10. Sinister Delights
10
SINISTER DELIGHTS
“I have nothing to say to you,” I growl at Scarlett as she approaches. I continue staging my crime scene so I don’t have to deal with her right now.
“I warned you not to mess with me,” she says in a coy tone. “Revenge and freedom, a solid two-for-one. I thought you’d be impressed. I’m getting almost as efficient as you.”
I shake my head, refusing to engage. I’m busy anyway. Too busy for soap opera drama I never asked for in the first place.
“What is all this?” she continues. “Is it a good idea to have so much cash out in the open?”
I glare back at her, even more annoyed that she’d question me. I preferred the gloating.
“What I’m doing doesn’t concern you. In fact, you shouldn’t even be here. How’d you get past Abe? He’s supposed to be guarding the door.”
She returns a venomous look I know well. “You don’t get to tell me where I can and can’t go. And I hate to break it to you, but no one was at the entrance of the wine cellar.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, spinning back to my display with sudden urgency.
I scan the scene I’ve spent the last two hours meticulously setting up for my photoshoot. I can’t afford to hide it all and start over, but… shit.
My stomach grinds at the thought of what I’m about to say, but what choice do I have? Damn Abe for putting me in this position. I’m going to beat the shit out of him when I find him.
“Can you do me a favor?” The words come out with way more benevolence than I feel. I can’t even look at her face. I don’t have to. I feel the sinister delight emanating from her.
“Anything for you, baby,” she coos in a fake drawl she knows will rile me. She also knows I have to take it. I have to take anything she throws at me right now.
My jaw tightens as I rein in my anger. “Stand outside the door to the cellar until Abe gets back and make sure no one comes down.”
Her smile widens and cuts into me. Her gaze too.
“Hmm… I could do that,” she says, tracing her lower lip while openly scanning me.
I pull in a deep breath. “What do you want? And no, I will not fuck you for this.”
“ For this? So that means…” Her smile turns vicious, and I grind my teeth.
“Scarlett, please. I don’t have time for games. Just tell me what you want.”
“Why do you always have to be an ass about everything?” she whines, crossing her arms.
“Scarlett!”
“Fine. Dinner tonight. Private. In my room.”
Ice washes through me as I weigh my options. What options? I look back at the stacks of cash I’ve arranged to make it look like a huge deal just went down. I even took the time to sort the bills and arrange the duffle bags in convincing proportions in case the Hartfords scrutinize the images. Even if I was willing to put it all back and start over later, there’s a chance I’d be seen while packing up. It took forever to drag all this shit out of the safe. I was given permission for the staging, not to get caught like an amateur.
“Fine,” I grunt. “Just dinner though.”
I meet her gaze with a warning, and her return look sends a wave of revulsion through me.
“Let me know when you’re finished,” she sings in a sickly sweet voice as she heads toward the stairs.
Abe is a fucking dead man.
After finishing my photoshoot and carefully returning every bill to where I got it, I find Merrick in the war room suite to review the images.
“These four,” he says.
I agree. The orientation makes the take seem massive, which is what we want. In reality, I consolidated everything we had on hand to make it look like a single transaction went down. The stash represents months of income. We’ve never done a deal this big. It’s dangerous and risky and would require getting into bed with an operation several times our size.
An operation like the Red Leaf Cartel.
McArthur loves to flaunt the connection I’ve spent a year and a half setting up for him, but I doubt he’ll ever have the balls to use it. Big money means big penalties if things go wrong, and deep down, McArthur is a coward. Being evil doesn’t make you brave; it makes you willing to exploit those who are.
We want the Hartfords to think we’re big time though.
“Hey, about what happened in the penthouse,” Merrick says in a low voice.
I clench my jaw and stuff my phone back in my pocket. “It’s fine.”
“It was bullshit.”
I lift my gaze to his, surprised at the sincerity there.
“You’ve done nothing but prove yourself over and over again. You deserved better than that.” His eyes search mine with an understanding I’ve never gotten from him before. A brotherhood of sorts. Maybe we are brothers now. Trauma binds more than blood, and our entire relationship has been forged by violence.
“I’m just glad Patrick was stupid enough to use our own technology,” I mutter to deflect.
Brother or not, I have no interest in a sentimental moment with Merrick and I’m sure he doesn’t either.
The wary look he spreads around the room confirms my fears. This is about something else.
“He wasn’t that stupid,” Merrick whispers, leaning close.
My stomach tightens at his silent message. “What are you saying?”
Merrick sends another nervous glance around the empty suite before tugging my sleeve to pull my ear toward him.
“He was set up. You both were,” he says.
The familiar anger hardens inside me. “By Scarlett?”
He shakes his head. “Bigger.”
“McArthur?” When he doesn’t respond, I feel sick. “Tell me.”
He tenses and studies the door.
“Merrick! What the fuck is going on? Say it,” I hiss.
His quick glance at the door sends a shiver through me.
“ I planted the device on you, not Patrick. He was just being a jealous, gloating dick in the moment. He had no idea he was about to take the fall. McArthur ordered the hit, and Scarlett helped. Ricky and Stone were witnesses to sell the lie. McArthur wanted Patrick out of the way, while locking you firmly under his thumb.”
“He already owns me. What else could he want from me?”
“Don’t be na?ve, Shaw. You had to see this coming.”
“See what? He’s already taken everything from me.”
“Not everything.”
“What else is there?”
“Your blood.”
A cold sweat breaks out over my body. My blood?
There are several interpretations of that statement. Not one would ease the sudden pressure in my chest.
Merrick lets out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you ever considered running again, now is the time.”
I stare at him in disbelief. This is coming from the man who tortured me for days to prove I can’t.
He must read my confusion, and once again I’m struck by the uncharacteristic concern in his demeanor.
“He’s ready, Shaw. He’s going to force you into the family and activate your connection with the RLC. That’s really what Undertow is about.”