Valor
Cavalieri Della Morte
Measha Stone
Contents
The Cavalieri Della Morte
The Authors
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Dustan
Cherise
Epilogue
The Cavalieri Della Morte Series
A Sneak Peek at Sorrow’s Queen
Sorrow
About Measha Stone
Also By Measha Stone
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Scarlet Mark
Copyright © 2019 Meach
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book may not be redistributed to others for commercial or noncommercial purposes.
Editing by: Outthink Editing, LLC
Alpha Reading By: Allison Irwin
Proofreading By: Barb Jack & Joy Di Biase-Giachino
Cover Design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Photography: CJC Photography
Models: David Wills & Riley Rebecca
Published by: Ninja Newt Publishing, LLC
Digital Edition
Created with Vellum
Dustan
Smokers huddled around each other the required fifty feet away from the doors to the bar, puffing away on their cigarettes and electronic nicotine dispensers. I hated the smell of smoke, it reminded me of dirtier times of my life. Times best left smashed at the bottom of an ashtray.
I walked past them, turning my head to breathe fresh air, and headed up the two steps into the bar. A local joint. Music blasted from the digital jukebox in the back corner, pool tables crowded with what were probably the usuals, but I wasn’t interested in any of that. What I had my eye on hadn’t arrived yet.
But he would.
Like clockwork, Antonio Merde would walk through the front door and find his stool at the bar. He’d order his usual bourbon on the rocks and sip it while he eyed the sweet candy walking around the bar.
I knew this because it’s my job to know. Every move Antonio had made in the last week had been categorically noted in my head. It made it easier that the man was an idiot and never varied his routine. He did the same shit every single day. No changes, no variations. It made my job a little too easy.
Which put me on edge because it shouldn’t be so fucking easy. Antonio had connections. Strong ties to bad men. He should have known better. But he was also a second cousin, making him far from the head of the family. Maybe he didn’t have the brains his uncle hoped he’d have when he put him in charge of distribution on the East Coast.
Not completely in charge. I found that out, too. Antonio shared his power with his younger brother. A kick in the nuts, probably, but that wasn’t why I was sitting in the bar, waiting. I had something else altogether to discuss with him.
A few of the smokers filed in, admitting the chilled air from outside. Winter hadn’t settled in completely, but fall had been a real bitch. If it wasn’t raining, it was balls cold, but since I was on site doing my job, the weather wasn’t really taking up much of my focus.
The guys cleared past me, reeking of smoke or whatever flavor vape shit they’d just ruined their lungs with, and I caught sight of someone worth a moment of my time. At least a quick look.
Most of the women in there were partnered up with someone, or at least openly on the prowl. They’d put on their warpaint and doused themselves in their favorite scents. Perfect curls or tight buns were placed, and outfits I’m sure they took more than an hour choosing donned. But not her—she was different.
She walked behind the smokers, but she wasn’t with any of them. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail at her nape. Strands had fallen out, framing her delicate features. She had curves. I could see them despite the loose-fitting blouse and flowing skirt. Fuck, if I had a thing for schoolgirls, this girl would be right on the money. Give her a pair of thick—rimmed glasses, and she’d be textbook school—girl.
I gripped my glass of whiskey and took a sip just as her eyes caught mine. I hardened my stare. As fuckable as she seemed, I didn’t have time tonight. I had a job to do.
But unlike most girls who took the sign to turn away and keep moving, this girl smiled. I swallowed my sip, letting the burn of the whiskey become front and center in my mind. Because she headed in my direction.
She wiggled her way between me and the stool beside me, her elbow perched on the bar and her face turned up. I had at least a full head on her. If I stood up, would she even reach my shoulders?
“You look like you don’t want to be bothered,” she said softly, her gaze roaming my face and down my torso.
“And yet, here you are.” I tried to present a firm expression, but she was already giggling at my words. The sound didn’t fit her. Like she’d forced it from a mental script.
“I don’t really want to be bothered, either.” She turned full frontal to the bar and waved down the bartender, rising on tiptoe until her breasts rested on the bar. “Can I get a whiskey sour, please?” she asked in the sweetest voice I’d heard in too long. But it was fake. What game was she playing at?
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t even try to hide his assessment of her breasts on his bar. With a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips, he darted off to make her drink.
“If you don’t want to be bothered, you probably shouldn’t be so—up front,” I pointed out, sipping again. If I finished my drink too fast, I’d want another one. And it was a one—drink sort of night.
“His attention is fine. He’ll be heavy-handed with my drink, and he’ll use the good stuff. But all these other assholes?” She waved a hand at the rest of the bar. “I’d rather they just stay where they are.”
“So, you’re using me as a shield.” I couldn’t help but smile. It was a first for me.
“Yeah. You have that scary sort of look. These guys aren’t going to mess with me if they think I’m talking to you.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. Her fingers trembled on the bar top, and her eyes didn’t quite meet mine.
“Here you go.” The bartender put a small napkin on the bar then placed her drink. “Eight fifty,” he announced, leaning closer to her than I liked. He was trying to get a glimpse down her blouse. Prick.
She twisted her little black purse from around her neck and pulled out a ten. “Here you go. No change.” She waved the bill at him then handed it off. The bartender winked and headed back down to other patrons not as patient for his attention.
She took a sip of her drink and smiled up at me. “See? Not watered down, and top shelf.”
I started to say something, but my guy walked in. I checked my watch. He was a few minutes early. He made his way to his usual stool, and the guy already sitting there got up and wordlessly moved to another seat.
I knew his routine. He�
��d order and then hit the head. I had at least fifteen minutes before I needed to get up. So, I sipped my drink and watched the woman enjoy hers.
“I know why I don’t want to be dealing with all these jerks, but what about you? Just hiding out after a long day at the office?” Her fingers flicked over the lapel of my suit jacket. I was overdressed for the atmosphere. I knew it but didn’t give a fuck. Traditions needed to be kept. And when on a job, I dress for work.
“Yeah, something like that,” I acknowledged and swung my gaze back to Antonio. He had his glass in hand. Not too much longer.
“So, what do you do? This part of the city, I wouldn’t expect to see a financial guy.” She forced another giggle and sipped again, her gaze roaming over me again. Assessing. This woman searched me for something.
“Market’s not my thing.” I shook my head, checking my watch. Just another minute and I’d have to get up from my stool.
She sipped again, and I watched her thick lips as the liquor slipped past them. I wondered for a quick beat if her lips were warm, or would they be frigid if I kissed her?
“What about you?” I turned the topic on her. I couldn’t exactly go into details of my work, and I was actually curious what this beauty did during the day.
“Oh, office work.” She shrugged again, brushing off the topic, too. Fine. I’m good with a little mystery. It’s not like anything was happening there, or later.
Antonio got up, laughing at something the guy next to him said. He slapped the guy on his back and waved to the bartender, calling for another round. After his second glass, I knew he’d slip out the back and head home. Antonio never left through the front. Probably convinced someone watched his moves, but he was probably thinking more the FBI than me. I’m not FBI. I’m not anything that can be traced.
I kept my eyes on the girl but my focus on Antonio’s movements. After he made a stop at the bathroom, he’d meet his contact in the back room for five minutes, make his collection for the week, and get his ass back to his stool. The collections happened every Friday night. I didn’t give a shit about that, though. I just needed the timeline to stay the same. If he stayed on schedule, everything would go off without a hitch.
“You need another?” she asked, pointing at my drink. I only had a sip left.
“I’m good,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “You?” I asked when she downed the rest of hers.
“Yeah. I think so. It’s been a rough day.” She nodded, but the tremor from her hands showed up in her voice. She wasn’t drinking off a stressful day; she was gulping down courage.
“Oh yeah?” I said with a raised hand. I couldn’t imagine her having a rough day, not with the sweet composure she’d walked in with. If she was going to lie, she needed to get better at it.
“Another?” the bartender asked, his expression a little less enthusiastic now that I was the one calling him over and not her breasts.
“Sure. Thanks.” She smiled at him but without all the promise she had before. Maybe she was looking for the watered-down drink now.
I pulled out my wallet just as Antonio brushed past us and headed back to his stool. I tossed a ten on the counter, and the bartender swiped it up in his palm.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said but didn’t reach into her purse. I lifted the corner of my mouth and nodded.
“Not a problem.”
“I’m Cherry,” she said with a bright smile, but it didn’t quite light up her eyes. Her hand thrust out at me, and I found myself wrapping my fingers around it.
“Cherry?” I asked holding back my laugh. Of course, it wasn’t, but she stuck to her game plan. Give her some pigtails and a lollipop and we could have ourselves a real old-fashioned porno.
“Yeah. Silly, I know.” Her thumb rubbed against mine, and I realized I was still touching her. She was warm and smooth. Her grip wasn’t as firm as mine but not weak. She was no pushover. “And yours?”
Mine. She wanted my name.
I glanced over at Antonio as he downed his drink and checked his watch, not in the social mood tonight. He was making to leave.
“Dustan,” I said, slipping my wallet back in my pocket and touching my hand to the handle of my Glock. Antonio was up and saying his goodbyes. It was a fast night for him.
He slapped the back of a few more guys, pointed and laughed at one of the men, and fidgeted with his coat. He ran his hand through his hair, like he was getting ready for a date, but that wasn’t happening. Not tonight.
Or any other night.
Cherry started talking again, and I nodded along, keeping eye contact but focused on Antonio. He would be out the back door in a few moments. I had to get gone.
“I’m gonna take a piss,” I said, standing. Cherry stepped back, her jaw slack, but she didn’t grab for me, though for a split second, I thought she was going to. I headed down the corridor toward the bathrooms and walked right past them, past the offices, and through the back door into the crisp night air.
I walked a ways down the alley, toward the end that intersected with another. Antonio had an odd way about him, and he really shouldn’t be walking through dark alleys alone when he had so much betrayal weighing on his head.
Finding the spot I’d picked out, I pressed myself against the building. Antonio would walk to the end of the alley and make a right turn. His car was parked on the other side of the last building. He took the same walk every time he made his collection. Maybe he liked the threat of being jumped. A little adrenaline rush after pocketing his skim of the take.
The back door of the bar opened, and he stepped out. The overhanging lighting was out, but I could make him out fine. His cough signaled his proximity, and I was ready for him. It would be clean and over within a second; he just needed to take a few more steps.
His phone fucking rang, and he stopped to answer. I managed to keep my annoyance to myself. I couldn’t take care of him while he was on the fucking phone. I needed him to hang up. He got closer, still chatting away on the line. A date. He was making plans for a fuck fest on my time.
My jaw ached, and I forced my muscles to unclench. Being tense wouldn’t help the situation. This wasn’t a hard task. Probably the easiest I’d had in a long time. Arthur could have given this job to anyone with less experience, but I had the time. Plus, I fucking hated thieves. Stealing for survival was one thing, skimming off the top from your own family was stomach turning.
Antonio hung up but was in the middle of tapping on his screen when I stepped out of my cloaked space. He paused, looked up with surprise. The alley was almost always empty. It wasn’t exactly a shady part of town, and a lot of his associates hung out in the surrounding businesses. Common criminals didn’t linger trying to take down these guys.
But I wasn’t a common criminal.
“Who the fuck—” His question wasn’t finished before the bullet cracked through his skull. He crumpled, knees hit the concrete first then facedown into a puddle.
A sound from behind me pulled my attention. A sharp click of heels moved along the ground. My eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting in the alley, and I saw her.
Cherry.
She took small steps backward, back to the bar door.
Fuck.
Loose ends don’t work for me. And she was a very loose end.
I left Antonio. Someone else could deal with him. Man like him ended up dead in an alley, there would be questions but quietly ignored. My problem was in front of me, making her way back to the bar.
Her wide eyes were aimed at me, but she wasn’t meeting my gaze. Probably had something to do with the way I stalked after her, my gun still in my hand, ready to finish what she’d started.
A shame, really.
She was gorgeous.
But that changed nothing.
“Cherry.” I raised my gun, pointing it at her. “Come back here, Cherry,” I ordered, keeping my voice soft but commanding.
She reached behind her, fumbling for the doorknob.
“I just c
ame out for some fresh air,” she lied.
“Come here,” I said again, lowering my gun a fraction.
She used the moment to yank the door open. I lunged forward as her purse snagged on the knob. She moved too fast, and the strap broke. I didn’t follow her inside. She’d be too frightened to stop and tell anyone what she’d seen—at least right then. So, I didn’t pursue. Too many of Antonio’s friends were in there anyway. I had kept a low profile, so far. Chasing a girl through the bar—that would have sparked some memories later on if questions were asked.
I picked up her abandoned purse. It was heavy in my palm. After I inspected the contents, my heart slowed back down. Her wallet was not inside, but her phone was.
Cherry could run for now.
I’d find her easily enough.
Cherise
Heated rays of sun burst through the blinds and ripped me from sleep. Not that it was the greatest night’s sleep I’d had, but at least I’d finally stopped panicking and had fallen asleep.
Rubbing my face, I sat up. All the worry from last night poured back into my brain, setting off another race between my heart and my lungs. Whichever one won would get to keep working.
I’d been so stupid. So flipping idiotic, thinking I could do it. I should have known the moment I laid eyes on that man. Danger illuminated the space around him. Nothing about him had given me the impression talking to him, much less following him outside, was safe.
I clenched my eyes closed again, reliving the moment. The shot, the blood spray. If I’d been a few feet closer, I probably would have been covered with it. The sound, that awful thump of a body crumpling to the ground.
Valor: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 1
