by Stone, Piper
“I know he’s a murderer.” She sucked in a long breath after saying the words, her entire body trembling.
“That’s exactly right and it’s okay. Here’s the thing, and you need to listen very intently. Someone set him up, attempted to have Mr. Sanchez killed. Now, I can tell you’re a very intelligent woman. You can imagine how angry Mr. Sanchez is.” The last thing I wanted to do was terrify the little boy.
Sandy nodded, darting several glances at the pistol. Sweat beaded along her hairline.
“Mr. Sanchez is the kind of man who doesn’t like betrayal. Unfortunately, he enjoys retaliation, no matter against whom, including innocent bystanders.” I wanted to make certain she gathered a sense of the level of danger she was in.
“I don’t care who he is. I was told nothing about the night except to do my job. Yes, I was paid very well. I did what I was told. I just did what my boss said to do. That’s it.”
I believed her. “And you told no one ahead of time that he was going to be there?”
“Mommy. Mommy!” Davey managed to get out of her grasp, screaming as she yanked him back into her lap.
“Shhh, baby. Just a few more minutes,” she implored. Sandy’s brow furrowed, beads of perspiration forming in a line over her top lip. “I didn’t know until I walked in. I swear to God. I didn’t...” Sucking in several deep breaths, I could tell she was close to hysteria. Davey was pitching a tantrum, twisting his body. I wanted to tell her to keep the kid quiet, but I realized how terrified they both were.
Of me.
Of the man sent to kill them.
Of the only man who could be their salvation.
“Keep quiet and relax, Sandy. I believe what you’re telling me. What I’m about to say to you will be difficult for you to hear and even more so for you to understand, but you must listen to me. We have no time to waste.” I leaned further forward, making certain she could hear every word of my directions because they were only going to be said once.
“Okay.”
“There is a hit on your life.”
Crumpling against the back of the couch, tears flowed freely. “Because of what I saw?”
“Yes, and to prevent any leaks of information to outside parties. I’m supposed to be the man performing the deed. That’s what I do for Mr. Sanchez. I alleviate problems.”
A whimper escaped her mouth as she yanked Davey into the protection of her arms. “Please don’t hurt my little boy. Please let him live. I can’t die thinking that he’s going to be killed.”
I felt as if the devil had ripped through my chest, wrapping his hand around my heart. I held up my hand, trying to quiet her down. I also felt the clock ticking, counting down much like a bomb.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
“I’m not going to kill you, Sandy, but others will if I don’t perform my job. I’m here to get you out of the city, but you have to leave tonight, and you can never look back. If you do, you will be hunted like an animal.”
Her mouth opened, her eyes glazing over. “What? I don’t...”
I pushed the satchel closer. “This is one hundred thousand dollars. It should be enough for you to start a new life. I’m going to get you and your son on a bus. You choose where you want to go without giving me any indication. Period. Other than clothes, you must leave your old life behind. Everything. No phone calls to friends. No emails. You leave your phone here. I’ll destroy your credit cards. When you get to your destination, you change your name, your hair color, and everything about you. Do you understand me?”
Sandy opened her mouth as if to answer, but there were only guttural sounds. The scent of terror enshrouded her entire being as she realized her life would never be the same.
“Don’t fuck with me on this, Sandy. The Sanchez organization is one of the most powerful crime syndicates in the freaking country with ties to Colombia as well as Cuba. The human resources available to Mr. Sanchez in order to track down anyone is limitless. He would stop at nothing to hunt you down like a feral dog, taking his time as he decides what to do with you. Death will be sweet peace. Do you now understand the importance of heeding to every direction I give to you?” Another moment of knowing settled in, no doubt giving her a sense of urgency. In the next few seconds, I witnessed a sweet young mother become a hardened protector.
She kissed the top of her baby’s head, caressing his little back. “Yes. I... I understand.” Sandy sat up straighter, cocking her head. “But why?”
“Why?”
“Why are you doing this? Why not just kill me?”
A fog slipped past my field of vision, images of the last few years rushing by like some disgusting horror movie. I no longer knew the man I’d become, and I certainly didn’t give a shit about the rest of my life. This might be the only decent decision I’d made in the last seven years. “Because I can’t bear to kill the mother of a child, an innocent victim.”
Because I need to capture my broken soul.
Sandy shook her head several times, trying hard not to sob. “Thank you and God bless you.”
“I’m a bad man, Sandy. God will never bless me given my sins, but I’m not a monster. Get packed but only take a couple bags. No one can know you’re leaving town permanently. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
“Can I ask you your name at least? Please?”
I moved to a standing position, slipping the barrel of the gun in my holster. “Blade. That’s all you need to know.”
Sandy followed directions, taking only the essentials. I’d return for a quick clean, at least giving her a fighting chance. That would seal my fate.
I was grateful the kid remained asleep the entire trip to the Greyhound station. Even the woman remained quiet, but every time I checked the rearview mirror, her eyes were unblinking, staring back at mine. I pulled the car directly to the entrance. If anyone saw me here, I was as good as dead, but I refused to force her to walk in the rain.
The woman climbing out of my car was different than the one who’d been hustled in, stronger in many ways. She knew this was a one-time gift from a madman. Grabbing her bags, she stepped onto the curb then stopped, leaning down. “You’re wrong about your assumption, Blade. God has already blessed you with a good heart. Never forget that. I will pray for you always.”
Only my mother had ever prayed for me. I wasn’t the kind of man who thought I needed a holy blessing. It was that moment that I realized I’d been wrong.
Dead wrong.
I missed my family as well as my life. I missed the happy-go-lucky guy ready to take on the world. I missed my best friend in the entire world, a man I’d never see again.
I sat where I was, listening to the sound of the rain until I saw a series of headlights. Time to get the hell out of here. I’d just tossed away my livelihood and perhaps my life to save another. Maybe there was at least one redeeming quality left inside my hardened soul.
* * *
I’d never wanted the condo in the first place. Wasn’t my style. Sleek and modern, polished chrome and steel and a hell of a lot of glass. I almost never spent any time here, except to sleep and that was only when I wasn’t on a job. There were no pictures or plants. While music was a passion, I hadn’t purchased a song. There were also no books or magazines. I often wondered what the cleaning crew thought about the man living in 16-B.
Leaving this was no big deal. Even leaving Miami didn’t faze me. I knew there was a slim chance of surviving the first thirty days, but if I could make it across the country, lose myself in a new life, maybe I’d get by. I’d exaggerated how far reaching Diego’s tentacles really were, but given his recent exclamations of concern, I’d be made an example.
I’d decided to have one last drink before packing up and heading out. I wasn’t into reminiscing, but this had been the closest thing I had to a home in years. The storm had passed, although a mist had formed, giving the ocean a surreal and ominous appearance. I liked the night the best, the quiet hours when everyone else was sleeping, giving me peace. Sleep was di
fficult, if not impossible, dreams filling my mind and driving my synapsis.
As I stood out on the balcony, I thought through the plans, or at least tried to make some sense of what I was doing.
My only advantage was having a few hours before the latest betrayal was discovered. A few hundred miles would help. I pulled out a single duffle, packing only the basics, filling the bottom with ammo and the remainder of cash. I found it ironic the advice I’d given Sandy was exactly what I was required to do.
If I gave a damn about living.
I slapped my favorite blade into a leather sheath, clicking it on my waist, the only weapon I’d have on me during the trip. When I was finished packing, I yanked my old bomber jacket from the closet then took a look at my reflection. The man staring back at me wasn’t someone I recognized, but a slim reminder of the man I’d once been a hell of a long time ago. Twisting my neck, I dragged my fingertip down the length of the scar, huffing, “You’re one ugly fucker.”
I heard my cell phone ringing just before I zipped the bag. This was the third call of the night. Seeing the number on the screen should have given me mixed feelings. Instead, all I could think about was getting away from the bastard’s tyranny, the maniacal reign of terror Diego had imposed. The asshole thought he had me on a short leash. Allowing my impulses to take over, I raised my fist, smashing down, exhaling from the sound of crunching glass and twisting metal.
“Fuck off, asshole.”
The last thing I grabbed before turning out the lights were my sunglasses. Time to hit the road.
I became aware the second I crossed the threshold that there was a presence in the condo, a person hovering in the darkness near the back wall. El Hefe hadn’t wasted any time, which meant killing the woman had indeed been a test of my loyalty. I almost snickered at the realization I’d fallen into a trap. At this point, I had nothing to lose. Dropping the bag onto the floor, I advanced, acting as if I was going into the kitchen. The assailant wasted no time, jumping me from behind.
Bigger and stronger than the jerkoff they’d sent, I tossed him over my shoulders, throwing him against the oven. The few seconds allowed me time to yank out my knife. While the light was almost nonexistent, I was able to focus, making out the gun in the asshole’s hand. The elongated barrel meant a silencer. Kicking out, I hit my target, the weapon spiraling out of his hand. I took advantage of the fact he scrambled, pitching his body to the floor in an effort to grab his gun.
He grunted when I kicked him in the gut, his body careening backward. Another hard thump was followed by a bellow of pain. But the fucker kept crawling, stretching to reach the weapon. I wrapped my hand around his shirt, dragging him to his feet, hesitating. Damn it. They’d sent Breaker to kill me.
With my slight hesitation, Breaker gave me a hard shove, knocking me backwards, but this was a war. Life versus life. Only one of us was walking out of here. I advanced again, swinging the knife, catching him just under the chin. He scrambled, almost maneuvering around me as his body dipped and his hand grasped the gun.
Rage fueled my adrenaline as I stormed closer, my hand wrapping around his long hair and yanking him up and against the refrigerator. For the first time since I’d known the man, I could see a slice of fear in his eyes. I didn’t have to say anything, but he knew exactly what was going to happen. What had to happen. The way of monsters. As I raised my arm, allowing him to catch sight of the jagged blade, I growled. Everything that I’d turned into, the brutal and savage man had one last assignment.
To kill my best friend.
* * *
I walked past the sleek Mercedes, rain still beading on the hood. The expensive piece of tin had never been to my tastes, but always made a statement. Snorting, I headed to the back of the garage and to the massive piece of steel positioned in a rented spot. I’d arrived in Miami on my Harley and I would leave on it. The bike and the jacket were the only two pieces from my past that I’d refused to get rid of. I kept the red and chrome Fat Boy maintained, riding her at least once a month. She was my baby and would help me get the hell out of the city without being noticed.
She started up with no issue and with almost a full tank of gas, I could ride up I-95 to at least Daytona Beach before filling up. As I rolled down the road, roaring up the ramp and onto the interstate, I did everything I could do to put Blade’s persona in a padlocked box. I wanted the cold-blooded freak out of my life permanently.
The bright lights and the big city had brought me nothing but damnation.
There’s nothing like riding down the interstate doing eighty, the wind whipping past. By the time I hit Daytona, there were fewer cars on the road, mostly folks leaving the bars, trying to keep within the lines. I gassed up, grabbed a coffee then headed back out. Getting out of Florida before dawn was in my best interest. After that, it would take Diego and his goons a few hours to regroup, and try to figure out where I’d gone.
I’d told El Hefe little about my life, but he knew enough that I had to be very careful. I also had no idea what he’d learned long before I came to Miami. Still, all ties to the bad seed, as I’d been called by the few members of my real family more than once, had been eliminated. Even names had been changed. At least they’d followed one of my directions. But that had come after making a brutal decision, one that destroyed my entire family. For me? It had been the only choice to make.
I’d simply disappeared one night, heading south on my way to righting a wrong and saving a life. Instead, I’d found hell, including servitude to the devil. I hadn’t thought about the many of the details regarding my past for a long time. The pain had never subsided, only my ability to pretend I was someone else had gotten easier during the years.
The stretch in Georgia was grueling, the adrenaline of the past two days finally wearing off. I’d even been forced to outrun a state trooper since my foot was heavier on the accelerator than normal. The cop had been no match for my well-tuned bike, although I admit, I made another pit stop just in case he was still on my tail.
By the time I hit South Carolina, even my bones were tired, aching to the point my calf muscles cramped. While I would have preferred to get into North Carolina before stopping, Top Sail one of my favorite beaches, I hit the exit for Charleston, determined to find a cheap motel. Shame I hadn’t packed any booze. A drink would have at least put me to sleep, tempering the nightmares that always occurred.
I was just a couple of miles outside of Charleston when the Harley lurched, chugging several times. Fuck. This was the last damn thing I needed. The area I was driving into wasn’t at all what I expected, more rural in nature, with almost nothing commercial. As the sound continued to get worse, turning into a thumping and the steering becoming difficult, I was able to see what appeared to be some kind of hotel just up ahead.
The bike was barely limping by the time I rolled into the parking lot. The two-story motel was the kind of place that had been popular forty years ago. Now, the joint appeared like a bad version of a Bates Motel, complete with missing neon on the flashing sign. At least the sign said vacancy, as if I couldn’t figure the out by the missing cars in the dilapidated parking lot. As long as the place was remotely clean, I’d stay. What the hell other choice did I have?
After securing my helmet and grabbing the duffle, I walked inside the lobby, half expecting to see roaches crawling across the counters. I was surprised to see a quaint hole in the wall. A television was blaring, the sound coming from another room. I was many things, but certainly not patient. Hitting the old-fashioned bell several times, I hovered over the counter.
“Yeah? Hold your fuckin’ horses.” The attendant was older, moving slowly as he made his way to the front, his eyes opening wide the moment he craned his neck in order to look into my eyes. He raised his arms, blinking several times. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“I just want a room. Clean towels. Nothing more.”
A full minute ticked by before he responded. “Sure. I think we have one left.” As he searched throug
h the computer, his entire body quivered. “Got a suite, if you don’t mind paying a couple bucks more.”
I tossed a couple hundred dollar bills on the counter. “Will that do?”
“You bet. I’ll give you access to the mini-bar. Room two-eleven. Best one we got.”
“You tell no one I’m here and we’ll get along just fine.”
He tried to smile, his hand shaking as he offered me the room key. “No one.”
I grabbed the card and headed out the door without saying another word. By the time I climbed the stairs, my mind was foggy and ready to shut down. I locked and bolted the door, dropping my shit and going straight to the small fridge. The cheap scotch would do.
Twisting the top, I dropped onto the bed, staring at the blackened screen on the television. After chugging a majority of the bottle, I realized my hands were now the ones shaking. Hell, every inch of my body was. Within a few seconds, I was forced to accept the fact that I had no one. Nothing.
And even though I was free from the fucker who’d ruled my life, controlling my every move, I dropped my head, anger boiling from deep within my bones.
What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
Chapter Four
Crystal
“So, let me get this straight,” Jessie mused as she threw me a nasty glare. I could tell exactly what she was thinking, even though a good portion of her face was covered by a ghastly pair of sunglasses. Funny how I knew they probably cost more than I made in two weeks. “You had a fantastic dinner with a sexy man, excellent conversation, delicious chemistry then nothing? No fucking in the backseat of his car? No wild sex on your kitchen table?”
I yanked the hair out of my eyes, wincing hearing the words. She was driving way too fast as usual, her little red convertible drawing attention from every red-blooded male, age not dependent. “It was an okay dinner with a nice guy, pretty good conversation, and absolutely no sexual chemistry. Okay?”
“But you still could have fucked him! You don’t always have to like the guy. Just use him. Fuck his brains out.”