Knave (Masters of Manhattan)

by Jane Henry

  Fuck. I looked around the living room and found Posey’s owner. I thrust the dog into her arms without a word, grabbed the tray I’d left nearby, and headed for the kitchen.

  “No shit, the answer’s no,” Bianchi confirmed. “We need to get the backup from her. Or else make sure she’s neutralized, so she can’t act on it even if she has it.”

  “N-neutralized?”

  “Killed, Robby. Jesus Christ. I’d worry you were wearing a wire if I thought you were capable of the level of intelligence that would require.”

  “B-but what if Pederson has it after all?” Fletcher stammered. “We’d have killed her for nothing.”

  “You leave Pederson to me,” Bianchi said. “Didn’t I tell you I’d clear the way for you and Emma?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But nothing,” Bianchi interrupted. “The Fowler bitch’s death won’t blow back on you, and I’ll get Pederson out of the picture, too. But we need to find Sabrina Fowler. Tonight.”

  I prayed silently, as I stalked through the house, that Fletcher’s reluctance would hold out. But my prayer was in vain.

  “Well, actually, ah… She’s in my kitchen,” Fletcher whispered. “S-she’s catering the party tonight.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Bianchi demanded. “You’re like one of those savants, Fletcher, I swear to God. You manage to get shit done through some combination of luck and idiocy.” He sounded admiring. “You burn this shit now,” he instructed, and we could all hear the crumpling of paper over the line. “I’ll have my guys take care of Miss Fowler.”

  “Yeah,” Fletcher said sadly. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Anson, you get those papers,” Xavier instructed. “Caelan and Ethan will get Sabrina out.”

  I shook my head, though he was nowhere nearby to see it. “Negative. I’m heading to the kitchen,” I said sharply.

  “Anson, he’s about to burn the evidence that connects Bianchi to your mother’s murder and we don’t have a backup!” Walker said urgently. “Stick to the plan, dude. That’s your M.O., right? Stick to the plan.”

  My only reply was a low growl.

  “Jesus, status,” Xavier said.

  “Kitchen,” I repeated. “Fuck the evidence.” And I meant it. At that moment, I had the choice to get vengeance for my mom, the woman who’d defined my entire past for better or worse, or to save Sabrina… the woman I was pretty sure would define my future.

  There was no real choice there.

  “Hello! Fully functional human speaking!” Sabrina interjected. “Calm your testosterone, boys. I can get myself out if it comes to… Oh!” Sabrina’s squeak of surprise made my blood run cold.

  “Uh, I think you must be lost,” Sabrina said, strain in her voice. “The kitchen is off-limits to guests.”

  Jesus. I broke into a trot, pushing people out of my way.

  “Caelan, tell me you’re hearing this,” I said out loud. “Tell me you’re handling this now!” There was no reply.

  I burst into the kitchen to find two men dressed in black bearing down on Sabrina, one of them holding a gun. The other waitstaff were cowering off to one side of the room, near a third man in black who blocked the exit to the rear door.

  I didn’t slow down, didn’t stop to consider my actions. I ran up behind the closest guy and cracked my heavy serving tray over his head with a clatter that sounded like the ringing of a gong. He crumpled to the ground, and I turned to the second guy.

  “Yo, asshole,” I said. I used the tray like a club, knocking the gun out of his hand. It slid across the floor away from everyone else. “Sabrina, run!”

  And obediently, she ran behind me, eluding the third guy by inches. I saw that she had a huge butcher’s knife in her hand, and my heart skipped a beat. She wouldn’t have gone quietly, not that I’d expected anything different.

  “Get out!” I told the other waitstaff, and one of the guys threw open the back door, just in time for Caelan to burst inside. He headed for the second guy, who was making a dash for his gun, and caught him with a roundhouse kick to the chest. The guy went sprawling on the floor, knocked out as cleanly as his compatriot.

  I stepped between Sabrina and the third guy, who had at least three inches and fifty pounds on me, and hit him in the jaw with the full strength of my arm, but the guy didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he took a pistol from his pocket and fired it at the ceiling.

  “Nobody move!” he demanded. “Miss Fowler, come here.”

  “Not happening,” Sabrina said. From the other room, I could hear the partygoers squealing. “Was that a gunshot? Oh my God! Where did it come from? We need to get out!”

  The guy leveled his gun on me and gave Caelan a wary look. “You stay back,” he told Caelan.

  Caelan held his two hands up. “I’m cool. Listen, you don’t want to do this,” he said.

  “Jesus, do not negotiate with him,” I hissed. “Just kick his ass.”

  “Not sporting, Saint,” Caelan said reproachfully. “See, I know some things that he doesn’t know.”

  “Fuck you,” the guy said. “Miss Fowler, now. Or I’ll kill this guy, I swear I will.”

  Caelan made a tsk-ing noise, like he was disappointed, then he sighed. “Well, you’ve left me no choice.”

  The gunman’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “You really think you’re gonna take me, He-Man? Pretty sure you won’t deflect bullets.”

  “Definitely not,” Caelan agreed. “But I won’t need to. Ethan?”

  I turned my head slightly and saw Ethan step through the outside door, brandishing a revolver. He cocked, pointed, and shot without preamble, and the gunman went down, a splotch of red blossoming across the bicep of his gun-arm. His gun clattered to the floor, and Caelan darted forward to snag it. The injured man groaned.

  I turned to look at Ethan in shock. “Did I never mention that I was a marksman in high school?” he asked with a shrug.

  “You coulda told him to drop it,” Caelan chided.

  Ethan raised an eyebrow at him. “You gave him a chance, Caelan. This guy’s dumb and loyal. He woulda taken one of us out before we could get him. Gotta take the element of surprise when you can.”

  I turned toward Sabrina, who was watching the whole thing with wide eyes, and no wonder. My own heart was still pounding a mile a minute. She had to be petrified. “It’s okay,” I crooned, wrapping my arms around her. “I’ve got you. You’re fine, baby.”

  She pulled in a deep, shuddering breath through her nose, but when I expected her to relax against me as she so often had, she startled me by bracing her hands on my chest and pushing me away.

  “I am not fine,” she protested. “Because we don’t have what we needed!”

  “Are you… What?” I asked in confusion. “Sabrina, I saved you!” I didn’t think I had to fucking remind her of the events of the last few minutes, but clearly the woman was in shock.

  “And if you hadn’t, if you’d waited a goddamn minute and stuck to the plan, Caelan and Ethan could’ve saved me, or let me save myself!” She threw her hands up in the air, her eyes flashing and chest heaving. “Now what the hell are we going to do?” she demanded. The waitstaff around us fled, and I knew our time was limited.

  I looked to Caelan for help, but he very carefully looked away. Ethan shrugged. “Let’s get out of here before the cops get called,” he told her. “We can talk about all of that at back at the penthouse.”

  “I’m out the front door,” Xavier said. “Taking my car to the penthouse.”

  “Ethan and I are heading out the back to join Walker in the van,” Caelan said. “Sabrina?”

  Sabrina flounced past me, chin in the air, and let Caelan guide her out the back door.

  What the actual fuck was happening here?

  Ethan left at a trot, and I followed. Ethan turned to me. “Weren’t you the one talking about keeping to the plan the other day?” he demanded.

  “But she was in danger.” I ran a hand through my hair, not wanting to talk about
this. We needed to get the fuck out of there. I hadn’t forgotten how close I’d come to losing Sabrina.

  “And we could have taken care of it. We could have,” Ethan insisted, when I tried to protest.

  “But I couldn’t not come and help her. She was… is… my priority.” I sounded confused because I was. The words were coming out of my mouth before I’d even had a chance to process them, but they had the ring of truth nonetheless. Sabrina was my priority now.

  Ethan shook his head and smiled sadly as we reached the van. “Dude, I get it. Probably better than you do.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Get into the van,” he said. “I cannot wait for the debrief on this one. But maybe we’ll leave that for tomorrow, huh?” He snickered. “I think your woman wants to have a little debrief of her own first.”

  Ten

  I snatched the ice pack from Anson’s hand and shoved it up against my wrist without so much as a word to him. I’d banged it against the counter, barely bruised it, but Caelan and Anson were so insistent I ice it I didn’t even bother to protest when Caelan had grabbed it from the first aid kit. I was too pissed anyway.

  “This is becoming all too familiar,” I snapped at Anson. “You doing stupid ass shit and me getting hurt in the process. Thanks.”

  We were in the back of Caelan’s van like hippies on their way to a concert, every jiggle and bump making my stomach lurch. This van was way the hell tricked out with all sorts of surveillance stuff I couldn’t even wrap my brain around, but one thing it did not have was comfortable seats. Clearly, Caelan did his work standing, and didn’t often entertain guests in his office-on-wheels.

  We were alone in the back, Anson and I. Xavier had offered to escort some woman home from Fletcher’s house and would drive himself home after that. Caelan was up front, driving the van, with Ethan riding shotgun, and we had dropped Walker off just before we entered the city, so he could see about procuring some new communications equipment since whatever we’d used tonight hadn’t worked well enough for him. At any other time, I might have been glad for the privacy, but not tonight. Not like this.

  I couldn’t look at Anson, because if I did, I’d cry. I wanted to hurt him, slap his beautiful face and scratch my nails on his skin, make him bleed. Because of some fucking heroic moves on his part, the evidence that would’ve tied Robby Fletcher to my father and to Anson’s mother was gone. Destroyed. And I had no idea how the fuck we’d recover from this. I shook, I was so mad at him.

  I didn’t want Anson to touch me. His jaw clenched, and he sat in the corner of the van staring off into space. He didn’t respond to me, and it pissed me off that he didn’t. I wanted a reaction. What I couldn’t stand was his silence.

  Some dim part of my brain reminded me he’d sacrificed shit too, but I was too angry to think beyond my own fury at him. With a lurch, the van came to a halt. I heard Caelan open his door, then the click of a latch indicated he was coming to us. I pushed myself to my knees, ready to exit, but Anson moved faster. Still not looking at me, he scrambled to the door, shoved it open before Caelan could, and took me by the arm. I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t. Caelan stood outside and watched with wide eyes.

  “You guys alright?” he asked, his eyes filled with as much concern for Anson as they were for me.

  “Fine,” I bit out, trying to pull my arm out of Anson’s death-like grip, but I couldn’t.

  “Thanks, man,” Anson said with more grace than I’d been able to muster. “Gonna get her upstairs and make sure she’s alright, then get a good night’s sleep.”

  Caelan looked from me to Anson with a depth of understanding even I couldn’t comprehend.

  “Right,” he said. “You take her up. I’m staying here for now. Ethan and I are gonna go over this footage, and make sure we didn’t miss anything. We’ll be a while,” he said, and I suspected he did this for us. To give us space. “You two gonna be alright without me?”

  “Yeah,” Anson said. I stood next to him and looked up at Caelan’s concerned eyes. With one firm tug, I pulled my elbow out of Anson’s grip, leaned over to Caelan, and put my arms around his neck, squeezing him in a chaste but meaningful hug. This guy was like the brother I’d never had, and I needed that right now, especially when Anson was on my shitlist at the moment. Caelan hugged me back, I kissed his cheek, and then he released me. Anson’s jaw was so tight I could almost hear the snap of his teeth clashing, which gave me grim, melancholy satisfaction.

  I shivered despite the humid air, and Caelan gave me a worried look. I sensed that it cost him something to keep quiet and not do his protective-big-brother routine, but he was leaving me for Anson to take care of.

  Just great.

  “See you in a few, Caelan,” I said, overly cheerful, giving him the full dazzle of my smile, hoping to piss Anson off. Anson reached for my hand, but I yanked it away. I waited for him to insist, to grab my hand back or do anything. I needed him to somehow respond to the desperate anger that teemed through me.

  We made our way to the penthouse in furious silence, though his was more removed than mine. My anger sparkled like fireworks and his simmered like lava beneath the surface of a volcano. I could barely take in the details of the elaborate home we entered. I usually noticed the recessed lighting, vaulted ceilings, authentic art pieces, and the smell of coffee and vanilla, but not tonight.

  Anson’s jaw was tight, and he didn’t make eye contact with me. He snapped his fingers at me to stay in the entryway door, the sharp, sudden crack making me jump.

  “Do not move,” he ordered. My jaw dropped. Was I a fucking dog? I opened my mouth to protest but he was already gone, after quickly scanning the entrance. He moved like a tiger on the prowl, noiselessly, his eyes taking in every detail. I heard the sound of the rungs of the shower curtain in the hall bathroom being whisked back, doors being opened, and even the click of something—surveillance cameras?—being checked in Walker’s lair. Yeah, maybe it was sorta sweet he was making sure we were safe before we entered, but I was too pissed to respond to this. A few minutes later, he came back to me, still not looking at me. He ran a hand across his forehead and uttered a tired, “Get to bed. You take my bed, I’m in the guest room.”

  And without looking at me again, he left.

  He was gone. Just fucking walked away.

  My stomach dropped to my toes and sadness welled in my belly. My heart hurt. It literally hurt, and I could almost hear the audible snap of my resolve at the sound of his retreating footsteps, like the chiming gong of a church bell. Deep. Reverberating. Ominous.

  “Just fucking go to bed?” I said, pursuing hot on his heels. “That’s it? You just fucked up every chance we had of getting evidence that would vindicate my father, in some dumbass move because you have a motherfucking hero complex, but you just want me to go brush my teeth and get some sleep?”

  He froze in place, not turning to look at me, an uncharacteristic slouch of his shoulders giving me the sudden desire to weep. Who was I? Where was I? What was I trying to accomplish?

  He turned halfway to me, his eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, but when he spoke his voice was tight with barely-controlled anger. “Go. To. Fucking. Bed.”

  I stared at him, knowing that the last thing I was going to do was what he told me to, but I couldn’t react. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do, I just stood there dumbly, refusing to move. Seconds passed, and I heard the ticking of a clock on the mantle, the whir of the ice machine in the fridge.

  “No,” I finally whispered, my voice shaking with rage. “I will not fucking go to bed. You just lost everything. You gave up everything for what? For me? For some quick lay? I don’t mean anything to you. I’m just another one of your possessions. Something else you’ll steal because you’re the thief, the one who gets off on making someone else’s possessions yours. That doesn’t mean anything.” I shook my head. “I’m just another trophy for your mantle.” His eyes came to me, then, pools of anger and heat, simmering. “Well, you got it, Ans
on. You made me your prize. You threw away everything to prove that tonight.” He winced, and I almost stopped, but I couldn’t. “I’m not going to bed. I’m getting my shit, and I’m leaving. There’s nothing left for me here. Robby Fletcher and that Bianchi guy thought I had the thumb drive with the evidence? I’m going to find it.”

  And I turned back around, heading for the door, not knowing where I’d go or what I’d do, but knowing I couldn’t be near him, I couldn’t be in this penthouse for another second, when I heard him move behind me. My movements became frantic, because this door was sealed like a fucking vault at Gringott’s, and in a seriously dumbass move, I’d given him my parting words without actually having a clue how to unlatch it. I fumbled with the locks and stared at the security system, my hands shaking, when he reached me, fingers clasping over my wrist.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “The fuck I’m not,” I growled, shoving him off me. “Caelan!” I screeched, a desperate move to get out of here, but I didn’t get another word out, as Anson spun me around, shoved me back, my head hitting the door with a thud, and his mouth silenced mine in a ruthless, vicious kiss I felt resonate to my nether regions. Fuck, this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. No, not now, not when I wanted to hurt him.

  I tried to shove him off me, but his hands were at my waist, pulling me to him with a firm tug I couldn’t resist. He was so much stronger than I was. His mouth moved against mine with a passion that belied his earlier distance, a desperate clashing of teeth and lips and tongues that mourned our shared losses, our mutual anger joined in need for one another, a kiss that tore down my defiance, melting everything in me. Salty tears mingled with our kiss and I didn’t know if they were mine or his. He moaned into my mouth and I sobbed into his, then his hands were at my waist and he hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around him, still so angry, I decided on a rash whim I’d punish him with sex. What the fuck that even meant, I didn’t know, but I was leaving, and I’d leave him with the memory of the best fucking lay he’d ever had.