"But why the two of you specifically."
I shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know, maybe we were the only ones available? We don’t often question orders unless they make no sense. But this was just a disturbance at a nightclub, not the kind of thing you send detectives in for unless it's something serious."
"And Jimmy Randolph just happened to be there, partying?" he challenged. "With his dad and a bunch of bodyguards?"
I felt something tighten and freeze in my chest. "Coincidence?" but my voice wasn’t convincing, even to me.
It was a big coincidence, wasn’t it? One I wouldn’t have expected to happen. Even Gabe hadn't, he was surprised when we went there and saw Jimmy having the time of his life. It was entirely possible whoever called in didn’t realize who he was. But still…
"It wasn’t a coincidence, Lara. No matter what act Eric pulled in front of you, it was exactly that; an act. You were lured to that club because he was going to be there."
"So someone called it in, but it was fake?"
"Who said anyone even called in? You didn’t hear the call, did you?"
"No," I said slowly.
"There you go. It's entirely possible the call was fabricated. No one messes with Eric, or his son, or his people when they go out. Anyone who does gets thrown out. Besides, I was there the whole time. I can tell you I didn’t see anyone that looked bothered. Though, admittedly, I wasn’t watching carefully."
"But what if someone did call it in, anonymously. It could have happened, right?"
"You don’t actually believe that you're too smart for that. If it was just a regular disturbance, they could have easily asked someone else to go, not you specifically, and have you drag your partner there with you. There are usually guys out on patrol, right? Cops in uniform, like you. One of them could have been told to go see what the problem was."
I'd thought of that, why it had to be me and Gabe, but we were just workers. Low on the totem pole, as he'd said. The order came from the captain, and unless we wanted to say no to his face, of course, we did as we were ordered. It was our job.
"What we really need is proof that Eric is responsible for all the killing and related crimes. That man needs to be put away."
He made a disgusted sound. "Getting evidence on Eric won't be simple. The bastard is good at hiding his tracks."
"But you know things, don’t you?" I turned to him, and he scowled down at me.
"Yeah, Lara. I know things. Things that would likewise implicate me as his accomplice. I don’t like working for him, if I could, I would have retired ages ago. I am not willing to go to prison, guilty or not, over that psychopath."
"You don’t have to say anything about that. About your involvement. You could, I don’t know, come up with something believable." And then I got curious. "What did you even do for Eric?"
Why hadn't I asked that yet?
He looked at me, eyes dark. "Do you really want to know?"
We'd stopped walking, and I wrapped my arms tighter around my body. No, I suddenly realized that I truly didn’t want to know. But I asked, and I wasn’t backing down.
He moved, and I followed it with my eyes. He took a step closer, hands raised cautiously. I stayed still, wondering what he wanted to do. When his hand wrapped around my neck, I felt my eyes go wide, but I held still. Then he moved around my body so my back was to his front, plastering himself to me. My body remembered his, and my shiver was one of awareness, even though he was freaking me out a little.
"Clay?"
"It's okay, I won't do anything. I'm just answering your question."
I was going to say something, make a bad joke, but then his hand on my neck shifted. His thumb pressed into my neck, to the right side, under the edge of my jaw. He put some pressure there, and I gasped.
"The carotid artery is right here." He whispered the words in my ear. "You don’t need to know the exact location. If you jam a wide enough blade in this area, go just deep enough, you'll hit it. It’s the biggest blood vessel to the brain. Even if someone—miraculously—manages to survive having it cut, there is still brain damage, so they're as good as dead."
We stood still and silent for a moment, before he released me, slowly. I kept still, feeling my body shiver, this time in something close to fear. He moved around so he was in front of me again, keeping some distance between us. His face was hard, lips pulled in a taught line. I could barely see his eyes in the dark because he'd moved further away, so I couldn’t read them.
"Do you understand, Lara?"
Yeah, I understood. It was something even I couldn’t find out easily if I wanted to. But I remembered his statement from earlier, about letting me bleed out, and after that action.... It seemed like the action of a man that was used to it. He hadn't put a knife in my throat, but I wondered how many people he had done that to.
Clay was a hired killer. I felt my body rock with another shiver.
How was I supposed to feel about that? My first reaction was to deny it. He didn't say the words outright, and I was just inferring. He could have been a doctor or something along those lines, but the thought was too laughable.
"Are you okay?"
I touched my hand to my throat but nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."
It wasn’t even a lie. It surprised me, just how okay I was after Clay indirectly confessed to something like that.
"Come one, Lara." His hand lightly touched my shoulder, urging me to keep on moving, so I did. "We need to stop by the motel room, take care of any evidence we might have left there. If your guy told Eric we were here, I'm sure Jacque isn’t far behind."
I frowned. "Who?"
"They guy who's been following us."
"I hadn't learned his name before, I just called him the psycho or maniac, in my head."
He cracked a smile, but it was gone almost immediately. "He's going to be searching for us, we need to keep away from him. He's just as loyal a dog as that dirty cop was. But just in case the police come too, I don’t want to leave something for them to find. I'd rather remain anonymous. We won't be able to do it perfectly, but we do need to get our stuff out, at least."
"All right. Why don’t you let me go in and take the stuff, then? I'll wipe down whatever surfaces I touched with the sheets or something—I don’t think you touched much, anyway—and I'll be right out."
"It won't be the perfect job, but… I want to go in with you."
"Someone should keep a lookout. Besides, unlike you, I'm uninjured. I'll hurry and get back outside, okay? Just keep an eye out."
I could see his lips tighten again, he clearly didn’t like it, but he didn’t argue. When we got back to the motel, he waited outside as promised, looking around, as I went inside. He must have been in a hurry, to leave without even locking the door.
He'd also left the light on in the front room. The adjoining room was open, and I wondered if he'd left it that way because I remembered closing it when I left. I walked forward, slowly, suddenly getting a bad feeling. But Clay was right outside, so I would be okay, right?
So, I pushed the door open wider and stepped into the room. It took me a second, to realize why I had such a bad feeling.
Jacque was there.
Before I could do more than stumble back a couple of steps, he was on me, hand reaching for my mouth, the other arm wrapping around my body in a vice grip. I would have struggled, but he held me tight enough that breathing became a problem, and I felt like my ribs were going to break. He lifted me, way too easily, and dragged me off as I struggled to breathe, panic turning my mind blank but for one thing.
Clay, please help me!
Getting Through
Clay
I paced in a tight little circle, feeling agitated. What was taking Lara so long? I didn’t have a watch on me, but I was sure she was taking too long. All she had to do was take all the shit we'd left there, do a quick wipe down, and come back. I already paid for the night, and it wasn’t even over, so we just had to leave.
I waite
d impatiently, watching the door. I counted down a minute. When she didn’t come out, I stormed inside. I would have thought she was losing herself again, but I didn’t think so. She'd reassured me she was fine. After we did…. that.
I growled to myself as I felt my body try to stir at the memory.
There is no time for that. Getting distracted gets you killed. It was a rule I lived by. In my line of work, with the kind of people I associated with, getting distracted at the wrong moment was a dick move. I'd done enough, losing myself and doing her on the hood of a car, out in open air.
Without a condom.
Even if we were both clean, and she was on contraceptives, I wasn’t an idiot. Accidents happened, and usually, I was more cautious. Only, I wasn’t in the habit of buying condoms regularly, because I didn’t use them all that much, to begin with.
"Lara!" She wasn’t in the front room, but the light in the other room wasn’t even turned on. If she'd gone there, she would have turned it on.
But… there was no other place she could have gone to. I felt something like ice settle in my chest and chill my whole body. I still had Lara's gun on me, tucked in the back of my pants at the small of my back. I reached for it as I moved forward, swift but quiet.
I didn’t aim the gun at anything. I could tell, even without turning on the light, that there was nobody in the room. I optimistically thought to check the bathroom. But then I switched on the light and took in the room.
The chill in my body cooled down a few degrees, even as something warmer wanted to take its place.
I could see Jacque's handy work at play. He'd slashed the sheets of both beds, torn the pillows apart and thrown the stuffing everywhere, slashed at the walls. If I had thoughts of leaving our stay inconspicuous, that idea was out of the window. No way in hell was I cleaning all the mess in there, and whoever walked in would know something dangerous had gone down.
Lara was nowhere to be found. Neither was Jacque. I looked toward the window, noticed the curtain flutter. I walked there, slowly, and pulled the curtain aside. The window wasn’t even open, someone just broke it, and there was no metal guard to keep anyone out, so they had easy access. I looked outside but could see nothing.
I cursed. Very long, and very loud.
He couldn’t have taken her very long ago. How had I not realized, when I stood right outside, waiting for some external threat? Why hadn't I insisted on going inside with her?
I grabbed the car keys and my jacket, and whatever else we might have left there. I dropped a few bills on the nightstand for whoever would come to check in, left the keys there as well. I cursed when I found Lara's vest. She shouldn’t have left without wearing it in the first place, not that it would have been much help against her cop friend. He would have thought she had one on and shot her where it would hurt.
I left the room running. They had a head start on me, I didn’t want it to get any wider. Jacque was a nasty son of a bitch. Whatever he would do to Lara… none of it would be pretty. Just thinking about it made me want to be in a room with him, locked inside, and me with a metal baseball bat.
If he hurt her, he was going to die. Painful, or slow, I didn’t give a damn.
I made it to the parking lot, only to be met by surprise. I expected the car to be where I left it, but it wasn’t. I cursed a blue streak. That bastard Luke must have brought friends along and dropped them before getting closer to Lara. Jacque must have been one of them. And I was so focused on getting to Lara before she got herself killed, then getting distracted, that I somehow didn’t notice anything else going down. I didn’t doubt he had help. I hadn't seen any other cars around, but they could have been hidden somewhere.
"Son of a bitch!"
Jacque. Was the universe getting back at me for thinking he was useless, even though he was most of the time? He was causing me some trouble now.
But the cop's car was still around. He wasn’t planning on using it anyway. It was a distance away, and I had to run the whole way, conscious of time moving. I'd taken maybe five minutes to go in after Lara, if he'd grabbed her when she went inside, that was how much of a head start he already had against me. And he was gaining more.
I cursed, in my head, feeling my lungs burn as I increased my speed. My leg wasn’t happy with me either, but I'd survived a lot worse. Pain was a common thing in my line of business when something went wrong with a job. I was glad for it, though I'd hated it all the times I'd gotten hurt. But I couldn’t have withstood the pain otherwise. Whatever drugs I took were starting to wear off, and I didn’t have access to more.
I made it to the car and dragged the body out of the way so I could open the door. I slid into the seat, checked the ignition for the key. Thankfully, he'd left it there. Must not have thought he'd need to be there for long.
Bastard. I felt my lip curl. He was a nasty piece of work, like Jacque only less psychopathic, more sociopathic. He must have been a good actor to have someone like Lara be loyal to him.
I wanted to run him over as I started the car and put the gear into drive. I didn’t have time for that, though. I floored it, and the car shot forward. I left my foot on the gas pedal, watching as the speed climbed higher. I was confident in my driving skills, but I didn’t want to go too fast. If I crashed, then Lara was dead.
I didn’t like that thought at all.
I had some idea where he would go, though. It wouldn’t take me into the city, so at least I didn’t have to worry about being stopped for speeding violations.
I needed to go around the city limits, heading towards the water. The city was attached to a lake, and that lake had several docks. Warehouses and other buildings had been built around there, though pretty much all operations had been moved a bit further inland. Jacque had a dockside warehouse where he did most of his dirty work. I was sure I would find him there.
There weren’t a lot of people around. I was relieved, it meant getting inside would be easier, I didn’t have to be too careful. I parked quite a distance from the warehouse and walked the remaining distance on foot.
Getting into the warehouse wouldn’t be free and easy, though. Jacque hung out there, but rarely by himself. He had underlings with him to help with whatever he did there, and he took people that were loyal to him, besides being loyal to Eric.
They wouldn’t just let me walk inside. And no doubt he would have warned them I was coming.
I didn’t bother trying to hide. There wasn’t much on this side of the dock where they could hide unless they tried to hide behind the doors of the warehouse.
I killed a couple of goons on my way in. They were good; I just happened to be better. News would have traveled that I'd switched sides, so even those that would recognize me would shoot on sight. I didn’t care; it got me inside.
Just because I hated killing, didn’t mean I wouldn’t. Besides, killing these guys wasn’t the same as the dirty work I'd done for the mafia. The targets I was sent after were varied—all of them innocent people that were getting in the way of business in a way that someone didn’t like.
These people had and would kill without thought. Getting rid of them was doing the world a favor.
I knew there was an office in the back, where Jacque liked to hang out all day as he had underlings and Eric's goons doing most of the uninteresting dirty work. I didn’t bother trying to hide my presence, pelting it over to that door. I expected to have to kick it down, but Jacque, the cocky fucker, even left the door unlocked.
So, I opened the door and walked inside.
I saw Lara first. I gave her a quick once over. She was standing with her arms behind her back, I guessed they were tied there. Her hair was messy, and there was a bruise starting to darken on her right cheek, around her eye. I frowned at it, but other than that, she looked just fine for the moment. Once I ascertained for myself she was alive, I looked at the rest of the room.
Jacque was there, just like I knew he would be. He was holding Lara at gunpoint, and he grinned at me, that wicked s
mile that made him look like a psychopath, and like he'd been waiting for me.
Betrayal
Lara
"Clay."
I heard him, heard the pleased sound in his voice, and I felt a little relieved, even though I was frightened at the same time. The psychopath had just spent the past thirty minutes, after he managed to drag me here and tie me up, telling me all about what he wanted to do with Clay. After he was done with Clay, I was next on his list.
None of it was particularly nice, a lot of it… even if the body lived on, a mind couldn’t take it. I'd nearly gotten sick just listening to him, but I wouldn’t let him get to me. or at least, I wouldn’t let him know he was getting to me.
But with Clay here…
I'd been surprised when he'd taken me, even more so when he suddenly tossed me to the ground, trussed me up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and tossed me in the back of a car, with some help, before I could get enough of my bearings to scream for help. Clay would be pissed.
"Nice of you to finally make it, man! We've been waiting here for a while."
He said it sounding jovial like we'd been having a nice chat over tea and Clay was late arriving to the party. I could feel my mouth twist sideways, but I didn’t say anything. He'd already hit me, and he'd made the hit light, but I was feeling it. I knew if he truly put his weight behind it, with his fist about the size of both of mine, he could easily have broken my cheek bone.
"I should thank you for holding onto my gun for me, it would be bad for me if it fell into the wrong hands. Although, if you had been nice enough to leave the cop's, too, I wouldn’t have minded. I'm sure her fellow comrades in blue would have been grateful to have it recovered."
Right. It had nothing to do with their plan to frame me for my partner's murder.
His Betrayal: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Omerta Series Book 5) Page 8
