by Ruby Vincent
I knew what was wrong, so the person I became when I stepped out the door did what was right. She showed up for work on time. Did not talk back to her boss. Waited at the crosswalk for the signal to go. Paid her bills. Held the door open for the elderly and parents with strollers.
Adeline Redgrave did good in public, and no one questioned what she did in private. They didn’t wonder if behind their backs she was an entirely different person—who knew what was wrong, and did it anyway.
Without remorse.
Without guilt.
And often with a laugh on the tip of her lips.
I was who I was made to be by a man who taught me, defended me, killed for me, and gave up his entire world... for me. For him to lie here now—weak and helpless. Hanging on to life by a dripping bag. This was an injustice that would be righted by the girl he named “avenging angel.”
That side of me would no longer be private.
From this day, everyone would know her wrath.
“I’LL BE BACK TONIGHT, Daddy.”
I kissed his papery cheek.
“Hmm.” Dad squeezed my hand, mumbling something. He was still groggy from the effects.
“I know, Dad,” I said, mindful of Mercer in the room. “I’ll take care of everything. You focus on getting better.”
He loosened his hold. Dad’s eyes fluttered shut, and he eased into sleep. He could relax. Dad knew that I knew. Everything would be fine.
“Goes without saying that you have time off to look after him,” Mercer said.
His hand was warm on the small of my back. Uppercase in its comforting. Lowercase in possession. That hand let those looking know that he was there for me, because I was his.
“Seriously, Adeline. The cooking, cleaning, La Roche, and the rest. We’ve got it. This is where you need to be.”
“Thank you. But my dad will be okay. He’s not allowed to leave me. He knows that.”
Chuckling, Mercer brushed a barely there kiss over my temple. “That’s what I like about you, gorgeous.”
A chime sounded in my pocket.
“Give me a minute?” I asked.
“I’ll pull up the car.”
Only when the elevator closed on him, did I take it out.
Waterford Retirement Home
“Hello, Duncan.” I didn’t need to ask. I knew who it was.
“Hello, Miss Redgrave. How is your father? We’re all worried sick about him.”
“I’m sure.” My voice was calm. Even.
“Nurse Leila is beside herself thinking she gave him the wrong pills.”
“Tell her not to beat herself up,” I said. “It’s not her fault.”
“To be fair, it’s no one’s fault but yours. If you’d done what I asked, your father would be making eyes at Mrs. Watkins right now.” The sweet, syrupy tone dug into my skin and ignited me to blow.
I pushed the feeling down.
“Yes,” I agreed. “This is my fault.”
“I’m glad you understand now.” There was a noise. Voices on the other end. Then a thump. “You think if you act like a psycho, I’ll turn tail and run. It’s not going to happen, Redgrave. You don’t scare me. You’re a silly little girl, and your father another useless old man going senile. You’re both nothing, and that is why you have nothing.”
I blinked slow—still in the bustle around me.
“Nothing but each other,” Duncan said. “I don’t know what you are, Adeline Redgrave, but I know you care about losing him. Just as much as he cares about losing you. Daddy swallowed the pills without a fight when I played him that recording.”
My eyes flared. “You did what?”
“Like you said, this phone is leverage. If not against you, then against someone else. Fathers really will do anything for their daughters, won’t they?”
“But not yours, I suspect.” The anger broke through. Sizzling and charging the air like desert heat. “What did he do? Drink himself to death all day, and beat you all night? And where was your mother? If you knew the woman at all.
“I’m truly sorry for the circumstances that led to you becoming this person, Tara Duncan. Trust me, I know something about that. It’s a bitch that makes bitches out of all of us.” I stepped to the side, leaning on the wall. “In recognition and respect to a fellow psycho, I’ll stop fighting you.
“Tell me what you want,” I spat.
“Simple. The price is two hundred grand now. Leave it in the same place,” she said. “If it’s all there, I’ll drop the phone in the trash and you can do what you want with it.”
“No.”
“No?” she hissed. “You just said—”
“I need some guarantees. How do I know the only copy of the recording is on that phone?”
“I swear it is.”
“You swear?” I snorted. “And I swear Santa Claus does exist.”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it, won’t you?”
“Your phone, computer, and your damn Apple watch. Hand it all over. You’ll certainly have enough money to buy more after we’re through.”
“That’s true.” She laughed. “Fine. I’ll give you my laptop too. One week. A backpack for your backpack. Oh, and this time, I want the blue.”
Click.
“WHAT ARE YOU GOING to do?”
“I know exactly what I’m going to do.”
“We have to get rid of her, Addy,” said Gianna. “She brought your dad into this. We end this, or he’ll try to.”
“I said I know what to do,” I replied. “How much money do we have left over that isn’t marked for something else?”
She hesitated. “Not two hundred grand,” she admitted. “Not even close. But, I haven’t signed the leases yet. Captain’s been paid, but the girl I have in La Roche’s office hasn’t. All of that will have to wait. This is more important.”
“No, G. We can’t turn back now. We did too much to get that money for it to end up in the hands of another vile predator,” I said. “I have an idea. Just pack up the leftover money, put it in a case, and I’ll be by to get it tonight.”
“Alright. Love you, babe.”
“Love you.”
I hung up, and returned to examine the collection.
Our new weapons dungeon was an upgrade on the old one. Twice as big, and bearing a small wooden door that led to the tunnel beneath the city streets.
I chose a small pistol that fit in my palm like a baby bird. I don’t know that the guys used half the stuff down here. I did know they rarely checked the inventory.
I have a fucking idea all right. I stuffed the gun in my pocket and rescued the bullets from the ammo trunk next to the rack. Tara Duncan will get exactly what’s coming to her.
I went upstairs to my room. Someone was waiting for me.
“Killian.”
He stood in the middle of the room. Standing there. He didn’t move at my greeting.
“Everything okay?”
Cash looked at me. An odd expression crossed his face. I gave him a crazy one in return.
“You gearing up to fight me or something?”
Killian scoffed. “Ridiculous.”
That sounded more like him.
“No, Redgrave. I’m not here to fight you.” He raised that prominent jaw. “I noticed the other day you making a fucking mess with the muffin batter. Brutal was all over you cleaning it up. From now on, use this.”
Killian stepped to the side.
A purple box sat on my bed. I picked it up, squinting at the label.
“Pancake and cupcake batter dispenser,” I read. “Durable and easy to use, it’s the number one gift for your favorite baker.” I turned my grin on him. “Killian Alfred Hunt.”
“Fuck you.”
“Did you get me a present?”
“No,” he said too quickly. “It’s a practical item that you can put to some use. If you don’t want it—”
I shot away. “Don’t you dare take my gift. I love it. It’s exactly what I was thinking I n
eeded when I was making those muffins, and Brutal was making me regret it. Why didn’t I know this existed?” I hugged it to my chest. “Thank you, baby. This is so sweet.”
His jaw ticced a rhythm I could dance to. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Eyes fixed on my print of Cinco City, he held out his hand. I curled mine in his.
If I wasn’t already in love with him, I would’ve been a puddle of goo to be poured in the dispenser.
“I’ve got a present for you too.”
“Yeah?”
I pushed him down on my bed. “Yes.”
Getting on my knees, one hand unzipped him, and the other slid the gun and bullets under my bed.
Killian sprung free in all his glory. He was half hard and pointed at the ceiling to rocket to the moon. The image made me smile.
“Something funny?”
“I was just thinking how many orgasms I was going to wring out of you to get you to admit you love me.” I licked the tip. “Pretty sure one will do it.”
“I’m not a betting man, Redgrave. But I’m willing to let you keep at it till you get your result.”
I was laughing as I swallowed him, sending vibrations down his shaft that drew a hiss from his lips. That was one of my favorite sounds in the world. Killian losing control.
I palmed him, stroking till I got another hiss, then swallowed to the back of my throat. Killian instantly grasped my head, giving me more.
A man like him did not cede control easily. A fact which suddenly reminded me there were handcuffs in the dungeon, and Killian had a metal headboard.
I bet I get my I love you when you’re bucking under my mercy.
Picking up the pace, I bobbed in time with his thrusts, heat pooling in my middle on the heady high of cum, musk, cologne, and Killian.
His thighs tightened on me, and I knew what was coming. I relaxed. Killian spilled all he had to offer inside me.
I climbed on top of him, stealing a kiss. “Did that do it?”
“You should try going for a few more.”
I checked my desk clock. I wasn’t going anywhere until after dinner. The guys would be shut away in Killian’s office, going over every detail. I wouldn’t be missed.
Which means I’ve got plenty of time for a few more.
Killian broke my zipper ripping it down.
CASH
“Is this all your guys could get?” Mercer gestured at both of my whiteboards. “There is a Barron security system, but he doesn’t know what type. There are guards on the premises, but he doesn’t know how many patrol a shift. A break-in could send an instant alert to the police, but it might not. We’re going in blind, Cash.”
“We’re not,” I said. I pointed to the picture of our targets. “There’s one hundred and twenty-eight million dollars’ worth of antiques in that home. Minimum. Sebastian Vega is a reasonably intelligent man and he has a young daughter. I don’t need to do the calculations on the effort he’d put into security. If he’s got a Barron, it’ll be the best one on the market.”
“Seguro Twenty-Five,” Mercer echoed. “A worthy opponent.”
“You can get in.” It wasn’t a question. We didn’t have time for those anymore.
He nodded. “It’ll take me at least an hour. At least.” Mercer heaved a sigh. “Normally, I have all night to make a lock purr while that night’s playmate sleeps soundly. This job is starting to get stressful.”
I moved on. “Security. I anticipate two on each entrance, and two sweeping the home when Vega is inside. He’ll take those two with him when he leaves.”
“Four guards are manageable,” Sinjin said. “We’ll opt for overkill just the same.”
I agreed. “The alarm to the police is also a given. Anyone with his net worth will have the panic button tied around his neck like he’ll break a hip falling down the stairs. Disabling it without him knowing will take doing,” I said. “Diego has three weeks. That will be enough time.”
Mercer waved his hands. “All this sounds good, but has anyone considered the reasonably intelligent man with a young daughter, wised up and stored the eight-figure valuables in a safe-deposit box? La Roche hasn’t been on the property since he was caught in bed with the wife. He hasn’t seen the necklace or tiara after he lost them at auction. How do we know they’re there?”
“They’re there,” Sinjin stated. He was draped on the couch, sipping a glass of scotch in the same position I was with Adeline not long ago.
Adeline.
An impish smile and auburn waves crashed over me.
I tossed my head. I did that a lot lately. Adeline had worked her way into my mind like an illness.
There wasn’t a better way to describe it.
All-consuming. Eroding will and self-control. Impossible to cure.
Lethal.
If that wasn’t a disease, what was?
“Vega needs them close,” Sinjin continued, dragging me back. “La Roche fucked his wife and sister, and he was too weak to do anything. Too weak to satisfy. Too weak to stop it. Too weak to keep her.
“What he should’ve done was thrash the smug, arrogant shit within an inch of his life, but he was too weak to do that too. For the last ten years, the only measure of revenge he could get was through his money—taking away La Roche’s toys,” he said. “He won’t be separated from those antiques. By now, they’re more his manhood than his dick.”
“Which of his dicks are we after?”
“We only need one for La Roche,” I said.
“So, we take the others for fun,” Sinjin threw in. “Bunny in a crown is a sex dream of mine.”
The image jumped in my head. Diamonds twisting through her hair. Sweat dripping between her breasts as she flung her jeweled head back—riding me to the tune of her filthy desires pouring from her lips.
I shook my head again.
Damn.
ADELINE
Gianna handed me a lime-green and yellow polka-dot carry-on.
“I didn’t have time to buy something else,” she said to my look. “The money’s all there. Want me to come with you?”
“It’ll be hard enough to get in on my own.” We kissed cheeks over her threshold. Sticking my head in afforded me a look at the packing boxes scattered throughout the living room. “I’ll text you when I get there, and when I leave. If that last text doesn’t come through by midnight. Please, come in shooting.”
“That was the plan.”
We said goodbye, and I hopped in Raul’s car. I could’ve asked the guys to take the tracker out of mine. I decided against that after Jocelyn. I handled my business without a car for years. It wasn’t an inconvenience to leave it behind, and when I did drive it, it was nice to know this was one thing no one could take from me.
Strange thoughts like that plagued me throughout the drive. What the guys had done for me. What I’d done for them. They’d become so embedded in my life, it was difficult to recall a time I wasn’t bantering with Sinjin. Flirting with Mercer. Teasing Brutal, or seducing Cash.
I let them track me for heaven’s sake. The last boyfriend who tried sneaking a tracking app on my phone didn’t survive to distrust the next girl.
No, I didn’t kill him. Just a figure of speech.
My Waterford borough dropped away for streets paved with gold. Or that was the impression Leighbridge gave. Suited men and ball-gowned women spilled out of a hotel into waiting limos. The lampposts in Leighbridge were modeled in Victorian style. It sent me back to grand parties, lace parasols, and an age before crime families ruled the day.
I turned the final corner and his home came into sight. It looked rather lonely without the line of cars outside.
I parked, checked the gun was safely tucked in my purse, grabbed the bag of money, and marched up to the door. The guard who let in me and Killian the other night opened the door.
“Evening. Tell Mr. La Roche Adeline Redgrave is here to see him.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No, but
I think he’d like to talk to me. Tell him I’m here.”
“Jackson? Who is it?”
I glanced around his bulk.
“Hello, Mr. La Roche. Can I come in? This won’t take a minute.”
There was a pause where the eye I could see observed me. “You have it so soon? This is quite mortifying. Took less than a week to do what I couldn’t in years.”
“That’s not why I’m here. This isn’t about what we discussed the other night at all. I’d love to tell you about it when I’m not out on the front porch.”
He chuckled. “Forgive me. I forgot my manners in the excitement. Come in, Miss Redgrave. Jackson, step aside.”
Jackson snapped to the left, letting me pass. La Roche eyed my bag.
“What have you brought me?”
“This isn’t for you,” I replied. “I came for a number. I have the name. Grady Shelton.”
“I’m sorry, but everyone who enters my home must have something for me.” A smile stretched his lips. “You saw as much the other night.”
I frowned. “The painting? Killian said that was his invitation into the party.”
“That was his invitation onto the premises.” La Roche came closer. He had on a silk, gray suit that could’ve been his pajamas for all I knew—he seemed the type to wear a suit to bed. “My home is sacred. As Killian has no doubt told you, I’ve opened it and myself to my colleagues worldwide, but for my own paranoia, I insist everyone who gets close to me provides means.”
“Means to what?”
The smile widened. “Bury them.”
“Excuse me?”
Sighing, La Roche circled me. “That masterful forgery of The Lacemaker your boyfriend handed me, could one day be discovered in a black-market auction, with his fingerprints all over it. He knows I have that option. It’s what nudges him to the right decision if he ever considered revealing the truth about me to the public. I was curious about you, so you received one free pass. There isn’t a second.”
I stiffened. “I don’t have a copy of a priceless masterpiece. I just came for a number. One of the men seated at my table the other night. I need to speak with him, and Killian does not need to know I was here.”