“You think it will make you feel better, but I promise you it won’t. Watching a man drain of life is the least cathartic thing you will ever do. All it does is leave you feeling hollow. Take it from someone who knows. Keep your soul clear. Let me take on this stain for you. I’m begging you.”
Blinking rapidly, I struggled to come up with anything to counter him with that didn’t sound childish.
“Toby,” I whispered, hoping the inflection in my voice would be enough for him to understand. I was fairly sure he knew exactly where I was coming from, but his insistence he knew better was far stronger than my pursuit for revenge.
“Let me protect you, sunshine.”
When I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. I wanted to say something like, “I’m going Toby. I’m going and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” or even something really deep like, “You can’t protect me from myself.” But I didn’t get to say anything, because a whirring sound buzzed above our heads and grabbed my attention.
“Get the rifle,” I gasped, pushing against his chest.
“What?” Releasing me, he immediately looked up to the sky where I was pointing.
“There’s a fucking drone watching us.” I ran after it, following it around to the front of the house with Toby hot on my heels.
“What the fuck are you doing chasing it?”
“To see where it goes. They’re obviously here watching us. We played right into his hands and now we’re all in one place. Get the rifle from the car.” I skidded to a halt and turned to him with wide eyes as he pulled the hunting rifle we’d carted across the country out of his car. We’d transferred that thing from boot to boot because I insisted we might need it. And now we did. “What if they’re planning on blowing up the house, Toby?”
“We’ll stop it.” He pulled the rifle from its case and pulled back on the bolt, aiming it into the sky where the drone hovered. Then he pulled the trigger. Click. “What the fuck?” He took aim again. Click.
“Is it loaded?”
“Of course it’s bloody loaded. That filthy bastard who never cleaned his ute just didn’t look after his fucking gun either.” With a growl, he tossed it on the ground then kicked it to the side. “Useless.”
“It’s going. Hurry.” With a gasp, I spun on my heels and ran even faster, grabbing onto the entry gate and tugging at it to no avail. “How the hell do you get this open?” Wedging my foot in the bottom, I climbed before there was a sudden click and the whole thing moved with me still attached.
“It’s electronic,” Toby said as I looked his way.
“Oh,” I said, jumping off it and dusting off my hands. “Quick. It’s over there.”
I went to run out of the gate but Toby’s hand wrapped around my upper arm and stalled my movement. “Running out there is nuts. You just said we were playing right into their hands. Don’t you think they want you to chase the drone?”
“Not if the drone was just planting explosives, and…Oh my god, Toby. The babies. There are babies in that house! We have to stop them.”
Slipping his hold, I took off at a sprint, not having any sort of a plan as I raced off the property and into the street. All I could think was what if there was a bomb, what if I was the only one who could stop it going off? I couldn’t say any of it made a hell of a lot of sense, but since I’d survived three of Irish’s explosive attempts at the detriment of a house full of girls and one poor little dog, I wouldn’t be responsible for standing by while Irish added babies to his kill count. I had to act.
“Blair,” Toby yelled from behind me, obviously not as quick on his feet as I was. “Stop!”
As I rounded the corner and came up on a dark-coloured van that would look suspicious even in the daylight, I realised the stupidity in my actions. Toby had been right, I was coming at this all wrong, using my emotions and anger to guide me when there was a better, more logical way to get what I wanted. But all of that was too late now. The driver's side of the van opened, and a man got out in front of me.
“Nice to see you made it in one piece, toots. You were supposed to call me.”
Planting my feet, I slipped slightly on the gravel under my feet, gasping and confused. “Nick? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Blair, get back,” Toby said from behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder and found him standing with his chest puffed out like he was an animal ready to pounce.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demanded, looking between them. Nick was supposed to be on another job. It made no sense that he was here. Unless…
Nick twisted his mouth down a touch as he shook his head. “I’m just here collectin’ for a job.”
“What job? You want the money for finding Toby?” Please tell me that’s all it is. My guts twisted, knowing there was more but not wanting to believe it.
“Blair,” Toby said again, holding his hand out, trying to encourage me to move back with him.
“No, Toots. I want the money for findin’ you.”
“What?” And that’s when I saw why Toby hadn’t moved closer, coming around the back of the van was none other than Irish, brandishing a big silver handgun. “You’re working for Grey?” I directed to Nick, disbelieving. How could he? He was supposed to be my friend. He was supposed to be on my side. What the fuck possessed him to go to work for the most vile man on the planet? This isn’t happening. My world tilted and bile rose in my throat. This is not happening.
“I go where the money is. It’s nothin’ personal.”
“It’s fucking personal to me,” I hissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Does Big Jim know?”
“Jim?” Nick laughed. “He hasn’t got a fuckin’ clue. Thinks me and you are off somewhere rekindlin’ the old flame.” He sniffed, his eyes landing on Toby. “Yeah. I fucked her too.”
Toby lurched forwards, fist flying into the side of Nick’s face, sending him colliding with the side of the van before dropping to the ground, clutching his face as he spat blood on the ground.
“We all fucked her, buddy,” Irish sneered, cocking his gun right next to Toby’s head. “You ain’t anythin’ special.”
A growl rumbled out of Toby’s chest and I felt sure he was about to turn on Irish, bringing his fists to a gunfight. Knowing that couldn’t possibly end well, I flung myself into his arms, getting in between him and the barrel of the gun. “Toby.”
He caught me, stumbling back just enough to create a little distance between us and them.
“Funny,” Irish started, squinting at me in the dim light as I turned in Toby’s arms. “I didn’t recognise ya back on the docks. But now, the ole memory’s clearin’ up.” He tapped his index finger against his head “You were such a fighter. I can’t believe I passed up a chance to reminisce.” He lifted his eyebrows, leering at me, that gold tooth flashing in the moonlight. “But then, I can’t really be expected to remember all the girls I break in. You kind of blend into one long dirty fuck.” I wanted to tear his fucking face off and shove that tooth up his arse.
“You motherfucker.” Pushing me to the side, Toby lurched forwards, growling like an animal, ready to carry out my thoughts in actions. And I reckon he would have too. If I hadn’t called his name.
“Toby. Stop!”
He froze at the sound of my voice, turning to find me teetering back, a barrel pressed against my temple as Nick held me in a headlock.
“Wouldn’t do that if I was you, my friend. We’re just here to pick up Blair and deliver a message to you,” Nick said.
“You can’t have Blair,” Toby growled through gritted teeth, his shoulders so tense I thought a vein might pop in his neck. “I’ll rip you to fucking pieces with my bare hands.”
“It’s funny,” Irish said again, keeping his gun trained on Toby as he reached for the handle on the side of the van. “The boss has these big thick files on the lot of you Cartwright bastards. But nowhere inside any of them was a mention you had a daughter.”
Holy fuck. No.
The world seemed to drop into slow motion as Irish pulled on the handle of that van. Toby’s eyes went wide, I wrestled against Nick’s hold, and the door slid open, revealing a frightened woman, shaking, bound and gagged. Lucy.
Oh god.
“You bastards,” I shrieked as Toby surged forwards, grabbing Irish by the front of his shirt and lifting him off the ground, slamming him into the side of the van with his fist cocked back. I expected a gunshot, or at least some yelling about killing. But all I got was maniacal laughter before Toby growled and dropped Irish, placing his hand flat on his chest so he stayed pinned to the side of the van.
“If you harm a single hair on her head—”
“You’ll what?” Irish leered, holding up a fist. “Kill me? We both know how that will work out. I die, she explodes.”
“What the hell?” I gasped.
Toby stepped back, turned around and roared, his fingers scraping through his hair, pulling in impotent rage.
“The girl’s sitting on a bomb,” Nick explained, his hot breath on my ear. “It’s hooked to a deadman switch. Anything happens to Irish or me and she dies.”
“You sick bastards. What is wrong with you people?”
“What’s wrong with us?” Irish countered, pointing his gun sideways at me. “His family came to us for help then reneged on the deal. When we went to collect what was rightly ours, this man killed more than a dozen of my brothers. Wanna find a bad guy in this story, Miss Page? He’s standing right here.” He shifted his aim towards Toby.
“You’re fucking delusional,” I spat, hating that there was absolutely nothing either of us could do right now to get Lucy out of that van and out of harms way. We were trapped in whatever sick game Grey was playing with us, mere puppets because of my own blind stupidity. How was it possible I shared DNA with that guy?
Looking bored, Irish gestured for Toby to back up, which he did, because all he could do was comply. Each step, each twitch of his muscles was a fight against his mind, desperate to maintain control instead of giving into the rage that bubbled visibly under the surface.
“The ladies are coming with us,” Irish said, his head tilting like a bird as he studied Toby’s restrained reaction. “But you’re allowed to go. Mr Grey has a task for you.”
“What task?” Toby forced out, his words bloody and raw.
“Get your family and the Grim Order to stop interfering with our business, and we’ll quit trying to blow you up. We’ll even let your girl here live.” He inclined his head backwards to the sobbing Lucy.
“I don’t control the Grim Order.”
Irish shrugged. “But you have sway. You’re a resourceful man, Mr Cartwright, with a lot of incentive. I’m sure you’ll come through. Your daughter’s life depends on it.”
Lucy whimpered, and I heard the crack of Toby’s knuckles as he clenched his fists by his sides. I’d experienced his protection and love for only a short time. But his daughter? He’d given up so much to protect her from this. How was he even standing right now? He loved with everything he had. So fierce. So powerful. This must be killing him. And it’s all my fucking fault.
“What about Blair?”
“What about her? Mr Grey has requested that his daughter be returned to him. She’s not yours to bargain for.”
“No deal,” Toby yelled.
“Too bad for you, sweetheart,” Irish teased, indicating to Nick that he wanted me in the van with Lucy. “It’s the only deal you’re getting. So hop to it. Mr Grey will be in touch shortly.”
“Blair, don’t,” Toby started as I moved towards the van without a fight and allowed Nick to bind my hands behind my back.
“It’s OK,” I said, smiling at him as best I could under the circumstances. “I can look after Lucy while you do whatever you need to do. I’m OK.”
“This is fucking bullshit,” he argued, running his hand through his hair in agitation, the emotion and frustration straining his voice. But there wasn’t a single thing he could do to stop this without killing us all in the process. I knew that, saw the anguish etched on his face as he stood there coiled tight but unable to explode. The only option available to us at this point was compliance.
So I climbed back into that skin I’d shed while I’d opened my heart to Toby, donned my old mask of indifference and re-erected the walls of my mind, becoming the woman I was before, the fighter, the survivor. It was the only way I’d get through this.
“I’ll be OK,” I told him again, fighting the pain in my heart as I watched the fear pool in the corners of his eyes.
“Blair,” he gasped, the sound of defeat coating each letter of my name.
I’m OK. Turning away from the beautiful man who owned my heart and had somehow put together my broken soul, I sat in the seat next to Lucy and checked her over as best I could, trying to focus on what I could do as opposed to what I was losing. Just when I found it…
“You’ll be all right,” I whispered as she looked at me with wide eyes and whimpered, a scared animal sound fighting through her gag. “I’m so sorry I got you involved in this.” Her eyes shone with confusion as a tear slid down her dirt covered cheek, quickly absorbed by the fabric across her face. In her eyes, all I could see was her father mirrored right back. Oh god.
“Belt up, princess,” Irish grunted, securing the seatbelt around my waist. “Gotta make sure we take you back to daddy all pretty like.” I closed my eyes as he moved away and pulled the handle on the door.
Good bye.
“Fuck. Blair,” Toby yelled as the van slammed shut, his voice muffled as he hit against the side. “Lucy!”
The van started.
No.
I felt a surge of panic rise and press behind my eyes as we lurched forwards, our next destination a place where dreams died and souls were crushed.
Jagged nails clawed up my throat. I can’t go back there.
Memories flashed as fire and screams flooded my senses, grabbing hands, darkened rooms, the unbuckling of a belt… Don’t!
Please.
No.
Sucking in my breath, I swallowed hard, forcing it all back down, down as deep as I could, locking it back up as tight as I could, telling myself to harden the fuck up. I survived once. I’d survive again. I had to. I couldn’t let Toby’s daughter experience the nightmare. I had to protect her. Even if it was my last act on this earth. I would save Toby’s daughter.
It was the least I could do for the man I loved, the man I’d destroyed. I’m so sorry, Toby. This is all my fault.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A TERRIBLE MAN. REALLY BAD
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” Lucy shrieked, tears streaming from her red-swollen eyes when I pulled the gag from her mouth and untied her restraints. They had put us in a room much like the one they’d put me in after my last interaction with Grey. A locked bedroom where they kept the girls they classed as ‘broken in’. It had a window with bars on it and not much inside but a bed and a few items of clothing. But at least you could tell what time of the day it was and wash in the attached bathroom that held nothing more than a sink and a toilet.
“Have they done anything to hurt you?” I asked, my voice soft as I took a damp cloth and ran it over the dirt on her face, my memories coming hard and fast now. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to lock them away. I was flailing.
“Not r-really,” she stammered, her body shaking. “They g-grabbed me from my h-house and brought me s-straight here. I d-don’t understand why. W-what is happening?”
Swallowing hard, I finished cleaning her face and moved on to her hands, treating her like a child while she cried and shook from fear. I couldn’t get my thoughts straight. I’d spent years avoiding what had happened to me. Facing it by talking to Toby had only been the tip of the iceberg. Being here was bringing everything rocketing to the surface. I wanted to curl into a ball and sob. But I needed to be strong for Lucy. I would do everything I could to keep her from going through even a sliver of what I endured.
I wanted to protect Toby’s daughter with my life.
I love you too.
In my relationship with Toby, not saying that back to him was my only regret. The rest of it had been perfect, and I’d miss him during every moment I had left in this world.
If I can get Lucy back to him safely, I’ll be able to face anything.
“I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.”
Lucy pushed my hand away to stop me cleaning, her eyes flashing as her fear slipped into anger. “Dragged into what, Nikki? Tell me what the fuck is going on. Why was my dad calling you ‘Blair’ and why did you call him ‘Toby’? Who the hell were those men? And why in god’s name am I here?”
Oh god. Here goes.
“Your dad and I, we aren’t in the navy, Lucy,” I said, lifting my eyes to meet hers as she watched me intently.
It’s so hard to look at her when all I see is him.
“Are you… are you spies?” Her eyes went wide.
I shook my head, almost laughing at the suggestion. She was so innocent. “It’s worse than that. We… we’re criminals. Your father is a thief and I’m a private investigator. But not the good kind. I’m the kind who hunts people down who are hiding from the bad guys. You know, so they don’t testify in court.”
She pulled her hands from mine as if she’d been burnt. “What the fuck? No. No. That’s not true. Dad would never….”
“I’m sorry, Lucy. It’s the truth. He was trying to protect you by keeping you away. He never wanted you involved in this life.”
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, a lifetime of believing her father was a hero so ingrained that she couldn’t see him any other way.
“Whether or not you believe me isn’t really the issue. The fact that you’re here should be evidence enough.”
“Why am I here?”
“Because a very bad man wants to hurt your father, he figured taking you was the best way to do that.”
“What bad man? I’m an adult Nikki, Blair—whatever the fuck your name is. Explain this to me.”
“I’m trying.” I swallowed. It really wasn’t easy spilling the details of what Toby and I did to a regular person. The details made us sound like the bad guys, and while we weren’t exactly good, we weren’t evil either. To me, my job was pretty normal, as was Toby’s. “Your father did something that pissed off a smuggler. That smuggler wants revenge. So, we came here planning to kill him before he could get us.”
Fool's Paradise (Cartwright Brothers Book 5) Page 19