Warped (The Mercenary Series Book 2)

by Marissa Farrar

  We twisted in each other’s arms, him pulling from my body. Chilled, we both stood beneath the water again, and I moved into him the way I had when I’d first stepped into the shower, my arms around his body, his around mine, my head on his wet chest. My hair dripped down my back, touching the base of my spine. It was always longer when it was wet.

  X pulled away from me and looked down into my face. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I will be.”

  My heart swelled with emotion for him, and I clung tighter.

  I could forget about everything when we were like this. Just me and him. None of the other shit that went with it. For the first time, I entertained the possibility of a future where it might be just me and him, together. Far away from all of this. My heart hurt at the idea of leaving Nicole, but I couldn’t live the rest of my life pandering to her selfish whims, could I?

  X moved me so I had my back to him, and then he used some shampoo to wash my hair, and the gel to clean my body, his fingers lingering between my legs.

  “Keep going like that,” I warned him, my body already swollen and sensitized from what we’d just done, “and I’m going to want a repeat.”

  But the truth was, I was exhausted, I just needed to sleep now.

  He kissed my shoulder, rinsing the soap from my hair. “You need some rest. We both do. It’s been a long day.”

  We got out of the shower and toweled ourselves dry. We didn’t have much in the way of clothes, so I put my t-shirt and sweatpants back on, forgoing my dirty underwear. X wore his t-shirt and a pair of Jockey shorts. I curled up against him, his arms around me, my head rested on his chest. Nothing felt better in that moment. I never felt safe, yet right at that moment, I did.

  Safe, content. Happy.

  ***

  I woke to the sound of an unfamiliar ring tone.

  I blinked awake, confused. X was already sitting up in bed. He nodded to the desk where I’d left the disposable cell phone he’d bought.

  “You’re ringing.”

  “Shit.”

  Only a couple of people would have that number, and both of them were connected to my father’s court case.

  I moved to clamber out of the bed, but another dizzy spell hit me, forcing me to stop.

  X had already reached the phone and he handed it over to me, frowning as he caught my expression. “Everything all right?”

  I nodded as the vertigo cleared. “Yeah, I just sat up too quickly.”

  I reached to take the phone out of his hand and answered it.

  “Ms. Guerra?” A female voice.

  “Yes, hello. Who’s speaking?”

  “It’s Caroline Bailey.”

  It was the prosecuting lawyer from my father’s case. Her tone was cool and sent ice prickling through my veins. My stomach churned and I flicked a worried glanced to X, who stood with his fingers pressed to his lips, watching me with concern.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Can you come in today? Something has come to light, and I need to speak with you about it urgently.”

  “What’s this about?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t discuss it over the phone. Are you able to meet me in the next hour?”

  I glanced at the LED clock on the television. It was only eight in the morning. If she wanted me to meet her at nine, I’d struggle to somehow make myself presentable and get across the city in time.

  I wanted to get this over with, so I said, “Can we make it ten?”

  “Of course. I’ll see you soon.”

  She hung up, and I lowered the phone from my ear. My hands trembled. “She wants to see me about my father’s case. Something has happened. I don’t think it’s good.”

  “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

  I looked down at my sweats. “I can’t go like this.”

  “We’ll get you some clothes on the way.” He studied my face. “It will be all right.”

  I nodded miserably and went to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and use the toilet. I also put my bra back on, but stuffed the dirty underwear into the trash. I didn’t want to wear them. If I could buy clothes to wear to the courthouse, I could buy new panties as well.

  I waited for X to get himself ready then we went out to the car.

  We stopped by a store on the way, purchasing a smart shirt, and pants, and black court shoes. I used the makeup counter to sneakily apply some gloss to my lips and a little blusher so I didn’t look quite so tired, my face leached of color like a corpse left in water too long. I felt like a homeless person, my mood worsened by the impending dread that filled me at my meeting with Caroline. What was she going to say? Her need to see me had to do with what had happened at Tony’s place, I was sure. Was Nicole all right? Had something happened to my sister? No, I was sure the detective would have contacted me himself if that had been the case. He knew how worried I was about her. I wished I had an answer, but I had to wait.

  I changed in the car, using the back seat to wriggle out of my clothes and put on the new ones. I felt better being smartly dressed again, more able to cope with things, but it didn’t stop the churning in my gut. My hands still shook, and when I climbed back into the passenger seat, X pulled me into a tight hug.

  “It will be fine,” he said against the top of my head. “Take a breath.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He didn’t answer, and I knew I was right. Without saying anything else, he drove me to my appointment at the courthouse. The last time I’d been here, I’d been flanked by Tony’s men. Now, not having them with me made me feel incredibly vulnerable. Though I hated to admit it to myself, a part of me missed having them here to protect me.

  “I’ll be right out here,” X said as I climbed out of the car. “And I’ve still got Harvey’s cell phone, if you need me. The number is already programmed into your phone.”

  I didn’t like the idea of him having a dead man’s phone, worried the number might be traced, but I figured that was a conversation we would have once I was done with the meeting.

  I entered the court, went through security, and then was led through to the same meeting room where I’d thrown up a couple of days earlier.

  Caroline Bailey was already there, and she got to her feet as I entered.

  “Thanks for coming in, Ms. Guerra.”

  “Please, it’s Verity.”

  She gave a tight smile. “Of course. Take a seat. Can we get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.” I just wanted to get on with it. “Please, tell me what this is about.”

  She pressed her red-painted lips together and leaned forward, her forearms placed on the table between us. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but someone has come forward regarding the circumstances surrounding your mother’s death.”

  My stomach tightened. “There are no circumstances. My father killed her. I was there when it happened. I saw the whole thing, remember? That’s the whole reason I’m testifying, so he’ll be sent down for her murder.”

  “Of course, I am aware of all that, but as I said, someone has come forward with new information.”

  My cheeks flared with heat, and then a moment later drained of blood. Who the hell would have come forward? Please don’t let it be Nicole. If she’d come forward and said she was there when our mother died, she’d have made me look like a liar.

  Catherine glanced at her paperwork. “His name is Vincent Thiele.”

  My heart lurched into my throat and the room turned in a slow, dizzying circle.

  “I’m going to assume you know the name?” she said.

  I nodded. “He’s one of my father’s right hand men.”

  “Well, he’s come forward to say he was in the warehouse the night you claim you witnessed your father shooting your mother, only his account of events is somewhat different.”

  I felt removed from the situation, speaking, though I had little control over my body. “What has he said?”

  “He claims it wa
sn’t your father who killed her, but in fact you who pulled the trigger.”

  The world withdrew, and I found myself staring down the end of a long tunnel, the interview room distant and unreachable.

  I was barely aware of Catherine’s voice. “Ms. Guerra? Verity? Can you hear me?”

  I hadn’t passed out, just grown faint, and I managed to force myself back into the room.

  “Yes,” I said, though my voice came out as a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

  “Do you understand the consequences of this man’s story, Verity?”

  I shook my head. “Why would he come in saying that? Isn’t he implicating himself?”

  “Yes, which makes his story more believable.”

  I gave a cold laugh. “That I shot my own mother? The woman I loved more than anyone.” Except for my sister. I’d chosen my mother to die, after all. I couldn’t say she was the one I’d loved the best.

  “Your father would say the same thing,” Catherine replied.

  I put my head in my hands. “Oh, God. Am I going to be arrested?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t have any proof, or even a motive for why you’d want to harm your own mother. We at least had a witness in you, plus he had a motive with your mother’s affair, and we matched the murder weapon to your father, his prints on it, though yours were, too,” she reminded me.

  I nodded. “I picked it up after he killed her. Threatened him with it. It was stupid. I see that now.”

  These were all lies spilling from my mouth, but they were well practiced lies—ones I’d told over and over again, to the police, to the lawyers. I could almost believe them myself if I didn’t have the memory of that day so firmly etched on my brain.

  “The problem we have, Verity, is that the defense has gotten hold of this information. They’ll put him on the stand. They’re painting you to be a troubled teen—with a record of violence and anti-social behavior. It’s all about perception. Something like this will sway the jury. If they get this image of you and end up disliking you, they’ll never give a guilty verdict for your father.”

  My eyes widened in disbelief. “They can’t believe someone like Vincent, surely?”

  “It doesn’t matter if they believe him or not. It will have planted the seed of doubt in their minds, and that is enough.”

  “What do you mean, it’s enough? Enough for what? For the jury to find him innocent?”

  “Possibly.” She gave a long sigh and sat back, making deliberate eye contact with me. “The thing is, Verity, it doesn’t even matter if they believe you or not, because I can’t use you as a witness with this kind of information against you. I’m sorry, but I can’t take this case to court. I’m not going to jeopardize the case by putting an unreliable witness on the stand. It’s better to drop the case than take it to trial and lose.”

  My mouth fell open. “I’m not unreliable!”

  “In the jury’s eyes you will be, and if I put you on the stand, the defense counsel will tear you to shreds. Your prints were on the murder weapon, there’s now an eye witness against you. It’s enough for reasonable doubt, and with reasonable doubt, we can’t get your father convicted.”

  “Please,” I said, panic rising up inside me. “Please, don’t do this. He has to go down for what he did. He has to!”

  “I’m so sorry, Verity, but he won’t go down for this one. But men like your father don’t stay clean for long. I’m sure he’ll screw up again sometime soon, and we’ll be able to get him then.”

  My dizziness had returned. “So what are you saying? That he’s just going to walk free?”

  She nodded, her expression solemn. “Yes, I’m afraid that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “No, no, no.” I stood, shoving my chair away. My father would be walking the streets again. He’d come after me. He’d go after Nicole.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, shaking my head and backing away. “I have to go.”

  “Verity, wait, please. Go and talk to Detective Caraway. See if they’ll put you back in the program, or at least relocate you. I understand this is a shock—”

  “You don’t understand at all,” I interrupted. “He’ll kill me. He’ll track me to the ends of the earth, and he’ll kill me.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  X

  I figured Vee would be a while, so I parked the car and went to a coffee shop to get breakfast. I had Harvey’s cell phone in my pocket, so she could call me when she finished, though I guessed I should look at getting rid of it soon. Someone must be missing the man, even if it was only a work colleague. His phone was one of the first things they’d try when someone decided to start looking for him, and I didn’t want to be in possession of it when they did.

  I was worried about Vee. I remembered her story now—how she’d been forced to choose between her mother and sister about who would live, and then made to shoot one of them. No wonder she wanted to see her father go down for a very long time. I still couldn’t remember my own childhood, but I assumed the scars covering my torso had something to do with it, so I doubted it was anything to get misty-eyed about.

  Ordering a hot breakfast sandwich and coffee, I went and sat at the bar in the window, figuring I’d be able to see Vee if she came out looking for me. I drank my coffee and ate my food, unable to think of anything but her. My memories were filled with the time I’d spent with her. Her skin, her voice, her taste. I was consumed with thoughts of her, but I didn’t know if that was purely because of the way I felt about her, or if it was because I couldn’t remember anything else.

  A young blonde waitress came over to refill my coffee cup. She smiled at me prettily, lingered a little too long, asked me if there was anything else I needed. I told her no, only the check.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said. “Are you here on business?”

  A crazy part of me wanted to tell her she was speaking to a killer. I wanted to see that spark of unease and fear in her eyes. A girl like her wouldn’t understand someone like me. I’d freak her out, just as I should. She only saw the muscles and blue eyes, and thought I was someone she was attracted to, but she didn’t see what lay beneath.

  Vee did, though. She saw every little part of me, and accepted it. Not only accepted it, seemed to cherish it, understand it. She recognized in me a darkness that was in her, too. It wasn’t every day a freak like me found a soul mate, but I had in her.

  “I’m waiting for someone,” I told the waitress. “She’ll be here any minute.”

  “Oh, right, of course.” I’d flustered her. “I’ll bring your check right over.”

  She hurried away, perhaps picking up on the fact there was something not quite right with me. I knew of at least a couple of people I’d been paid to kill—the man I’d killed for Harvey, and, of course, I’d been paid to kill Vee, though I hadn’t gone through with it. I wondered how many other lives I’d extinguished with my own hands. Did I enjoy it—that feeling of power at taking a life? Did it make me feel as though it lifted me above the common man? Did it make me feel God-like?

  Vee was taking longer than I would have liked. I hoped everything was all right.

  Not wanting to lurk in the coffee shop any longer, I paid the bill and prepared myself to leave.

  A man walked past, heavy set with a bald head, in his forties, I guessed. He glanced casually into the window of the café, but the moment his gaze landed on me, his eyes widened and he drew to a sudden stop.

  My heartrate rocketed. Fuck. This man knew me, I was sure of it. And I was sure I recognized him from somewhere, too, though I couldn’t place him. It must have been from before I’d met Vee, before I’d started to remember.

  He jerked his head away, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and kept walking. He didn’t want me to know he’d seen me. This man wasn’t a friend—not that I thought I had many of those. I couldn’t just let him walk away. I’d be letting a potential threat vanish, and I wouldn’t have a clue what direction I needed t
o be looking when I was watching over my shoulder.

  I leaped to my feet and hurried to the door, shoving someone out of the way in my effort to leave. I ignored the profanity that followed me. The man’s large bulk was farther down the street, hurrying in his effort to get away. He pushed though the pedestrians, his pace quickened.

  I was smaller than he was, and moved faster, but even so, I was losing him. He did an abrupt turn to the left, vanishing from view.

  “Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, and received an evil glare from a young mother pushing by with a toddler in a stroller.

  Picking up my pace, I broke into a run. I followed the same route the man had taken and swerved around the corner—

  Something big and heavy slammed into me from behind. The ground rose to meet me and I hit it with both the force of my own body, and the one now on top of me. I was facedown, a useless position. I drove my elbow up, but the gut it met with barely budged. Hands grabbed my arms, wrenching them behind my back, and shoving me harder against the ground. We were hidden from view from the main road. Passersby would see us, but only if they deliberately turned their heads to look.

  “Where is she?” the man spat above me.

  “Who?” I said, being deliberately obtuse.

  “You know who. Vee. You were with her when you came by the bar and took my truck.”

  I remembered where I knew him from now. Johnny. The guy who’d employed Vee when she’d been in Witness Protection. He was also on Tony’s payroll.

  “I haven’t seen her for weeks,” I lied. “I got shot. I’ve been in the hospital with amnesia. Check my shoulder if you don’t believe me.”

  “I’m not taking your clothes off, dude.”

  “Fine, don’t,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just get the fuck off me.” This guy was too big. I was strong, but his entire weight pressed me into the ground so I couldn’t move.

  “Tony said she’d taken off. Left or perhaps taken by her father’s men. But now you show up, right around the corner from the court where her father is standing trial. Do you really think that is a coincidence? You know where she is. I know you do.”