Bad Blood (Lone Star Mobster Book 5) Page 4

  “So you know him?” Mary frowned. “My grandfather, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I’ve had the misfortune of makin’ his acquaintance.”

  “You met him at a business function?” Maybe Chase worked in the same industry as Tucker?

  “You could say that.”

  “I did.”

  His lips twitched.

  “So why are you taking me? Is this some corporate espionage deal? You’ll hand me over in exchange for information?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  Mary gritted her teeth. She’d had enough of cryptic answers.

  “If I were you, I’d negotiate a deal soon.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, my grandfather will come for me, and when he does, he won’t be happy with you.”

  Mary had witnessed Tucker Cobb’s temper on a couple of occasions, and it had been truly frightening. She did her best to never get on his bad side, and from what she could tell, his employees did the same.

  Chase smirked. “Believe me, I’m countin’ on it, princess.”

  ***

  “Hello?”

  Later on, Chase called his father who answered on the first ring. He’d been rocketing down the highway most of the night.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve got her.”

  Mary had fallen asleep, and her head lolled against the window. She was probably exhausted from the ordeal.

  His little captive was prettier than he imagined. She couldn’t be more than twenty-one, and at twenty-nine, he had a few years on her. Although, Chase didn’t know why the difference stuck in his mind.

  “She put up much of a fight?”

  “Naw, she was real cooperative, all things considered.”

  He’d followed them all the way from Texas, biding his time. He’d tried to grab her at the restaurant, but her bodyguard had gotten in the way. This time, she hadn’t slipped through his fingers.

  They’d sent foot soldiers after Mary a while back. Two had come back empty-handed, and they hadn’t heard from the other one again. The man was probably in a landfill somewhere.

  So Chase had gone after the prize himself this time. When you want somethin’ done right, do it yourself. He should’ve handled this months ago, then it would all be over and done with.

  “Excellent, bring her to me.”

  Never gonna happen.

  “She’ll be staying with me, but you’re welcome to stop by my place anytime.” Chase didn’t trust his father.

  “Boy, don’t—”

  “I ain’t been a boy for a long damn time, Dad. I got her like you asked, and since I did the legwork on this latest operation, I’m in charge of Mary Cobb.”

  There was a long pause on the phone line and Chase waited it out. This time, he wouldn’t back down.

  “Sounds like your sweet on her.”

  Even he had to admit, Mary was beautiful with pale skin, big blue eyes, and flowing brown hair. She had a classic bone structure and not even time would diminish her looks. Mary had a slender body and he’d caught himself wondering what she looked like beneath all of those layers.

  “I ain’t got no love for Cobb’s granddaughter.”

  “Good, don’t get any ideas about playin’ her white knight. By the way, Harry offered to take her, too, if you can’t be objective about this.”

  “Fuck no. Like I said, the girl stays with me.” Chase had never liked Harry. The mobster was a real asshole with a nasty temper.

  “Remember, she’s a bargainin’ chip, nothin’ more than a means to an end.”

  “I understand. However, we’ll return her safe and sound.”

  Noah grumbled under his breath. “Fine, have it your way, choir boy.”

  Chase shook his head.

  Noah used the term as an insult, as though having a conscience was a terrible thing. Other men in the outfit pursued prostitution and drugs as a way of earning a living, while Chase preferred bookmaking. In his mind, it wasn’t as shameful, but he was probably kidding himself.

  “So what’s the plan? Keep her a few days, and then we make an exchange? Her for him?” Chase was eager to get this particular show on the road.

  “Yeah.”

  “And what about the outfit? You don’t imagine Byron Beauregard is gonna let Tucker go without kickin’ up a fuss?”

  His father chuckled. “You haven’t done your homework. He’s been movin’ up in the organization, and I think he’s lookin’ for an opportunity to slide up another rung. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gift-wrapped Tucker and placed him on our doorstep.”

  “So you don’t think he’ll retaliate?” Maybe this would be easier than he’d anticipated.

  Wouldn’t that be nice for a change?

  “Oh, he’ll make a token protest. I’ll have to give him some sort of concession in return, and then we’ll have peace again. Then we’ll return to business as usual, provided you don’t fuck this up.”

  “And what if Tucker isn’t responsible for Faith’s death?” The thought had been gnawing at him for weeks. Chase couldn’t rest until his sister’s murderer had been punished and he doubted the feds would get it done. Besides, he wanted the satisfaction of putting the man in the ground. He owed it to Faith.

  Although, Chase should’ve prevented it from happening in the first place. Maybe if he hadn’t gone off to play soldier boy, she’d still be alive.

  “Trust me, the bastard did it.” And then his father hung up.

  “You’d better be right, old man,” Chase muttered to himself.

  He was left with the hum of his engine and the sleeping passenger beside him.

  From the way she’d asked him about corporate espionage, Chase doubted she had a clue what her granddad did for a living, and he wouldn’t be the one who disillusioned her.

  Chase was a teen when he stumbled upon his father rinsing blood off his hands in the kitchen sink in the middle of the night. After a terrifying talk with his dad, everything had slid into place, and Chase had never been the same since.

  Once Mary figured it out, her world would shatter too.

  There was something innocent about her. Against all the odds, Mary Cobb was untouched by any of this ugliness, and he intended to keep her in the clear.

  She mumbled something in her sleep and then shifted closer to him. On instinct, he reached for her and then pulled back as though he’d been stung.

  What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

  For all intents and purposes, he was her jailor and should keep his goddamn hands to himself. He’d never forced himself on a woman, and he wasn’t about to start blurring those lines now.

  She ain’t yours to hold, Chase.

  ***

  Mary heard a groaning whine as the heater kicked on. She rolled over in bed, and the mattress springs beneath her squeaked.

  That’s weird.

  Mary had a brand new feather top mattress, and it was a lot like sleeping on top of a fluffy white cloud. This thing felt like chicken wire wrapped in cotton balls.

  This isn’t my bed.

  She blinked, waking up, all groggy and disoriented.

  Where am I?

  And then she remembered what had happened.

  She’d been abducted, and Ten was bleeding on the floor of her apartment. Mary sat up in bed and glanced at her surroundings, trying to make sense of the situation. There was a grayish morning light visible through the yellow curtain.

  She appeared to be in some kind of low rent hotel room. It was pretty standard—a bed, a sink on the far wall, a television, a nightstand. Chase must’ve stopped driving to get some sleep. The last thing she remembered was sitting next to him in the SUV as they rumbled down the highway.

  Across from her, sprawled on a rickety wooden chair, sat Chase. He’d wrapped his arms around himself, and his head lolled to one side. His gun lay within easy reach on the table, but the door was only eight short feet away.

  I could make a run for it and then call for help.

  Al
l she had to do was sneak past him and dash to the front office. From there, she could call the police and her grandfather. In a few short hours, she’d be in Boston, back where she belonged.

  All I have to do is get through the next ten minutes.

  Mary often psyched herself up like this, pushing through writing the next two pages of a paper, the next question on a test. Chunking massive problems into short, manageable tasks helped.

  I can do this.

  Mary carefully sat up in bed and peeled the covers down the length of her body. She was relieved to see her clothing was in place, so Chase hadn’t undressed her. He didn’t strike her as a rapist, but she didn’t trust him either. She placed her feet on the floor and stood up, but the bed creaked in protest.

  Oh no!

  Chase snuffled, shifting in the chair and Mary stayed perfectly still. His breathing settled into a rhythmic pattern once more.

  Mary sighed and then she gingerly walked toward the door, taking slow, measured steps.

  That’s it. Put one foot in front of the other. Focus on getting to the door handle.

  But she paused by the table, staring at the gun.

  A weapon wouldn’t hurt.

  Mary had never shot one before, but the prospect of having some protection was attractive. Her former bodyguard, Justice, had taken her on a self-defense shopping trip, but she’d stupidly packed the pepper spray and whistle he’d given her when she should’ve kept it on her person.

  If I make it out of this alive, I’ll always keep a weapon with me.

  Mary reached for the gun, and a hand clamped around her wrist.

  She hissed in shock.

  “And what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Saving myself.” Mary kicked him in the shin and grasped the gun. She pointed it at him and then backed away, edging toward the exit.

  “Easy there.” Chase held up his arms but still approached her.

  “Don’t come any closer.” Her hand shook, and the gun felt so heavy, like an anvil, weighing her down.

  “I can’t, Mary, I’ve got a job to do. You’re comin’ with me, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “I just wanna leave.” The door was directly behind her, she only had to make it a few more steps. “I walk out, and we both go our separate ways. I won’t even tell anyone what you did.” Somehow, she doubted Ten would be so forgiving, though Mary didn’t mention it.

  “I know, but I can’t let you. I promised my father I’d bring you to him.”

  “Why? What does he want with me?”

  “This is about your granddad, not you. Not really.”

  “Why? What did he do to you? Or your father?” As far as Mary was concerned, her granddad was a nice elderly man and none of this made any sense.

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss it, but I can’t let you go. The only way you can stop me is to shoot me.” Chase held out a hand. “What’s it gonna be?”

  Shoot him? I can’t do that.

  “We both know you aren’t a murderer.” Chase kept getting closer and closer.

  “Stop where you are.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “A murderer?”

  If her life was in jeopardy, could she pull the trigger? Mary didn’t know for sure.

  “Yes, I’ve killed men before. I’ve taken lives in the line of duty, and on one other occasion.”

  The line of duty? Had he been a cop? Or a soldier?

  “I want to save lives, not take them, so please don’t make me do this.” Mary raised the gun, but her voice wavered. Even she didn’t believe her own words. Shooting someone went against everything she held dear.

  “Earlier, I meant what I said. I ain’t gonna harm you.”

  “And how do I know if I can trust you?”

  “You don’t.”

  Mary clutched the weapon.

  “Come on, Mary, you don’t wanna do this.”

  “No, I don’t. In college, I volunteered at a hospital. I didn’t get to treat any patients, but I interacted with a lot of them.”

  She’d volunteered in the surgical wing, working in the waiting room. She’d been responsible for making families more comfortable while they waited for news on their loved ones. Over the months she spent there, Mary had seen a lot of gunshot wounds. Many of the victims hadn’t made it, and the news had devastated their families.

  “Please give it to me.”

  She swallowed, staring at his palm.

  “Come on.”

  Reluctantly, Mary handed the gun over, and Chase tucked the weapon into his back pocket.

  She was torn. Mary didn’t know whether to be proud of her moral standards or kick herself for the sheer stupidity of giving in.

  “You saw gunshot victims?”

  Mary nodded. “And it was…awful.”

  It’s one thing to read about death in the paper, and it’s another to watch a family weep after learning their loved one had been murdered.

  “Yeah, it is.” Chase sighed. “Never figured you’d be so tricky. Next time, I won’t let my guard down.”

  And what if he kills me?

  No, the guys are coming for me. Especially Ten. And when he caught up with Chase, her abductor would be sorry.

  Chapter Four

  “You need to eat somethin’ to keep your strength up.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Mary picked at her food, pushing a piece of sausage around her plate. So far, she’d only eaten a couple bites of pancake.

  Meanwhile, Chase was powering through an omelet with a side order of guilt. He felt like an asshole for taking Mary away from Harvard.

  His conscience punched him right in the gut.

  He was supposed to protect people like Mary, not deliver them to mobsters. For a long time now, he’d been struggling with his position. Chase knew he never should’ve joined the outfit. Ethics, in this line of work, were a real liability. He didn’t belong here any more than Mary did. If he could go back in time, Chase would kick his younger self right in the balls for getting him into this mess.

  They sat in a corner booth at an old greasy spoon, down the street from their hotel. The place had a seventies vibe with its burnt orange and avocado interior. There were even tabletop jukeboxes. Chase couldn’t stand the silence so he’d dropped a couple quarters in and “Stayin’ Alive” blared from the speakers.

  It wasn’t even light out yet, so the place was nearly empty, except for a couple of middle-aged men seated at the counter. They both wore uniforms, and Chase noticed their rigs parked outside on the way in. Chase usually ate at truck stops because truckers didn’t put up with shitty food.

  “What kind of doctor do you want to be again?” Maybe she’d eat something and calm down if he distracted her.

  “A cardiothoracic surgeon, although I need to start medical school first, which is hard to do when people keep trying to kidnap me.”

  Chase ignored the bitterness because he couldn’t blame her. She had every right to be pissy with him.

  Frankly, she wasn’t what he expected, and maybe that’s why his sense of right and wrong bothered him.

  The only time she’d had any freedom had probably been at college and even then she’d undoubtedly studied more than partied. There was a lot she didn’t know about the world. From what he’d gleaned, her grandfather controlled access to her. Cobb had kept her in a bubble, she’d lived a sheltered existence and she wasn’t ready for harsh realities. Chase wished he hadn’t been the one who’d given her an introduction.

  And her beauty was a distraction.

  Chase had seen photos, of course, but they scarcely did her justice. He wished she weren’t so goddamned attractive. Chase tried to focus on a pretty blonde waitress on the other side of the room but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Mary. She was his prisoner, not his date, and he should act like it, instead of mooning over her.

  Dammit.

  And then he remembered s
he’d spoken. Sure enough, her brows were furrowed, and she probably thought he was an idiot, and Mary had a point.

  “You’ll get there.”

  “I know.” She viciously poked a sausage. He had no doubt she was imagining skewering him instead.

  “You can look me in the eye, you know.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  Chased chuckled. “Have it your way.”

  “None of this is going my way.”

  He changed the subject. “What made you decide to pursue medicine?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always loved math and science. In prep school, they were my two favorite subjects.”

  “Really? I couldn’t stand either of them. I preferred history.” Chase had been fascinated by the World Wars in particular and used to imagine himself standing up to fascism and maybe punching Hitler in the mouth.

  Or maybe Chase just wanted to make up for his family’s misdeeds. As if I could ever wipe the slate clean.

  She scrunched up her button nose. “I never liked history. I’ve always found all those dates boring.”

  “Say it ain’t so. The History Channel’s my favorite.”

  “Sorry. My jam is police procedurals and medical shows. “

  “Like what? Grey’s Anatomy?” Chase had seen the program a couple of times, and it was mostly about doctors getting it on, in between healing people.

  “No, the reality shows, where they show actual surgeries.”

  She watched operations in her spare time? Interesting.

  “The reality of wounded people is different. When it’s on the screen, you can remove yourself from the gore, but it ain’t like that in real life.”

  Her eyes widened. “So you’ve shot a lot of people?”

  “Yes, but not how you think. In the Marines, I saw my share of injuries.” For some reason, he wanted her to think of him as a decent guy, even though he’d abducted her.

  “How’d you go from soldier to this?”

  Excellent question. Chase didn’t have a reasonable answer for her, so he moved on.

  “Long story.” It was a total cop-out.

  “Well, I don’t have anythin’ better to do than listen.”

  “Maybe another time.”

  “Whatever.” She set her fork down. “I have to use the restroom.”

  “Fine, I’ll come with you.”