The Count

by corwin, monica

  I held up my hand. “No. Let’s save us both some time. There are a few facts to get straight and I need your help.”

  “Of course, Mr. Lord. For one of our best donors, anything.” He spoke as if he weren’t wearing plastic shorts, a lace robe, and a gun holster against his rib cage. The consummate business man.

  “First. My name isn’t Wilmore Lord. My name is Edmond Dantes.”

  The act slid off his features like rain on a windshield. “Wh—.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get to that.”

  He didn’t let me keep speaking. Instead, he crossed the room and sat next to me on the couch. As a cautious man, I tended to keep distance between me and anyone who wanted to crush my skull with their bare hands. To each their own, I guess.

  “Eddy,” he whispered, and reached out for my face.

  I leaned away and pushed his hands back. No doubt the disgust was written for her to see.

  He sagged back and I said, “no. This look,” I circled my face with my finger. “Has nothing to do with your obvious sexual preferences. This look is because you are a bastard piece of shit who should be dismembered and fed to ravenous lions.”

  He blinked a few times and studied me. “I don’t know what is going on.”

  “I want to know why you told Mercedes I was dead.”

  That hit the mark. He jerked back and then immediately started to unravel. “Look…I…you know…”

  “Stop. Answer the question, or things will get messy here.”

  When he sagged back into the couch I knew I had him. “You have to understand I loved you.” He sat up. “Love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  “Bullshit. You might have loved me then. Fine. But I don’t buy for a second you love me now. You don’t know anything about me.” Despite my attempts not to, I slid down the couch away from the cloying scent of his floral perfume.

  “I’m sorry. It was jealously. I knew you two loved each other. You always had. And then you were out of her life and I saw my shot.”

  I exploded and flipped the table in front of me. It went flying across the room. “You selfish bastard. It wasn’t enough that you helped put me in jail, you had to make sure life there would be as miserable as possible.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I unhooked the top few buttons on my dress shirt and doubled over trying to drag clean oxygen into my lungs. But all I smelled was him and his poison. When I turned back his hand had been inching for his gun.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  He dropped it, and I sat back down.

  “There is more. Your buying and selling of women has been exposed. You’re going to jail for a very very long time. So, prepare for that. I’m going to be standing, waiting, and watching them take you away. Your little ass is going to be so popular in the shower.”

  Fear finally spiked in his eyes and he stared down at his hands utter disbelief. I took joy in seeing the hope flea his body. It never belonged there. In the end, if the law wasn’t going to get him, I would.

  “You disgust me,” I said. I stood up and grabbed my clothing, not bothering to put them on. “And don’t worry you won’t be going alone. Soon I’m going to take care of your friends too.”

  “Friends?” he asked numbly.

  The sound of sirens faintly echoed in the room.

  “Villefort. Danglars. They’ll be joining you in prison soon. And I promise to send some of my friends to give you a warm welcome.”

  He snatched his gun out of the holster before I could react this time. Instead of pointing it at me, he pressed the muzzle to the side of his forehead.

  “The whole damn lot of you Mondegos are so dramatic. If you want to do it properly you should put it in your mouth.”

  He didn’t move though. The sirens inched closer, growing louder.

  “I did love you.” He whispered. But you should know. We weren’t the only ones who sent you to prison.”

  His lips twisted into a wicked little smile before he pulled the trigger.

  I exited out the back and ran through a flat field to get out of the police line of sight. They wouldn’t be able to place me there, but I couldn’t take any risks this far into the plan.

  Except now, everything needed reformulated. Another participant in my downfall. How had I not known about that? And of course, the man would take it to his grave. The selfish asshole.

  I didn’t mourn his loss. And I knew, despite being family, Mercedes wouldn’t miss him either.

  As I made it to a cross street a mile away, I texted my drive to pick me up. Maybe Mercedes knew who this other man was. Or one of the others. I’d hoped to handle the other two from afar. I only wanted to confront Fernand because of what Mercy told me.

  I didn’t regret telling him the truth, but I resented this empty guilty built up in my belly. It wasn’t for him, but the number of dead by my hand. Another added to their ranks, even if I hadn’t pulled the trigger.

  We got back to the apartment and I prayed Mercy was already asleep. I couldn’t face her this way. My emotions in chaos, my body following suit. But I’d never been lucky and she sat on the couch in the sitting room and watched my trek from the elevator to her side.

  “Tough night?” She asked.

  “You could say that. Your cousin is dead by the way. He shot himself.”

  She scanned me, weighed me, and decided I didn’t lie in two seconds flat. “Good riddance. He was a disgusting man.”

  I threw myself down, and the scent of him wafted off my clothes. “I need a shower.”

  She followed me in and I raised an eyebrow at her inspection of my undressing. Her smile told me she wasn’t about to leave so I finished shedding clothes, and let her watch as I stepped under the spray. “You could join me.”

  “The view is better from out here.”

  I arched my back and scrubbed my hands through my hair, wetting it all in one swipe. “But you could touch me in here.”

  I caught a giggle before I could open my eyes.

  “Oh. Is that something you want?” I shook my head at her goading and finished washing quickly.

  She didn’t escape though. I grabbed her around the waist and carried her to the bed. “You’re wet,” she complained.

  I dragged my teeth down her neck, bunched her shirt up over her chest, and continued my exploration to her breasts. She moaned, no longer complaining while she dug her fingers into my wet hair.

  I needed to wash this night away, mentally and physically. She opened her legs and I dragged her further up the bed so I could settle between her thighs. “I’m going to fuck you. Is that ok? I just need…to…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  She cupped my cheeks and nodded quickly. In that look, I knew she understood this wasn’t about the sex. I entered her carefully and let her sheath me, hold me, comfort me.

  I told myself I didn’t care about Fernand. And it was true. But I cared about the death. Another life taken because of me.

  She wiggled under my weight, and I eased off enough to look down at her. With her gaze locked to mine I pumped in and out of her. Using her eyes as an anchor point I ignored the scream of my body to pound into her, take her and reach my end, until I felt her shudder around me. Only once she settled from her own orgasm did I let myself go. I came immediately, still holding her gaze. My chest heaved, my legs shook, and she held me tight to her chest. I dropped my head to her shoulder and took a deep breath. She smelled clean, beautiful, like home.

  “Better?” she asked.

  I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her while my cock remained inside her. “Not yet, but I will be once all these bastards are taken care of.”

  Sixteen

  Mercy

  The next day I waited at the breakfast table for him but he didn’t come out. I’d spent the night wrapped around him and when the scent of coffee beckoned me from the cliffs I dragged myself out of the warm bed. I assumed he’d follow me, but I ate alone and wondered what had spooked him so muc
h the night before.

  Will’s life had been terrible and violent. I hadn’t doubted that for a second. And yet, one awful man killing himself, shook him to the core. Would he need my body for emotional support after each man he dismantled fell? Not that I minded. He wasn’t a selfish lover, unless he didn’t get his way.

  I finished eating, grabbed his plate, and wavered on leaving his coffee mug or mine. With a sigh I took his, and the food to his bedroom. He sat on the far side facing away when I entered.

  “Hungry? You didn’t come out, so I brought it to you. But don’t get used to this.” I handed him the plate and hesitantly the mug. It earned me a smile; it was worth it.

  “Don’t worry. I couldn’t possibly grow accustomed to you being kind to me.”

  I plopped onto the bed and curled back up into the still warm pillows. “What’s the plan for today? Watch and disguise, or take someone down?”

  He cleared his throat, his back bowed over his plate so I couldn’t look at his face. “Today we take down our old friend Villefort. A friend told me they are about to make the arrest. It took more time since they needed to be extra certain of the charges. And I needed to make sure everyone he usually pays off got more from me to stay silent and not help.”

  I traced the ridges of his spine with my index finger. He shifted and jerked forward. “Stop it.”

  Instead of my fingers, I replaced the path with my lips. He didn’t pull away this time. “You’re a fearsome man. So he’ll go to jail this time and then we have one left to go.”

  He froze and I pulled away thinking I’d touched a sensitive part of him.

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He put his plate on the bedside table and twisted toward me. “Fernand told me someone else was involved. Not just him, Villefort, and Danglars.”

  I thought about it. I’d had very few operations with any of them outside Danglars, who’d been the family fencer for years. “I don’t know who else could have been involved. But it’s not like we were all drinking buddies or anything.”

  He scanned my face and the idea he searched for lies there punched a hole in my chest. I sat up and faced him properly. “Why would I lie about this? I don’t know anyone else who could have been involved in helping them.”

  When he turned away again I climbed out of the bed. Obviously, the last couple days had gone to my head. I thought we’d moved on to a different dynamic, but he remained waiting for me to do something despicable to hurt him.

  I left the room and went to my own. Served me right for thinking he could be something—we could be something. I’d been acting like an idiot this whole time. Was he sitting in there thinking wow, this woman is an idiot, so starved for love she is handing herself over?

  I dressed quickly, did my hair, snagged one of the “decoration” books off the shelf in the corner and lay on the bed.

  He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. “Do you want to go with me to see Villefort go down? Maybe you might notice something which will help us catch the fourth man.”

  His use of the word us hit me first. He’d dress in his usual button down, jacket, tailored slacks. Something like a uniform for him. Why did I want to see him in jeans or workout clothes?

  It didn’t matter. I peeled out of bed and went with him to his revenge show.

  The court house was quiet. As if it too waited for lady justice to storm through the doors in a riot. We didn’t have to wait long. A troupe of police officers started congregating by the door.

  Then he entered and stopped immediately. Everyone stared him down. And those looks could flay the skin off a lesser man. He nodded and walked quickly through the pack until a detective stepped out from a small room. She presented her identification and read him his rights.

  We watched from our hold up in the corner, and I held on to his arm to keep him from surging to his feet. He wanted to take care of Villefort himself. That was obvious by the look in his eyes. I wrapped one arm around his bicep and the other around his waist the best I could. It wouldn’t do to keep him still, but my presence seemed to calm him enough.

  The detective spoke to Villefort in low tones. We couldn’t hear anything they said. Finally, she brandished her handcuffs and he took a step back. It was interesting watching a conversation from so far away. All body language. The detective hated his guts. Fear poured out of Villefort despite his aggressive posture.

  I missed the sign, but Will didn’t. He pushed me behind him the second the gunshot report echoed through the old building.

  All the cops assembled pulled their weapons and aimed them at Villefort. The detective as well. I watched from over Will’s shoulder. He sat coiled, ready to drop us to the ground at a second’s notice. I should be scared but with Will, I wasn’t.

  Villefort shouted and waved the gun around. The police shouted at him. I thought the detective would have talked him down, instead, he grew more agitated.

  “We need to get out of here,” Will said.

  He crouched low, keeping me behind him. I did an amalgamation of a crab walk and a duck walk to stay low enough. But we drew Villeforts’ attention. I had a second to see the gun pointed at us before a sharp crack, and Will’s heavy weight on top of me.

  He covered every part of me. Both our hearts slammed heavily in our chests, his against my face as he protected me.

  More gunshots rang out and then silence. No. Ringing. a soft tone echoed in my ears painfully. He pulled away and scooted so he could look at my face. “I’m fine.” I said, and sat up.

  He sagged in relief and then lurched to his feet and scooped me. “What, Will. I can walk.”

  But I glanced down and red bloomed at my calf. He carried me out of the building. Ambulances were already stationed outside and he immediately commandeered one of the medics standing at the rear. To their credit, they didn’t flinch at his shouting toward them.

  He sat me on the stretcher and one of the men started questioning me. “I’m fine. Please. It stings, but I don’t think I was shot. Probably just a graze.”

  The medic prodded the wound and I jumped. Will lurched forward, and I placed my hand on his chest. The medic turned to his partner and motioned. In seconds, I was in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

  Will trailed behind the gurney. A strange sight. This pillar of strength and masculinity looking so very fragile as they forced him to remain outside the doors.

  After a million tests, and twenty stitches, I complained at the fact they still held me hostage. While I didn’t involve myself in day to day criminal activities, I also didn’t want to speak to the police when they came asking questions.

  No doubt, Will didn’t want to do so either.

  The doctor came in one more time. She looked over my file, and asked me if I was pregnant. “No of course not.”

  She eyed me a moment. “No, Ma’am. I’m telling you. You’re pregnant.”

  I stared at her. Her words made sense, and yet, my brain couldn’t bring itself to unscramble them. I sat up straighter and tried to remain calm. “Can you repeat that one more time.”

  “You are pregnant. It’s very new.”

  “But,” I held my hands out trying to make her understand. “I’m 41 years old. I can’t be pregnant.”

  She shook her head at me like so. “I’m not saying your pregnancy will be easy and safe. But there is no reason why you can’t have a healthy baby at your age.”

  I slid off the bed and she grabbed me by the elbows. She was a foot taller and wider than me. Easily, she propped me back up. “Are you okay?”

  I tried to drag in oxygen. I couldn’t get enough. She forced my neck down toward my knees and I focused on breathing. Just because I was pregnant now didn’t mean I’d stay that way. A healthy baby was a possibility, but far less likely over 30-something. Or so I read, years ago.

  “I need to go.”

  She held me back. “We need to process you out. Do you want me to get your husband?”

 
; I let myself have that one. I nodded, and she left to go hunt him down.

  He came in before her, immediately bellying up to the bedside. “Are you okay? I’m sorry you had to be alone back here. They wouldn’t let me in until you were settled.”

  The doctor started to speak and I pointedly raised my voice. “The doc here was just telling me I’m fine and we can leave now.”

  “I’ll take you come,” he helped me off the bed and grabbed my heap of clothing. Then he scooped me up easily and carried me out to the car. With the care of a bomb squad agent holding a grenade he sat me in the vehicle and closed the door.

  I’d been shot at. Found out I was pregnant by my ex-convict captor/enemy. And now he was taking me back his place. This situation was fucked the fuck up.

  I leaned over and cradled my head.

  His cool hand met my neck and I sagged back into it. Overheated and my brain going 1000 miles a minute his touch calmed some part of the maelstrom threatening to spill over.

  We got to the apartment and he again carried me inside.

  He built a blanket fort onto the couch with pillows and heaps of down comforters. His care touched me, and I absentmindedly put my hand to my stomach. Then realized what I did and jerked it away.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I lay my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. Fernand’s face swam in my head. He hugged me tight and pulled away telling me Eddy had been killed in jail. I was twenty years old, already heartbroken from being without him for two years. The news had been the only thing to threaten my rule over my territory in the twenty years I’d been there.

  Which brought me full fucking circle to the human life now nestled inside my body. A body that was shot at, kidnapped, threatened, and fucked quite regularly. How did I manage this? I glanced over at Will who fussed with a cup of coffee and a book.

  I reached out. “Calm down. It’s some stitches. I’ll be perfectly fine in a couple of days. If the man had actually put a bullet in me, then I’d let you grovel. But this wasn’t your fault.”