Chapter 11 #2
'But at least we'll find out,' I counter. 'It’s okay for you. You aren’t being told you need to marry anyone. Your entire life isn’t stolen every time someone feels like showing you who’s in charge.
What am I going to do? Kill Marcus too? That detective is still nosing around and another dead Banderville will lead them right to our door.
' I glance at him. ‘Maybe instead of making more problems, you can break into that flash drive I gave you, or did you forget about it again?’
The guys are silent. Maybe I’m being an asshole, but right now I’m too frustrated and upset to care.
I go into the bedroom, needing some alone time, mostly away from Blake. I go to the bathroom and take a long shower to divest myself of the Novelle house. At least that's over with, and hopefully I won't have to go back ever again.
When I get out of the shower, I see that I have a message from Sauvage.
I get dressed in some jeans and a sweater, feeling more comfortable in regular clothes, and I go down to see him in his office.
The guys are all still in the living room.
Blake opens his mouth when he sees me, but I put my hand up and shake my head at him.
I don’t want to speak to him right now. I enter the elevator, and luckily none of the guys question where I’m going because I think I might explode into a ball of fury if they did.
When I’m let in Sauvage’s office, I expect him to be behind his desk, but for once, he's sitting in the window in one of the large high-back chairs, reading a book. When he sees me, he stands respectfully as per usual.
'I have news, Chéri,' he says.
I frown at him. 'About?'
'You asked me to find out about that reporter, the one you gave information to at the Heath.'
'Yeah,' I say. 'Has she published something?'
'No. Chéri… I’m afraid she is dead. Natalie Mason was found floating in the Thames just last week. I have someone looking into it for me, but the authorities say it was suicide.’
‘She was going to expose The Heath,’ I say. ‘Why would she have killed herself?’
Sauvage shrugs. ‘Perhaps she carried sadness, and it became too heavy for her to bear. Or, perhaps, she was killed for what she was going to tell. I will have my contacts find out what they can. Perhaps there is a place where she kept her evidence. If there is, they will find it.'
I sink down onto the other chair in front of him.
'What if she’s dead because I gave her those documents?’
‘She was at The Heath already. You did not seek her out, chéri. If there was danger, she must have known of it, or else why would she have been at the clinic undercover?’
‘I guess,’ I murmur despondently.
'What is your plan for this evening?' Sauvage asks, changing the subject.
'Nothing,' I sigh. 'I was just informed that my new guardian is Andrew Novelle, and he wants me to marry Marcus Banderville.' I shake my head. 'I need to get out from under this.'
Sauvage sits back and regards me thoughtfully. 'Perhaps this will be another Aqua Tofana scenario?'
I shake my head. 'I can’t keep killing people. The police will catch on eventually. Although if Andy dies, I guess Shade would inherit me.’
Sauvage purses his lips. 'Perhaps it is time for you to understand that there may only be one way to be free.
A new city. A new country. A new name. A new life, perhaps.
But you would not be able to take your paramours.
Three men, one woman… You would not be able to hide in plain sight no matter where you went. '
I don’t like what Pierre is saying. I have problems, but being on the run without my guys, even Blake… It wouldn’t make my life better. I stand up, feeling stuck and trapped.
I want this life, but on my terms. No one else’s. I just need to fix it.
***
Blake
I finally get the call in the middle of the night.
I sneak out, hoping the others don't wake up because I don't want to have to explain what I'm doing or why, even though they already know that the debt was sold to the cartel.
I haven't met any of my new bosses yet. I haven't done any work for them either, and I feel like a fish on a hook, just waiting to be reeled in.
I get dressed, my mind helpfully supplying all the ways I’ve been a dick to my friends and to Daisy since Sauvage told me about my change in circumstances.
I didn’t mean to push them away, especially not my gorgeous girl.
But I did and I made her upset, and I even forgot about that damned flash drive for days.
She’s pissed and she has every right to be.
I’m an asshole and I deserve it. Maybe that’s why I haven't apologized yet.
I have almost broken through the encryption though, so my plan is to give her the info from the folder while I beg her to forgive me and hope she does.
I make sure my nine is loaded and I've got a spare magazine as I try to clear my head. I can’t be thinking about Daisy, or what I’ve done wrong. I need to be on my game tonight. No distractions. I don't know what I'm going to be asked…told to do. Maybe this is just a meeting.
Before I leave, I bend down, and I brush a kiss to Daisy’s cheek. She doesn’t stir.
My heart thuds in my chest as I go down to the basement and sneak out of the hotel through the secret passages. I come out at the cemetery, through the Banderville crypt.
Our truck is parked just down the street.
I take it and drive slowly to an abandoned warehouse outside of town, the location I was sent by a number I don’t know.
At first, it looks like the place is derelict and there's no one there, but as I get out of the truck, I feel what can only be the barrel of a gun pressed hard to the back of my head.
'She's waiting for you,' he says.
An American. So, I'm not the only gringo in the cartel's employ in Richmond.
I'm led to a large hanger. There are crop dusting planes by the edges and a large cargo carrier, along with a small, sleek, and gleaming jet inside.
A short, pudgy woman sits at a table on a Persian carpet in an upholstered chair. It’s like a movie set with no walls that has been created for this meeting.
She's wearing a long maroon dress with a high neck and a slightly ruffled collar. Her graying hair is pinned back into an elegant coif. A black cane with a silver dog on it is hooked onto the arm of her chair.
She doesn't get up as we approach. In fact, she doesn’t look at us at all.
I glance around while I wait to be noticed. There are at least ten guys here with automatic rifles. None of them look at me either. I don’t even register as a threat to them, I guess.
'Don't step on the carpet,' the American with the gun says. 'Wait until she speaks to you.'
I nod. Kormak was like this, too. He enjoyed little power games.
So, I stand, and I wait, staring straight ahead and not even looking at the woman in front of me. A good little soldier.
She sips from a bone China teacup with pink, painted roses on it.
It's a few minutes before she finally puts the cup down on a tiny round wooden table next to her and her eyes land on me.
'You are Eric Blake,' she says. It's not a question.
'Yes, ma'am,' I say anyway.
'And your father, he is in Richmond Penitentiary for theft.' She snorts derisively.
'Yes, ma'am,' I say again.
'Your debt has been sold to me.'
She doesn't look at me again. Instead, she stares down at the rings on her fingers and then blows on her nails, red and long, the same shade as her lipstick.
'I am told you have skills that may be useful to me. We shall see. That man there, Eduardo. He will give you a location. You will clear it for me. If you are successful, I will not have your tongue removed from your mouth.'
I don't swallow hard the way that I want to.
'Yes, ma'am,' I say again, not giving her an ounce of fear.
She looks me up and down and then snorts again.
'Go,' is all she says.
I'm prodded with the gun again, and I'm given a slip of paper before I'm forced out of the hanger. I don't ask any questions, instinctively knowing that she will not give me any answers, and this is some kind of performance test.
I leave the airstrip, taking a look at the note as I drive. I know where the address is. It's in a shitty little neighborhood not far from where I grew up, mostly full of crack houses these days.
I drive slowly, not drawing any attention to myself, and when I get there, I park on the next street over.
I slink through the alleyway at the back of the house, coming through the shadows directly into the backyard where I find an old, rusted jungle gym and a broken swing from when this neighborhood used to be better. The fence has half fallen, so it's easy to get to the house.
My heart's pounding. She wants me to clear it. That means everyone has to die.
I go in through the door at the back, finding it unlocked, and put the silencer on my weapon as I go.
As I pass through the empty living room, I grab a pillow off the dirty, frayed couch that looks like it's seen about ten years too many. Ignoring the questionable stains on the gray cushion, I carry it with me.
The first person I see is a man staggering down the hall.
He doesn't see me as he goes into the can, and I hear him taking a leak.
I come up behind him, I put the gun to his head, and I give him two quick taps from the doorway, lunging forward to grab him before he falls and alerts anyone to my presence.
I leave him on the floor of the bathroom and close the door to hide the body.
The next room has three people in it. All of them are in stupors. I pop them all quickly. One. Two. Three. Simple. Quick. That's all it takes.
My stomach churns at how easy it is. I don't know who these people are, but I have to pretend they're bad guys.
The next room is clear.
I go up the stairs as silently as possible, pausing any time the floor under me creaks. But no one comes upstairs. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom.
The first room is empty except for a stained mattress on the floor. There’s no one in there.