HellKat (29 page)

One.

And she wanted to see those blue eyes again.

Kat squared her shoulders, prepared to do this her way, whatever the outcome. She swallowed the bile that had inched up her throat and focused her mind on easing the relentless terror twisting into her gut. Then she recalled her father’s dying words, and the humid, damp storage unit where she’d read his confessions and the psychiatric reports of the man who now played with her life. The day when her world had become a mess heaped at her feet.

A calm clarity washed over her as a fresh understanding took hold. Yes, her world had changed, but
she
hadn’t. She was still the same girl. The girl who had grown into a strong, confident, independent woman. A woman who, even now, could still control her own actions and reactions, if little else. The world around her could fall apart, but she didn’t have to …

And then a plan took shape, a plan with many risks. But Kat was no stranger to risk. This would simply be the biggest, most dangerous one she’d ever taken.

“Where’s Kyle?” Her words were barely above a whisper, but calm. Her stare remained locked on his, not the gun in his hand.

“I should think that would be least of your concerns at the moment.” He waved the weapon at her, self-satisfaction creasing the corners of his eyes.

She laughed a little. A quick flash of confusion crossed his face.

“Come on, Parker. We both know that’s not your weapon of choice.” His black eyes narrowed slightly as he reclined in Kyle’s midcentury lounge chair. “I’m sure you have something very different planned for me.” The spark of agreement in his eyes churned her stomach. “I want to see Kyle.”

“You won’t be demanding anything. You will be following orders, for a change.”

“Unlikely.”

He laughed at her. “It’s very likely, if you ever want to see your beloved, bootlicking brother again. Watching you two over the years has been revolting. All of your inside jokes. The way he defends you, has
always
defended you—”

“You sound jealous, Parker.”

He snorted, held the gun aimed at her chest with one hand, and pushed up out of his seat with the other. Kat stood her ground even as her knees threatened to buckle, her heart thundering in her ears.

“Give me your phone.” His empty hand, palm up, hovered in front of her.

“Why?”

He reached for her bag, but she instinctively stepped back, angling away the side of her body shouldering the tote. She read his hesitation to act. That alone told her a lot, coupled with the fact he hadn’t killed her as soon as she’d arrived at Kyle’s loft. She knew he wanted to use her phone to lure Tucker here, just as he’d used Kyle’s to trap her. Whatever his plan, he clearly wanted to stay on course. Not get his hands dirty. Yet.

“Give me your phone. I won’t ask again.”

She reached into her bag and gripped her phone. She’d never been particularly fond of Kyle’s concrete floors, but now, she loved them. She pulled out her phone and smashed the thin device hard against the unforgiving surface. Pieces, big and small, popped and rolled, scattered and bounced underneath furnishings; the battery slid into a darkened corner. She hadn’t been prepared for the heavy-handed smack to her face that dropped her on all fours and blurred her vision.

Leveraged on the coffee table, Kat reoriented her balance, cheek throbbing, the taste of iron on her tongue. She steadied herself to meet Parker’s furious stare. She dabbed at the warm blood pooled at the corner of her mouth while her eyes roamed the pristine white canvas of his starched business shirt, the narrow silk tie hanging perfectly straight. She swirled and centered the metal flavor in her mouth, then launched the red spray at him. He jumped back in obvious disgust, gawking at the contamination splattered on his custom-tailored shirt. His eyes, filled with loathing, flicked back to her, her sentence easy to read in them.

But he still hadn’t used the gun …

“If you haven’t already killed Kyle, you will.” The words, hard to think let alone speak, stuck in her throat. She swallowed the knot of emotion. “So I’m not negotiating with you. And you won’t use me to bring anyone else here. This is between you and me. And if these are my final hours, then they’re happening on my terms, not yours.”

Courage propelled her to take a step toward him.

The bewilderment on his face at her bold move empowered her. “I will make this messy. And I will make sure it all points back to you. This will not go according to your plan.” She paused. Her jaw ticked, and her lips turned up at one corner. “It will go according to mine.”

Her audacity had stunned him into momentary silence as he formulated a new plan. He’d never been one who could adapt quickly to change. In order to function properly, Parker required a predetermined course wherein each and every step followed as expected. He fancied himself a sort of puppet master with a script that must be followed by all involved; Kat had read about it in the doctor’s evaluation. When players improvised, he’d short-circuit … even kill …

Her best chance at survival was to keep him mentally off balance, constantly rerouting. She needed him to put the gun down. She needed him to want to hurt her with his bare hands. Only then would she have the chance to get close enough to do her damage.

Her eyes darted between his. She could never physically overpower a man, but she could outthink one any day of the week. And that was the muscle she had to flex right now. That, and the intimate knowledge of the precise buttons to push.

“Even if you manage to get rid of everyone standing in your way, Parker, the end for you is right around the corner. I’ve already seen to it. It’s been set in motion.” His body stiffened, face hardening further. “And you have our father to thank for that. The father you shamed. The father who always favored me over you.”

He aimed the gun at her face. Her stomach flipped and her heart hammered what she thought might be its last beat.

“What are you doing? Do you really think you’re going to outmaneuver me?
Me
? You’re not going to talk your way out of this. You’ve got nothing. He destroyed everything, because it was in
his
best interest to do so.”

She ignored the black barrel leveled at her face and instead reached for the nearby granite bar top. She tried to appear nonchalant, as if she’d had a gun in her face many times before today. But she needed to steady herself, look at something that didn’t conjure stark images of toe tags and cold metal tables.

She concentrated on the exotic granite in front of her. The bold colorful piece she’d implored Kyle not to purchase last year; she’d hated it. They’d had an animated argument, and he’d dropped the
kitten
-bomb more than once in front of the sales rep. They’d laughed and teased that whole day. That’s what she remembered most: the laughter; their arms circled around one another as they’d critiqued each and every slab.

The echo of his warm laugh in her ear faded away, replaced with the painful memory of her bitter words to him and the cold emptiness she’d been forsaken to since speaking them. Her eyes closed, as she held back the tears of so many regrets and swallowed the burn of heartache.

“Our father loved the classics. Did you know that?” she said, her voice a rough, wet whisper. She focused forward, away from Parker. Resounding silence filled the airy loft. “I didn’t. Not until I read his journal. That’s when I understood why he’d hidden a key in the binding of one particular book:
Romeo and Juliet
.”

She pivoted, slowly, to face the madman. “The book was a gift from my mother, when they were much, much younger.” Surprise registered on his stony face. “That’s right. Rose Kelley wasn’t the opportunistic, homewrecking slut your mother told you she was. My mother was the woman our father should have married from the beginning.

“But family duty and society kept them apart; it’s a familiar story. Our father regretted his mistake, caving to the pressure and marrying your mother. He regretted not living the life
he
wanted, with the woman he wanted. My mother was the only woman he loved, and she was the
other
woman from the beginning. Your mother knew that. She
agreed
to that arrangement. A condition of marriage our father insisted upon.” He stood like a statue, no sign of life except for a hint lurking behind his dark eyes. “Father wrote everything down for me. All of it. I know everything you don’t.”

Her lips lifted in a quick, sad smile. “She lived above her bakery in Queens instead of in Manhattan, where he wanted to set her up, because she refused to take his money. That’s not what she wanted—unlike your mother.”

He grunted in obvious distaste. “Oh yes, I’m sure Rose Kelley was quite the saint. Spare me the violins. Whether he was
happy
is irrelevant. Period. My mother did everything asked of her, and Father thought he could just cast her, and us, aside—for his little baker girl, for
you
!” He smoothed his hand down his shirt and straightened his tie and shoulders. “He thought he could unilaterally change the rules without thought to the consequences. I showed him the error in his judgment.”

She replayed his words in her head.

“Yes, consequences. I’m all for that.”

The deliberate thrum of her fingers on the cool stone surface filled the space with looming apprehension. Then her feet followed her line of sight as she wandered to the array of tall windows, forgetting the threat pointed at her back.

“He left me boxes filled with pictures and love letters. Police reports, crime scene photos, a bloodstained knife in a plastic bag …” Her palms squeezed at each side of her head as she shook the horrific images from her memory. “And I read all about you in Dr. Carr’s reports.”

Parker’s stunned expression reflected in the glass as muted flashes of light sparked in the distance. Black clouds rolled in to blanket the city, rinse it clean.

There would never be enough water to wash away the sins of the fathers in her family.

“Where are these boxes?”

As much as he’d tried to mask his concern, Kat had heard the thread of panic wound tight in his words. She angled away from the approaching storm to face her mother’s killer, the man who had irrevocably changed her life without her even knowing it, when she was but an infant and he was only a boy of barely eighteen.

“They’re finally where they belong, with the proper authorities. You’ll be taken in for questioning any day now.” She paused. “Along with Mother Dearest, who is every bit as sick and twisted as you are.” She stepped toward him, enjoying the wince he attempted to hide. “I think she’ll claim innocence, blame it all on you. Are you prepared for that? For her to turn on you?”

She cocked her head in an effort to catch his focus, which had scattered to points around her. She could feel him unraveling.

“I have no doubt she’s the one who wound you up, and then pointed you in my mother’s direction. There should be a price to pay for her complicity, don’t you think?”

“Let’s pretend for a moment I believe you.” He stepped closer, menace in his eyes. “It changes nothing. I should have finished this a long time ago. You have been a constant reminder of my failure that night. My failure for having listened to
him
, begging me to stop, making me promises …” Voice rough with bitterness, his head swiveled in disgust as his eyes shifted back in time. “I was so close … so very close … standing over your crib, ready …” A macabre smile slid onto his face.

“I was left-handed when I was a boy.” His eyes flicked back to Kat’s. Then he raised his fist, unfurled his fingers with dramatic flair, his eyes never leaving hers. Thick scars crisscrossing his palm and fingers came into focus. “After all the damage, I had to learn to use my right hand for everything.” The gun swayed, like a taunt, in his other hand.

He answered the question furrowed across her brow. “A knife thick with blood becomes quite slippery.”

The admission seemed to excite him.

A lone tear streaked a fiery trail down Kat’s cheek. He reveled in her torment, watched with rapt attention as the salty bead clung at her jawline, then dropped, leaving a dark stain on her blouse.

“I’ve wondered one thing ever since that night. Just one thing.”

His remorseless eyes lifted, inch by slow inch, to finally clamp onto hers.

“Would your screams sound like hers?”

****

The flashing light mag-mounted on the rooftop proved useless in the snarled Manhattan traffic.

Tucker slammed his fist on the dashboard. “We’re wasting time!”

“I don’t have a fucking hovercraft, Williams. I’m doing everything I can. The NYPD’s been notified and my guys are on their way too. They may even beat us there.” Dan pounded on his horn, cursed under his breath.

“Oh, and you’re happy with that? That’s good enough for you?”

“You need to calm the fuck down. I’ve got it handled.” Dan winced under Tucker’s hard glare. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

Tucker jabbed at the onboard GPS, eyed the map and cross streets, and added Kyle’s address to his phone’s navigation app.

“
I’m
handling this, that’s what I’m doing.” Tucker unlatched the door.

Dan yanked him back.

“You’re making a mistake that could cost Kat. You need to let the authorities and me handle this. We know what we’re doing.”

“I’m sure you do. You’re just not doin’ it fast enough.” Tucker pushed out of the car, ignoring the string of warnings from Walsh.

“Goddammit, Williams! At least take this!”

Tucker stepped back, looked inside as Dan reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a handgun. Their eyes collided in understanding, the cold steel pressed in Tucker’s hand.

“Get there as fast as you can, Williams.”

****

“Did the others?” she asked, her eyes pinned to his.

His face puckered in confusion.

No doubt he’d expected a whimper, a trembling plea for her life after his gruesome admission; but now he looked disappointed. He’d misread her tear, the one squeezed out by the rage building inside her, leaving no room for anything else.

“What are you asking?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Parker. I read all about you, remember? I know how much you liked it. The sound and smell of death. All that power; that’s what you liked most. Once couldn’t have been enough for you. Although I’m sure you had to be more careful, make it appear accidental … like Steve Kelsey and John Edmunds.” He appeared taken aback by the mention of the former JAMESCO execs. “I bet they were greedy bastards who wanted their cut, threatened to expose you if they didn’t get it.” She angled toward him, like a co-conspirator. “You gave them what they deserved, am I right?”

His face beamed with pride. He wanted to gloat, she could tell, but he withheld the admission.

Kat traced a finger along the edge of a long sofa table, admired the fastidious arrangement of objets d’art as Kyle referred to them. Some small, some heavy.

She made her decision, focused her fury.

The heaviest piece crashed through the sliders off the terrace; the next object shattered a large mirror slanted against an exposed-brick wall. She barely heard Parker’s wails in her rage-fueled state, but she glimpsed him stalking toward her. Before he could reach her, she swept both hands across the table and launched the remaining pieces in his direction. Some hit their mark, some he dodged.

They faced each other, adrenaline coursing, the gun still aimed at her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled above the storm now roaring inside the loft, tattered silky fabric snapping like a whip through the ruined glass door.

“I’m making this messy. Why haven’t you used the gun, Parker? It’s not because you’re afraid to, I know that.”

He took a step toward her, and she toward him. He stopped, turmoil rife on his face.

“You made a mistake, didn’t you? It’s your gun, registered to you. You had no intention of using it. You had other plans. You thought you could wave your gun around and I’d fall in line, follow orders.”

“You don’t know anything! I’m in control here.” He worked to lower his voice, regain his cold composure.

Kat laughed out loud. He stepped back and looked at her as if she were the crazy one.

She might be.

“Poor Parker. You’re not in control of nearly as much as you’ve convinced yourself you are.” The memory of those words tugged at her heart. “I guess we’ve both had to learn that lesson the hard way.”

“I always have other options at my disposal, and the connections and money to cover my tracks. I wouldn’t get too confident if I were you,” he said.