by Meghan March
“Fuck.”
“Right . . . wait . . .” Then Ariel pauses, turning the screen toward me. There’s a black-and-white photo on the screen of a man wearing a big floppy hat.
“What?”
“Have you ever met a man who would wear a hat like that?”
“It’s stupid-looking but not unbelievable.”
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but what if . . . what if the Lizard isn’t a he?”
“You think he could be . . .”
Ariel and I lock eyes.
No fucking way. That would explain way too much. Why Kane and Rafe haven’t been able to track down the guy . . . because he’s not a guy.
Her expression turns grim. “I’ve had crazier theories.”
“Where is Magnolia right now?” I ask.
“Do you really want to go down this road?”
I think about my brother and Kane, and the lives we won’t ever get to live fully until this is over.
“I don’t have any other choice.”
43
Kane
“What the fuck? Are you serious?” I stare at Mount like he’s just told me he has four balls and a double dick.
“Do you think I make up shit about human trafficking? Even I have lines. Having a shipment change hands in my city when I have advance notice of it is unacceptable. You’re taking out the buyer and the seller tonight. I want to send a message to anyone who even thinks about running people through my city.”
I appreciate his sentiments but . . . he’s got one thing wrong.
“I don’t take orders from you,” I reply. “That’s not how we work anymore.”
He narrows his nearly black gaze on me. “Then consider this returning the favor that I did for you.”
Ransom said he was closing in on Lagarto, so there’s a fucking good chance I already need to be there. As soon as I get out of this cell-phone dead spot that’s Mount’s office, I’ll get in touch with him to find out where the hell he’s at.
“I take the job, and then we’re even.”
“Fine. As long as you end this. Tonight.”
“It’ll be done.”
44
Temperance
Kane isn’t returning my texts or calls, and I’m starting to worry. Skip starting, my mind is already running down all the rabbit holes of what could have possibly happened to him.
He’s fine. He’s capable. He’s probably just doing recon or something and turned his phone off.
I rationalize his silence any way I can as I pace my apartment, staring down at the app Ariel installed on my phone that allows me to track Magnolia. I don’t know how Ariel did it, but as long as Magnolia has her phone on her, I know where she is.
She’s been to the club and is now at her downtown penthouse. I can’t confirm any of my crazy suspicions until I talk to her, but I don’t want to confront her without Kane. I have no doubt that she’s dangerous.
And my fucking brother . . . he might be on a mission to kill his goddamned girlfriend and doesn’t even know it.
I don’t know how she could have pulled it off, but she’s wily as hell.
There’s only one other person I can call who might be able to shed some light on the situation, but I hesitate. It’s Sunday night, and my questions will certainly be unwelcome.
But what other choice do I have?
I exit the app and tap on my former boss’s contact. Keira knows Magnolia better than anyone.
“Hey, Temperance. Is something wrong?”
I suppose that would be my first reaction if she were calling me on a Sunday night too, so it’s fair.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Can I ask you about someone?”
She goes quiet for a beat. “You know I can’t and won’t tell you anything about Mount.”
“No, no, of course not. And that’s not what I’m after.”
“Then who?”
“Magnolia.”
The line goes silent for a long moment. “Maybe. What do you want to know?”
When I hang up with Keira, instead of feeling relieved, I find my apprehension has hit a new level. The final nail in my coffin of hope that my suspicions might be wrong? Keira’s last statement.
“Magnolia has been through things you can’t imagine. Don’t underestimate her.”
Something is seriously wrong here, and all roads lead back to Magnolia.
I reopen the app that I had tracking her, and the red marker has moved.
Where the hell are you going, Magnolia?
She’s heading out of town but sticking along the river.
I’m not full of conspiracy theories like Ariel, but it doesn’t take a mind like hers to come up with a few ideas about what could possibly be happening down by the Mississippi on a Sunday night.
Human trafficking.
My stomach clenches into a tight knot, and I try Kane again with no answer.
“Where are you?” I ask the empty room. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Let this happen and do nothing?”
Obviously, the room doesn’t answer me, but I already know one thing.
I can’t let this happen.
I pull on black leggings, a black T-shirt, and boots, and make sure the gun in my purse is loaded. I don’t know what I’m walking into, but I’m going to be prepared.
My phone rings as I slide into the front seat of the Audi. Kane.
“Thank God you’re okay. I’ve been trying to get you for hours.”
“Meeting ran long. Only have a minute. Lay low tonight. I’ll get home when I can.”
“But—”
“I’ll explain everything when I get home. I swear I’m not keeping anything from you, but I have to handle this myself. I’m going dark for a few hours. I promise I’ll be safe. I love you, Temperance.”
The call ends, and Kane is gone. I try to call him right back but the phone goes straight to voice mail.
He must have called me and then immediately turned his phone off. I’m smart enough to read between the lines. He’s not going to be reachable or traceable. He has a job. A hit.
Fuck. What if he’s going after Lagarto . . . and he doesn’t know it’s Magnolia?
I flip to the app again and check Magnolia’s position. She’s still sticking along the road that winds along the river. If Kane can’t stop whatever she’s doing, I will.
45
Kane
This is the last time.
My last job.
I know it when I walk out of Mount’s office and immediately call Temperance.
Before, I had nothing to lose. Now, I have everything.
There’s no question in my mind that if I wanted to keep living this life, Temperance could handle it. But I don’t want her to. I carry no guilt for the things I’ve done, but I don’t need to keep doing them. I have more money than we’ll be able to spend in a lifetime. Our children, if we have them, will be set for life too.
A vision of Temperance pregnant with a little girl who’ll look just like her forms in my mind as I drive toward an old warehouse by the river that’s bank owned and the perfect place to transfer a load of human cargo. The closer I get, the more real the vision becomes—so real that I have to block it out because it’s too pure for where I’m going and what I’m going to do.
Before I pull off the side of the road about a quarter mile beyond the warehouse and park behind an abandoned building, another picture blooms in my brain—my mom holding her granddaughter.
I wish I could give her that.
I pop the trunk and exit the car silently before collecting my sniper rifle from the hidden compartment.
This isn’t my first rodeo, but it’s going to be my last.
I keep to the shadows as I move quietly in the direction of the location Mount gave me, but the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Something doesn’t feel right.
Stopping, I listen for movement, hoping like hell I’m not about to get ambushed or that this isn’t a
double cross.
Mount hasn’t fucked me over yet, but if he’s determined for some reason that I’m at the end of my useful life, he wouldn’t hesitate to take me out.
But I can’t see him sending me into the dark to make it happen. He’d put a bullet between my eyes like a real man.
The sound of a truck rumbles up ahead, the old diesel motor vibrating the rusted mailbox near the gate entrance. I duck into the bushes as headlights cut through the falling dusk.
You’d think human trafficking would take place at night, in the pitch black, and some of it does. But plenty of it happens during broad daylight, in plain sight. This handoff, if that’s really what I’m walking into, is something in between. Early evening but still out of the way, where they think no one will see them. But I will, once I figure out where the fuck this is going down and what the right spot is.
This is one more reason I don’t take short-notice contracts. I never want to be surprised when I set up to do a job. I want to know the location of every entrance, exit, traffic pattern, security guard, security camera, fence line, and crack in the pavement.
There’s a reason I’m the best at what I do, and why I command a high price.
And now I’m walking up on human traffickers with no recon.
Fucking stupid.
Part of me wants to turn around and tell Mount to fuck off, but when I see the small bus turn into the open gate with a yellow West Park Care Center on the side, I know I can’t.
I’d do this job for free.
46
Temperance
I guide the Audi down the same road Magnolia traveled, and with each passing mile, I wonder what the hell I’m doing. I’ve done dumber things, but not for a very long time. Although, maybe this takes the cake. My nausea has passed and so have any other pregnancy symptoms. So . . . it was probably a false alarm.
I put that out of my mind because there’s nothing I can do either way. Instead, I focus on the situation at hand, which is the smartest choice.
I’ve been trying to piece all of this together, but it’s like trying to work on a puzzle without a box. Frustrating and time consuming.
The dot on the app keeps moving, but instead of going further, now it’s driving around in what seems to be circles.
“Please, God, tell me she’s not freaking lost.”
I know I can’t possibly get lucky enough that Magnolia is changing her mind about where she’s going, maybe due to a guilty conscience, but I can still hope.
Or she already picked up the people and is moving them.
My skin crawls at the thought of Magnolia trafficking people.
But she sells women . . . so despite her protests and explanation, is it really that unthinkable that she wouldn’t take this next step?
Unless I’m wrong and she’s just looking for a trendy restaurant that’s hip and hot and located outside of town? Yeah, I’m not that dumb either.
My gut says something bad is happening here, and if I’m wrong, then I can go home and wait for Kane and pretend I didn’t go off on some crazy goose chase.
And then the dot makes one last turn toward the river and stops.
Where the hell are you, Magnolia? And is Kane out here too?
47
Kane
From my perch on a rusty shipping container in the back corner of the shipyard, I’ve got my sight on the bus from the old folks’ home as it sits idling, and a black Suburban pulls up behind it and parks.
A boat motor drones in the distance, and through my scope, I get a closer look. It looks like a dozen people in orange life jackets, and Sandy’s Swamp Tours is painted along the side of the boat in big yellow letters.
Mount wants me to take out the buyer and the seller. How I’m going to know who is who, I have no fucking idea.
Another reason I don’t take a contract without research.
Someone important is in the SUV. If it’s Giles, I’ll finally get the chance I’ve been waiting for to take him out.
The boat pulls up next to the seawall, and a man climbs out of the bus to help them dock.
Before anyone can get off the boat, a BMW SUV hauls ass through the gate and slams on its brakes just before it T-bones the black Suburban, and the doors of both vehicles fly open.
A woman jumps out of the BMW and starts waving her hands and yelling.
What in the actual fuck?
I blink twice, and it takes me a full second to recognize her in the fading sunlight.
Magnolia Maison.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Mount sent me to eliminate the madam.
48
Temperance
I floor the Audi and blow past the little red dot that signifies Magnolia’s location.
Shit.
I turn into another driveway and back out, moving slowly as I approach again.
It’s a warehouse that looks like it’s about to fall down any second. Shipping containers are piled high in a parking lot, some with the doors wide open.
If I were a human trafficker, this is probably where I would be.
I pass it again before I pull off to the side of the road and cut the engine.
This is quite clearly the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’m not getting out of this car.
I’m just not.
Kane would kill me.
I pick up my phone and try him again for what feels like the twentieth time, but it goes straight to voice mail.
Dammit, Kane, where are you? Are you here?
I don’t need him to always come charging to my rescue, but when faced with a situation that’s a thousand levels out of my league, it would be nice to be able to get in touch with the man who handles stuff like this all the time.
I stare down at my phone and have one other last-ditch idea. But before I can tap my brother’s contact, the yelling starts.
I open the door to hear more clearly.
Magnolia. She’s hollering up a storm.
“Let go of me, Giles! Don’t you fucking touch me! I’m gonna kill you both if you set me up!”
Kill you both?
As in . . . Giles and . . .
Shit. Rafe is supposed to be ending this. Which means . . .
Jesus fucking Christ.
I’m not going to let Magnolia kill my brother. I glance at the shipping containers. But if Kane is here . . . he won’t let her.
Kane will never pull the trigger on a woman. I know that.
Fuck.
I slide my gun from its holster in my purse, get out of the Audi, and head toward what I hope isn’t my first kill. I only make it two steps before I freeze as Magnolia screams again.
“Rafe! Where the fuck are you? You lying bastard! I’m going to kill you myself!”
No.
No.
No.
49
Kane
Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t know what the hell is happening right here, right now, but I know it’s not what I expected to see.
Giles jumps out of the Suburban and grabs Magnolia Maison, who is thrashing around too much for me to take my shot at him.
Fucking woman.
She better not be the other target. Mount has to know I won’t kill her. That’s dirty work he’ll have to do himself.
When she starts screaming Ransom’s name, my finger freezes where it hovers over the trigger.
What. The. Fuck.
Temperance’s brother hops off the boat, leaving another man on board with the ten women in life jackets, and walks toward Magnolia.
Please tell me I’m fucking wrong about what’s happening here. Please tell me Ransom is about to double-cross them and—
He pulls a gun from his back pocket, but he doesn’t point it at Giles, he points it directly at Magnolia.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Mags?”
“I came because you fucking set me up to take the fall for this.” She attempts to wave a hand. “All this time . . . you were the motherfucking Lizard.”<
br />
No fucking way. That motherfucker did not play me.
No. I refuse to fucking believe it.
Ransom has been hunting the Lizard. He can’t be the Lizard.
I watch through the scope, and I know I’m wrong the minute he smiles and spits a wad of dip in the dirt. “I thought it meant alligator, actually. But languages aren’t my thing.”
Fucking. Shit.
I keep the crosshairs on Ransom’s head and my finger rests on the trigger, but I can’t do it.
Temperance will never forgive me if I do it. She will never understand. I’ll never be able to explain this to her.
Especially because I don’t know how I missed it myself. Ransom fucking played us all. Even his own goddamned sister.
“How could you lie to me?” Magnolia’s voice carries through the quiet night.
“Why the hell are you here?” Ransom asks.
“Mount.” Magnolia bites out his name. “Apparently he wanted me to see for myself what a piece of shit you really are.” She waves an arm at the women in the boat. “How could you?”
That motherfucker. Is that why he sent me? Because he wanted me to protect Magnolia while she confronted Ransom?
There are too many unanswered questions and complications for me to do a fucking thing.
Which Mount had to know.
Why didn’t he tell me Ransom was the target?
It takes me all of half a second to answer that question.
He knew I’d never do it if he told me.
But now, faced with the prospect of letting the man I thought I knew kill a woman who is screaming at him about lying to her . . . the choice becomes muddy.