He opened his mouth to deny it, but he couldn’t. Beauregard had only spoken truth, which pissed Axel off even more.
“I can see now we’ve been remiss when it comes to those boys,” he said, leaning against his desk. “We should have taken out the trash before we began this operation.”
“Ya think? Do you have a plan, or you wanna sit there and philosophize some more?”
“That depends on what you’re prepared to do.” His wide grin gave Axel the shivers. “I think instilling fear would be a good start. But let’s turn our attention to something a bit more urgent.”
“And what’s that?”
“The little matter of your betrayal.”
Axel sucked in a breath. Did he mean Charlie? And the plan to empty his vault? His hands curled into fists.
If he’d so much as touched a hair on her head…
Beauregard chuckled. “My, my…look at that anger. So, I reckon she wasn’t lying about the two of you. It must be love.” He rounded his desk, laying a hand against the vault. “Relax, your girlfriend is fine. Well, I think she is, anyway. Charlie’s a resourceful woman. She’ll do what needs to be done, or I wouldn’t have put her up to the task. But in hindsight, she could use little backup.”
“What task?” Axel stood up, leaning over the desk. He’d never been this on edge before. He’d always thought he didn’t have it in to kill a man. But Beauregard, with all the havoc he’d wrought in Axel’s life, had pushed him to the brink. And putting Charlie in danger was the flashpoint.
If anything happened to her, Beauregard was a dead man.
“Where. Is. She?” Axel bit out. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Beauregard’s eyes flared. “There it is! I was wondering if you had it in you.”
“Had what?”
“That killer instinct. You’ll need that to go after Cotton, as well as the Raptors.”
Axel frowned, sidetracked by the change of subject. “That’s how you want to handle the stolen drugs problem? Kill your boss?” It would solve one aspect, but they still had the Raptors and the cartel to handle.
“You’re missing the point. As usual.”
He didn’t have a clue what Beauregard was babbling about. “And then you happen to move a step up the rung in the Dixie Mafia, too. How convenient.” He was sick of Beauregard and his schemes. It took every ounce of will not to reach for his gun and blow a hole in the fucker’s temple. “But I’m not going to do your dirty work for you. Now, where is Charlie?!”
Beauregard coolly pulled a pistol from his desk drawer. “Where’s Charlie? Killing Cotton, I’d expect. That’s the price of her betrayal, I’m afraid. And we both know she was working with you, even though she refused to sell you boys out. Honestly, you can’t buy that kind of loyalty. And believe me…I’ve tried.” His smile was nasty.
“You sent Charlie to kill Cotton?” Axel demanded.
“Is there an echo in here? Yes. However, Cotton’s the man who ordered the hit on her father. He’s actually responsible for Mr. Nash’s untimely death. So, I’d say it worked out well for both of us.” Then his brow knitted in mock concern. “Oh, now, don’t worry. I gave her a gun and the alarm code for his home in Dallas.” He pulled out his phone and thumbed the keyboard. “And now I’ve sent the code to you, too. “
Axel numbly felt his phone buzzing against his thigh. He was on overload. The woman he loved was in danger. And so was Coyote. The Raptors were trying to start a war. And the cartel would finish it, when they discovered the heroin had gone missing.
It was too much to process.
Axel couldn’t imagine Charlie killing anyone. She’d rob the man blind and dance on his grave, but she wouldn’t be the one to put him there.
Axel had to do this for her. He would bear the burden of taking Cotton’s life.
He met Beauregard’s blank stare. “You planned this,” he accused.
“You give me too much credit. I couldn’t have anticipated all these events. You know,” he mused. “Charlie seems to be a woman with many talents, but I don’t suspect killin’ is one of them,” he said, echoing Axel’s earlier thought. “But I believe you might be up to the challenge.”
“I’m going to kill you for this,” Axel said softly.
Beauregard didn’t look concerned. “Funny. Earlier, you assured me you weren’t a killer. I was right about you.” He pulled an antique pocket watch from his coat. “I’d love to talk, but it’s nearly nightfall. And it’s time for my very public, alibi-worthy appearance in town. If you hurry, you might be able to rush in and save her. And I’d get going if I were you. She has a head start, and Cotton has a bit of a fetish.” He laid a hand on either side of his throat. “He likes to choke people.” His lips twitched. “Funny story, he tried to strangle Charlie a few weeks ago.”
Axel thought about the way she’d clutched her neck in the diner and he went cold, like all the blood was draining from his body. He raced to the door. And the next thing he knew, he was on Highway 20, headed to Dallas, doing twice the legal speed limit.
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlie might’ve left Hell that morning, but she was still in it. Figuratively speaking. Time felt like it was slowing down, as if the day had taken years. She’d spent most of her time parked in the truck along the backside of the property, so she could observe Cotton’s home and his staff. He had a corner lot on a sleepy street, which made things much easier. Cotton had probably wanted a less visible place for his criminal activity.
But it worked for her.
And while he had money, he didn’t have good taste. The house was a sickly green color and all the floors had wraparound balconies, so it resembled a maze, or a series of sideways hamster wheels, wrapped around the floors. Behind the mansion was a stone garden, dotted with disturbing statues of naked women lying in various poses, as though asleep.
Or unconscious. Say, after being choked?
She nervously rubbed the necklace around her throat, and then removed it. She wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do it again.
His household staff didn’t live-in, and they’d taken off around nine in the evening. Charlie waited until a lone light on the second floor went out. She assumed that was Cotton’s bedroom. A sneak attack while he slept seemed to be the best bet. She doubted she could do this if she had to face him, talk to him. She waited half an hour for him to fall asleep.
Charlie crouched by the bushes flanking the house as she got closer to the keypad by the backdoor. After she input the code, the light on the keypad flashed green and she walked inside. She gulped down breaths and she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She felt jittery, like she’d had too much coffee.
She waited until her eyes adjusted to the dark then crept up the main staircase, going slowly. After she arrived on the second-floor landing, she counted the rooms, until she found the one she’d observed outside. Charlie eased the bedroom door open to find his prone form on the king-sized bed in the darkened room.
Cotton was curled on his side in flannel pajamas. Despite the way he’d gripped her necklace, he didn’t look like a killer when he slept. He could be someone’s grandfather. And her stomach knotted. Could she actually do this? Kill someone?
Screwing up her courage, Charlie gripped the gun where it rested in the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. But her fingertips felt numb, as though she’d dropped her hand in icy water. Her hand shook.
Charlie stared at Cotton. This was the man who’d ordered her father’s death. This was the man who’d gotten excited over choking her.
But she still didn’t want to kill him.
Charlie wanted the judicial system to punish him. Or God. But Charlie couldn’t. No, she wouldn’t. To hell with Beauregard and his ultimatum. She’d run if she had to, but she wouldn’t let that bastard turn her into a killer.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t rob Cotton Krug. He’d earned it.
Charlie spotted his wallet on the nightstand, and that looked like a gr
eat place to start. He deserved to pay in some way for Scott’s death, even if it wouldn’t be nearly enough.
She tiptoed towards the bed.
And a gun clicked, but it wasn’t hers.
Oh, crap.
Cotton sat up in bed and flipped the switch on the bedside lamp.
Charlie blinked, momentarily blinded by the surge of light. Her eyes slowly became accustomed and she took in the lime green and lemonade yellow room. He pulled the gun from beneath his covers, resting it on his lap. And she forgot how to breathe.
“How did you…when did you…?” she sputtered.
“I was playin’ possum, wanted to see what you’d do. I heard you comin’ down the hall, sugar.” He gestured with his gun to the pocket of her hoodie. “Throw down your piece.”
Charlie hesitated as she pressed one hand against her throat. The other still clutched the gun in her pocket.
“Don’t be stupid, sugar. I see the way you’re clutchin’ that thing. Like you’re scared to death. You don’t have a clue how to shoot, do you?” He raised his weapon. “I assure you, I don’t have the same problem. Put it down before I blow a hole clean through your middle.”
Charlie carefully placed it on the floor then backed away from him, arms raised. “This is all a big misunderstanding. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Yeah? Well, looks like you got it anyway.” Cotton got out of bed and sidled closer to her. “Hold it right there, young lady.” He took a good look at her. “Well, now. I remember that pretty face. What a surprise. Ms. Nash. What brings you to my neck of the woods? Is Beauregard sending maids to do his dirty work now?”
Charlie hesitated, searching for the best possible thing to say. “Actually, yes,” she said, throwing Beauregard under the bus. “He wants you dead, and that’s the only reason I’m here.”
He shook his head. “I think there’s more to it than that.”
Charlie paused, wondering if a lie would serve her better than the truth. “I have my own reason for being here.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sore about that little necklace fiasco. I was just havin’ a little fun.”
Sore? Sore?! Charlie balled up her fist. Yeah, she wouldn’t mind if this bastard died. She’d be doing the world a favor. Charlie raised her chin, looking him in the eye. And the truth came tumbling out. “No. You killed my father, Scott Nash.”
He frowned, his brows drawing together. “Who now? Scott Nash? I don’t recall anyone by that name, but I confess there’ve been quite a few bodies, sugar. You’ll have to jog my memory.” He moved forward a couple steps.
And Charlie retreated. Cotton had killed so many people, he didn’t remember them all? For a moment, she wished she would’ve pulled the trigger. Just so she could watch his lifeless body hit the floor.
Charlie continued to inch toward the door. He was old. She could outrun him, if she had a distraction. She glanced around the room, looking for something, anything to throw at him. “He, uh, did a bank job for you,” she said. “Roughly ten years ago.”
“I remember it now,” he said with a wink. “Well, I remember the money, anyway. So, your daddy’s a thief?”
“Was a thief,” Charlie bit out.
“Yes, I ordered Beauregard to take care of him for me.” He whistled. “But you’re so cute when you’re mad. Look at you. Flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes. What’s the matter? Do you miss your daddy?”
Charlie backed away, refusing to take the bait. Giving in to her anger would give him the upper hand. She had to focus on a way out of there.
He walked closer, gun pointed at her head. There was maybe a foot between their bodies. “So, Daddy’s little girl is getting vengeance for her father.” Cotton laughed. “Or tryin’ to, anyway.” He licked his lips. “Well, sugar, I’ll tell you what. After I’m through having a bit of fun with you, I’ll send you to see him.”
And then Cotton grabbed her.
***
Axel carefully entered Cotton’s house after using the code.
When he’d pulled up, he’d found one of the club’s trucks parked down the street. Charlie must’ve boosted it to get there. But there was no sign of her in the truck or around the perimeter of the house. He couldn’t shake a really bad feeling. Some sixth Horsemen sense that told him he didn’t have so much as a minute to spare.
The house was quiet. Too quiet. Axel briefly fantasized about killing Beauregard anyway, just for being a dick. But he’d come here to kill Cotton. As much as he didn’t want to follow in his father’s twisted footsteps, he’d do whatever it took to save Charlie. She was worth the guilt.
As he made his way upstairs, he heard a man’s voice. “You like that, bitch? Come on, gag for me.”
Axel took the stairs two at a time then vaulted down the hallway. His legs wouldn’t move fast enough. At the end of the hall, a light burned.
He planted a foot on the door and kicked it open even wider. Cotton didn’t move. Or even glance away from Charlie’s prone body. Their feet faced the headboard and Charlie’s head was positioned near the foot of the bed. She lay beneath Cotton and his hands were wrapped around her throat. She flailed beneath him, hands reaching for his shoulders.
“Let her go. Now.” Axel raised his gun. He’d attached a silencer from his saddlebag.
“I don’t know who you are, son, or how you got in here. But you’d best be on your way. This ain’t got nothing to do with you,” Cotton said.
Axel cocked the pistol. “Get off her.”
“Does this little bitch belong to you? Is that it?” Cotton asked. “Come any closer and I’ll break her neck.”
Axel shot Cotton in the chest, twice, spattering the bed and Charlie with his blood. The man fell forward, collapsing on top of her.
She gasped, sucking in air.
Axel rolled the body off her and it thunked down to the floor. Then, he hauled her into his arms. “Charlie, are you okay? Talk to me. Charlie!?”
She coughed and sputtered, holding her neck. She had reddish bruises on her throat, and her eyes were bloodshot. “Axel?” she asked hoarsely. “It’s you? I’m not imagining things?”
“Yes, it’s me, Robin. I came for you. Are you okay?” He frantically checked her out, peeling the hoodie away from her throat, but she didn’t seem to have any other injuries. “Did he…did he rape you?” She still had her jeans on, but her shirt and jacket were rucked up.
“No, he…” She stopped as a coughing fit overtook her. “Tried. But he didn’t get a chance.” She stared at the blood-stained body on the floor. “Are you sure he’s dead?”
“He’d dead, baby. I promise.”
Charlie started to cry and he lifted her off the bed, taking her downstairs and away from the carnage. “I’m sorry,” she said, burying her head in his chest.
He sat down in an armchair, cradling her. Axel wasn’t sure which one of them was shaking more. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for? I’m the one who should apologize. I should’ve shut this thing with Beauregard down.”
“No, you don’t understand. Beauregard caught me. I never got a chance to empty the vault. I couldn’t save your mother. It’s my fault the job fell through,” she croaked.
“Don’t worry about that now. We’ll find another way,” he whispered. It’d been a long shot anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d threatened you?” he asked, kissing her forehead, her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me Cotton tried to choke you earlier?” He couldn’t keep his hands off her, had to assure himself she was okay. “And that he ordered you to kill Cotton? I would’ve helped you.”
“I couldn’t,” Charlie said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t let…”
“Let what, Robin?”
But she changed the topic. “You’re a good man, Axel. I’m glad that asshole’s dead, but I didn’t want you to kill him.” Charlie started to cough again.
“Shh now. Rest your voice.”
“No…I…” Charlie broke off, her voice ragged. “And I couldn’t let Cotton kill
you, too. He took Scott away from me, and I couldn’t let him take you, too.”
“Shh, we’re both okay.” Axel kissed her forehead. And that’s when the quote Royal had spouted off hit him smack dab between the eyes. “Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil,” he said, finally getting it.
“What?” Charlie asked. “I don’t understand.”
“We’ll talk about everything when you’re feeling better, Robin. You’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’m going to call the brothers. We’ll take care of the body and clean up the evidence. And Duke will examine you.
He wrapped his arms even tighter around Charlie. They were both alive. And together. That’s all that mattered for the moment.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Three days later, Axel sat in a booth across from Charlie at Hades. It was nearly eight in the morning, and she’d had a couple of cups of coffee, so she was awake. She slathered a short stack of pancakes with maple syrup and butter.
He didn’t feel much like eating. Instead, he nursed his own coffee. He still hadn’t had the talk with her.
Over the past few days, his time had been filled with patrols and trying to get a bead on Coyote. They still hadn’t figured out where he was. The Raptors had gone to ground. While Coyote hadn’t turned up, neither had his body, which was good news. There was a slim hope that he was still alive. Steele was recuperating, and he’d given them every scrap of info he could remember.
But it still wasn’t enough.
The cartel didn’t know their heroin went missing, but it was only a matter of time until they figured it out.
Axel hadn’t had any alone time with Charlie since he’d killed Cotton. The brothers had taken the body to the desert and cleaned up his house. Axel had waited for the guilt to hit him over Cotton’s death, but the truth was, he didn’t feel any. It had to be done, for Charlie and for the good of the club. At least they wouldn’t be making anymore heroin runs south of the border.
Charlie’s injuries were healing. Duke had checked her out then took her to the hospital for more testing, which she’d passed with no problems. Her bruises had turned a pinkish purple, and she didn’t have trouble speaking anymore.
Hell on Wheels (Four Horsemen MC Book 6) Page 24
