Chapter 47
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I set the alarm, and I’m still going to be pressed for time.
The gate is already open for me as I reverse down the entire length of Bleakcrest’s curvy driveway.
When I hit the road, I swing the front end around and high-tail it back toward the hotel. My phone beeps incessantly from within my pocket, and the urge to toss it out the window is hard to resist. Shantel, no doubt, is the one blowing up my fucking phone with all her texts and repeated calls.
Once I’m on the straightaway, I pull it from my pocket, reading the message previews on the screen. Just as I suspected. Seven messages and three unanswered calls from my head of security.
An incoming message from Mr. Smythe lights up the phone.
Mr. Smythe:
Don’t be late.
Neither my men nor I will appreciate it.
Prick.
Mr. Morgan:
Message received.
Another text doesn’t come in. Crisis hopefully averted. It’s more likely he’s waiting until the conclusion of the exchange to see what I’m made of, wondering how far I’ll go to see this through to the end.
There’s a missed text from Kyle, asking how the hell we can spar when we aren’t supposed to be seen together. I press the Call button. Bastard better answer this time.
“God fucking damn it, Rip, do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Yes. Since when are you in bed this early?”
“Since you started knocking on death’s door and sleep’s become elusive.”
“Shit. I’ll let you go.”
“I’m up now. What do you need?”
“I’m not going to make it to the hotel to check in with Shantel, can you let her know the plan is still a go?”
“You avoiding her or something?”
“No, I just got caught up.”
“In someone’s pussy?”
“Yes, obviously. Will you let her know to move everyone into position now. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Smythe to have his goons in place already. But, as long as we’re not hostile, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I don’t fucking like this. I should be there with you. What if something happens?”
“Nothing’s going to happen, Ky. Everything’s gone smoothly so far.”
“So far,” he scoffs.
“Don’t you have a flight to catch soon?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Try to get some rest before you have to be there. It’s three hours prior right? Or four?”
“Maybe I’ll go five hours ahead, just in case.”
Kyle never fails to pick up on my jokes, or go along with them. It’s what brought us together in the first place. Running a ruse on the substitute teacher back in eighth grade when we were both gangly teens.
I chuff a laugh. “Okay, get some rest, and don’t forget to pack some nice clothes so we can live it up while we’re there.”
“Already done. And I’ve got your personal credit card to enjoy myself with while leaving a very easy trail to follow.”
“Yeah, yeah. Have fun, asshole. You deserve it. I’ll see you soon.”
“You better touch base with me after this handoff.”
“I will. And you’ll talk to Shantel for me?”
“Yeah, I’ll call her right now,” he grumbles.
“Thanks, bestie! You’re the tits!”
“Later, weirdo.”
The line goes silent, and I toss the phone onto the passenger seat. The drive is long enough for my mind to wander, and I grimace, navigating my way across the still and silent island to the port.
Maximus’s employees swarm around me and the small flank of my own men, encasing us in a circle of darkness. All but their eyes are hidden beneath black full-face masks, each one wearing Maximus’s usual all-black uniform of compression shirts, cargo pants, and tactical boots.
I’m about to hand over twelve of my own team members to infiltrate the walls of Bleakcrest, and fighting back the dire need to regurgitate the gas station hot dog I scarfed down on the way here.
Any one of these men, with their assault rifles, could put a bullet in my unprotected chest. If this plan has been compromised, we’d all be gunned down before I could do a thing about it.
Reining myself in, I let the sinister business man persona slip on like a second skin.
If it weren’t for Rose, I wouldn’t know another part of me existed. However, I’m not about to be the reason this plan goes belly-up. So, whatever the hell she’s awoken inside me needs to go back into hiding.
At least for now.
The door lock to the sea can clangs as metal collides when I disengage it. The rusty hinges groaning as the heavy door swings open.
Lonnie, a newer recruit, casts me one fearful glance before hiding it away, and presenting a mask of stone. She signed up for this. But the knowledge she’s willingly walking into hell for the chance at a better future that most likely won’t come is hard to swallow.
The rest of my sacrifices bear expressions that range from worry to impassiveness.
All resigned to their sorrowful fate. They’re scared without their weapons, dressed as civilians.
It’s understandable. I would be too in their position.
They’ll have to rely on their instincts and training to get them through this.
Though I told Maximus my product was more agreeable to his work, I wonder if any team members are regretting their decisions to be whatever’s demanded of them.
There’s nothing I can do about it now.
Even if I wanted to.
We are out-gunned and out numbered.
The self-loathing I carry burdens me further as Rose slithers into my thoughts once more.
This is neither the time nor the place for it.
But her squawk of confusion before I left threatens to pull a smile onto my half-hidden face.
The neck gaiter is pulled up over my nose, concealing my identity from any onlookers or cameras.
But it won’t obscure the crinkling around my eyes if my emotions break free.
“Is this everyone?” the tallest of the group asks. Though all of his features are concealed, a single strand of stark white hair peeks out from beneath his full-faced mask.
Richmond.
I nod. “Everything is contained to this sea can. If your boss likes the goods, all can be doubled next shipment.”
Richmond nods, gaze sweeping over the new acquisition of slaves.
“Listen up,” he sharply directs. All eyes shoot to him, and he fights to restrain his elation.
He looks from side to side, to the men flanking each of his shoulders, waving them forward with a small flick of the wrist. “Each one of you will present your right hand. A band is being placed upon it—“
His words are cut off as a small commotion arises.
Lonnie struggles, resisting against the fist gripping her forearm.
“What is this?” she hisses at the man. “I’m not some dog that needs to be tracked.
” Lonnie shoves her shoulder into Richmond’s man.
Probably hoping to break his hold and make a run for it.
However, her attempt is fruitless. The man doesn’t release her, and his glare says it all—she’ll pay for that.
Most likely in the same way my flower did.
Quick as a whip, Richmond swipes a pistol from the holster on his thigh.
He raises it.
Firing a single shot.
Bang.
It’s over before I can object.
The boom ricochets through the metal box, deafening us all, as some scramble to cover their ears.
Lonnie’s head snaps back, bullet piercing her between the eyes. A hot wash of blood, skull fragments, and brain matter spray over those behind her. Colouring everything in a spatter of crimson gore.
Blood drips off the fear coating the room like a film, as her collapsing dead weight rivals the loudest boom of thunder in the heavy silence. The shock is thick, hushed, suffocating. My quiet breath sounding more like a roar, as my composure threatens to slip.
Richmond clears his throat, gathering everyone’s attention. “There will be no resisting. No uprisings. No escape attempts,” Richmond drawls. “You will present your wrists and comply as my comrades place the band upon it.”
The two men move slowly through the remaining eleven people, casting worrisome glances between them. Their movements are slow, but precise. Like a craftsman setting the fuse on a bomb.
The heat in this shipping container becomes near asphyxiating, my anxiety mounting, as the men work methodically through their task.
When finished, I breathe a silent sigh of relief.
“The devices you’ve been adorned with ensure your loyalty.
” Richmond pulls something from his pocket.
A small remote, it seems from afar. He presses a button and every one of the bands alight with an eerie green glow.
“They are now armed, and the snake venom held within has no cure. When deployed, you will be struck by two prongs—making your demise seem nothing more than an accident. The death, while swift, is brutal and excruciating. So I suggest you all follow orders accordingly.”
Clearly, they’ve stolen those snakes from the governed island and are milking them in-house. Bucky’s assumption has to be right. It’s the only thing that makes sense as to why he would have an abundance of the deathly serum.
Richmond turns his back, voice low as he addresses the rest of his squad. They all jerk a quick nod and disperse around the container, fetching the crates of contraband that need to be moved.
“One more thing…” he looks over my fearful team. “If one of you dies, you all die. The red button,” he holds up his hand, showcasing the remote, “activates every device. You’ll move as a unit and die as a unit. Don’t fucking stray.”
He lets his words hang in the air, waiting for objections that are sure not to come. I know they’ll bend to any one’s will, if only to protect their fellow comrades and friends. Lonnie was new, still finding her place in the squad I keep. She’ll be missed, but her death won’t cripple us.
“Move out!” he snaps. His squad circles my own, leading them from the shipping container.
Richmond steps to me, only a few hairs taller. “I trust you’ll take care of this mess? Since she was one of yours.”
“Don’t want to take her back to your hovel and string her up?” The words needed to bolster this mask I wear leave the tang of self-loathing thick on my tongue. Whatever it takes to complete the mission, I remind myself. Though, the repeated mantra doesn’t lift the weight of regret.
“No, Mr. Morgan. I prefer them breathing. Screaming. Bleeding. Just like your little whore did for me.”
Fuck, I want to pummel his face. I know he’s waiting for it. But I won’t jeopardize all of this for her, to protect her honour, when what he says is true.
“She may have screamed for you and that knife of yours, but she’ll cry for me.”
I think I’ve got him. No rebuttal for him to toss my way.
But he chuffs. “Oh, how little you really know.”
“What do you mean by that?” I try to remain neutral, fighting to keep the ire from my voice. “What don’t I know?” All I can think of is Reid, and how he wouldn’t tell me shit either. Nothing but cryptic messages and half-truths.
“You’ll see. All in due time.”
“Richmond,” I growl, low and guttural.
“Have a good night, Mr. Morgan. I’ll be seeing you.”
With that, he disappears through the gap in the doorway. Leaving me alone with my few guards and Lonnie’s rapidly cooling body.
She deserved much better than this—than getting wrapped up with me.