The Choice She Made

by Marissa Farrar

  “I changed my mind. I’d rather help you. I know people who work in your father’s circles, remember. I could find out who’s on the other end of that phone, and take care of them for you. At least then you wouldn’t have to run. Not yet anyway.”

  “Not yet?”

  “Your father is going to learn you’re still alive, if he hasn’t already. The good thing about him is that it will take information longer to reach him because he’s behind bars. I can contact your father and tell him you’re dead and then kill whoever is behind the two dead guys for you. It would buy enough time for you to make your getaway, and if your father thinks you’re dead, you could still make a reappearance for his trial and testify against him.”

  She nibbled on her mouth, her tongue flicking out over the plump flesh and her little white teeth pressing into her lower lip as she considered what I had said. I took the slightest sliver of hope in the fact she was thinking about it and hadn’t just cut me off.

  Eventually, she spoke. “I can’t trust you.”

  I risked a smile, fixing her with my eyes. “I know. You don’t trust anyone.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what are your alternatives? You run for the rest of your life, or you use me and deal with the threat.”

  “You could try to kill me the minute I cut you loose.”

  “I could. But you could also be shot the moment you walk from your front door.”

  “I don’t care about my own life. All I wanted was to be able to testify against my father, and to keep my sister safe.”

  “If you set me free, you’ll be able to do both.”

  She laced her hands into her thick, silky hair, and squeezed her fists tight. The action must have hurt, but she didn’t relent, almost as though she was punishing herself.

  “I can’t deal with this—with any of it! I just need Nickie to come home.” She started pacing, back and forth across the small space. “Where the fuck is she? She should be here by now.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” I replied, staying calm. “And when she gets here, what are you going to tell her about me, and the two dead men over there?”

  She released her hair and turned to face me. “The truth. At least then she’ll take me seriously.”

  “Why isn’t she taking you seriously?”

  “Because she’s a teenager and thinks she knows everything.”

  A high flush had appeared in her cheeks, and I imagined she’d look similar to this after sex, though hopefully a little less tense. She must have seen the expression on my face.

  “Is something amusing to you?” she snapped.

  “Not at all. I was just thinking you look sexy when you’re angry.”

  Her eyes flashed with fury. “You seriously think that’s an appropriate comment? I’m worried for the lives of me and my sister, and you’re telling me I look sexy? Do you think some pathetic compliment is going to make me release you? In fact, you saying that has made me want to leave you tied up forever.”

  Ah, so she had been considering letting me go. I took a tiny amount of satisfaction in that, even if my stupid mouth had gotten me in trouble. But for some reason I wanted her to know what I thought of her. We hadn’t gotten off to the best start, admittedly, and maybe I was insane for even thinking it, but I thought she might be starting to warm to me.

  She let out a growl and turned away. “Where the fuck is Nickie?”

  “Maybe she changed her mind and isn’t coming.”

  “If she does that, whoever the hell is after us won’t need a hit man. I’ll kill her myself.”

  I had to hide another smile.

  She noticed and stopped to glare at me. “What’s so damn amusing?”

  “Sorry. I’ll try to look more contrite.”

  “So you should. You’re the one strapped to a chair with two stab wounds.”

  “Yes, but I don’t have half of New York wanting me dead.”

  Okay, that wasn’t completely the truth, but I didn’t think we needed to get into details just yet.

  “Hey,” I said. “I know you have more pressing concerns, but can I get a drink of water? My mouth is like a desert, and if you’re going to run off and leave me like this, I’d at least like some chance of not dying of thirst within the next twenty-four hours.”

  The lack of water had left me thirsty, but it had also meant I’d not needed to take a piss since she’d tied me up. I knew that relief had come to an end, though, as my bladder grew heavy and uncomfortable. The water would add to that pressure, but I figured I’d still rather piss myself than endure the excruciating discomfort of going any length of time without a drink.

  She turned to me with a closed-lipped smile. “You really think you deserve any comfort? You came into my home to kill me, remember?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t. I saved you. Remember?”

  She hadn’t made up her mind about me. I could see the indecision on her face. That was all I needed, just enough belief that I might be one of the perhaps not good, but better guys, and she would set me free, or at least give me some chance at survival.

  “Water,” she said eventually. “That’s it, though. I’m not going to be making you fucking coffee next.”

  I suppressed a smile. “I can’t imagine you’d make me coffee even if we were dating.”

  “I don’t date either,” she said. “I screw who I want, but don’t expect any of the romantic crap that goes with it.”

  I gave her a wink. “Got it.”

  She glared at me. “That wasn’t supposed to be an instruction manual.”

  “Sounded like you were giving me some tips.”

  “Well, I wasn’t. So quit it.”

  She gave a huff of exasperation and turned away from me to walk toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” I asked her.

  “To get you some damn water,” she called back, without bothering to look back around at me.

  I watched her ass and slender legs as she walked back up the stairs, the narrow circumference of her waist. I’d bet I’d be able to get my fingers right around that waist, if my hands weren’t taped together, of course.

  My desire to see her dead was fading by the second. I had the feeling Vee alive and kicking would prove to be much more fun.

  Chapter Fifteen

  V

  I WAS GLAD I had my back to him so he didn’t see the smile trying to tweak my cheeks. It wasn’t often I met someone who gave as good as they got, but X did. I’d stabbed him twice, and tied him to a chair, but still he was flirting with me. Either he was stupidly confident, or he was just plain stupid.

  I hoped it was the first.

  As I headed into the kitchen, my pocket buzzed.

  Shit.

  I’d forgotten I didn’t get any coverage in the cellar. I cursed myself. Nickie might have been trying to get hold of me, and I’d been distracted by the hit man. But when I reached into the back pocket of my jeans, I realized the phone that was buzzing wasn’t my own, but the one I’d taken off the dead body of one of the men.

  My heart instantly lurched into my throat, and I stopped, reaching out to the wall beside me to steady myself. My heart pattered in my chest. Should I answer it? I couldn’t speak if I did—doing so would reveal myself to be alive. I kicked myself. I should have sent some kind of message before, pretending the men were still alive. But then that would have provoked some kind of response, something I hadn’t known how to handle.

  Problem was, I still didn’t.

  I was filled with the ridiculous urge to race back down to the cellar and ask X what I should do. But I couldn’t. Not only because I shouldn’t start thinking I could trust him enough to give me the correct response, but also because if I went into the cellar, I would lose coverage again.

  Fuck.

  I couldn’t waste any more time. I hit the answer button.

  Without speaking, I lifted the phone to my ear.

  A male voice said, “What did you do to my men?”
r />   I hesitated, not knowing what to say. Whoever was on the end of the line must have known something had happened to them. After all, I’d answered their phone.

  “I’ll assume they’re dead,” the voice continued. “That wasn’t in the plan.”

  What was the plan? I yelled in my head.

  On the other end of the line, there was the briefest of pauses, a slight rasp and a shuffle, and then a different voice came on the line, one that froze the blood in my veins.

  “Oh, God, Vee. What did you do?”

  Then she was gone.

  “Nickie!” I screamed into the phone. “Nickie, where are you?”

  But the man’s voice replaced that of my sister, and he laughed. “Come and get her, and then you’ll find out.”

  The line went dead.

  The number had been blocked so I couldn’t call it back. My jaw was rigid with fear for Nickie’s life and anger at myself. I should have gotten in my car and gone to pick her up. What the hell had I been thinking? I’d known she might have been in some kind of danger, and yet I’d chosen to be here, babysitting a goddamned hit man rather than out taking care of my only family.

  With a scream, I slammed my balled fist into the wall, pain shattering up my knuckles and through my arm. It made me grit my teeth and bend over, clutching my hand against my body, a flurry of curses trapped behind my tight lips.

  “What’s going on up there?”

  The shout of the man I had trapped downstairs.

  My eyes burned, but the rest of me felt ice cold, as though all the blood had drained from my extremities to service my internal organs. Once more I had that strange sensation of not quite being a part of myself, as though I was watching this all from a distance.

  On shaking legs, holding the phone in one hand, I slowly took the stairs back down into the cellar. X was still in the chair, leaning forward, as though the slight increase in proximity would help him learn what was going on.

  “They have Nickie,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

  “Who does?”

  “I don’t know, but whoever it is has something to do with those two.” I gestured toward the pile of bodies.

  X took a breath. “Right. That’s it. You need to let me go now.”

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  “I’ll help you get her back, but you need to cut this damned tape.”

  “I can’t let you go. You’ll kill me.”

  “No, I won’t. I’ll help you.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because if your father finds out I was here and that I let someone take your sister, he will cut off my hands and feet and leave me to die somewhere no one will find me.”

  That was exactly the sort of thing I could imagine my father doing.

  I stared at him. “Oh.”

  “Your father wanted Nickie back,” X continued. “He wanted you dead, too, but he also wanted her home again. I already told you that he thinks you were a bad influence on her.”

  I couldn’t help the cold laugh that burst from my lungs. “Oh, yes, of course. I’m the bad influence.”

  “Listen to me. Tell me exactly what they said to you on the phone.”

  I took a breath. “He said, ‘what did you do to my men?’ and something about it not being in the plan. Then he put Nickie on the phone, but only long enough for her to ask me what I’d done—” My voice broke. Even when I’d tried to save her life, she still blamed me for everything. I paused, composing myself. “Then he said, ‘come and get her, and then you’ll find out where she is.’”

  X nodded. “Okay, so they want you to find her, or at least come looking for her. Maybe they’re considering you to be more of an adversary than they first expected, so they’re putting you in an unknown situation rather than the other way around. They want to be the ones in control.”

  “You keep saying ‘they,’” I said.

  “This isn’t down to a lone wolf,” he replied. “Think about it. There are already two of them dead over there, and now someone else is calling you, and I doubt that person is working alone either. There are two ways to be in this job—solitary, like me, so that you slip under the radar and you have little contact with anyone, and that’s what keeps you safe. Or else you surround yourself with likeminded people and watch each other’s backs.”

  “So, a gang?”

  He nodded again. “Yeah, a gang—most likely a rival mafia outfit.”

  “And now they have my sister.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I turned on him. “No, you’re not. How could you be? You don’t give a fuck about us. Why should you? You don’t even know us, and it was barely twenty-four hours ago that you were planning on shooting me!”

  “A lot can change in a day.”

  “Yeah, you got that right. This time yesterday, we were safe, and I didn’t have a hit man and two dead bodies in my cellar. Yesterday, I’d thought I’d get to testify against my father, and that we’d go on to live our lives. Now I don’t know if we’re even going to be alive in another twenty-four hours.”

  The question was, if I released X, was that likely to increase our chance of survival or decrease it? If I didn’t release him, what would I do? I could drive to New York and start asking some questions, but chances were I’d end up dead within a few hours. Word would get back to my father quickly enough, and even if it didn’t, there were still enough of his guys around who would know he wanted me dead and would carry out the job for him. I’d most likely end up with a bullet through my mouth, a sign that I was a rat.

  That thought made my heart hurt. A lot of those guys had seen me grow up, had bounced me on their knees when I was little and twirled my pigtails and called me sweetheart. That they would see me dead hurt almost as much as what my father had done, or made me do.

  If I released X and he turned on me right away, I’d be dead and there would be no one around to help my sister.

  If I didn’t release him, I would most likely end up dead anyway.

  But what if I released him and he didn’t kill me? Then I’d have backup, and someone who knew his way around this business. The thought of having this intense, blue-eyed man on my side also tugged at something in my soul. I’d never had a confidant before, someone I could bounce ideas off, someone who would have my back. This smart-mouthed, handsome, dangerous man attracted me, even though I knew he shouldn’t, and now he was offering his help.

  Was I really going to turn my back on his offer and leave him here, most likely, to die?

  Perhaps it was what he deserved, but by doing so was I also robbing my sister of her only chance of getting out of this alive? I couldn’t stand the thought of what might be happening to her at the hands of those men. Yes, she was seventeen, and acted tougher and more independent than she actually was, but she was still mentally not much more than a child.

  “You can keep hold of the gun.”

  X’s voice broke me from my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “If you’re worried about me trying something, you can keep hold of the gun to protect yourself.”

  I looked over to the two dead bodies. Both men had had weapons which were now on the shelving unit upstairs. The people we were going after would be as fully armed as those two had been, if not more so. If I was going to trust X enough to help me, I’d need to trust him with a gun as well. He needed to be armed if we were going to stand any chance of getting Nickie back.

  “What about my father?” I asked. “If you were frightened of him enough to take on the job to kill me, why aren’t you afraid of what he’s going to do when he finds out you helped me instead?”

  He’d straightened at my accusation of him being frightened. “First of all, there’s a difference between being protective of your own life and being frightened. Secondly, I think the ship has sailed on being concerned about what your father will do. I’ve already failed on that front, by you still being alive and by Nickie being taken. Any retribution c
oming to me will arrive whether I help you now or not. In fact, saving your sister might be the only thing that will stop seven bells of shit falling on my head when he learns about this mess.”

  I studied his face. He held my gaze, unflinching.

  “Why don’t you just run as soon as I cut you loose?” I threw out, wanting to make sure I had every base covered. “I’m sure you know how to go into hiding—and you’d probably do a better job of it than the damn U.S. Marshals did for us.”

  “Because if I did that, I would never get to see your face again.”

  His words caused my heart to flip, and my breath caught. I searched his expression for any kind of insincerity, but he just continued to watch me, as though wanting to judge my reaction to his words as much as I was trying to figure out his. No, I couldn’t let this man get to me. He’d say whatever he could to get free from that chair, and I couldn’t allow myself to be drawn into fantasy.

  Forcing myself from the moment, I lifted my eyebrows. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  He grinned and the tension broke. “Can’t I just say I want to help you now, and leave it at that?”

  I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, but I reached for the knife still in my jeans pocket from when he’d tried to escape, and then, hoping I wouldn’t live to regret it, bent to cut his ankles free.

  Chapter Sixteen

  X

  I LOOKED DOWN at the top of Vee’s dark, shiny hair as she used the knife I’d dropped to saw away at the thick black tape wrapped around my right ankle. Her hair shimmered with her movements, and the crouch she was in offered me a direct view right down the front of her t-shirt. The gentle curve of the tops of her breasts appeared soft and flawless, a beautiful shade of caramel to go with her black hair and dark brown eyes. My palms itched to slide my hands across her skin, to lace my fingers in that dark hair. I couldn’t pretend that every single cell of my body didn’t crave her in some way. She was completely unlike any woman I’d ever come across, and I wanted her. I wanted to taste her mouth, and run my tongue over every inch of her skin, and experience what it felt like when I pushed inside her.