9. Chapter 6 - Kellan
J ediah Waldorf’s home was a monstrous monument to tiny-dick syndrome. I hated attending the little mixer events he used as bargaining chips to cozy up to people with actual power, and I hated being here today even more.
I sat alone on the antique chaise lounge in one of his many living rooms, the ancient furniture groaning under my considerable bulk. I shifted in irritation at the man ballsy enough to make me wait for him.
The man was all pomp and circumstance, but he was afraid of the Cartel, even if his little digs, singsong voice, and grating laughter masked it. Today, I wanted to make him terrified.
Tri sh was breathing down my neck—the team hadn’t come up with a solid lead in the past two weeks since I’d been shut down by The Six, and I desperately needed to get the fuck away from Carlisle as soon as possible.
Even though I knew as long as Hillary Lane lived here I’d be inevitably tied to this godforsaken place. Aaron Rodriguez’s life in my hands and the annoying Irish imp getting too close to our secrets meant I’d be here for a lot longer than planned.
Killing Lauchlan still wasn’t off the table, no matter what Hillary wanted. He’d gotten her guard down enough to track her. That didn’t sit well—my gut roiled with sour acid every time I considered if it had been somebody else who’d gotten under her skin.
Lauchlan was manipulative and smarter than he looked, but he wasn’t dangerous; not in the ways I worried about. I was good at reading intent—the body was full of signs if you knew where to look—and nothing about the annoying man’s energy said ‘rapist’ or ‘serial killer.’
Since he’d slipped under Hillary’s radar, though, I needed to up my protective measures.
He was trained to withstand torture. That wasn’t something someone just learned off the street. He was a career criminal of some kind; I just didn’t know what—and I was going to find out.
I shook my head to rid myself of the creeping memories. Memories of ramming my cock into his ass so hard I’d seen stars. The vision of him squirming and so desperate for me—he would have done just about anything for me to fuck him fast and hard.
One word—that was all I got out of him. Impressive and disappointing. I’d need to try again. Then I could kill him.
In thirty-eight years, no one had been my undoing. No one . Now, I found myself completely beholden to a woman who held my balls and my heart, and a man who I’d just as easily kill as I would fuck, but my curiosity was pushing me to make bad decisions.
Dangerous decisions.
“Kellan, doll! So lovely to see you!”
Jediah graced me with his presence by flouncing down the stairs in a magenta silk robe, open to reveal tiger print satin boxers and nothing else.
Four gold chains of varying lengths hung around his neck; the entire ensemble looked like he was the Cirque du Soleil version of Hugh Hefner.
Standing to greet him, the smaller man attempted to pull me in to kiss my cheeks, but I refused to budge. His smile faltered as he took in my angry stare.
“Come, come, Kellan. You know I’m not an early riser. So sorry to keep you waiting.” He dipped his head in apology and motioned for me to follow him, leading me into a secondary, smaller parlor off the first room. He waved me in and gestured for me to sit in a much larger, more comfortable leather chair.
I said nothing as I held eye contact and slowly lowered, then leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. Interlacing my fingers, I prominently displayed the tattooed knuckles of ‘hell’ and ‘hope’ in his direction. He visibly gulped, pushing himself into a chair opposite me.
“How can I help you?”
“I contacted The Six to set up a target.” I started slowly. “Thank you for their information. Through some investigation ”—my lips curled at the word. I’d much rather be at the maiming stage than the sitting through bullshit interviews stage—“I discovered that someone has a contract out on someone close to me. I want it canceled.”
“Impossible.” To his credit, Jediah sat up straight, all business now, and looked me dead in the eye. “A contract can’t be canceled once it's initiated. They will follow through unless they can’t complete the mission, but I believe that’s only h appened once or twice in the organization’s history. It’s already a done deal.”
“I need a better contact, then.” I growled as my skin heated beneath the confines of my suit. “They won’t be getting my money if they continue their contract against—my friend.”
Jediah’s normally drug-glazed eyes were now lit up with curiosity.
“They aren’t killers, Kellan. I’m sure your ‘friend’ isn’t in any danger. Surely, if they are in your circles, this person can afford whatever contract has been taken out on them?”
Harsh laughter bubbled up in my chest. Hillary was always in danger; the woman was a magnet for mayhem. I almost felt for the poor fucker who’d been handed the assignment to screw her over. When she figured out who it was—definitely a matter of when, not if, because I would find them and deliver them to her on a platter—her revenge would be far bloodier than mine ever could.
“‘Danger’ isn’t what concerns me. The Carlos Cartel doesn’t like it when someone fucks around with what’s ours.”
“I see.” Jediah’s face contorted into a frown—or what would have been a frown if he hadn’t been heavily injected with Botox. “Well, if I had to guess, I would say it’s an item. I’ve heard rumors that a few of our wealthy elite have some artwork that our European counterparts would like to get their hands on. It’s certainly in line with The Six’s reputation.”
The Six were renowned for the theft of high-value items—I groaned inwardly as I considered all the paintings and expensive jewelry my billionaire woman might have all over the state. Shit I had never paid attention to, so now I was heavily behind the eight ball.
I shifted my position in the seat and relaxed my posture as if this conversation wasn’t annoying the shit out of me.
“All of this for some artwork?”
“ Ahhhh, I know it isn’t the dangerous drugs and weapons you are used to peddling, my dear friend.” Jediah’s tone brokered the line of mocking and respectful. “But stolen artwork and dealings of said artwork is a billion-dollar black market industry. Quite lucrative in the right hands. Whatever the contract is, it will be for something truly sensational.”
Sensational. Hillary probably had seven ‘sensational’ things, if not seventy. I shifted gears.
“Could I take out a contract on the person who took out the contract on—them?”
Jediah smirked, his knowing eyes seeing more than I wanted.
“You could. In theory.” He cocked his head. “You would need to know what you are after, though. The Six only fulfill contracts for something specifically stated—a tangible. They are not ‘hitmen for hire.’”
“I know plenty of those already.” I waved a hand dismissively, ready to get out of this house and away from Jediah’s simpering energy. I stood abruptly, taking two steps forward to loom over the man in question.
“I trust you’ll use your discretion over this conversation, Jediah. Antonio doesn’t take kindly to breaches in trust. Neither do I.” I stepped in closer and lowered my head to peer into the whites of his widened eyes.
“I won’t hesitate to cut off your pipeline, or slip a little something extra into your own personal supply, if I hear otherwise.”
Nodding, he swallowed his tongue before sputtering, “Yes, of course, Kellan!”
I strode out of the parlor and out to the driveway without another word. Leaning against the headrest in my Jeep, I contemplated the next steps.
I was still investigating the fake HR complaint against Hillary; I needed to report back to Antonio on Aaron’s fake death, and somehow figure out how Lauchlan could be useful in taking down Marco before I was forced into managing the horrific realities of human trafficking. January was only a month and a half away, and each second ticked by like there was a live bomb hovering above my ear.
Somehow, every aspect of my life now revolved around my Killer’s orbit, and it was getting more impossible by the day to get out of her gravitational pull.
She wasn’t a star—she was a gaping black hole of variables I couldn’t control and decisions I couldn’t protect her from. A hole I couldn’t escape—I wouldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried to resist.
I was well and truly fucked.
“Load up boys, we’re killing cabrons tonight!”
Mical rubbed his hands gleefully at the anticipation of a killing spree The scar across his cheek had healed, but his smile caused his skin to pull in a grimacing twist; the Joker-like rictus suited his darkness perfectly.
I couldn’t deny the statement. We would kill tonight. My brothers, idiots that they were, had successfully discovered Alvarez’s base of operations for their weapons dealings—deals they’d been stealing from us, and Antonio had ordered we take them down by whatever means necessary.
Normally, I would issue the orders, but the Cartel head decided that we needed a firmer hand. Antonio didn’t care if all of Carlisle became a war zone—he didn’t care about its people or its children. Just revenge, power, and more money to be made.
So, I bit my tongue and would channel my rage into the gangbangers who deserved it—the men who preyed on the weak. My body count might double tonight, depending on the blood bath awaiting us, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.
Jon ah nodded lazily beside him, fueled with whatever drug he’d taken before arriving at the family compound nestled in the hidden pass between Carlisle and Cascade Falls.
The three of us stood at the warehouse entrance, the open doors letting in frigid mountain air and freezing my skin. Several men and a few women were arming themselves with weapons, ammunition, and protective gear, awaiting their orders to move out.
My orders.
Before I could holler to the swelling crowd, the glaring headlights of a vehicle flooded the space behind us. Despite all the activity, the three us spun on our heels, weapons raised to take out the intruder.
I relaxed only slightly when I saw the familiar black SUV—our father had graced us with his presence tonight. A rarity.
His men stepped out first, the same three as last time with the bald man as his driver. Then Antonio climbed out of the vehicle dressed in black combat fatigues and armed to the teeth.
“El Companeros !” he cried, his breaths causing billows of steam in the chilly night air. “Tonight, we fight!”
Jonah and I exchanged a wary glance as Mical let out a bellowing war cry, as if our father showing up wasn’t an issue.
For him, it probably wasn’t. He thrived on chaos and this development only added to it. I clearly was losing my father’s trust, a dangerous position to be in, heir or not. I’d have to prove myself tonight or risk the consequences.
I counted to ten backwards in my mind as I made my way over to Antonio’s hired help.
“Getting bored at the palace?” I teased lightly as I shook his hand over the din of whoops and hollers behind me.
“I didn’t want to miss the takedown of our enemies,” he replied with a casual smile— his most dangerous. He grippe d my wrist and pulled me closer, his steaming breath hot on my cheek. “What is the status of our other enemy? Is he buried yet?”
If he was asking, he already knew. I shook my head gruffly, as if his question annoyed me instead of terrified me.
“I have everything set up to take the heat away from us. This piece”—I nodded around us—“will be the perfect diversion. Billionaires can’t just go missing.”
He tutted a condescending tsk under his breath while he continued to stare me down. “You plan too much, hijo . Sometimes, we must simply be men of action, yes?” He bared his teeth, the casual smile molding into a vicious sneer. “Be a man of action tonight, Kellan. I am tired of you disappointing me.”
I pulled out of his grasp, swallowed my hatred for the man, and turned to face the waiting crowd. “GPS coordinates are set,” I barked, my fury at my father filtering through my face as if for our enemies. “We hit them hard and fast. Kill shots for anyone about to kill you. We need a few alive, so incapacitate where possible.”
“Cut off their hands!” Mical shouted maniacally in the background to a myriad of hoots and enthusiastic screams. I ignored him and continued.
“Once everyone is incapacitated, get out of there. No witnesses, no stragglers. Get the fuck out of dodge, and do not come back here until one of us”—I nodded to my brothers, leaving out our latest Carlos guest—“reaches out to you. Drop the vehicles to the Cascade Falls black site and then get home as soon as possible. Capisce ?”
Our trained soldiers immediately piled into the waiting black Jeeps, Mical and Jonah joining them. I stayed back until all the other vehicles were driving down the dirt road before turning to my father. “Are you driving with me?”
“I’ll drive on my own, but I want the prisoners brought to my site.” His hard stare was non-negotiable. He waved a hand t oward the three stoic bodyguards still standing silently beside us. “My men will do the interrogating this time around.”
Dipping my head in acknowledgment, I headed to my own Jeep and took off down the road, determined to get to the site before everyone else, using the alternate route I’d programmed into my GPS. It should shave off five minutes or so. I needed to be there first to see what we were dealing with, and give Trish a head’s up we were taking out the trash tonight.
She was going to be pissed I’d given her so little notice, but our twenty-something year history would grant me some slack.
I arrived as I’d predicted and parked the vehicle off to the side of the road between two brick buildings at just the right distance. I staked out the scene before sending off a cryptic text to my mentor.
The building was nondescript at first glance—just a regular, metal-clad square box with a single light post outside to light up the front garage bay. We’d already scoped out the building using drone footage and two foot soldiers, so I knew where the four hidden security cameras were installed above the entry points and cover behind the building.
I hadn’t told Mical or Jonah about my secret weapon; a powerful signal jammer Hillary’s hacker had built for me. I’d hired her to do the job as a one-off, but now I knew the scope of her skill set, I’d be hiring her for more, but I didn’t need my brothers getting their hands on another tool to make them more dangerous.
I always used a security jammer when I had to show up to take-downs in person—but nothing as good as Blackbird’s hardware. It was the only way I could minimize the evidence of my involvement with Cartel business to keep tiptoeing on the FBI’s tightrope.
Hea ring the rumble of our entourage in the distance, I set up the jammer and hit the red button. Climbing out of the vehicle, I pulled on my face mask and tightened my gun belt.
Black-clad trained killers nodded as they marched past me to the building beyond. Exhaling my unrelenting sense of foreboding, I followed our makeshift army into the fray.
The next hour flew by in a flurry of bloodshed. My brothers led the charge with me close behind, covering for their recklessness while they ripped through the building of trained killers like unbridled cowboys.
One quick fucker, a heavily scarred man with a shaved head, got through their formation and shoved a sawed-off shotgun into my face. My knife ripped through his spleen before he pulled the trigger, and he fell to the ground with a piercing scream of agony.
The Alvarez men were vicious in their delivery and hungry to kill; our element of surprise only gave us so much of an advantage. Our crew fought through the cohort; gunpowder and the metallic stench of blood enriched the air as each member of Alvarez’s crew was wiped from existence.
I fired the last bullet into the last sorry fuck who’d made the wrong choice in showing up for work tonight. Warm flecks of blood spattered my cheek as his skull shattered three paces away from me.
I felt nothing as his corpse collapsed to the dirt at my feet.
It wasn’t just their supply warehouse as we had originally suspected, but their clubhouse; the back of the building contained a pool hall, kitchen, and several bedrooms, even windows looking out into the garage.
They heard and saw us coming, frantically grabbing their own weapons and calling to the others for backup, but once we’d taken control of the outward operation, the inside group didn’t have a chance.
I s earched the bedrooms one by one as Jonah and Mical secured a few prisoners and killed the rest. The remainder of our group loaded up weapons and moved out the cargo into waiting transport trucks as quickly as possible.
I blasted open a locked bedroom door with a single shot, surprised to find a bulging man laying in bed with several women chained to the bedposts, their naked bodies shivering from fear as wide eyes peered at me through the dim light of the lamp by the bedside.
Their heads lolled lazily despite their panic, and I knew with certainty they’d been drugged.
In the fraction of a second it took to assess the situation, the man whipped out a pistol, cocking it quickly. Quick reflexes and years of training kicked in, and I shot the gun out of his hand before he could lift his finger from the trigger.
He screamed in agony and fell back to the mattress, holding his bleeding hand to his chest, rocking back and forth in shock from the pain.
I yanked the greasy black hair off his scalp, pulling him up to face me. “Where is the key?” I nodded to the cuffs on the women’s wrists and used my other gloved hand to force my finger into his gaping wound. I immediately removed the pressure, needing to know its location before the man passed out on me.
“T-t-there,” he sputtered, pointing his uninjured hand into the bedside drawer. Keeping my grip on his scalp, I tore open the drawer, disgusted by the pile of used needles and bags of powder alongside the single silver key. I carefully picked it up and let go of my captive, quickly uncuffing the women.
“Get out!” I shouted, shoving them through the doorway toward safety downstairs. I didn’t wait to watch them skitter down the hallway—I turned my attention back to my next victim.
“You like drugging women for fun?”
A s heen of stinking sweat dripped from the man’s brow as he cowered in fear, shrinking further into the bedsheets as he cradled his bloody hand. Small whimpers filtered through his lips, but he said nothing.
“There is no excuse for men like you.” Climbing on top of him, I restricted all of his movements between my thighs, ignoring the little blood that seeped into my clothes. There was about to be so much more. “Let me show you what it feels like to have something taken from you.”
I took out my favorite sharpened blade from my pocket and held it against the flesh of his stomach. Sobs escaped him as I cut a deep line from the hair of his belly-button up to his sternum. Then I gripped both sides of his abdomen and pried the cut apart, exposing the soft internal flesh beneath.
A darkness took over me, desperate to be fed. Without hesitation, I pushed my hand through the opening, gripped the slippery tubing of his intestine, and pulled it through his skin.
His sobs waned to deafening silence as his body succumbed to shock, going limp as he passed out.
A slew of gunshots tore me from my task. Leaving the man to die slowly in his own filth, I took the steps two at a time and raced back down to the warehouse floor.
My stomach twisted into my throat at the three women with holes where their hearts used to be, bloody and naked on the earthen warehouse floor, their eyes no longer seeing this world.
Antonio’s calculating, emotionless gaze stared back at me. “Drugged girls have no value to us.” He calmly placed his gun back into his belt and turned on his heel towards his waiting men.
“Move out,” he called to the echoing chamber, and the remaining members of our crew scattered at his command.
I s tared hard at the bodies before me, allowing their image to harden my resolve, their blank stares and lifeless forms cementing my path forward.
My allegiance to this family had frayed to the point of no salvation. Whatever Hillary needed from me to fulfill her vendetta, I would do it.
Alvarez and Antonio were g oing to die by my hand, and it wouldn’t come soon enough.