I forced myself to look, sitting up slowly, my eyes widening in the dim light.
I knew it was impossible, just as my massive belly was impossible, but he was there, nevertheless, sitting on the end of my bed, watching me with cold, impassive eyes. He turned something over in his lap, running his fingers across the object. I realized what it was ...
A knife
“No!” I tried to move away from him, scrabbling under my pillow for the gun I always kept within easy reach, but it wasn’t there, and the size of my distended body made it impossible to move quickly.
“You have my grandchild, Verity. I want the baby.”
“You can’t. It’s not born yet.”
“I don’t care.” He lifted the knife and I stared at him in horror. I was pinned to the bed with the sheer size of my belly. I wanted to get away, but I couldn’t move. All I could do was lie there and wait for him to come. He got to his feet, moving slowly forward, brandishing the blade.
“You took my daughter from me, so now I’m going to take yours from you.”
“I didn’t take Nicole. She came of her own free will!”
“No, you turned her against me. You owe me a child.” He brandished the blade. “Now hold still. If you struggle too much, I’ll hurt the baby.”
“No, please, don’t!”
The blade pressed against my skin, pin pricks of blood blooming on my distended flesh. I felt my baby’s hand push back against the knife, just as it had done against my palm only moments before. In my head, I could see its tiny fingers being sliced by the blade, and I opened my mouth and screamed ...
***
I bolted upright in bed, the scream lodged in my throat. My hand instantly went to my belly, only slightly rounded, not huge and swollen like in my dream. I’d expected my fingertips to come away hot and sticky with blood, but they only met with smooth skin. I was panting hard, my clothes, which I’d fallen asleep in, wet with sweat and clinging to my body.
Still, my father’s presence had followed me out of my dream, and I reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp, desperate to reassure myself it had only been a figment of my imagination. Ever since I’d been pregnant, my dreams had been increasingly vivid, often filled with paranoid visions about the baby, but that one had been the worst. The memory of the blade sinking into my skin, of knowing the baby was right beneath the surface, caused a shiver to wrack through me.
It had been a mistake to leave my father up in the Catskills without first seeing a body. But we’d been running out of time, and I’d been through a physical trauma. We couldn’t have spent the rest of the night out there looking for him, when we’d never have found him.
If he was still alive, he’d have turned up by now, I felt sure. We’d taken the keys for the car. He had no way of getting away from there, even if he’d been in any state to drive, which I was sure he hadn’t. I’d heard the crack when Nicole had hit him. She must have fractured his skull. Surely, he wouldn’t have walked away from that?
A surge of longing for X rose inside me. I missed him desperately in that moment, as though an actual part of me was missing, something deep inside me, intrinsic to keeping me functioning as a normal human being. The strength of the feeling stole my breath and I sat on the edge of the bed, and put my head in my hands, just waiting for the emotion to loosen its grip.
I knew I wouldn’t sleep again that night. Reaching beneath my pillow, I removed the gun I’d placed there before drifting off. This time, it was right where it was supposed to be. Keeping it in my grip for reassurance, I took the gun downstairs to make some coffee and wait for morning to arrive.
Chapter Twelve
X
I stood in the showers, using the lukewarm water and commissary bought soap to wash away the scum of the jail. I lifted my face to the stream of water, closing my eyes and trying to pretend I was somewhere else.
The conditions here were terrible—only a handful of the showers worked and there were always massive lines waiting for them. I’d taken to getting up earlier, even though we were already woken up at a stupidly early time, purely to get into the bathroom before anyone else did. Of course, I was never completely alone—others had the same idea—but it was still a vast improvement on the multiple inmates all waiting for one shower. The top dogs still pushed in, despite others waiting longer, but no one ever said anything.
The shower door slammed open, making me jump.
Getting caught naked in the shower was not something you wanted to do in a place like this.
“What the fuck.” I reached out and grabbed my towel from where I’d slung it over the top of the door, not caring that it was getting wet.
Callum and his friends—the same ones who had attacked me in the grounds—were standing outside of the shower door. Several bangs sounded, and wet feet on tiles, as the few others using the showers realized trouble was coming and made themselves scarce.
“Hey, pretty-boy,” said Callum, propping himself up against the side of the shower. “Relax.”
“You just burst in on me in the shower. The last thing I’m going to do is fucking relax.”
“Jesus.” Behind Callum, Shawn’s gaze took in the patchwork of scars which littered my torso. The towel I held against me was only big enough to go around my waist. “What happened to you?”
“None of your fucking business. Now get the hell out of here.”
Bizarrely, Callum laughed. “We just wanna talk.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Who was that broad who came to visit you the other day?”
My stomach sank. Fuck. I knew someone would recognize her.
“No one. Just some chick I’ve been screwing.”
Callum’s eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. If you don’t know who that is, you’ve been living under a rock.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I guess I like rocks.”
“That was Verity Guerra sitting opposite you the other day. She’s the daughter of the mafia don, Michael Guerra. Mickey Five Fingers. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of him.”
“Rings a bell, but I’m not from around here, so I guess I don’t hang out with the in crowd.”
“Thing is, Verity Guerra vanished several months back. Rumor was she’d gone into Witness Protection so she could testify against Mickey, who was locked up for his wife’s murder. Can you believe that? She’d testify against her own father? What a fucking bitch.”
I clamped my mouth shut. Now wasn’t the time to defend Vee.
“So, what am I supposed to think when I see you sitting opposite a known rat?” Callum continued. “Do I have to start wondering if we have our very own rat in our midst? You know what we do with rats? We catch ’em and we kill ’em.”
“I’m no rat,” I said, trying to hold it together. I didn’t need this shit right now, and I hoped this wasn’t going to affect Vee in any way. I hated the idea of her not being able to come to visit me, but this was going to go down the road to trouble. If it didn’t cause problems for me on the inside, which it clearly already was, then I was sure these men had people on the outside who would be able to track her down.
He sidled closer and the knot in my stomach tightened.
“Well, if you’re not a rat, and she’s not a rat, maybe we can be friends. Friends help each other, you know. I see you’ve been having problems with one of our local C.O.s. That could either get better, or worse, depending on how you play things now.”
“I don’t need friends like you.”
Callum swiftly stepped forward, his arm against my throat, slamming me up against the wall of the shower. His buddies moved in as well, tightening the circle.
“Wrong. Fucking. Answer,” he said, slowly.
I shoved him away. “Get the hell off me!”
“I’ve got friends on the street, you know. Verity Guerra has contacts we could use, and I want you to make that happen.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that when I’m in here?”
“You tell h
er to play nicely. If she does, we’ll let you keep your teeth.”
I clenched my fists, ignoring the pain that shot up through my injured hand. “I don’t give a shit about my teeth.”
“You care about her, though. If either of you step out of line, the other one will find a whole heap of crap falling on their heads.”
“You’re blackmailing me.”
He laughed then clapped me on my bare, damp shoulder. “Excellent. You’re finally getting it. So, here’s how this goes. I’m going to be sending some people Verity Guerra’s way, and she’s going to give them some business. Blood Legion, the gang I’m part of, is sick of using robberies and counterfeiting to get money. We need something a little more profitable.”
“Keep your goddamned white supremacist shit away from Verity,” I snarled.
“Or what? What are you going to do? I’ll tell you. Not a fucking thing. You try anything in here and I’ll send them around with more on their minds than a little business. You understand what I’m saying?”
I gritted my teeth against my fury, causing pain to throb up through my face from my bruised jaw. “Verity is never going to work with those men, and you know Mickey Five Fingers is her father. You think he’s going to go for this shit? He’s not going to hand over some of his business without good reason.”
“Word on the street is Mickey is away right now, so it’s up to Verity what happens.”
“She won’t work with your gang,” I insisted.
“She will if she knows I have your balls in a vice.”
Fuck. There was nothing I could do. My silence was enough to be taken as my agreement.
Callum reached across and patted me on the cheek. “There. I knew you’d see sense. Nice doing business with you.”
With that, the three of them turned away and left the shower block.
I breathed out slowly and placed my forehead against the cool of the tiled wall. What the hell was I supposed to do? I needed to make a phone call and try to warn Verity, but what could I say to her? If we didn’t go along with what Callum wanted, one or both of us would end up hurt. The thought of men in a gang called Blood Legion hurting Vee—and most likely the baby, too—was like ice to my heart.
Prisoners weren’t allowed to make phone calls yet, so I had no choice but to dress and head back to my bunk. I was relieved to see Callum and the others weren’t there, but had congregated around one of the other’s bunks farther down the dorm. I climbed up onto my bed and threw myself onto my back, trying to figure a way out of this mess.
“You okay, dude?” a voice hissed at me.
I glanced over to see Eddie, the young guy who’d given me his Cheetos on my first day here, looking over at me expectantly. I’d returned the snacks, with extra as interest.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure about that?”
“Seriously, you don’t want to get involved.”
“Trouble with those assholes, huh?” He jerked his head toward where Callum and his groupies were hanging out. “They’re just a bunch of overgrown bullies who never got out of high school mentality.”
“Yeah, maybe, but I bet they’re a whole lot meaner than they were in high school.”
His gaze searched my face. “I think you could be trouble, too, if you decided it.”
The guy was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for.
“Me? Nah. I’m a puppy-dog. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
The guy smirked.
I didn’t want to continue the conversation, so I picked up the book I was reading. I stared at the pages without taking in a single word. Those sons-of-bitches knew who Vee was. She’d already ended up in danger once because of me, and I didn’t plan on letting it happen again. But cogs were already turning. Things already set in progress. I knew Vee could handle herself, but I needed to warn her about the possibility of dangers coming from a direction she wouldn’t be expecting. She had to prepare herself for a gang of skinheads potentially trying to get something out of her. I hoped them knowing Mickey Five Fingers was her father would keep them away. They wanted me to be the one to convince her to hand over part of the Guerra business so they’d avoid bringing down the wrath of Mickey. Of course, they didn’t know he was dead.
It suddenly became vitally important that Mickey’s body was never found.
Chapter Thirteen
V
The buzzer sounded for the front door. I checked the camera. Shit. It was Detective Caraway again, only this time he wasn’t alone. What was going on? Had he discovered something about X’s case? The fact he wasn’t alone made me think whatever he wanted wasn’t going to be good, so I braced myself.
I had no choice but to let him in. I needed to know what he wanted.
I hit the buzzer for the gates and they slid open. Someone else must have been driving, as he climbed in the passenger side this time. It hardly seemed worth it, considering he didn’t exactly have to walk far to reach the front door, but perhaps he didn’t want his driver riding alone, or else he was worried someone would start taking shots at him from the house and he was better protected inside the car.
Nicole approached from behind me. “It’s that cop again,” she said, as though I didn’t already know that.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“What does he want?”
“I guess we’re about to find out.”
I opened the front door to see him and another cop, also plain clothed, approaching the house.
Caraway nodded at me. “Miss Guerra, may we come in?”
I held his gaze. “Why?”
“Your father has been found.”
The world dropped away from beneath me and my legs weakened. Nicole let out a strange squeak from behind me, and I reached out to steady myself on the door frame.
“What?” I managed to say, though my voice sounded distant.
“I think perhaps we should come in so you can sit down. You’ve gone pale, Verity. Your sister doesn’t look much better.”
I was in shock. I didn’t think his body would be found until spring at the earliest. Who would have been hiking around those areas at this time of year?
I nodded and pushed myself away from the door frame, and managed to right myself. I turned and caught Nicole’s eye. She widened her eyes at me in fear, and I shot her a stern look, eyes narrowed, lips pressed together, nostrils flared. She needed to keep her mouth shut. As far as we were concerned, we knew nothing about the whereabouts of our father except that he’d gone on a business trip. Mickey Five Fingers had enough enemies. There was no reason the cops should think we had anything to do with his death.
I led them into the sitting room and motioned for both the detectives to take a seat. They both chose an easy chair each, perching awkwardly on the edges, and Nicole and I sat beside each other on the couch. Her hand found mine, and I squeezed it tight. We would only look like concerned sisters comforting each other. Not guilty parties.
I didn’t know what to say to start the conversation without looking like I was preempting something. I couldn’t say anything that might make them think I already knew he was dead.
“So,” Caraway said, leaning forward, his forearms on his knees, “your father isn’t in a good way.”
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
A high-pitched buzzing filled my ears and my heart palpitated in my chest, feeling as though it was running too fast, making it hard for me to catch my breath.
“He’s been taken to the hospital, but I’m afraid to say he’s suffering from both head injuries and hypothermia. It would seem a local woman took him in and has been treating him herself when he should have been admitted to the hospital right away. We can’t say for sure what damage was done during the time when he should have been getting professional medical help, but it appears the woman was suffering from some mental issues and thought she was doing the right thing. Anyway, your father was well enough to manage to get to safety, though he told the couple who picked him up off the sid
e of the road that the woman wouldn’t let him leave. She saved his life, but she may have damaged him long term as well.”
Beside me, Nicole burst into tears. I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and pressing her head to my shoulder. I only felt numb inside. I guessed a part of me had always believed this would happen. But each day that had gone by without any word had made me think he couldn’t have survived out there. Seemed I was wrong.
Nickie’s narrow shoulders shuddered beneath my hands, and I was terrified she was going to blurt something along the lines of ‘but he was supposed to have been dead.’
I did what I always managed to do in a complete mind-fuck of a situation. I stayed calm. “Which hospital is he in?”
Detective Caraway told me the name of one about an hour’s drive away. “I realize this is a difficult situation for you,” he continued. “I’m not even sure how to approach it myself, to be honest. You were due to testify against him, but he was released. You say he set up your ... partner?”
I nodded to let him know the use of the term was correct. Boyfriend just never felt right when it came to what X and I had between us. It was too free and easy, too casual. We were definitely partners.
Caraway cleared his throat. “So, you say he set up your partner then vanished, and you end up living back in this house. It would seem to me you didn’t think he was coming back any time soon, and then he shows up badly hurt.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. All I know is that my father wanted to make amends, and then he went away on business. That’s why we figured it was safe for me to be here.”
“So, Nicole,” the detective said, turning his attention to my sister. “You may have been the last person he spoke to before whatever happened to him to put him in hospital. Did he give you any clues as to who he was meeting or where he was going?”
Nicole lifted her head from my shoulder and sniffed. “No. He never tells us anything.”
I didn’t want Caraway asking her too many questions. I butted in. “If he’s talking, why doesn’t he tell you what happened himself?”
Judged (The Mercenary Series Book 4) Page 7