Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys

by M. S. Parker

  I listened with half an ear to everything the techs were saying. More than ever, I appreciated the fact that I had been born with a halfway decent brain. It also made me wish I’d appreciated it sooner, that I’d done something better with my life, something that would have kept me from ending up in a place that endangered my daughter.

  My phone buzzed and I grabbed for it. Carly had hung up on me after I told her to haul her ass back to the house.

  Haley wasn’t the only one who was in danger thanks to me. I couldn’t imagine my life without Carly, but if I’d just gone a different way that day, she wouldn’t be out there on the road, in harm’s way because of me.

  I swiped my thumb across the screen, the image of Carly’s face already burned across the surface of my memory.

  “Go back home,” I said, my voice ragged.

  “If you’d done that from the beginning, pretty boy, none of this would have happened.”

  Ice spilled through my veins at the sound of Ridley’s voice.

  Ridley.

  Motherfucker.

  Slowly, I stood up.

  “Where’s Carly?”

  “What the fuck is she doing away from the house, Bobby? Why’d you guys let her leave?” he demanded.

  It scared me shitless, that question. Because he wasn’t angry. His voice was shaking.

  “Where is Carly?”

  “She’s...” His voice trailed off. Then, after a couple seconds, he cleared his throat. “She’s in the back of my SUV. She’s fine. But...I had...I had to knock her out, Cantrell. Why’d you guys let her leave?”

  “We didn’t let her do shit,” I growled, turning my head to see Ryan moving closer. Automatically, I angled the phone so he could listen in. They were supposed to be tapping my phone now, but I wasn’t about to take any chances that they hadn’t started recording yet.

  “She left. And for the fucking record, Ridley, it’s your fault. Something you did made her think you needed to be followed,” I said. Even as the words left my mouth I realized it was the wrong thing to say.

  I knew Ridley had a thing for Carly, that his reason for hating me was because she’d chosen me and not him. He would never think anyone was worthy of her. Up until this moment, however, I’d thought he’d be more the type to throw me in front of a bullet instead of kidnapping Carly. Now I saw his attraction was really obsession, and that meant Carly had gone from being protected by him to needing protection from him.

  Ryan closed his eyes and shook his head.

  On the other end of the line, Ridley shouted, “It’s your fault, you lousy fucking con! If you hadn’t gone sniffing after her like she was some bitch in heat...she’s always falling for pathetic, miserable pieces of shit like you!” His voice hitched and he swore. “But that doesn’t matter now. This got out of hand. Listen to me. You fucked up and now you have to fix it.”

  If I could have reached through the phone and strangled him, I would’ve done it without a second thought. Since that wasn’t an option, I closed my hand into a fist, squeezed it until my knuckles popped. “And how do I do that, Ridley?”

  “Go to your house.” That word was filled with bitterness. “You took off to Monterey, and you saw the news report. I guess Ryan finally decided to fill you in. I asked Carly, but she was too busy yelling at me...you...” He hesitated and then in what sounded like sheer bravado, he demanded, “You know about your kid, right? That girl Carly was so pissed off about? It’s your own precious little girl, Cantrell. Seems like somebody decided to make you pay for killing that guy and he grabbed your little girl. You want to make it right? Here’s your chance.”

  “I already know about Derrell Mitchell, Ridley. He was caught on a gas station security camera.”

  Three hours south...

  With a grim realization, it hit me that the gas station was probably one of the ones on the highway leading up to the turn-off to the house Jake had left me.

  Somebody held up a piece of paper in front of me.

  Keep him talking.

  I lifted my gaze up and met Tuite’s eyes. His gaze was hard as stone. He didn’t like me, but he wanted to get Haley back, so he’d work with me. I nodded my understanding.

  “A couple hours away from Monterey, Ridley. You know what’s a couple hours away from here, man? The house. That’s where I’m supposed to be going now. Why don’t you tell me where the hell you are, where you’re taking Carly?”

  “She’s...” He stopped and cleared his throat again. “Look, man. He doesn’t want them. I know that. He just wants you. He wants you to hurt, like he’s hurt. Just get to the house. You have to do it fast too. Don’t go letting the cops know or anything.”

  I rolled my eyes at that. I was surrounded by cops.

  “You hear me?” Ridley demanded. “He even gets a glimpse of a cop, anybody other than you, and he’ll hurt the kid. I...look, man. I never wanted the kid to get hurt. He just...he wanted something that would get to you, and I knew when I heard Carly talking to Ryan about your girl that you cared about her. I figured that would...”

  I was going to kill him. It didn’t matter what happened to me after. I was going to kill him.

  “He isn’t going to hurt her,” Ridley kept going.

  “You trying to convince me of that?” I asked him softly. “Or yourself?”

  “Just get there, okay?”

  “And what are you going to be doing?” I asked, turning back to look at the room.

  My gaze lingered on Tuite and then Ryan. Getting away from this many cops wouldn’t be easy. Getting to the house that was nearly three hours away from here without a car, without getting arrested...yeah. That was a problem. But I’d do it. To save Haley, I’d do anything. I owed her that.

  “I’m meeting up with him.”

  “You...” I sucked in a breath. “Carly’s with you!”

  “I know. But if I don’t show up...look. I have to go. Carly isn’t going to wake up for a while and I...just get there.”

  He ended the call.

  The phone fell from my numb hand to bounce off the carpet as I looked up at Ryan. My entire world was going to be at that house, at the mercy of two men who wanted to see me hurt.

  My eyes met Ryan’s. “What am I supposed to do?”

  * * *

  It was a quiet, tense ride back in the plane.

  Another larger plane was flying the rest of the team down, or so I’d been told. Some of them were probably already on the road, driving. The trip could be made in three hours. If you obeyed the speed limit. Cops didn’t have to worry about that so much, so I was thinking they could get there in almost two.

  We’d gone over everything three times now and Tuite was going over it with me a fourth when I turned my back on him and stared out the window. I was ready for him to bust my ass, but to my surprise, he lapsed into silence.

  A moment later, Ryan came to sit across from me.

  “You can do this.”

  I looked up at him. He had a look of complete confidence on his face, and I both hated and appreciated it.

  “I’m a huge fuck-up,” I said bluntly. “And two of the people who mean the most to me are...” I couldn’t finish it.

  We’d heard from Ridley again.

  He hadn’t had much to say though. Just wanted me to confirm that I was on my way to the house. He hadn’t let us talk to Carly, said she was still unconscious. I made a silent vow to make sure he ended up with permanent unconsciousness.

  When I asked about Derrell Sr, Ridley had hung up. I’d taken that to mean Mitchell was unequivocally in charge.

  Part of me wanted to feel pity for Mitchell. I’d driven him to this, in a way. It was the same way I’d felt about Dale harassing me, that I deserved it. Except Dale’s dad had crossed the line. Mitchell had put his hands on my daughter, and if he found out Carly was there, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her.

  “His son wasn’t some innocent kid, Bobby.”

  I looked up at Ryan. “Be a human for once,” I griped. “
This annoying habit you have of reading people’s minds? I hate it.”

  “It’s too easy with you. Besides, I’d be thinking the same thing if I was in your position.” Ryan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “You keep going back to what you did. You can’t undo it. But if his son hadn’t come after you and your family, you wouldn’t have killed him. You did the right thing. What were you supposed to do, let him kill you? You and I both know that he would’ve killed your girlfriend anyway, and Haley never would’ve been born. And then he would’ve gone after the woman and kid you saved to begin with. You made the right choice in defending yourself.”

  I looked back at the window. The height made my stomach pitch and twist, but it was better than thinking about everything that could go wrong on the ground. For once, the flight itself wasn’t scaring me.

  “You’re right,” I agreed. And I knew it too. I knew all of it. But that didn’t make it all right in my head.

  “Okay then. You were a thug who grew a backbone, Bobby. Don’t go losing it now.” He stood up and smacked the back of my head before turning to leave.

  The deliberate taunt had probably been an attempt to get me aggravated, but I was too scared to be aggravated. Except he was right, again. I hadn’t laid down ten years ago. I wasn’t about to do it now.

  I was older. Smarter. And I wanted to think I was a better man too.

  No. I sure as hell wasn’t going to lay down. Not with Haley and Carly counting on me. I’d die before I let something else happen to either of them.

  * * *

  The cooler weather justified the heavier coat and the sweater, which was good. The Kevlar vest felt awkward and bulky, although it was a lot thinner than I would have expected.

  “What do I do if he pats me down and finds this? The wire?”

  “Let him.” The tech was fiddling with something so small I could barely see it, and then he grabbed my head, tugging me down.

  “Hey!”

  “Be still,” he snapped as he jammed something in my ear. “They told you they’d be hooking you up with a double wire, didn’t they? This is the back-up. It’s short range, but we’re already set up less than two hundred yards away. He won’t think to check your ear.”

  He had a point. I sure as hell wouldn’t have thought to check my damn ear. Gingerly, I probed it, but the tech smacked my hand again. I gave him an incredulous look.

  “Don’t mess with it.”

  Then he marched away and Tuite and Ryan took his place. Ryan looked as grim as I’d ever seen him. I wanted to reassure him that I’d get Carly back safe, that this would be one thing I wouldn’t fuck up. I just couldn’t form the words. Instead, I asked a question.

  “Anything more from Ridley?”

  “No.” He flicked a look up the hill. “Helicopter pilot caught a glimpse of the car.”

  “And?”

  He just shook his head. “No and.”

  He was lying to me. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. I wanted to argue, and I might have, but there was no time. Haley and Carly needed me.

  Sick inside, I turned to look up the hill. “What am I doing?” I muttered. “I’m not a fucking cop.”

  “No.” Ryan rested a hand on my shoulder. “This guy won’t trust cops. His son’s a cop. He knows how they act, how they work. Just buy us time, Bobby. And don’t be a hero.”

  No chance of that since I knew I’d never be the hero of anyone’s story. The best I could hope for was to not be the villain anymore.

  Ryan lapsed into silence and Tuite took over. He tapped his ear. “That mic is sensitive. It will pick up any word you say, no matter how quiet. If a mouse farts, it’s going to hear it.”

  “I’ll be sure to advise the mice of that then,” I said tightly.

  He snorted. “Don’t let him take you out of there. We’re working on putting a tracker on the car he took, but–”

  “If he tries to go anywhere, I’ll get into mine,” I said abruptly. “I mean, the car Jake left me. It’s got a lo-jack on it, right Ryan?”

  Ryan nodded.

  Tuite grunted. “Still. Try to keep him there. It gets dicey anytime people try to move and this is already ugly enough. Don’t let him make it uglier. And like your buddy here is telling you, don’t be a hero.”

  I didn’t bother to answer. I was pretty sure everyone had figured out what role I really played here, and it wasn’t the white knight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I pulled up in the SUV they’d told me to take. I didn’t know who it belonged to, nor did I care. It was a Chevy and that was about all I knew, only because I hated Chevys. Somebody had been smoking inside it, and the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the interior made my already aching head feel like it was going to come apart.

  Don’t be a hero.

  I wasn’t going to be a hero. I was going to do what I did best: cause somebody a lot of pain. I’d done it all too well from an all too young age.

  Younger than anyone in the FBI or on the security team realized. Younger than anyone alive knew.

  Derrell Mitchell, Jr. hadn’t been the first man I’d killed.

  The first man I’d killed had been my father.

  I walked in one day after school and found him standing over my mother, who’d been huddled into a ball on the floor, trying to protect her stomach while he kicked her. She was pregnant at the time.

  To this day, I still couldn’t remember exactly what happened. I could remember turning and grabbing for something. Anything. The first thing that had come to my hand had been my mama’s iron skillet.

  I could still feel it in my hands, gripping it the way I’d gripped a bat.

  I hadn’t made a sound, just walked up behind him. He hadn’t heard me until it’d been too late. I’d been already swinging.

  And I hadn’t stopped swinging until my mama had dragged herself upright and caught my arm.

  Enough, Bobby. Enough. He can’t hurt me no more.

  She’d lied, though.

  Three days later, after we’d dumped his body in the quarry, after we’d filed a report saying he’d up and left, after we’d answered so many questions, no, sir…we don’t know where he is; yes, sir…he did hit Mama again…Mama had started to bleed. She lost the baby she’d been carrying. She told me on her deathbed that it had been a girl. Even after he was gone, he hurt her again.

  The police, I thought, knew, at least part of it. They’d looked at her face, seen the bruises. They’d looked at me, seen something in my eyes. And they’d seen the hospital reports, the filed and dropped assault charges over the years. They hadn’t looked too hard for him. A few months later, we’d left.

  I hadn’t been a hero when I’d killed him for hitting my mama. I’d just been a boy who’d hated that old son of a bitch.

  It was hate and fear that drove me closer to my house now, just like it had been hate and fear and anger that drove me to pick up that iron skillet and beat my father to death.

  This time, though, I wouldn’t lie about whatever happened. I wouldn’t run away. I would do whatever was necessary to make Haley and Carly safe, even if it meant being sent back to prison for the rest of my life.

  I hadn’t even made it halfway up the stone path when the door opened. The pit of my stomach dropped out at the sight of the blonde child standing there.

  For one moment, so beautiful it almost hurt, all I could see was her. I could see me and Leah there, see that all of the shit we’d gone through had been worth it just to bring this beautiful, perfect child into the world.

  And then her lower lip trembled as Derrell Mitchell, Sr. reached out to stroke a hand down her hair. He held a gun in his hand. That gun touched my daughter.

  I was going to kill him. Him and Ridley. Consequences be damned.

  “Nice to see you decided to join us, Bobby.” He smiled, his lips peeling back to display teeth stained by too much tobacco. His face had whittled down to angles and hollows. He looked like he’d been living on cigarettes and hate and not
hing else. When I didn’t say anything, he bent down and spoke to Haley. “You know who that guy is, sweetheart?”

  Haley blinked at me and then scowled. “You said I’d see my dad soon.”

  He laughed. It was a strong, booming laugh. It sounded wrong coming from his all but desiccated husk. He pointed a finger in my direction. “Girl, that is your dad.”

  Her mouth fell open. She blinked, hard and fast, three times. Then she sucked in a breath and jerked up her chin, eyes sparkling. “Okay. So?”

  A surge of pride went through me. Not pride for anything she’d gotten from me. No, that was pure nurture. Her real parents had taught her that, and I was proud of her for it.

  Mitchell’s eyes narrowed. Then he grabbed her shoulder and jerked her inside by the arm, squeezing tight enough that it had to hurt, but she didn’t make a sound. It took everything I had not to attack him right there.

  “Get in here.”

  I started toward him.

  Before I could clear the door, he jabbed the gun he held at me. It was a Sig P229 and he held it in a rock steady grip.

  I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t want to end this before it started.

  “Take off your clothes.” The smile on his face stopped at his mouth. His eyes were dead.

  “What?” My heart thudded against my chest. I wasn’t scared of him killing me. I was scare that, without the protection, I wouldn’t be able to protect Haley.

  “Yeah.” He smiled, displaying his tobacco-enhanced smile once more. “If you’re wired, we’re taking care of it here and now.”

  I shot a look past him into the house. “If you think I’m stripping down with that kid watching, then your head isn’t screwed on right.”

  His eyes narrowed. Then he waved the gun in a vague gesture. “Shirt. Jeans. Shoes. Jacket. Leave them outside. You can keep your...” He hesitated, looking back into the house. “Your shorts can stay on.”

  “Considerate of you,” I said, baring my teeth. My mind was racing, trying to decide if I should attempt to hide the wire or let him see it.

  Remembering that I still had a back-up, I decided to take the chance. Once I’d stripped off the sweater and t-shirt, I grabbed the wire and ripped it off, holding it out for him to see.