Valentine Shepherd: Retribution Part 15

Except he did, right in front of Val and Max. In fact, Val was the one who'd pushed him. The familiar taste of bile rose in her throat. "It was Dean's choice to take his own life," Val said, repeating what her logical brain knew was the truth, though it didn't help her sleep at night. "It's not Max's fault."

"If it's not his fault, then why does he keep trying to pay me off? Tell him to leave me the h.e.l.l alone."

Val sighed. Max would be furious with her for this. But he was already furious with her, and sitting on the truth was making things worse. "Max is your brother, Jo."

Jo blinked as if Val had spoken a foreign language. "Excuse me?"

"He's your brother; half brother, specifically. Dean had an affair with Max's mother. Max was the result. He's probably trying to give you money as an excuse to have some contact with you."

Jo's mouth fell open. "That's a lie," she said, her words choked.

"Dean told us himself, right before he...pa.s.sed away. I don't think he'd lie about something like that. You're Max's only immediate family member; vice versa for you now, I guess."

Jo pressed her lips together as if prepping for a yelling fit. Instead tears filled her eyes and her shoulders slumped. She let out a trembling breath, then turned away from Val, got in her car, and drove away.

Poor Jo. Poor Max. Val rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. A headache began to take root, born from too much pressure between her ears, from the weight of the entire G.o.dd.a.m.n, terrible world. She itched to call Sten, the perfect drug for relief with a side of self-loathing. No, she wouldn't do it again. He'd already done too much for her. Just thinking about what he might want in return made her shudder. She went inside, made a beeline for the fridge, cracked open a beer, and rubbed the condensation on her face. Three more beers and the last terrible twenty-four hours would only be a nattering in the back of her mind. At least Stacey wasn't around to give her s.h.i.t about it. Where the h.e.l.l was her roommate? Val hadn't seen her in...days, it seemed. She didn't remember. f.u.c.k it. Val couldn't take Stacey's pity anyway. It hurt too much.

She took a long, desperately needed drink of her beer. Of course that's when Sten called.

"Hey, beautiful," he said. "Didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"I'd rather you call back when I'm drunk."

"I a.s.sumed you were always drunk."

"What do you want, Sten? Is this a booty call?"

"Please. Meet me at the corner of Second and Pine Street in an hour." He hung up.

"s.h.i.t," Val muttered, then chugged the rest of her beer. Time to pay her pound of flesh.

Chapter Nineteen.

The corner of Second and Pine Street bustled with the tail end of rush hour traffic. Val parked on Second, then took a moment to bounce her head off the steering wheel a few times. If she knocked herself out, she'd have an excuse for not showing up...Nope, wasn't working. s.h.i.t. She took a deep breath and heaved herself out of the car. Squinting at the sun blaring in her eyes and wishing she could curl up in a ball and sleep for a week, she walked to the corner and scanned the area. No Sten. Maybe he wouldn't show. h.e.l.l, of course he'd show. She had to wait. Val was on his schedule now.

In the worst-case scenario, he'd order her to kill someone. She wouldn't commit murder, even if it meant reneging on their deal and suffering his wrath. She wouldn't seriously harm an innocent person, either. In fact, there were a lot of things she wouldn't do under any circ.u.mstance. He might have to kill her. She didn't doubt he was capable.

Val felt her cell phone vibrate; a text from Sten. Down the alley. She walked to the nearest alleyway on Pine, a dirty stretch of asphalt barely two car lengths wide and cast in shadow by the setting sun. In the center, Sten leaned against his unmarked police cruiser, casual in jeans and a plain dark blue T-shirt. Seeing him like that reminded Val why she'd been attracted to him in the first place, back in her early Army days. He struck an effortless, c.o.c.ky pose, lazy expression hinting at a hidden intelligence. He made people come to him. Val set her jaw as she approached. She wanted to be free of him-and not. He made her body feel good, and he could hone her visions like no one else, despite the oily feeling he left on her soul afterward. And, G.o.d help her, he was the only person she could relate to anymore, now that her primary emotions were anger and frustration.

Sten opened the back door of his cruiser and motioned for her to get inside. She hesitated for a moment, wary of where he would take her, but decided her options were limited and got in the backseat. At least there was no one else already in there.

"Scoot over," he said.

She did so. He slipped in beside her and shut the door. Then he grabbed her legs and yanked them toward him. She yelped when her back bounced off the leather upholstery. He popped off her shoes, tossed them to the side, then pulled down her pants.

"I thought this wasn't a booty call," she said, letting him tear off her jeans and panties.

"It's not." He glanced at his watch, then ran his hands up her naked thighs. "But we've got a little time to kill, and you look like you're going to explode. You need your pressure valve released, baby." He spread her legs and dipped his head down.

"Don't call me that-" Her breath caught when she felt his tongue slide inside her. The car became a sauna as her body exploded with heat. She gasped for breath while Sten's mouth caressed her, played with her, sucked on her. G.o.d, he was good at this-too good, like a terrible drug she couldn't quit. She loved it as it killed her. He went on for a blur of time, soft and relentless. Her thighs trembled, body edging toward climax. Another terrible glimpse of the future was coming, either of someone dying, or the world ending, or a life with Max she couldn't have, or worse. Not again.

She mustered all her willpower. "Stop," she said, her voice breathless. "Stop."

Sten lifted his head so his eyes met hers. "Why?"

"I can't." Her chest heaved with the effort to calm herself down. "I don't want to know the future. I can't take it anymore."

"Are you sure?" He slipped two fingers inside her while his thumb rubbed her c.l.i.toris in slow circles. A spike of pleasure shot through her. "I can make it a pleasant experience."

Val squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "No. Please."

Sten sighed and removed his hand from between her legs. "Have it your way."

He moved up beside her and wedged his chest between her p.r.o.ne body and the seat back. His head propped on one arm, he used his free hand to skim his fingers along her bare thigh. Val lay limp beside him, the pressure of her day replaced by the raw need for s.e.xual release that she took deep breaths to suppress. She tipped her head to the side until Sten's moist shirt touched her nose. If anyone had seen them at that moment, she and Sten might've been mistaken for lovers.

He'd stopped when she asked him to. She hadn't expected that, not after being used and violated by so many other people. The sliver of power he'd given her meant a lot more than he probably realized. A tiny kernel of real affection for him popped inside her.

"You taste good," Sten said. "I don't say that to every woman, just so you know."

"You tried to kill me once." She said it as much to remind herself as to rebuff Sten. No matter the positive feelings she was beginning to have for him, she couldn't forget he was a killer.

"That was for show. I wouldn't have killed you. I can't anyway."

"Why not?"

"Politics."

Another vague clue. "But you would've killed Max."

"Nah...well, maybe. That one was kind of up in the air."

She scoffed. "If you're going to kill him, you might as well kill me."

Sten leaned over her. She opened her eyes and watched his lips come within an inch of hers, so close she could smell coffee and mint on his breath. Maybe she could settle for Sten. He wasn't so bad. Yeah, he'd done some terrible things, but so had she. They weren't that different. h.e.l.l, she needed somebody, anybody. His lips parted.

"Don't be so dramatic," he said. He slapped her thigh and she jumped. "Enough dillydallying. Get dressed and meet me at the corner. Don't take more than two minutes." He sat up and got out.

Val pushed herself into a sitting position and took a moment to reorient back to reality. Of course she'd never date Sten again. What the h.e.l.l had she been thinking? He might not be willing or able to kill her, but if Max was fair game, then Sten was her enemy, no matter their shared interests. If he so much as looked at Max crossly, she'd beat him until his own squad mates couldn't identify his body.

Val threw her clothes back on and walked to where Sten stood on the corner. He didn't bother turning to face her, his concentration consumed by whatever lay ahead.

She folded her arms. "Now what?"

"Follow me."

They walked down Second Street, Sten's stride quick but not urgent, though she sensed an effort on his part to look casual so they wouldn't draw attention.

"About the mechanic, Cal Williams," Val said behind Sten. "Did you search his house?"

Sten glanced at her over his shoulder. "Yes."

"Did you confiscate his computer?"

"Indeed."

"Can I have the hard drive?"

"Negative."

"Can I at least look at it?"

"Nope."

f.u.c.king Sten. "You know it'll take your super-competent police friends months before they get around to examining that hard drive. There could be evidence on his computer that he's the one who uploaded the videos of Margaret and me onto Rayvit. Just give me the G.o.dd.a.m.n drive so I can take care of it myself."

He snickered. "And what's your plan if you find your rapists?"

She cringed at the term. Her rapists. At least he believed her. "Something like Stevenson, maybe with more castration."

"That's hard to pull off on a dead person."

She stopped. "What?"

Sten walked a few more steps, then doubled back when he noticed she wasn't following him anymore. "Jeffrey Cartwright died in a tragic boating accident two days ago. Eliot Salier will soon perish in a freak house fire...or be mauled by a bear, I haven't decided yet."

Val gawked at him for a moment. He'd already searched Cal's computer and identified her attackers-and taken care of it, like he said he would. She should know better by now than to underestimate Sten. That dangerous kernel of affection for him grew a little larger. "Don't kill Salier. I have a better idea."

"I thought it didn't get any better than castration." He glanced at his watch again. "Hold up your end of the bargain, and you can tell me all about it." He resumed his march toward their destination.

After they walked another block, Sten took a right onto Pike, then a quick left onto First. He stopped a few steps from the corner of First and Union, checked his watch, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He turned toward her like they were a couple chatting about where to get dinner.

"That's the Four Seasons Hotel." He c.o.c.ked his head an inch toward the building across the street. "See that black car parked out front?"

Val looked past him at a shiny service sedan waiting at the curb. The car's driver stood a foot away, ready to swoop forward and open the door for some wealthy b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "Yeah."

"In three minutes, a man in a blue Armani suit and orange silk tie will come out of the hotel and get into that car." His gaze held hers. "Don't let him get in the car."

Val raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"Why do you need me for this?"

"You have a special touch."

"You mean you want me to change something about the future, and this guy not getting into that car will do it."

Sten's face hardened with a seriousness she'd never seen in him before. "We shall see."

Val fought back a sick feeling. "Do I need to keep him out of this car indefinitely?"

"Yes."

"What if he gets into another car?"

"Doesn't matter. You now have two minutes."

"And what if I can't keep him out of the car?"

"Then you've failed to hold up your end of our bargain."

"Which means what? You'll wish you could kill me really badly?"

He c.o.c.ked his head and smiled. "I don't have to kill you to punish you."

A crystal-clear statement. Val walked past him to get a better look at the car and the driver. There were a lot of ways she could keep this mystery man from getting into his car. She could take the driver hostage. She could set the car on fire. She could shoot out the tires. She could shoot the mystery man. Unfortunately, those obvious options came with jail time. Subterfuge was her best bet.

"One minute," Sten said.

Val crossed the street and walked toward the car, careful to look casual despite feeling the opposite, as Sten had done. She stopped ten feet from the car and pretended to check her phone, twirling her hair like a ditz for effect. From the corner of her eye, she saw a heavy man in a blue suit exit the building. Val held up her phone and pretended to pose for a selfie, mugging for the camera. Her palm-sized screen confirmed he wore an orange tie-her mystery man. A posse of half a dozen business types barking into cell phones surrounded him, including one severe-looking guy in a black sport coat-a bodyguard. Mystery man seemed quite the player.

When they reached the sedan, Val sprang her trap. The bodyguard covered the mystery man's rear. His eyes rolled off her as he scanned for threats. The driver opened the car door while the business posse talked over each other about deadlines and meetings. Still pretending as if she were enraptured by her phone, Val walked briskly toward the bodyguard-so briskly that when she slammed into him, she could believably ricochet off him and into the car, and "accidentally" shove her elbow through the side window.

Val clutched her arm and wailed. "Oh my G.o.d!" Blood dripped onto the pavement. d.a.m.n, that hurt more than she thought it would.

A moment of shock gripped everyone around her. The bodyguard looked confused, suspicious, and concerned at the same time. The business posse gave second-by-second plays to whoever was on the other end of their phones. Hotel staff ran forward. Mystery man stared at her.

"My arm!" Val whined when a concierge rushed to her aid. She glared at the bodyguard. "He ran straight into me!"

The bodyguard still looked confused. Over the concierge's pleas for her to sit down, she heard the driver say into his cell, "We need a new car here now."

Mission accomplished.

"Don't touch!" She slapped the concierge's hand away from her bleeding arm. "It super hurts! Owww-"

The mystery man spoke with a strong English accent. "Valentine Shepherd?"

Val froze.

He met her gaze with wide, fearful eyes. His voice trembled. "Are you Valentine Shepherd?"

s.h.i.t. How did he know her? Maybe he recognized her from the news last year? She didn't remember ever seeing him before.