He froze, knowing any movement he made would cause her to slide the blade across his skin. His breathing grew labored as he glanced from Adelaide to Wren.
Christian walked to meet them, a syringe appearing in his hand.
Was that how they’d finish the job? Is this how Marcus’s life would end tonight?
He tensed. No way in hell would he let them kill him by a needle. His life couldn’t end like this. His eyes darted from Wren to Adelaide and then to Taigen. The bastard smiled at him.
He’d known this would happen and just stood there.
Didn’t their deal mean anything?
Marcus opened his mouth to express his disappointment and watched as the needle came closer. “Is this what—”
The needle made its way to the inside of Adelaide’s arm and emptied.
She visibly relaxed, the whites of her eyes almost disappearing. The knife slipped further down his neck, but Marcus noted how much strength she used to hold it level.
His breath came in short gasps. The needle hadn’t been for him at all. “I can help you,” Marcus said, nearly dropping to his knees in gratitude. He’d never been religious, but he wanted to thank God in that moment.
“I have the best at my disposal, Agent Grant.” Christian smiled, his eyes darting to the back of Adelaide’s head. “What can you offer me that I don’t already have?”
Marcus thought of his next answer, drawing a lie from truth. “If you help me, I can keep the authorities off your back.”
Christian’s eyes narrowed into slits as he slid his hands into his pants pockets. “What makes you think I don’t already have someone watching my back?”
A single thought crossed Marcus’s mind, causing his stomach to drop. “Beth Howard,” he whispered, but more to himself.
“Ah, you’re more intelligent than I made you out to be,” Christian said, skimming his fingers across Adelaide’s throat as he turned to leave.
Her eyes drooped but she remained very aware of the situation. She pulled her chin up, gripping the knife harder in her hands.
“Wait!” His hands shot out in front of him, heart pounding behind his ears, mouth dry. Marcus licked at his lips, searching his brain for a reason she shouldn’t kill him where he stood.
Christian exhaled in frustration, but turned back. “There is no reason why I shouldn’t let her kill you, Agent Grant.” He crossed his arms over his chest as Adelaide moved even closer. “I can already guess as to why you’re here.”
“Then why keep me alive?” Marcus asked. “Why string me along?”
Silence rang throughout the alley and surrounding buildings as Christian considered the question.
Marcus couldn’t even hear the music from inside the club as he waited for a death sentence, only the sound of his labored breathing. If he had any idea why I was really here, he thought, then he’d kill me now.
Uncrossing his arms, Wren took one step forward. “I’ve seen what you can do, Agent Grant. I believe we can work something out. Congratulations.”
A confused chuckle escaped his throat. “For what?”
“For surviving.” Christian turned, walking back to the side entrance of the club without elaborating, but Marcus still couldn’t understand why he’d survived.
* * *
“Need a ride?” Marcus asked, leaning against the rusted door of his Buick. He’d been waiting for Daniel outside the hospital for two hours, stiff from his episode with Wren. The photos of Adelaide and Taigen had been given to their father long before then.
Daniel stopped less than twenty feet away, confused. He squinted into the sun, covering his eyes with the photos grasped in his hand. “Where did you get these?” Stepping forward, he searched down each side of the street. “Where were they taken?”
“I took them. Here, in Los Angeles.” Marcus pushed away from the car but waited for Daniel to come to him. “Two days ago.”
“Where are they?” Anxiety tinted the words as they left Daniel’s mouth. His body tensed, and Marcus imagined the man not only wanted but needed to see his children.
Marcus didn’t know his story but didn’t care. He’d just wanted to give the man some hope after being locked in a basement for nineteen years. “They’re alive and together, but I can’t tell you anything else right now.”
Daniel considered his words. “Then why would you give me these?”
“I just needed you to know.”
Shaking his head, Daniel dropped the photos back to his side. “Are they involved in Vicente’s case?”
“No,” he replied, watching as the Englishman nodded and turned to leave.
He stopped mid-turn, his lips puckering in consideration. His eyes darted to the ground then over the photos. “Are they in some kind of trouble then?”
Marcus wasn’t sure how to answer, but looking at the man standing before him, he figured the truth would be better. He nodded in confirmation. “I’m sorry.”
Daniel didn’t respond and remained motionless for a moment, staring at the photos in his hand. “Are they happy?”
“I don’t think so, Daniel.” Marcus tossed him the keys to the Buick. “They’re in deep with a really bad guy, but they’re together and they want out.”
The Englishman caught the keys, staring at his hand. “Are you going to help them?”
“If I can get the information I want,” Marcus said and considered his next words carefully, “and Wren is behind bars, I’ll do what I can to help them.”
Daniel nodded absentmindedly.
“I’ll keep you informed,” Marcus said, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. This man had already been through too much, losing his children, being locked away, believing his family had been killed. Daniel Banvard deserved information and he had the power to ease the man’s heart. It was the right thing to do. “I promise.”
“Why are you doing this?” Daniel asked, suspicion written all over his face. “What do you want from me?”
Marcus weighed his answer. “I think it’s time you caught a break, don’t you?”
He turned down the sidewalk, unable to justify giving his car keys to a man he hardly knew, but something about Daniel pulled Marcus into believing he could trust the man. Then again, maybe gratefulness the guy’s children hadn’t killed him had taken his common sense.
Chapter Nine
The night he’d been whipped for setting Adelaide free played repeatedly through Christian’s head as he sipped his Scotch. Harlow had made sure he wouldn’t walk for days, but the injuries didn’t stop him from finding her in an alley two weeks later.
Darkness surrounded him, shelves of books staring him down in the light from the fireplace. Adelaide consumed his thoughts. Everything he’d done for her, everything they’d been through together, none of it mattered. She didn’t care about him as she’d demonstrated tonight.
He’d seen her reaction to the ATF agent. She’d relaxed at the sound of his voice, the fire in her eyes burning to low embers. The sedatives had begun to wear off too quickly these days, destroying her immune system with each injection. Soon Adelaide wouldn’t be able to experience touch or simply move.
She’d be useless to him.
But Marcus could save her.
When Christian had considered killing the agent where he stood, an idea ignited in front of him. Marcus Grant just might be the solution to his problem, but only if he could find a way to rein in the bloodthirsty expression on the cop’s face.
He needed another fall guy. Scott Lively had met his end too soon, ruining his plans for the future. In return, there had to be something Marcus wanted, something Christian could bait the agent with. Keep your friends close, he thought, taking another sip of Scotch, and your enemies even closer.
The phone startled him out of his thoughts and he didn’t let it ring a second time.
“It seems we have a problem,” the voice on the other end said.
“Problem?”
The district attorney of California had always bee
n a bit dry. “You know what I’m talking about, Wren. You’re letting an ATF agent snoop around?”
“He won’t find anything, Collin. The ledger is safe.”
“That book shouldn’t even exist!” Collin shouted into Christian’s ear. “Do you know what an agent could do to me? To you? Everything would be lost.”
“He won’t find anything,” he repeated confidently, swirling his Scotch with his index finger. “You’re getting paranoid.”
“And you’re going soft, Wren. You better make damn sure this agent keeps his nose out of my business or—”
Christian straightened, anger encompassing every word leaving his mouth. “Or what, Rutherford? Let me remind you I was the one who took care of your little problem with the assistant district attorney. Do not think for a second I won’t end our deal.” He slammed the phone down, exhaling in frustration. He didn’t need Rutherford watching his every move or his accusations of things getting out of control.
Agent Marcus Grant would come in handy soon. Christian would make sure of it, but he needed Adelaide more. A little blood and exercise would work off his anger.
He smiled to himself, eager for the hunt.
* * *
“The pool is over that way,” Taigen said, pointing to the right as he led Marcus down the main hallway in the mansion. It seemed the entire house had been built off of the hall, rooms leading to the left and right. “We have the kitchen over there. Feel free to help yourself.” He turned around with a smile.
They continued down the hall, passing room after room.
“You can pretty much choose any room you want,” Taigen continued. “Mine is over there.” He pointed to the left side of the house. “We got Christian’s up here and Adie’s is next to his. If you need anything, just call.”
“Sounds good.”
A duffle bag with a two-week supply of clothes hung over Marcus’s shoulder. Whatever Christian Wren had in store for him, Marcus would be ready. He could only hope Taigen would be just as prepared to hold up his end of the bargain.
“And up here we’ve got the training room.” Taigen turned into a set of glass double doors on the left.
Marcus froze in the door frame, taking stock of the giant space before him. Larger than any gym he’d ever set foot in, the training room made him smile. A vast array of rock climbing walls claimed his attention. Four separate walls, each with a different level of difficulty, overhangs, and colored holds, stood at least fifty feet in height. Treadmills, free weights, and exercise balls decorated the space to the left, sprinkled with men and women alike. On the right, gymnastic mats had been strategically placed across the long hardwood floor, roped off with a boxing ring in the corner.
A half dozen others used the training room as Taigen finished the tour, but Marcus found his attention repeatedly focusing on one trainee in particular.
Adelaide, with white-blonde hair and tight muscles, hung from one of the rock wall overhangs. Her feet dangled far from any foothold as she reached down to grab the rope between her legs. She’d fall at any moment, but he watched in amazement as the rope slid into the carabiner with ease.
“Not bad, is it?” Taigen laughed at Marcus’s expression.
“Not bad at all.” He slung his duffle from his shoulder onto the floor, keeping his eyes on the woman above. “When do we start?”
“Right now.” The voice from behind startled him.
Marcus turned, only to realize Christian Wren stood behind them, arms folded, watching.
Wren, in one of his many pristine suits, nodded toward Adelaide. “She’s good, isn’t she?” He smiled with pride as his eyes floated upward. “My little adrenaline junkie.” He slapped Marcus on the back but didn’t remove his hand, cupping Marcus’s shoulder. “Shall we get started? There’s a lot to accomplish in the next few weeks.”
Marcus forced a smile, embarrassed at having been caught ogling the boss’s woman and disgusted at Wren’s touch. This man had killed his best friend. He inhaled deeply, trying to control the murderous expression undoubtedly crossing his face. “Yeah, let’s get to it.”
“Good.” Christian turned, walking toward the spot where Adelaide would touch ground as he called over his shoulder, “Taigen, show him how it’s done.” He shouted up to her, but Marcus couldn’t make out the words. The arms dealer had finished with him for the time being.
Following after Taigen, he headed for the blue mats spread across the right side of the gym. “What are you going to show me?” he asked, certain whatever the training, he could handle it.
Suddenly on his back, he stared up at the well-lit ceiling.
“How to expect the unexpected.” Taigen smiled from above. Offering his hand, he wrenched Marcus from the floor.
“Wow. That was good.”
“That’s the idea.” Banvard positioned himself into another fighting stance. “Now, let’s see what you got, cop.”
He smiled slightly with the sentiment. “My pleasure.”
His foot swung of its own accord, barely missing Taigen, but his fist followed, striking his opponent in the shoulder.
Banvard wobbled back a few steps. “Looks like you know some stuff.” He readied himself again.
“You have no idea.”
For the next three hours they sparred, each learning something new from the other.
Training wore Marcus down by nine o’clock. Even after all his years in the Marines, he couldn’t keep going. Ready to crash, he picked a room at the far end of the house. He wanted a safe distance from Wren and his second in command. Guarantees he wouldn’t be caught during his investigation had been thrown out the window, but the farther away he stayed from either one of them, the better his chances of finding evidence against them.
Lavish, beyond the luxuries of any hotel he’d ever stayed in, the room he’d chosen should have been part of a palace. Painted a dark blue, decorated with numerous paintings in thick engraved gold frames and matching bedding, this room offered comfort. The only rooms paid for by ATF consisted of a bed, broken cable and cockroaches.
Dropping his duffle bag onto a stuffed chair in the corner, Marcus stripped out of his sweaty clothes and threw them onto the floor next to the bathroom.
Within the actual bathroom, tile spread across every inch of the floor, covered by an occasional rug. Damn rug cost more than a week’s pay, he thought. The burgundy towels matched the rugs and the carpet in the bedroom. With two sinks built into the counter, a jetted tub in the corner and a large shower built into the other corner with two sides of clouded glass, the family-sized bathroom would work just fine.
Apparently, money is everything. Marcus walked to the shower door, pulling the silver handle outward. He smiled. Five shower heads stuck out from the walls, each a different size and shape. “Now this is a shower,” he joked to himself, stepping inside to wash the day away.
* * *
He dropped from the helicopter like a rock. No one had seen the team yet, waiting under the trees, but the enemy would notice their presence soon.
His feet hit the ground silently and he released his harness. Marcus watched as the helicopter floated away into the distance, leaving him and his team behind. Radio silence. They knew the mission. No reason for chatter.
The wind ruffled the trees around them as he lowered himself into a kneeling position, waiting for a sign of enemy forces. No other sound but the trees, but his instincts told him safety lay back home. Not here.
For now, the coast was clear.
His intel had been accurate.
His signal to his second in command had been received. They started toward a line of rocks a few hundred feet away. Each man followed the other into the dark, keeping close to each other.
Ten seconds went by, then twenty, and Marcus’s stomach dropped.
They weren’t alone.
His heartbeat sped up. His voice vanished at the back of his throat. He tapped anxiously on his earbud, but it was too late.
One man dropped to the gro
und, motionless, followed by another and then another.
His signal had led them to failure.
For the first time in his life, fear coursed through his veins in a rush. He lunged behind a tree to save himself. The air in his lungs wouldn’t flow fast enough. He’d been trained for situations like this, but nothing came to mind as he watched the rest of his team die before his eyes. The men he’d trained with, served with and would die to protect fell to the forest floor. A scream ripped from his throat.
Marcus jerked himself awake, not wanting to wait for the end. It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t alone. The feeling of an indentation at the end of the bed made him bolt upright as he grabbed the knife from under his pillow and flipped on the bedside lamp.
She only stared at him with unnatural green eyes, unmoving.
His breathing sounded labored. Marcus forced himself to take slow even breaths as he tried to speak. “What—” he started. “What are you doing here?”
Adelaide didn’t answer.
Looking around the room, he noted everything seemed to be in place. “I could’ve killed you.” He replaced the knife back under his pillow. “Are you lost?” The question seemed ridiculous, considering she lived in the house, but he waited for an answer.
Disappointment flashed hot in his mind.
Her mouth opened slightly, bringing Marcus’s full attention to her pink lips.
He wondered if they’d be as soft as they looked, but he pushed the thought away. He’d come to exact revenge, to bring a murderer to justice, not to chase tail. But as Adelaide sat in front of him, he had a hard time remembering his goal. “You’re Adelaide, right?”
No answer.
“That’s a pretty name,” he commented, but grew more uncomfortable with each passing second. “I saw you climbing earlier. I didn’t know anyone was that good.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but Marcus couldn’t explain why.
“Ah.” He looked around the room again, wondering if she’d realized where she’d ended up. She shouldn’t be here. His mind refused to focus after the dream. He didn’t have the strength to deal with another person now. “Well, good night.”
Let Me Out (For Me, #1) Page 9