3. Rhett
Rhett
L istening to a grown man plead on his knees, hardly able to stand the stench of urine when he pisses himself, isn’t how I intended to spend my evening.
I have a dinner reservation, in fact.
Keeping my gun aimed at his head, I check my watch. Shit, I’m going to be late.
“P-please, man. I have a wife and a kid,” he blubbers like a child.
My eyes narrow on this low-life excuse of a man. His colleagues are all dead, and the three women they kidnapped—likely days ago, from the looks of them—were ushered out by two from my team.
“You lived as a sadistic, vicious man,” I say coldly. “Even if you did have a child, which you don’t, Derrek Finley Spencer, they would be far better off without such a poisonous influence in their lives.”
The sound of the gunshot rings out and his body hits the ground. I don’t linger around the scene, fitting my gun back into my concealed belt under my suit jacket. I examine myself. I kept clean of blood, thankfully. Rushing home to change would suck.
At the table in the abandoned warehouse where we tracked this movement of hostages to, I make quick work of filtering through their papers, collecting what I can, along with a briefcase full of cash.
It’s dirty money, but we use it toward resources to help our victims and fund our work. Cleans it right back up if you ask me.
Jeremy, a younger member of my network at only nineteen, comes rushing back in to take over for me. “Shit, dude, that was awesome!”
I cut him a warning look. He’s too spirited sometimes, and though it’s a triumph this round, I try to drill home that there is nothing to be celebrated.
Not when a takedown like this is only a drop of antidote to the thick vines of poison that grow through many cities.
My uncle is one of those at the very top of such sinister corruption involving those in high places with enough money to kill their problems, feed their evil desires, and take without a care.
I got out and only wanted to live a peaceful life with my fiancée.
My Sarah. I would have taken down crime legally and earned my rightful place in society.
Then he came for me. As if his leash on me had only extended for a few years of delusional freedom, it became clear the moment he killed Sarah that the only way to cut free from him was to cut him down.
There’s no legal way to find him. No righteous path that will stop him. I have to do this my way. His way. Not better, but far fucking worse.
He’s a very powerful man, however. A master of hiding behind so many people.
Over the three years since I started my network, Xoid, we’ve managed to disband many of his criminal ongoings, but I’ve never found him .
I’ve hunted his movements through the dark web, killed those I could find, and sent my messages in blood and body parts that I’m sure he received—if not directly, then he heard of them.
He knows I’m coming, yet he’s too much of a fucking coward to face me. I won’t stop until I find him.
“Clean up the mess, take everything you find here back to the den, and get to work on our next lead,” I command firmly.
“Yes, sir.” Jeremy salutes.
I resist the urge to groan.
He’s harmless, and I won’t deny his spirit is a relief.
I wouldn’t wish it shattered or for anyone to live a life so numb.
I don’t mind this fractured existence though.
I have a purpose to fulfill, and that’s all that matters.
I don’t deserve anything more when a beautiful, innocent soul was taken far too soon by such monstrous hands because of me.
I head out, slipping into my black SUV. It takes ten minutes breaking speed limits to park outside the expensive hotel. I pass off my keys to the valet, and when I see her in the restaurant I ignore the waiter to take up the seat opposite the stunning dark-haired woman.
“Make this worth my time, Allie,” I say, picking up the glass of water and taking a long drink.
She rests her chin in clasped hands while her large brown eyes sparkle at me. “I’ve tried. You always refuse me.” She pouts.
Her flirtations are adorable but not serious.
“You said it was urgent,” I press. Time is precious with my kind of work.
Allie became an unexpected member of Xoid.
From a high-profile family of lawyers, her role is of the utmost secrecy and discretion.
Only a few know of her in the network, and only I know her full name.
She’s incredibly smart and from her connections is able to get information in some places out of our means.
“You once mentioned you traced a trafficking lead that hinted it was tied to someone very high up,” Allie begins.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“Well, I think you could be onto something. Something really big,” she says. It’s not often Allie wears such a ghostly expression.
I lean in closer as she takes a sip of red wine, her tanned skin furrowing at her brow.
“Who is it?” I ask, but I know it’s never that easy.
“I don’t know. When I hacked into the stream of communication I was swiftly kicked out.
I only got a few code sentences that made no sense, but I figured it out.
I’ve seen it before—when they swap the letters of the vowels.
There’s a hit for a kidnapping that you’re going to be interested in.
The reward is enough to make any saint a sinner. ”
I hook a brow for her to continue, raising my hand at the waiter who was about to ask if I want to order. I can’t stay long.
Allie waits until they’re gone to whisper, “Anastasia Kinsley.”
I lean back in my seat, mulling over the family name I’ve heard before. “The presidential candidate?”
“His daughter, more specifically. I searched the database. There are others with the same name, but none that could warrant such a prize. She’s to be taken alive, so I would assume ransom, but with what they’re willing to pay out that doesn’t make sense.”
“She’s an easier target to get than a running president, but it’s meant to lure him out as a perfect target,” I conclude, puzzling it over in my mind. “Who would want Archibald Kinsley dead?”
“It’s politics. The list is long. There was also another name, Rhett.” She tries to hide her wince, and because of that I save her the bother.
“Lanshall?”
She nods and my fist tightens. My uncle is an arrogant son of a bitch. It will be his downfall to use his true name for his dealings. He could have found me anytime—I wasn’t hiding and I’ve waited three years for it—yet it seems the rat is trying to outrun the flood of rage coming for him.
“Shit,” I mutter, downing the rest of my water.
“Sure you can’t join me for a meal?” she asks just as the waiter brings over a delicious-looking ravioli. “You look like you could use a moment to unwind.”
That would seem laughable at the best of times, but with the bombshell Allie just dropped, my mind is racing faster than it has done in months. There’s no chance of it calming.
“So this woman is in danger, and it could lead me to Lanshall?” I ponder, swirling my fingers around the rim of my glass as if it might untangle the mess of my thoughts.
“It might be worth looking into, yes,” she says.
My eyes slip to her as she finishes her next mouthful. Her expression gives off a hint of triumph.
“You wouldn’t be telling me this if you didn’t know of a way in,” I assume.
Her smile is all beautiful victory.
“How many years have we worked together?” she muses.
She is a fucking diamond. It’s baffling to me that someone so stunning and smart is still single.
I don’t doubt men throw themselves at her feet even if she walks past oblivious.
If I weren’t so fucked-up and dangerous, perhaps I might ask her out.
But that life is not for me. Not since Sarah.
I don’t date, I don’t flirt, though occasionally I’ve given in to a night of sex and nothing more.
I won’t cross that line with someone like Allie though.
She’s too precious to me, and she deserves far more.
“You deserve a raise,” I say, doting on her.
“You don’t pay me.”
Allie won’t accept anything for the help she offers.
She comes from a ridiculously wealthy family, and we met when she hacked into one of my servers—one of her only accidents—and I went looking for her thinking she was a threat to our network.
We never use her full name, and this restaurant is hours away from where she lives.
“You deserve the world,” I say.
She gives her best attempt at being flattered.
“As it so happens, I heard the president is doubling down on security for the upcoming election. I can’t say if he’s aware of the threat made against his daughter or if it’s just normal. He’s hired her a personal bodyguard already, but I did some digging into him.”
Allie reaches down into her bag and then slides a brown file across to me. I flip it open with racing curiosity, but it quickly turns to trembling anger when I read about the dark dealings this guy, Victor Ross, has been involved in. Trafficking. My favorite kind of monster to kill slowly.
“You know what you have to do, right?” Allie says quietly.
I do, though I’m conflicted with what it will mean. This isn’t the kind of work I hoped the rest of my year would entail.
“Thank you, Allie. You’re invaluable to all of this,” I say, standing. I slip five hundred-dollar bills under her glass as I lean in to kiss her cheek. “Have another glass of wine. And that raspberry cheesecake you came here specifically for.”
Before she can protest the money she spies, I slip away.
My determination fixes in place when I begin to calculate my next move outside the restaurant. I think of who I could assign to this task, but it feels too valuable, too important. Pulling out my cell, I dial an old friend who’s more like a brother to me. He picks up on the third ring.
“I have a feeling this isn’t a catch-up call,” Xavier groans into the phone. He’s a prolific FBI agent in the position I should have joined him in had the devil not set other plans in place for me by crafting me a spot in hell.
“Another time, soon,” I promise. It’s been too long since we saw each other when he was relocated to Washington, D.C. a year ago. It almost seems like fate now.
“Just get out what you’re going to ask for, you damn bastard,” he says.
It’s a lighthearted comment when he knows exactly the kind of work I’ve built over the years instead of following him the legal way. Sometimes we consider ourselves opposite sides of the same coin. He’s never judged what I do even though it’s against every legal responsibility he has.
“I need credentials. Stellar ones.”
“Rhett, that’s some serious fraud shit you’re asking of me.”
“I know. But it’s really important.”
“Are you close to finding him?”
Xavier Leith knows about my uncle. He knows everything.
“I think so.”
I don’t want to get my hopes up, but Alistair Lanshall’s death is ironically the only fucking thing keeping me alive, driving toward something before I fall to the same fate as Sarah. I don’t deserve my life when hers was stolen.
“What division?” Xavier asks.
I know what I need is no small ask. In fact, it’s damn near suicide if I’m caught.
“Secret service.”
Xavier groans into the phone. “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably best not for now.”
“All right, man, I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
“You owe far more than that, Kaiser,” he sighs. “But if it helps you catch the son of a bitch ...”
I swallow hard, filled with gratitude. I don’t deserve the loyalty of him or anyone else who’s stuck by me since I became such miserable company and a constant danger. I don’t like having to ask for favors, but some things are quicker or more out of my depth, so I have to bow the need for help.
I will do whatever it takes to plummet Alistair Lanshall into the deep grave I’ve been digging for him since Christmas Eve three years ago, dead or alive, through whatever means will grant the most suffering.
Though it will still be only a fraction of what I live with every day.