel, at least.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine, I promise. I just haven’t eaten all day.”

  “So let me take you for something to eat.”

  I felt a spark there, as though he might have been hoping for something more. I shook my head. “I have a friend waiting for me. We’re grabbing takeout as soon as I finish up here, I promise.”

  He released my arm and stepped away from me. “Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He walked me to the door. “Make sure you look after yourself, Verity. I realize this case is putting a huge amount of stress on you, but you know we can’t do this without you. You need to take care of yourself, too, okay?”

  I nodded, and then thought of something. “Hey, can I ask one favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “If you happen to hear anything about my sister, would you let me know?”

  He frowned slightly. “What kind of thing? Are you worried for her safety?”

  I gave a wry smile. “I’m always worried for her safety, but it’s nothing specific, if that’s what you’re thinking. But you know who Tony Mancini is as well as I do. I want your assurance that if you hear of anything going on over there you’ll let me know.”

  He nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Thank you, Detective.”

  And I turned from him and walked out to join the hit man waiting for me outside.

  Chapter Nineteen

  X

  I waited in the car a couple of blocks from the NYPD station. I sat low in the seat, my arm resting on the bottom of the driver’s window, my fingers pressed against my temple, so my hand obscured the side of my face.

  Vee’s words stayed with me—how she’d said my past would catch up with me, and I couldn’t live like a normal person. Not having my memories made me feel vulnerable and ill-prepared. At least when Harvey had been alive and helping me, I felt like he gave me a glimpse into the person I was, and he had knowledge about the people I’d worked for and some of the jobs I’d carried out. Now I had Vee, but I didn’t think we’d known each other that long, and I didn’t know how much she knew about my job.

  There might even be eyes on me now. Someone with a vendetta against me could be watching the car, or even worse, watching Vee. Wanting my memories wasn’t only about my own frustration or my desire to remember the time I had shared with Vee, it was about both of our safety.

  I needed to get Vee to tell me everything she knew about me in an effort to get them back. It was the only thing I could think of that would help.

  I caught sight of her familiar shape hurrying down the street toward me. She walked with her head down, her long hair falling over her face to hide her identity. She was frightened for her life, and her living with such fear made my insides contort with cold anger. I wanted to wipe out every son-of-a-bitch who instilled such emotions inside her. The memory of the blue and green bruises around her throat caused my fury to increase. If I’d known about Tony the Hound putting his hands on her when I’d been at his place, I wouldn’t have left without making sure I’d put a bullet in him first. I didn’t know how all of this was going to end, but I planned on making sure Tony paid for what he did to Vee.

  Leaning across the car, I opened the passenger door for her. She slid onto the seat and pushed her hair out of her face.

  “How did it go?”

  She sighed. “As well as could be expected, I guess. He’s going to pass on that phone number to the prosecutor on the case, and wants me to call him with an address after we find a motel.”

  “That all sounds good.” I wondered why she seemed so down. It seemed like something other than people wanting her dead was bothering her.

  “Yeah. I just wish I could do more for my sister.”

  “You mentioned her to the detective?”

  “He said they couldn’t do anything because she was turning eighteen in a couple of days and could choose to live with whoever she liked. I wish she was either a lot younger, so she would be forced to do as she was told, or else a lot older so I didn’t have to worry about her so much.”

  I offered her a small smile. “You’d still worry about her, no matter her age. She’s your sister.”

  She gave that sigh again. “Is it awful of me to say that sometimes I wish I didn’t have a sister? Life would be so much easier if I only had myself to worry about.”

  “But now you have me.” I was testing her with my words. I didn’t think I’d been mistaken about the connection I felt between us, but she’d backed right off when I’d said I loved her. I believed she loved me, too, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. What she was saying now about wishing she didn’t have to worry about her sister made me think this was the exact reason she wouldn’t admit her feelings about me.

  She smiled, but it appeared forced and tired. “I shouldn’t have to worry about you. I thought you were big and ugly enough to look after yourself.”

  I gave her a wink. “Too damn big and ugly to kill, anyway.” I tapped the side of my head. “Can’t make any promises for what’s up here, though.”

  My words generated a laugh from her, and the sound made my chest feel full. I’d mock myself every second of every day if it meant I’d get to hear her laugh.

  I remembered what she’d said about needing to get something to eat. “Let’s go and find somewhere for takeout, and then go to a motel.”

  “What about Harvey’s place? Shouldn’t we be doing something? It feels wrong to steal his car and abandon his apartment. He might have loved ones. Don’t they deserve to know he’s dead?”

  “I’m not sure he had anyone. He never mentioned anyone when I asked him, and no one came to the apartment. He worked, I know that, but I’m sure his business associates can handle a couple of days of being kept in the dark. Taking care of us, of the ones who are still
alive, is more important.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Didn’t you have anything there you want to collect?”

  “All I have are the clothes on my back. I threw out the ones I was wearing when they found me. They were a mess.”

  “We’re both going to need new things, then,” she said. “I don’t have anything either.”

  “Not a problem. I have the credit card. We’ll be fine.” I wondered how I went about paying the balance on it, or even if there was much credit left after the hospital bills. I must have money stashed somewhere. It was frustrating how I got glimpses of small parts of my past, but rarely did they seem to be the important ones.

  We found a drive-thru for fried chicken, and ate sitting in the car, both of us hungrily stuffing greasy chicken and limp fries down our throats. We didn’t speak as we ate, only stopping to take sips of our sodas before going back to eating. Vee managed three pieces of chicken and a large fries before declaring herself beaten. I went on to polish off the remainder, bringing my total up to twice hers.

  “Where do you put it all?” she said, laughing. Color had returned to her cheeks, the food warming her from the inside out. The drained look I’d worried about earlier had vanished, and she seemed more like her old self.

  Not that I was totally sure I could remember what that was yet.

  I patted my stomach. “I had over a week of nothing but hospital food. I’m building myself back up.”

  She suppressed a smile. “Good. I wouldn’t want you wasting away.”

  “No chance of that.”

  I started the car back up, and we drove out of the city to find a strip of motels. Choosing the most respectable looking of the bunch, I went to get us a room. I didn’t bother asking for two rooms, or even enquiring if that was what she wanted. After what had happened in the kitchen, I figured she wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with me. Besides, considering the number of people who wanted her dead, I didn’t want to be separated from her for any longer than necessary. I was sure she was a capable woman and could use a gun, but that didn’t mean I wanted to leave her alone. If something happened to her while I was sleeping right next door, I’d never forgive myself.

  We went into the motel room together. It was clean but basic—a double bed with white sheets, a desk containing a small television. A couple of bedside cabinets were positioned on either side of the bed. Forgettable prints hung as artwork on the walls. I checked the bathroom. The owners of the motel had provided toiletries—soap, shampoo, and a couple of travel toothbrushes and toothpaste. We would be fine.

  “I don’t know about you,” I told her, “but all I can smell is fried chicken. I’m going to take a shower and try to wash it off. Assuming I’m not starting to turn into a piece of chicken, that is. I think I ate enough of it.”

  She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at the cell phone I’d given her. She glanced up at me as I spoke, but I could see she was distracted—not even hearing my lame joke.

  “Sure, I’m going to call Detective Caraway and let him know where I am.”

  “You sure you can trust him?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. He could have had me killed long ago if he wanted. I’m pretty sure he’s clean. He wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if he didn’t want anything other than what I wanted, too.”

  “Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

  I switched on the shower, but left the bathroom door open so I could keep an eye out into the other room. I took Harvey’s gun and placed it on the shelf right outside of the bathroom stall. I wanted it within easy reach, just in case.

  I caught sight of Vee’s reflection in the mirror of the dressing table. She was speaking on the phone now, to the detective, I assumed.

  I pulled my shirt over my head, and then went to work on my pants. I looked up and caught her eye in the mirror. Though still on the phone, she was watching me strip.

  A little thrill of lust went through me, and I felt myself harden for her.

  I forced myself to turn away. I didn’t want her to think I only wanted one thing from her. Besides, I knew she was exhausted. She needed her rest.

  Stepping into the shower, I let the water wash away the dirt of the day.

  Movement came from behind and I spun toward it, automatically reaching for the gun, but then Vee’s naked, lean body stepped into the shower, and I froze.

  She moved into me, her arms slipping around my waist and up my back. Our bodies pressed together and she laid her head on my chest. My arms found their way around her body and I held her. We stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, just two people holding each other while the water thundered down around our bodies.

  A memory flashed into my head. Of standing in a similar situation, but on my own. Though my head had been filled with thoughts of her. She’d been right next door while I’d masturbated in the shower, thinking of her as I did, and then, later, she’d come to my room, and we’d fucked.

  The memory made me catch my breath, causing Vee to look up. “What is it?”

  “I remembered something else. Us, together, in a different motel. We’d been talking and then …”

  The memories kept coming, the things we’d talked about. She’d told me about how she’d killed her sister’s attacker when Nicole was only fourteen. I was starting to remember the reason protecting Nicole was so important to her. I still couldn’t remember the things about my own past that made me who I was—or at least who I had been—but I was starting to remember her and the time we’d spent together.

  Maybe that would be enough.

  Chapter Twenty

  V

  I didn’t want to talk anymore.

  I’d done enough talking for one day. I was pleased X was starting to get his memory back, though a little apprehensive at the same time. Did I think he’d want to leave me if he could remember everything? I didn’t know, but this X wasn’t the same as the one I’d first met. He’d lost a little of his edge, and I wasn’t sure how much I wanted him to get it back. Plus, though it was selfish and childish, I felt like if he couldn’t remember, then we were somewhat reliant on each other. The minute he remembered everything, he could take off to his old life, and I’d be left to deal with everything alone.

  To stop him talking, I pressed my mouth to his and reached between our bodies for his cock. He was already at half-mast, and instantly lengthened and hardened at my touch. The water slicked the way, but didn’t do much in the way of lubrication. I reached behind him and fumbled for the small bottle of body wash I’d seen. I released him for a moment to add a healthy dollop to my palm and then applied it to his dick. The soap allowed my hand to slide up and down his smooth skin, the motion gliding, and making him groan against my lips. He felt amazing, his girth wide enough that my fingers were nowhere near meeting my palm as I pumped him. He was hard as stone, with a silky glove. The head was dark and swollen, the glans straining to meet my stomach, a slight bend upward.

  I wanted to taste him.

  I quickly washed off the soap then dropped to my knees. I edged out of the flow of water slightly, so I didn’t drown as I sucked him off, and then opened my lips and slid my mouth over the top of his glans. He groaned again, his hand reaching down to fist my hair. I looked up at him, admiring the way his dark lashes clung damply together over the top of those piercing blue eyes. Despite the hospital stay, his body was still cut—perhaps even more so from the weight loss—so every muscle in his abdominals and pectorals was defined. His scars littered his skin, more now, since the shooting. I didn’t care. He was still stunningly beautiful to me, and hard as hell.

  And he’d told me he loved me.

  I pushed the thought from my mind and continued to work his cock. Using my hand on the base of him, I pumped him a little in time with the bobbing of my head. I took him as far back in my throat as I could manage without wanting to gag then swirled my tongue around him and pulled back off again. The taste of his salty pre-cum coated my tongue, and I wanted more.

&
nbsp; “Ah, fuck, Vee,” he said, reaching out to steady himself against the shower wall. The tension caused his bicep and forearm to strain, the muscles popping and making him look even sexier. I felt my own arousal tighten between my thighs, the low pressure swirling and building like a twister. I wanted him.

  Even though he may not have wanted me to, I released his dick from my mouth and got to my feet. I kissed him again. “I want you.”

  X spun me around, so I was facing the wall. He shoved his hand between my thighs, discovering me already wet and ready for him. He edged me out of the water, so it wouldn’t wash away my natural lube, and then bent his knees. His cock nudged at my entrance and I stepped my feet farther apart. I pushed my hips back on him, and he breached me, pushing inside me with a long, strong stroke. I moaned, loving the feeling of being full and stretched. My position had my face and tits pushed up against the surrounding tiles, the cold crinkling my nipples. The contrast of heat against my shoulder and hip from the shower, and from X’s body behind me, left my body hyper-sensitized. X’s hands were on my hips, his fingers hard against my flesh. He pulled out and thrust again, the motion forceful, shoving me forward. I pushed back on him, wanting more, and we quickly established a rhythm, hard and fast, the water pouring down around us, thundering in our ears in the small space.

  His mouth pressed against my shoulder, his teeth nipping my skin. His hand reached around my body to rub my clit, propelling me to a whole new level. My mind spun and tipped, my legs growing shaky. My thighs trembled as the pleasure built at my core. I was close, so close. Our wet bodies slapped together, his other hand on my ass, squeezing my flesh. It felt so good, I couldn’t stop myself.

  I shattered around him, my mind going blank as my orgasm broke. My inner muscles pulsed and I felt him jerk inside me, holding me tight against him as he came as well.