Catching Sin, page 28
“And what if I threaten your friend’s life?”
Jake stands up taller, but he doesn’t dare glance in my direction. “You mean the way you’re threatening mine and my wife’s?”
“I’d rather not kill you, Mister Turner. Believe it or not, I respect you. And your wife has been through enough. I’m sure you’d agree with me on that. Depending on how you allow this to play out, the only other person who has to die is your friend. I don’t take kindly to men who covet what’s mine.”
“How nice for you,” Jake deadpans. “And I don’t take kindly to men who tell me they’re going to kill my friends. And I really don’t fucking take kindly to men who threaten my wife. Isn’t that how we got into this mess with you in the first place?”
Conti does that stupid chuckling thing again. Like he’s just that sinister and scary.
“I have a tablet from your security tower. It has access to everything on Turner Hotel’s, servers. All your security. All your clients’ protected information, including credit card numbers, phone numbers, and addresses. Gaming cameras. Your advanced recognition software. The list goes on and on and on. Absolutely everything is in my possession. I also have men in your three hotels on the Strip. You know this because I placed them there, so you’d catch them gambling, but what you don’t know is that they were a distraction for your security teams. My men are all over your casinos and they’re in place, waiting for my word to take over your security towers. So, I’ll make a deal with you, Mister Turner. You sign over your three Las Vegas hotels and I’ll let you keep the rest.”
Jake’s eyes widen, and he steps forward almost involuntarily.
“Yes, you heard me correctly. Give me those three hotels and you and your wife will be rid of me forever. I won’t kill you and I won’t kill her. I’ll call off my men and return your tablet. None of the information I have or will gain from my men goes public, which will ruin you and your company’s credibility. Millions of people will be compromised. I can promise you that. If you don’t, you’ll watch your wife die and your company go down before you die.”
Jake hesitates, his reluctant gaze straining on me for a very long while before turning back to Conti. “And Maddox?”
“I think we’ve already covered that. I can’t allow him to live at this point, regardless of the deal you and I strike. But how your friend’s life ends is up to you. If you give me those hotels, I’ll end it quickly. If you don’t, I’ll make sure he suffers like no man ever has.”
Jake stiffens, his hand reaching out for my arm as if he’s going to do something when we both know he can’t. It’s too late for that now. But Jake still keeps his mouth shut.
Dammit, Jake!
“He’ll do it,” I say, gritting my teeth. “He’ll sign over the hotels.”
“No. I won’t.”
“Yes, you fucking will!” I turn and yell at my friend, my eyes blazing, my fists a clenched ball of bloodless tissue. “You will, Jake. You’re not dying for me, and neither is Fiona. Especially not Fiona. I spent way too much damn time making sure you two got together. I killed Niklas Vaughn, so she’d be safe. You’ve spent too much time rebuilding and reworking Turner Hotels to watch it go down. I’m dead anyway. It’s non-negotiable, asshole. Sign his bullshit and go.”
“You had to get involved with him,” Jake hisses out, the malice in his tone unmistakable.
“What was I supposed to do? I killed a man, self-defense or not. But hey, it’s been a good few years. Name one of your sons after me and get the fuck out of here!” I shove him. Hard. Because if he could leave before this goes down and take Isabel with him, all the better. He takes a few steps back. “You knew this was how it was going down for me. This is how I want it to go down for me.”
Jake shakes his head at me, the color in his cheeks rising. “She wasn’t your fault, man.”
Now it’s my turn to take a step back because that just blindsided me. Sure, I might have said too much. Might have gone just a bit too far. Gotten too wrapped up in the moment. But that? “Don’t,” I warn, because I cannot hear him tell me that driving drunk and high and crashing my car and killing Kim wasn’t my fault. It was. Yes, her father had a part in that. A large part, and I own and accept that. But my actions that night are a fact. My tox screen and blood alcohol level are facts. Kim is dead. Another fact.
He throws his hands up, but his expression breaks, and I know, I know, how hard this is for him. Every single step along the way has led us here. We pause, both catching our breath. Our eyes are locked, his brown ones to my blue ones, and after an eternity of unspoken words, I nod my head.
He blows out the heaviest breath I’ve ever heard and then says in a strangled tone, “I’ll do it.”
That’s when the gun fires and I go down.
Thirty-One
ISABEL
* * *
Nothing happens in slow motion. That’s what you always read about in books and see in movies. A montage of events that slowly unravel while your senses are at the top of their game and you’re able to take it all in frame by frame. Yeah, that’s not how this goes. At least not for me.
This is chaos. My senses are frazzled. My mind is a jumbled-up mess of freaked-out and terrified and adrenaline and haze. The scent of blood and death and gunpowder still linger in the air from Conti killing Morgan. Jesus. Morgan is dead and I’m sweating in a twisted panic.
Because I’m standing at Anthony Conti’s side, listening to the exchange between him, Jake, and Maddox. I watch as that woman kisses Maddox’s mouth like a deranged animal after she admits she’s been fucking him. And that’s sorta where I get stuck. At least for a while. Seconds? Minutes? I’m not sure. I’m too keyed-up for a proper frame of reference. Because my first inclination is to hate Maddox for being a lying two-timing piece of shit asshole male. I want to reach out and slap his already beaten-up face. I might even want to do the same to the woman for screwing someone I consider to be mine. That jealousy? Yeah, it eats me up pretty good.
But then I realize something.
Maddox wouldn’t cheat on me.
Maddox, who took my virginity with love, tenderness, and patience. Maddox, who stared deep into my eyes and told me he loved me. Maddox, who has risked everything for me. “You’re the girl I risk everything to save.” Those were his words to me that night at the club as I sat on his lap and told him I was going to be the girl he regrets. That seems to be who I am in this moment, because I feel like I got us here. Maybe, maybe not, but it’s how it feels.
I don’t trust people.
Never have.
A junkie mother who doesn’t tend to the basic needs of her children sort of sets the stage for that. Anthony Conti being a lying, deceitful monster reinforces that. And being surrounded by drunk, gropey, horny men who talk a good game but are only after you for one thing seals the deal. You learn that the only person you can rely on is yourself. You learn that being vulnerable in front of another human being is a costly mistake. You learn that love masquerades as a bright, shiny apple, when in truth, it’s fleeting, conditional, and dangerously poisonous.
Only . . . with Maddox, it wasn’t like that.
I would climb onto his lap, stare him in the eyes, and see his honesty and sincerity shining back at me. His love has been unconditional. He knows my ugly and dark and has met it head-on without a falter in his steps. He proved time and time again that I can trust him. “I can’t always tell you everything. There are things I’m holding back. But my ultimate goal is to keep you safe and protected and alive.” Those were his words to me the night I lost my virginity. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what he was trying to hint at when he told Conti that I’m too young, too much his employee, and that his thoughts are too dirty.
So, this woman who kissed him? Yeah, that hurts. Did he truly fuck her? I don’t know. But my gut is telling me he didn’t. Maddox wouldn’t do that. I know it. I know him.
Which means something isn’t right.
Maddox and Jake are yelling now, fighting back and forth about Conti’s demands. Maddox is trying to force Jake to take the deal to save himself and Fiona and Turner Hotels. Even though it means Maddox . . . dies? Did I hear that correctly? Maddox is going to die? Sacrificing himself is something he would do without hesitation. But suddenly, I can’t watch them fight. I probably should. This situation, this conversation, is without a doubt the most intense I’ve ever heard. The implications behind it has tears coursing down my face, dripping onto my shirt. It has my insides reeling and roiling. I’m listening. I’m overwhelmed. So much so that I think I’ve stopped breathing. I can’t lose Maddox. The mere thought has bile repeatedly climbing up the back of my throat and I have to keep swallowing it down or I will throw up everywhere. But if something isn’t right here, then there is no way Maddox will die. Someone will stop it. They have to.
And it’s that someone I’m currently staring at. Not Jake or Maddox or even Conti.
No. I’m watching the man who had the gun pointed at Jake this entire time.
And he’s watching me back.
I’ve finally figured out where I know him from.
He’s the man with the dark hair and piercing green eyes. The one I saw with Maddox, who Fiona hugged, that day in the atrium when I was walking with Morgan so long ago. He’s the man staring back at me. He communicates nothing. There is no smirk or wink. No signs of recognition. But he’s staring at me in the midst of this showdown for the ages. But then . . .
“I’ll do it,” breaks through and without the benefit of foresight or reaction time, Anthony Conti, the man on my left, lifts his hand and shoots Maddox directly in the chest.
Just like that.
Maddox falls back. Just falls, twisting to the floor and landing hard on his stomach, his arms splayed. My mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. Nothing like when Morgan was shot in front of me. I watch him fall and all I can think is, I was wrong. This dark-haired, green-eyed man stood by and let his friend get shot. Jake stood by and allowed it. Hell, he gave the go-ahead. Not everything Maddox does is planned and well thought out because I’m standing here, watching him on the ground and there is blood seeping out from beneath his body.
Blood.
Dark, red blood and there is so much of it.
“There’s so much blood,” I whisper.
Jake hasn’t moved. I don’t know if he’s also staring at Maddox’s body the way I am, because I can’t look at him. I hate him. I hate him for letting Maddox die. I hate the dark-haired, green-eyed man for letting Maddox die. I hate the woman who claims she was having sex with him when I know it’s a lie. But I absolutely despise Anthony Conti for killing him. He killed Morgan and now Maddox and I can’t. Oh god, I just can’t.
I take a step forward, closer to Maddox’s lifeless body. Why is no one speaking? Why is no one moving? Or are they and all I can see is Maddox? He’s not breathing. At least not obviously. And the blood. God, it just keeps coming. I’m standing in it now, that’s how much there is and how close to Maddox I’ve gotten.
Maddox. You can’t be dead.
Crouching down I press my hand to his back, directly between his shoulder blades. He’s not breathing. Oh my god. No. Please, Maddox, breathe. Don’t leave me. I need you.
But he’s gone. Maddox is gone.
Standing up, I turn around, away from Maddox because I can’t look or touch him anymore, and it’s then that I realize that Jake is standing with his hands clutching the back of the chair I was once sitting in. His breathing is labored, and his head is down like he’s losing his mind. Conti is . . . flawless. Fucking buoyant. He’s actually fishing around, searching for the right papers. Is he for real? All this over a few hotels? Over the idea that Maddox coveted me?
And now Maddox is dead.
Conti is talking, but I can’t hear anything he’s saying. My ears are ringing, and blood is rushing through them and it’s so loud. Like a helicopter is taking off inside my skull. Conti is staring at me expectantly.
“Isabel?” he questions, waiting for a response, but I have no idea what he wants from me.
It’s like I’m outside my body. Like my mind is somewhere else and I’m stranded, stuck in this alternate reality. Because this can’t be real. “Take her out of here,” he says to someone, but I shrug off the hand that grabs me. My gaze drops to my hands, searching for Maddox’s blood because that’s all I’ll have left of him. And before I can even comprehend how sick that concept is, I realize they’re not trembling. Not even shaking a little. And this makes me smile so goddamn hard.
Because Jake is a mess. Morgan and Maddox are dead. The blonde is who the fuck cares where and the dark-haired, green-eyed man is suddenly right next to me. Maybe he’s the one who tried to lead me out of here, but he doesn’t touch me. It’s like he knows exactly what I’m about to do and is giving me the option because I grab the gun from his hand, and he doesn’t stop me. And suddenly, all that sound comes rushing back. The blood in my body is no longer deafening to me. I’m aware of everything. I see it all.
Conti’s gun is on the desk, discarded because the arrogant fool doesn’t fathom that anyone here would dare go against him. But I have nothing to lose at this point. My fucks to give are all used up. Maddox is dead, and I fell in love with the stupid lug. And Justin’s education is all paid for. But most importantly, I don’t want Anthony Conti to live. He deserves to die, and I have to kill him.
“Put down the gun, Isabel,” Conti orders, like his orders mean anything to me at this point. “Now, or you’ll regret it.” He points to someone behind me, probably the guy who had the gun on Maddox and yells, “Grab her.” But no one touches me. I hear a scuffle behind me and grunts of pain, but I don’t dare turn away from my target.
I fire the gun before I can think twice about my actions. Jake jumps back, out of the way, though I wasn’t anywhere close to hitting him. No, I may have never fired a gun before, but I wasn’t that far off for my first time. The bullet hit the cement wall beside Conti’s head.
“Isabel,” he bellows, shock and maybe even a touch of fear flashing across his face. Let him believe it was a warning shot. He ducks, practically hitting the floor, but recovers quickly, scrambling for his own gun, which is now in Jake’s hand. Smart man. Jake turns and fires the gun behind me. I have no idea if someone dies and I don’t care. I have so much I want to say to Anthony Conti. Years and years’ worth of stuff. War and Peace caliber stuff. But I can’t find where to begin. I can’t figure out exactly how I want to say it. And really, what does it matter at this point? His life is over, and maybe one day, if I live through this, I’ll tell his grave everything.
I stare into his eyes, his cold, black eyes, and I see my hatred reflected back at me. He’s surprised, which is almost comical. How could one man be so arrogant? I hear him shout out my name one last time and then he yells for his man on the other side of the door. I don’t care, and I don’t waste time, I fire the gun before Jake can get another shot off. He will not get the pleasure of killing the man who has essentially enslaved me to him for the last three years, who perpetually held the life of my brother over my head, who threatened me at every possible turn. The man who hit me and killed my mother and Morgan and Maddox. He killed Maddox. I fire the gun again and again and again, the kick on the thing is fierce, nearly knocking me down. The gun is large, too large for my small hands, and it’s difficult to fire. My fingers cramp with the effort, but I don’t stop.
The gun finally lets off a satisfying click, indicating it’s out of bullets and I can’t even tell who or what I hit. My eyes are too heavy with my tears to see through them because I just killed Justin’s biological father. The man who paid for his entire education and gave me guardianship of him. The man who, for better or worse, claimed to love me for the last three years. Got me out of a bad situation with my mother. Gave me a job. Introduced me to Maddox.
The gun slips through my fingers but before I can fall to the floor with it and let go completely, strong arms wrap around my waist. I don’t want the dark-haired, green-eyed man to touch me. I don’t want Jake Turner or the blonde or Conti’s man to touch me. The only man I want to touch me is dead, so I push them away, slapping wildly at the determined hands holding me up.
“No,” I scream, but it’s too late to stop them. It’s not Jake or the blonde or the dark-haired, green-eyed man or even Conti’s man. It’s a man with brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in all black.
“Luke Walker?” I utter, and he smiles at the fact that I remembered his name. I don’t return the sentiment.
I’m secure in his grip as he says to a group of . . .agents who are now crawling about, “I don’t care about the scene. I just want the tech. As far as I’m concerned, Conti’s death saved us a whole fuck nugget of time and paperwork. The shooting of Anthony Conti and his man was self-defense. Done only after Anthony Conti shot and killed that kid in the corner and then shot Maddox. Is there anyone in this room who disagrees with that or how this ended? Anyone who feels we should take this to the next level?”
His voice is direct. His tone pointed. Dozens of people stop whatever the hell they’re doing in synchrony and pivot to us. It’s in this moment that I realize that the blonde and the dark-haired, green-eyed man are gone. It’s just Jake and me as the sole survivors.
“All good.”
“Nope.”
“Let’s get this done and go.”
I blink at all of them in stunned bewilderment.
One of the agents who is dressed like someone from Men in Black walks up to me and stares me dead in the eyes. “He killed my cousin,” he says to me. “Had him murdered over where he’d open his next restaurant. Made it look like suicide, but there were defensive wounds on his body. I couldn’t prove it, and I couldn’t push it with local agencies.”
