Lily went back into her room and sat at the foot of her bed. Then she laid back, putting her hands behind her head. Thought about him holding her hand on the airplane. Thought about him taking her deal.
I am so very tired ...
She hadn't shut the door all the way and she heard it sweep open. There was a pause, then the door clicked shut. Soft footsteps approached the bed and she looked down the length of her body. Marc came to a stop in front of her knees, his arms folded across his chest. He'd put the sweatpants back on, but that was it. She turned her eyes back to the ceiling.
“I wrote you that letter for a reason,” he said in a low voice. She was surprised that he was bringing it up again. It was irrelevant now, they had their deal. Lines had been drawn, boundaries had been established.
“I know you did. It's okay. I understand. I'm not mad anymore,” she lied. He snorted.
“You're so mad you can't even think straight. I wrote it so you would stay away from this life,” he continued. “I'd hoped you were smart enough to heed my warnings.”
“Tough break, guess I wasn't that smart,” she sighed. Then the mattress beneath her dipped and sagged, and she glanced down to find him kneeling over her. She held very still while he crawled up the length of her body. Tried very hard to not remember the last time he'd been over her.
“I was worried about you,” he went on. “Worried about the bounty on you. I knew if I told you I was going to do this, you wouldn't let me go alone. I had to do this alone.”
“I don't care.”
“You care too much.”
“Not anymore.”
“Lily,” his voice was lower, and his face was right over her own, his hands on either side of her head. She looked away from him, at the wall opposite of them.
“I'm tired, De Sant. So tired. Just give me the information, and you can leave,” she breathed.
“I'm not leaving. You need my help.”
She actually laughed out loud at that.
“I've done much harder, much more dangerous things, on my own.”
“You weren't on your own, you had Kingsley.”
“And I'll have him this time.”
“And that's the other reason I can't go.”
Lily finally looked back at him. He wasn't looking into her eyes. His gaze was wandering over her features, then down her neck. At her chest, watching as she slowly breathed in and out. Then his eyes locked onto something, and his hand moved, his finger tracing a small scar that was peeking out from under the strap of her tank top.
“I haven't slept with him,” she confessed, though she wasn't sure why.
“Yet,” he added, his finger moving up and down.
“Never. I would never,” she added. He finally looked at her again, and his hand rested flat on the top of her chest.
“Why?” he asked. She propped herself up on her elbows, bringing her lips within centimeters of his own.
“Because there was one thing I actually learned from you,” she said, and almost smiled when he licked his lips.
“What?” his voice sounded hoarse and raspy.
“That no man is worth what I have to offer. Now get the fuck off me.”
Before he had a chance to comply, though, the door burst open. They both looked to the side and watched as Kingsley marched inside. He cocked up an eyebrow, then smirked before strolling up to the side of the bed.
“Well, well, that didn't take long,” he chuckled. Lily rolled her eyes.
“Shut up. Get off me,” she insisted again, shoving Marc in the shoulder. He backed away.
“Where have you been?” Marc asked.
“Mmmm, seems like I should ask you the same question,” Kingsley teased.
“Stop it,” Lily snapped. “Where were you? You were gone forever.”
“Right. I was outside having a ciggy break, when I noticed a car that had been there yesterday was still out there. Same spot,” he commented.
“So? A lot of people live in this building, it's not too unusual,” she pointed out.
“Ah. You would think. But this car is in a tow away zone. A resident would have had to move their car. This car not only spent the whole day and night there, but magically avoided getting a ticket or being towed. Curious, wouldn't you say? So I did some recon of my own. Two men, one wearing a bluetooth headset, both fastidiously watching the door. Ladies and gentlemen, we seem to have a tail,” he told them. Lily took a deep breath. She wasn't relishing this converation.
“Fuck. We've only been here for a night, and someone is on to us?” Marc sounded exasperated.
“Would seem so. I didn't let on that I was watching them, I figured it would be better to find out who sent them,” Kingsley added.
“I know who sent them.”
Both men turned on Lily, their faces full of shock.
“How!?” Kingsley exclaimed.
“Who!?” Marc snapped. She took another big breath.
“Damiano Ledo.”
Marc groaned and stomped over to the door. Kingsley went completely still, watching her very carefully. She stared back at him, trusting that he would hear her out. Marc, though, growled and stormed back up to her.
“Why the fuck does Damiano Ledo have men watching us? How does he even know we're here!?” he demanded.
“He knows because I told him.”
Again, more stomping, more cursing. But Kingsley maintained his cool the whole time.
“I would love to hear how that came about, darling,” he said, his voice low. A little ominous.
“I called him last night,” she started, then held up a hand before Marc could start bitching again. “You said it – he has no interest in us. He said it to me, that he's not part of Stankovski's issue with us. But he could help us. We have information that he would definitely be happy to hear. Kill Damiano's deal with Stankovski. At best, draw Stankovski out and gain an ally. At worst, still ruin his multi-million dollar deal and make it impossible for him to get back in the door in South America.”
“Such a stupid fucking idea,” Marc grumbled.
“Quite a dangerous plan there, darling. Could backfire quite spectacularly,” Kingsley pointed out. She nodded.
“I know. But I have a plan,” she started.
“Out of your mouth, those are the scariest words I've ever heard,” Marc interrupted. She glared at him.
“I'm going to meet with Damiano. Just me. You guys will take watch, have my back. If there's any animosity from him, I'm going to squash it. I'm going to tell him what Stankovski has planned for him,” she kept going.
“How do you know he'll believe you?”
“He can't afford to not at least investigate it.”
“This is fucked. Have you already forgotten that room? What he did to you? He enjoyed that, Lily. He liked hurting you.”
She took a deep breath.
“I know. He's sadistic and sick, but ... I think he was just doing a job, no different than us. Stankovski asked him to do something, so he did it. I really don't think he'll try anything now, if he's sees me coming with open arms.”
“This is stupid. I still think he's going to think you're lying.”
“If Kingsley found it all out so easily, then Damiano can verify it,” she pointed out.
“Hey! There was nothing easy about that! There were many, many hours of me pumping her for infomation.”
“God. Look. It's done. He knows we're here, obviously knows where we are, and he knows I want to talk to him about Stankovski. At four in the afternoon, I'm supposed to meet him at his house. That means by three, I want a set up with eyes on that house,” she stated.
“Look at you, talking like you know the lingo,” Marc snorted.
“That's because she does, you idiot. Alright, love, seeing as how you've given us absolutely no choice but to play along, sounds like a plan,” Kingsley sighed, climbing to his feet.
“I'm sorry,” she honestly felt bad. “I knew you wouldn't go for it, but I really think this could
help us, long term. I don't want to kill Stankovski, and then Damiano becomes a pain in my ass. I want it to be done. I made the call.”
“Your call involved us. Involved a team. You should've involved us. This isn't how this works, and you know it, Law,” Marc said in a steely voice. The men stared at each other for a second.
“Maybe not. But this is how we work,” Kingsley started in a slow voice, gesturing between himself and Lily. “I trust her. If she has a plan, then I know she can execute it. C'mon, we only have a couple hours to get you some gear.”
He walked out of the room, but Marc stayed behind. He glared at the door for a second, then turned to glare at Lily. She stared right back.
“This is dangerous,” he stated. Words from long ago ran through her mind.
“I'm a dangerous person, Marc,” she replied.
He turned and walked out of the room.
DAY TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN
Lily stood on a sidewalk, staring at a house that sat behind a large, wrought iron gate. Damiano's Miami home wasn't half as a palatial as his estate in Colombia, though it was nice. In a quiet, upper class neighborhood, just outside of the city. The owner was strolling down the walk towards the gate, his hands in his front pockets. She had expected a guard, or maybe even a maid. Not the drug lord, himself. He came to a stop and smiled at her.
“Ms. Lily, a pleasure,” he stated, his accent as syrupy and smooth as ever.
“I wish I could say the same,” she replied.
“How's the hand?”
She held up her bandaged fingers.
“Healing.”
“Good to hear. I'm going to open the gate, and then I'm going to frisk you,” he informed her. She nodded.
“Understandable.”
He let her inside and closed the gate again before moving in front of her. She rolled her eyes while his hands worked slowly down the sides of her body. This was apparently why he hadn't had a guard show her inside. When his hands moved to her inner thighs, dangerously close to her crotch, her earpiece started chipping.
“This is bullshit,” Marc's voice hissed.
“What would you do if a stunning redhead showed up on your doorstep, offering herself to you?” Kingsley's voice joined in.
“Stunning is going a bit far.”
“Careful, darling, your jealousy is showing.”
Lily gritted her teeth, resisting replying.
“Are you wearing a wire?” Damiano's voice was soft while his hands slid over her stomach.
“Of course I am,” she was honest. “Anything happens to me, and Stankovski will be the least of your problems.”
He stood up straight and stared at her as his hands groped her breasts. She smiled and stared right back while Marc let loose a whole litany of swear words in her ear. Damiano winked, then stepped away from her. His hands went back into his pockets.
“So you say. I was very surprised to get a call from you. I would've thought helping me would be very low on your list of things to do,” he pointed out.
“What can I say? One evening in your presence, and I was hooked,” she teased. He laughed.
“Not a surprise. Come, I have arranged for drinks in the courtyard.”
Inside his front door, the house opened up to an inner courtyard. Balconies skirted the upper floors, and it reminded Lily of Moroccan riads, which in turn reminded her of another time in her life. She shook her head and followed him to a white table that had been set up with crystal glasses and an assortment of finger foods. A butler of sorts lingered off to the side, holding a pitcher in his hands.
“Nice home, though not at all what I expected,” she told him as she took her seat. He smiled and sat next to her, at the only other seat.
“Thank you. And I must say, you are nothing like I expected.”
“I've been curious about that – how did you know who I was?” she asked.
“Ah. Weeks earlier, I had caught wind of a mercenary, sniffing around my backyard. The name Marcelle De Sant is not unknown to me, and when I mentioned it to a new friend of mine, a Mr. Anatoly Stankovski from Moscow, he had a lot to say about him. He also had a lot to say about De Sant's partner in Africa. A redheaded hellion who, along with De Sant, had stolen some of his property. He has quite a dossier on you, I hope you realize. I've seen many pictures of you. I was very glad when it turned out you were wearing a wig to my party,” he informed her.
“If I had known you were already so familiar with my looks, I wouldn't have bothered.”
“Well, this isn't a social call, is it? Let's get down to business,” he suggested, then snapped his fingers. The butler came forward and poured mimosas into their glasses.
“Okay, first off, you were right, your quarrel isn't with us. We weren't at that party for you. We were only interested in Stankovski. You ambushed us, you took us hostage, you broke my fingers. The only damage we caused was when we tried to escape. We didn't retaliate. We didn't even initiate. Agreed?” she asked. He took a sip of his drink.
“Well, you did cause A LOT of damage when you escaped.”
“We ran away. Your men were the one's blowing shit up with bazookas!”
“Semantics. And yes, you are correct. I apprehended you as a favor to Stankovski. Once you got away, I had no plans on pursuing you. In fact, I came to Miami to get away from you. I was very surprised when you said you were here.”
“I just want that to be established. If nothing else comes out of this meeting, at least we have a cease fire. A truce,” she finished.
He studied her for a long moment, and though she held herself completely still, exuded confidence and strength and imtimidation, she was nervous. Maybe she should've dressed up for him, done a seduction act. Maybe she shouldn't have been so candid.
“I don't know, darling, he is a bloodthirsty drug lord. You may have just encouraged him to prove that the only truces he has are the ones he creates.”
Kingsley was probably right. She knew she had a tendency to be forceful, and some men needed to be finessed.
“No. He'll respect that it was you who came to him. Me, he would've killed. Law, he wouldn't have bothered to meet. You, he hurt you. He tried to scare you. Yet you still called him and went there. Bold move. He'll see you as an equal. Good job, sweetheart.”
She wouldn't have thought Marc could say anything that would make her feel good about herself, but his words were like a shock to her confidence. If Marc thought it was good, thought it was bold, then it was the right choice.
“To a truce,” Damiano said, lifting his champagne glass to her. She smiled.
“See? I knew you couldn't be all bad,” she told him. He laughed.
“I'm liking you more and more already. Okay, Ms. Lily, you have escaped my clutches, forgiven me for for torturing you, came to my home, and you have informed me that we have a truce. What's next?” he asked.
“Anatoly Stankovski is planning on killing you and taking over your drug empire.”
Damiano completely froze. The butler had been refilling his glass, and hastily excused himself before hurrying away to the front of the house. Lily stayed calm and waited for Damiano to speak.
“That would be very difficult to do. Besides, even if he got to me, there are others set to take my place. My brother, Guillermo, runs all of my -” he began to argue. Lily leaned forward and pulled a slip of paper out of her back pocket, making a big show of unfolding it.
“Half brother. Guillermo 'Memo' Ledo. Four years older than you. Is responsible for every ounce of cocaine that runs through Central America. Has been on Anatoly Stankovski's payroll since two months before Stankovski made contact with you,” she prattled off, reading the notes Kingsley had made for her. Damiano frowned.
“Poor Memo. He never did like me. I can't say that I'll miss him,” he sighed. “But he's not the only one. I have others.”
“Most of which have already been bought, or have a very short time to live. This man is staging a coup, in your own backyard. I'm trying to stop
it from happening.”
“And why is that? I hurt you, you have no reason to do me any favors. Whether Stankovski kills me or not, it shouldn't matter to you. In fact, you could've said nothing, he would've killed me, and a truce wouldn't have been necessary,” Damiano pointed out.
“I know. There's my own battle with Stankovski. I would rather have you alive and an active enemy of his, then holding a grudge against me, or dead and of no use to me at all,” she explained.
“I get it now. This is not an altruistic visit, after all.”
“No. I may not be a murderer, but I'm still a mercenary. I don't do anything without some sort of payment.”
“So. Let me see if I have this figured out. You wanted to establish a truce with me, so you could warn me about Stankovski's alleged plot, so that when you deal with Stankovski on your own, you don't have to worry about having to deal with me afterwards,” he suggested.
“Correct.”
“But how do you know my word is good? I could tell you things are fine between us, then put a bounty on your head the minute you walk out the door,” he pointed out.
“Because. You're evil, and you're vile, and you do very bad things. But I don't think you're a liar. I think that's beneath you.”
Stroking his ego couldn't hurt, she figured.
“Very flattering. Alright, so we have a truce. I will have my men investigate your claims. If they are right, I will have Stankovski killed in such a way that his own mother won't be able to recognize him,” Damiano told her.
“Stankovski had his mother killed when he was twenty-five. And investigate? So you think I'm a liar?” she asked
“I think you are the type of person who would do a lot of things in order to get what she wants. Very admirable, but I didn't get to where I am today without being cautious and thorough. I also make it a habit to never trust anyone I just met. I will -”
Lily's untouched glass of mimosa suddenly shattered. They both looked down, and Damiano started to say something, but she didn't hear it. She reacted instantly, kicking the table and sending it crashing to its side. As gun shots rang out across the courtyard, she grabbed the front of Damiano's shirt and yanked him to the ground, forcing them both behind the meager cover the overturned table offered.
Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) Page 13