The Red Ledger, Book 4

by Meredith Wild

  I lower to my haunches and study her. Her ripped clothes. The telltale glaze of blood and come smeared along her thigh that’s obvious now. Rage lights up like a firestorm in my veins. Where the fuck is Crow? Because he will surely be answering for this disaster of an interrogation as soon as I see him again.

  “They raped you?”

  She doesn’t answer. Averts her eyes, her chin trembling.

  “Which one?”

  “The one with the knives. After Crow left, he…he—”

  “Don’t. You don’t have to say anything else.”

  My thoughts start spinning wildly now. The layout. The plan. Two paths and the sudden recognition that I could go down one more easily than the other. End this poor woman’s torture and the torture she’s inflicted on me over the past three years. Or take another path. One that feels wrong and right at the same time.

  “What do you know, Jay?”

  She lifts her head, her bloodshot eyes still a piercing blue against the rainbow of abused flesh. A single tear travels down her cheek and drops onto her dirtied pencil skirt.

  “I know everything.”

  The hum of an engine grows louder and closer. In my bones, I know it’s Crow. The fork in the road is minutes away. Seconds away…

  “This is what we’re going to do, Jay.”

  She blinks her eyes slowly.

  “I need you to listen very carefully. And do exactly what I tell you to do.”

  “I will,” she whispers. “Just don’t let them—”

  “No. That shit is over. Come with me.”

  I coax her upright just as Crow’s voice bellows from outside. The door swings open, and his round comrade saunters in.

  “Hey, boss is back.” He lifts his eyebrows at Jay’s upright figure. “What’s up? You gonna give her a ride? She’s not half bad.”

  I force a laugh and give her arm a firm squeeze before letting her go. She stiffens, sways a little with her hands bound behind her, but manages to hold herself upright as I walk toward the man.

  “I just had a quick question.”

  I meet him in the middle of the barn, and now I’m smiling for real. As soon as I’m close enough, I swing and stab my knuckles into his larynx. The damage is nearly soundless and clogs his next breath. Grabbing the collar of his cheap polo shirt, I drag him to the other side of the barn and loop a hanging length of chain around his useless neck, tethering him there.

  His eyes are wide with horror, his thick arms flailing, but all he can do is clamor at the chains and gasp for the air he’s not getting.

  “Do you know why this is happening to you?”

  He shakes his head, with more gasps and soundless words I don’t care about.

  “You’re a disgusting sack of shit, that’s why. Just in case your buddies get you out of this jam, I’m going to teach you a quick lesson.”

  Sadly he’s without his knife, but I see something better hanging on the wall.

  “Perfect,” I say with lightness that probably has him shitting his pants.

  After unhooking it, I take a moment to appreciate the sickle’s antique wooden handle. I run my finger along the long curved edge, grateful that it’s not too dull for my intentions.

  I lift my stare to his panicked one. He’s fervently shaking his head. I smile. This shouldn’t be so satisfying. I’m not into torture. I am into revenge, though, and what he’s done to Jay makes me sick. And when I think about it, all the rage it inspires moves me. Swiftly and directly, I hook the blade into the flesh between his thighs. He makes a choked sound, and his eyes and mouth go perfectly round.

  “Don’t stick your dick in a woman without asking permission.”

  “Red, what the fuck!”

  I turn to see Crow hovering near the barn door. The other men flank him and draw their guns. I keep walking toward them, undeterred.

  I point to Crow. “You and I need to talk. Outside. Now. Call off the dogs.”

  He’s huffing, his face red with irritation. “That’s my cousin.”

  “Sorry,” I say flatly. “He’s going to need a tracheotomy and probably some therapy. Why don’t you guys go help him out.”

  Crow hesitates a moment longer. We both stare at his cousin, whose trousers are saturated with deep crimson. Finally Crow nods to the guys, who run over to the man and start unwrapping the chain around his neck.

  I cuff my hand around Jay’s arm and face him. “The only thing you managed to get right was snatching her without anyone in the Company following you. The rest of this is a nightmare. Now I’m going to fix it.”

  His face falls as understanding dawns. “Wait. You’re not taking her. No fucking way, Red. I brought her in.”

  “Yes, I am taking her,” I reply calmly. “And you’re going to let me. Because she’s going to tell you what you need to know right now.”

  Crow blinks as if he’s just figured out that he’s about to get what he wants after hours of pointless torture.

  I lift my chin toward the door. “Let’s walk.”

  We walk a ways into the field until we’re almost back to my car. Crow finally halts and turns to me.

  “We going to talk or what?”

  “What do you want to know? Do you have a pen or something to write this down?”

  Jay’s muscles go lax in my grip, the relief rippling off her in invisible waves.

  He withdraws a receipt out of his back pocket, and I fish out a pen from my jacket when he can’t find one.

  “Hurry,” I say. “Your cousin needs an ambulance, and I don’t trust those idiots not to call one.”

  “All right. Wait a sec. Shit.” He palms his forehead. “Starla Velasquez.”

  A few seconds go by, and for a moment I worry Jay won’t do it. She wouldn’t hold out… Not after all this.

  “Her husband, Angel Velasquez,” she begins, her voice weak. “He runs a multimillion-dollar gun trade operation from Miami to Mexico. She was threatening to expose him if he didn’t give her a divorce and a huge settlement.”

  Crow scribbles the details down in messy scrawl. “Got it. What about Bill Wheeler? That insurance guy from Indiana.”

  “The order came straight from the top of his company. He had a twenty-year track record of manipulating claims to screw his clients and move himself up the ladder. Started drinking and talking about it at conferences. A journalist overheard him at the bar and did some digging. Then his company got wind of it.”

  Crow smiles broadly. “Don’t tell me that was the chick from Chicago I took out right after.”

  “Justine Collins. You got to her right after she got the go-ahead from her editor to start writing the piece.”

  “Love it. How about Adriane Avitia?”

  She takes a deep breath like she’s bracing herself. “There’s a group…like a life coaching, motivational group. They recruit a lot of people from New York and LA. Adriane had been with them for a while. She inherited a lot of money, and they convinced her to bequeath it to the group in her will. They hired us to speed up the distribution, I guess.”

  He frowns. “Who’s they?”

  “It’s called the Masters Fellowship. Sam Burgess is the ringleader.”

  “Interesting. Anita Eschweiler. Revenge hit? She was hot.”

  Jay shakes her head. “A warning shot. Her uncle was poised to beat the sitting Chancellor in Germany’s last federal election. He wouldn’t back down. Wouldn’t take bribes.”

  Crow makes a sound and scribbles more onto his receipt.

  “Is that enough?” I say.

  “I guess it’s got to be. We don’t have a lot of time, do we? Too bad we wasted so much of it.” The look he shoots Jay is pure disdain. Then he shifts it to me. “So now what? You going to add her to your collection of people who should be dead?”

  I groan inwardly because I just wish he’d disappear. I can’t remember a time I’ve disliked him more. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know.”

  Jay starts to shake.

  Crow se
ems to notice and huffs out a weak laugh. “Let me know how it goes.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Isabel

  After several minutes of anxiously pacing the motel room, I decide to call my mother. As soon as she realizes my phone isn’t pinging my location anymore, she’ll worry.

  “Where are you?” My mother’s panicked voice cracks through the phone as soon as she picks up.

  “Mom, calm down.” I get up and start to pace again. “I’m fine.”

  “Calm down? You’re with a man who kills people for a living, and you’re asking me to calm down? I just buried you, Isabel. I endured a wake, a funeral, a burial, and a reception in my home with all of our friends and family. For days I’ve pretended in front of everyone that you were dead and being lowered into the ground. To pull that off, I had to make myself believe it, and then suddenly your phone is off and I can’t reach you.”

  The hysteria in her voice is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. “Mom, please. I’m sorry, okay? Please calm down. I promise you, I’m fine.”

  “Are you still in New York?”

  I sigh, embattled over this tug of war between her and Tristan that I don’t expect will ever go away. He craves anonymity, and she’s going to lose her mind if she doesn’t know where I am.

  “Not anymore,” I say. “We’re just outside Philadelphia.”

  “What are you doing there?”

  “I… We had to see someone. And then I think we’re heading to Florida.” I rub my forehead vigorously because I’m not sure how to explain all of this, but I’m not sure she’ll give me any choice.

  “What’s in Florida?”

  “There’s a woman Tristan’s been hired to take care of. Obviously he’s not going to do that, but we’re going to talk to her and see if we can maybe figure out who might want her dead.”

  I can only hear her breathing on the other end of the phone. Calming down, I hope, though this news could have the opposite effect.

  “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Isabel. Trust me, it almost cost me you.”

  “I know that. But it’s a game Tristan knows. This is his playground. His kind of people.”

  “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be along for the ride. I sent you to Martine’s to keep you safe. Not so you could throw yourself right back into danger with him.”

  I’m quiet a moment, contemplating what she’s done. Never mind these choices are mine now. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for her vengeance. If Tristan hadn’t left to begin with…

  “Did you know about Dad’s involvement in recruiting Tristan into the army?”

  She pauses. “What are you talking about?”

  “I found a letter that Dad wrote, recommending him for a Special Forces team.” I pause. “Did you know about it?”

  Silence stretches between us.

  The anger and resentment I felt the night I discovered the letter is compounded now. “I can’t believe it. All this time, you knew. You watched everything fall apart between us, and that was exactly what you wanted.” I bite my lip hard, consumed with disbelief, utterly betrayed.

  I hear her sigh through the phone.

  “Morgan came to me with the idea, and I’ll admit that I didn’t oppose it. We were worried about you, Isabel. We did it out of love. You were becoming inseparable. After his mother died, we barely saw you.”

  “He needed me!” I halt my pacing. “He was alone and we were in love, and you couldn’t even come to the service. You did nothing to support us, and all we wanted was to be together. Thanks to you, nothing’s changed except we’ve lost time we’ll never get back.”

  “You were meant for more than to be some boy’s emotional crutch at that age. He would have held you back terribly, and you would have grown to resent it in time. I didn’t want to see you go through that and miss out on opportunities you’d never have again. We did it for you. Don’t you see that? You mean everything to us. We’d give our lives for you.”

  “Yet Tristan and I are the ones who’ve given our lives because of the choices you made. You set us on this path, and now you’re going to have to deal with where it takes us. Don’t call me again.”

  I hang up and drop the phone on the bed. I’m tempted to turn it off. Sever the last lifeline she has to me as punishment for a betrayal so painful I can barely process it right now. But no matter how angry I am with her, I can’t stoop to her level. Maybe she and my father held no reservations about strategically cutting Tristan out of my life, but I can’t manage to cut her out of mine knowing the anguish it would give her.

  I stare at the phone, half expecting her to call back, when I hear shuffling outside. Then the rattle of keys, the twist of the knob, and a face I never thought I’d see again. I bring my hand to my mouth as Tristan guides the beaten woman through the doorway and shuts the door behind them.

  I look between them, grasping for an explanation. But no one says anything, and the longer I look at Jay, the more panicked I become. Tristan couldn’t have done this. It had to have been Crow. Why else would Tristan have brought her here?

  “Does she need a doctor?”

  I doubt it’s an option, but she looks like she’s ready to drop.

  “No. I’m fine,” she whispers, sounding anything but fine. “Just a shower would be nice, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.”

  I lead her to the dingy little bathroom and turn on the shower. When I face her again, her arms are wrapped tightly around herself like she might unravel if she lets go.

  “I can bring you something clean to wear.”

  “Thank you, Isabel.”

  The last time I heard her say my name in her office at Trinity House, things had been very different. I didn’t know then that Jude McKenna was the woman who pulled the strings and had managed Tristan’s life as an assassin for as long as he could remember. All I knew was that her presence was unsettling, bordering on frightening. But any power she held over me then has swiftly diminished.

  The woman before me is someone else. I feel for her, but knowing what she’s capable of, I’m afraid to give her all my compassion.

  She slowly begins to unbutton her soiled blouse with trembling fingers.

  “Do you need help?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  With that, I leave to give her privacy. I find a shirt and some pants in my bag and sneak them onto the bathroom counter for her once she’s hidden behind the shower curtain. When I return, Tristan’s sitting on one of the beds with his head in his hands.

  “What happened?”

  He lifts his gaze to mine, his mouth a rigid line. “I couldn’t leave her there. Not when I set this up. Part of it, anyway.”

  “They did all that to get her to talk to them?”

  He closes his eyes and scrapes his fingers along his scalp. “They did all that and more.”

  I frown. Then his meaning dawns on me. “They didn’t…”

  “They did. Well, one of them had his way with her, anyway. Don’t worry. I took care of him.”

  My eyes go wide. “Tristan.”

  He stands up abruptly and faces me. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want me to do, because I have no idea anymore. I used to trust my instincts, and now I don’t trust anything. I hate this woman.” He points to the bathroom where the sound of the shower spray goes on and on. “I hate her. I know you do too. But when I saw her there, tied up and ready to get sliced up by those idiots, all I could register was guilt and rage. And when I taught the guy who touched her a lesson, it felt like justice. So tell me, Isabel, what would you do if you were me? Should I have left her there for them to finish her off?”

  “I’m not saying that. I just…” I swallow over the uncomfortable thought of Tristan killing—for hire or for circumstance. None of it sits well with me. “It’s hard for me to think about you…ending someone’s life.”

  He paces back and forth. “He might be all right. I don’t know. I don’t have it in me to
care.”

  I try to push the disturbing thought away. More important things are at play. We have Jay, a dangerous but badly beaten woman on our hands. “What are we going to do now?”

  “We can’t stay here much longer,” Tristan says. “Between Crow and whoever from the Company knew about our meeting, there are too many people looking for us.”

  “Your meeting?”

  He walks away, pauses with his back to me. “Crow wanted me to lure her out. So when she sent the info on Aguilera that night, I asked for a meeting with her I never planned to take.”

  I set my jaw tightly. “And you never told me.”

  He turns back. “The look on your face when you saw Jay walk through the door is exactly why I didn’t. Because I knew things could get ugly, and if they did, you’re the last person I wanted to know about it. You don’t have the stomach for this kind of shit, Isabel.”

  I ball my fists, riled at his routine underestimation. Also because he’s right. “Apparently you don’t either since you couldn’t leave her there.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Should I have left her there to die? Should I have let the rest of Crow’s guys take their turn with her?”

  I wince, disgusted by the prospect of her enduring more than she already has. “I didn’t say that. But don’t act like I’m the only one who gives a shit. You obviously care about this woman.”

  “Then why did I give her to Crow if I care so fucking much?”

  I feel the uncertainty in the question despite the angry way he delivers it. Like he’s asking himself why the same way I am. Could he have predicted that Crow’s men would act like such animals with a defenseless woman? Did Tristan expect her to live through whatever interrogation they’d planned? I don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to. But I trust that when faced with the results, he got her away from there because he’s not the soulless person he believed himself to be for so long. And maybe even more because of the important place Jay held in his narrow existence.

  Just then the shower stops. A few tense minutes pass before Jay emerges in my black shirt and yoga pants, her hair wet, her skin pink where it’s not discolored everywhere else. Her feet are bare. Narrow and feminine. She crosses her arms around her slender torso again and looks between us.