Chapter 19
RAVEN
The plastic zip ties bite into my wrists where they’re binding me to the old chair, and I shift restlessly on it, trying to find a position that won’t make them dig into my sensitive skin.
But the man in front of me knows what he’s doing.
It certainly isn’t his first time tying someone up.
He knows how to inflict pain with something so damn simple.
I glance down at the ties around my ankles that keep my legs pinned to the legs of the chair. The fucker’s probably been kicked in the nuts a few times while tying up helpless victims. Enough to learn his lesson that he has to keep me fully restrained or he would pay the price for it.
God knows the second I get the chance, I will do whatever it takes to bring him down and make him pay for this…
And I don’t bother hiding my disdain for him and what he’s doing, either.
The moment I confirmed he works for Lorell, I knew there would be no negotiating, no finding a weakness or way to talk this man out of whatever he came up here to do.
All I have are my wits and words, and I don’t see either getting me very far in my current predicament.
I scowl at him as he sits on the bed I shared with Connor, casually leaning back with my gun resting on the mattress beside him.
As furious as I am for what he’s doing, it’s his easy grin that pisses me off the most. The fact that he keeps cracking jokes and acting like this is normal to be holding someone hostage.
He glances around the small space, releasing an unimpressed sigh. “So, this is really where you’ve been holed up, huh? Not much to look at, is it?”
“Are these the thrilling questions you came up here to ask, asshole?”
My captor smirks. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you.”
A flash of Connor’s cock shoved down my throat, and his statement about wanting to shut me up flash through my head, and I squeeze my eyes closed, fighting the rise of bile at the thought of what this man might do to me if I don’t stop with the attitude.
I swallow thickly. “I’ve been told something similar a time or two…”
He pushes up and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and I can’t help but look at his huge hands.
There isn’t a single doubt in my head that those hands have killed people before.
Someone doesn’t so casually hike into the remote Blue Ridge Mountains to hunt down someone like me just to “chat.”
This man gets what he wants through violence.
And all of that focus is on me.
“So”—he flashes a grin that doesn’t reach his hard eyes—“we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
I flinch at the familiar words Connor said to me. “I’m not sure what this is, or what you’re even here for.”
“You want to do it the hard way, then.” He raises a brow and tsks. “I would’ve thought you were smarter than that, given your track record, but”—he shrugs—“then again, if you were smart, you would have left the Lorells alone.”
My back stiffens, and I do my best not to show any sort of other physical reaction, but his gaze narrows on me, his grin growing.
“There we go. Let’s stop the bullshit and pretending we don’t both know exactly why I’m here or why you’re tied up like that.” He points to me with the gun I know is loaded. “You made an agreement with the Lorells, and you have not honored it.”
I scowl at him. “The fact that you’re here and the fact they even know that proves they haven’t upheld their end, either.
They’ve been watching us, just like I thought.
Watching me. Probably with every intent of taking us out whenever they had the opportunity of making it look like an accident so as not to draw the attention of our friends in the FBI. ”
That devious smirk returns. “We wouldn’t be very good at our jobs if we weren’t keeping our enemies in sight, would we?”
I don’t respond to his questions, because it’s really more of a threat, anyway. A reminder that they have eyes on Willow, Lucky, Killian, and Liam, along with anyone else connected to what happened on the homestead. They probably have since the moment the FBI left the mountain.
And since I have now been able to confirm they actually have people they’ve paid off within the bureau itself, it’s even possible they may have discovered what I’ve been doing through my calls to Michaelson.
If he’s been writing things down, keeping records of our calls or anything I’ve told him, they would have had definitive proof I was working on the story.
“You’ve been a busy bee.” He shakes his head and tsks again. “Buzzing around where you don’t belong. Siphoning sweet bits of information from people and bringing it home to your hive.”
The analogy and tie to Willow’s business isn’t by chance, just another opportunity for him to ensure I know what he does.
He knows I spend all my time with Willow and Lucky.
They’re the hive he’s referring to, which means he probably thinks they’ve been privy to all the information I’ve gathered.
“No one else knows anything.”
His eyes widen, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure you’d love for me to believe that, but I, of course, need to ensure there aren’t any loose ends. So far, we’ve only been able to find one of your sources.”
Shit.
My breath hitches, and he raises a dark brow.
“Are you curious which one?” That devious smirk makes another appearance, and I’m beginning to suspect he does it intentionally to unnerve people. “You’re the one who led us right to him.”
“Oh, God…”
He nods slowly. “I can see you’ve made the connection. Well, unfortunately, Barry is not going to be available to meet with your FBI friend anytime soon.”
They got Barry…
Tears clog my throat, and I try to swallow them down but choke instead, coughing and gagging violently.
He doesn’t seem to care. “We followed you that day, you know?”
Finally able to breathe again, I glare at him as Connor’s warning from the day he brought me up here echoes through my head—about how easy it was for him to follow me, and how he hadn’t known to be looking for anyone following him.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“The day you went to go meet with Barry. Connor McBride followed you, and we followed him. It was quite the little caravan down to Atlanta.”
Oh, my God.
My chest tightens.
Connor was right.
About everything.
“Barry was packing a bag, getting ready to go, when I got to him.”
Oh, God.
I don’t want to hear this.
I don’t want to know the specifics.
“The only reason you and McBride got away up here is that I let you leave Atlanta in order to handle Barry.” He tips his head to the side, his brow furrowing.
“Do you know what sound flesh makes when you carve it with a knife like this?” The hand not still holding the gun reaches down into his boot and pulls out a blade that has me flinching away from it.
“You have to listen carefully because someone’s usually screaming, but it’s pretty incredible. ”
He grins, and I almost lose my battle with a heave. I cough through it again, the tears welling in my eyes as I tug against my restraints again. My anguish over Barry’s death and my hand in it threatens to consume me…
Until I remember one very important detail.
A little laugh threatens to bubble up my throat, but I manage to contain it.
Killing Barry won’t silence him.
Not when I have his full statement recorded and on the damn drive I sent with Connor.
Barry’s death won’t prevent him from testifying because that damn recording will still be usable against Lorell in court under the forfeiture by wrongdoing doctrine.
And this asshole has no idea.
As long as Connor gets it where it needs to go, Barry’s murder could end up being the final nail in the coffin needed to ensure the Lorells stay buried forever.
But I have to do everything I can to ensure I don’t end up six feet under, too.
Pretending to recover from my shock at his brutal words, rather than at the irony of what his actions may have done, I shake my head. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This. Work for them. Be their assassin. If you tell the FBI everything you know, it will be enough to put away Lorell and all of his men for the rest of their lives.”
He barks out a laugh that would have made my blood run cold if it weren’t already like ice in my veins and pushes to his feet, flipping the knife around his finger in a practiced move he’s clearly done before, the blade spinning around as he paces the tight space.
“What makes you think I want out of this?” He stops and squats in front of me, holding the blade up against my cheek, and I freeze. “Working for the Lorells has given me everything I’ve ever wanted, and then some. They pay very well, and loyalty is rewarded.”
“Until it’s not.”
Brent Lorell died on this mountain, abandoned by his uncle, told to clean up his own mess where Lucky was concerned. That little bit of information came from Barry…
There was a reason it was only Brent and three other men on the homestead that night—because his uncle made him use the team that had been involved in the bank robbery and didn’t allow him to utilize their more seasoned men.
It was a dressing down of a young, rebellious Brent Lorell who stepped out of line and made a huge mistake by letting Lucky live.
My captor trails the blade across my skin, not cutting it, but the threat of the blade makes me begin to tremble. “Brent was always a loose cannon.”
“You expect me to believe that that bank robbery wasn’t sanctioned?”
He grins. “I didn’t say that, just that when Brent led his team up here to McBride Mountain, he wasn’t prepared. Even if his uncle wanted him to clean up his own mess, he should’ve brought me. Then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.”
“Why not? I wasn’t even there.”
Leaning in closer, he drags the blade down my throat to press it against the artery there.
“You don’t think you were next on their list?
That they didn’t have someone waiting to slip into your place above the bakery to take you out to?
A reporter, who was close friends with Lucky? They never would have left you alive.”
Shit.