Wicked Sinner

by Stacey Kennedy

  But that didn’t mean he’d stop trying.

  He’d never stop protecting her.

  His feet were moving him in the direction of his car before he could even decide where they should take him. After he got in and the engine purred, the passenger-side door opened. Rhett slid into the back and Boone took the front seat.

  “Where to?” Boone asked, buckling up his seat belt.

  Asher put the car in first gear. “The station.”

  “For?” Rhett asked from back seat.

  “For Boone to grab his files on King,” Asher explained, hitting the gas. “I can’t sit around and wait. We’ve seen Lars with the security team working for King. You’ve got a list of all their known meeting places?”

  “Yeah,” Boone said.

  Asher shifted into gear. “Then we’ll hit every single one until we find Remy.”

  Chapter 18

  The SUV pulled into a long curving driveway hugged by a forest, and sweat beaded against the back of Remy’s shirt. She contemplated running when she exited the vehicle but she caught sight of the weapon again and went willingly toward the front door. Asher and the guys would find her. That she trusted wholeheartedly. She simply needed to stay safe until then, and to do that, she needed to be smart.

  Flanked by two men, she was led into a large log home set back in the woods, with Lars trailing behind them. She hastily took in her surroundings. From the expensive-looking furniture to every little design element, the cottage screamed money. They moved through the open-concept living room and into a library that held a big cherrywood desk and wingback leather chair. But it was the man sitting at that chair who quickly drew her focus.

  Joaquin King. Son of the King crime boss, Stefano King, who had been sent to prison back in the nineties and died there. Remy knew all about him from Hank and Boone casually talking about him, and from the news. From what she recalled from their talks, Joaquin had picked up where his father left off, but he was a different kind of criminal than his father. Where his father had been brutal and cutthroat, Joaquin was smart and ruthless. He’d created an empire where business walked the line between dirty and clean, and he’d played the game so well that he’d never been arrested. Not once.

  Joaquin’s dark blue eyes regarded her intently as she entered the room. His presence was as threatening as it was imposing. His black suit jacket was resting on the back of a leather chair, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up on his strong forearms. His face was all hard lines and his five-o’clock shadow only seemed to heighten his dark broodiness. “Remy Brennan,” he finally said in a low, throaty voice. “Please, come sit.”

  She swallowed her nerves and sat in the client chair in front of the desk.

  “Do you know who I am?” Joaquin asked, forearms casually leaning on the armrests of his chair.

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Good, that keeps things easy,” he said with a smile that never reached his eyes. For a moment, his gaze flicked over her shoulder before returning to her. “Lars has indicated that you and Andrew Phillips have been in business together, but I wanted to hear that from you.”

  “I have no idea who Andrew Phillips is,” she admitted.

  Joaquin gestured with a flick of his chin. “How can she not know who Andrew is?”

  Lars sidled up next to Remy’s chair, hands laced behind his back. “She knows him as Damon Lane.”

  Joaquin’s hard gaze returned to Remy. “Is that true?”

  Remy noted a certain calmness about Joaquin that was utterly terrifying. Remy got the real sense that one wrong move on her part and she wouldn’t see tomorrow. “Yes, I know Damon Lane. I almost married him a few weeks ago, but luckily, I found out that he was conning me out of my inheritance.”

  “Fucking lies,” Lars spat, a vein in his head nearly popping.

  Joaquin coolly arched an eyebrow at her. “Is that a lie?”

  Remy finally breathed, letting the tension go from her chest and shook her head. “I’ve told Lars on multiple occasions now that I have nothing to do with Damon, or Andrew, or Kyle, or whoever he is. I was the victim in all this, and I’m not sure why he keeps thinking that I have some part in it. He’s wrong.”

  Joaquin frowned at Lars. “I’m beginning to think that you’ve got a problem here.”

  Remy took a quick look at Lars and saw the slight tremble of his hand. It dawned on her then that Lars wasn’t the bad guy there. He was a man caught in something he needed a way out of, and Remy was his way out.

  Lars drew in a deep breath and set his hard gaze on Remy. “She’s a fucking liar. She bought a shop recently, without any money in her bank account, and with cash. She thinks she can outsmart us, but she’s in this with Andrew. I promise you that.”

  Joaquin leaned back in his chair and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully on Remy. Everything in the room seemed to freeze under his careful regard. Her heart pounded in her ears when he suddenly rose and moved to the window, staring out with his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to explain the situation to you, Ms. Brennan,” Joaquin said, not looking back at her. “I am a businessman. Unlike my father, I like things to stay on the right side of the law if possible. Mr. Violi’s sister had agreed to invest two hundred thousand into a company of mine. The deal had come through, Mr. Violi, isn’t that right?” He glanced over his shoulder at Lars, and the fierceness in his expression sent her heart into her throat.

  Lars glanced at his feet. “Yes, sir.”

  “I take my investments very seriously, Ms. Brennan,” Joaquin continued, turning around, staring solely at her now. “And when the investment came due, we learned from Lars of the situation with Andrew…” He paused and his mouth twitched. “Excuse me, Damon Lane, running off with the money.” Joaquin returned to his seat. “I instructed Lars to not only find Mr. Lane, but to find the money that had been stolen from me.”

  A sudden coldness struck Remy to the core. Sure, all along she’d had her suspicions that Damon’s money had something to do with all this, but now she understood why Damon’s money had something to do with all this. It wasn’t Damon’s money at all. Nor was it Lars’s money. That money belonged to Joaquin King, and that’s very likely the reason Damon died.

  “When Mr. Violi found Damon Lane,” Joaquin continued, “he agreed to return the money that he stole from me, and in doing so, we could put this matter to bed.”

  “Too late for that,” Lars spat, “she fucking spent it.”

  Joaquin’s fierce gaze cut to Lars, and he took a step back.

  Remy became very aware that the two security guards moved a little closer in their direction. “This is where we are at, Ms. Brennan,” Joaquin said, coming to lean forward on his desk, his strong forearms flexing. “I need the truth from you. Have you spent the money that Damon Lane was supposed to return to me?”

  There were times to lie and times to be honest. The darkness in Joaquin’s eyes told Remy the latter was the only option. “I thought the money was Damon’s. I found it in my house.”

  “You didn’t think to turn it in to the police?” Joaquin asked.

  “Yes, of course, I did,” Remy explained. “But—”

  “You fucking spent it,” Lars injected.

  Joaquin’s nostrils flared. “If you interrupt our conversation again, Mr. Violi, we will have a problem.”

  Lars shut his trap and moved back to the door.

  Joaquin’s expression softened a smidgen when he glanced at Remy. “Go on.”

  She drew in a deep breath and then said, “I’d been hurt by Damon, and when I found the money, I felt like…”

  “You were owed the debt,” Joaquin finished for her.

  She shrugged. “Something like that.”

  He sat back in his chair and watched her for a long moment, tapping his thumb against the desk. “I believe what you’re telling me.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “It’s the truth.”

  He acknowledged that with a nod, then added, “But regardle
ss of the fact that I believe you, this has created a situation for you, Ms. Brennan.”

  She shut her mouth now, sensing a shift in him, a hardness that had her knowing the best thing to do was stay silent.

  “That money,” he added firmly, “is my money. I do not take kindly to people who spend money that is mine. Do you understand?”

  Oh, yeah, she fully understood. She’d seen the news articles detailing the murders of men and women who got in the way of business deals that all came back to King. She also remembered Boone’s frustration when he worked a case involving Joaquin. His men were wicked smart and had yet to leave a single trace of evidence, and those who worked for King were loyal to the bone. “Yes, I understand.” She needed to get that money back to him, and she needed to do that yesterday.

  Right then, the door opened, and another well-dressed, well-muscled man entered. He didn’t even acknowledge her and moved to Joaquin and said something in his ear. Joaquin rose. “You’ve got three days to return my money, Ms. Brennan.” Everything about Joaquin screamed deadly, but most of all the cold iciness in his eyes was what kept her pinned to her seat. “You seem like a smart woman,” he added, slipping into his blazer. “Do not disappoint me. I’ll be in touch.”

  His men followed him out, along with Lars, who glared at her on his way out the door.

  Right as that door closed, another door flew open and Asher charged into the room, his weapon aimed out in front of him. Everything that had been wrong a second ago was suddenly all better with those green eyes on her. There was a flurry of chaos as Boone and Rhett followed him inside, quickly scanning the room, weapons drawn.

  Asher’s gaze stayed trained on Remy. He lowered his gun and rushed forward, taking her in his arms, giving her a good look over. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded, her adrenaline making her shake all over. “Yes, I’m all right.”

  Rhett kept his weapon aimed down the hallway. Boone entered the room farther and glanced out the window. “Are you alone?”

  “Now, yes.” She gestured at the other door. “They went out that way.”

  Tires against gravel cut through the air and Boone turned away from the window. “They’re gone.”

  Asher took Remy’s hand and tugged her in front of him and behind Boone. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I’ve never been happier to hear those words in all my life,” she breathed.

  All together, they backed up out of the room and then Rhett carefully led them down the hallway. They hurried into Asher’s car, Remy and Asher in the back, and Boone in the passenger seat. Rhett jumped in the driver’s seat and with a squeal of his tires, he sped away.

  Silence thickened the air in the car as Asher yanked her to him, holding her tight. He kissed the top of her head and said, “Jesus Christ, Remy. I have never been so fucking scared.” He leaned away and looked over her again, scanning her from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “They didn’t hurt me, they just wanted to talk.”

  Emotion flared in his eyes. He cupped her face and pressed his lips against hers. His kiss was fierce and everything she needed to ease the chill in her bones. She’d landed herself in quite the mess, and she considered how to explain all this. Just spending Damon’s money was bad. This?

  A total clusterfuck.

  When Asher broke away, he said, “You must have been so scared. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have fucking been there.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

  She leaned into his strength and warmth. “I knew you’d come.”

  He moved away then, brushing his hand across her cheek. “Always, Remy. I’ll always come for you.” Then he sealed his mouth against hers again for a long, sweet moment. He gathered her in his arms even closer and held her tight like nothing would ever touch her again.

  They drove for a good twenty minutes, and only when she stopped shaking did she break the silence. “How did you find me?” she asked, realizing she was gripping his T-shirt. She released her hands.

  Asher’s arms only tightened. “We were looking at known King-associated places, but Fitz got the license plate number. A trucker saw the SUV and called it in. We were only ten minutes away and came.” A pause, then his voice tightened. “Was it Lars in that SUV?”

  Remy nodded against his warm chest. “He was there, yes.”

  Asher slid out of his coat, then wrapped it around her like a blanket as Boone turned around in the passenger seat and said, “You need to talk to us, Remy, explain what happened there. What did Lars want?”

  Remy knew the reaction she was going to get, but there was no denying that she was way in over her head. She looked at Asher, and he cupped her face as she said, “It wasn’t Lars who wanted to talk to me.”

  Surprised flickered across his face. “Then who was it?”

  “Joaquin King.”

  Rhett slammed on the brakes and pulled the car off the road. He turned back to her. “Joaquin King was there?”

  She nodded, inching her way closer to Asher to get his warmth, and her eyelids suddenly felt heavy. “He was the one who wanted to talk to me.”

  Rhett frowned. “Damn, Remy, what the hell have you gotten yourself involved in?”

  Asher tucked a firm finger tucked under her chin. His gaze was firm but tender. “You’re not alone in this. Explain what happened so we can help you.”

  Remy could run and hope that she could hide from this, but she could feel the concern running through the air like electricity. She feared all the good steps she and Asher had taken forward would be erased when she told them the truth. That’s what made this all so hard. She’d brought her friends into a dangerous situation, a situation none of them deserved. She let her droopy eyes shut with tears behind her eyelids. “Take me home and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Chapter 19

  “I found two hundred thousand dollars in my house. I thought the money belonged to Damon, so I used it to buy my shop. Apparently, the money belongs to Joaquin King, and he wants it back.”

  Asher stared at Remy. She was sitting across from him on his couch while his ass was parked on his coffee table. He’d repeated what she told them a dozen times, and yet, the words and danger they presented couldn’t sink in. She sat cross-legged with her gaze glued on Salem purring in her lap. Asher slowly turned his head, taking in Boone’s frown and Rhett’s wide eyes, telling him that his hope that he’d heard things wrong was just that…a hope. And that Remy had indeed landed herself directly in trouble she shouldn’t be anywhere near.

  “Damn.” Rhett finally broke the silence, standing near the window, arms folded over his chest. “Didn’t your cards or whatever smelly shit you burn tell you this was a horrible idea?”

  She shrugged. “Spiritually, I actually got the go-ahead.”

  Thick tension filled the room as Boone took the seat on the couch next to Remy. “I’m trying to understand how this all came about,” he said softly. “Doing something like this…it’s very unlike you, Remy. What were you thinking?”

  She kissed Salem, who purred and rubbed his head into her chin. “I was only thinking that I was angry at Damon. I found the money and thought I deserved something for all the shit he’d put me through. His money gave me the shop and made my dreams come true. I thought he owed me that.” Her voice trembled as she petted Salem, her full attention on the cat.

  Asher stared blankly, still trying to accept that she’d used dirty money to buy herself a shop. She’d never taken a step out of place. What in the fuck had Asher done to her?

  Boone gave Asher’s foot a kick. He blinked into focus as Boone asked her, “You weren’t afraid Damon would come back for the money?”

  She gave a little shrug. “I told Damon that I’d found the money and turned it in to the police.”

  Asher’s teeth ground together. He and Boone had driven Remy and Kinsley to see Damon once more in Whitby Falls. They’d told Asher that Remy wanted closure, considering how she’d left Damon bef
ore. “You lied to me?” Asher asked, hearing the controlled rage in his voice.

  Still not looking up, she nodded. Salem purred louder.

  From his spot near the window, Rhett said, “I take it that Damon believed you?”

  She glanced up then, and nodded at Rhett. “Yeah, I was convincing.”

  Asher inhaled deeply and worked at the tension along his neck. Boone’s gaze lifted to Asher’s, and Boone didn’t say a word. Neither did the frowning Rhett. They’d been wrong all along. Fanning wasn’t murdered because he’d scammed Violi’s sister. He’d been murdered because he owed King money. Money that he’d obviously withdrew to pay back the debt to save his life, but didn’t have the chance to repay because Asher had arrested him.

  Now that debt fell onto Remy’s shoulders.

  Adrenaline rushed through Asher’s body, tightening his quivering muscles. He couldn’t stand her avoidance any longer and tucked a finger under her chin, demanding her gaze. “Do you have any idea—”

  The door slammed open. Asher, along with Boone and Rhett, lurched to his feet, with his weapon aimed at the front door.

  Kinsley froze, eyes wide and glossy. She raised her hands in surrender. “Holy shit,” she breathed.

  “Goddamn it, Kinsley,” Boone chastised, putting away his weapon. “Do you want to die?”

  “Not particularly.” She blinked, the color slowing returning to her face. “But when Peyton told me that you guys knew everything, I knew you were probably interrogating Remy, and this is not her fault.”

  Peyton entered the house and sighed. “Sorry, there was no stopping her.” She shut the door and glanced at Remy sitting on the couch. The way she avoided Boone’s gaze told Asher that they were all in on this.

  Something Boone obviously caught too. “Please tell me you both did not know about this.”

  “We knew,” Peyton said to the floor.

  Boone ran off a string of curses that would make a sailor proud. “What in the hell were you all thinking?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Asher growled. Unable to sit down any longer, he moved away from the coffee table and began pacing in front of his television. “This was bad enough when only Remy was involved.” He set his hard gaze on each one of the women. “But all of you were in on this insane plan?”