“The money that had been skimmed. I got a letter today from George. It included the account information where he’d deposited the money.”
“I saw the letter,” he said, but she kept going, talking so fast she talked right over him.
“He left it to me in case something happened to him. But Gerald’s name was on the account, too. He took it all, Trace! The money I needed to pay off the cartel! It’s all gone!”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he roared. Could this shit get any more fucking fucked? “Where are you?”
“In Delaware.”
What the fuck! “For what?” Jesus, he knew for what. This was not good.
He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth when she said, “I’m going to his house. I want that man to look me in the eye and see if he can live with himself since he’s signed my death warrant.”
Walker already knew the answer to that. McMaster didn’t give a fuck about Ellie. He was a selfish McMotherfucker just like his son.
“Ellie,” he breathed. He said each word slowly and distinctly so she knew just how important every word he said was. “Turn around now and get the fuck back here. I’ll handle this.”
“No, Trace. I need to do this. I need to see that rotten bastard. Now I know why George was the way he was.”
No shit.
He took a breath, trying to calm himself down enough so he didn’t flip the fuck out on her. Every syllable was a struggle. “Ellie, you need to listen. Pull over now.”
“No, Trace. I’ll call you afterward.”
“Ellie,” he growled.
“I’m out of time, honey. I received the final text saying time’s up.” The sob she released at the end was more painful than cutting off his own fucking leg. “I have nothing to lose. It may be my only chance.”
“Ellie!” was the last thing he shouted before she hung up.
She might think she had nothing to lose, but he had everything to lose.
He put the Hellcat in reverse, chirping the tires as he hit the gas, then jammed it into drive, leaving two lines of rubber on the street leading out of the cul-de-sac.
Before he totally lost his fucking mind, he called Mercy.
The man’s deep grumble filled his car. “Brother.”
“Ellie’s on her fucking way to Delaware to confront McMaster. I got good intel in hand. I’m heading back to the warehouse with it. Make sure everyone’s there. ETA less than ten.” At a stop sign, he took the balled letter out of his pocket and smoothed it out as best as he could, then quickly snapped a picture of the account information at the bottom and texted it to Hunter with a message that said: Get on it.
He made it to the warehouse in five minutes flat.
Even so, everyone else was already there waiting.
Gerald McMaster stood in the doorway of his house—no, mansion—using his arm to block Ellie’s entry as he looked down his nose at her.
“He wanted me to help you. That’s why he added me to the account. He must have known you were helpless to help yourself. But here’s the thing, my dear, I owe you nothing. My son owed you nothing. If anything, you owe us. He provided for you. Gave you everything you asked for, then you left him. You had zero loyalty to him. So why should I have any for you? All that time and money he invested in you, gone. I warned him you weren’t good enough and you proved me right. A well-bred woman sticks by her husband no matter what. You forget you spoke vows in front of God regarding that loyalty. So now?” He jabbed a finger at her, his cheeks flushed, his dark eyes narrowed. “Get off my property or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and harassment.”
“You—” Her head jerked back as the door slammed shut in her face. She changed the rest of that sentence. “You asshole!” she screamed at the closed door.
The door didn’t respond.
She sank down on the top step of the arched stone entryway and dropped her forehead to her knees. “Omigod. Omigod. Omigod. What the hell am I going to do?”
If only Trace had helped her disappear. Fuck!
It was one thing to die quickly. But to die the same way George did?
It was slow torture.
He suffered.
She was going to suffer.
She was going to pay for his stupidity and greed.
Time’s up.
But was it? Did they even know where she was? Did she still have time to escape before they tracked her down?
Or had they been tracking her the whole time?
Maybe they knew where she was at that very moment.
Shit.
The hair at the nape of her neck stood as she visually scanned the McMasters’ expansive front lawn. She saw nothing. But, of course, they wouldn’t be standing out in the open waving “hello” at her like idiots.
Her eyes landed on Trace’s Ford in the circular driveway. She needed to go. She needed to get lost somewhere, to keep moving until...
Until...
Until what?
The cartel caught up with her?
No matter what, she couldn’t just sit there and give up. She rose to her feet and rushed back to the truck, climbing into the cab.
She glanced at her cell phone that was on the passenger side of the bench seat. It was flashing at her, which meant missed calls or texts. Or both.
Picking up her cell phone, she ignored the notifications and scrolled through her contacts until she got to a familiar number. She called it, hoping she picked up. She needed to hear her voice. Even if it was for one last time.
“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”
Sweetheart.
Only two people in her life had ever called her that. Trace and her mother.
“Hi, Mom. Just checking in.” For maybe the last time. “How are you feeling?”
“Today’s a good day,” her warm, familiar voice wrapped around her heart, giving it a squeeze. Her mother, the eternal optimist.
At least it was a good day for someone.
“That’s good. How’s Frank treating you?”
“Oh, you know your stepfather. He rules this household with an iron fist.”
Ellie laughed to cover her sob. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheek, getting caught in the corners of her mouth. “No, he doesn’t, Mom. He’s a softy.”
“No, he makes me eat all those damn vegetables.”
Her mother was a diabetic, so Frank was always worried about what she ate. “You love vegetables.”
“Don’t tell him that. I use eating them all to negotiate other things.”
Her bottom lip trembled when she asked, “What other things?”
“Like two scoops of ice cream instead of one.” Her mother laughed. “I miss you. When are you coming home for a visit?”
“Soon.”
“Promise? You’ve got nothing to hold you in Denver anymore. You can come back and stay in your old room until you make a solid plan for your future. You’ve been floundering since you left George.”
“I know, Mom. Things were a bit rough for a while. I’m sorry I haven’t called you more often. I’ll come home soon, at least for a visit.”
“I can’t wait. Frank would also love to see you.”
“Me, too.” She stared unseeing out of the windshield. She couldn’t stay parked in the McMaster’s driveway. She wouldn’t put it past the man to call the cops. “Hey, Mom, I’ve got to go now. I just wanted to tell you I love you and I’m thinking about you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. And I think about you every day, even with this old, addled brain of mine.”
Her words made her smile through her tears, even though her mother couldn’t see it and it was a bit shaky. “Give my love to Frank,” she added.
“Will do. Take care of yourself, sweetheart. And call us in a couple days.”
“I will.”
She reluctantly ended the call, closed her eyes, and pressed the phone to her forehead. With a shaky breath, she put the truck in gear and drove away from the McMaster mansion.
As she
pulled out of the long paved lane, she realized the truck’s fuel gauge was on E.
She had no money, no credit card, nothing.
She couldn’t escape anywhere.
Without gas, the truck was dead in the water.
When she pulled into the closest parking lot to regroup, an SUV with tinted windows blocked her in, and she knew her last thought was about to come true.
Not only was the truck dead in the water, so was she.
“Jesus fuck!” he shouted as he read the message from Ellie that had popped up on his phone. “Jesus fuck!”
Mercy grabbed Walker’s hand and tilted the phone toward him so he could read the text.
His silver eyes hit Walker’s and his expression went completely blank. His face turned into a concrete wall.
Walker recognized that look. It was one no one would ever want directed at them. The smell of death usually permeated the air afterward.
However, no one in that room at the warehouse was going to die today.
No, it would be Ellie.
He finally got her back, only to turn around and lose her again.
This time forever.
Mercy read the text out loud. “Time’s up.”
A loud chorus of “fucks” came from the others.
Mercy dropped Walker’s hand and it fell to his side. He’d lost the strength to hold it. He was about to collapse into a broken pile of flesh and bones.
“Keep your shit together,” Mercy barked at him. “That’s a motherfucking order.”
Walker jerked his spine straight and shook himself mentally.
They all needed to think clearly and get a plan in place.
Losing his shit wasn’t going to help Ellie.
So, he collected it and growled, “Whoever’s holding her, we’ll take them out.”
“We had this fucking same convo earlier,” Steel reminded him. “We kill Castellano’s soldiers and we start the war we wanted to avoid.”
Hunter shook his head. “We have to cave, Walker, and give them what they want. We got no other motherfucking choice. Good news is, I now have access to both McMasters’ accounts and we now know that cocksucker was sitting on five million. There’s more than enough to cover the debt. Since we already have the info for the cartel’s account, just say the word and I can do the transfer.”
“We’re not doing it if she’s already dead,” Mercy said, avoiding Walker’s eyes. “They ain’t getting shit if they took her out.”
It was hard to hear, but it had to be said. Walker knew that and he tried not to let the thought that they took her out already fuck with his psyche.
“We need to let them know we have access to the money ASAP,” Hunter said. “It’s better to let them win by getting the dough than Walker to lose Ellie.”
Sounds of agreement came from all of them except Walker and Mercy.
“I fucking hate this,” Mercy growled, his body as tight as a stretched rubber band.
“You’re not the only one,” Walker growled back. He wasn’t the only one in the room who didn’t like to lose.
Eyes the color of frosted ice hit his. “You got their number?”
“All their texts and calls to her phone came through blocked.”
Hunter spoke up, “I can hack into her cell phone account and see if I can somehow dig it up, but it might take a bit. And I might not be successful.”
“Or maybe it wasn’t Ellie who texted that message. Maybe someone else has her phone,” Brick suggested.
Fuck.
“Call it,” Mercy barked, “and give me the fucking phone. You’ve got too much to lose in this deal.”
Walker agreed. He might have gathered his shit, but it was only wrapped up in a string and if he got on the horn with one of the cartel members that fragile string might snap.
He scrolled through his contacts, found Ellie’s and hit the Call button. As soon as he put the phone on speaker, Mercy snagged it out of his hand.
A male voice with a thick Mexican accent filled the room. “She’s been crying and begging for us to let her call Trace. She keeps insisting this Trace has our money. Are you him?”
“I’m the fucking person you need,” Mercy barked. “Getting your fucking money.”
“When?”
Mercy’s head twisted toward Hunter who was waiting, his fingers paused over the keyboard. “Working on it right now.”
“Time has run out.”
“Not if you’d rather be paid. Assuming the money is worth more than the woman’s life to your capo.”
Walker’s jaw flexed at Mercy’s words.
“Money’s always worth more than a useless puta.”
Walker ground his teeth so hard in an effort to keep quiet, his jaw popped at that insult.
“Right,” Mercy said, the single, soft-spoken word, deadly. “Especially this amount of scratch. This ain’t milk money. Gonna make a deal with you.”
“No deals.”
“You’ll fucking like this one.”
A long hesitation. “Talk and I may listen.”
“You’ll get what’s owed, plus.”
“Now you have my attention. What’s the plus?”
“We’re gonna round up to one and a half. Sweeten the pot a little. Consider it a bonus.”
“For?”
“We want her breathing.”
“She’ll keep breathing if we get our money.”
“Not a fucking hair on her head out of place.”
“She’ll be whole.”
“Not a goddamn scratch,” Mercy continued. “For each bruise, mark, scratch we find, one of your soldiers dies.”
“I don’t think you’re in the position to make threats. Especially since we have what you want.”
“I’m always in a position to make guarantees.”
“For that extra two hundred, I can only promise to make sure she’s breathing and whole. Any minor injuries made along the way aren’t negotiable.”
“If she’s DOA, asshole, we’re hacking into Castellano’s fucking account and taking everything back and more. That’s not negotiable, either. Deal?”
Walker held his breath and waited. The seconds ticked off in his head. Each one more deafening than the last.
One.
Fuck.
Two.
Fuck.
Three.
Fuck.
He breathed again when he heard, “Deal. When are you transferring the money?”
Everyone’s eyes in the room landed on Hunter, who began typing furiously. A second later, he glanced up and nodded.
“It’s in there. Check your account. Now, I want the address where you have the woman.”
“I need our accountant to confirm the transaction first. Once he does, I’ll text you the location where you can find her.”
“Whole.”
“Whole,” came through the speaker.
“Don’t fuck this up,” Mercy warned the man.
“She was only a tool to collect our debt. Not sure she’s worth one-point-five, though. Makes me curious about what she has that’s so special.”
“Whole. Untouched. Or Castellano and every one of his lieutenants, including you, are done. That’s a non-negotiable term.”
“You don’t have the balls.”
“Try me.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
The call ended. No one said a word for a full minute. The tension, so thick in the room, could choke him. They were all wired.
They’d dealt with these types of situations before. Both in the military and as Shadows, so they knew how to work as a team.
They also didn’t have to wait for an exact location. That was just burning daylight. They could hit the road and head toward Delaware. Follow the path Ellie did. She probably wasn’t being held far off that path.
The time between when he talked to her and when he received the text wasn’t enough to take her far. She was either still in Delaware or close by in a neighboring state.
Walker
accepted his phone back from Mercy. “We need to hit the road. We could be halfway there when we get that text. I don’t want her waiting for us any longer than she has to.”
She was probably scared to death.
“We’ll take my Rover,” Hunter said, rising from behind the computer.
“No, we’ll take my RPV since it’s bulletproof.” Mercy glanced around the room. “Steel, Hunter and Walker with me. Brick, you’re on McMaster.” He gave Brick a pointed look and his next instruction came out flat, icy and deadly. “Do what you need to do.”
In contrast, Brick grinned and gave him the thumbs up.
“Ryder, you and D get everyone to the compound. Everyone. Get your woman to help. No excuses from anyone. Keep them there until this is over and Walker’s woman is clear. I want all women and children with their men and in one area. No collateral damage.”
“Roger that,” Ryder said and rushed out of the room.
“Let’s go. Hunter grab a laptop, so you have access to any accounts or whatever’s needed. Let’s load up the RPV with what we need to get this done.” Mercy strode to the door but paused before exiting. “Brick, you want someone at your back?”
Hunter spoke up. “I can go with him since I’ll have a laptop.”
“Make sure your connection is secure.”
Hunter grinned and saluted Mercy. “Not a problem, Sergeant Major!”
Mercy shook his head and headed out with Walker and Steel right on his heels.
Chapter Eighteen
Two torturous hours later, he got the text from a blocked number with an address, and Walker immediately plugged it into his GPS.
“Google’s saying it’s a family restaurant, but it’s permanently closed.” Walker looked up from his phone at Mercy’s hard profile. “Got another two and a half to go.”
“That blows,” Steel said from the backseat. “We’ve got no guarantee she’s there or even if she is, she’s alive. Could be driving all this way for fucking nothing.”
As much as he hated to agree with what Steel was saying, it was the hard truth. They could get to the location and the cartel could have lied or they could be walking into an ambush. Mexican drug cartels weren’t the most trustworthy.
“Want the locals to go in?” Mercy asked him.
Guts & Glory: Walker (In the Shadows Security Book 4) Page 20