The Arrangement 22 (The Ferro Family) (7 page)

I hedge, as I try to stop the tidal wave of horror building within me. “I’m not certain I understood that. Can you say it another way?”

Mel sighs so loud that she spits. She talks with her hands, annoyed. “Miss Black wants us to stay together tonight. She’s making an introduction that has connections to people you'll want as clients when you’re a madam.” Mel knows I wasn’t listening and repeats the facts, so I don’t miss anything. “Black set up the introduction, and already presented him the terms. All you have to do is show up with his spec sheet and walk him through filling it out. Oh, and she’s coming with us.” Mel flicks a finger toward Black and gives me a hopeless look.

Black wasn’t supposed to be there. That’s not part of the plan and causes a major problem for the rest of us. “I’m sorry, you’re coming?” I look at Miss Black and smile at her softly, lowering my voice to a gentle whisper. “That’s not really necessary, is it?” I touch her arm with the pads of my fingers and barely brush her skin.

Black becomes rigid, stopping mid-breath, with her lungs filling her chest. It forces her breasts to swell and push against the red fabric of her dress. Her dark eyes meet mine, and she lets out the breath slowly. “No, it’s not. In fact, I hadn’t planned on escorting you. However…” her voice trails off as her gaze remains locked on mine with an unreadable expression. Is that regret? I can’t tell.

Mel offers, “I can handle him if needed. Plus Gabe will be around, so you only need to come out if you want.”

“And I want to.” There’s a finality in her tone that closes the conversation.

I glance at Mel, and know we're both thinking the same thing. We’re screwed.

W
e were supposed
to confer with Gabe on the drive to Vic Jr.'s estate, finalize any last-second changes with Marty, and then rendezvous with Sean and Henry once we were inside the building. That’s not possible with Black in tow.

I sit at the back of the limo and trade nervous glances with Mel. Neither of us says a word as we speed toward the South Shore of Long Island. Gabe doesn’t look at us, doesn’t have any telltale signs of tension from the front seat. I wonder how long he’s been undercover because I’m ready to puke.

I twist the gold bracelet around my wrist and rub the round black bead between my fingers. Mel’s matches mine perfectly, but she doesn’t fidget. The movement draws Black’s eye, and she glances at my fingers, the stone, and then up at my face.

“You got the bracelet fitted, I see.”

What? I glance at the golden band. It's identical to my old one with one exception—it’s the right size. I forgot my original bracelet was so big I had to wear it on my ankle. Black notices little details like that, details Henry overlooked when making the bracelets.

I smile like it’s a fond memory and drop the bead. “Yes, it fits much better now. Doesn’t fall off.”

Black inclines her head, holds out a hand, and waits for me to offer my wrist. Mel carefully ignores us. If the bracelets don’t make it into Vic’s estate, then we’re all fucked. My heart pounds as I offer my wrist to the woman. She takes my hand and examines the fit, nodding and then releasing my arm.

“Well done.”

I swallow hard and say nothing. Her gaze resumes the blank stare forward. The car fills with a palpable tension the closer we get to Vic’s. When we arrive, we pull into the winding, tree-lined driveway and head toward the great house. It’s set back on the property, offering the seclusion and privacy a sick bastard like Vic needs.

My heart slams into my ribs, and my palms grow slick with sweat. I focus on the mission, trying to remain calm. If I lose my shit, I won’t be able to think. And it’s evident I’ll need to be on my toes tonight. The car pulls into the circle drive in front of the home. The façade is slate and gray stone. Lights flood across the stone, accenting the sweeping architectural lines of the building. Tall narrow trees form spires in the flowerbeds, and in the center of the circle drive is an enormous fountain big enough to swim in. It has four tiers where water trickles down into a massive base that looks more like an in-ground pool than landscaping embellishments.

Gabe stops the car and walks around, opens the door for Black. She glides out and straightens. Mel slips out next, leaving me alone in the car. Gabe offers me his hand, and as I clasp my palm in his, I feel the scrape of paper being pressed into my palm. I say nothing, and pretend to adjust my bra strap after standing. I turn briefly, adjust my bra, and stuff the piece of paper out of sight. I can’t read it now. She’ll see.

Gabe notices but says nothing as he climbs back into the driver's seat and pulls away. My stomach fills with lead, and I can’t seem to make my feet move. Death waits for me in that house. I can’t go.

Black moves in long, lean strides toward the enormous front door. Mel is behind her until she realizes I’m not moving. I can barely breathe. It feels like an elephant sat on my chest.

Mel hooks her arm through mine and leans in, whispering, “You can do this.”

I say nothing. Instead, I stare at the door and feel my stomach sink into my heels. “This isn’t right.”

“No shit, but there aren’t many options right now. We can’t abort. She’ll know we know. Fuck, Vic will know and he’ll be coming for us. This is our only chance. Move your feet. Stop thinking. Just act.”

I nod a tiny bit and glance over at her. “Is that what you do?”

“Yeah, there’s a reason why I practice with knives, Avery. Muscle memory is faster than anything else. Don’t think. Just act.”

Black is at the door, looks back at us slowly walking toward her, and rings the bell.

I whisper, “Okay. Once Marty is here, everything will be fine. He’ll get the bracelet to the security room, and Sean will come for me.”

“Right. Marty already has everything worked out. When we see him, the hardest part of this shit will be over. The rest is up to Marty, Sean, and Henry. Then you and I get the fuck out.”

I nod and glance over at her. “In case we don’t make it—”

Mel cuts me off, “We’ll make it. It’ll be fine, so there's no need for any sentiment right now. Focus. We have to stall Black and Vic long enough for Marty to get Sean and Henry inside. We can do that.”

“Black can throw the whole thing off.”

Mel glares at Black. “I know.”

“Well, then what?”

“We wing it and fight like hell.” Before we’re within earshot of Black, Mel releases my arm, pretends to be adjusting my dress, tugs at the skirt, and smooths the bodice. “And remember, surviving justifies anything. Don’t think. Just act.”

I turn toward the front door and feel an icy finger work its way up my spine as the mammoth door is opens, and light pours onto the doorstep. Miss Black’s slick voice fills my head, “Miss Black here to see Victor. I have an appointment.”

W
e’re led
down hallways by a man I’ve never seen before. I glance around for Marty, not seeing him. Panic tries to claw its way up from my gut and into my throat, but I slam it back down. It doesn’t mean anything. As we walk through the house, Mel and I follow Black in silence. The butler—dude in a posh black suit—opens a door to a room with massive windows on one end, thick grooved, floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and ornately carved moldings.

He ushers us inside. “Mr. Campone will be with you shortly. Please make yourself comfortable.” The man retreats, closing the doors behind him.

This isn’t right. Marty should have met us en route. That was the plan. I glance at Mel who seems totally calm. She walks over to the windows and looks out onto the sprawling lawn. Massive floodlights illuminate sections of the yard, accentuating an Olympic-sized swimming pool, casitas, and a tennis court. Trees form a wall of dark shadows at the back edge of the property.

Miss Black saunters across the room to an old desk and sits in the high-backed leather chair behind it. She settles in and steeples her fingers as if she owns the place.

I want to pace, but can’t. I chance a glance at Black and catch her eyes. I feel my lips tip up into a nervous smile. She looks away from me, her eyes cutting to the side swiftly. The butterflies in my stomach turn to stone and plop down one by one until I’m so nauseated I’m ready to puke. I walk over to a section of built-in bookcases and pull a thick old book from the shelf. I open it and pretend to read, carefully pulling Gabe’s note and placing it in the center of the page. There are two words scribbled hastily. Eight little letters that pierce through me, ripping me apart:

I feel my back stiffen as I close the book with the note still inside and slide it back onto the shelf. Before I can say anything to Mel, the doors open and Vic walks in with two men in his wake.

Vic is dressed in black, hip-hugging slacks and has a freshly shaven head. His eyes are hard and lifeless, which appears even more unsettling when combined with the playful smile on his lips. An icy pang of panic rushes through my veins when he looks my way. He opens his arms with a smile as if he were going to hug me. “Sis! Good to see you again. You ran off so fast last time we didn’t get to talk business.”

I force myself to calmly spit out his name. “Victor.”

Mel eyes the man wearily and scans his minions. It’s three on three, assuming Black is on our side. I can tell she’s wondering the same thing. The longer we go without spotting Marty, the worse I feel. It means nothing went right, and we’re already dead.

Vic turns toward Miss Black and laughs bitterly. “I don’t recall you being invited here tonight.”

Her steepled fingers fold together, and she looks up at him, completely calm. “Delighted to see you, too, Victor. There’s a matter we need to address prior to any further discussion this evening.”

Victor doesn’t hide his temper. “Are you fucking me over? You know what I do to people who are two-bit liars, don’t you, Black? I know you do, so what’s so fucking important you’d risk pissing me off?”

Black stands, walks directly toward me and loops her fingers around my bracelet. She yanks and the clasp pops, breaking the gold chain free. “This isn’t mine. You might want to look into it before the evening advances. I’d hate to see you spend good money on something that won't come to fruition.” She dangles the gold bracelet over his palm before dropping it.

Vic lifts it, looks at the stone. “Ladies, care to share what you’ve got here?” The response is demanded. His voice lacks the questioning tone. Vic’s eyes drift to Mel’s wrist, and, when he spots the matching bracelet, he snaps his fingers and jerks his head toward her. “Take it.”

His men walk over to Mel and rip the bracelet from her wrist. Mel doesn’t fight back, doesn’t react. Everything is going to hell when the door flies open and Marty storms in. He’s dressed in black fatigues with a gun strapped to his hip. There’s a wire that connects to a walkie-talkie in his back hip pocket. Four men flank him, and it’s clear he’s in charge, which surprises me. I thought Marty blended here.

Marty’s voice sounds hard, firm. “Sorry to interrupt but it’s necessary.” He stands at attention like a solider reporting for duty.

Hope fills my chest as Marty’s gaze lands on me. Everything will be all right now. I can finally breathe, and certainty squares my shoulders and lifts my chin. He’ll get Sean to me. He knows my backup plan too. I can do it. He can help me. I can do this, and it will all work out. Thank God. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life.

Vic dangles the two bracelets in the air and asks the men, “Do you know what these are?”

Marty steps forward to pluck the jewelry from Vic’s hands. “Yes, sir. This is the device I described. It’s housed in the bead.”

Mel realizes it before I do. As my heart sinks and denial cries out within me, she screams, “You fucking bastard!”

Mel continues to spew nasty curses at him as a guard lunges at her, attempting to restrain her. She slashes at him when he tries to pin her arm behind her back. A primal scream tears from her throat as she whirls around, knives in hand, slashing at anyone who comes near her. Two more men come forward, and the three of them force her to the floor before she can inflict any serious damage. They took her down without any effort at all. She’s dragged from the room, promising Marty a painful death. Her voice disappears down the hallway, and then suddenly falls silent.

“Marty,” I say, my voice quavering. Heart pounding I stare at him and feel my jaw tightening. “I thought you cared.”

Vic watches with delight. Black is unexpressive as usual, still behind the desk like it’s just another day at the office.

Marty’s voice is cold. “You thought wrong.”

Eyes narrowed to thin slits I scream at him, “How could you do this? After everything we went through. Why didn’t you kill me before? Why fucking wait ‘til now? Why pretend to be my friend?”

Marty glances to the side at Vic. Vic grins and gestures happily, “Go ahead and tell her. It’s a marvelous story, this one. So much potential. It’s nice to see what you’re made of, Masterson.”

Marty steps toward me and gazes down, his golden eyes hard. “Vic hired me. That part was true—all of it—but there was a tiny omission, and it’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

My jaw slowly drops as I put the pieces together. Marty saved me even though Vic Senior wanted me dead. Why? Why risk it?

Black speaks up, sounding bored, “Victor—his father—hired Marty, but his loyalty has always been elsewhere, even before Victor the elder was gunned down. You’re alive because Vic Jr. wanted it that way. Marty is a mercenary, Avery. He works for your brother.”

I mouth the word NO, but no sound comes out.

Marty remains still and says nothing. He’s not smug, arrogant, or anything. He stares straight ahead like a soldier, while Vic Jr. slow-claps, laughing at me.

“The look on your face is fucking beautiful. I can’t wait to see what comes next.” He pauses, lifts a finger, and adds, “Wait for it.”

The crack of a gunshot shatters the night.

He turns his head toward Marty, asks, “Was that it?”

Marty shakes his head. “One more.”

A second shot rings out before I realize what it means. Vic grins. “You don’t do warning shots, do you, Masterson?”

“No, sir.”

My chest feels like it’s ripping in two. I run toward the window and look out. Two bodies float facedown in the pool with ribbons of red flowing from their black clothing, tinting the sparkling water. I can make out the long lines of the trench coats from here. The belts float to the surface of the pool as the waves from the initial splash calm.

A walkie-talkie on Marty’s hip makes a static sound as someone talks into his earpiece. Marty nods at Vic Jr. “It’s done.”

“Finally! Two Ferros down. I always start with the hardest to kill. It makes the rest of the game so much easier.” He chortles a deranged fit of laughter and then walks over to me, slaps his hand on my shoulder. I try to slink away from him, from his touch, but he doesn’t let go. “Do you like to play games, Avery? Because I have a few picked out, just for you—and now there’s no one to save you. Not Sean. Not Mel. And, sure as hell, not Marty. No one.” He wraps his lips around the last two words and smiles sadistically in my face.

Terror courses through my veins, but I can’t move. I can’t speak. My hand is on my stomach as horror hits me hard.

Vic steps closer and whispers in my ear, “It's just you and me, little sister.

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