by Fox, Logan
How could he have been such a monumental idiot?
Cora’s life was at stake. The life of their unborn child. Because he’d once again trusted someone he shouldn’t have.
Ironically, it was his trust issues that had made him so doubtful of Kane in the first place. And if it hadn’t been for Kane…
If it hadn’t been Kane, it would have been someone — or something — else. He always found a way to fuck up things for himself.
Like when he was working for the Martins — feeding them both intel while he took their paychecks.
Who does that?
Someone as unreliable as him.
People had put their trust in him, and he’d failed them. Now, anytime he put his trust in someone else, they were destined to fail him too.
All part of the fucked-up circle of life. Checks and balances so inaccurate, the smallest mistake set you back years, and the greatest sacrifice would make no difference.
He had to make this up to Cora. She may never forgive him, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. Now, more than ever, he had to prove himself to her.
Prove that he was worthy of her forgiveness.
Prove, more than anything, that he was worthy of her love.
19
Mallhaven, 6777
“I still don’t know why you’re so surprised she’s gone and done this,” Lars said.
Finn tightened his grip on the SUV’s steering wheel, but didn’t reply. He knew Lars was trying to bait him into an argument, but he didn’t have the energy.
Lars glanced over at him and let out an expressive sigh. “Take the next turn off.”
A road sign appeared a few seconds later. Fool’s Gold County. The sign looked new, but the lettering had an old school touch to it, as if it wasn’t government issued. The landscape began to change. A mountain range reared in the far distance, the tips dusted with snow but the slopes so dark as to be black.
“Spiky motherfuckers,” Lars murmured to himself as he sat forward.
“How much longer?” Finn asked.
Lars took a peek at his laptop’s map. “Ten minutes, give or take.”
The freeway they were on had a faded look to it, but it was in immaculate condition. He slowly sped up until he was pushing one-thirty. Lars didn’t say anything, but he did decide it was finally time to put on his safety belt.
“And now?” Finn asked.
“Well, maybe five,” Lars admitted grudgingly. “If we get there at all.”
“I can’t believe you gave her your phone.”
Fuck, maybe he did have enough energy for an argument. It was that, or put up with his beast’s restless pacing and growling in his mind.
She was gone again. Taken from him by another.
This shit had to stop.
“I told you why I did it,” Lars said slowly, like he was trying to communicate with a child, and failing. “And I told you I was sorry.”
“How the fuck did she get out?”
“Our little princess is quite resourceful, Milo. Despite the fact we never taught her how to drive, she somehow figured out how to call a cab.” Lars pounded his fist into the dashboard. “Dammit! How was she able to use a phone?”
Finn growled low in his throat, and Lars sat back hurriedly, dusting the lapels of his jacket.
“Too soon?” Lars murmured.
“I’m just keeping straight on this road?”
“We’re looking for Mallhaven. Prospect Street.” Lars turned his attention back to the laptop, drumming his fingers briefly on the housing. “Should be coming up in a few—”
“I see it.” Finn decelerated, and Lars’s hand shot out to the dashboard to keep him from shifting forward in his seat. The man cast a wary glance in his direction as Finn took the exit.
A new sign appeared, the same as the one that had announced their entrance into Fool’s Gold County.
Mallhaven
Not ominous at all.
Finn slowed down, not sure how enthusiastic local law enforcement would be about traffic regulations. When the first road sign popped up telling him the speed limit was a mere forty, he gritted his teeth and did his best not to exceed it.
The last thing they needed was to get pulled over, especially since both of them were packing.
“It’s kinda cute,” Lars commented from the passenger seat, his head turned to the window. “I could see myself retiring here.”
The mountain range was much closer now. It encircled a valley in a semi-circle of sharp precipices, the upper slopes so steep that nothing grew there and consisting of a dark, gleaming rock. The mountains leveled out toward the valley where a small town nestled, a forest of firs and pines reared olive green, tangled, and impenetrable.
It looked cozy enough, but getting lost in those forests would be the last mistake anyone ever made.
“Okay, now we’re looking for Sluice Avenue.”
“I see it,” Finn said.
“Then take a left.”
Further ahead, Prospect Street cut through the middle of what looked like a typical American town. Some facades looked old enough to be historical, but newer shopfronts crowded in beside them. A few cars stood parked on the roads. They stopped beside a man in a pickup loaded with produce.
In Sluice Avenue, the lots weren’t that pretty anymore. They passed warehouses, a dive bar, and a junkyard before turning into Dredge Avenue.
Finn parked their SUV a little up the road from their destination. Lars closed his laptop and slid it under the seat as they sat and stared at the warehouse.
“Let’s go.” Finn climbed out, glancing around. A car drove by, but it parked at a grimy looking shopfront that sold automotive parts.
“You don’t think we should stake it out a little?”
Finn turned to Lars. His expression must have answered the question well enough because Lars hastily lifted his hands and came around the side of the SUV at a quick walk.
They strode across the street to the warehouse. The man who’d parked at the adjacent property gave them a disinterested glance before going inside the automotive shop.
“Open it,” Finn said, indicating toward the massive padlock on the roller door.
Lars dug in his pocket, crouched, and got to work on the lock as Finn kept watch. The little town was so quiet, he doubted anyone would come past in the next five minutes.
“Got it.” Lars grabbed the roller door. “You sure you want to—?”
Finn bent, grasped the door, and wrenched it up. The squeal of rusting metal made his teeth clench it was so loud — but it wasn’t as if they’d planned to sneak in.
The musty smell of stagnant water, pigeon shit, and dust rolled out in a wave. Lars made a face, but didn’t hesitate to follow Finn when he ducked and stepped inside.
Some light came in from the entrance they stood at. A little more from the dirty windows encircling the massive building.
Enough to make out a single chair, standing somewhat to one side.
Empty. Well, nearly empty.
“Fuck,” Finn muttered, striding toward it.
“Milo, it could be—”
But all it was, was a message.
Bailey’s cellphone, blinking with the missed calls they’d made to it, neatly placed on the chair’s seat. A few ropes lay scattered on a floor stained with dried blood.
Finn picked up the phone, and hurriedly handed it to Lars in case he crushed it in his hands. Instead, he slammed the tip of his boot into the chair, sending it tumbling back several yards away.
Lars took a step back. Silent, wary.
His chest grew tighter and tighter. He swallowed hard, doing his best to push back a sudden, swelling heat that wanted to envelope his entire body.
No, not now. Cora needed him. He couldn’t…
A hand touched his shoulder. “Milo. Look at me.”
He pivoted jerkily to Lars. The man’s green eyes blazed with determination, the set of his mouth a grim line that looked so strange on a face that alway
s wore a sarcastic smile.
“We will find her.” Lars lifted his eyebrows. “Say it.”
He bunched his jaw, irritation blooming, but then gave a curt nod. “We’ll find her.”
“We will bring her back.”
Finn briefly squeezed his eyes shut. Calm was returning to his body, but with monumental effort.
“We’ll bring her back,” he parroted.
Lars slid a hand behind Finn’s neck, squeezing him hard. Finn opened his eyes and felt the last of his rage trickle from him.
“And then we’ll make those fuckers pay.”
* * *
The automotive shop’s owner looked up in surprise at the jolly jingle as Lars and Milo walked inside. The place was neater inside than it had been out — perhaps it was to dissuade would-be thieves from breaking in for the petty cash.
Milo headed straight for the counter, but Lars caught the sleeve of his jacket, halting him.
Whether it had been intentional or not, Milo looked like something out a low budget action movie. Black leather jacket, dark jeans, boots any foreman would be proud to see his construction workers wearing. But it was the look in his eyes that made the worst impression — he glared icy blue murder at everything he looked at; a fuel pump, disk pads, even an innocuous bottle of brake fluid. They’d all wronged him by daring to exist in a world where his precious Cora was gone… and that didn’t fly.
“Let me,” Lars murmured, risking turning to stone when Milo laid eyes on him. “You’re a bit… tense.”
“Am I?” Milo grated. Then he rolled his shoulders as if he’d just heard himself and took a reluctant step aside.
Lars gave him a gracious nod and went over to the counter.
“What can I help you gentlemen with?” the owner asked, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that they weren’t there for anything in least automotive related.
“You know who owns the joint next door?” Lars asked, affecting his most good-natured smile. The car guy — his name badge read ‘Johnny’, and from the looks of him, it might even be his real name — frowned a little.
“Sure. Who’s askin’?”
Which came out more like, ‘Who’s axing.’ He almost laughed at the irony. After all, if they didn’t find Cora soon, he wouldn’t have to take a guess at who’d be the one wielding the ax.
It would be Milo. Most fucking definitely Milo.
“Just two dudes.” He glanced over his shoulder. Milo was spinning a turnstile filled with air fresheners as if about to select which one he’d interrogate next. “We’re not cops or anything.”
Johnny snorted. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” He leaned back on his stool, making it creak under him, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, it’s no secret. That there building’s owned by the mob.”
Lars’s eyebrows shot up. “I see,” he said, stalling for time so his brain could restart with something useful to add. The best he could come up with was, “You wouldn’t happen to have an address, would you?”
Johnny gave a two-packet-a-day laugh, which turned into an emphysema-like cough. “’Course.” He emphatically cleared his throat. “Rhodium Drive. Posh part of town. Motherfucker of a building. You can’t miss it.”
It had to be a trap. Lars watched Johnny watching him, but couldn’t for the life of him see any indicators of deceit. Fuck, maybe this Johnny worked for the mafia, and he was telling the truth — happy to send Lars and Milo into the metaphorical jaws of a very literal death.
“So… close by then?” Lars asked carefully.
“’Bout a fifteen-minute drive.”
“Depends on traffic, right?” But his heart wasn’t in it.
“Nope. One thing Mallhaven ain’t got a lot of is traffic.” Johnny turned his head, coughed religiously, and then faced Lars again. “Drug dealers, pimps, cults, human traffickers, psychopaths… we got plenty of those.”
Lars laughed. He stopped when Johnny didn’t join him.
Milo looked up when he came near, putting down an air freshener that looked like a knock-off Christmas tree. “And?”
“Oh, uh…” Lars took Milo by the elbow and led him outside.
For a town housing nothing but psychos and criminals, it was pretty fucking cheery outside. He might even go as far as to say charming, if dormers were your thing.
“So… the head of the Irish mafia lives up on Rhodium street. Place. Road.” He shook his head. “Whatever. In the posh part of town, verbatim.”
Milo leaned a little closer, arms crossing his chest. “He told you that?”
“Worst kept secret, apparently,” Lars said with a shrug as he headed for the SUV. “Or it could be a trap.”
Milo got into the driver’s seat with a grunt of displeasure. “Gotta be a trap,” he murmured, half to himself.
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Lars said. He glanced in the rear-view mirror as Milo pulled into the street and caught sight of Johnny standing on the sidewalk.
The man lit himself a cigarette and sent a friendly wave after them.
Well, at least he hadn’t said anything about cartels. That would have sucked donkey balls.
20
Those Eyes
Kane approached the bronze SUV with caution, giving Ronan King an uneasy glance over his shoulder. The man stood there with his two lackeys, Owen and Will, as if they were seeing off good friends.
He opened the door, climbed in, and watched Cora do the same.
They stared at each other for a few seconds. A sharp rap to Kane’s window broke that intense scrutiny. He rolled it down and took the keys Owen handed him.
“There’s money in the glove compartment. Enough to cover your stay,” Owen said. He pointed at the truck’s GPS. “It’s pre-programmed with the route to the airstrip. I suggest you follow it.”
“And if we don’t?” Kane asked.
“Then I sincerely hope you’ve already said your goodbyes.” Owen took a step back and made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Mercy,” Kane muttered, giving Cora a quick sideways glance. “These guys are all business, aren’t they?”
“I’m so sorry,” Cora burst out.
Kane reeled, twisting so suddenly to her that he cringed when pain speared through him from one of his bruised ribs. “Fuck, what?”
“I should have come sooner,” she rattled off, golden eyes wide and soulful. “I didn’t know… I mean, they sent the video but… if I’d known—”
“I can handle a beating,” Kane said.
When her face flinched, he realized his words might have been a touch too acerbic.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he said, putting the SUV into drive.
It didn’t handle as well as his Jeep, but at least it was better than having to be driven.
He hated being a passenger.
The GPS came on and guided him to the freeway.
He turned off the sound.
Cora glanced at him. “What are you doing?”
“I fucking hate these things,” he said. Jesus, but his head hurt. His ribs too. Fuck it — his entire body radiated a dull pain, and he was eager as all shit to get rid of it.
“Check the glove for the cash,” he said.
Cora’s mouth moved — fucking pretty one at that — before she darted forward and opened the compartment.
“Uh…” She began counting the wad of notes.
He turned from Rhodium into Bedrock — it had to be one of the main arterials from the looks of the signboard.
The single glance he’d taken at the GPS before silencing it had shown him Rhodium drive was in a place called Mallhaven. Mercy, what a depressingly pretty place the town was. If you took the American dream, simmered it for a few centuries, and spread the reduction all over some breathtaking scenery… Welcome to Mallhaven.
They passed two guys walking along the side street headed toward the back of Ronan’s mansion, but with the sun in his eyes that was about all he could see.
“Ten?” Cora finally said
, looking up as he turned and headed the other way.
“Bucks?” he asked through a snort.
“Hundred.”
“Mercy,” he said, slumping back in his seat.
He turned into Prospect Street and found what he’d been looking for a few minutes later. He parked outside a convenience store and held out his hand. “Give me a fifty.”
Cora shelled out a bill and handed it to him. He snagged her fingers with the bill, turning and looking her square in the eyes.
She writhed in her seat as if frantic to look away but incapable.
“You want something?”
She swallowed.
“A soda, some jerky…?”
Relief flooded her face. “No… thanks.” The words came out quivering.
“Suit yourself.”
He kicked open the SUV’s door and got out. Bright morning light beamed on him as he made his way to the store. He glanced at the parked truck before he went inside and saw Cora’s silhouette against the windshield before the door blocked out the sight.
He hadn’t remembered her being so damn gorgeous. Those eyes. That neck. Her hair.
He shook the thoughts from a mind filled with sticky cobwebs and gave the cashier a big fucking smile.
“Pack of twenties, and a pint of vodka.”
While the kid got his order, he got a six pack of energy drinks from the back.
Old habits died hard.
21
One Rhodium Drive
Number One Rhodium Drive looked as impenetrable as Fort Knox. The multi-level building had only a front entrance — and no opening windows on the lower floor.
“Let’s try the back,” Lars murmured, and Finn gave a slow nod. They kept to the trees as much as possible, moving along the opposite side of the street in case anyone happened to look out of the windows and spot them.
Did Ronan King even know what they looked like?
“What if she isn’t in there?” Lars asked as they made their way to the back of the building.