The Beautiful Thief (The Stolen Hearts #2)

by Mallory Crowe

  Despite what she’d just said about the cleansing effects of alcohol, when she wrapped her lips around the neck and took a drink, she couldn’t help but feel like something had passed between them. Adam reached for the bottle but she didn’t give it to him, instead setting it on the table and letting him get it himself. “So your deal. You tell me who Baldie is and if I take him out, then we’re done.”

  “Easy peasy.” He picked up the cigarette again and put it in his mouth, still not lighting it.

  “Okay. Tell me his name.”

  “Once I tell you, there’s no turning back.”

  “I crossed the no turning back point a long time ago. Don’t drag this out, Adam.”

  His head fell back and he looked back at the sky. “The man who shot your mother—the one you stabbed, by the way—is named Matt Forbes.”

  “Forbes, we have a problem.”

  Matt Forbes sat down in the plush leather seat of a brand-new limo. The wound in his gut still stung, but he was careful not to show any sign of pain. The man sitting across from him, Jonathan Sterling, didn’t respond well to weakness.

  “Point me in the direction and I’ll take care of it.” Matt knew that Sterling didn’t like his guys passive. He hadn’t crawled up the ranks by waiting for jobs to come his way. He’d even been the one who’d offered to get onto Stranger’s team to make sure nothing fishy was going down with the strangely rushed wedding. It would’ve earned him a spot forever at Sterling’s right hand if he’d been able to get the damn necklace back. Killing the Murray woman had been a small consolation.

  Sterling handed a folder to Matt and he flipped through, looking at all the grainy photos. After the events in San Francisco, Sterling was being especially cautious, which was why he was only meeting with him in the still moving car. Matt would think the man was paranoid if he didn’t know just what kind of enemies Sterling was dealing with.

  “When were these taken?”

  “Last week, at a party thrown for Jadon Belli. I thought you said she escaped on her own.”

  Sterling didn’t raise his voice, but the words were filled with reproach. “Smith never showed any indication of wavering.” From what he remembered about that night, Adam Smith had seemed as annoyed by the task of babysitting the woman as he had. But from the looks of the pictures in his hand, the Murray woman and Smith were still in contact.

  “After she scared off those men with a gun, they both went to a hotel room together and then slipped off the radar. I think you can understand why this isn’t acceptable.”

  “All right. Smith had a place out in the middle of nowhere in Louisiana. I can be on the next plane out.”

  Sterling scoffed. “Please. You’ve already proved yourself more than incapable. There’s good news, though.”

  Matt shifted uneasily in his seat. Sterling had killed men for a lot less than this. “What’s that?”

  “You killed Isobel Murray. So that means I don’t have to wait to see how you fuck up going after her daughter. If they were in Chicago looking for your breadcrumbs, maybe they’ll go back. Get an apartment in your name, spread the word, and sit tight and wait. They’re going to come to you.”

  Matt clenched his jaw and had to bite down the need to defend himself. This woman—named Melody, of all things—was the worst kind. She came off as innocent and helpless and the second you let your guard down, she’d literally stab you in the gut.

  But this time he’d be ready. And when she came at him, he wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

  Now she’d really know the meaning of the word helpless.

  Melody stared up at the ceiling. By this point, she’d memorized every single crack and spot above her. The bed was strangely comfortable. Worn-out for sure, but it was warm.

  She remembered staring at the ceiling in Whitney’s basement. Her weeks of wallowing in her own self-pity. It was nice to think that she wasn’t wallowing any longer. She had a name. She had a tenuous alliance with Adam. She had the beginning of a plan.

  That was, assuming Adam ever came back.

  After their short period bonding over the whiskey, he’d told her to take the bed. Of course she’d fought him, but then he said that if she didn’t take the bed, he’d carry her to the mattress himself, and she had a strong suspicion he wasn’t bluffing.

  So she’d gone along and taken the comfortable bed. She didn’t even know where Adam slept. She’d been too on edge to step out of the relative safety of the bedroom. The spots of sleep she’d gotten were interrupted at the crack of dawn when she’d heard movement in the galley. Then he’d knocked on the door and said he was going out to get some things together. He said he’d be back sometime in the afternoon, whenever that was.

  She’d already walked around the boat and raided the pantry for breakfast. Most of the provisions on the boat had an alcohol content higher than ten percent. But she’d found some crackers, and the water from the faucet tasted cool and clean. But there was no television, and her phone battery was critical because she didn’t bring a charger with her, so now here she was, back in the stranger’s bed.

  It smelled good. That was a strange thought to have, but she’d been bored out of her mind, so she’d been having strange thoughts. It smelled like soap and Adam. She hadn’t realized she knew what Adam smelled like until she had rested her head against the pillow. But considering his penchant for invading her personal space, she wasn’t surprised.

  Finally she heard commotion from outside and she sat up. Opening the door, she could see through the window over the sink that the skiff was tied up again, which meant Adam was back.

  Adam was just climbing onto the houseboat in one smooth motion that looked almost inhuman. She supposed he’d done it enough.

  When he came into the galley, Melody crossed her arms over her chest. “Are we leaving soon?” The evening had cooled off the boat considerably, but the temperature was already creeping up.

  “Soon. I have to pack things up.”

  She raised a brow and glanced around them at the boat. “Pack up what? You don’t own anything.”

  “I see you’ve been snooping.”

  “You abandoned me, Blondie.”

  He frowned. “What did you just call me?”

  She shifted her weight. “Well, I didn’t know your name until after you so graciously left me your fingerprints on the glass you used to drug me.”

  “And Blondie is what you chose?”

  She moved her hand in an up and down motion, gesturing to his face. “What should I have gone with?”

  “I don’t know. Something scary.”

  “Trust me, you’re scary enough.”

  They both went quiet at the reminder of what had happened. She hated to remember. No, remember wasn’t a good word. It wasn’t as though she ever really forgot. That event was burned into the periphery of her mind like a scar that would never fade. But sometimes it was closer to the surface.

  “Get in the skiff,” said Adam as he passed her to the stateroom. “I’ll be ready to go in ten.”

  Adam steered the boat toward Billy’s dock and Melody held onto the metal railing of the boat. She hadn’t sat down the entire ride. She seemed on edge and ready to jump ship any second, literally and metaphorically.

  Part of him still hoped she would change her mind. That she’d realize that this was a fight she shouldn’t be getting in the middle of and go back home, wherever that was. But if what she said about her mother was true, it made sense that she’d be set on this path.

  Normal people suffered tragedy and then moved on. When normal people became victims, they realized how unfair it was, but they didn’t fight it. They wallowed or acted out, but they didn’t pull out a gun and go after the attacker.

  But normal was a species he’d never really gotten along with anyway.

  “You’re going to leave your boat here?” asked Melody as the boat bumped against the dock.

  “Billy is going to see to my place while I’m gone. In return, he’s allowed to
use my shit.”

  “Best friends forever?” she asked skeptically.

  “Somethin’ like that.” Billy had been a part of his life as long as he could remember. Probably one of the only people from his childhood he was still in contact with. Billy had always been a few marbles short of being a father figure, but he’d been dependable, which was exactly what Adam had needed. Now that their roles were reversed, Adam tried to be there for Billy.

  Even if the son of a bitch had sold him out to Melody. Though when she climbed from the boat onto the dock and his eyes found their way to the curve of her ass as it pressed tightly against her cargo pants, he figured Billy thought he was doing Adam a favor.

  He powered down the motor and tucked the keys where Billy would know to find them.

  Melody twisted around on the dock. “Billy isn’t around?”

  “He’s hunting gators.”

  Her eyes widened. “As in killing them? Why?”

  He shook his head as he grabbed the duffel bag he’d loaded up and climbed onto the dock. “Never thought you’d feel bad for the gators.”

  “Well, they were here first.”

  The corner of his mouth hooked up. “Don’t worry. He’s not killin’ ’em. He’s hunting the eggs.”

  “But he’s not killing the eggs?”

  “They take ’em to the gator farms. After a few years, most of them end up in soups and souvenir shops, but seventeen percent are released back into the wild. More than would’ve lived naturally.”

  “And Billy just walks up to a nest and starts taking eggs?”

  “As long as mama isn’t around.”

  “And he does this for money?”

  “Money and fun.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t get you.”

  “That’s what makes me fun. Now where’s your car?”

  “My car? I thought we’d drive separately.”

  “So you can ditch me now that you have your archnemesis’s name? I don’t think so. I know you parked here, and Billy was nice enough to not borrow any of your shit.”

  “I’m overwhelmed with gratefulness,” she deadpanned.

  She started for the car, but then Adam remembered something and set a hand on her arm to stop her. “Your gun,” he said.

  “What about it?”

  “We’re flying out of here. Unless you’re flying with a legally registered weapon, I’d rather leave it with Billy.” She tightened her lips and he added, “Unless you’re still afraid of me.”

  She reached in her bag to pull out the body of the gun he’d left her with. “It would be stupid to not be afraid of you.”

  “God, you’re sexy when you say smart things like that.” Before she could react, he took the gun and walked up the dock toward Billy’s shack.

  As he left some of his valuables he needed Billy to keep a closer eye on and the gun, she took a close look at the place, even looking in one of the windows. “I can’t believe Billy lives out here.”

  “He doesn’t live here.”

  “What? But this is where everyone told me I could find him.”

  “It’s his land and where he always is. But he usually sleeps at my house.”

  “Your house?”

  “On land and everything.” He took a second to enjoy her shock. Though he probably lost some of his air of mystery now that she knew he hadn’t completely surrendered to the swamp yet. Even though he had a house, he didn’t like to stay there. Too many memories. Too many nightmares. Melody didn’t need to know that. “Let’s get going.”

  She followed him as he led the way to where she’d left the small rental car. “Going where exactly? I have contacts I can reach out to to find a location, but you seem to have an idea in mind already.”

  “I do. After Greg Stranger bailed on his entire life, Forbes offered me a chance to work for his people in Chicago. That’s how I ended up on Belli’s payroll. Even if Forbes isn’t in Chicago now, that’s his normal base of operations. It’s a good place to start.” He stopped at the driver’s side door and held out a hand.

  “It’s my car,” she said.

  “I can tell from a mile away that it’s a rental.”

  “A rental that only I’m allowed to drive.”

  “I know these roads better than you.”

  “That’s what my GPS is for.”

  “If you want to try to move me, feel free.”

  The keys flew at his face, and it was pure instinct that allowed him to snatch them before contact was made. He gave her a victorious smile as he unlocked the doors and popped the trunk. As soon as his stuff was secured, he adjusted the seat and the mirror and backed out and onto the road.

  Melody immediately plugged her phone into the car charger. “How long will it be before we get to the airport? I’ll book tickets to O’Hare.”

  “A few hours still. I need to see a guy before we leave.”

  “See a guy about a horse?”

  “Long story.” He debated telling her, but considering she was still on the fence about wanting him dead, he avoided making the mistake of thinking they were friendly.

  “When we stop, will there be a chance to change? I refuse to get on a plane in these things.”

  Adam glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Even if she had been in the outfit for over a day and probably slept without taking a thing off, she still looked good to him.

  But that was pretty much the norm. Every single thing she did looked damn right delectable to him. Well, except the way those fingers were moving over her phone. From this angle, he couldn’t tell what she was doing. Even though she said she was booking tickets, he knew that with that little device she could be doing almost anything.

  Suddenly the phone rang and Adam’s fingers tightened on the wheel as he waited to see what Melody was going to tell whoever was on the other line. Except she never answered, instead sliding her finger across the glass of the screen until the noise stopped.

  “Keeping me your dirty little secret?” He turned onto a back highway.

  “Just until I know how much you’re bullshitting me.”

  Interesting. He’d think she’d want backup while figuring out whether he was trustworthy, which he wasn’t. But Melody had already put her death wish front and center more than once. Her family should be grateful she was with him, but he doubted they’d see it that way. “Hard to keep on good terms with family when you do what you do.”

  That seemed to surprise her as she shifted in her seat to look at him. “We’re not on bad terms.”

  “The call you just ignored says otherwise.”

  “That’s.... Things are weird right now, that’s all.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  She was right about that. “Just making conversation.”

  Her fingers started to move over the screen once more and the miles passed in silence. Out of the blue, she said, “I tried being normal.”

  “I hear it’s harder than it looks.”

  “Not for everyone. Some people just wake up and know that they’re going to be paying taxes. They know that their cars are all legally registered and that there’s nothing in their house that could get them arrested.”

  “Those are the people I try to avoid.”

  “Maybe you’re smarter than me.”

  There were a lot of things she didn’t know. A lot of reasons he avoided the general public that would probably make her delicate, beautiful skin crawl.

  “Why work for someone like Stranger? Was he just the right amount of not normal for you?”

  There was a question he didn’t want to get into. So he gave the only answer he could. “I did it for the paycheck.”

  “You said money wasn’t important to you.”

  “Not important, but it’s nice.”

  “You can get casual money doing a thousand other things. Why make it kidnapping and killing for a dick like that?”

  “Angel, that’s the only kind of work there is
for a guy like me.”

  Before she could say anything else, he turned in to Carlo’s with a little more force than necessary, kicking up some gravel from the unpaved parking lot. It was still early so there weren’t many people there. Almost all of the cars were at least ten years old, so Melody’s rental stood out like a sore thumb, but he wasn’t planning to stay long enough to attract trouble.

  He was going to stay long enough to cause it, though.

  “What is this place?” she asked as he brought the car to a stop.

  “It’s a local hangout. I need to talk to someone real quick. Stay in the car.”

  She bent down to get a better look at the place. Carlo’s was nothing special, but it was in better shape than Billy’s shack. The stone exterior was painted a dark green that was so faded it seemed to blend in with the Spanish moss decorating the trees around the place. They were still a few miles away from the actual waters of the swamp, but it was still considered swamp land.

  Like most bars, there weren’t many windows. Instead, the walls were decorated with various signs of the liquor and beers available inside and a sign advertising fresh crawfish and alligator gumbo.

  “I’m going to use the bathroom.” She started to twist around in her seat to reach her duffel bag in the backseat.

  “Stay in the car,” he repeated. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He got out of the car, keeping the keys with him, while he went around the back. He’d been here enough times to know that the kitchen door was always unlocked. Even though the place was officially closed, Carlo’s was never truly closed. There would be a few of the regulars with nowhere better to be in the middle of the day, already drinking away their sorrows.

  But he wasn’t here for a drink.

  The kitchen was blistering as the pots of gumbo boiled away and the cooks were dumping fresh crawfish into a separate pot. He saw Jimmy right away. It was easy to spot the former good ole boy, even if he wore the white apron and backward baseball cap that all the cooks wore. “Hey, Jimmy,” he called.

  The guy hadn’t even completely turned around before Adam’s fist slammed into his face.