Shattered King

by Sherilee Gray

Zeke’s eyes slid my way, giving nothing away. The Texan was at his usual spot, propped against the wall, tattooed arms crossed. Zeke Stanton was an ex-Navy SEAL, a sniper in a previous life—a life he chose not to talk about, ever. We’d all known each other since high school. Him and Van had enlisted together, been in the same unit. But Van had opted out before Zeke, left that part of his life behind before it marked him in a way his friend hadn’t been lucky enough to escape.

  Zeke only talked when he had to, did not waste time on pointless conversation. He also had a stillness, an intensity about him that was perfect for surveillance. The guy could move around unseen any-damn-where like no one else.

  But while Zeke kept his distance, Neco closed in.

  Not only was Neco Malik our best tracker, he had skills with a computer that were second to none. He was an exceptional hacker, could get into anything, could override any security system with the click of a few buttons. He was an integral member of the team, and one of my best friends. We’d run together when we were kids. He had it rough growing up, a half black kid in a mainly white neighborhood. Having a mother who sold herself to pay the rent, and a father who he had never met, meant life had been far from easy. As a result, he’d grown into one mean, angry motherfucker.

  The guy was like a brother to me, but right then, I needed him to back the fuck off.

  Neco shook his head. “Just hear him out.”

  “Before you pop a fucking artery,” Jude added, walking in behind me, voice nothing but a deep rumble.

  I ignored them all and waited for Van to start talking.

  My brother blew out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I needed you to get into that safe, and I needed you doing it with a clear head.”

  I curled my fingers into fists, knuckles cracking. Van could be a ruthless son of a bitch at times, but this was extreme even for him. “Keep talking,” I gritted out.

  A muscle in his square jaw jumped. “I didn’t want to send you in. If there’d been any other way . . .” He crossed his arms, getting that stubborn look on his damn face. “You were the only one who could do what we needed in the time we had.”

  Union City Insurance had called us a few days ago, after they’d received a claim on a painting. The painting I’d been looking for tonight. If it weren’t found, Union would be down three million. They wanted to avoid that.

  This was the part of our business we didn’t advertise. Illegal in every way it could be, unethical as all hell. But it paid well, and with our unique talents, our success rate was extremely high. Put simply, Union City wanted the painting found. They didn’t want to pay out the money it was insured for, and they didn’t care how the King Agency made sure the job got done. As long as the painting was returned to its owner, they were off the hook.

  A lot of insurance companies felt the same way. If the claim was fraudulent, their client sure as hell couldn’t accuse anyone of breaking into their houses and stealing it out from under them if it was already supposed to be missing. They definitely couldn’t say anything when their insurance company called and returned their items with a smile and a “Hey, look what showed up.”

  Paying our fee, a fraction of what Union City would have to pay out if the painting wasn’t found, was worth it to them. The guys at our agency either confirmed it was insurance fraud, or tracked down the stolen item and stole it back.

  Which was what I’d been trying to do tonight, only it turned out a few vital details had been omitted.

  I stepped up to my brother’s desk and planted my fists on the surface. “I’m out of patience.”

  Van cursed quietly. “Robert Carson is the claimant.”

  A chill slid down my spine before it turned to steel. I had to plant my feet so I didn’t dive across his desk and beat the shit out of him. “You don’t see any problem, sending me on a job involving that family, without telling me?” No one in the room missed the quite fury in my voice. Even Zeke stood straighter.

  Van casually undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolled up his sleeves, eyes never leaving mine. “We think Pierce is behind it.”

  My nostrils flared as I sucked in a rough breath at the mention of Pierce, Lulu’s stepfather—and my ex-employer. I’d worked for him for a couple of years on and off while we were getting this place off the ground. Mainly debt collection, but occasionally I provided muscle for the prick, as one of his personal bodyguards. I’d met Lulu shortly after I started.

  And I’d wished every day for the last three and a half years that I’d never laid eyes on her.

  I choked down the rage. I had no damn choice. If I lost it, they’d close ranks. It’s what they expected me to do, why they hadn’t shared the details of the case.

  I clenched my fists at my sides. “And the rest?”

  My brother watched me closely, gaze darting to Neco before he spoke. I felt my friend move in closer.

  “It was Robert that called in the claim, but the painting was taken from Pierce’s home,” Van said.

  “How can Robert claim it if it’s not his?”

  Van’s shoulders relaxed a fraction when he realized I wasn’t about to throw down in the middle of his office, and kept talking. “Pierce made sure Robert co-signed every insurance policy . . . every fucking thing he owns. Which isn’t a whole lot, as it happens. Most of it’s tied up in family trusts, belongs to his wife Elizabeth’s family. Their homes were never theirs to begin with. Anyway, we both know Robert’s weak, follows Pierce’s lead like a goddamn puppy, would do anything for his brother, including insurance fraud.”

  As much as it pissed me the fuck off, I got it, the secrecy. I understood my brother’s concerns. Anything to do with Lulu’s stepfather was a hot button for me, to put it mildly.

  But he’d purposely kept this from me, and even though I understood his reasons, there was no way in hell I was sitting this one out. I couldn’t just do my job, find the painting, and forget the rest.

  I crossed my arms. “Pierce has to be pulling the strings.” The guy had gone underground in recent weeks. I didn’t know why yet, but anything that might lead me to him, I was all in. “Selling privately, plus the insurance payout, would set him up nicely.”

  Van dipped his chin. “Exactly.”

  I had to find that painting. I didn’t know why Pierce needed the money, but I wasn’t letting that asshole get his hands on it. And I sure as hell wasn’t missing the chance to get my hands on the son of a bitch either.

  Pierce needing fast money meant he was in deep shit, plain and simple. He’d either vanish, go deeper underground, or use the cash to scrape himself out of trouble. None of those options were acceptable. That fucker was well overdue payback, and any way I could make his life harder—or, better yet, draw him out—was a win for me.

  “I’m in.” I locked eyes with my brother. “And if you ever keep shit like this from me again, or send me into a situation like that without all the facts, we’ll have a serious fucking problem.”

  Van dipped his chin, jaw still hard.

  I walked out of his office a short time later, taking the stairs to the lower level. There were several rooms down there: the surveillance room, gym, Neco’s office where he kept all his tech shit, and a bunk room that was occasionally used as a holding cell. I let myself into my friend’s office.

  Neco walked in right after me, and leaned against his desk. “I wasn’t happy about keeping that shit from you.”

  “You of all people should know how I’d feel about being kept in the dark. Especially when it comes to that family.”

  Neco rubbed the back of his neck, not holding my gaze, looking cagey as fuck.

  “What didn’t Van tell me?” I didn’t want to fight Neco. He was my brother in every way but blood, but I was this close to losing it.

  “Hunt, man, you need to take a step back from this.”

  I just stared at him.

  The guy cursed. “Yeah, I have something. Shit. Not Pierce. Not directly, but someone else who might be able to get
us the info we need. Maybe clue us in to where he’s been hiding out.”

  Neco gave me a long, meaningful look, and something knotted unbearably tight in my gut. My friend shook his head, planted his hands on his hips. “I give you this, you don’t do anything fucking stupid. You go rogue, Van will lose his shit, and I’ll have to go after you and drag your ass home.”

  I refused to make promises I couldn’t keep. “Will this info help us find Pierce, the painting?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then give it to me.”

  “Fuck.” Neco ran a hand over his cropped hair. “Pierce’s wife, Elizabeth. She’s been sick a long time, years. The family found out recently she doesn’t have much time. A matter of weeks. Cancer.” The guy held my gaze. “Pierce isn’t gonna risk his neck going to her, he’s gone into hiding for a reason. The guy’s running scared. Plus, that bastard’s ice cold . . . but she’s another story.”

  She. No one said Lulu’s name in front of me anymore. They knew better.

  I knew Lulu’s mom had been sick for a long time. And he was right, on both counts. Pierce wasn’t showing, not even for his sick wife, but Lulu? She’d been close to her mother. Really close.

  Neco rested his hands on the desk. “She might know something. Might be able to give you the information you want, lead you to him. Might not. Elizabeth’s going home in a few days. Pierce arranged nurses to take care of her several weeks ago. Don’t know if that’s still happening with him lying low—I doubt it. Either way, she only has a small window if she plans to get to her mother undetected.”

  I didn’t doubt Lulu knew where Pierce was holed up. Her and her stepfather had been tight. That’s how I first met her—Pierce had taken Lulu everywhere with him. And I mean everywhere. I’d assumed he was grooming her for the family business. While we were together, she’d never shared that part of her life and I’d never pushed. More than likely because there was always this niggling feeling in my gut that she was hiding something from me. I didn’t want to see it, afraid whatever she wasn’t telling me would take her away from me. Turned out I should have paid more attention to my gut. I glanced over at Neco. The guy looked worried. He had good reason to be. Getting her to tell me where Pierce was hiding wasn’t all I wanted from her, and Neco knew it. Knew what was eating at me. I’d planned to take down Pierce first then go after Lulu. This way, I could kill two birds with one stone.

  I should stay the hell away from her, but I couldn’t, not until I looked her in the eyes and she told me the truth, that everything we’d had was a goddamn lie, all of it. Then maybe I could finally get her out of my head. “Where’s her mother?”

  “Let me come with you.”

  “No.”

  Neco watched me, like he was trying to read my mind. Finally, he shook his head, jotted down what I needed and handed it over. “Don’t know about this . . .”

  I took the piece of paper and walked out the door. Neco called after me, but I ignored him, heading straight for the supply room. Grabbing a bag, I loaded up with what I needed, and then I was striding through reception. Lulu had taken off after I’d been locked up, hiding out so Van couldn’t drag her ass back in and make her tell the fucking truth. That she’d been with me when the fire started, that I’d been nowhere near that building when it was torched, that she’d fucking lied for Pierce and set me up. But my brother had failed to find her. Even Neco hadn’t been able to track her. How fucking hard was it to find one woman?

  Now I had my chance. I knew her well enough to know she’d risk coming back to see her mother, and I’d be waiting when she did.

  I was at the elevator when Van called my name. “Don’t do this. Just . . . leave it.”

  Neco had a big fucking mouth. I shook my head and turned to face my brother. “Can’t do that.”

  “We don’t need her for this job and you know it. What could she possibly say to change what happened? What’s done is done. Nothing can get those years back.” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “We’ll get Pierce. But this has to be a long game.”

  “You’re telling me you could leave it? Just forgive, forget?” A throb started at my temples.

  Van shook his head. “She doesn’t want to be found. I think it’s better for everyone if you keep it that way.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “When it comes to Lulu, you don’t think straight. You don’t act smart.”

  Hearing Van say her name out loud scored a direct hit. The rest of it made me want to punch something. Preferably my brother’s face. I hit the button on the elevator.

  “You’re not gonna stop, are you.” Van didn’t pose it as a question because he knew the answer.

  The elevator slid open and I stepped inside. “Not until I’ve looked into her eyes and asked her why she did it.”

  The doors slid shut on my brother’s scowling face.

  Lulu

  My beat-to-shit, old-as-dirt Honda Accord backfired when I pulled to a stop in Aunt Sara’s driveway. Even though it was dark, I could see the last puff of toxic, gray smoke exploding from the exhaust pipe as I shut off the engine.

  So much for stealth.

  I had no idea what I’d do about this latest bit of drama. It started about an hour ago and I’d spent the entire sixty minutes clutching the steering wheel in the death grip of all death grips, as if that would stop my car from crapping itself.

  I took a minute, not ready to get out, trying to pull it together. I hated this out of control feeling growing inside me. I was a fighter. I’d been scratching and clawing my way through life for a while now. Did whatever necessary to keep Josh safe, to make sure I’d always be there for him. The fact that I couldn’t do anything for my mom was tearing me apart.

  I felt like I was hovering above myself, looking down on someone else, some other girl. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. I wasn’t meant to be living this fucked-up freak show of a life. Always looking over my shoulder, always moving, hiding. Struggling to feed my kid. If it weren’t for my aunt, some weeks I wouldn’t have managed.

  I thought I was prepared for it. Mom had been sick for a long time, spent more time in the hospital than at home. Still, the news had hit me like a sledgehammer. Three weeks, that’s all she had, maybe less. I hadn’t seen her for almost three years, but I’d known she was there. I liked knowing she was there, that if I ever got the chance to come back, she’d be waiting.

  I’d already decided it was time to pack up and move on from Lawrence. I liked Indiana just fine, but staying in one place for too long was stupid, careless, and I’d already been there longer than I should. It was a risk coming home, a huge risk, but I had to see my mom one more time. I had to.

  Josh let out an earsplitting wail in the back, scattering my thoughts, and kicked his legs. To say he’d had enough of being stuck in his car seat was an understatement.

  “We’re here, baby.” I climbed out quickly and opened his door, pulling him out of his booster before he woke the neighbors.

  His legs kept kicking. “Down.”

  My son was independent. He’d informed me a week ago that he was a “big boy” and only babies got carried around. Unless they were sleepy and wanted snuggle time, of course. I put him on his feet, his little hand firmly held in mine. The porch light above Sara’s front door flicked on.

  It opened a second later and my aunt walked out. My two-year-old big boy wrapped himself around my leg and popped his thumb in his mouth. Something he’d been doing since he was a few months old.

  “Lucinda? Is that you, bunny?”

  My breath caught in my throat at the sound of her voice. “Yeah, it’s me.” It was all I could get out. Tears clogged my throat, and I had to swallow repeatedly to stop from falling apart. We talked all the time, but I hadn’t seen her since I ran. It’d only been me and Josh all this time, and seeing her, her slight frame moving toward me in her fluffy blue robe and pink slippers, hit me hard.

  Then she was standing in front of me. She was shor
t like me, like my mother. I probably had an inch on her five-foot-three inches. But when she wrapped her arms around me, her hold strong and warm, I felt like a little girl. I never wanted to let go. I wanted to come home and let her take care of us, like she begged every time we spoke. I’d been on my own so long, had been forced to be strong, to fight every damn day, and sometimes, I just wanted to give in, to not have to think about . . . anything.

  My son wriggled against my side, and Sara pulled back, tears glistening in her eyes. She framed my face in her warm, hands. “My babies are home.”

  Josh popped his thumb out of his mouth, and tilted his head back, looking up at us. “Not baby.” Then stuck it back in.

  Sara chuckled, threaded her fingers through his in-need-of-a-cut black hair, and grinned. “I don’t suppose you are.” She looked at me. “He’s beautiful, sweetheart.”

  My smile wobbled and Josh blinked up at her, his bright blue eyes taking us both in. His body had been tense up until then. He didn’t like new situations, even as a baby, but he relaxed instantly at my aunt’s sweet smile.

  Sara wrapped one of her arms around my waist. “Come inside. I bet you’re both hungry?”

  That got her another thumb-pop, followed by a big grin. “Pop Tarts!”

  Sara frowned. “I don’t think I have those.”

  Great, the kid was outing me. I mean, we didn’t live on Pop Tarts, but we indulged from time to time.

  Josh scrunched up his face, not impressed. “He’ll eat whatever he’s given,” I piped up.

  We walked in the front door. “How about a piece of chocolate cake?” Sara tried again.

  “Joe’s cake.” His face was serious as he said this, like a little old man, brows scrunched low. When he frowned, I was sure he looked like Hunter, or maybe it was wishful thinking. Either way, it was a sucker punch every time.

  My aunt looked at me puzzled. “Joe’s?”

  My face heated. “Trader Joe’s. We get cake there sometimes.” Try every week. I roughed up Josh’s shaggy locks and grinned down at him. “You’re giving away all our secrets, kid.”

  Face still serious, he turned to my aunt. “Joe’s cake?” Now he knew there was cake on offer there would be no going back.