Hale is dead?
HALE IS DEAD?
I lifted my head from the constant barrage of messages on my phone. Curiosity gripped me as I opened Facebook and searched his name…
Bad move.
He was everywhere. Images of the police dragging his waterlogged body from the river was the first thing you saw. He was certainly working hard to make it well known he was no longer a threat.
But that was just like him, wasn’t it?
A liar.
A strategist…
And very much a threat.
I closed down the app, then opened my messages.
I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there, I typed, then hit send, not waiting for a response before I rose from my seat and left the study behind.
It was time to know for sure. To look that bastard in the cloudy fucking eyes and ease that clenched fist in my gut. The one which told me Hale was more dangerous right now than he’d ever been…
I pulled on my jacket over my shoulder holster and strode out of the house, hating I was leaving my family behind. But this had to be done.
Beep.
I lifted my phone as I pressed the button and unlocked the new Audi I’d had delivered. Gleaming black paintwork, brushed black steel wheels. It was stunning. I’d better keep it away from Vivienne. But I didn’t linger on the thought as I climbed in and read the message.
Rossi: We need to meet.
“What the fuck now?” I muttered and typed out exactly that.
Rossi: We have a problem.
When didn’t we? I glanced at the time and winced. I didn’t have time for this. Not now at least. I typed…
Give me an hour.
It was barely a second later.
Rossi: I’ll be at our warehouse.
I knew the one. A refrigerator trucking company on the outskirts of the city. What was so goddamn important? Whatever it was, it was big. But right now, I had other very dead matters to attend to. I started the brand new car and put it into gear, backing out of the driveway.
By the time I turned onto the highway, the night was already darkening. Twilight, a perfect time to view a body. At least it wasn’t midnight.
Beep.
I ground my teeth and glanced at the screen as the message scrolled.
DeLuca: There are no major injuries. Internal swelling, but the scan shows the bleeding has stopped. It’s a fucking miracle, but Colt’s going to make a physical recovery. My most pressing concern is his mental state. He needs a full psych workup, London. I know you—
I leaned forward and pressed the button to end the voicemail. He didn’t need a goddamn shrink. Not one I couldn’t control, at least. He needed family. He needed…
Her.
His Wildcat.
I worked the gears, speeding hard as my pulse raced and I fought the need to turn the car around and look for her. Fuck if we didn’t all crave her. Especially now that she…
Colt’s the father.
If she thought I’d be upset by that, then she’d be wrong. I wanted her now more than ever. The thought of her belly swelling and her breasts growing larger did something unexplainable to me.
“Jesus,” I groaned as I reached down and tugged the crotch of my pants.
She might carry his now.
But one day, she’d have mine.
I’d fuck her day and night until she did.
The thought stayed with me as the sky grew darker and I turned onto the off-ramp and headed for the main mortuary in the city. I’d put many in there, but a place like that was never on the top of my list to attend…until now.
Now it was a necessity.
I pulled into the street and caught sight of headlights flashing before I parked near the black Range Rover. The doctor climbed out at the same time as I did. Boots crunched on the asphalt.
“DeLuca,” I muttered.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” he grumbled, turning to the square concrete building.
I followed, saying nothing when he walked in, showed his ID, and filled out a document handed his way on a clipboard by a middle-aged woman who watched me from behind thick black-rimmed glasses. I didn’t meet her gaze, just stared at the empty waiting room until DeLuca handed the clipboard back and thanked her.
“Come on,” he directed, leaving her behind.
I followed him, pushing through a set of double doors that led along a hallway. His pace was punishing, but I kept up, moving in close. “What did you tell them?”
He shot me a glare. “Does it matter?”
No. I guess it didn’t. Still, I wanted my name out of it.
“Don’t worry.” He stopped, pressed his ID to the sensor, and pushed through the locked doors. “You weren’t on the paperwork.”
“Good.” I followed him through the doors, then we turned.
The pungent scent of antiseptic hit me. I winced, hating that my pulse was already speeding. It wasn’t the dead I was scared of…only the truth. DeLuca pressed his card to the scanner on the second set of doors, but I fixed my gaze on the stainless steel bank of refrigerated drawers on the other side of the doors.
He pushed through, and I followed. For a second, I couldn’t move, frozen by my own racing thoughts. What if it was him? What if it was Hale…what would I do then?
There were more of them out there.
More Hales…
Some who were worse.
Years, that’s how long it’d taken Helene to crack the information on the chip she’d taken from the Vault.
Years.
I couldn’t wait that long.
Always watching.
Always waiting.
For them to take what’s mine.
It was the image of Vivienne big and round, her belly full of life, that drove me forward. I stepped into the room, scanning the stainless steel tables as DeLuca grabbed a clipboard hanging from the wall.
“B13,” he muttered, then placed it back. “I hope you’re ready for this. There was some degree of decomposition from being in the water.”
I ground my teeth, clinging to the image of the woman I’d make my wife and answered. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Suit yourself,” he sighed, tugged on a set of gloves, and strode toward the drawers.
One yank and a hiss of air rushed out.
It’s not him.
It’s not him.
DeLuca reached in, grabbed the handle of the slide and pulled, dragging the black body bag with it. Hale, said the name tag attached to the side. I winced at the sight. Water sloshed inside as DeLuca tugged on the zipper, pulling it all the way down.
Gray wrinkled skin.
The room sucked out all the air.
I stared as the doc pushed the sides apart.
Dark hair plastered against puffy flesh. I stepped closer, peering at the man who looked like the man I hated most in this world.
“Do you remember if he has any distinguishing marks or scars you remember?”
I tried to think.
He picked up the hands, peering at Hale’s trimmed nails, then turned his hands over. “Huh, that’s interesting.”
I jerked my gaze upwards. “What?”
“The pads of his fingers have been burned.”
That band across my chest cinched tighter. “What?”
He twisted the wrist as far as it’d go. “Someone has burned his fingerprints off with acid by the looks of it.”
“His teeth, they’ll confirm identity with that, won’t they?”
He scowled, then strode back to the folder, leaving me alone with the corpse. I hate you. I wanted to scream the words to his face. I wish your death belonged to me.
“According to the records, he has a full set of dentures, so that rules out dental.”
I jerked my gaze to him. “What did you say?”
DeLuca held up the folder. “A full set of teeth.”
I left the body and took a step toward him. “No, that’s not true. He doesn’t have all his teeth. I know because I knocked one of them out, lower middle molar on the left.”
But DeLuca just shook his head. “Not according to the paperwork.”
A mole on his left shoulder. “And he has a mole on the back of his left shoulder,” I added as the memory of him with a Daughter at The Order came rushing back.
She was crying.
He was fucking.
I stood there, staring at the corpse while my stomach churned and my soul died a little more. “It was dark, raised.”
“You sure?” DeLuca was interested now.
“I’m fucking positive.”
He walked over, stepping to the left side this time, tugged the bag lower, and reached inside. I followed as that fist of desperation drove deeper into my chest. The bag creaked as the doc yanked an arm out, then reached under, gripped the body tightly, and lifted.
The entire thing moved, but only a little. He grunted, straining as he lifted again. “A hand would be good,” he growled.
No…no fucking way.
He jerked his gaze to mine. “You want to see the mole or not?”
“Goddamn it,” I grumbled as I unbuttoned my jacket and pulled it off. Revulsion rose as I yanked the sleeves of my shirt and rolled them up.
The pudgy flesh was cold. My fingers sank in as I gripped the body around the back of the neck and yanked.
Crunch
I winced, grunting as the body suddenly shot upwards. But I didn’t care about that, I was too busy looking at the gray flesh of the shoulders.
There was no mole.
There was no fucking mole.
“It’s not there.” The doc searched the smooth skin and shook his head.
I met his stare as we let the body fall back down. “I knew it. The sonofabitch is still out there.”
I WATCHED the red lights of the Range Rover flare once before the four-wheel drive turned and disappeared around the corner. A shudder tore free as I gripped the wheel, taking a deep, sudden breath. The heady scent of the brand new car invaded to fill my lungs, overpowering the stench of the dead.
He’s still out there.
Rage burned inside me, making me strangle the wheel. Was he watching me…laughing because his plan worked. It was a smart plan…for someone like him with no backbone. I leaned forward, stabbed the button, and started the engine.
Only now I had a bigger task on my hands. How the hell did you track a dead man? I didn’t know. But I’d figure it out. I’d find the bastard who’d betrayed me and almost killed my son, and when I did…
When I did…
I’d look in his eyes, smile, then shoot the bastard in the head myself.
The engine of the Audi growled into gear and pulled forward, eager to be rid of the mortuary. My thoughts turned to the warehouse on the outskirts of the city and the Rossis waiting for me. I tried to think what it could be, but my thoughts kept drifting to Vivienne.
I glanced at the phone, fighting the urge to call her.
She’s pregnant.
My breath moved a little deeper with the thought. We’d need to do more than find Hale and the rest of the now splintered Order. My days and nights were soon to be busy, hunting, killing…and getting ready for our baby.
The image of that consumed me. By the time I turned into the sprawling industrial compound, I’d almost forgotten why I was there. The Rossis…that’s right. Something so damn important that it couldn’t wait.
I slowed the car and turned into the driveway, to find the bright lights of the trucking company still in full swing. Trucks were being loaded. Rossi Haulage was printed on the sides of gleaming trucks. But the gates to the compound were still closed. I pulled up next to the darkened guard hut, scanning the otherwise empty compound, and swore under my breath.
“You’d better be fucking here,” I muttered.
Then a sharp knock on the window jolted me.
I jerked my gaze to the guard standing outside the door, peering at me. I stabbed the button to wind down the window.
“Mr. St. James?”
“Yes,” I forced through clenched teeth, watching him scan the rest of the car. “Looking for something?”
He didn’t answer, just stepped back and turned his head. I followed his gaze, seeing movement in the hut before the gates in front of me opened.
“You can drive in, sir.” He motioned toward the main building. “Mr. Rossi and Lazarus are waiting for you.”
“He’d better be,” I muttered, moving from being annoyed to seriously pissed off.
What the fuck was going on? I pulled the car in, parked it under the glaring exterior lights, and switched off the engine. Benjamin had better have a good reason to drag me all the fucking way out here, then check me over like a goddamn schmuck. A real good reason.
I closed the door, not bothering to lock it, and strode to the closed massive roller doors, focusing on the small door to its side. The regular-size door opened as I neared. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a savage hunger in his stare. You could almost mistake Lazarus Rossi for a Son if you didn’t know better…lucky for me, I did.
“Laz.” I glanced toward the front of the compound. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Better we show you. Dad’s waiting inside.”
I stopped outside the door, searching his stare as that nagging voice in my head warned steady. I peered inside, finding nothing more than shadows. I didn’t like this. Not the dangerous glint in his stare, or the clipped way he spoke. These were dangerous times and Hale was still out there, or was he here, maybe holding them hostage?
The memory of that boardroom where I’d had Hale’s brand new buddies held hostage returned. They were free now, being observed. Still, you couldn’t be too sure. “How about you tell me here?”
Laz shook his head and took a step backwards.
My pulse sped. My mind raced.
I was putting a lot of trust in the Rossis here.
My gun was under my jacket. Still in a situation like this, anything could happen.
If they were in danger, then we were all fucked. I stepped in, waiting as Lazarus closed the door behind me.
“Can’t be too careful,” the Mafia son muttered, striding through the gloom toward the rear.
The faint sound of a TV came. Screams, cheering. It wasn’t until I caught the words, “The Kings are heading to the finals!” that I understood.
“Sounds like the Kings won,” I commented, earning myself a cutting glare.
“Didn’t expect them to lose.”
Lazarus was insanely savage about his hockey, and none more than the Crossfell City Kings. The door to the rear office opened and Freddy, their right-hand man, stepped into view. That warning in my gut only grew louder, sending a stab of fear through me.
I rarely got scared. But this had my body tightening.
Until the hitman moved aside and Benjamin Rossi was there, pushing up from leaning back against a desk.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demanded, stepping inside.
The door closed behind me as Ben shook his head, then glanced over his shoulder. “It seems the hitman we spoke about heading out of the city wasn’t just any hitman. It was Cerberus.”
“Cerebus?” I repeated, that nagging voice in my head growing stone cold.
Cerberus wasn’t just any hitman. It was actually three…working for any ruthless bastard with deep enough pockets. Someone just like Hale.
From the corner of my eye, the door to the rear of the office building opened…
My heart was pounding as all four of them stepped out, moving toward me like a river of wrath. Three towered in front, crowded by a very pregnant young woman.
My mind raced, trying to figure out the implications of this. “You were supposed to stay gone.”
“Oh, yeah?” Tobias Banks glared, his lip curling in a sneer. “Tell that to the bastard who bombed our fucking house and abducted us.”
