Dark Horse: The Kingmaker Saga #5

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Dark Horse: The Kingmaker Saga #5 Page 9

by Miller, London


  Wait a damn minute …

  Uilleam wanted to argue against that, but as the judge glanced down at the documents before her, he wisely kept his mouth shut knowing that anything he said might be to his own detriment.

  After a moment, the judge nodded. “The defendant will hand over his passport, submit to GPS tracking, and I’m setting bail at two-hundred million dollars.”

  The highest bail ever set in this country, Uilleam was sure.

  “Your honor—” Jennifer readied to complain.

  But the woman pierced her with a glance. “I would take this as a win, Miss Gibson.”

  Before anyone else could respond, the judge slammed down her gavel and stood.

  Despite the fact that she’d been ready to complain, Jennifer smiled as she reclaimed her seat. When she met his gaze, her smile only grew wider. “This is going to be fun.”

  And he was still unsure if he was going to prison.

  11

  A Night to Remember

  When the screaming started, Uilleam almost wished he was back at the black site. While it might have been bland and even a touch cold, the men and women there still possessed a healthy amount of fear of him.

  Here, he was treated no better than an animal—worse, even, since they knew it wouldn’t be long before he was actually released on bond.

  For now, he just needed to endure.

  He lay on his back, sleep eluding him, an unfortunate repeat of the last few nights. He had long since given up on finding any comfort in this place, content to suffer for as long as he needed to until they finally allowed him to leave.

  But that didn’t make it any easier.

  It certainly didn’t quiet his thoughts.

  He was contemplating the fresh hell the next day would bring when the lights inside the facility—what few were still on at this hour—all shut off, pitching him into blackness.

  Uilleam turned lazily, trying to put forth the mental energy to care that something was happening. But surely if one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him, he would never see them coming.

  A part of him was almost glad he would at least have some entertainment to take his mind off his troubles, he rolled over on the twin sized cot, facing the bars and the empty hallway. His mind was spinning with possibilities for as long as it took him to see that glimmer of white.

  And all too quickly, it felt as if his heart had seized inside of his chest.

  One day, he thought needlessly, she wouldn’t take his breath away like this. He wouldn’t be reminded of the way she used to smile at him—how she saw the best bits of him and softened the rest.

  Now, she was something of a reflection of himself and he had no one to blame for that but himself.

  He wasn’t sure what compelled him to stand and walk over to the bars—to study her as she studied him. And for once, she didn’t attempt to hide from him—that carefully placed mask she’d been wearing for years had finally come down though he didn’t know for how long.

  “Don’t tell me you broke into a secure building because of me?” he asked, tilting his head as he regarded her.

  From the top of her dark-haired head down to her feet tucked into heeled boots. She was still everything he loved while simultaneously becoming everything he should have hated.

  “What’s a little breaking and entering between associates,” she offered with a ghost of a smile. “Besides, they’ll never know I was here.”

  Then she was admitting it.

  His being here was her doing, not that he’d anticipated otherwise. It didn’t make the revelation any less bitter to swallow.

  The irony of their situation wasn’t lost on him. It hadn’t been that long ago that their positions were reversed and he was on the opposite side of it all.

  Now, he was the prisoner while she was the captor.

  “You must be desperate,” he said folding his arms across his chest.

  “How so?”

  “You’ve come to visit me in person. Considering how much you’ve avoided this over the years, whatever your reasons, they must be important.”

  And even if she wasn’t quite ready to admit as much, he knew the truth. It was written all over her face.

  “So what can I do for you, Karina?”

  “Must everything be a game with you?” she asked, failing to hide her exasperation.

  He touched the bars, resisting the urge to reach out to her. “I thought you quite liked my games.”

  “I did,” she said with a nod. “Until I learned you were playing them with me.”

  “I apologized,” he reminded her, because despite the years between them, he hadn’t forgotten anything that happened between them.

  “Did you apologize,” she asked, “or did you cast blame and make excuses?”

  He’d ...

  Uilleam found he didn’t know how to answer that question. He hadn’t thought much about the distinction between them, but it was clear from her question that she had.

  And when he thought about it, he could acknowledge, if only to himself, that perhaps he hadn’t handled things well with her.

  “I ... could have handled things better,” he conceded.

  That much was an understatement, and judging from the expression on her face, it didn’t seem as if she was even expecting that much from him.

  “The past is the past,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t apologize for things.” His gaze remained level on her face. “It certainly doesn’t mean you don’t feel the ramifications of it.”

  He was certainly dealing with the consequences firsthand.

  Karina didn’t seem to know how to respond as she tucked her hair behind her ear, still refusing to look away from him. “It was bold of you to come back.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll always come back if I know where I’m going.”

  She knew what he meant without his having to explain—he could also tell that knowledge made her uncomfortable.

  “I think you should focus on what’s coming rather than what was, Uilleam.”

  He touched the bars, wishing he could touch her instead but knowing she would pull away if he attempted to. “Why not both?”

  “Good luck, Uilleam,” she said taking a step back. “I think you’re going to need it.”

  Karina turned to walk away, but before she could, he called out to her, “This isn’t over between us. And once this is all over, we’re going to settle this thing between us once and for all.”

  For a moment, she stood in place but after a heartbeat of silence, she started off again, disappearing out of sight.

  * * *

  He should have been celebrating.

  Within seventy-two hours of being back in New York, while he might have been arrested, interrogated, and held in a black site, Uilleam was now free—or as free as a man in his position could be.

  So far, everything was going according to plan, and yet ... he still wasn’t happy. If anything, his mood had only worsened since he left the courthouse earlier that day.

  It didn’t help matters that despite his posting bail and having to surrender one of his many passports, he was still being tracked by the FBI.

  And as he stepped out into the night air, stuffing his hands into his pockets, he was almost certain the black car parked halfway up the block had two agents sitting inside.

  Despite the anklet he wore that only allowed him to go so far away from the hotel where he was staying, he found he was still able to venture down to a club Bunny suggested he visit since it was within acceptable range.

  “Boys are ready when you are,” Bishop said as he came up beside him, a cigarette pinched between his fingers.

  Surveillance and trial or not, Uilleam had appearances to keep up. Though very few of his enemies had started poking around for information about him, he wanted to be prepared for the moment they did.

  He couldn’t afford for anyone to think he was vulnerable, especially at a time like this when
the rumors of his Den’s fall were going around.

  So long as people still thought he had a team of mercenaries at his beck and call, they wouldn’t act against him.

  Yet …

  Steam billowed up from the storm grate as they approached the nondescript building at the corner. The light snow from earlier had melted some hours ago, leaving behind slick black ice Uilleam was careful to walk on.

  Bishop knocked thrice on the heavy door before taking a step back, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

  It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before the slide drew back and a pair of angry, bloodshot eyes stared out at them.

  “Password.”

  “Beware the Jabberwock, with jaws that bite and claws that catch ...”

  The man on the other side slammed the slide closed once more and even from where they stood, Uilleam could hear the heavy locks turning before the door opened and they were ushered inside.

  Bishop stepped forward first into the darkened hallway before Uilleam followed suit.

  There wasn’t much light to begin with, but once the bouncer in the jester costume—this was New York, after all—closed the door after them, that sniffed out what little was left.

  Toward the end of the hallway was a flashing red light, as ominous as the empty hallway itself, but Uilleam could almost hear the thump of the bass music bleeding through the walls and vibrating through the floor.

  From the moment he met her, Uilleam could guess Bunny would have eclectic taste, but he still wasn’t prepared for the rabbit hole he fell down once he passed through the curtains into the main floor.

  There was no doubt in his mind that this was Bunny’s domain. While the Obsidian Hotel was dark and gothic and everything she wasn’t—Wonderland reflected her personality better than anything Uilleam could imagine.

  To his surprise, she wasn’t tucked away in a back office or even behind the bar, but was rather on the stage itself wearing a pale blue dress and white garters.

  Bishop whistled beside him, the sound almost drowned out by the music playing through the speakers. Uilleam, on the other hand, focused his attention on the bar and the drink he was already looking forward to.

  “Careful there, Bishop,” he warned as he turned away from the stage. “I wouldn’t chance being locked in a dungeon for a second time in this life.”

  “Might be worth it with a bonny lass like that,” one of the MacGregor twins said casually, his Scottish brogue making it almost impossible to make out a word he was saying.

  Bunny noticed them, a radiant smile lighting up her face as she stepped off the stage in practiced steps.

  They’d hardly been sitting for very long before a drink was set in front of Uilleam—the same drink he’d ordered the day he met with the Chancellor and told about this place.

  He didn’t bother to ask how they knew.

  Bishop sat with him at the bar and within minutes of being there, Bunny slipped behind the counter.

  For the second time since Uilleam had met her, Bunny hardly paid him any attention, but was focused on Bishop instead, her eyes lighting up the moment he sat at the bar.

  “And to think I thought I wouldn’t be having any fun.”

  Bunny punctuated the remark by abandoning the drink she was making as she climbed up onto the bar, drawing all eyes to her. She smiled as she regarded Bishop, as if the pair of them shared a special secret.

  Uilleam wasn’t sure if there was more to her interest than he’d originally suspected—he rarely kept up with the personal lives of his mercenaries unless there was something worth knowing—but even if there wasn’t, it was becoming quite obvious to him that Bunny at least had an interest in him.

  Which didn’t mean anything good for Bishop.

  Because she came with strings—strings in the form of a man without a sense of humor and a plethora of power.

  Bishop, thankfully, seemed to recognize this.

  “Another time, maybe.”

  He inclined his head before taking his leave.

  “Well he’s no fun,” Bunny said with a pout, still staring after Bishop though he’d long since disappeared around the corner.

  “Don’t mind him,” Uilleam said finishing his drink. “Seven years of captivity will do that to a man.”

  Instead of looking alarmed by that fact, her gaze lit up as she turned a dazzling smile in Uilleam’s direction. “Is that where he got the scars?”

  “Perhaps that’s a question better left for him to answer.”

  “Yeah, alright. So what’s brought you here tonight?” she asked, tapping her lengthy nails against the bar top. “It’s not for the entertainment—you’ve barely looked at the stage since you got here. You got a type or something?”

  An absent smile formed on his face as he contemplated how to answer that. Eventually, he settled on the truth. “Or something ...”

  “What’s her name?” Bunny asked excitedly, leaning in close. “Bobby didn’t want to tell me even when I asked all nice-like.”

  Even after learning the Chancellor’s name and many details about his business and the work he did, Uilleam still had no idea why she called him Bobby. And he doubted, if he asked, that she would be willing to share that information with him.

  “Karina,” he answered, her name coming out a lot smoother since he’d had that drink.

  “Mm, I bet she’d pretty. So what’s the deal? Why are you here instead of with her?”

  “There’s not enough time in the day for me to give you all the reasons for that.”

  Bunny seemed to consider her answer, twirling strands of blonde hair around her fingers. “What’d you do?”

  “What makes you think I did anything?”

  “Men always do. So how bad is your damage? Like on a scale from one to ten?”

  The limit didn’t exist for the damage he had done to her and so many others. He was almost sure that number defied logic.

  “High enough that she hates my very existence.”

  She whistled. “How do you plan fixing that?”

  Uilleam tossed back his drink, setting his glass aside to let her know he was finished for the night. “As soon as I have an answer to that, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

  * * *

  Lightning flashed outside the tall windows inside his suite, briefly illuminating the dark room.

  In the short time since he’d arrived back at Obsidian from Wonderland, the light layer of snow had been washed away by freezing rain and sleet. At least now it seemed the weather better reflected his somber mood.

  Uilleam wasn’t sure how to describe the way he was feeling at the moment.

  Stripping out of his clothes, he tossed them aside before climbing into the cold embrace of black silk sheets, resigned to spending another night staring aimlessly at the ceiling as his mind wandered far too much.

  His insomnia had always been bad since he could remember, but over the years he’d found ways to cope with it by diving into his work and not allowing himself up to breathe until he’d exhausted himself.

  Unfortunately, his work had come to a screeching halt until he had this matter sorted.

  Rubbing his tired eyes, Uilleam contemplated having a drink to mellow himself out until his phone rang.

  For once, he didn’t bother to check who was calling him—he welcomed the distraction.

  He answered the call and put the mobile to his ear. “Yes, speak.”

  “Time has certainly shown you still don’t know how to answer a phone call properly.”

  “Can’t say that I have,” Uilleam responded thoughtfully, placing the call on speaker before tossing his mobile on the bed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

  “My curiosity got the best of me, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh?”

  “For someone that’s on trial for a capital offense, you seem to be taking this all rather well.”

  A ghost of a smile curled his lips. “It’s rare that anything troubles me enough
to make me react … with the exception of you, of course.”

  Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was unsure about how this all would go and especially how it would end.

  “Indulge me, if you will. Why do you presume to think I’m not troubled by anything that’s happening?”

  “You traveled to Wonderland tonight, didn’t you?”

  At that particular question, Uilleam sat up, feeling a rush of something course through him. She’d attempted to pose the question as innocently as she could, but he knew her well enough to hear what she hadn’t said.

  The question behind the question.

  “Are you having me followed, poppet?”

  Even her silence was telling.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ve not entertained anyone since we …” Uilleam wasn’t sure how to describe what happened between them.

  Broke up didn’t seem to fully capture what it was, but it was the closest he could manage.

  “No one?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “Really?”

  “There’s no one I find even remotely as interesting as you.”

  Karina sighed, but her voice lost its edge as she said, “You’ve always had a way with words, Uilleam.”

  “I’d love to say them all to you in person.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  “You won’t be able to stay away from me forever, poppet. We have unfinished business.”

  And it was only a matter of time before he had her alone to discuss it.

  12

  Coffee Conversations

  It was absolutely ridiculous to feel upset at the idea of him venturing into a lounge to blow off steam, yet it was there all the same.

  As she passed another wall of windows on her way to the coffee shop on the corner, Karina was surprised her skin wasn’t glowing green.

  Jealous didn’t begin to cover the way she’d felt last night—or the emotion that still lingered now.

 

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