Change of Harte (Harte, #2) (Harte Series) (16 page)

Chapter 36

Julian gripped his phone so tightly that his pulse throbbed in his fingertips. He stared at the photograph on his screen. His temper whipped around his skull like a figure skater slicing through his brain. His first reaction was to punch his fist through the back window. But he controlled his breathing and bided his time. His eyes only looking away from the image on his screen long enough to blink.

Eva was wearing matching black lace underwear. The push up bra served her tits up like two ripe cherries on a plate. Her slim belly was emphasised by the high-legged knickers that dipped delectably low in the front, barely covering her shaved pussy. Black fishnets ran from her toes to midway across her calf, looped at the top by a subtly small suspender belt. Her arms were over her head, her wrists clasped together by thick, black, leather cuffs. Heavy silver chains ran from each side of the cuff, no doubt tied to something out of view of the picture. Her ankles were shackled exactly the same way. She couldn’t kick even if she wanted to. She was utterly fucking delicious. And Da Luca knew it, too. The accompanying message was three mind imploding words.
“Revenge tastes good’’

If Mickey touched her, if he laid a finger on either of her beautiful breasts, Julian would rip his cock off and personally shove it up his arse.

Anthony swerved into the laneway where he’d picked Julian up the last time they were at Vertigo.

‘Back it up a little more…more…Okay, stop. Here is perfect.’ Julian said, looking into the rear-view mirror from his position lying across the floor between the front and backseat. The car was in the right spot for the security camera to see the rear and maybe the back wheels, too.

‘Are you sure about this, Mr. Harte?’ Anthony said, understandably anxious.

‘I fucking better be. Or this is going to get very messy. Very fucking fast.’

‘Maybe this is one situation you can’t control. Maybe you should just leave this to the cops.’

Julian’s forehead wrinkled as his eyes looked up from under his lowered head. ‘The cops told me it was over.’

‘They didn’t know this would happen. They made a mistake. They couldn’t have known Eva would come here.’

Red…orange…grey…black.
No mistakes. Not again. Failing wasn’t an option.

‘Julian, I’m scared,’ Shelly said from her position sitting with her legs crossed in the backseat.

‘Don’t look down. I’m not here. Remember? I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but I need you.

‘Sorry. I’m just nervous. Does this look okay?’ Shelly asked adjusting a blond wig.

Julian nodded. ‘You’re a bombshell. You look the part, too, Anthony.’

Julian’s suit was a good fit on his chauffeur. A little long, maybe, but no one would see Anthony’s ankles.

Anthony climbed into the backseat and Julian set the timer on his watch. ‘Give it a half an hour. If I’m not out, that’s it, you two get yourselves the hell out of here, okay?’

‘We’re not going to just leave you, Julian,’ Anthony said. He wasn’t acting the loyal professional now; he was being a friend. But there was no room for that shit now. This had to be professional to the T or they were all in trouble.

‘Thirty minutes and then gone. I’m not asking.’

‘We’ll fake fuck like our lives depend on it,’ Shelly said with a nervous shake.

‘They do. Make it good. I’ve a reputation to live up to.’ Julian smirked. ‘The view is pretty blurred with the neon lighting from the pizza place causing a glare on the back window. They definitely won’t know you’re not Melissa and me, but they will know if you’re not moving.’

‘Can think of it like a cardio workout. Sorry, Anthony.’ Shelly tried to laugh, but it came out with a nervous slurp. ‘Will they really believe it, though?’

‘I paid ten million for that pussy. I’m just letting them know I’m a satisfied customer.’

‘You’d only do something like that if you wanted to rub it in their faces. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid, cocky, and arrogant,’ Shelly said.

Julian tossed an eyebrow. ‘That’s exactly why they’ll believe it.’

‘If things go tits up, there’s an envelope in the glove box.’ Julian pointed.

‘A will,’ Shelly gulped not even trying to hide her disgust.

‘A letter. Everything is for Evangeline, Anthony. Everything.’

‘Julian, you’re scaring me,’ Shelly said.

‘Don’t be scared. Libertia Supra Omnis.’

‘Freedom above all,’ Shelly translated Julian’s mantra, almost gagging on her own breath. ‘Game on, yeah?’

Julian didn’t reply. He slid into the front seat, let the handbrake off and the car rolled back a couple of meters before he jerked the handbrake up again. The backseat was in view of the security cameras now. ‘Game on.’

Chapter 37

Eva’s arms hurt, and she was cold. She’d been only been shackled to the wall for about twenty minutes, but it was long enough for the cuffs to feel like they were trying to chew her wrists off. She’d thrashed wildly when two of the bald henchmen had restrained her and buckled black leather cuffs around her feet and wrists, tying them much too tightly. She’d only calmed down when Mickey Da Luca warned her to stay still and smile for the camera or he’d slit her throat. She doubted Mickey was the type of man to make a threat that he wasn’t prepared to follow through on. She’d stayed so still she was barely breathing.

Now, an hour later, maybe a little less, she couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She was bound and gagged, sitting upright in a kitchen table style chair in an empty room with no window and a flickering overhead bulb. Her clothes were thrown in a pile beside her, too far away to touch but near enough to make out even in the dim light. The flimsy lingerie they’d forced her to wear did little to keep her warm, and she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes anymore. Her shivering body rubbed against the rough rope tied around her, scratching her skin like gritty sandpaper. Part of her wished that she was still tied to the wall in the main function room. At least then she would still be with Nathan. When she was first separated from Nathan, raised voices and shouting carried through the walls. But it had been silent now for a long time, and she was terrified to think what that might mean.

The door burst open and the same two men who tied her to the wall stood in front of her now. One of them rubbed the crotch of his jeans in her face. He stank of sweat and piss. The other one hit her across the back of the head when the look of disgust on her face clearly wasn’t the reaction he wanted to see.

She opened her eyes again to find herself back in the main room with a pounding headache. She rolled her head to one side and could feel the skin on the back of her neck crunch, taut with her own dried blood. When her eyes finally managed to focus, she looked around. Her chair was on a stage in the middle of the floor. She was almost certain that stage hadn’t been there before. But her head hurt too much to let her process the memory of earlier clearly. The light was bright now. The whole stage around her was lit up like the pitcher’s mound at a stadium baseball game. The men from earlier had all disappeared, and Nathan was gone, too. She was completely alone. And then she realised…she was bait. They needed her; they didn’t need Nathan. She had to believe they’d kicked him out, maybe thrown him in a dumpster out back somewhere, and with his heart still beating. She had to believe…

She looked at the tablet resting across her knee. The screen was flickering and the image was slightly blurred, but it was easy to tell it was footage from a security camera. It was recording outside, a narrow alleyway—it seemed. The back of the club, most likely. Was it streaming live? She recognised the car right away, and the exquisitely tailored suit rocking in the backseat. She didn’t know the blonde, but it didn’t matter. She shot her eyes around the room without moving her head. She was being watched. She looked back at the screen and gasped. She cried. She squeezed her eyes tight and prayed for tears to trickle. It was the reaction they’d expect. A test. But as much as they might think it was their test, she knew better. This had Julian written all over it. They were testing her. Julian was testing them all. She had to pass. But Mickey was new to Julian’s games. A clueless recruit. An arrogant son of a bitch who thought he could outsmart Julian. Her mind was smiling. Julian Harte didn’t do losing. Mickey was no match. He’d lose the final round. Everyone always did. But not her. She knew exactly how to complete all levels. All tests, all challenges, always being one step ahead. She was holding all the cards now because Julian had taught her how. Life was just one big fucking game. And she was so ready to play.

She looked at the tablet screen again, this time seeing past the man’s suit and the woman’s over-styled blond hair to the familiar bodies underneath. If Anthony and Shelly were in the car, where in the hell was Julian? She didn’t want to look around again—it would be too obvious, and she doubted she’d gain any clues anyway. There was nothing more she could do except wait. Wait for Julian to win.
Please God, let him win.

She was not expecting to see the wheels of Julian’s Maybach spin so aggressively with clouds of smoke circling the back of the car. There was no sound on the video, but Eva could imagine the roar of the engine and the squeal of the tyres as the car raced away. A shutter behind raised and a red convertible shot out at matching speed. Eva’s eyes were pinned to the screen, certain more cars would follow. The chase would be on. The decoy would work and Julian would come through the doors at any minute and whip her into his arms. Safe. But the shutter closed again just as suddenly as it had opened.

Chapter 38

Eva could hear clapping behind her. She tried to turn around, but every movement only pulled the rope tighter around her. The clap from the single pair of hands was amplified by the otherwise silent hall. The sound grew closer; it was almost right behind her. She closed her eyes and waited for the thump to the back of the head she was sure was coming. Instead, someone laughed. Mickey. She recognised his throaty rattle. The laugh deepened and built and built…and stopped. Suddenly, leaving dead silence.

‘Your boyfriend disappoints me, Eva.’

Eva held her head high, hiding her own disappointment. She was really struggling to keep it together now, but she had to remember everything Julian had taught her. Revealing emotion was against the rules. It gave your opponent the upper hand. It was so obvious now.

‘Were you watching?’ Mickey said, getting down on his hunkers in front of Eva. He pushed the tablet over a little to make room for his hand on her knee. He was soft spoken and gentle. Like a friend. It was far more unnerving than when he was aggressive.

‘Yes. I was watching,’ Eva replied keeping her voice as level as possible.

‘And?’

Eva’s face twitched.
And what?

‘
I think Mr. Harte underestimates me. A decoy car? Disappointing and unoriginal. Wouldn’t you agree?

Eva didn’t reply. There was no right answer to that question.

Mickey pressed his finger and thumb against Eva’s straight lips and pulled her mouth into a smile shape. ‘Keep it like that,’ he snapped. ‘I want you happy that this gives us time to get to know each other…and there is plenty more of you that I’d like to get to know.’ Mickey’s hand slid up Eva’s thigh.

‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that.’

Eva’s stomach flipped hearing Julian’s voice. Her eyes darted around frantically. She thought he might be hiding in the corner somewhere, but he was standing right in front of her in full view.

Mickey stood up and turned around to face Julian. Mickey was only a couple of inches shorter than Julian, but his ugly, overweight beer belly gave the impression he was much shorter.

‘Mr. Harte. I see you got your invitation.’ Mickey turned back toward Eva and licked the air just in front of her face. His yellow smoker’s tongue was repulsive. If he dared to shove it in her mouth, she’d bite.

Julian tilted his head very slowly to one side and looked at Mickey like the sight of the slimy bastard stung his eyes. ‘I got the photograph. Thank you. My phone lacked a picture of Evangeline’s perfect tits.’

Julian tossed an eyebrow and looked at Eva. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He wanted to antagonise Mickey. And judging by Mickey’s reddening face, it was working. She would just prefer it if her boobs didn’t get a mention.

‘You’re a little late to the party, Mr. Harte. Eva and I were just about to get better acquainted.’

‘Over my dead body,’ Julian said stepping forward.

Mickey laughed. ‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’

Julian copied the canned style laughter. ‘You’re a regular fucking Al Capone, eh Da Luca. It would probably be easier to take you seriously if you didn’t have a piss stain running down your leg right now.’

Eva quickly shot her attention to Mickey’s pants. There was no wet patch. Was Julian just calling Mickey’s bluff? She really wished that he wouldn’t. Mickey didn’t seem like a bluffer to her.

‘Like I’ve told you already, Julian. That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble.’

‘And that mouth of hers isn’t going anywhere near you.’

Mickey’s henchmen appeared out of nowhere again. It was shit creepy how they did that, like they were just hiding in the walls or something. But Mickey raised his hand and they each took a step back like trained dogs. Watching, waiting to pounce.

‘I won’t lie, Julian. I was a little put out when you took Tamara. But I was pleased to see that you are a reasonable man. I don’t usually do exchanges, but I’ll make an exception.’

Venom seeped from Julian’s expression. Mickey was getting under Julian’s skin. Eva could see it. If Julian lost his temper, that would be it—there was no way he could match the eight or so of Mickey’s thugs lurking in the wings.

‘I will quite enjoy breaking a little sister in. I’ve had the main course, and now it’s time for dessert.’ Mickey moved around to stand behind Eva, rubbing her shoulders with his clammy hands as he spoke.

Her whole body recoiled and her pores wanted to vomit. Mickey snapped his fingers and four of the largest men she had ever seen stepped forward from the shadows. ‘Kindly see Mr. Harte out the back door. And be sure to give him a taste of our hospitality, won’t you.’

‘With pleasure,’ one of them growled.

Eva thrashed from side to side in a desperate attempt to free herself. Her efforts were as futile as before, of course, and she knew it, but she needed to try at least. They were going to hurt Julian, maybe even kill him, and it was all her fault.

The men swooped on Julian. He didn’t flinch. He was waving some sort of metaphorical flag. Maybe he’d hoped surrendering would spare Eva the brunt of Mickey’s temper. Or maybe he’d just lost the will to fight. Maybe, for the first time, Julian Harte was about to lose. It didn’t bear thinking about, but Eva’s mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

‘Oh, and one more thing, Julian…’ Mickey said.

Julian turned his attention away from the men who immured him and made eye contact with Mickey again.

‘Your getaway car got away without you.’

Julian laughed. ‘You and I both know that car was never waiting for me.’

Mickey nodded. ‘I don’t know whether to be insulted that you thought I would be stupid enough to fall for a decoy or disappointed that I’d credited you with intelligence before that stupid move.’

‘Irony.’ Julian stroked his chin with his fingers. ‘God, I love the sound of that word.’

Mickey’s fingers dug into Eva’s shoulders. It hurt, but she didn’t react.

‘Did you know I grew up in an orphanage, Mr. Da Luca?’

Mickey’s grip tightened. Eva was certain he would draw blood soon.

‘It was a right shit hole. Rats in the dorms. Piss on the floor. It’s long gone now. But the memories aren’t.’

‘This isn’t reality TV, Julian. There’s no audience voting for your sob story. And I couldn’t give a shit.’

‘That’s a pity, Da Luca. I was just getting to the good bit.’

‘Make it quick, Harte. My dick isn’t going to wait all night for a fuck.’

‘The director was a cranky old bastard. Liked to use his belt as a weapon, and his dick as one sometimes, too. By the time I’d done three months in the place, I had figured out that he kept his brain in his balls.’

Eva’s heart hurt. She understood why Julian never spoke about his childhood, why he was so guarded. Anyone would be if they’d been through that hell. But it was weird hearing him open up, especially now, like this. He certainly wasn’t having a heart to heart with Mickey.
A plan maybe.

‘Is there a point to this, Julian?’ Mickey sighed.

Mickey’s men tightened their grip of Julian. Eva wanted to scream at them to let go.

‘I’m getting to that bit. Jesus, Da Luca. We Irish are famous for our storytelling; we’re not used to being rushed.’

‘I’m tiring of that mouth of yours, Julian.’

‘That’s what the orphanage director said, too. You know, you’re really both very alike. Slimy scumbags who like to stick their cock in pretty young girls.’

Mickey’s eyes shot across the room and met with one of the men holding Julian. It was a signal, Eva knew. The man twisted his leg and forced the side of his foot into the back of Julian’s knees. Eva heard the crack of Julian’s knees as they hit the tiles. It must have been excruciating, but Julian didn’t make a sound.

Julian shook his head. ‘Just.Like.Him.’

Eva felt something sharp and cold against her neck, she couldn’t see what it was but she didn’t have to. She knew it was a knife.

‘Any more riddles, Mr. Harte, and your girlfriend is going to be a head shorter.’

‘Sometimes people are so busy thinking that they’re being tricked that they miss what’s been obvious all along,’ Julian said.

Eva screamed as Mickey pressed the knife harder against her soft flesh. Eva closed her eyes for the first time since she’d woken. Was Julian talking about Mickey or her? Or both? Did it even matter? Would she die before she ever found out?

‘Mr. Harte,’ Mickey shouted.

‘I paid one of the older boys off with fizzy cola bottles that I’d taken from one of the teacher’s desks. For ten sticky sweets, he wore my clothes and ran screaming out the main gates. The decoy boy. But the director knew it wasn’t me. He thought he was a smart man. I counted on him being smart, just not smart enough. I knew he’d come for me, so I waited. I hid in the shed at the end of the garden smoking a cigarette that I’d stolen from the same teacher. She really needed to be more careful where she left her shit lying around. He thought he’d punish me. Teach me a lesson for trying to trick him. He beat me to a pulp. He crushed my chest until I thought I’d never breathe again. He did everything I knew he would. But I’d taken something else from my teacher…her video recorder. I was just a messed-up kid, who’d believe my story without some evidence?’

Mickey finally took his hands off Eva. ‘Just like him?’

‘You’re a clever man, too, Da Luca. And I counted on it, just like when I was a kid. The decoy wasn’t a car. The decoy was making you believe it was.’

‘Impressive, Mr. Harte, but you’re still thinking like a little boy. You may have fooled me once, but you’re still here, and I don’t take kindly to games. This is no home for lost little boys. When we beat someone to a pulp, to borrow your phrase, we don’t leave a loose end behind. You’re just a little orphan all grown up. There will be no one to miss you when you’re gone.’

‘No, please,’ Eva screamed. ‘Just let us go. We won’t tell anyone.’

‘Actually. I will. I'll tell my friends in the FBI.’

Eva exhaled until she might pass out. What in the hell was Julian doing? Why did he mention the feds? Mickey would kill them for sure now.

‘You know me, baby. I’m a chatterbox.’ Julian winked at Eva.

‘Dead men don’t talk, Mr. Harte,’ Mickey spat.

The four men holding Julian began to kick and punch him. Julian couldn’t stay upright anymore. Eva’s screaming was no match for the loud thuds as their fists and feet collided with Julian’s bones.

‘Stop it, please. Please, no. I’ll do anything. Please,’ Eva begged.

Eva’s jaw burned as Mickey’s hands pounded against her face, almost knocking her and the chair to the ground.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Julian said, he words slurred by the blood trickling from his lips.

Mickey caught Eva’s hair and twisted hard until her scalp felt like it might separate from her skull. She winced and wanted to scream again, but she wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction. Mickey snapped the fingers of his other hand and his men stepped away from Julian, once again exercising their trained dog routine.

Julian took a deep breath and spat bright red blood onto the floor beside him. He turned on his side, but he didn’t get up. Eva hoped he was just being dramatic and he could get up if he wanted to, but she knew better. The men inched back from Julian, hovering like vultures, anxious for more.

No one moved and a haunting stillness filled the air. What happened next? Eva was too afraid to think about it. She couldn’t take her eyes off Julian. He must have been in a lot of pain, but he didn’t show it. But he didn’t have to. The red, knuckle
-
shaped print on his jaw, the bruising around his eye that was already starting to swell, and the constant trickle of blood from his swollen lip were more than enough telltale signs of how shaken he was. No matter how attractive Julian’s body was, or how perfect his face was, or how flawless the armour that he wore as a personality was, it couldn’t hide him now. Eva could see him; really, really see him. Julian Harte wasn’t invincible. And she was a stupid fool to ever have believed he was. He was just a man, a beautiful, made-everything-about-her-better man. The man who had saved her in more ways than one, and now, he was risking his life for her. It didn’t matter that he might never tell her that he loved her. It didn’t matter, because she already knew. She really, really knew.

Julian rummaged in his pocket. One of the men wrapped his arm around Julian’s neck and another dug his knee into the centre of Julian’s spine. Julian groaned in agony and dropped his phone. It slid across the highly polished tiles and stopped just in front of Eva’s feet.

‘Calling those friends of yours in the precinct, Mr. Harte?’ Mickey snorted. ‘Pathetic and not a very smart move.’

Julian shook his head and grimaced. Moving was hurting him. ‘You didn’t hear the end of my story.’

‘Story? I’ll give you a fucking story,’ Mickey bellowed. ‘Mickey Da Luca got pissed off listening to an overgrown leprechaun talk bullshit, so he personally put a bullet in the back of his skull.’

‘You really should have listened to the end of my story, Mr. Da Luca. Say cheese for the camera. Julian glanced at his phone. ‘This is all live streaming to the internet.’