Trust

by Riley Edwards

  Mac and Ava had been bickering a lot lately. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it was bothering Mac.

  “Yeah. They are fine. Reid is actually with them now.”

  Well, if it didn’t have to do with Ava, then I wasn’t going to pry. It really wasn’t my business. We shouldn’t be talking at all. He came over, did incredible mind-boggling things to my body, then left. That was the way this was supposed to go. But more and more he stayed after to chat.

  “Come here,” Mac said and pulled me to a sitting position.

  Before I knew what he was doing, he wrapped my legs around his waist and carried me to my bedroom. My common sense was screaming at me to make him leave, that this was the last thing on earth I needed to be doing, entertaining the idea of lying in bed curled into Mac. Allowing my mind to wish for things that I could never have.

  “What’s this?” Mac asked when he set me on my bed.

  “What?” I returned, confused as to what he was referring to.

  “This?” Mac held up my grandmother’s scarlet emerald necklace.

  So damn careless. I couldn’t believe I had not put that away after I wore it the other night. That one necklace was all I had of my old life.

  My grandparents owned a claim in the Wah Wah Mountains in Utah. When they were prospecting for uranium, back in the late fifties, they found scarlet emeralds instead. My grandfather had a necklace made for my grandmother as an anniversary gift. Five scarlet emeralds set in platinum. The large links that make up the chain have a patina that only comes after nearly sixty years.

  “Oh, nothing. Just an old necklace,” I answered.

  “It looks like an antique.”

  I should’ve lied and told him it was a junky piece of costume jewelry. No personal information. That is what had kept me alive over the years. But, I couldn’t bring myself to diminish my grandmother’s memory that way. I loved her so much.

  “It is. It was my grandmother’s. It was her favorite. My grandfather had it made for her for their first wedding anniversary. It is all I have left of her,” I explained, looking at the beautiful green gems sparkling as Mac dangled the necklace from his finger. “My most valued treasure,” I admitted.

  Mac had no idea the value of the necklace he was holding. Fair market price of scarlet emeralds were about ten thousand a carat. The necklace had five gems, all two carats in size. It was spectacular. If I closed my eyes, I could still picture my grandmother wearing it.

  “You should be more careful with it then. Keep it locked up and not just laying on your nightstand.” He gently set it back down.

  He must have missed it earlier when he was over. Oh, that’s right, we never made it to the bedroom. We rarely did. The moment Mac walked into my house, we normally just ripped each other’s clothes off in the living room.

  “I took it out to look at it and forgot to put it away,” I lied.

  There was no way I was telling him that I had worn it to the ballet the other night. That was a special secret. Those nights were only for me. I could sneak away and get lost in the beauty of dance. I could sit in the audience and watch the performance. I could forget. But, once the curtain fell, all the pain and memories rushed back.

  I sat up in bed, a sheen of sweat covering my shaking body. I came fully awake and reached for my throat, fingering the silver collar there. I both hated and loved dreaming of Mac; remembering our time together was the sweetest torture.

  My grandmother’s necklace.

  I didn’t have it. I forgot to get it from under my mattress. I’d been too busy crying about having to leave Mac I forgot the one thing I’d kept from my old life. I didn’t care about the monetary value—its meaning was invaluable. Irreplaceable. I scrambled out of bed; I had to call Quinn. I hoped that the guys who had come to my house hadn’t tossed the place. If they’d found it, it would be gone forever.

  The last piece of my life would be… the knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

  Shit. Had my brother’s men found me? Panic flooded me; I had to think of a way to escape. There was nowhere to go. I broke another rule Quinn had taught me, always have a way out. This motel was the only place to lodge in the isolated area and they didn’t have windows in the bathrooms. I was fucked. Completely and totally screwed. Without an escape route, I looked around for a weapon.

  Nothing.

  This was it. My past had finally caught up with me.

  I was dead.

  7

  Italians

  Mac

  “She’s in Lake Tahoe, on the California side,” Dustin said after he’d traced the number Laura had called from. “A truck stop called Border Fuel. It’s literally on the border. A four hour and nineteen minute drive,” he told me.

  I stared at the map Dustin had up on his laptop. Four hours and nineteen minutes? I could be there closer to three if there wasn’t traffic. I was formulating a plan when Reid interrupted my thoughts.

  “Let’s go. Dustin can manage things from here.”

  “I can’t let you get involved. You have a family to think about,” I reminded him.

  “I do. And you’re part of that family. You can stand here and argue with me or we can walk downstairs, get in your car, and drive to south Lake Tahoe and find your woman.”

  “Ava,” I started.

  “Will be devastated if something happens to you. And will be pissed as fuck she found out I let you go without backup. End of discussion, Mac. Get your ass in the car. We’re wasting time.”

  Pushy bastard.

  “Thanks, D,” I said to Dustin and moved toward the door. Stopping, I turned to Reid. “Hey. Grab a secure burner phone.”

  Reid’s eyes narrowed. “You think?” he asked.

  “Not Alexander. Laura would’ve been dead long ago. But something’s not right. I know it in my gut. Even with a million-dollar bounty, which is inspiration enough, it would’ve taken longer to find her. Someone else is in play. From what Quinn said, she’s been successfully hiding on her own for years. And within hours of a hit being called in, she was found. She wouldn’t have left without Quinn. They had a plan; she would’ve waited. He was setting up a safe house. She left in such a hurry she left something special behind, a necklace.”

  Without questioning me, Reid reached in his desk and grabbed two phones and followed me down to my car. After fishing Quinn’s card out of my pocket, Reid handed me a phone and I dialed the man’s number, knowing I needed to apologize for being a dick.

  “Deputy Alexander,” he answered.

  “It’s Mac,” I greeted.

  “You get one, too?” he inquired, not using Laura’s name or asking outright about the phone call.

  “I did. I need to apologize. I was a dick and you were right; my head was up my own ass.” I was actually more embarrassed that I had been so blinded by jealousy I’d lost my temper and made myself look like an ass and possibly put Laura in more danger. I wonder if I hadn’t stormed off and demanded that Laura talk to me if she would’ve caved and told me the truth about who she was and the threat she’d lived with.

  “No need,” he easily accepted. “Missed my call. I’m wrapped up in something that’s unavoidable,” he told me.

  “I didn’t miss mine. Maybe you should call me back when you get somewhere private. I’m good on my end,” I told him.

  “Are you driving?” Quinn inquired.

  “About to. I have a few days off—thought I’d get some fresh air.” I looked at Reid; he was looking around the parking lot, his hand going to the gun at his side. Reid nodded toward the street, gesturing to a car. “Seems I have company. I’d better go. Call when you can.”

  I abruptly disconnected, reaching for my weapon as well. There was a black sedan parked. Two men sat inside, dark complexion, dark hair, watching us.

  Italians.

  “You think they followed me here, or is my car tracked?” I asked.

  “Hard to say. You think those are Russo’s men or Tuscani’s?”

&nb
sp; Good fucking question. I dialed Tuscani. When his angry voice answered, I ignored his greeting.

  “This is Mac. You got men on me?” I cut straight to it.

  “You’ve got some balls, detective, calling my personal number asking me some shit,” he returned.

  “Balls or not, Tuscani, you better answer my fucking question. I’m looking at two Italian men watching me. You gotta know, I’m making my move in two minutes. If they're yours and you want them back, I suggest you speak up.”

  “I see. Because they’re Italian, they have to be mine.” He chuckled.

  “You’re down to one minute. They fucking yours?” I asked again.

  “No. But a friendly warning, you’re on radar. There’s money on your head, too.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I did some digging after you left. You’re both fucked.”

  If I didn’t need Nico’s help, I would’ve crawled so far up his ass and jammed him up on any charges I could make stick. However, I held my temper in check, knowing that he was my only hope of saving Laura.

  “What’d you find?” I ground out.

  Nico chuckled before he said, “Russo himself saw Harper on the news. He outsourced that shit fast; he wants her dead. Big mistake going to her house; you should’ve left it alone. They think you’re the man that’s been hiding her. Watch your back.”

  I didn’t bother replying and disconnected, turning my attention back to Reid.

  “Dustin is ready to lay down cover while we get to my car. On three,” he told me.

  Reid counted us down and we ran across the lot to his Rover. Gunfire rang out as Reid gunned it out of the lot. The cell in my hand rang and Reid put it through the speakers.

  “No casualties. Both men fled on foot. How do you want to handle this?” Dustin asked.

  “Watch the car. Don’t approach. See if you can run the plate and CCTV in the area. I want to know how they followed Mac. Also, pull Mac’s truck into the garage and see if there is a tracker. Keep everything you find. No use destroying the tracker if you find one. They already know where his truck is. Also, call Austin. I want him sitting on my house. Shoot any fucker that approaches—I mean, anyone. I’ll call Blaze.”

  Reid pushed the end button on his steering wheel and I watched as his jaw ticked.

  “This is why I want you clear of this,” I bit out. “I’ll drop you at home, where you should be.”

  “I’m not clear of this. Two mother fuckers were sitting outside my office. If they know you, they know me. There is not a goddamn person in San Francisco that doesn’t know we’re connected.”

  “Mother fucker.” I fought the urge to slam my fist into the dash.

  Three hours and thirty minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot of Border Fuel. It looked like any other truck stop across the U.S. It wasn’t as dirty as some, nor was it a five-star hotel.

  My gut clenched at the thought of Laura staying in some unsafe no-tell-motel with trained killers after her. We exited Reid’s Rover and all the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A tingling of awareness coursed through my veins.

  “She’s close,” I announced.

  A hundred dollars later, the guy at the desk had given me Laura’s room number—dick. He better hope to God he was telling the truth and no one else had been by looking for her. If something had happened to her in that room, I’d strangle his ass.

  I found the room and knocked. Reid stood to the side, scanning the parking lot for any unwanted attention, or visitors.

  Then I heard it, a loud bang on the wall and a scream. Reid’s attention snapped to me as I took my leather coat off and wrapped it around my arm, slamming my fist through the motel window. Using my jacket, I cleared away the jagged pieces, yanking the curtains down at the same time. Laura was standing across the small room, holding her face. A man was next to her, poised to strike again. I was through the window and tackling the man before he could hit her any more.

  My vision blurred, and red-hot rage took over. I felt the first punch connect with the man’s face and faintly heard bone crushing under the roaring in my ears. I didn’t feel the second or the third; hell, there may have been a hundred. Nothing registered until Reid was hauling me back, yelling in my face.

  “Enough.”

  I looked around at the carnage; a man lay unconscious on the floor, my hands covered in his blood. Laura’s back was to the wall; she was shaking and covering her mouth with both hands.

  “You okay?” I asked, noting her shirt was slightly ripped. The red mark on her face was clearly the mother fucker’s handprint.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

  Her words pissed me off. “Why’s that? If we hadn’t shown up, you would likely be the one half dead on the floor,” I returned.

  “You can’t be here. They’ll find you. You have to let me go,” she begged.

  She still didn’t trust me after all this time. I felt those words deep in my gut. There was a split second I thought about calling Alexander, telling him where he could find her, and leaving it to him. Her next statement stopped me.

  “I couldn’t live with myself if my brother hurt you.” On a slow blink, she continued, “I’d rather die than live knowing I put you in danger.”

  “Babe, come here.” She didn’t, so I repeated, “Harper. Come. Here.”

  Her head snapped up at the use of her real name and a look I had never seen before replaced the shock of hearing it. I felt that, too, only that look hit me in the chest. Without further prompting, she stepped around the man on the floor and burrowed close.

  “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  8

  I’d rather die

  Laura

  I heard his words but didn’t believe them. Not because I didn’t think he meant them; I knew he did. However, I knew my brother. I knew the lengths he’d go to kill me. I was a rat, and in his world the only option was death. He had to kill me. If he didn’t, he’d look weak, and if he looked weak, he was as good as dead.

  One of us had to die–it was the only way.

  Reid’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, checking the caller ID before sliding his finger across the screen to answer. “Go,” he greeted. “Right. ETA? Fuck. Yeah, we got her.”

  “Time to go. We got company–five minutes out.”

  “You both should go,” I tried again.

  I’d rather die alone in the ratty motel room than have either of them hurt.

  “Straight up, we do not have time to debate this. Move your ass, grab your shit, and get to the car,” Reid barked.

  “Think of Ava and your family,” I said to Reid, trying to appeal to his rational side. He loved Ava and his kids. He’d never put them in harm’s way, ever.

  “Right. I see you’re not getting this. I hate to do this now but again, you’re not getting it so here it is. We got less than five minutes to be gone before some seriously fucked up mobsters get here. There’s a million-dollar price on your head, and Mac’s got money on his, too. I’m thinking the men who are on their way want that payout. We’re here, we’re in it, and we’re not leaving you behind. So, your choices are: stand here and fucking talk about it and risk bloodshed or move your ass to the car so Mac can keep his shield. Choice is yours. Either way, we’re not leaving you,” Reid explained.

  “What?” I screeched. Yes, I screeched, sounding like a prepubescent boy even to my own ears. “He put a hit out on you?” That last part was even more shrill.

  “Fuck it,” Mac said. He bent, put his shoulder to my stomach, stood, and lifted me into a fireman’s hold and said to Reid, “Grab her shit.”

  I was moving to the car. Not on my own two feet but Mac was carrying me. That pissed me off. Partly because he was acting like a caveman, but mostly because I wanted them to listen to me and leave. They didn’t understand what my brother was capable of. I did.

  Mac opened the car door, my ass hit the seat, and the door slammed closed just as t
he front two opened. My bag was tossed into the back seat with me and Reid started the car.

  That was it. No more discussion. Mac had gotten his way. I closed my eyes at the thought that they were both signing their own death warrants. Being anywhere near me was dangerous. My brother was brutal; there was no one worse. After my brother took over the family, I was able to turn a blind eye, mostly. But the day I came home on an unexpected visit and saw what he was doing, I could no longer. Once I saw with my own eyes the monster he’d become, I had a choice. And my choice was to deflect. Completely and totally. My brother, being the dick he was, didn’t like my choice. He really didn’t like that I’d lived after he thought he’d left me for dead.

  Now there was a price on Mac’s head. Fucking, fucking, Frankie.

  A phone rang, and Mac grabbed it from the cup holder between him and Reid. He didn’t look at the screen long before he slid his finger across the smooth glass and put it on speaker.

  “Mac,” he answered.

  “You got the package?” Quinn’s voice boomed through the speaker.

  I fought back the urge to yell at Quinn for getting Mac involved.

  “Yes,” Mac clipped.

  “Good. I’m going to be out of reach for a while—work-related. I trust you have the situation under control?”

  “I do,” Mac answered.

  “I’ll be in touch when I can. Tell her I hope she understands why I told you.”

  Before Mac could answer, Quinn disconnected.

  “Lie flat across the back seat,” Mac instructed, twisting in his seat to look at me. He winced and added. “We’ll stop and get some ice for your face as soon as we can.”

  My hand came up to my face. I had forgotten that son-of-a-bitch had hit me. How had I been so wrong?

  “Who was in your room?” Reid asked.

  “His name was Steve,” I told him once I got myself situated in the back seat.

  I didn’t want to talk about him, how wrong I’d been to trust him and his kind eyes. I hated to admit it but another piece of me broke. What was wrong with the human race? I’d attempted to keep my faith in humanity even after my own family tried to kill me. I tried my hardest to believe that everyone wasn’t lying and weren’t out to hurt you.