Текст книги "Fear You"

Автор книги: B. B. Reid

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Chapter Three

Lake

“I don’t think this is such a good idea.” My gaze passed over everything in sight in frantic repetition, looking for the source of my anxiety even though I knew he wouldn’t be there.

“Come on, Lake,” Willow huffed. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of him anymore, starting today.”

“When did I say that?” I shot my best friend of ten years an accusing look.

“Five minutes ago,” Sheldon teased.

That’s three words.

Keenan’s condition had only worsened, and he was quickly becoming critical. Two weeks ago, when Sheldon called me in near hysterics, she told me Keenan’s only working lung was beginning to fail. To make matters worse, after the doctor’s questioned the probability of both John and Sophia being Keenan’s parents due to their blood combination, a paternity test was advised.

Just who is Sophia Blackwood anyway?

She is the only mystery remaining in this tangled web I’ve been repeatedly fucked in.

With Keiran arrested, I wasn’t able to breathe as easily as I thought. In fact, I was more worried than ever. When Keiran came back into my life a few months ago, he came with a vengeance. As it turns out, his vengeance was misplaced, but this time I earned it.

I turned Keiran in.

I fought back.

And somehow, I knew it wasn’t over. He would be back.

“Yeah, so come on. It will be fine because we’ll make it fine,” Willow ordered. Willow wasn’t taking any prisoners. She and Sheldon spent the last two weeks campaigning for me to stay. I think there was even a threat or two thrown in there.

In the end, I relented because what else could I do? I loved them too damn much. Now here I was, about to walk the halls of Bainbridge for the first time in three weeks. Thank God I was caught up on my work or else I wouldn’t be graduating this year, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Besides,” Sheldon added, “he can’t get to you now. You’re safe.”

“But what about tomorrow? What happens when he gets out?”

“He burned two people alive. He won’t get off.”

But did he really do it? The question burned my throat, and I almost blurted it out but resisted. It didn’t occur to me until it was too late that I had no real proof of Keiran’s guilt. Sure, he was the last person to see them alive but—

The shrill of Sheldon’s phone broke through my thoughts and she immediately answered. The look of relief mixed with pain on her face held my attention as she spoke into the phone. Her side of the conversation consisted of terse, clipped answers as she looked down at her feet, sometimes only nodding. If the sunlight hadn’t picked that moment to break through the clouds, I might not have ever caught the lone tear that trailed down her throat.

“I can’t, Dash. I just can’t. I’m sorry. No. Yes. Oh, God,” she sobbed and hung up the phone. Willow and I were on her instantly as her knees buckled.

“What? What is it?” I asked fearfully. We fought to hold her up but eventually, let her crumble to the ground as we followed her.

“The doctors were able to patch the part of his lung that was failing, but it’s only a temporary fix. He’ll need a lung transplant or he won’t live a full life.”

“Oh, no,” Willow whispered with a sheen of tears in her own eyes.

“Oh God. He’s—” She brought her knees to her chest and began rocking back and forth. We were oblivious to the fact we were in the parking lot of the school. Most of the other students were inside, but there were a few who watched us while talking behind their hands.

“He what?” I urged.

“He’s awake,” she forced out through trembling lips.

“Well, that’s good news… isn’t it?” Willow asked

“Yes but—” She shook her head furiously. “Dash said he’s barely able to talk, but he did ask for one thing.”

“What did he ask for?” I asked while fighting back my own tears. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and complete desolation as she looked at me.

“Me.”

* * *

“How was your first day back at school?” Aunt Carissa asked as soon as I was through the door after school.

“Uneventful.”

If you don’t count Sheldon’s emotional breakdown in the school parking lot. I attempted to make a clean getaway to my room, but my aunt’s next words stopped me in my tracks.

“A Detective Daniels came by here today.”

A lie immediately spilled from my lips. “Oh, really? I wonder what he could have—”

“So help me, if you are seriously thinking to lie to me…” she growled and stood up from her seat on the couch, planting her fists on her hips.

“No more than you lied to me, you mean?” I swallowed down the sting of bitterness

“Lake…”

“No, Aunt Carissa. I can’t hear this right now.”

“You have to hear it sometime,” she argued.

“I know, just… not right now.” She nodded her understanding, but instantly, anger reappeared in her eyes, and I knew our fight was only just beginning.

“Why is a detective coming by here for you?”

Good question since he would know I had school. But I knew what game he was playing. I turned Keiran in, and they made an arrest, but they didn’t have a case against him unless I testified. After the shock of turning Keiran in, and Keenan’s condition wore off, I began to have second thoughts. I even tried once to go back and retract my statement to which they didn’t react kindly.

Keiran was denied bail given his record and his history with Trevor Reynolds, one of the two victims who were burned alive. The other being Anya Risdell, Keiran’s ex… something.

After I sat down to think on the possibility of Keiran’s innocence, I realized my reluctance to go through with it was more because I didn’t want him to be guilty. Keiran was the last person to see Anya and Trevor alive. After the fair, Trevor attempted to kidnap and hand deliver me to Mitch, Keiran’s father, who wanted to use me as a pawn to kill his own son for money.

The things that can occur on Monday nights…

“Lake?” my aunt prompted with a raised brow after I took too long to respond.

Shit, shit, double shit. “I, uh… forgot to tell you… the house was broken into a month ago. I’m so sorry, Aunt Carissa,” I rushed out at the perturbed look on her face.

“What? Were you hurt?” She rushed to me and immediately began checking me over.

“No, I was able to lock myself inside my room until the cops came.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she screeched. I wasn’t prepared for her strong reaction, and I realized it was the calm before the storm.

“I didn’t want you to worry. I thought you were on your book tour,” I quipped.

“Lake, you have to know I had the best intentions. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case I came back empty handed.”

“It’s too late. My hopes died a long time ago.”

“Oh, honey, don’t say that. Your hopes aren’t dead. You just need to find them again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about the burglary,” I said, changing the subject.

“As long as you’re okay, but don’t ever think about pulling that stunt again. I don’t care what you think is best for me. I am the adult, and you don’t make those decisions. I decide what’s best for us, got me?”

It was safe to say I was feeling a little bit more than uneasy when she was done. My aunt’s tongue was as sharp as a whip and could bring grown men to heel, but one would never know just by looking at her.

“I got it.” We hugged before I finally managed to escape upstairs. I released an audible breath once I was safely inside my bedroom.

One day down and six months to go. I’d be free.

Only… would I really be free?

Keiran once told me, no matter how far I ran, he would never let me go. It seemed my sole chance at a new start would come only if Keiran remained behind bars.

Even so, Mitch was still out there… somewhere. Waiting and lurking for his chance to kill his sons.

Wow. Just a couple of months ago, Keiran and Keenan Masters were cousins, and now they are brothers. Once the truth was out, it suddenly all made sense. Of course, they were brothers. The two were more alike than anyone could see with the naked eye. Keiran carried a dark aura everyone could feel, but Keenan’s was more of a shadow.

I crossed the room to my bed and flung myself on the mattress wanting the comfort of sleep, but as soon as I felt the soft material engulf me, memories burst forward. Suddenly, I could smell him. His scent still lingered in the fabric.

When I decided to return to Six Forks, I did everything I could to wash him away, starting with my bed sheets. I didn’t want the memories. I didn’t want to remember how it felt to let him push me to my limits and beg for more. But he was there, even today. When I tried to be strong, he was always there, and I fought to hide it.

I couldn’t hide it anymore.

I didn’t feel my hand move until they were already pushing into my jeans. I screamed at myself to stop while burrowing my hand deeper.

With a groan full of need, I flipped over onto my back and ripped the button of my jeans loose and shoved them down my hips much like he did the first time he touched me.

Fuck yes.

My fingers finally reached where I needed them most and slipped through the slickness his memory created. Only I needed more than a memory. I needed his touch. I closed my eyes and imagined that it were his fingers teasing my clit, drawing out more evidence of his effect on me.

It wasn’t me. It was him.

“Keiran,” I whispered, letting the lust I felt for him fill my voice.

In my head, I heard his voice ask, “You want more, baby?” just like he often would over the weeks we were together.

“Yes, more,” I moaned as if he were right here. Before I could think twice, my fingers were stroking the inside of my pussy, and I was writhing and gasping in tandem to the rhythm of my fingers. It was amazing how well Keiran could fuck me without actually fucking me.

When my clit began screaming for attention once more, I searched it out with my other hand and began rubbing furiously. That was when my phone decided to ring. I was too far gone to bother to answer, but when it rang for the second time, I felt for my jeans with one hand while touching myself with the other. I wasn’t in the mood for anything that wasn’t an emergency, so whoever was on the line was getting hung up on.

“Hello,” I growled while trying to conceal a moan of frustration. My orgasm was evading me for some reason. Sometime later, I would be embarrassed at my audacity to touch myself while on the phone, but not now.

“This is Bainbridge County Jail,” the automated voice greeted me.

My fingers caressed my pussy faster before I could fully understand what was happening.

“You have a collect call from…”

My legs spread wider of their own accord as far as my jeans would allow as the slow build-up suddenly burst forward at light speed, and then I heard his rough voice growl…

“Keiran.”

I came.

Hard.

The sense of urgency and frustration and need all exploded on a silent scream.

“Do you accept?”

“Yes!” I screamed in ecstasy from the well-needed release. I didn’t hear the silence on the other line. All I could hear was the ringing of my ears as the image of him faded away, and the imagined feeling of him touching me left with it.

After a minute of lying there, catching my breath, I realized I dropped the phone next to my head. Mortified, I picked it up, my finger hovering over the end button, but something told me not to. The very last time I heard his voice, it sounded very real and very close. But that had to be my imagination. He was in jail. He was…

“This is Bainbridge County Jail…”

…on the phone.

Oh, God.

“H—Hello,” I spoke hesitantly. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

“Were you touching yourself?” His cold voice was like a blast of frigid air, yet my body heated up as if it were set on fire.

I struggled to talk from the shock and mortification.

“Were you?”

His mocking tone and the cocky grin I knew he would be wearing replaced my embarrassment with anger.

“No,” I laughed mockingly. “I had help.” I pulled my mouth away from the phone and said to the empty room, “Thanks, baby. You were great.”

The low growl was music to my ears.

“It’s good for you that I have a sense of humor, or I might be inclined to break out of here,” he threatened.

“Is there a reason for your call?”

“I didn’t want you to forget me.”

“Too late. I’m past you and your sick sense of humor.” A knowing blush spread over my skin as I straightened up my pants.

“Is that why you were just touching yourself?”

“I—I was—wasn’t.”

“You forget… I’ve made you come, and I’ve heard you lie. I know both sounds very well. Were you thinking about me?’

“What?” I shrieked and almost dropped the phone.

“Were. You. Thinking. About. Me. When you touched your pussy?”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. He couldn’t see me, but he could hear me. “You do have a sense of humor.”

“My, my, aren’t we brave?”

“I’m getting the feeling this conversation is over so I’m hanging up now. Nice talking to you.”

“It was my voice that made you come, wasn’t it? As hard as you tried and as much as you gave, you just couldn’t find that push…”

“Don’t—”

“Flatter myself? I wouldn’t dare, but you flatter me. Do you know what it does to me to know you were touching yourself because of me? It makes me hot, Lake, and it makes me hard.”

“Well, you aren’t bad looking so I’m pretty sure there are plenty of men in there who are willing to keep you company,” I snapped. In truth, I wanted to hide the nervous lust in my voice from thinking about him hot and hard.

The line was silent for a heartbeat before he asked, “So, you’re back?”

I knew what he meant without having to ask. “I shouldn’t be.”

“So what changed?”

“Because you’re going to prison?”

His dry laugh washed over me as if there wasn’t a phone and a jail separating us. “I’m not going to prison, baby.”

“I’m not your baby,” I argued petulantly.

“You were the last time I had my cock inside you.”

“You’re going to prison,” I repeated.

“Why are you so sure about that?”

“Because you killed them, Keiran.” I stood up to pace the room, trying to get my bearings. You aren’t afraid of him. You aren’t afraid of him. “You’re sick.”

“That may be, but I didn’t kill them.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Why do you care? They wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if it had been you who were burned alive.”

“I don’t think I should be talking to you,” I said instead. He was right, and I hated it, but it didn’t make it okay that they were tortured and killed.

“Why is that?”

“Because I turned you in?” I laughed humorlessly. “Because I’m testifying against you?”

“No you’re not.”

“Oh?” My pacing abruptly ended as I came to a halt in the middle of my bedroom.

“You won’t,” he smugly repeated, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Why are you so sure?”

“How else would you feel me between your thighs again if I’m locked away?”

“That’s not going to happen,” I snapped.

“Yes, it will, and do you want to know why?”

Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why. “Why?” I asked, ignoring my gut for the millionth time.

“Because I’m coming for you, Lake.” His voice lowered, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Are you ready for me?”

No. I wasn’t even close to being ready for him. I knew what he would come for when he got out. Keiran was a vengeful person and didn’t like losing control. I took that away from him by turning him in. I swallowed down the familiar stirrings of fear and told myself if he came after me again, this time would be different.

I was different.

“Hey, Keiran?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t drop the soap.”

Chapter Four

Keiran

“Don’t drop the soap.” The click of the line told me she had hung up, but all I heard was, “Get fucked,” which was exactly what I knew she meant.

My only question was when did she grow a pair of balls? Part of me was turned on, and part of me was mad as fuck. I was losing control.

That wasn’t allowed to happen.

But I knew, once I got out of here, I would scare her back into submission. I just had to figure out how I would get out of here. Between my uncle and Dash’s parents, I had the best lawyers working my case. The fuckers wearing the big wigs denied my bail so I was stuck here until trial…

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I needed to get out of here. I needed to feed my addiction. At times like these, I wondered who controlled who and that was usually when I turned especially sadistic and went full force at her. In the past, she would always get this look in her eyes that begged for me to tell her what she had done wrong.

How did I tell her it was because of who she was and not what she had done? I had wanted to tell her many times, but what was the point? Making her wonder and worry was part of the thrill. I smiled when I thought about the day it all began…

* * *

TEN YEARS AGO

I liked to sweat.

No one ever really wanted to sweat because it made you messy and it made you smell. I liked to sweat because it was raw and because I couldn’t cry. Sweating was as good as I could give. It’s how I shed my anger and my feelings. Years later, I would learn it was pent-up aggression that I needed to release, and pushing past my limits was the way to do it, so I started with basketball. I discovered it a year ago when I stumbled upon some of the runners watching a game, and I was instantly drawn to it. Of course, I wasn’t ever given the chance to play. Not until much time had passed and my already messed up world spun on its axis, toppling me over in the process.

Who would have thought, not even the turn of events that brought me here would top the day the world really fucked me over.

It was the song.

That damn song.

And the voice that followed.

Today was the day I would meet my obsession.

No amount of training could have prepared me for this. I was so very fucked. Of course, I was only eight, so I wasn’t supposed to know the meaning of that word, but I did because I wasn’t a normal eight-year-old.

I am a slave.

Was a slave, I corrected. The jobs were gone, the men were gone, and she was gone. And I was here. Watching the little blonde bundle of happiness burst from the small yellow car, and frantically, dancing around without a care in the world or notice of anyone watching, including me.

Lily.

Wait… No. Lily is dead. I killed her.

I peered closer and realized it wasn’t Lily, but I wasn’t completely convinced. It had to be Lily.

How did she get here? And most importantly… why is she here?

Just then, she turned around, giving me a brief glimpse of her face before spinning around again, this time throwing her hands in the air.

Not Lily.

Then who?

The song cut off abruptly when an older lady, who didn’t look all that old, shut off the engine and stepped out of the car. She took the girl by her hand and led her toward the burger joint. I saw the glimpse of sadness flood the girl’s face as she was being led inside. Not long after, I would learn the name of the song and how it fit her so perfectly.

When the door closed behind them, I got the uncontrollable urge to jump from my bike and follow. I didn’t understand the need to see more of her, but I needed to meet the girl who looked so much like Lily.

Who is she? I swung my leg over my bike and stepped forward to follow.

“Hey, Keiran, wait up!”

I released an audible groan at the annoying kid who wouldn’t stop following me around. It just so happened to be we lived together too, and we were cousins.

He raced forward with a smile, but when he saw the look on my face, he came to a dead halt in his tracks, his smile dropping and replaced with a worried look. I started to smile as I watched him shift his feet and look away. Instead of coming closer, he then looked as if he would bolt in the other direction. Served him right. I needed to see the girl, but now I had to deal with him.

“What?” I yelled when he continued to stare.

“Nothing. I—I wanted to come play with you. I saw you take off with your ball. Do you think you can teach me how to play?”

“Why?” He shrugged his trembling shoulders, and I almost took pity on him. Almost. “Go away then. I don’t want to play with you. Why don’t you go draw or something?” He was always drawing and coloring, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was asking me to play with him. I don’t play.

“P—please?” His eyes lowered to the ground, but I could still see the tear escape and watched it fall onto his shirt. “My dad told me to go find you. He never wants me around. No one wants me around anymore. I think that’s why my mom ran away.”

He looked back up at me with hope in his eyes and his chest moving up and down rapidly. “I’ll be good and I’ll be fun, I promise! You won’t ever get tired of me.”

“I’m tired of you now, kid. Go away before I hurt you.” I turned away to pick up my bike but watched him out of my peripheral.

“Everyone is an enemy, kid. Everyone!”

I shook Frank’s voice out of my head in time to see Keenan’s eyes harden and narrow into slits, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fists ball. Interesting.

“You’re a kid, too. I’m not afraid of you.”

I laughed because I couldn’t help it, and I never laugh. “Yes, you are, and I’m not a kid.”

“You’re only a year older than me and—”

“Your mom’s dumb, and so is your dad. Maybe it’s better she’s dead. I could—”

I never got the chance to finish the rest before Keenan’s fist connected with my nose, knocking me down. My bike nearly fell on top of me.

“Don’t you call my mom and dad stupid!” he screamed. “She isn’t dead! Why did you say that?” He stood over me as I brought the back of my hand up to my face and then peered down at the crimson smear on my skin. 

Blood.

Instead of the anger a normal person would feel, I smiled.

The little shit made me bleed.

I let the smile drop from my face before I looked back up at him. I quickly jumped to my feet causing him to take a step back warily.

“One on one?”

“Wha—huh?”

“Would you like to play one on one?”

“I… don’t you want to hit me back?”

I huffed and let my annoyance show on my face. I was just a little taller than he was so I could easily intimidate him if I wanted, but after what he had just shown me, I no longer had the desire to. I hated weak people, but this kid isn’t weak. He’s angry… and doing a damn good job of hiding it.

“Tell you what… if you can score a basket, I’ll never tell you why I said she’s dead. Deal?” I held out my hand for him to shake and waited.

He frowned and eyed me strangely before taking my hand. “Deal.”

* * *

Present Day

“One hundred and twelve. One hundred and thirteen. One hundred and fourteen.”

Sweat. Anger. Lake.

Up and down my arms went. I fought the images of her fucking face and her smell and her voice. I needed out of here.

On my last push, I jumped to my feet and called for the guard. It was time to execute the next part in my plan. When the burly looking guard finally showed his face, I fingered the picture in my pocket with a slow smile spreading across my face.

Soon, baby.

“What, inmate?”

“I need to make another phone call.”

I went through the usual procedure of being shackled before being led to the phones. I dialed the number from memory and waited for him to pick up. I was allowed three rings to mull over my decision, and by the time he picked up, I was sure of the course I needed to take.

“Quentin, I have a job for you.”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to find Jesse Fitzgerald.”

“On it.”

* * *

“What the fuck, Masters?”

Two days after I gave Q the order to find Jesse, they came for a visit. Judging by the look on Jesse’s face, it wasn’t exactly voluntary.

I almost laughed at his attempt to intimidate me. Fitzgerald had earned my respect when he stood up to me to protect Monroe, but it didn’t mean I had to like him. After all, he did try to keep me from what’s mine. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.

I ended up laughing anyway when Quentin shoved him in the seat directly in front of me as Jesse shot him a dirty look.

By some miracle, my visitation rights weren’t taken away, which made this little meeting possible. “Did you have any trouble?” I directed the question to Quentin though my eyes never left Fitzgerald.

“Tons. The fucker never shuts up.”

“What is this about? Why am I here?”

“See?” Quentin gritted his teeth. “He never shuts the fuck up.” My gaze passed slowly between the two of them. Suspicion clawed its way out as I studied them.

“Did something happen between you two?” I’d never seen Q’s feathers ruffled before. He was about as emotionally challenged as I was. Anger wasn’t a common occurrence for him.

“No.” They answered simultaneously and then shot each other a look I didn’t understand.

“Do you two know each other?” The sharpness in my voice had both of their heads whipping back to face me. Jesse wore a wary expression while Quentin looked contrite.

“No,” Quentin sighed and took a seat next to Jesse. He shot me a look to drop it, and after I held his gaze long enough, I finally decided to do just that. For now, anyway.

“As to why you are here,” I started without missing a beat. “You came highly recommended as someone who could find things that aren’t meant to be found.” I waited for the sign of recognition and waited a beat for his response.

“So what? You need help with your history homework or something? I’m sure you can find someone willing to tutor you. You seem to be really talented at getting people to do your bidding.”

“Well then, I won’t have to convince you.”

“Convince me of what?” he gritted.

I had chosen my words carefully before I spoke. “That I will do anything I can to make you do my bidding.”

“Stay away from her,” he warned.

It was all I could do to keep my fists from his clothing and yanking him across the table where I could pummel him. Instead, I let amusement show rather than anger. Quentin tensed on the other side of the table, ready to break up the fight he sensed coming.

“She isn’t yours to protect.”

“She’s my friend.”

“And she is JUST mine.”

“You have a lot of nerve staking a claim that you have no right to. You do nothing but hurt and torment her.”

“What do you think you know about it?”

He leaned back in his chair with a smirk that held too much confidence. “Whose shoulder do you think she cried on when you were just another statistic?”

I shot up from my chair, intent on breaking his face when Quentin stopped me with a heavy hand on my shoulder and a hard look.

“Keiran, chill.” He shot a pointed look at the guards standing around the large room against the blank, depressing walls. All of their attention was now focused on our table.

“960, you got a problem?” The closest guard called out. Without acknowledging the guard, I sat back down and in my peripheral, I could see their shoulders relax and their nervous looks fade. They may have been the ones with the handcuffs and the weapons, but I was the one with the power. Just for kicks, I blew the guard who challenged me a kiss and smirked when his face and neck reddened. Nutless fuck.

“Are you done?” Quentin asked annoyed. I ignored him and focused back on Fitzgerald.

“I need you to find someone.”

“Why would I help you?”

“You know why. Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Do you really think your reach is that far?”

“I know my reach is that far, but are you willing to test it? Besides,” I continued before he could respond, “you’re already here. There is no time like the present.”

His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched, and I could read the indecision in his eyes and the moment he made it. “Who do you need to find?”

“Quentin will give you the information you need to know. He’ll also make sure you don’t try anything. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you—”

“You don’t,” he interrupted, “but you should know I’m only helping you because of her. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure until you’ve looked death in the eyes.” I leaned forward to get my point across. “Because it won’t be swift, it won’t be painless, and it won’t be reversible.”

“Are we done?”

I leaned back and watched him rise from the chair followed by Quentin, who remained silent throughout the exchange. “For now.”

He started to walk away, but my next question stopped him.

“Do you want her?” The question came out blunt and laced with my irritation with Monroe for sharing a part of us with this douche—even if it was the ugly part.

“No,” he answered just as bluntly. “It’s never been like that with us—”

“There is no us.” The growl erupted from my chest and was a shock to everyone around the table including me.

Jesse’s face was stuck in astonishment before he stated accusingly, “You like her.”

There wasn’t much that caught me off guard, but his accusation caused my tongue to feel like it shriveled and died in my mouth. “What?”

His eyes narrowed as they pinned me to my seat. “Admit it.”

“No.” A grin spread his face as he stared at me. “Please share the joke.” My patience had just about hit its peak.

“The joke is you so obviously care for her and it’s making you miserable. Tell me… how does it feel to be on the receiving end?”

I stood up to… what? Fight? To leave? I didn’t care for the way his questions left me feeling exposed. The vulnerability was worse than a kick in my nuts. “Fitzgerald.”

“Yeah?” The smirk on his face pissed me off even more.

“If you say anything to her and if you cross me, I’ll murder your entire family. Including the pet goldfish.”

His smirk was finally gone.

* * *

I placed the phone call a week later after Quentin delivered a slip of paper containing the ten digits to my freedom. The only hiccup was it wasn’t the direct line to my target, so I pissed off a lot of people including the man himself.

“Whoever this is better have a damn good reason for calling this number.”

“Arthur, it’s been a while.”

I smiled into the receiver. It wasn’t joy that brought the smile to my face. Jesse had delivered. It was a wonder what a few well-placed threats could get you. The fact it only took him a week was impressive in itself.

“Who the fuck is this?”

The generally calm and authoritative man had become unhinged. It wasn’t every day someone was brave enough or stupid enough to call making threats until he could speak with the man in charge.

“Keiran Masters.” I gave my name even though I knew he wouldn’t know who I was.

“Who?’

“That’s right. You never cared about names, did you? Well, let me refresh your memory. Ten years ago, you had a trainer named Frank. He liked to play with little girls and boys, but he liked the little boys the most. He was your favorite puppet and bodyguard. Ten years ago, there was a little boy who lodged a hunting knife in his throat, and well… no more, Frank. Does that jog your memory?”