Settling Scores (Piper Anderson Series)

by Danielle Stewart

  Settling Scores

  Book Five of The Piper Anderson Series

  Danielle Stewart

  Copyright Page

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locals, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  An Original work of Danielle Stewart.

  Settling Scores Copyright 2014 by Danielle Stewart

  Cover Art by: Ginny Gallagher

  Website: Ginsbooknotes

  Books by Danielle Stewart

  Piper Anderson Series:

  Book 1: Chasing Justice

  Book 2: Cutting Ties

  Book 3: Changing Fate

  Book 4: Finding Freedom

  Book 5: Settling Scores

  Book 6: Battling Destiny

  Piper Anderson Extras:

  Choosing Christmas - Holiday Novella - Chris & Sydney's Story

  Betty's Journal - Bonus Material(suggested to be read after Book 4 to avoid spoilers)

  The Clover Series:

  Hearts of Clover - Novella & Book 2: (Half My Heart & Change My Heart)

  Book 3: All My Heart

  Book 4: Facing Home

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  Dedication

  To my Papa. Hearing the pride in his voice when he talks about my books literally keeps me writing some days. My Nana and Papa gave my sisters and me some of the best memories of our lives. They put extra magic in Christmas and summer felt longer when all of us gathered at the beach. I carry them with me today even though distance keeps us apart. I remember how they welcomed us into their family without a moments hesitation and when I write about unconditional love, thoughts of them are easily conjured up. Thank you Papa for not just being proud of me, but for making sure I never forget it. I can’t wait to make more memories on the Cape some day soon.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Books By Danielle Stewart

  Synopsis

  Willow has been saved from a painfully dark past and handed a bright future. By all accounts, she should be happy. But no one seems to understand that escaping evil hasn’t left her feeling free of it. The more people try to hold her close, the harder she fights to get away. Even the unconditional support from Edenville isn’t enough to help her keep her head above water.

  On a journey to settle scores and find answers to questions that haunt her memories, Willow hopes to mend her heart.

  Meanwhile, the man she has pushed away time and again fights to show her the only chance she has at happiness is opening her heart to the love that is right in front of her. But even Josh’s loyalty has its limits; how long before even he gives up on her, considering she’s already given up on herself?

  Prologue

  Everyone hates me. I’m not being melodramatic for effect. It’s a reality. I think the only thing worse than being hated is not being self-aware enough to realize it. I am aware. Dotted across the country like attractions on a road map, there are people who think I’m scum.

  If you went back to Block Island where my adoptive parents live, you’d see how the truth about my past spread like wildfire. I’d be willing to bet the money I stole from them, gossip is rolling its way over every sand dune and through every telephone line on the small and insulated island. My very respected parents are probably inundated with phone calls from people wondering why they would adopt a girl like me. A girl who spent the first part of her life in filth and chaos, marked to be sold into the abyss of trafficking by her biological parents. How could they make the conscious choice to allow someone like me into their lives, or onto their idyllic island? By now, they’ve heard my brother killed for me. I’m sure they’re afraid I am just as violent or damaged as he was.

  I don’t have to look far to find more people that despise me. Take the ferry ride and travel to New York City and there is another group who can’t stand me. The friends of my ex-boyfriend, Brad Angelo are all probably falling over each other as they talk about how awful I am. They, too, know my roots and in their circles that makes me unworthy. Brad likely returned from tormenting me and received a hero’s welcome from his buddies.

  Head down south to Edenville, North Carolina and I’m sure my name is synonymous with trouble. My crazy ex-boyfriend followed me into town just in time to ruin a wedding and slander me in front of everyone. I got painted a thief and a liar, and I’m too damn stubborn to stick around long enough to prove them wrong. In fact, I go with the philosophy that if they already think you are, you might as well be. I abandoned my brother as he transitioned out of jail. Worst of all, like an idiot, I fell for a guy I have absolutely no business being with, and then promptly stomped on his heart as I hightailed it out of town. Josh deserved better than that. Everyone there deserved better than I gave them.

  So yes, anywhere I’ve been, I won’t be going back. At least here in California I’m alone. It’s just me and what I’ve come out here to do. I’m no one’s victim. I’m no one’s charity case. For the first time, I’m not trying to be what I think people expect of me, or what they insist I should be. Out here, I’m just a girl on a mission, one I’ve nearly completed. I’m on the verge of doing exactly what I came out here to do. So why do I still feel like shit? Would everyone still hate me, if they knew how much I hate myself?

  Chapter One

  Willow pulled the black wig snug onto her head and shifted it slightly from side to side to make sure it was straight. She’d been wearing it for so long now that it was like second nature. There was something comforting about being in disguise. Hiding behind some heavy black eyeliner and covered in henna tattoos, she felt as though she were wearing armor. Slipping in and out of this fake identity had been necessary over the last few months, but she was starting to blur the lines between which personality felt more real to her. Was she Willow, the beat on confused mess who kept stepping in shit everywhere she went? Or could she be Claudia, the dark and desensitized runaway who’d partnered with a drug dealer to get revenge? Strangely, Claudia was becoming far more defined in her mind than Willow was.

  Claudia was one-dimensional, whereas Willow was complex. Willow had been a victim. She’d been a reluctant survivor. She’d be
en transformed into the child of a privileged and loving family. After high school, she felt suffocated and unworthy of them so she broke away from that bubble. Her hair streaked purple, piercings and music all became who Willow was. But none of it felt right. She was messy and undefined. And she was exhausted with herself, just like everyone else seemed to be.

  Willow slipped a black tank top over her head and pulled on her boots as she thought through the idea of becoming Claudia permanently. She took stock of how fleeing to Edenville on the heels of Brad’s attack was a necessity. She hated herself for running toward the shelter of her brother’s arms again, but she didn’t know what else to do. Even though she was tormented by the guilt and confusion of her brother killing for her, she also knew he was the only person who’d be willing to do anything to protect her, just as he always had. And though she hated herself for needing it, she loved him for providing it. In many ways, he’d saved her again, not just from Brad, but from herself. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be what Jedda wanted her to be. She couldn’t stop being angry at the world long enough to let him in.

  Leaving Edenville, Willow knew where she needed to go. California. She knew what she needed to do. Settle the score with Brad. It would be her way of standing on her own two feet and taking back her life. The problem was, she couldn’t do it. But Claudia could. The edgy, strong, indifferent character Willow had created in order to execute her plan was starting to look like a much more appealing personality than her own jumbled up mess. As she grabbed her guitar and headed down the four flights of stairs away from her apartment, she gave it thought. Maybe when all of this is done, when I’ve accomplished what I set out to do, I’ll just stay Claudia. Someone who knows who she is, knows what she wants and doesn’t need anyone else in her life. I can create her story, and in the process wash away my own.

  The thought of the past and the future faded away as she remembered how important the here and now was. The twelve-block walk to the bar was just enough time to get her head straight. The hard work had already been done. She’d taken all the risks, made all the connections. The dominos were set up. Tonight was just about tipping the first one over and watching Brad pay.

  She pulled open the old wood door of the dimly lit smoky bar and reminded herself how close she was to victory. She should be feeling good.

  “Claudia,” Marcario called and waved her over to his table in the corner. That was the only way you approached him, if he indicated you were welcome. Otherwise, if you tried walking up to his table without that small motion from him, you’d be tackled by two of his men. Over the last few months, she’d become part of his inner circle. Not the way she’d planned to but the end result was the same and that was what was important.

  “Hey Marcario,” she sang as she kissed his cheek and slipped into the chair across from him. “Everything on track?”

  “That’s all you ever care about isn’t it? You think about anything besides business?” he asked as he slid his large hand across the table and covered hers. She didn’t recoil or slap him away. Her hand wasn’t still tucked beneath his because she feared him, though he’d proven he was someone to be afraid of. It was the opposite of that really. She kept her hand there because she trusted him.

  She wasn’t intimidated by his appearance though intimidation was clearly the intention behind his muscular tattoo-laden arms. In fact there wasn’t an inch of his arms that wasn’t covered in swirling colorful ink. The weather out in California was always mild enough for him and his guys to wear plain white tank tops, hanging low over their too large blue pants. His shaved head and piercing black-brown eyes were dangerously attractive when paired with his devilishly sharp edged smile. Willow ignored all of it though because Marcario had done something to undermine his persona. He’d opened up to her and in doing so lost his ability to instill fear in her. He knew it and so did she.

  “We’ve been working on this for months and it’s going down today. Don’t you think we should be talking business?” she asked, giving him the flick of her eyes she knew he loved. He might be a tough man, but she’d certainly begun to crack his code.

  “I think we should be in my bed celebrating,” he smirked, and released her hand, both of them already knowing her answer to that proposition. “But since you always shoot me down I guess we’ll do it your way. I heard from my source this morning. Big Bo is delivering the package to your boy in a couple hours. Everything should go down from there.”

  “I can’t believe we pulled this off,” Willow stammered as the waitress dropped a familiar drink down in front of her. A tonic and lime. Willow wasn’t a good drinker, meaning it rarely ended well when she got drunk. Fights. Flings. Things went bad. And she didn’t think it would mix well with the dangers of the plan her and Marcario were working on. Having her wits about her would be key. It kept her from screwing up and likely from sleeping with Marcario.

  “You pulled this off,” Marcario stressed. “Everyone around here is scared shitless of me, but if they only knew what you are capable of, they’d be running for the hills.”

  Willow let out a breathy laugh as she took a sip of her drink. “I really appreciate how you helped me. I had no clue what I was doing when I got here. You could have killed me, left me under the Saint Charles Bridge and never looked back. You didn’t have any reason to trust me, much less help me.”

  “You’re cute,” Marcario hissed as he clinked his glass against Willow’s. “And I just kept thinking any little white girl who has the balls to meet with me in the middle of the night with a bag full of money pitching the plan you did, is dangerous. I rather have that on my side than come up against you.”

  “Please, I wasn’t brave. I was desperate. There’s a difference.”

  “True, but it worked. You were right. If I wanted to eliminate my competition and you wanted to eliminate your asshole ex-boyfriend then this was the way to do it. They’re both so damn greedy and arrogant. All we had to do was bring them together, mix in a little money and some drugs and boom, they walked right into the trap. I had my contact tip off the cops about the where and when it will go down,” Marcario whispered as he leaned in toward Willow. “They’ll pick them both up and it’ll be the last we hear from either of them for a long time.”

  “Perfect. It looks like we might actually get rid of both of them.” Willow sighed, forcing a smile that shouldn’t be so hard to find considering the good news.

  “And then what?” Marcario asked, raising a knowing eyebrow in Willow’s direction.

  “Then Brad gets exactly what he has coming to him and so does Big Bo. Neither one of them deserves to be walking the streets.” Willow averted her eyes as she remembered the story Marcario had told her one night about how Big Bo had beat his cousin Gabriella half to death. She knew in that moment that telling him what Brad had done to her would help her cause. It gave them a common purpose. It was the moment she realized she didn’t need to be afraid of him.

  “I don’t live by many rules in my life,” Marcario reflected. “I’d never been considered a saint by anyone’s standards, but men who put their hands on women don’t deserve to live, let alone walk free. If this hadn’t worked with Brad, I think I might have hunted the two of them down myself and taken care of them.” Marcario’s face fell stone serious and it acted as a reminder to Willow of who this man really was. His reputation was one of ruthless violence. His kindness toward her was a fluke, and she knew it was important to remember who she was dealing with.

  “Well it’s almost done now,” Willow shrugged as she sat back in her chair trying to seem calm and collected about the whole thing.

  “Go sing while we wait,” Marcario insisted. He was not shy when it came to getting what he wanted. The only exception was when he regularly professed his desire for Willow, well Claudia really, but they were halfhearted propositions. He wasn’t foolish enough to think she’d ever live in his world or crazy enough to believe she’d be what he wanted.

  But even if his attempts were hollow, one t
hing was genuine. His love of her voice. And she knew why. There were clearly dark moments of his life that were painted all over his body by way of scars. Slashes and jagged marks that told anyone who saw him, he’d been beaten. Ripped up knuckles that said he’d delivered beatings of his own. But her voice calmed him. In a way, it temporarily healed him and so she would get up on the small stage of the bar and sing. Even if no one else in the room cared to hear her, Marcario needed it, so she did.

  “Sure.” She smiled as she grabbed her guitar in one hand and rubbed his shoulder with the other as she passed. He was a sexy man, but she knew deep down as long as she was being smart nothing would ever happen between them. He’d become her partner, but it was a healthy respect for each other’s end game that kept this working. If she slept with him, there was a better chance that everything would fall apart.

  She made her way to the stage, pulled up the stool and began to strum her guitar. It always made her smile to see Marcario’s face when the first lyrics would escape her mouth. It was like an addict getting a taste of a sweet drug. He’d lounge back and nod his head to whichever beat she was strumming. For a few minutes, a very complicated man looked like he didn’t have a problem in the world. Knowing she was capable of giving him that small peace made her feel powerful.

  As the hours passed, Willow felt her nerves fracturing. She needed to hear that all the risk she’d taken, all the time she’d put in was not in vain. Then finally Marcario’s phone rang and he headed for the front door of the bar. Willow leaned her guitar against the wall and nervously followed him outside. She listened to a brief and coded conversation that took place between Marcario and whoever his contact on the other end of the line was. When he hung up, he tucked his phone in his pocket and nodded his head.