13. Mandy
13
MANDY
I drummed my fingers against my thigh and kicked my bare foot against the couch. I flipped through the channels, but I couldn’t find a damn thing on TV that held my attention. What could, with Chance out there, doing God knew what?
I stood up and sat down again. I was out of distractions. Short of vacuuming, I’d cleaned every room in the house—and I’d have vacuumed as well, if it wouldn’t wake Pepper.
Jab. Jab. Jab . I continuously stabbed at the remote. For the hundredth time, I checked the clock on the DVR. Only 9:48 a.m.
“Ugggh.” I slapped the back of my head against a throw pillow. Pepper wouldn’t be up and ready for a spa session for another hour at least .
Thumbing the power off, I tossed the remote onto the couch and hoisted myself off. Toeing on a pair of sturdy flip-flops, I grabbed my house keys and slipped outside. Flowerpots bursting with flowers—all Pepper’s doing as I had a death thumb—hung between the white square columns circling the porch.
I jogged down the steps, smiling at the butterflies sipping nectar from the flowers. I hadn’t had breakfast yet, and the diner had a short stack of cinnamon French toast I loved. If I happened to pass by the garage on my way, well, I could peek in and see Chance.
I love you too, okay?
Just the thought of those words made me feel warm all over. I smiled and jogged faster. Beads of sweat dotted my hairline as I bounced down Main Street, then my steps ground to a halt yards from the garage. A large black SUV blocked a set of vehicles in the side lot. Through the waiting room’s glass door, I spied Walter crowding Chance, along with two huge thugs. Walter’s scrawny arms gesticulated, and Chance’s expression turned stony.
Then Walter threw the first punch.
Chance
I had been coiled tight since I’d opened the garage. Not with nerves but with anticipation for the coming confrontation.
When Walter’s SUV pulled in, parking like an asshole, my instincts told me trouble had finally arrived. I moved into the waiting room, not wanting the residents of Springwell to get caught up in the drama.
Walter barreled in ahead of the pack, stopping short when he spied me in the center of the room. He’d brought two men with him, thugs in black suits—one with a heavy unibrow, the other with the dull eyes of the truly psychopathic. They flanked Walter like bookends—bookends the size of fridges.
“Where’s Mandy?” Walter demanded, puffing up his bony frame.
“She’s no longer your concern,” I responded, glowering at Walter while covertly tracking his goons, staying on alert.
Fury reddened Walter’s face, and he stalked forward. Poking the air near my chest, he bit out, “You have no idea who you’re messing with or what you’re getting involved in.”
I calmly raised an eyebrow. Walter was a small man for such bold talk. Drawn up to his full height, he barely reached my chin. “I’d love it if you enlightened me.”
“I can make your life hell,” Walter retorted, and it took all my self-control not to laugh. The guy obviously had no clue what I had survived the past twelve years. “Now, tell Mandy to stop hiding. She owes me money, and I plan on collecting one way or another.”
The need to punch this bastard’s throat lit through me, but I banked the impulse and made sure nothing showed on my face. “As I said before,” I answered coolly, “you’ll be dealing with me from now on. I’d be happy to give you my phone number as you’ll no longer be contacting Mandy.”
“I don’t want your phone number.”
I dipped my head just a touch to emphasize looking down on Walter, trying to rile him up so he’d blurt something useful. “Those threatening texts stop now unless you’re man enough to send them to someone your own size.” I quirked my mouth. “Relatively speaking, of course. Maybe if you stood on a stool or something.”
The new shade of red flushing Walter’s face was impressive. “You think you’re so superior.” Walter jabbed my chest hard.
I flexed my muscle, then threw my arm up to block Walter’s right hook. I countered with a jab, nailing Walter in the face. The weasel screamed and stumbled backwards, clutching his eye and cheek.
“Teach him a lesson,” Walter yelled at his henchmen, pointing at me.
I inwardly groaned. I had hoped the confrontation wouldn’t turn into a brawl. Anyone could walk in at any point and get hurt. But it was obvious the thugs only understood the language of fists.
Luckily, I was fluent.
I had so many weapons in my reach—from pens, to bottles, to plastic chairs—but I stuck with my fists and feet. No need to land in jail for killing the goons.
Unibrow lumbered forward while Dull Eyes circled to the side. They planned to trap me between them. All right. I snapped my leg out and connected with Dull Eyes’s knee. A loud crack echoed in the tight space, and Dull Eyes screeched as his leg gave out, dropping him to the floor.
“Nolan is going to bury you,” Walter shouted, dancing side to side, well out of range. “You hear me, asshole? He’s connected .”
Amid Walter’s wailing, Unibrow locked onto me and threw a punch. I dodged back and fired off an uppercut. Unibrow snapped his chin back in time to miss the blow and nailed me in the stomach.
I tightened my muscles to minimize the impact, the response involuntary after so many years of training, and thrust my knee up. Unibrow twisted his hips to avoid the blow and stumbled into a rack of wiper blades. The display crashed to the floor and Unibrow leapt back, forcing me to jump over the mess.
Unibrow took advantage of my vulnerability in that moment when my feet left the ground and hammered his arm around my neck, muscling me down.
I grabbed the guy’s arm as if to rip it away but took advantage of the distraction to pick the goon’s pocket. I’d spied the outline of a cellphone, likely packed with valuable intel. Shoving the device into my coveralls, I rammed my elbow into Unibrow’s gut.
Unibrow’s hold slackened and I whirled. I drove my knee up, and this time successfully caught Unibrow in the groin. The goon howled and hunched over, grabbing his nuts. I grasped his head and smashed it into my knee.
Blood poured from Unibrow’s nose and he groaned, staggering back.
“STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!” Mandy barked the order from the doorway, like a commanding officer addressing unruly sailors.
Walter whirled and charged for her. “You stupid bitch.” He jabbed a finger at her. “I tried to help you. Offered you a break.”
I pushed Unibrow out of the way and jumped over Dull Eyes. I slid to a stop in front of Mandy just as Walter invaded her space.
“I sent you that text to see if we could work something out,” Walter continued, trying to dodge past me. “You should’ve met me yourself instead of sending your rabid dog.”
“Text?” Mandy asked, but I didn’t want to get into that at the moment.
“Is that why you showed up with two men? How were they going to help you work things out?”
“I don’t answer to you,” Walter retorted sullenly, but his shifting eyes told me all I needed to know. The thugs were meant to scare Mandy, to bully her into whatever sexual trade Walter wanted to make.
“Collect your men and get out.” I glared at Walter, pointing at the door. “And remember what I said.”
“This isn’t over,” Walter shot over his shoulder as he helped Unibrow wobble with Dull Eyes to the SUV.
Ominous silence reigned in the waiting room, and I steeled myself. Raising my eyes from the drops of blood near the downed display, I met Mandy’s gaze. Fury and fear warred on her lovely face, punching me harder than Unibrow’s jab to the stomach.
“What the hell happened?” She clenched her fists at her sides. “You said you were calling Butler. You never said anything about—about…” She studied the room now in disarray. “What did Walter mean by sending me a text? I never got a message from him.”
Damn. I’d planned to own up to that once I was through. Once Walter and his crew were safely locked away. “He, uh, did send you a text yesterday evening.”
“And you, what? Deleted it?” Her tone was so low and lethal that I winced at the sound of it. “Are you telling me you read a text from Walter—a text on my phone—then you deleted it, all without telling me?”
I shifted my weight, bracing for impact. “Yes.”
“And this was your plan? To confront him yourself?” Mandy paced, her flip-flops snapping so hard, I feared they’d fly off or break. “Did you even call Butler?”
“ Yes . Yes, we? — ”
“I asked you for one thing. One goddamn thing. I asked you not to do anything without talking to me first.”
“I did talk to you. I told you?—”
“Don’t you give me that. You knew I’d say no if you told the whole truth, so you gave me some half-truth and went on your way. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me. I dare you.”
I dropped my eyes, guilty. I hadn’t meant to hold back, hadn’t purposely deceived her. Or maybe I had, on some deep-down level, wanting to keep her safe, but?—
“Chance.”
“I have a plan,” I repeated, swallowing my guilt. The mission was on. It was too late to back down. “I’m not going off half-cocked on my own. I called Agent Butler. Our next step?—”
“So you admit it. You lied.” Mandy turned from me, pain lacing her tone. “I thought we were a team.”
“We are a team,” I countered, stepping forward, but I halted when she backed away. “But it’s like I said. We need help from a bigger team. We can end this?—”
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “I can’t…I can’t listen to you justify going behind my back right now.” She turned and walked away. To my dismay, she looked more sad than angry. Heartbroken, if I was honest, and maybe that was fair. I grabbed my hair with both hands and pulled. Fuuuuuck .
But the mission’s still on.
I stood breathing deep till my blood pressure stopped redlining, then pulled out my phone. First things first. I had to update Agent Butler. We had a first name now—or was Nolan a surname?—and the suggestion he might be in the mob, if Walter’s definition of “connected” was the same as mine. Then I’d see what I could learn from Unibrow’s phone.