Zinc snorted. “Very vivid. I like it. I’m never much on staying on Titanium’s guide book.”
That was an understatement. Titanium and Zinc were never on the best of terms. They co-existed okay and wanted the same things as far as Francium could tell. They’d started to thaw.
“What Titanium wants,” Platinum spoke from the doorway, “is Red Wolf. I don’t know that he’s all that married to the idea of continuing the con, if we can get it done faster. He gives you a long leash, Francium. Use it.”
They all fell silent. He’d never heard Platinum use so many words together before. “Disposing of bodies make you chatty?”
The sniper didn’t answer, and finally, Wen stepped forward. “Then let’s go squeeze the fucker’s balls—literally or figuratively.”
Sounded like a plan.
Forty minutes later, they sat in an SUV a short distance from Remington’s third mistress’s house. Zinc and Platinum set up the back of the truck for the next passenger who would be unwillingly joining them soon.
Wen stayed silent in the front seat while Francium waited for the all clear to go get Remington.
His friend cleared his throat. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Russell pointed at the house. “He has Lara at home every night. Up until two years ago, she loved him enough to tell him her deepest secrets. And he was never loyal.” Or at least, as far as Francium’s digging could turn up. Maybe there was a week when they first dated. “She would make the world spin for some lucky asshole. Besides the obvious, what is the matter with him?”
Wen scratched his head. “I’m going to help you pick out the best church.”
“What?” He didn’t follow.
“When you get married. Don’t get married anywhere until I check it out.”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s only starting to understand what I need. I’m not sure she’ll want it in the long run.”
“You have pretty good instincts. Don’t invent problems if there aren’t any yet.”
“Hey you two,” Zach called out. “We’re ready. Go get him.”
He jumped from the car, knowing the others would follow. But this was going to be his show for a little while. This man had tried to kill Lara. Legally wed or not, somewhere in the last two days, Russell had decided she belonged to him.
He was going to cause Remington so much pain, he wouldn’t be able to piss straight for months.
The door to the small beach cabin was unlocked. The whole thing couldn’t be more than two thousand square feet, which meant it was probably worth two million dollars at least, thanks to its beach location. Remington had three of these things set up for his women. He had spent money over the years like it grew on his trees.
On silent feet, thanks to his training in more nefarious organizations than he could count, he made his way inside the house without being heard. The sounds of grunts and moans caught his attention, and he rolled his eyes. First off, he could tell Remington struggled to hold off coming. Years in the clubs had taught him the telltale sounds. The guy wanted to get off. His partner faked her moans. She wasn’t feeling it all. So far, in the watching Remington have sex department, Remington had been zero-for-two. Lara had only gotten off because Russell watched her, and this woman—whose name was Geraldine, and who in her spare time when she wasn’t fucking Remington, worked as a barista—was clearly not having a great time.
He banged open the door with enough force, Remington was off his mistress in two seconds flat, his hands moving to cover his penis as though it were the most important part of his body.
Remington blinked rapidly. “Russell, what the hell?”
He didn’t give the man the chance to say anything else. He punched the man square in the throat just to hear him gasp for air before finishing the job with a fast pound on his face. Red Wolf’s CFO hit the ground, hard.
Flipping Remington over his shoulder, Francium turned around to face Wen, who waited behind him.
“You got this?”
He nodded. “Deal with the woman. She needs to never breathe a word of this.”
Wen nodded. The nice thing about knowing him for so long was he could completely count on Wen getting the job done. “And thanks,” he thought to add.
His friend snorted.
They really didn’t have a thank you relationship.
Francium stormed into Lara’s house like he owned the place while Zinc hauled Remington out of the trunk. It had been too long since he put eyes on Lara. He’d left her here asleep. On the drive back, he’d suddenly worried Reagan had hired a second hitman. What if he’d missed something?
She slept deeply on the bed in the guestroom, one leg scooting out from beneath the covers to reveal her long leg, the bathroom light illuminating her pink toenails. She’d been in complete darkness when the hitman had come. He’d told Plat to leave her a little light.
Lara had been very brave during the cleanup process. She hadn’t cried after her initial shock, and she hadn’t asked too many questions. Somehow, she trusted him.
He knelt down next to her. She breathed lightly, her mouth slightly open. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes moved. He smoothed the bangs off her forehead. She’d even taken the sedative without arguing about it and crawled into bed, believing he’d handle things.
Why was she so damned lovely?
“Hey man.” Zinc’s voice was low but filled the room. “You might want to come now. We’re all geared up and waiting on you. I can take over this show. But he’s yours to get rid of, if you want him.”
Lara didn’t stir, and he was just as glad. Let her sleep for twelve more hours, at least. Sleep had a way of loosening the bad thoughts and memories that clogged the brain. Or at least, he thought it did. He hadn’t slept well in years.
He kissed her lightly on the forehead and followed Zinc out of the room. The Ghost waited for him in the hall and nodded. “Tough to leave them.”
“I’ve only known her forty-eight hours.”
Zinc shrugged. “Guys like us, we live with our instincts right up front. We react, or we die. We trust out guts. We know things because somehow, we hear, feel, see, or taste things others don’t. When we know things, we know them.”
Interesting idea. He took the stairs two at a time to get back downstairs in time to see Wen dragging Remington out the back door toward the beach.
“He’s going for a swim.”
Francium stopped moving. It had been a long time since either one of them had made anyone go for a swim. They used to do it all the time. But Wen didn’t necessarily do this level of crap anymore, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be responsible for sending him into the darkness or facing the wrath of Wen’s lady if he did.
She was sweet, but he didn’t want to turn on her temper.
“Hey,” he yelled after him. “Don’t do anything. I’ll do it.”
“No, this man threatened a woman, tried to have her killed, and works for Red Wolf. He’s going swimming, and you’re not as good at this as I am.”
That happened to be true. Although when it came to this kind of thing, expertise only accounted for so much.
“I…I…” Remington stuttered. “There has to be a deal to be made. There’s always a deal to be made. I didn’t even know you liked my wife. Want to fuck her? I’ll let you fuck her.”
Russell sucked in his breath. “She isn’t chattel for you to barter with. Despite the fact, she would be dead if you’d had your way. But we will deal. Just not about your wife.”
“Do you know who I work for? Do you have any idea…” Russell didn’t know exactly what Remington would have said next, because Wen shoved his head straight into the ocean.
Running up next to him, Francium grabbed him and hauled him out of the water. “Do you like air?”
He waited long enough for the man to breathe in a gasp of air before he shoved him back in.
“It’s more in the wrist,” Wen called out. “You’re using too much back. Wrists.”
Russell pull
ed him back out. “Because I can make it so you never breathe air again.”
Remington gasped. “What do you want? What can I give you?”
Platinum and Zinc arrived at the scene. Zinc spoke first. “Ten minutes ‘til sunrise. I don’t want to be spotted out there.”
“I’ve got the papers,” Platinum added. “He signs this, she gets three quarters of his net worth, the house, all property, and he stays away from her.”
“What?” Remington squealed, and Francium shoved him under the water again.
“Seriously, Plat. How did you get those papers so fast?” He’d never seen divorce papers suddenly appear before.
Plat shrugged. “Chrome takes care of things. I don’t ask, he doesn’t tell. I told him what we needed. He sent it right over. He’s good like that.”
Francium was going to drown Remington if he wasn’t careful. He pulled him out, and the man gasped for the air. “You could drown. Or you could freeze to death.”
The water was cold, even during the summer, and especially in the morning. “I don’t want to die.”
“We all die eventually.” Wen took a deep breath. “You’re going to sign the divorce papers. Then we’ll talk about all the rest of it. You have four new best friends. Maybe five. I keep thinking I want to bring in Platinum’s friend Copper. She really has a good time with abusers.”
Francium smiled. It was good to have friends.
Lara woke slowly. Her mouth was dry, and her body ached. Reality didn’t descend all at once, but slowly, one slow second at a time. Her husband had hired a hitman to kill her. She gulped. Russell had killed him instead. Then people had shown up, fast. They’d said something about jets. She hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it.
A blond-haired man they’d called Platinum had dosed her with a sedative, and she’d been out like a light. Now, if the sunshine through the window was any indication, it was afternoon. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. The sedative had been helpful, but she still had to deal with what happened, and she now had a medicine hangover.
Noise in the corner caught her attention. Russell was asleep in the chair near her bed. He wasn’t, if the way his head moved left and right abruptly, having good dreams. Had he spent the whole night in the chair next to her bed?
She made her legs work, which was easier decided than actually done, thanks to the leftover medicine in her system, but she did eventually manage to get over to him. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, and he jolted a wink.
Russell blinked rapidly before he seemed to finally see her. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Can’t be looking too gorgeous right now. Thank you for saving my life.”
He nodded. “Thanks for not dying.”
“Think that’s more on you than me.” He looked exhausted, circles under his eyes indicating he’d slept very little before she woke him.
He took her hands. “I need to take you downstairs. But, before we do that, I need you to know I have nearly nothing to offer you. I’ve got money stashed away various places. But I’m the kid that literally no one wanted. Ever. I’m all kinds of fucked up, and I have done seriously bad things. Not even necessarily for a good cause every time. You should take the out you’re about to get and never look back.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips, loving his gasp when she did. “Thanks for the warning. You might find you want to be rid of me. It’s been a long time since I did anything but get dressed and look pretty. I have to figure out who I am, too.”
“I know who I am, and it isn’t…pretty, to say the least.” He stood. “Thanks for the wake up, by the way. Bad dreams, which is weird. I don’t usually dream at all.”
Francium took her hand and led her from the room. She didn’t know where he was taking her, but she’d follow him to Mars if he wanted her to go. Instead, she ended up in the kitchen. Remington sat shaking at the table, a man she recognized only because he’d given her the sedative sat next to him. He was blond with blue eyes. With barely a nod, he acknowledged the two of them.
Her husband’s eyes were huge, his skin very pale, and his bottom lip quivered. She’d never seen him look so frightened before.
The blond man pushed a piece of paper toward her. Finally, Francium spoke. “If you sign at the bottom, you’ll be divorced.”
She gasped, all air temporarily leaving her body. “How did you make that happen?”
“I’m a man who gets things done. Or, at least, I have friends and colleagues who do.” He handed her a pen.
Remington cried out, “Please sign it and don’t let them kill me. Please, Lara.”
“He pissed himself earlier.” Blond man looked bored.
Russell snorted. “Hard to be a terrorist all on your own, isn’t it? Hard to be the one making people afraid when you’re locked in a kitchen with us?”
“Sign it, Lara. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I’m so sorry.”
Francium sat next to him, and Remington jolted. “You’re only sorry you got caught.”
She took the pen in steady hands. This was what she wanted. “Does someone want to summarize the terms?”
“You get three quarters of his net worth and all of the property. He’ll stay away from you, too. Or he’ll live to regret it.” Russell placed a hand on her arm.
Remington’s voice shook. “I’ll stay away. I’ll stay away.”
What had they done while she’d been out of it? She signed fast, and the blond man took it from her hand.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
Francium looked between them. “This is Platinum. He doesn’t say much, but you can trust him. Well, as much as anyone can be trusted for anything.”
“Cynical, man.” Platinum grinned, taking Remington by the arm. “Don’t worry about this guy. He won’t bother you again. He’s coming with us to get started on the rest of his penance.”
Remington was dragged from the room like a rag doll. Francium didn’t move. What was she supposed to do now?
“You can pack and leave.” It was like Francium heard her unasked question. “Go anywhere you want. I’ll set it up.”
He seemed so anxious to be rid of her. Only as he lifted his eyes, his gaze met hers. It was the same as he’d seemed when they’d been at the club, and he hadn’t been sure she’d go inside the room by herself. She doubted he even knew how he seemed. Francium was wounded.
And unsure.
He needed a hug, but she’d sell her kidney in a bet he wouldn’t take one.
She extended her hand. “Come up with me?”
Russell rose, linking their fingers. “Need help packing?”
“No, if I’m still rich, I’ll pay someone to do it soon. I’ll have to get him off the bank accounts.” This was all too much for her to really process it. She had to do one right thing, and then another. Just the night before—or was it? How much time had passed?—her now ex-husband had tried to kill her.
Now she was divorced with beefy, armed men hauling Remington around.
Her brain stuttered. Her sister was safe. Her. Sister. Was. Safe. Tears pooled in her eyes, and halfway up the stairs, Francium tugged her against him.
“What’s the matter?”
“Something is finally right. You did that for me. Thank you.”
His mouth tensed. “I’ve never made anything right for anyone.”
“That must be why this one is so huge. You were saving it up for one giant explosion of help.”
She brought him with her to her bedroom. In the few minutes she’d been out of the room, someone had removed all of her ex’s stuff. He hadn’t slept in there with her in forever, but he’d had a presence in the room—a globe, a picture she hated on the wall. How had they known what to get rid of?
Lara didn’t care.
After closing the door, she stepped away from Russell. This was going to take guts on her part—she didn’t initiate things easily—but she wanted the connection taking a risk would bring. On a day when she’d opened her eyes, and the world righted finally
, could this happen, too?
“What do you want me to do right now?”
He rubbed his eyes. “About what?”
“About anything. I’ll take off my clothes. Do a little dance.” God, she really hoped it wasn’t that one he wanted. She didn’t dance particularly well. “Do jumping jacks.”
She counted at least five different emotions crossing his face before he finally spoke with his eyes heated. “You want to play?”
“Can we? I mean, we’re not at the club. People are here. We don’t have a window between us. Is it still possible?”
Francium groaned loudly. “Beautiful lady, you can have whatever you want from me. You could bring me to my knees if that is what you wish. I don’t know why, but the second I saw you, and you were in the arms of another man, I knew you were mine. Last night was probably the most harrowing night of my life. You want to play? Here in the bedroom? You’ve got it.”
“I have one thing to do. I want to let my sister know she’s safe.”
He nodded once. “That works. I’ll take a quick shower. I’m a sweaty mess. Then I’m going to make you one.”
She blushed at his words, even though she loved the images pushing through her mind they created.
Francium felt the water pound on him and hoped it would wipe away some of the fear he couldn’t seem to get rid of. He hadn’t been afraid since he was a child. When he’d run from the so-called foster home, which had really been an organization devoted to getting rid of anything native left inside of him, he’d been sure they’d chase him down with dogs who would eat his insides.
The idea was, of course, ridiculous. He wasn’t worth that much to them. Another kid to write off as lost and never to be heard from again.
That night he’d known terror. But then he’d figured out the sun always rose the next day. A new start, a new way to figure out how to get what he wanted by any means necessary. Wen had given him a chance, years later, to see himself as useful. He could make a scene and become whomever he needed to be. He could watch himself from the outside and not have to live in reality if he didn’t want to.
The Men of Elite Metal: Platinum, Zinc, & Francium Page 24
