Authors: Gemma Hart
Chapter
Eighteen
Marco
I sat back on top of a shipping container, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders. I was in the home stretch.
The key was in the inner pocket of my leather jacket. Copper’s sudden and violent death was international news. It was done.
And now, it was time to make Lestrade pay up.
But of course, it couldn’t be that easy. It never was. Look at what had happened to the dream of our new life in London. We had hoped all it would take was a few fake names and a quiet house. But now Halle was in the clutches of the Black Saints and I was holding a key more valuable than any gem right now.
I looked up at the sky. It was a cloudy night and the moon was hard to make out. There was only a faint glow behind a cloud.
The salty ocean smell was thick in the air.
The docks were closed and the only people who should be present were myself, Lestrade and whatever henchmen he decided to bring, and a security guard who was too sleepy to even bribe.
After a few minutes of listening to the ocean lap against the docks, I heard footsteps approach.
Finally.
I had arrived early and had hidden myself up on top of a container. I was not letting myself be taken by surprise again. This was supposed to be a simple exchange but so far, nothing in my life has ever been classified as simple.
Except loving Halle. That was as simple as simple came.
I did not want to be caught again like at the house with no advantage or time to calculate an attack.
I turned around slowly on the container so I could watch Lestrade approach from above. But more importantly, I wanted to see that glimpse of blonde, that flash of fair skin to reassure me that Halle had been brought to me.
But instead of Lestrade’s gleaming head of black hair, I saw a man with a buzz cut leading a small group of men clearly from the Black Saints.
The buzz cut stopped at our agreed upon location and turned around, scoping out the area. He nodded at the other men, directing them to their hiding spots.
I felt a bubbling of annoyance rise within me. Really? They wanted to pounce on me like that
again?
I watched as they got into position, carefully hiding themselves amongst the shadows of the containers, waiting for their prey to come into their trap. Those fuckers.
The buzz cut stood his ground in the open, waiting. I watched, expecting Lestrade to soon follow. Had he sent his men ahead to get into position?
But as I waited and the clock ticked on, it was becoming clear that this was it. These were the men that had come to meet me. Lestrade was not coming and more importantly, neither was Halle.
Rage roiled through me, making every muscle, every tendon taut with anger.
What the fuck did this man think he was doing? Did he really think I would just roll over and take this kind of obstacle as a good excuse to quit? I had just broken into a high security server vault and killed a man. There was nothing I wouldn’t do now.
I watched for another few minutes to make absolutely sure that I wasn’t mistaken. I didn’t want to miss Halle if she was indeed brought.
But when I saw buzz cut check his watch, I knew that this was it. Lestrade, that fucking traitor, had doublecrossed me.
Picking my way carefully across the container and then climbing down with silent shadowy movements, I walked quickly towards the opposite direction the Black Saints men had come.
I pulled out the black phone that Lestrade had given me.
I punched dial and listened in mounting anger as the phone rang and rang.
No answer.
I swallowed a roar of rage. I dialed again.
I had no idea where the Black Saints headquarters were. That was a closely guarded secret. No matter how badly I wanted to rampage through the streets of London till I found Halle, that would only waste time and energy and cause a lot of unnecessary attention to be pointed my way.
I wanted to attack, to fight, but I had no target. Without knowing their location, there was nothing I could do.
Hanging up, I let a growl of anger escape. I should’ve known with how fucking screwy Lestrade had been talking last time we had met that he would do something like this. He had fallen for her.
And clearly, he wasn’t ready to give her up yet.
Well, too fucking bad, asshole.
You’re time to play god over our lives was over.
For now, I knew I had to head back to the house. I needed to regroup before I headed out again. And time was of the essence since I wanted to find them before Lestrade made any drastic moves.
I broke out into a run towards the exit when I stopped abruptly, my heels scraping against the ground.
My body was literally shaking in anger. I could barely uncurl my fists. I stopped and took in a deep breath before looking back in the direction I had come from. I could still see the shipping container I had been sitting on.
Maybe I’d be leaving here empty handed, I thought slowly as I began to run back, but I sure as hell wouldn’t be leaving without sore and bloody but oh so fucking satisfied fists.
Chapter
Nineteen
Halle
“Let go of me,” I said in an even measured tone as I stared up at Tobias, searchingly. I was pretty sure the man had lost his mind.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Tobias continued, as if he hadn’t heard me. “Don’t worry about packing. I’ll buy whatever you might need for the interim. We just need to get to the airfield in time.”
I shook my head.
We stood in the sitting room. I had been sitting in the room, reading a book. Or at least trying to. My mind had kept wandering off the page and onto Marco. I had been so lost in thought, I hadn’t heard Tobias come up behind me.
I had stood up in surprise, making a small cry of shock at his sudden arrival.
He had immediately gripped me by my upper arms, looking quite harried. His gleaming black hair was not as smooth and swept back. A stray lock fell across his dark and chiseled face in a rakish manner. It was funny. If they weren’t mortal enemies, you’d think Tobias and Marco were related.
His eyes were boring into mine, looking at me with a gravity that he had never shown before.
“Believe it or not,” he had started, “I want you safe.” He held my arms tightly in his grip. “I don’t want you to get hurt. By anyone.”
I had stared at him in complete confusion. Where was this sudden speech coming from? I knew his attitude towards me had changed in the last few days. Mine towards him had certainly changed after hearing about Elizabeth. But this was different. He was looking at me with a tenderness and a sincerity that made my heart skip a beat.
He couldn’t possibly…There was no way he was…
…in love with me?
“What are—”
“I have a plane waiting,” he said, interrupting me. He looked around the room urgently as if expecting a plane to magically appear. With the sudden urgency he was exuding, I was half expecting one to actually appear.
“A plane?” I echoed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He leaned over me, his hair falling around him, his green eyes piercing with a longing that I was beginning to slowly recognize.
“You might not believe me but what I said was true,” he said, his voice low. I was pressed so close against him, I could feel the vibration of his voice against my body. “Stay with Desmond and you’re guaranteeing yourself a death sentence.” He pressed his lips firmly together, determination glinting in his eyes. “And I will protect you from anyone who can hurt you. Even if that means protecting you from yourself. I will keep you safe.”
“Do you know how crazy you’re sounding?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It’s easy to mistake danger and romance,” he said. “They both give you that same adrenaline, that same high. But the end game is very different. One leaves you dead and the other leaves you alive.” His green eyes poured into mine. “Let me show you what life without danger is like.”
I stared up at him in utter shock. “Tobias,” I said slowly. “You work for the Black Saints. You are the Enforcer for a secret and most definitely illegal organization that manipulates not just petty thugs but whole countries. How am I safer with you?”
Tobias gave me a faint smile and a gentle shake. “Exactly for those reasons,” he countered. “What can Desmond do for you besides lay his body down in protection? And what good is that if he dies in the process? A dead body against danger? You’d still be in danger! But I can keep you safe. I can keep you protected. I have resources, men, money.” He took in a deep breath, lowering his gaze. I could feel the tension rise between us.
“I could love you like you deserve to be loved,” he said slowly, his eyes rising to meet mine.
My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “Tobias, you don’t mean that,” I said breathlessly. “You don’t love me.” He had just mistaken his previous feelings for Elizabeth with me. We were both women who had fallen in love with dangerous men. He clearly was just trying to rectify an old wound.
Tobias raised a hand and gently brushed it against my cheek. I couldn’t help my instinctive flinch.
“I know I might sound a fool to you but I’m not,” he said. “I
see
you, Halle. I’m not seeing the past. I’m seeing the future. I’m seeing the kind of life you deserve to lead. I can love you.” He shook his head. “I
do
love you.”
Oh god, what was I going to do? How was I even supposed to respond to that?
“So we need to go now,” he said suddenly, straightening up.
“Go where?” I asked, desperately trying to buy time.
“Singapore,” he said promptly.
“Singapore!” I cried. That was definitely not a place I was expecting to hear.
“Singapore,” Tobias confirmed. “I have a home there. You can stay there for a few weeks until we take care of Desmond. There’s no way he can easily make it over that far. Eventually he’ll have to give up. Once he’s been taken care of, you can come back and lead a life outside of the shadows.”
I shook my head, wanting him to hear just how insane he sounded. Did he really think Marco would give up that easily?
“Let me go,” I said.
But Tobias barely heard me. He was already mentally planning the trip. No doubt he had already filed a flight plan!
Oh god, if he really took me out of the country, that might actually separate Marco and me. We were technically living as fugitives with falsified documents and passports. I don’t know how well those documents would hold up in travel. And even if Marco did make it to Singapore, Tobias wouldn’t let that stand. He would probably keeping moving me around. False names, false papers—it’d be impossible to get a hold of me. And there was no way Marco could keep risking himself by flying under his own falsified papers.
And what did Tobias mean, ‘take care of him’? Kill him? He was going to kill the man whom he had ordered into a dangerous mission just for his own benefits?
He couldn’t possibly think he could ever win my heart this way, did he?
My heart started racing.
I could
not
get on that plane.
The moment I got on that plane, all would be lost. Marco didn’t even know where I was in London. How the hell could he find me across the globe?
I started looking around the room as well. Frantic and searching, I tried to find anything that might help me escape. But there was nothing. If I hadn’t found it in the last couple weeks, there was nothing that would magically appear now.
“Let me go,” I said again, my voice louder. I tried to jerk my arms away from him but Tobias held on.
I could see his arms taut, his muscles defined and lean against his crisp black shirt.
He looked down at me. “No,” he said simply.
I shook my head. “Let me go,” I said again, pulling in earnest now. “I will not get on any plane with you. Not now, not ever.”
Tobias looked at me with a look that was almost akin to patience. “It’s hard to understand it now but you will,” he said, completely deaf to everything I was saying. “Once you have some distance, you’ll understand what I’m saying.”
Should I scream? But what good would that do? The only people that would hear me where Black Saints men.
I thought about the small secret in my back pocket. Was this the moment to bring it out? My brain raced through scenarios but I couldn’t imagine how I could utilize my little weapon to win my freedom. At least, not just yet.
Suddenly I had a horrifying vision flash across my mind. I imagined being separated from Marco for not just weeks but for years. I imagined being imprisoned in cold expensive homes with a man who was ready to force his love on me.
And would Tobias even tell Marco where I was? Of course not. Marco would keep searching for me, never relenting, but always a step behind the Enforcer of the Black Saints.
“No,” I said, not realizing I was speaking aloud. “No, I won’t go.”
But Tobias didn’t hear me. Instead he had his head cocked towards the sitting room doors which he had left wide open in his hurry to whisk me away.
We both looked out towards the hall where at the far end the gold elevator faced us.
Was he waiting for someone?
And then I heard it too. I heard something that sounded like furniture being toppled. It sounded like an elephant was walking through a china shop. Muffled echoes of things being broken and stamped on rose even up to the sixth floor.
But I knew that wasn’t what had cocked Tobias’s ear. Because it certainly wasn’t what had cocked mine.
It was the grunts.
There were pained grunts and shouts. I could barely make them out but I heard them.
With Tobias still gripping my arms, we listened to the sounds of some kind of large brawl going on below us. Was this my chance? Was some kind of mutiny happening?
It seemed unreal.
And then suddenly, we realized together that the sounds were getting closer. I could hear the sounds of men shouting and crying out in pain much more
clearly. And on top of that, I could hear the soft, echoing snaps of bullets fired through a silencer. Someone was literally fighting their way up, floor by floor.
My heart stopped in my throat.
No. Could it? Could it possibly be?
I didn’t want to let my heart dare but it was already flooding itself with hope.
There was a distinct sound of a man screaming, “FUCK!” in surprise below us. I heard another man cry out, “Christ!” before he groaned in sharp agony.
My throat tightened and I felt my eyes well up with forbidden hope.
Oh god, please…He doesn’t know where I am…How could He? But even still…please let it be….
Then, as we both looked down the hallway towards the elevator, the shiny doors opened up. And from it, stepped out Marco Desmond.
He was covered in sprays of blood. His lip was busted and bleeding and his knuckles were raw and bloody. He held a bloody gun in his hand, the metal of it nearly drenched in dark red. His black shirt under his leather jacket was ripped from the neck down in one large rent, exposing his hard chest.
At his feet was a crumpled body of a man. One of the many Black Saints men, most likely. Marco had a grip on the man’s wrist.
So that was how he had come up the elevator. The elevator required a thumbprint scan to enter. From the look of the way Marco was holding the arm, I was pretty sure it was broken.
But none of that matter when I caught a glimpse of his face. His eyes were clear and focused.
He saw my shocked face and carefully and quickly looked over me to make sure I was fine. He carelessly threw away the broken arm of the man, letting it thump against the elevator wall.