The Mercenary: Skewed Part 9

"You keep saying 'they,'" I said.

"This isn't down to a lone wolf," he replied. "Think about it. There are already two of them dead over there, and now someone else is calling you, and I doubt that person is working alone either. There are two ways to be in this job-solitary, like me, so that you slip under the radar and you have little contact with anyone, and that's what keeps you safe. Or else you surround yourself with likeminded people and watch each other's backs."

"So, a gang?"

He nodded again. "Yeah, a gang-most likely a rival mafia outfit."

"And now they have my sister."

"I'm sorry," he said.

I turned on him. "No, you're not. How could you be? You don't give a f.u.c.k about us. Why should you? You don't even know us, and it was barely twenty-four hours ago that you were planning on shooting me!"

"A lot can change in a day."

"Yeah, you got that right. This time yesterday, we were safe, and I didn't have a hit man and two dead bodies in my cellar. Yesterday, I'd thought I'd get to testify against my father, and that we'd go on to live our lives. Now I don't know if we're even going to be alive in another twenty-four hours."

The question was, if I released X, was that likely to increase our chance of survival or decrease it? If I didn't release him, what would I do? I could drive to New York and start asking some questions, but chances were I'd end up dead within a few hours. Word would get back to my father quickly enough, and even if it didn't, there were still enough of his guys around who would know he wanted me dead and would carry out the job for him. I'd most likely end up with a bullet through my mouth, a sign that I was a rat.

That thought made my heart hurt. A lot of those guys had seen me grow up, had bounced me on their knees when I was little and twirled my pigtails and called me sweetheart. That they would see me dead hurt almost as much as what my father had done, or made me do.

If I released X and he turned on me right away, I'd be dead and there would be no one around to help my sister.

If I didn't release him, I would most likely end up dead anyway.

But what if I released him and he didn't kill me? Then I'd have backup, and someone who knew his way around this business. The thought of having this intense, blue-eyed man on my side also tugged at something in my soul. I'd never had a confidant before, someone I could bounce ideas off, someone who would have my back. This smart-mouthed, handsome, dangerous man attracted me, even though I knew he shouldn't, and now he was offering his help.

Was I really going to turn my back on his offer and leave him here, most likely, to die?

Perhaps it was what he deserved, but by doing so was I also robbing my sister of her only chance of getting out of this alive? I couldn't stand the thought of what might be happening to her at the hands of those men. Yes, she was seventeen, and acted tougher and more independent than she actually was, but she was still mentally not much more than a child.

"You can keep hold of the gun."

X's voice broke me from my thoughts.

"What?"

"If you're worried about me trying something, you can keep hold of the gun to protect yourself."

I looked over to the two dead bodies. Both men had had weapons which were now on the shelving unit upstairs. The people we were going after would be as fully armed as those two had been, if not more so. If I was going to trust X enough to help me, I'd need to trust him with a gun as well. He needed to be armed if we were going to stand any chance of getting Nickie back.

"What about my father?" I asked. "If you were frightened of him enough to take on the job to kill me, why aren't you afraid of what he's going to do when he finds out you helped me instead?"

He'd straightened at my accusation of him being frightened. "First of all, there's a difference between being protective of your own life and being frightened. Secondly, I think the ship has sailed on being concerned about what your father will do. I've already failed on that front, by you still being alive and by Nickie being taken. Any retribution coming to me will arrive whether I help you now or not. In fact, saving your sister might be the only thing that will stop seven bells of s.h.i.t falling on my head when he learns about this mess."

I studied his face. He held my gaze, unflinching.

"Why don't you just run as soon as I cut you loose?" I threw out, wanting to make sure I had every base covered. "I'm sure you know how to go into hiding-and you'd probably do a better job of it than the d.a.m.n U.S. Marshals did for us."

"Because if I did that, I would never get to see your face again."

His words caused my heart to flip, and my breath caught. I searched his expression for any kind of insincerity, but he just continued to watch me, as though wanting to judge my reaction to his words as much as I was trying to figure out his. No, I couldn't let this man get to me. He'd say whatever he could to get free from that chair, and I couldn't allow myself to be drawn into fantasy.

Forcing myself from the moment, I lifted my eyebrows. "You're f.u.c.king with me, right?"

He grinned and the tension broke. "Can't I just say I want to help you now, and leave it at that?"

I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, but I reached for the knife still in my jeans pocket from when he'd tried to escape, and then, hoping I wouldn't live to regret it, bent to cut his ankles free.

Chapter Sixteen.

X.

I looked down at the top of Vee's dark, shiny hair as she used the knife I'd dropped to saw away at the thick black tape wrapped around my right ankle. Her hair shimmered with her movements, and the crouch she was in offered me a direct view right down the front of her t-shirt. The gentle curve of the tops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s appeared soft and flawless, a beautiful shade of caramel to go with her black hair and dark brown eyes. My palms itched to slide my hands across her skin, to lace my fingers in that dark hair. I couldn't pretend that every single cell of my body didn't crave her in some way. She was completely unlike any woman I'd ever come across, and I wanted her. I wanted to taste her mouth, and run my tongue over every inch of her skin, and experience what it felt like when I pushed inside her.

Was the possibility of getting laid really making me put my life in danger? The moment she cut the other leg free, I should knee her in the face and run. That I actually gave a f.u.c.k about what happened to her and her sister was seriously starting to p.i.s.s me off. No, actually, I didn't give a f.u.c.k what happened to her sister, but I cared about how she felt about her sister, and how it would affect her. If something happened to Nickie, I had a feeling the fierce light I saw in Vee's eyes would extinguish.

I wasn't used to caring. I especially wasn't used to caring about someone I was supposed to have shot in the head twenty-four hours ago.

I thought back to the fat, middle-aged guy who had come out of the bar and interrupted me. If that hadn't happened, would Vee be dead right now? Would I have pulled the trigger? If I had, I'd have never known what a stunning, courageous, crazy woman she was.

The idea struck dread into my heart.

At my ankle, the tape popped open and Vee yanked the remaining material from around my leg. She shifted her weight over and started sawing the binds at my left leg. I didn't take my eyes off her, and she glanced up and caught my gaze, her cheeks flushing, and then looked away again and finished cutting.

My legs were finally freed.

Getting to her feet, she started work on the tape holding my wrists together.

"You'd better not make me regret this," she said, a warning tone to her voice.

"I'll try not to."

"'Cause I'm still capable of cutting off your d.i.c.k if you try to screw me over."

I pressed my lips together. "I'm fully aware of that, Vee."

My hands popped free and I breathed a sigh of relief, clenching and unclenching my fists, and flexing my fingers. Vee moved away from me, though she had picked the gun back up and now had it pointed loosely in my direction.

My limbs were stiff from being in the same position for hours, not to mention from that shove down the cellar stairs, plus toppling the chair onto my back, and, of course, the two knife wounds currently strapped together with tape. I was lucky the stab wounds hadn't been in my torso, or I doubted I would be in any condition to be offering help right now. I stretched and flexed my knotted muscles, noting how Vee flinched when I lifted my arms, understandably cautious that I might try to strike out at her instead. Spikes of pain pierced me as I moved my arm and put weight on my injured leg, and I hissed air in over my teeth and tested my weight out on the lower limb.

"Do you have any painkillers?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I'll get you some when we go upstairs." She jerked her chin toward the men I had killed. "What do we do about them?"

"Nothing."

"What if the deputy comes back around and finds Nickie and me gone? He might come into the house and find the bodies."

"So what if he does? Do you think you're going to be coming back here again, ever?"

Her lips pressed together, her nostrils flaring in determination. "No. We won't be coming back."

I took a step, but my injured leg crumpled under me, sending me pitching forward. Vee stepped in and grabbed me, wedging her shoulder under my armpit, her arm around my waist. It was a good thing she was tall, and I wasn't overly ma.s.sive, or I would have crushed her.

"I thought I was the one supposed to be helping you," I joked.

"Yeah, you'd better start making yourself useful or I'll leave you here to rot."

She might have threatened it, but she continued to support me, and we climbed the stairs together. I was thankful to be leaving the rank smelling confines of the cellar. On several occasions I had imagined that place would have become my tomb.

"Did Nicole take your car?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "No. It's still parked out front."

"Good. We'll leave it there, so people won't know you're gone right away. My car is parked a couple of blocks from here."

"You think you're going to be able to walk a couple of blocks?"

I gritted my teeth. "I'm going to have to."

If I turned my head toward her, I could place my nose and mouth against the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, which, from the current fragrance, I took to be coconut. The scent and proximity of her did strange things to my insides, and for a moment I forgot about the pain in my leg.

She took me into the kitchen and helped me sit on a stool. I noticed a couple of used mugs sitting beside the sink-the remains of the visit from the deputy. Vee found a packet of painkillers, which she threw to me, and then poured me a gla.s.s of water. I knocked back three of them, looking forward to the relief they would eventually bring me. I'd been in pain for hours, and I needed a break.

"Hey, can I use your bathroom?" I asked.

She nodded. "It's the third door on the right, down the hall."

She moved to help me up, but I waved her away. I didn't need help taking a p.i.s.s. I made my way down to the bathroom, using the wall to steady myself. I pa.s.sed over the spot where she'd stabbed me, and where I'd shot the two other men. She had made a good effort to clean up the blood, though I could still see a dark patch in the threadbare pile.

I used the bathroom, checking out my injuries quickly to make sure I wasn't about to die anytime soon, and washed off some of the blood. Knowing she'd be getting anxious, I made my way back to where she paced up and down the hallway, waiting for me.

"Is there anything here of importance that you want to grab?" I asked her, knowing we couldn't hang out here for long.

"Yeah. I have our original birth certificates, and some photographs of my mom. I'm not supposed to have them, but I grabbed them when the U.S. Marshals showed up the day they took us into the Witness Protection Program. I guess I couldn't bring myself to let go of who I was completely. Oh, and there's another thing I want, too."

"Okay, be quick."

She vanished around the corner and down the hallway toward the bedroom. I went back into the kitchen to perch on the stool while I waited.

I could go now, if I wanted. I could take off out the front door, steal her car, and make my getaway, but I didn't want to leave her alone.

I couldn't leave her alone.

She appeared in the doorway, clutching a small metal tin with a locked code on it like you'd find in a briefcase. In her other hand was a rucksack.

"What's in the bag?" I asked, nodding toward it.

"Change of clothes for me, and for Nickie, for when I get her back. And a teddy that she's had since she was born. I couldn't leave Mister Snuggles behind. Our mom gave it to her, and she always sleeps with it." Her cheeks pinked at the revelation, as though she'd told me she was the one who still slept with a childhood toy. I was tempted to tease her about it, but we were running out of time and I didn't want the wrong people to find us sitting here, unprepared.

"Oh," she said, as though she'd forgotten something, and then she reached into the bag and pulled out the two handguns she'd taken off the dead men. "And I've got these two, of course."

That dangerous glint was back in her eye, and I couldn't help but smile at her. I didn't know why I had expected any less. "Then we're good to go."

We left the house the same way I had entered-through the back door.

"This way," I told her, guiding her through the back yard. I favored my uninjured leg, so I walked with a lurch, but there was nothing I could do about it. I walked toward the clump of bushes where I'd hidden the previous night, and Vee followed, staying close to my shoulder. She would have been able to move a lot faster without me, but I was the only one who knew where my car was parked.

I pushed through the bushes and out onto the street on the other side, reaching back to take Vee's hand and help her through the final part. She emerged with twigs in her hair, clutching her bag to her shoulder.

"You want me to take that?" I offered.

She lifted her eyebrows and tugged her hand from mine. "I've got it, thanks."

I guessed I couldn't be too surprised that she didn't want me to carry the bag with all the guns.

"Which way?" she asked, glancing around. She looked suspicious, and someone who looked suspicious always caught the eye of others.

"You need to relax," I told her. "Chill. We need to look like we belong here or we're going to stick out, especially considering the state of my clothes and that I have tape wrapped around my arm and leg." It was true. I looked a mess. It was a good thing I always wore black-both the blood and the tape were camouflaged against the dark material.

It was late afternoon, but there were still people around-the townsfolk heading home after a long day at work or school.

"Yes, you're right," she said, plastering a smile across her face and loosely linking her arm through mine. I knew the gesture must have been hard for her to do, but I liked that she'd used her initiative to make us appear like a regular couple just walking down the street instead of a couple of fugitives. I also appreciated having her body pressed so close to mine, the warmth of her skin seeping through my shirt. I tried hard to imagine this life we were currently faking-being a normal person in a normal relationship, taking a stroll down the street, but I couldn't picture it. I'd always been an outcast. The only way I knew how to fit in was by pretending, just like I was doing now.

"How much farther?" she asked.

"Another block from here."

"Okay, good."

The street wasn't too busy, a few vehicles heading in both direction, a couple of pa.s.sersby on the sidewalk. But Vee suddenly huddled closer into me, turning her face and pressing it against my shoulder.

"Ah, s.h.i.t," she said, her mouth brushing the material of my shirt.

"What?" I asked But then I saw what she had-the police car parked on our side of the street.