Mad Love (Slateview High Book 3)

by Eva Ashwood

  “What are you talking about?” I repeated, my voice a rasp.

  “We were paid to take out these three fuckers,” Eli grunted, sneering at me. “You weren’t part of the bargain. Why would the guy want to kill his own daughter?”

  Twenty

  All the oxygen seemed to leave the room in a rush, leaving the air too thin.

  What?

  His… daughter?

  The man who had negotiated with Luke Carmine to have the Lost Boys killed was my father.

  Nausea made my stomach clench hard as dozens of thoughts raced through my head so fast it felt like I might pass out. My legs shook, and I couldn’t stop staring at Eli’s bloodied face as I absorbed the full weight of his words.

  So many things made sense now. This was why my father had stopped trying to prevent me from seeing them, why he hadn’t grounded me again even though he had known I was sneaking across town instead of going to prom committee meetings. He hadn’t worried about their presence in my life because he had been making his own arrangements to end it—permanently.

  As if killing the three boys I loved would’ve made me more amenable to the idea of the arranged marriage he was forcing on me.

  Anger choked off my breath, and I could barely see through the haze that seemed to float in my vision.

  “Why the fuck would Luke take that job?” Kace asked, his voice hard. “Going after Nathaniel’s people would spark a war, no matter who paid him to do it. Why the fuck would he take that risk?”

  “He doesn’t consider it a risk anymore.” Eli grinned. He’d obviously realized he wasn’t going to live through this, so he’d decided to taunt us before the end, to lord whatever scraps of power over us he still could. “He’s been itchin’ for a fight for a long time, and he’s ready now. He’s sick of Nathaniel thinkin’ he owns this damn town.”

  “Motherfuck—”

  Before Kace could finish the word, Eli moved. And I realized that I’d been wrong. He hadn’t expected to die tonight. He’d just been biding his time, waiting for the shock of his words to break our guard down.

  His hand swept up, reaching for the gun that was still clutched in my grip. I felt all three of the Lost Boys start to move, felt Eli’s fingers close around the barrel.

  I felt my own finger squeeze the trigger, a movement so small it barely took any effort.

  Then the gun fired, and the recoil lanced up my arm like I’d been hit with a baseball bat. I staggered, and Misael caught me as Kace stood and pulled the gun from my hand.

  The room fell into silence, and Kace put his body in front of mine, cutting off my line of sight to the boy on the floor—but not in time to stop me from seeing the bullet wound in his chest.

  The one I’d put there.

  A rush of emotions flooded me, and my knees buckled. Misael caught me with his good arm, but the two of us almost went down before Kace pulled me into his grip. Bishop was by my side a second later, and all three boys surrounded me completely, cutting off the outside world. All the pain, death, and ugliness that surrounded us faded a little as their warmth enveloped me.

  “He’s gone, Princess,” Bishop murmured, stroking my hair. “Don’t look. You don’t have to look.”

  “He woulda killed us if he’d gotten the chance.” Kace’s voice was hard as steel. “Killed you. You did good, Coralee. You did what you had to.”

  Misael didn’t speak, but I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. I knew all three boys were sad and angry that I’d been the one to kill Eli. Not angry at me, but for me. They had tried to shield me from this part of their lives for so long, and tonight, I’d been dragged by the hair into the thick of it. Into the worst and most horrifying parts of it.

  And the person who had dragged me there was my own father.

  Those fucking notes I’d found on his computer made perfect sense now. Luke Carmine must’ve been selling his services to both Abraham Shaw and my dad, making arrangements with whoever paid him the most, playing the two men off each other for his own benefit.

  My dad had been in contact with Luke before he’d gone to prison, and apparently, he’d blamed Abraham Shaw for his incarceration, not Luke Carmine himself. Or he had decided to overlook that when he needed Luke’s services again.

  I clung to my three boys as thoughts crashed around in my head.

  God, how could my dad be so stupid? How could he trust Luke to carry out a job for him after the man had orchestrated his arrest? Although at the moment, killing the Lost Boys seemed to align with Luke’s interests, if what Eli had said was right. So I supposed, in a way, that did make Luke trustworthy, at least for my father’s purposes.

  He tried to have them killed.

  Murdered.

  Those words kept echoing in my mind, set off by the tangy, coppery scent of blood that filled the room.

  Shock was only really setting in now, and instead of feeling more calm, my panic seemed to grow exponentially with every breath. But I fought it back as Bishop ran a thumb over my cheek.

  “We gotta go, Coralee.” He shifted his gaze to the other two, his expression hardening into that of a soldier at war. “When this team doesn’t report back, they could send someone else after us. We need to get the fuck outta here before their backup arrives.”

  “Yeah.” Misael nodded, then grimaced as they all stepped back from me a little.

  I turned to him, my panic finding somewhere to land as I stared at his blood-smeared arm. “Fuck, Misael. You need a doctor. Your arm—”

  “—is fine,” he finished, shaking his head. “The bullet hit my shoulder, but I can still use the arm, so it didn’t hit anything that important.” He gave a lopsided grin that was half grimace. “I just need to wrap it up tight, stop the bleeding. That’ll do for now. Bish is right. We gotta get someplace safe.”

  As if summoned by his words, a sound echoed into the room from out in the hallway. All four of us stiffened, and Kace raised the gun he’d taken from me, moving toward the door as quietly as a cat.

  “Misael?” a voice called.

  I recognized it. He obviously did too, because he gave Kace a stand down motion. The broad-shouldered boy was already lowering his weapon though, and a second later, Misael raised his voice and called back.

  “We’re in here! It’s clear.”

  The noises in the hallway grew louder—the new arrivals no longer trying to dampen the sounds of their footsteps or hide their numbers. And it was a pretty big number, by the sound of it.

  Claudio Vega stepped into the room, flanked by half a dozen men. His gaze took in the scene at a glance, and then he crossed quickly to Misael.

  “What the fuck happened here? I got your text.”

  “Ambush,” Misael said simply. “Luke Carmine.”

  Claudio’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He swept the room again, seeming to take in every detail this time.

  “Why the fuck would he do that?” he muttered.

  “He was paid.” My voice didn’t shake, although it sounded thin to my ears. “By my father.”

  Every time I said it, I believed it a little bit more. When Eli had told us that, there had been a part of my mind that had instantly rebelled at the idea. A part of my mind that still, despite every available piece of evidence to the contrary, hoped my father would turn out to be redeemable. But the honest truth was, some people would never change.

  They would never stop manipulating, lying, or abusing their power.

  My father could be a kind and reasonable man. Or at least, he could seem that way, as long as he got what he wanted. But wasn’t that what a bully was? Someone who acted generous and magnanimous as long as no one crossed them or got in their way?

  But I had dared to deny my father what he wanted.

  The Lost Boys had dared to exist, to be loved by me.

  And my father had set out to make us all pay for that.

  Claudio’s eyes widened, and he gave a low grunt that I couldn’t quite interpret. Then he shook his head, seeming to comp
artmentalize his reaction to the news, and focused in on Misael.

  “You shot?”

  “Yeah.” Misael shrugged his good shoulder. “Not bad though.”

  The look that passed over Claudio’s face was the most fatherly expression I’d ever seen him wear. Worry mixed with a fierce sort of pride.

  “Come on. We’ll go back to the club. Get you patched up.” He jerked his head toward the door, then turned to the men who had come in with him. “Check our exit.”

  They nodded and slid silently out the door like ghosts. Bishop’s phone chimed a second later, and he answered immediately, stepping away as Claudio tore a strip of fabric from one of the dead men’s shirts. I helped him wrap it around Misael’s injured shoulder, and even though my stomach turned at the sight of the blood smeared over his skin, I felt better doing something.

  He was paler than normal, his caramel skin looking a little gray in the dim light, but his eyes were bright, and he seemed alert. Still, I was anxious to get him back to Claudio’s club and the promised medical attention.

  Bishop returned a second later, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “We might have to hold off on heading to the club. Nathaniel’s on his way. And he’s pissed as fuck.”

  His voice was grim, and a shiver ran down my spine, even though I doubted Nathaniel’s anger was directed at any of us. I had seen him mad though, and I had no desire to see it again. He was terrifying as a vengeful god when he was furious.

  “Come on, Princess.”

  Kace didn’t even ask before tucking the gun into the waistband of his pants and sweeping me into his arms. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, letting him hold me as we all stepped out into the hallway and headed for the front entrance.

  We passed two bodies in the hall, but I made an effort not to look at them. I was sure I would see the cloth covered face of the man Misael had shot and Eli’s limp, lifeless form in my dreams far too often. I didn’t want to add to the images that would come back to haunt me over and over.

  By the time we got outside, two more cars were pulling up. My gaze shot to the crumpled frame of Bishop’s car in the distance, and my stomach pitched. I held onto Kace tighter, burying my face in his chest for a moment and just trying to absorb the fact that he was still alive. That we all were.

  Against all odds, we were all still here.

  When I looked up again, the back of one of the sleek black sedans opened and Nathaniel Ward stepped out. I gave a little wriggle, and Kace set me down, although he kept his arms wrapped around my waist, his solid body supporting me from behind. The cracked pavement was cold, and stones dug into my feet, but I needed to stand to face Nathaniel.

  The three Lost Boys all gathered around me, their protectiveness obvious as the older man strode toward us. Bishop and Misael each stood close on either side of me, and Claudio and his men stood a little apart.

  Just like Claudio had, Nathaniel took in the sight of us and seemed to process it quickly. These men thought fast and acted fast, and they didn’t waste time on shock or disbelief.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Bishop, Kace, Misael, and I explained everything, going into more detail than we had with Claudio. I could see Misael’s father listening intently though, and I wondered for a moment if Nathaniel would stop us—if he wouldn’t want to have this debrief in front of a man who wasn’t part of his crew.

  But he didn’t interrupt once, just listened carefully as we laid out the events of the evening. His expression darkened, and when we finished, he dipped his head in a sharp nod. His gaze moved over all of us, landing on Misael last.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Bullet clipped me, but it’s not bad.”

  Nathaniel nodded once more. “Good. Because I think we need to pay Mr. Van Rensselaer a visit.”

  Twenty-One

  Claudio and Nathaniel both left a few of their men behind to deal with the scene of our attack—which I was pretty sure was going to include setting fire to the building—and the rest of us piled into two cars and headed out.

  I ended up between Misael and Kace in a car with Claudio, and the silence seemed to stretch so taut I feared it would kill us all when it finally snapped. But none of the men seemed bothered by it, or at least, not enough to speak.

  It took us nearly twenty minutes to reach my neighborhood, and as the car rolled smoothly down the wide, manicured streets, I ran my hands over what was left of my dress, smoothing out the skirt. The blue fabric was stained with blood and grime, and my knees were scraped and bruised. I had no idea what the rest of me looked like, but I knew that my half-assed updo had completely fallen out. A few pins still clung to my hair, and I ran my fingers through the tangled locks to pull them out, probably smearing blood in my hair in the process.

  My heart beat harder and faster the closer we got to my parents’ mansion, and I felt both Misael and Kace reach for me, each resting a hand on my knee. I hadn’t asked what Nathaniel planned to do with my father, and I realized in retrospect that I should have—not that I had the power to change his mind, whatever he’d decided.

  But a wave of nausea roiled my stomach as I wondered if the crime lord planned to kill my father.

  That was the way of the world I had found myself a part of, after all. In this world, you killed your enemies before they killed you. And if someone made an attempt on your life and failed, you took them out before they could try again.

  “It’ll be okay, Coralee. We’ll keep you safe,” Kace muttered, so quietly I could barely hear him. I glanced toward the front seat, wondering if he hadn’t wanted Claudio to hear.

  God, was I about to find myself in the middle of a second shootout tonight? What if Nathaniel decided I deserved punishment just like my father?

  The Lost Boys wouldn’t let him harm me.

  They’d die trying to protect me.

  Goose bumps broke out over my skin, a riot of nerves making my blood prickle inside my veins. This night was a long fucking way from over.

  When we pulled up outside the house, I gave Claudio’s driver the code to open the gate, and it swung open on silent hinges. The two cars rolled to a stop in the driveway, and we all piled out. Misael had wiped most of the blood off his hand, and the bandage on his shoulder was keeping more blood from dripping down his arm, but we all looked like shit. Kace had a cut across his cheek and a gash in the front of his shirt, and I was still barefoot, shivering in the cold night air.

  Nathaniel, Bishop, and two other men stepped out of the car ahead of us, and we all headed up the front steps. It was late, almost midnight, but the lights were still on in parts of the house. I wondered if Dad was waiting up for confirmation that his hit had been carried out, and my stomach twisted so violently at the thought that I almost hurled into the perfectly manicured hedges that bordered the steps on either side.

  I half expected Nathaniel to shoot out the lock like Kace had back at the office building. But instead, he looked to me. “Do you have a key?”

  The question caught me so off guard that I blinked at him like an idiot for several seconds. A key. It was so… so normal. So bland.

  But of course, it made perfect sense. Nathaniel was wealthy and well-connected in Baltimore’s underground, but just because he’d managed to avoid getting busted for his criminal activity so far didn’t mean he was above the law. Why bother kicking in the door or shooting out the lock when it could trigger an alarm? Especially if he had a way in that didn’t require any of that.

  “Um, yeah,” I stammered.

  I hadn’t wanted to bring a purse to the dance, so I’d stuck my key in my bra. Cheeks flaming, I reached my hand down the front of my dress and fished around, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. All three of the Lost Boys seemed to puff up a little bit, glaring at the others as if daring any of them to take a peek.

  Fortunately, none of the men with us were idiots or pervs, so no one ogled me as I drew the key out of my cleavage. I handed it to Nathaniel, and he gave me an
almost gentlemanly nod before he took it and turned to unlock the door.

  We all stepped inside, moving quietly, and my heart kicked against my ribs as I realized just how many of the men around me had weapons drawn. Both of Nathaniel’s guys did, and Kace had pulled his stolen gun from the waistband of his pants. Claudio held a gun too, and from the look on his face, I could guess whether he hoped to use it tonight or not.

  Nathaniel took the lead as we headed toward the light spilling into the foyer from a room down the hall. I knew it was coming from Dad’s office, and my legs wobbled with every step, my head buzzing like it was full of bees.

  I could try to break free from the group and run to him, try to warn him what was coming. Or I could shout the warning from here. Give him a few precious seconds to flee or prepare a defense.

  I could.

  There were so many things I could do.

  But all I did was keep walking forward, my bare feet more silent than anyone else’s as we stalked toward Dad’s office. The door wasn’t closed all the way. It hung a few inches open, spilling light into the hallway. I could hear the light tapping of fingers on a keyboard inside, but the sound stopped abruptly when Nathaniel pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  The rest of us followed, and I entered the room in time to see Dad shoot to his feet, a look of panic and anger on his face.

  “What the f—”

  He broke off when he caught sight of me, and the double take he did was almost comical. I might’ve laughed out loud if I didn’t still feel like I was about to barf. The sight he must be taking in was only funny in the darkest, most macabre sense of the word.

  His daughter, her hair and face smeared with blood and dirt, her knees scraped, her skin bruised.

  Wearing half a prom dress.

  He gawped at me for a second, looking truly taken aback by something for the first time since the night the Feds had come to arrest him.

  “C-Cordelia?” he stammered.

  At the sound of my name on my father’s lips, all three of the Lost Boys tensed, as if my dad might be able to hurt me with that word alone. The slight movement of their bodies drew his attention, and I saw his expression darken as he took them in.