No Mercy (29 page)

mouth. He put the strip back over her mouth so she couldn’t speak the words that had cut him to his

soul. If she said them again, he’d likely kil her right now.

“You’re a horrible, sick monster, Salvatore.”

Again the words chilled him.

He was not a monster. He was a businessman and this was all business. Mixed with a little

revenge, he supposed. The damned CoS had always shut him out until Belle left. When she’d

vanished, he’d hoped she had been kidnapped and that they’d find her body somewhere.

When Belle turned up years later and she and Christie had rekindled their close relationship,

he’d been disappointed, but had put on a good show. Now the CoS had fucked up his life again and

he was going to have to run. But first he’d make sure every last one of them died, preferably painful

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***

His wife would be tortured by the agonizing deaths of her friends, and that would be pain enough

for her. He’d be merciful and kil her quickly. Unless she provoked him again.

The look in her eyes when she’d called him a monster was unlike anything he’d seen from her

before. He didn’t like the strength he’d seen in her expression. She had always been quiet and gentle

around him, like a beautiful butterfly. Despite never giving him sons, she had balanced him and he’d

loved her.

Now… He had to do what he had to do. He was moving on and she’d be pushed to the back of

his mind, a memory that he would eventual y forget. He’d already separated from her in some ways.

Until death do us part.

Their vows to one another at their marriage ceremony were written in stone. And that’s how it

would end. With her departure from this life.

His private cell vibrated in his pocket, the one he’d used to set up the attack on the safe house.

The one he used to conduct his
real
business.

He withdrew the phone from his pocket and looked at the display, expecting to see Oscar Garcia

calling with the news that Marta was dead. Instead it was Jorge.

Cold washed over Salvatore. Jorge had been monitoring the situation with Oscar and Marta.

That he was calling instead of Oscar could very well be bad news.

He bit out each word. “You have news for me?”

“Oscar is dead.” Jorge’s voice sounded flat, matter of fact. “Curtis kil ed Oscar after he

smothered Marta and then strangled Belle.”

“Was he successful in kil ing Marta and Belle?” Salvatore’s voice rose. He saw Christie’s eyes

widen and he realized his mistake by letting her know Belle had still been alive.

“No.” Jorge went on, “My resource says Belle stopped Oscar from finishing his job when she hit

him with an object. He tried to murder Belle, but Curtis found them and killed Oscar before he could

finish her off.”

“Fuck.” Salvatore spat the word. “I’l talk to Rodrigo and get Davies on the job.”

“The feds have two agents on the room now,” Jorge said.

Salvatore’s hand shook. “Then Davies can bomb the fucking place.”

“The hospital is being watched from the outside. He wouldn’t be able to get close.”

Salvatore struggled to maintain his composure. It would not do to have Paco and Christie see

him lose control. “I’l get Rodrigo to lend me Davies to put on locating Leon and his family. I want you

to track Curtis and Belle. Use whatever resources you need. Cost is no object.”

“I will take care of it,” Jorge said. “And I’l get Rat on the job, too.”

“See that you do.” Salvatore disconnected the call. Rat was nothing more than a shithead, but

he did as he was told and was generally useful.

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***

pick up.

Frustration ate through Salvatore’s stomach like acid. He left a brief message that he needed

Davies, and then disconnected the call.

When Salvatore looked at Christie, she had her chin tilted up and that look in her eyes that he

didn’t like. Not one bit. He’d always thought of her as that delicate butterfly he could crush if he chose

to. She didn’t look crushed. She looked angry.

He stared at her. She didn’t look away.

Fury cut through his chest like a knife and he bent and clenched his fists on the tabletop. Nothing

had gone as planned. Everything was falling apart and he had to pull it all back together.

He would, of that he had no doubt.

And every member of the CoS would die.

***

***

It was the morning following the attack on the safe house, Christie’s kidnapping, and the attempt

on Marta’s life.

Belle perched on the edge of the bed of the suite in the B & B, her hands braced to either side

of her and her feet on the floor to keep herself grounded. Her skin felt chilled and her stomach tied

in knots.

Nothing seemed real. It was all one big nightmare.

And then there was the secret she’d been keeping from Dylan.

She knew she had to tell him the truth. She’d put it off and put it off, and she knew there would

be no perfect time to tell him.

Feeling overwhelmed, tears threatened at the backs of her eyes. She had to do it now. She’d

waited too long.

Her thoughts whirled as Dylan used the bathroom in the suite they were staying in. The B & B

was a large private home with two upstairs suites. Originally four bedrooms had been upstairs but

they’d been converted into two suites when the new owners purchased the older home.

So much had happened since she got that first cal from Dylan… Nate. Tom. Marta. Christie.

Marta’s guard had been doubled and another team was watching the hospital. The FBI was now

working with DHS to find Christie as it was considered to be a kidnapping.

Belle pushed her fingers through her hair, shifted on the bed, then tried to sit still. She wanted

to be out there, helping find Christie. Dylan would be leaving soon to do just that.

Before he left, she had to come clean. After everything that had happened, she was going to hit

him with a truth that would send him reeling. How was she going to do this?

The suites were nice and apparently rented out steadily, even though the owners did not

advertise. Visitors to Bisbee learned about the B & B by word of mouth, and Dylan had decided it

was an ideal temporary place to stay.

Agents had rented the two upstairs suites so no one was there but Dylan, Belle, and two agents

Dylan trusted the most—Trace and Brooks. The owners kept to their private quarters and the kitchen

on the bottom floor.

The two agents remained on guard in the hallway between suites, while Dylan stayed with Belle

in one of them. G.I. Joe was in the front room near the door, sitting like a sphinx, his ears perked.

He seemed to be intent on guarding them, especially after what had happened at the safe house.

She wondered at how vicious he’d been to Salvatore and the other men, like he knew them. She

had a feeling he did and that it had something to do with Nate.

Belle’s throat and neck ached from nearly being strangled. Her skin had bruised, the purple

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***

turtleneck sweater at Dylan’s request, which would help avoid notice of the bruises and avoid

questions. Her eyes were red, a result of the near strangulation, but sunglasses had hidden the

redness when she was in public.

She sighed, hating what she had to do. It was time—she had to tell Dylan everything. It was

important that no secrets be kept between them.

When he’d finished in the bathroom, he looked distracted. “I hope to hel we have the warrant to

search Salvatore and Christie’s home by now.”

He frowned as he saw Belle and sat beside her on the bed. “Something’s on your mind.” His

gaze was intense. “And it’s not just what’s been happening. There’s something else, isn’t there.” The

last part he said as a statement, not a question. Like he somehow knew she’d been keeping

something from him.

She looked down at her lap and saw that she was wringing her hands. She raised her eyes and

met his gaze.

He skimmed her neck with his fingertips, a light feathery touch. “I hate seeing what that bastard

did to you.”

“Real y, I’m okay.” Belle sighed. “I’m lucky. I’m not like Marta, in a coma, with a gauge sticking

out of my head.” She swallowed. “And I’m not missing like Christie.”

“What happened is nothing to dismiss, Belle.” He cupped her cheek. “I haven’t been so scared

since…”

“Since I left in high school. I don’t know if I can ever apologize enough for doing that to you the

way I did.” Belle bit her lower lip a moment before she continued. “I need to tell you something

important that was one of the reasons I left. You might hate me for not telling you sooner.”

Dylan frowned. “I could never hate you, Belle.”

Her throat hurt more when she swallowed, and it was as if she could stil feel the man’s hands

around her neck. “I wil be honest. I can’t say that I regret not telling you when you were a teenager.

You could have ended up in jail, because you might have kil ed my stepfather.”

Dylan’s voice was harsh, anger clear in his expression. “Your stepfather deserves whatever he

gets for what he did to you.”

“Y
ou
didn’t deserve to go to jail.” She looked away a moment before meeting his gaze again.

“And you stil don’t. What I’m going to tell you might make you want to kil him even more. Please

promise me you won’t go after him.”

“What’s going on?” Dylan’s entire body seemed to go tense. “What is it that you need to tell

me?”

For a moment she held her breath.
Just get it out.

She let it out in a rush as she said, “My stepfather was responsible for your dad’s death. Harvey

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***

The shock that crossed Dylan’s face sent a sharp pain through her chest. But the mask that

replaced it scared her even more. It was like he’d shut down his emotions, shut
her
out.

His voice was hard, his expression even harder. “Explain.”

She gripped his arm as if that might keep him from being lost to her altogether. “Promise me you

won’t go after Harvey yourself.”

His arm vibrated beneath her touch, as if he was holding back every bit of anger he’d stored up

since his father’s murder.
“Tell me.”

“I overheard everything when my mother and Harvey talked about it. Before my mom died.”

Tears welled up in Belle’s eyes. “The Jimenez Cartel put a hit out on your dad. My stepfather carried

it out for the money. It was the one time I saw my mother stand up to him and tell him he shouldn’t

have done it. He hit her hard enough to knock her out. I slipped out the back door so he wouldn’t

know I’d overheard, in case he planned to take it out on me, too.”

Dylan looked away. His entire body had gone rigid. “You should have told me.”

His words were a cold slap. She’d expected it, but reality was far worse than what she’d ever

imagined.

Then he did something that totally took her by surprise. He braced his elbows on his knees and

buried his face in his hands.

“Dylan.” She placed her hand tentatively on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I real y am. But you

understand why I didn’t tell you, don’t you?”

He said nothing. She stroked his shoulder as he remained silent. “I’m sorry. Can you forgive

me?”

After a long moment he raised his head, his forearms resting on his thighs as he stared forward,

his eyes focused on something she couldn’t see. Like a memory.

A cold look hardened his face and she jerked her hand back from his shoulder as if she’d been

scalded.

When he turned to her, his eyes were slightly red but she saw no tears, only a mask that now

shuttered his expression.

“Dylan?” She didn’t know what to do. “I understand you being angry with me. But please don’t

go after Harvey by yourself. Do what you have to do to arrest him. But—”

When Dylan spoke, it was slow, measured, as if he was trying to maintain his calm. “I’m going

to leave you here with Trace and Brooks. I trust them and they wil protect you.”

“Take one of them with you, please.” She didn’t care that she was begging. “They can help you

take him into custody. I’l testify against Harvey. I’l do anything you need me to. Take
me
with you.”