My stomach growled. We hadn’t really eaten much today. Okay, nothing. Before this, I hadn’t noticed, but I was hungry.
I tried to imagine Cade eating a big plate of carbs and cheese.
Yeah, not likely.
I tried the door to the pizza place.
It was locked.
Figured.
I started to walk around the building, stopping to look inside the windows of the restaurant. But no one was in there. I could see the booths against the wall, and I could see the tables in the middle of the room. One of them had a half-eaten pizza sitting on it, but there was no one eating the pizza.
I walked all the way to the back of the building. Back here, there was a gravel parking lot with four or five cars in it.
There were less windows back here, and the smell of the dumpster permeated the air.
But there was one window near the back door. I crept over to it and peered inside.
Almost immediately, I saw Cade. He was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, and there was a man circling him, talking. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but I was close enough to hear the pitch and rise of his voice. He sounded angry.
There were three other men in the room. One of them had gray hair. He sat opposite Cade, clutching an ornate cane.
The other two men flanked him. They were both wearing black sunglasses.
Cade was in trouble. My instincts had been right. I had to do something. I had to help.
I pulled back from the window. What the hell could I do? There were four men in there, and they all looked pretty tough, even the old guy. I had a gun, and it was loaded with… I looked at it. I didn’t even know how many bullets were in this thing. It wasn’t a revolver or anything, so I couldn’t open up the little spinning thing and check to see how many bullets were there. It had something else.
I thought Cade had called it a magazine.
Yeah, that sounded right. But I still didn’t know how many bullets were in the damned thing. I didn’t even know how to load it. Some shooting lesson that had been.
I messed around with the gun for several minutes, trying to figure out some way to see how many bullets were in the thing. I managed to slide the magazine out of the gun, but that didn’t really help, because all I could verify was that the thing was full of something. Judging from the size of the bullet, I counted how many I thought would fit in there. Twelve? Maybe thirteen?
I jammed the magazine back inside. Why was I bothering with this? I was simply wasting time.
Either I was going in there to help Cade or I wasn’t.
Well, it had to be. Cade didn’t have anyone else. It wasn’t as if I could call the police for help or something. I didn’t know anyone else who could help us out.
I rested my head against the building and tried to psych myself up for it. I could do this. I had to envision myself being successful, blowing all of the men away.
Oh, holy hell!
I was going to shoot people? I didn’t know if I could…
Mobsters, they’re mobsters, I told myself. I didn’t know that for sure, but I did know that they might hurt Cade, and I knew that I couldn’t let that happen. I had to save him.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself. It didn’t completely work, but it was better than nothing.
I went over to the back door and tried the knob. I was convinced that it was going to be locked for one second, and I didn’t know what I would do. I would have to shoot out the door or something, and that would be loud, and then the mobsters would all come for me, and I wouldn’t stand a chance, and Cade and I would both—
But the door opened.
I stepped inside a dimly lit hallway. The floor was a wide checkered tile, red and white. It was dirty. Above me, a light was yellow and buzzing slightly.
I swallowed.
And then I could hear Cade’s voice. He was only a room away. He didn’t sound the least bit upset about the fact he was tied up.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I was just here for a slice of pizza. I don’t know why it is you think anything otherwise,” he said. “I hear the anchovies are to die for here.”
“We know someone hired you. Who was it? Someone inside the family?” Another voice with an urban Italian accent.
I made my way down the hallway, trying not to make any noise.
“I like anchovies,” Cade continued. “A lot of people don’t, and I will admit that they’re a bit strongly flavored. But I like biting their little heads off. Do you think that makes me a bad person?”
“Who hired you?”
There was a noise, the thud of a fist hitting flesh.
Cade grunted. “Ouch. Now, was that really necessary? You know, there are these monks out there in India or China or something who don’t hurt any life at all? Not even insects. They wouldn’t bite off anchovy heads and they wouldn’t go around tying people up and hitting them.”
“You’re a funny man now, but I’m going to wipe that smile right off your face.”
Cade laughed. “Really? You know, I don’t think those monks would have liked that sort of talk either. Honestly, this is all a big misunderstanding. Maybe I could just get my pizza?”
Another thud.
Another grunt from Cade. “Okay, okay, no anchovies,” he said. “I’ll be happy to order whatever you recommend.”
I had reached the end of the hallway, and there was a doorway on my left. I looked around the edge of it, and saw the same scene I’d seen before.
I quickly darted back before anyone could see me. What now?
“Tell us who hired you,” said the accented voice.
“Stop, Ludo,” said another voice. This one sounded older. I would bet even money it was the guy with the cane. He was probably in charge. “I will speak to him. Alone.”
“But that’s crazy,” said Ludo. “Let me work him over a little more.”
“I, for one, like Rafael’s plan,” spoke up Cade.
The sound of a slap. “You don’t call him by his first name. Show some respect,” said Ludo.
“Oh, sorry,” said Cade. “How about The Hands, then? That’s what they called you back in the day, yeah? On account of the fact that you always killed with your hands. Liked to get up close and personal, didn’t you? Both of your girlfriends turned up strangled too, as an odd coincidence. But their killers are still at large, and I bet that just breaks you up inside. Doesn’t it, Raffy?”
“Shut up,” said Ludo.
“Stop.” And this time the old guy’s voice was sharper. “Everyone leave. I want to talk to him alone.”
A heavy sigh from Ludo. “All right. You’re the boss.”
I panicked. They were leaving. Were they going to come out this way?
I needed someplace to hide.
There was another door across the hallway. I dashed to it and threw it open.
Yuck. It was a very disgusting bathroom that didn’t seem to have been cleaned in years. But I shut the door after myself and waited.
Seconds passed.
Then minutes.
I didn’t hear anyone go by.
Carefully, I pushed open the door. I tiptoed back across the hallway to look back into the room. I could see Cade, who was facing the doorway, but I couldn’t see anyone else. The old man had been sitting facing Cade, meaning I wouldn’t be able to see him from the doorway, unless I came inside a little and turned…
I did it.
Yes, the man was the only man there.
Cade saw me. His eyes widened for a second.
“I’m waiting,” said the voice of the old man.
Cade recovered. “You think you’re just going to give me the evil eye and scare it out of me? See, if I had any say in the matter, I would get out of here. I would definitely leave.” He looked at me when he said those things, giving me the tiniest of head gestures toward the door.
“I think you and I can come to an arrangement,” said the man. “See, I know about you. I know who you are. You’ve made quite a
name for yourself, Ripper, and I know you’re a bit of a bleeding heart.”
Cade glared at me.
I wasn’t leaving.
The old man continued. “I won’t try to bribe you, and I won’t try to torture you. But I might make a phone call and have some of my men pick up a friend of yours.”
I took a deep breath. I wasn’t leaving, but I wasn’t sure if I was really brave enough to go after that old man. I had to do it, though, didn’t I? I had to move into the room, aim the gun, pull the trigger, and take the old man down.
“What are you talking about?” Cade gave his full attention to the old man.
“We know where Sable Clarke is,” said the old man.
I willed myself to move. But I didn’t.
Cade strained against the robes that held him, suddenly serious. “You don’t know shit about that. And if you touched her—”
“Maybe I make a call is all I’m saying. Or maybe you tell me what I want to know.”
“If you know where she is, then tell me where she is.” Cade raised his eyebrows.
“I might make a call—”
“You won’t tell me where she is, because you don’t know,” said Cade, settling back in his chair. “You don’t know anything. Sable’s safe, and you’re a liar.”
And that was the moment in which I decided to move. I hurled myself into the room, raising my gun at the same time. I gripped the handle with both hands, steadying it as I sought out the old man.
There. I saw him.
I thought of the target, picturing my bullet hitting home, and I pictured it this time as well. I pulled the trigger, staring right where I wanted the bullet to go.
The gun exploded, kicking back in my hands…
And caught the old man in the gut. He shrieked.
I ran for Cade and began to work at the ropes that held him to the chair.
“I tried to tell you to get out of here,” said Cade, looking furious.
“I’m saving your ass.”
“I don’t need saving,” he said.
“Oh yeah? What were you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t worked it out, but I would have figured something out.”
I had him free.
He stood up.
I glared at him. “Well, you’re welcome.”
He darted across the room to a chair, where his stuff was all in a pile. A money clip. A gun. A pocket knife. A tiny spray bottle. (I couldn’t figure what that was for.) He shoved them into his pockets, checked the gun to see if it was loaded, and turned to me. “Get out of here, now.”
Another door on the other side of the room opened and the three men from before came back in, guns blazing.
Bullets ripped into the walls, the floor.
I dove out into the hallway, landing on my stomach.
“I’m really never coming back here,” Cade was yelling over the noise of the gunfire. “I don’t know about the food, but the service leaves a lot to be desired.”
I raised my head and and crawled back to see what was going on in the room.
Cade was on the floor behind some of the chairs, pulling the trigger over and over again.
I couldn’t see the other men.
I wondered if I should go back in and help him.
And then…
It was quiet.
Cade got to his feet, brushing himself off. “Really should pay someone to tidy up in here. I can’t figure how this place passes health inspection. Oh, right. It’s a mafia front.”
There was a groan from the other side of the room.
I got up too, coming back into the room. The other three men were all lying dead on the floor, crowded inside the doorway.
The groan had come from the old man, who was bleeding in his chair.
Cade put his gun to the old man’s head. He pulled the trigger.
The man’s head jerked back. He was still.
Cade looked at me.
I swallowed.
“Give me your gun.”
I handed it to him.
He dug out the spray bottle and sprayed the gun down. Dropped it on the floor. Then he sprayed down his own. Dropped it as well. Went to the chair he’d been tied up in. Sprayed it. Sprayed the ropes. “Bleach water,” he said to me. “Bleach destroys DNA.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
He looked around. “Scene like this, place this dirty, they’re probably going to have trouble finding anything. Anyway, supposedly, this will look like a hit from inside the family.” He shrugged. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Cade
Fuck, she’d shot that guy.
It was all I could think as I drove. I kept gazing at her out of the corner of my eye, unsure of what to say to her.
She was sitting in the passenger’s seat, staring out the window. She wasn’t even looking at me.
She must hate me for putting her in this situation. She must be horrified, guilt-stricken. I wasn’t sure what taking a life would do to a normal person, to someone who wasn’t like me, who didn’t enjoy it. But I thought it would probably be pretty upsetting. I never wanted her to ever have to feel something like that.
I gripped the steering wheel. I needed to think of something to say to her, some way to make her feel better. And then I had to find someplace for her—someplace safe until I could figure out the shit with Ice.
Whatever stupid dream we’d been living in at my house, fucking like bunnies, that was all over now.
She’d never want to lay a finger on me again.
I swallowed. “Uh… how are you?”
She turned to look at me and her expression seemed calm, not tortured and upset. “I’m a little hungry.”
“That’s… that’s it?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Should I be feeling something else?”
I didn’t answer.
She tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear. “I mean, okay, I’m a little annoyed with you because you aren’t at all grateful to me for what I did. I saved your ass, and you’re too arrogant to even admit it.”
“What?” I looked from her to the road.
“I did save your ass. I wish you’d admit it.”
“Uh… yeah, I guess you did, love.” I smiled a little. “And, um, thank you.”
She beamed. “Well, you’re welcome.”
“You aren’t, uh… shooting that man back there didn’t upset you?”
“The guy who strangled his girlfriends and got away with it? Yeah, not so much.”
“Really?” Huh. I had thought that she would be really torn up over it.
“Should I be upset? Because you’re the one who actually killed him, anyway. I just wounded him.”
“That’s true.” I eyed her.
“What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“You think I should feel guilty or something? Do you feel guilty?”
“Well, no, but I’m not like other people. I mean, there’s something wrong with me and all. They say that people who work on death row, who have to administer the lethal injection and stuff, that they get bothered about it over time, even though they’re executing convicted killers. So, I just thought…” I didn’t know how to finish.
“Well, I mean, I haven’t really thought about it yet. It all happened so fast.”
“No,” I said. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t think about it.”
“Okay.” She shrugged.
We were quiet.
“You said you were hungry?” I said.
“Yeah. Starving.”
“Me too. Let’s hit up a drive-through or something.”
“Drive-through?” She raised her eyebrows. “You eat fast food?”
I laughed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cade
When we got back to headquarters, I knew something was wrong the minute we stepped off the elevator. All the lights were off, and we never turned the lights off down here. The place was never closed, because anyone m
ight need its resources at any hour of the night or day.
My body suddenly went on high alert, and I was aware of everything.
I put my hand out to stop Shell from going anywhere.
“What?” she said.
I put my finger to my lips. “Get behind me,” I whispered. I was glad we’d stopped to eat, even if it had been junk. Actually, all the calories were a good thing. I was going to need them for whatever was in store in here.
It had to be Ice. He’d gotten in somehow. Probably, he’d just waited until he’d seen someone he knew, grabbed them, held them at gunpoint, and then forced them to enter the codes for him.
That was it. We needed to move. Damn it. Setting this place up hadn’t been cheap or easy, but it was obviously compromised, and that wasn’t good news for anyone. I’d give orders to have it dismantled, starting tonight.
My foot collided with something in the darkness.
Slowly, I bent down to check what it was. “Fuck,” I muttered. It was a body. One of the best guys in here, too. Blackie. He’d been shot in the head.
Suddenly, I was very glad that I hadn’t left Shell in here with him for protection. It obviously wouldn’t have worked.
And then I had a terrible thought. Kiera.
Her desk was this way…
I hurried over, bringing Shell behind me.
But there was no one there.
“What’s going on?” Shell asked in a soft voice.
I shook my head at her. There was enough light from scattered computer monitors that we could barely make out each other’s features. “It’s got to be Ice.”
She bit down on her lip. “I don’t have a gun anymore.”
“Come on,” I said, pulling her after me. We darted out of the main room and into a hallway. I led us down it, to the main weapons room. Once inside, I flipped on the light switch.
I handed her one of the guns, and then I started back for the door. “I need you to stay here. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone except me. You got it?”
“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” she said.
“I don’t know what’s out there,” I said. “I might not be able to protect you. I won’t be gone long.”
She still didn’t look convinced.
“You have a gun,” I said.
She nodded.
Ripped Page 17