Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4

by Hart, Charlotte E

  I scramble into it and floor the accelerator, incensed at the thought of Vico getting his hands on Fia and how he might treat her. With me or not, she’s not going back to that kind of life. She’s better than that, worth more than living her days at his will. If nothing else, she should stay with Quinn, enjoy her life there and learn who she is.

  The lights of the city flash by, distorting a line across my thoughts and sending more visions of her smile than I’ve already got. That was all we had that was real between us, that small amount of time in the suite in Miami before he came for me. Well, he can bring that shit again right now, right up in my face, because he’s not taking her back to that kind of life.

  Not on my watch.

  I don’t even remember getting here, but I power through the open gates and kick gravel up on the way to the main house. I get out, slamming the door, and look around at the bunch of guys who have been called in to deal with Vico’s arrival. They all nod at me, some of them checking over their weapons and getting ready. I run my hand over the hood of Quinn’s car, feeling the heat from the engine, and look up at the windows. Hope will be back with her now, comforting her because of me. A curtain twitches in the far guest quarters, but I can’t see who it is. I pocket my hands and stare at it, hoping some clarity other than murderous intentions will prevail in my thoughts. No one kills Vico.

  No one damn well stands up to him let alone thinks about killing him.

  “Carter.” Quinn’s voice focuses me.

  I turn my head from the window and find him standing in the main entrance, Nate off to the side. “Where are Emily and Gabby? Logan?” I ask.

  “Emily’s upstairs. Gabby’s somewhere,” he replies, looking at Nate for explanation. As if on cue, Logan walks in from the side, a gun in his hand. I arch a brow at him, amused at whatever he thinks he’s doing.

  “Can you even use that?”

  A shot comes two feet in front of me before I can blink, the impact of it kicking dust up into my face. I nod and walk in, heading straight for the gun cabinets out back of the kitchen. Alright. He’s more ready than I gave him credit for.

  “It was evens by the way,” Quinn calls.

  Of course, it was.

  Fucking dice.

  My handprint registers on the cabinet and activates the door, revealing a small arsenal. I select an extra Glock to match my own. With any luck, none of us will need them, but I’m no fool. If what Hope said is true, if she was concerned enough to come and find me, he’ll be coming with one intent only—to get his girls back without care for killing any of us. I turn and head for the main hall again, only to find Quinn in my face.

  “I need to know how you feel about her,” he says, crowding me.

  “We haven’t got time for that, Quinn,” I growl, trying to get around him, back to the entrance. I’ll stand there, wait for Vico so I’m the first one he sees when he gets here. Quinn’s hand lands on my chest, pushing me backwards as his body closes in.

  “I’ll defend this house, and you, but I want the truth before I put any of us on the line,” he says quietly into my ear.

  My eyes look at the stairs, tracking the steps up to where she is.

  Love.

  I don’t know what the hell that is, but I guess I do love her. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I look back at him then watch as Nate and Gabby come out of one of the corridors. He draws out his own gun, a frown on his face as he kisses Gabby’s forehead and sends her over to the stairs. She wanders up them, her eyes directed at mine and a curt smile on her face.

  “Get it out of your mouth, Carter. Just say it so this makes sense to me.”

  The sudden mental vision of Fia being made to leave this place, her body being dragged out of the door kicking and screaming by the man who's supposed to protect her, is enough for me to find a response.

  “She’s not going back with him,” I mutter, searching for better words than that. There aren’t any, though. Not until I see her and work that out in my own head. “If she doesn't want to, she shouldn't be made to. That's no life for her. She should be here. With you.”

  And me.

  He lets go of my chest and nods, turning to walk towards Nate. “Good enough.”

  I watch them both as I cross the hall, looking at their aged features. This house, the years I’ve been here, and I’ve never really noticed their age before this moment. I don’t know why. They’ve just been there, the two of them like father figures, I guess. Strong. Guiding.

  Quinn fingers his brow, tension in his grip as he talks through the possibilities of what’s going to happen here. Now I’ve spoken to Hope can feel the atmosphere here, I know she’s right. There isn’t any nice way of dealing with this situation other than full throttle with no fucks given, no matter how he’d like to keep everyone safe. For the first time in my life, I'm questioning his ability to manage that with what's coming.

  My feet root to the spot, eyes watching them some more. I'm the one who deals with dirt now, not them. I have been for years, trained that way. By him. The only way of getting this done cleanly would have been sending his sister and niece home—a thing he’d never do. So now we're here with no other option but to go full tilt to convince Vico we'll stand our ground against him.

  That I'll stand my ground.

  I palm the knife in my pocket and head outside, eyes locked on the driveway and then scanning the team Quinn’s brought in. The gates are open as if inviting him here to talk. Guess they think it’s not worth trying to keep him out or letting him know they see him as a threat. He is, though. A huge one. He’ll have all his guys with him, the same ones I’ve done business with over the years. They’re good, lethal at what they do for him. Just like I have been when needed. I frown and look back at the house again, checking that goddamn window she’s behind. All this for a woman, for a piece of something I should never have touched. I smile and turn my head back to the drive slowly, waiting. Guess that’s the shit that comes when love gets involved in business.

  Does for me, anyway.

  The rumble of cars comes the moment I acknowledge the thought of being in love, really feel it down in that spot I’ve been trying to ignore. I look at our guys lining up, ready to do whatever we ask of them, and then stare at the last of the day’s sun glinting off a black SUV as it turns through the top corner of the drive. Another follows it, and then a Merc.

  Quinn walks past me the second we all know he’s arrived, Nate close on his heels, and then I feel Logan come to the side of me. “Hope she’s worth it,” he grumbles, shoving his gun into the back of his waistband.

  I frown at his comment. To me, she’s worth everything. Including my life if that's what it takes. Whether she's worth theirs is something I still can't work out, but here we fucking are, all because of me.

  The vehicles line up in military operation—precise, organised—and then the doors start opening. Four guys peel out of the first, all of them suited and dropping their sunglasses as if this is a business meeting. It isn’t. As proved by the second car emptying of guys with guns in their hands. Then Vico exits his own car, buttoning his expensive jacket and looking around the place like he hasn’t got a care in the world.

  He walks over, head tilted, as Quinn approaches him.

  “Vico,” Quinn says, offering a nod.

  There isn’t any answer from the guy at first. He just looks around Quinn blankly, eyes firmly directed at me and nothing else.

  “Bring them down here,” he says, menace highlighting the same features I remember from our last meeting. Everything in me tenses, my hands barely managing to remain calm in my pockets as I watch him looking at me. I deferred last time, offered myself to him out of respect. Not this time. “You give them up and this all goes back to the way it was, Quinn. I want my family.”

  “They’re my family, too, Vico. Fuck you.”

  His lips twitch as if something is funny, and he returns his stare to Quinn rather than me.

  “This won’t end well for you. You k
now it. Don’t be fucking stupid, Cane.”

  They seem stuck at an impasse, time ticking by. I notice Nate move, his body angling differently as if he’s about to pull his weapon and get this started before anyone’s given a chance to talk. Guns click and load around us, tension ramping up between both parties.

  My feet step across the gravel towards them without thought, every part of me wanting to make sure he knows I’m not waiting in the background of this shit.

  My fault. My decisions. My family.

  Mine.

  He looks back at me the second my feet crunch the gravel, murderous resolve on his face at my show of intent, and glares as I make my way up into his face.

  “Carter,” Quinn mutters.

  “No. Enough. Back off and let me handle this.” He doesn’t, but my presence is enough for Vico to stay focused on me instead of them. “You want them, you’re coming through me first,” I snap out at him, pushing Quinn backwards with my body. “They’re both staying where they want to be. Here. Fuck you. You will never lock her up again.”

  The hell I remember in his features, the one I can still feel all over my body from the beating I took for her, drops again. Everything in the air changes. The team behind him move in, three of them solely focused on us as the others spread out into positions mirroring our own men.

  “FIA!” he bellows, appearing to wait as if she will magically show the fuck up. “HOPE! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS DOWN HERE. NOW!”

  I watch that tension turn brutal, see him get himself all riled up in temper, and brace myself for some kind of attack. I don’t give a fuck; now I’m ready for it. Old cunt needs teaching some goddamn manners about life, certainly when it comes to me. One on one is fine by me. The calm and the storm, my calm finally about to unleash. Maybe all this will be done when I’ve put him on the ground like I damn well should have done last time.

  “They’re not coming, Vico. Fia stays where she is." I push further into him, forcing the kind of show he'll understand. "With me."

  If that's what we both want.

  Whatever cool he was managing to hold onto evaporates. Still, my chest butts his, my voice so low only he and I can hear it. "Screw you, old man. One nod from me and all allegiances here end. That money you're planning on making from clean drugs? That's gonna be mine, too. I am far from done with her sweet ass. She's gonna be all mine with no going back if you don't get a grip of your shit." My hands shove his chest hard, letting him feel how pissed I am. No more bowing down, no more taking his hits. He wants this, wants to destroy his family. I'll defend the side that counts. "Back. The fuck. Off.”

  He draws his weapon so quickly it nearly blindsides me. I stumble backwards, knocking the fucking thing out of the way as it shoots. I grapple for it, body spinning into his for purchase, but then my eyes see what the fuck he’s done.

  Quinn folds to the ground, blood spurting out of his leg. Everything’s a goddamn blur for a second until I turn back, rage and anguish fuelling me straight into the kinda hell he’ll understand.

  A shot sounds out from somewhere behind me and then everything goes full throttle as I keep pushing at Vico’s weight. My head launches one solid smash into his skull, enough that he stumbles backwards from the impact. Fuck, that felt good. I growl and plough into him again, ready to carry on showing him who I am when I don't bow down. The sound of feet scattering everywhere, ducking and dodging behind cars as more shots sound, should make me less focused. All it does is centre me on Vico alone, my body remembering all that pain he delivered to her, to me. Cunt. This ends now. This time with him on the floor.

  I'm damn well putting him there.

  Hands grab at me, a fuck load of them trying to pull me off him. Screw that. I battle in their hold, one fist still wrapped around the collar of his jacket and the other reaching for my blade until I can’t hold on anymore. He is ripped away from me, and I’m slung sideways. All fucking hell comes at me then. A foot to the ribs, head knocked sideways from a blow. I grab out at the leg closest, cracking the ankle and levering myself up again to carry on.

  “Carter!” Nate yells.

  My head swings round to find him in the middle of the chaos. Logan comes into view, his back covering Nate as he tries to drag Quinn towards the house, guns sounding out shot after shot.

  Fuck.

  I turn back to where Vico was, searching for him amongst the carnage to end this, but all I find is more men coming at me. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m pissed. My body surges at them, fists and blade doing what they’ve been taught to do cleanly and swiftly to get to the only one of them who matters.

  Vico is what I need, no one else.

  Vico is what finishes this before everyone gets killed.

  Twenty-Eight

  “Oh my God!”

  “Mom, what?” I rush to the window, unable to take her sporadic commentary. I could see her resolve waiver when his voice echoed through the house.

  “He shot Quinn.”

  “Who?” I peer through the glass and watch as I see people swarm around. Uncle Quinn is on the ground, Nate and Logan with him, and Carter is on the floor grappling with my dad. “Mom,” I cry, suddenly terrified of all the possible repercussions. “Mom, what do we do? Stop it. Stop it all.” My breathing falters, and I begin to feel lightheaded.

  “Listen to me, Fia. You need to focus.” She takes hold of my shoulders and directs my gaze to her. “You will stay here. You will not move, understand?"

  I shake my head. I can’t stay holed up when the people I love are in danger and getting hurt because of me.

  “Stay here where it’s safe. I need to go and help.” She rummages in her purse and pulls out a small handgun.

  “Mom, you have a gun?”

  “Yes, sweetie. You’re not the only one of us who can shoot. But understand I won’t have to use it. I promise. You need to stay out of the way. Do you understand me?" I look around the room, my eyes drawn back to the window and what’s happening between Carter and Dad.

  “Sofia!”

  My eyes fill with tears as she cracks my name with her tongue. “Baby, I’m sorry. So, so sorry, but please do as I say. I love you.”

  My head nods at her words, but I’m only half concentrating on her. I need to see what’s going on and check on Carter.

  “I’ll be back when it’s safe.”

  She leaves, shutting the door behind her. The moment she does, I rush to the window, my palms pressed up to the glass to get a better view.

  Men surround Carter, but my dad isn’t one of them. My eyes dart around, searching for him, but I can’t see him, and I can’t see where they’ve taken Uncle Quinn either. The sound of guns firing chills me to the bone, and helplessness sweeps over me, my fingers trying to dig into the glass.

  I tear myself away and pace the room, worrying my hands as I struggle to keep hold of my fears. A very real fear that my dad will do something that no one can undo. Mom’s words repeat in my head, but staying here won’t help, and I have to try to solve this. He came here for us. We can end this.

  As I think over what I can do, a plan of sorts forms in my mind. At least it’s something I can do. I’m not helpless. I started all of this. This is because of me. I heard my father’s booming voice calling us to come down. Surely, if I go down and give myself up, he’ll leave everyone else alone? Gabby and Emily are here. Uncle Quinn needs help. I couldn’t bear it if one of them were to get hurt, more than they already have. Isn’t this what family does? Stand up for one another?

  With a deep breath, I steel myself before following Mom downstairs. This might not be what I want, but it’s the only way to end this. He’s left me no choice.

  The echo of gunshots leads me closer and closer to the front of the house. Shouts and calls from men fill the air around me, and I follow them outside to where I last saw everyone gathered from the safety of the window. My lips tremble as I attempt to keep a grip on my emotions.

  As I peek around the double door, I can see Uncle Quinn propped by the si
de of the house. Gabby is on the phone crouched next to him, her hands holding tight to the dark stain that's spreading down his leg. Two men stand guarding them, and Logan is only a few feet away. He has his arm up, a gun in his hand, and he seems to be firing at some of the men in suits running around the property. He suddenly doesn’t look like the annoying cousin I’ve always seen him as, rather every bit the Cane he’s been brought up to be.

  The distraction doesn’t last long and I’m back to watching each movement, searching for Carter or my dad. The movements are blurs of arms and guns, Uncle Nate flying through my eyeline at one point, his own gun aimed, until I find them. Two men have Carter’s arms pulled to his sides, holding him up towards my dad. I want to run to him. I need to eat up the space between us and help, but that would put us all in jeopardy. Before I can even get my feet to move, Carter shirks the man, twisting out of his reach, then with his now free arm, sinks his fist into his neck. The man stills and then crumbles to the floor. A glint of silver flashes in Carter’s hand as he turns and carries on for the next man, and I realise he has his knife. He’s as ruthless and efficient as ever. Swift and cold. Deadly. Just what he needs to be.

  However macabre the scene is, watching Carter—alive—gives my heart a jump start, regardless of his violence, and I venture out into the carnage, keeping my body crouched and low to the ground to avoid being seen. The cars make useful shields, and I rush towards each one, hiding behind them before moving to the next, each time peering around the scene to keep track of Carter.

  Dad will be here somewhere. Wherever Carter is, he won’t be far behind. But with Carter in my sight, my focus blurs and doubt creeps into my mind about my plan. I duck behind another car and watch for movement to see Carter now struggling with another man. It’s not Dad, but my heart is in my mouth. For once, I need him to be the ice-cold killer I’ve seen before. When Carter drops the other guy to the ground, I smile in relief. My instinct to stand and rush to him is overwhelming, but before I can, I’m stopped in my tracks. Powerful arms curl around my chest, cutting me from my goal and forcing me backwards. “No, stop,” I scream.