by Shay Savage
I couldn’t hold back any longer—I laughed out loud.
“Did you really think that after being in a hole for eighteen months you could threaten me with prison?” I laughed again. “Fuck you. Fuck you, your DNA evidence, and whatever other shit you think you have on me. None of it makes a fucking difference.”
“Well, all right, you got me there.” Trent dropped the chair back down on the ground with a thump. “I admit I figured you weren’t too scared of the idea of being in chains again. I mean, you get used to it, don’t you? You probably learned to love it.”
I looked away from him and took a deep breath.
“I watched that vid from the other day,” Trent said. “That’s a hot little piece of ass you’ve acquired. Lia Antonio, I believe?”
I turned to him with a glare, trying to threaten him as much as I could with my eyes alone.
“Does she know?” Trent’s voice dropped down low. “Does she know all about your escapades? I bet she’d like to know.”
I continued to glare at him, but inside, my mind was racing. I couldn’t let her find out about me—not like that. Even beyond everything else, I couldn’t let her watch me go to prison with rumors flying that I had fucked the guy I killed.
“I understand her fiancé has put out a missing persons report on her,” Johnson said. His mouth turned up into a bit of a smile.
“Oh, that’s right!” Trent snapped his fingers. “Maybe we’ll just give him a call and let him know where she is.”
“Leave her alone,” I said with deadly calm.
“Don’t think so,” Trent replied. “Frankly, I’m getting tired of playing with you. You don’t want to cooperate, so maybe I’ll go question her and see what she knows.”
“She doesn’t know anything.”
Trent stood up and slammed his briefcase shut.
“I’ll just have to find that out for myself.” He turned to head to the door.
Once again, I knew exactly what he was doing. However, this time it didn’t make any difference. He had me, and we both knew it.
“Wait.” I made eye contact with him as he turned around and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Don’t waste my time,” Trent said.
“There has to be something else I can give you,” I said.
“The offer is as it stands,” Trent replied. “You give me Moretti, and I give you your freedom to go fuck up your life some more. I’ll still be riding your ass for the fun of it because I doubt it will last. You’d have a bit of time to shove your cock in Miss Antonio for a while longer, though.”
“No,” I replied, ignoring his crude remarks. “Another way.”
“I’m not having a fucking debate with you, Arden.”
“Not Moretti.” My mind raced. There had to be an alternative—something else I could do to satisfy Trent that didn’t include bringing down the one person who held my undying loyalty—the one I couldn’t betray. “It…it wouldn’t work. They’d know if I was…doing something different. Out of the ordinary.”
It was a line of bullshit. The people who worked closely with me were used to me doing the unexpected, and anything out of the ordinary would be consider yet another one of my idiosyncrasies.
“Then I’m going to go have a visit with your little lady friend and see just what all she knows about your activities.”
I took a couple of slow, deep breaths to focus myself. I had to think—what else would a man like Trent want? Nothing but a big takedown would work for him, and Moretti was it around here. Maybe if we were in New York and I knew more about the people there, I could offer to infiltrate and bring down an organization larger than Moretti’s but not around here.
But there were other organizations, other families…
“I’ll give you Gavino Greco,” I stated. My eyes met with his. “Not just him, but the Severinovs, his Russian associates. You’d get them all—two families for the price of one.”
Trent eyed me carefully, and I could practically see the little wheels in his head spinning. He didn’t care about Moretti specifically—he was probably just looking for the next big promotion, and any major crime lord bust would work for him.
“How are you going to do that?” he asked.
“That’s my problem, isn’t it?”
“If I don’t believe you can do it, it’s my problem, too.”
“I can do it,” I promised. “Greco will jump at the chance to have me on his side. He has so many enemies, his kill roll has to look like Santa’s shopping list. I can get his trust as far as I would need to.”
“You’ve taken out a few of his people.”
I wasn’t going to respond to such a direct accusation. Even though he had me, and the cameras weren’t rolling, I wasn’t going to make all this shit easy for him. In the back of my head, I was hoping to just bide enough time to figure out what I could do to get both myself and Lia out of this completely.
“He’ll buy it,” I said. “I know he will.”
He leaned over and tapped the tabletop with his finger.
“You think you can do that? Deliver them both to me?”
“Dead or alive?” I asked.
“Alive, asshole. I need a bust, not a body.”
“I can do it,” I said with conviction. “But you stay away from Lia Antonio.”
“I suppose I could agree to that.” Trent nodded. “You get me Greco and Severinov, and I’ll have that DNA evidence removed from the database.”
His nasty little smile came back. I wasn’t stupid enough to trust the asshole, but I had to ask.
“How do I know you won’t just use all that shit against me later?”
“Well, here’s the thing,” Trent said. “You really don’t. That’s not one of my problems, though. You’ll just have to go with how trustworthy I look and hope for the best. You don’t have much of a choice here.”
“You going to let me take care of two families and then continue to suck me dry?”
“If that’s what you’re into,” Trent said with a nod. “I guess we could always go back and look for more evidence farther back in Ashton’s throat. I’ll be in touch, Mister Arden.”
He and Johnson stood together and walked out the door. A minute later, I was taken back to my cell. No one asked me about my busted lip; I was just led quietly back to my cell and tossed inside to come up with what the fuck I was going to do to get out of all of this.
I was going to have to find some way to help Trent get Greco and Severinov behind bars.
I would have rather just killed him.
I was taking a chance, a huge chance. They were leaving me with very few options, though. Brad Ashton’s death wasn’t something Rinaldo could just bribe my way out of—it was far too public. Fans on Twitter and Facebook were demanding some kind of action on the case, and if it were to be discovered that I was not only his killer but also intimate with him? Even if it was only kissing, the implications were staggering.
It wasn’t a matter of reputation—I didn’t give a shit if someone thought I was gay or not. It was the fact that I had been so careless—so sloppy—as to leave evidence like that behind. Rinaldo would have a totally different opinion. He wouldn’t like the idea that his number one enforcer was in the closet, true or imagined. It wouldn’t matter to him. In his eyes, it would make me weaker, and weaker wouldn’t serve him better.
The chances of him bringing a lawyer to represent me on that case were pretty much nil.
Then there was Lia. I couldn’t bring myself to regret her coming to see me—I needed her—but it had also put her far too close to me, which made her a target as well. If Trent knew about her, others would find out soon enough if I didn’t do something to protect her. I wasn’t sure if Trent had the idea of telling her in his back pocket the whole time and played me up with the evidence and shit just to get me going, but my guess was that he probably did. Rinaldo had warned me about being attached to people on many, many occasions. He even warned me about Bridgett, though I hadn
’t realized how close to her I was at the time.
“Getting close to a girl,” Rinaldo said, “can be a good thing. If you were someone else—someone less complicated—the worst that can happen is you don’t work out. You’re a complicated man, Arden, and you are in a complicated position. Bitches make it even more complicated.”
“I’m aware, sir.”
“You’re aware,” he mocked. “Will that change anything when someone finds out you give a shit? What better to hold over your head than a warm cunt, huh? You take better care not to show your affection for her. You’ve done a shit job on that front with that pup of yours.”
It didn’t matter in the end. They tried to use Bridgett against me, but whatever we had between us wasn’t more important than my loyalty to Rinaldo Moretti. It didn’t stop me from killing her for her betrayal.
But with Lia? That was another subject. If she did something like Bridgett had done, I wasn’t sure how I would react. Bridgett was a convenient fuck and useful for helping me sleep, but Lia meant something completely different—something I couldn’t put into words or even thoughts.
Regardless of the outcome, I couldn’t betray Rinaldo. Never that. It wasn’t just about a paycheck or the fact that he gave me a job and a reason to be out walking around in the world—it was a lot more than that. Like my unnamed feelings for Lia, I couldn’t express why I felt the loyalty I did, but it wasn’t something I could drop because of the threat of a prison sentence.
I wasn’t sure I could even drop it for Lia’s sake.
I shook my head and leaned against the cell wall to stare out the windows at the cars and people far below. It was too difficult to think in this place. I needed to get outside and maybe get in a little target practice to get my mind really functioning again.
I wondered if I’d ever see my Barrett again.
It was most certainly taken in as evidence and very possibly lost to me at this point. I could get another one, but that one had been with me for a long time—bought it outright when I was discharged. It had taken most of the money I had at the time, but it was the only way I could stay focused. I needed the feel of the cool metal in my hands as my finger pulled back on the trigger and the recoil pressed hard against my shoulder. Watching rounds go into a target through the scope was the only time I felt at peace.
Well, maybe peace wasn’t exactly the right word, but it stopped me from panicking.
I sighed and brought myself back to the present long enough to consider who I knew in Greco’s organization well enough to approach them and convince them my loyalties were now up for grabs. I couldn’t come up with any of the people who hadn’t had the barrel of my Beretta pointed at their faces during one intense encounter or another. I’d also killed off the cousin of Greco’s mistress once upon a time, though he didn’t know it was me.
The guard called to out to me—it was time to eat what they tried to pass off as food around here. I wasn’t hungry and would have rather stayed in my cell and plotted in silence, but skipping meals wasn’t an option. Despite the need to come up with a plan, I needed my resources in the outside world.
Nothing could be done from here, so I was just going to have to wait.
Chapter 6—Intense Reconnection
I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised when Masterson came to my cell and informed me that I had been let out on bond. He’d only been told of an unscheduled hearing which went favorably for me, but I doubted the meeting had even taken place. Trent’s resources were on the ball, no doubt about that.
I was going to have to play all of this really, really carefully.
First things first.
“Can I make a call?”
“It’s not my fucking decision,” Masterson grumbled as he led me out of the unit. “You can ask the warden.”
The unit supervisor let me call while my things were brought out of their storage area. The phone only rang twice before I heard a familiar voice on the other end.
“Mark Duncan.”
“Hello, it’s Evan Arden. I need a favor.”
“Of course, Evan—what do you need?”
“You remember the girl who came here?” I rolled my eyes at myself and shook my head. I was the deranged one; of course, he would remember. “I was just hoping you had her contact information. I don’t have my phone here.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Could you call her and ask her to come and get me?”
“Get you?” He paused before continuing. “Evan, where are you?”
I could practically see his face as he contemplated whether or not I had escaped and was now on the run. I wondered if he was picking up his landline to call the cops on his escaped patient.
“I’m still at the MCC,” I told him. “I’m being released.”
“Released?”
“Yeah.” I never understood people’s desire to repeat words like that, but I tried not to let it annoy me. It was probably the last thing he was expecting to hear from me. “Can you call her?”
“Yes, I can,” he said. “I just can’t believe no one contacted me. When was this?”
“Just a little while ago, special hearing or something. I don’t know. I just know I want out.”
“I can get you.”
“No, really—if you could call her and have her come, that would be great. I need to sleep, but I’ll come and see you soon.”
I wasn’t going to, but he’d figure that out soon enough.
With the phone handed back to some woman behind a desk, I was taken to a small room and left alone with a cardboard box containing everything I had on me when I was brought in. I reached in and pulled out the Marine-issue fatigues. I didn’t want to put them back on, but I couldn’t exactly go out still wearing prison orange, so I quickly removed the jumpsuit. I wasn’t about to put on the underwear I had been wearing at the time, so I left it in the box and pulled on the tan, camouflage-pattern pants commando-style. My watch was next, then a pale grey T-shirt followed by the socks. For some reason, the idea of dirty footwear didn’t seem as nasty to me as the boxers. My boots and hat were in the box as well, and when I pulled them out, something dropped to the floor with a metallic clang.
My dog tags.
I picked them up and ran my finger over the raised letters.
ARDEN
EVAN N. USMC
047289
A NEG
CATHOLIC
I took a deep breath and tried to push away the plethora of memories the cool metal tried to conjure. For the most part it worked—the tags only evoked pleasant memories. The only real regret I had was labeling myself as Catholic, though as a seventeen-year-old, the response to the question had been automatic.
If there was a God, He didn’t have any love for me, so fuck Him.
I slipped the metal chain around my neck and tucked the tags inside my T-shirt before I laced up my boots, donned the hat, and left the room. I had to sign a few more papers, but the process didn’t take that long. I hoped that Lia had received my message by now and also that she wasn’t waiting for me for too long.
Without any other direction, I headed outside. I looked up and down Van Buren Street but didn’t see any sign of Lia parked anywhere. I walked to the corner of Van Buren and South Clark, but I didn’t see anyone there, either. There didn’t seem to be any actual parking on the street close to the entrance, so it was hard to tell where she might have to go to park a car.
I dropped my ass to wait on a cement wall used as the foundation of a flower garden.
And wait.
After a while, I was beginning to get a little nervous. Would Trent have already taken action, believing that I wouldn’t follow through with my end of this deal? Would he have grabbed her and detained her just to have more leverage over me?
I leaned over, took off the hat, and dropped my head into one hand.
How long would it be before Rinaldo knew I had been released? How long after that before he came looking for me? At what point would he re
alize I wasn’t coming to him, send out a search party of sorts, and realize I was batting for the other team?
That was the most difficult part of all of this: he would have no idea that I was doing this to protect him. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to get that message to him without alerting both Greco and Trent.
“Hey, Marine!”
I flinched, glanced to my right, and saw a guy in jeans and a sweatshirt approaching. He reached down and grabbed my arm to shake my hand.
“I just want to thank you for your service,” he said in a thick southern accent. “My cousin was a Marine, and you guys are the best!”
I didn’t have much time to react before he was off across the street, so I shook my head a little and watched, wondering if he had any idea what he was really saying, and if he’d still thank me if he knew everything. When I first returned from active duty, a bunch of people said similar things to me, and I still I didn’t understand why they did. I figured most of it was because I was in Virginia at the time, and they kept putting my picture up on television.
I needed to get the fuck out of these clothes.
There was a trash can near the wall where I sat, and a noise coming from it caught my attention. A small rat made its way up a plastic bag and sat along the rim of the can, looking at me.
“Getting takeout?” I asked it.
The rodent looked to the sound of my voice before it scurried back down into the bottom of the can.
Looking up and down the sidewalk and the street, I still didn’t see any sign of Lia. I checked my watch. It had been a full forty minutes since I had contacted Mark to call her. I wondered how far away she lived and if she had been caught in traffic or something.
Maybe she’s not coming.
It was more than possible that she had thought better of hanging out with a fucked up lunatic like me and refused to show up. If that were the case, Mark would have contacted me—I was sure of that. He would have at least called into the main office and had someone step outside and look for me. Hell, considering how dedicated he was, he’d probably just show up here and offer me a ride.
How long was I going to wait? An hour? Two?