The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (30 page)

        He stiffened. “What?

       “Apparently, there’s someone that has a lot of interest in you, and they’re snooping around the island asking questions.” He cut another cautious glance towards the kitchen. “According to my sources, the guy’s an American, Clint Rivers, and he’s not the kind of fellow to add to the friendliest list. The son-of-a-bitch is an assassin and he’s here to off you. He even tried to bribe a few of the locals to help with the hit. They refused and because of it, let’s just say that he roughed them up. So much so that they’re no longer in the land of the living.” His stare was deep again. “Whatever you have going on with Addison, the heat has followed you here, and it can only mean one thing. You’re in too deep and it’s past time that you let me in on it.”

        The shock reverberated through him.

        Hadn’t he taken the necessary precautions so his whereabouts wouldn’t be disclosed? But, obviously that wasn’t the case.

        “Where is he?” The bar stool toppled over as he stood. “If it’s trouble he’s after, the son-of-a-bitch is going to get it. He’s going to regret coming near my family,” he raged, gripping the edge of the counter.  “I swear on my grave that I’ll die before I let anyone hurt Meghan and Olivia. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him! Why in the hell are you just now telling me this? Why didn’t you say something when I first got here---”       

       “Jarrod, calm the fuck the down! I didn’t tell you offhand because I knew that you’d react just like this!” Javier hissed, shooting a fast look towards Meghan and Maria. Luckily, they were so engaged that they’d missed his angry outburst. “And no one’s going to kill anyone, at least not unless the need calls for it. Yes, it’d be best to let the feds in on it, but the bastard needs a taste of his own medicine first.” He shook his head. “Listen to me. I have the situation under control. Let me make a few quick excuses to Luna and then we’ll go, okay?”

        Tensing, tampering back the seething anger, he stepped away from the bar. “Do it.”

        A short second later, Javier disappeared into the kitchen.

        “Daddy, come look!” Meghan called from across the room, and held up a stuffed toy cat. “Doesn’t she look just like Cricket? She’s all fluffy and everything. I bet Cricket misses us, too!”

        Not saying a word, he crossed the room, and swept Meghan up in his arms. Closing his eyes against the rising fear, he hugged her close.

        No, he would not lose her like he’d lost…

        Shuddering violently, he shook the painful memories away.

        And Olivia…

        What further danger had he placed her in?

        And he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her---

        As the powerful revelation hit, he nearly crumpled to the floor at its impact.

         He sucked in a painful breath.

         Was it true?

         
Had he fallen in love with her?

          And could he accept that horrifying truth?

        “Daddy, what’s wrong? Are you sad for Cricket?” Meghan asked, pulling back with wide eyes. “Don’t cry. She’s gonna be just fine, you’ll see.” She cupped his face gently with her tiny hands, and then planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “I promise that she will. Please don’t be sad.”

        He hugged her close. “I love you, Poppet. No matter what. Always remember that.”

        “Love you, too, Daddy.”

        “Now play and have enough fun for us both,” he said roughly, forcing back his emotions, and placed her back on the floor. The instant he did, he was forgotten again as she dove headfast into playing with Maria.

         Crossing the room, he moved back to the bar, and for a long moment, he just stood there, too lost in his private thoughts.

         “Jarrod, is everything, okay?”

         At the gentle touch on his back, he jumped around, only to find Olivia regarding him with concern.

         “What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping closer. “And don’t tell me that it’s nothing.”

          “It is nothing---”

          “Don’t lie to me. Look at me.” Grasping his chin, she directed his gaze to hers. “Tell me what’s going on. You’re tense enough to break in half. Talk to me. Whatever it is…at least let me try and help you.”

         “Olivia---”

          Sighing hard, he grasped her wrist, and underneath his hold, her pulse raced. Again, their attraction wielded its power, and as it pulsated between them, they edged closer. Unable to resist their pull, he pulled her against him. As he did, her breath caught, and in that searing moment, their connection was forged.

         “Jarrod,” she whispered, breathless, trembling against his hard body. All the longing and passion that she felt shone in her brown eyes. “I---”

         “Olivia,” he breathed huskily, and a shudder of both deep pleasure and pain racked through him. “Please, just give me this moment----tell me that I’m
alive.
”

          The tears pooled in her eyes. “Yes, you are alive, and
so am I
,” she whispered again. “With you, I feel real, like anything and everything is possible. And somehow, just knowing that makes the past not matter at all.”

          The words were just as jolting as a bucket of cold ice water, and it was enough to free him from the elusive spell. Again, the harsh reality stared him straight in the face.

         He released her abruptly.

         What in the hell am I doing, he mulled, distractedly, stepping away from her. Losing focus was something that couldn’t happen.

         His agitation rose.

        
She’s getting too close…I’m getting too close…

         And these deep feelings that she evoked within him, he couldn’t and wouldn’t accept them, he reminded himself firmly. No, he wasn’t going to care about her--

         But, wasn’t it already too late?

        
He was in love with her
---

         When she grasped his hand, he flinched.

         “Please, don’t keep running away us,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this to---”

         They both started at Javier’s approach, and the hurt played across her face as he pulled away.

         “Ready?” Javier asked, passing a glance between them both, and obviously noted the tension. “Or do you need a minute?”

         Forgetting Javier momentarily, they stared at one another. So many unspoken words were given in the intense moment. He forced himself to look away. “No,” he said abruptly. “Olivia and I are done here. Let’s go.”

         Without saying a further word, he broke away from the bar. As he crossed the room, the only thing that lingered in his mind was the stain of her wounded expression.

***

         “How tragic and unfortunate,” Luna murmured sympathetically, a half hour later, facing her across the small kitchen table. “I can’t imagine having to suffer such an ordeal.”

         Easily able to pass as a modern day princess, Latino, beautiful with flawless brown skin and dark eyes, Luna was relatable. With her soft voice and calming nature, Luna was very likable.  And in such a short time, they’d bonded and were talking as if they were long-time friends.

         “I’ve come to accept things as they are,” she admitted truthfully, gripping the linen napkin. “And as uncertain as the future is, I’m not afraid of it.”

         Luna gave her a long look. “You are a strong woman, and I can easily sense that.”

         “Well, I’m certainly not going to be a victim and not appreciate what I do have left of my life,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “If anything, it’s already been proven to me that life’s too short not to do so.”

          “And it’s unfortunate that our tomorrows are not promised,” Luna sighed, casting a side look towards the kitchen bar where Meghan and Maria, a miniature version of her, ate and chatted, out of earshot. “And heaven knows that we should love the ones that we love as much as we can…while we’re here.”

         “You’re right, and I plan to do exactly that,” she said firmly, lifting her chin. “That’s why I’m looking forward to the future rather than dwelling on a past that may never be recovered.”

         “With someone in your position, that takes great courage and strength. My thoughts and prayers are with you as you embark upon this unprecedented journey.” Tossing her napkin down, Luna propped both elbows on the table before looking at her. “Now, excuse me for being blunt, but there’s really no other way to be. If it’s none of my business, just say so. But, I gather that you and Jarrod are more than friends. It’s obvious with the way that you both look at each other.”

         She toyed with her hands under the table.

         Should she reveal that they were engaged?

         And why hadn’t he done it already, especially since it was apparent that were close friends, she mulled, disturbed by that very thought again.

         “Is it really?” she asked, instead, feeling the warm flush creep along her face. Fisting her ringed hand closed, she laid the other one atop of the table. “I didn’t realize---”

         The woman placed a comforting hand on hers. “Olivia, what good is love if you have to be ashamed of it? Love is the one simple emotion that frees us of fear, uncertainty, rejection, and all things. You simply have to trust in it, still though, realizing that they’ll be bumps along the way. The ride sometimes is not a smooth one. But, in the end, it’s worth every moment of adversity that you’ve had to face.” A sad smile crinkled her face. “You know, I sense a lot of myself and Javier in the two of you.”

         “Really?” she said, interest piqued. “How so?”

         “The physical attraction---the push and pull to be together or not to be together. The fact that your head is telling you to run, but your heart is begging you to stay, and the love is so consuming that it takes precedence over anything and everything,” Luna sighed, releasing her hand before leaning back against the chair. “My relationship with Javier has always been tumultuous, even so now in all the years that we’ve been together.”

          Engrossed, Olivia stayed silent, listening.

          “Javier---he’s my heart and soul. I’d die without him,” Luna added, with a trembling smile, nearly overcome with emotions. “But, he’s never been an easy man to love. And you know why? He didn’t think that he deserved to be loved. I had a difficult time proving to him that he did.” The woman stared at her intensely. “And that’s the position that Jarrod is in right now. He doesn’t believe that anyone should love him, not even Meghan.”

           “But, I don’t understand why,” she whispered, and the tears shimmered in her brown eyes. “He’s kind, generous---”

          “You love him,” Luna said, point blank. “It’s as plain as that.”

         “At the deepest part of my soul, I know that I always have. Even if I can’t remember our past, my heart remembers loving him.” She blinked back more tears. “And I’d give anything to be close to him.”

          “I’m sure that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, and considering your fragile state, I can certainly understand his hesitation in divulging things.” Pausing, Luna fought to find her next words. “As for his past, I don’t know how much Jarrod’s revealed. But, I can tell you that he hasn’t had it easy, especially in these last years. He has experienced a tremendous amount of pain and loss that no one should be asked to bear.” The empathy played in her voice. “For so long, he’s been struggling to find direction, and if weren’t for Meghan, I fear that he’d given up a long time ago. As his close friend, I ask one thing. Don’t give up on him. Fight with everything to bring him back.”

          “I will,” she vowed. “I will.”

Chapter 15

At exactly 1:58 pm, they reached the secluded area of beachfront property. Apart from the crashing ocean waves, there were no signs of other activity. When they neared the straight edge of trees that formed a perfect border to the awaiting jungles, Javier slowed the vehicle.

A moment later, the Land Rover cruised to a stop.

From the passenger’s side, Jarrod peered through the front glass.

The beach area stretched for well over 10 miles, beautiful and mystic in its own right. Ahead, the deep shadowy jungle loomed, and so dense it was, it seemed that night breathed within it. A narrow trail could be made out, cutting right down its center.

Not a single shack or building stood on the beachfront property, and it was hardly a secret that the area was a hotspot for deadly and violent crimes.

“Welcome to Dead Man’s Hill,” Javier announced, leaning forward to brace an arm against the steering wheel, and peered ahead. “Ironic that such a beautiful place is marred by the very actions of man’s ugliness. But, isn’t that the state of the world that we live in?”

And the poisonous hate that he harbored for his enemy, didn’t it fill him with that very thing? As much as he fought to breach past the darkness, didn’t it always pull him back in, reminding him that it was his permanent existence?

Disturbed by the thought, Jarrod closed it off. “Where is he?” he asked abruptly, stiffening, glancing at Javier. “Let’s take care of it. We don’t need to be away any longer than necessary.”

“Trust me. I’m not exactly thrilled to be here either, partner. Today poses major regressions for me. But, a zebra can’t lose its stripes, can it? And I suppose that I will always play out a small facet of my past thuggish life,” Javier retorted, bending to pull the small caliber handgun from under the driver’ seat. “Come on. Follow me. But, I’ll warn you now. The hike is quite a distance. By the way, there’s something for you in the glove department. The heat in this jungle is hotter than the heat itself, and you’ll need protection.”

Already, as he talked, Jarrod was popping the latch on the glove compartment.

Of course, it was a given what he’d find.

After confiscating the pistol, he left the vehicle.

A harrowing second later, they were trampling through the jungle, carefully keeping an eye out for deadly enemies other than the four-legged beast. The further they drew away from the trail, the more agitated he grew, he noted, feeling the butt of the pistol against his waistline.

For miles, they walked, it seemed, and trampled through the rich, green foliage. Though the jungle was shadowed, the heat showed no mercy, and now they were both drenched in sweat. Wincing against the soaring heat, Jarrod wiped a sweaty hand along his brow, but kept focus.

Suddenly, the jungles spread out, and they fell on a different trail, one that was extremely narrow and constrictive. It was hardly large enough to accommodate passage, making it evident that it was a secret path. In silence, he followed Javier and sensed the rising tension in the atmosphere. The grassy trail turned into a dirt path.

Five minutes later or was it ten, they cut the next left, and he spied the small shack nestled amongst the thick bushes. Within moments, they were upon it and standing on its short porch. Rickety and worn, the porch’s slabs barely bore their weight.

“We’re here,” Javier muttered tersely, stopping short of the door, and held up a hand. “Hold on.” Using the butt of the gun, he rapped against the shoddily-built door.

Through the closed door, they heard the muffled, “Yeah?”

“It’s me---Ramos,” Javier said sharply, watching him with a steady eye, and nodded. “And I have company,”

Equally on edge, they both stayed silent as the footsteps scurried on the other side of the door.

The door whined as it was cracked open, and a pair of dark brown eyes stared back at them. After passing a cautious look over his shoulder, the dark-haired stranger stepped onto the porch, leaving the door ajar. Thirtyish, Hispanic, built like well-conditioned professional wrestler, dressed in a tight green T-shirt and faded jeans, the man sized him up with a cool look.

With a raised brow, he returned the man’s cool stare.

“Sabatino---Tomas,” Javier said, making quick introductions. “Tomas…Sabatino.”

Tomas folded beefy arms along his chest. “Heard a lot about you from the locals, and word is that you’ve made many contributions to the community. To them, you’re a modern day hero.” Passing a look over his shoulder, he inclined his head. “You’re going to have your hands full with that one. The son-of-a-bitch is as strong as an ox. My crew had quite a time apprehending him.” His gaze shifted in Javier’s direction. “Ramos, am I wrong to make the assumption that this ends our association?”

“Our debt is settled, Tomas, and this favor while it will never be enough to compensate for your grave errors against me and my family, I’ll consider it sufficient,” Javier broke in, frowning. “Our paths shall never cross again. Whatever happens here…it stays here. You’ve never seen this guy before. You don’t know who he is, and on this day, Jarrod and I were far away from here.” Javier eyed the young man coldly. “If you so much as snitch even the smallest detail, you’ll be answering to me, and this time, you won’t get off so lightly. I’ll show your punk ass the true meaning of thug. Understood?”

Nodding, Tomas looked away from him.

Staying silent, Jarrod watched the exchange with interest. Just what’d transpired between the two men in the past was anyone’s guess, and whatever it’d been, it must’ve been heavy. But, it certainly was none of his business, he frowned, and he had his own to attend to.

“Stay out here,” Jarrod cut in abruptly, passing them both a short glance. “I want to talk to him alone. This is between me, him, and no one else. There’s no need for you to get your hands dirty past this point.”

“There is no ending point for me, brother, and together, we’ll see this to the end. But, if you want to talk to him first, do so,” Javier said, stepping aside. “But, I’m not going anywhere.”

He gave a curt nod “Alright.”

Still, Tomas blocked the doorway, but upon his intense stare, cleared his throat uncomfortably. Shrugging, holding both hands up, the man backed away from the door. “Hey, man, whatever you say. My work’s done here anyway.”

“Then, get the hell out of the way,” he growled, stepping forward. “You’re wasting my time.”

But, as he moved to go in, Javier caught his arm. “Listen, I want you to do this. Think about Olivia and Meghan. For the first time in the longest, life is offering its just fruits again, and everything’s right. Remember that. As frightening as that prospect is for you, please, don’t turn your back on it. When you go in there and confront that SOB, don’t make any rash decisions that you’ll regret. The long run is always greater than the short one.”

“Fighting against Addison and winning is my long run,” he said roughly, moving past. “And I’ll be damned if I let him take anything else away from me.”

Without a further word, he left them standing on the porch and went inside. As the door closed behind him, it seemed to signify finality. Deeply shadowed, the small quarters only heightened the effect, and only an echoing silence breathed in the shack.

Except for a tiny table in the corner, the room was bare of any furnishings. The only other accessories were the trash, glass, and broken beer bottles that littered the floor. But, ever or so often, there was a crack or two admitting tiny slivers of light into the room.

Gagged, bound to the badly tattered office chair in the middle of the room, the assassin eyed him with cold regard, and a mocking smile crinkled at the edges of his mouth. Caucasian, a lock of reddish-brown hair fell over his brown eyes, and his nose was crooked, probably due to his violent tendencies. Buffed, easily packing 280 plus, the dark jeans and white t-shirt hugged the stranger. And if standing, the assassin probably topped his height by an inch or so.

Unable to control his fury, he crossed the room, and uncaring of the man’s discomfort, yanked the sash from his mouth. Staring at the assassin, he backed away in disgust. “Addison’s getting sloppy,” Jarrod said coldly. “And that just makes me wonder if junior is behind this maneuver rather than his father. But, your biggest mistake was taking on the task.”

“Stupid piece of shit,” the assassin spat, eyeing him closely. An ugly sneer grew along his face. “Matt Addison…Duke Addison…it really doesn’t matter, does it? The job will get done, regardless. I will make the kill.”

“Clint Rivers. Tell me. How much is my life worth?” he asked coolly, grabbing the only other chair in the room, and straddled it. “Hundreds? A few grand?”

“Enough to make me an extremely happy man for a long time. Since you’re keen upon asking, I’ll tell you. With this hit, I’m going to make half a million, and of course, I can’t leave a trace or the amount will be lessened. There’s no chance in hell that I’m losing one red cent---so you’re going to have to die fast like a graceful little boy.”

A volatile silence filled the space.

The assassin’s smile was mocking. “Know what I see? With this loot, I foresee endless fun with fast parties, excursions, and useless whores,” Clint spat again, slumping in the chair, and a dangerous gleam shone in his eyes. “You know, I like when my assignments include pretty boys like you, Sabatino. Nothing pleases me more than killing all that self-pride and haughtiness. You won’t be pretty for long, though. I’m going to fuck you up in unbelievable ways.” His smile was deadly. “Then, I’ll have the pleasure of killing you.”

“What do you take me for? Don’t be the fool and underestimate me. Trust me, I’m not a choir boy, and you’d be surprised of what I’m capable of doing,” he warned, and his smile was equally lethal. “I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty if the situation warrants it.”

“Are you a murderer, Jarrod Sabatino? With all your intent, I don’t think you are. While you’re a hard man, there’s a shred of human decency that separates you from me,” the assassin said triumphantly. “No doubt, you’re a roaring lion, but underneath, there beats the heart of a just man. Unfortunately, it will be your untimely doing.”

“Pity that Addison has given you such an inaccurate description of my so-called good qualities.” He shrugged. “I don’t have that many. Hell, I don’t know if I even have one. And you’d be amazed at what I’d do when my back’s against the wall.” Again, the disgust filled him. “Just like the cowardly bastards to try to off me, but not get their own hands dirty in the process.”

“And that’s what I’m here for, right?” Clint suggested. “To take on such unpleasant but necessary tasks for the wealthy and privileged.”

He scoffed. “Really? You’re proud of that?”

A flash of petty jealousy played across the assassin’s face. “Yes, I’m proud of it! Why? Not every man has what you have. Wealth…privilege…success. Men like me, we grab hold of the glory in any way that we can. If that means killing someone, so be it. That makes me all the more powerful! And some of the locals here learned that firsthand when they wouldn’t take the sting. What worthless fools they are to place you in such high regard.” A calculating look played across his face. “The one that’s been keeping me here, I suppose that he’s right about you after all. Around here, you are a modern day, motherfucking hero.”

“And you are the spineless, freaked-up wannabe villain for Addison, correct?” he challenged, tensing in the chair. “Poetic justice for you, I suppose. I die…you get rich. Again, tell me. Whose idea was it to shank me, junior or his proud murderous papa?”

Eyes widening incredulously, the assassin threw his head back in laughter. A mirthless second later, he eyed him coldly. “Do you actually think that I’m going to tell you anything? Even I don’t have enough balls to snitch, especially on Duke Addison. I’m not telling you---”

“So, Duke Addison is running this show,” he murmured, smiling triumphantly. “That’s very telling. The noose is tightening around the bastard’s neck, and he’s feeling it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Believe what you want to believe,” Clint muttered, eyes shifting, and flushed red with embarrassment at his unintentional slip. But, he recovered quickly. “Do you know who you’re messing with? The biggest mafia that operates in that part of the south, and you’re a fool for thinking that you can win against them.”

“Watch me,” he mouthed, and the two words were barely audible. “I’m going to see both of them in hell.”

“But, you’re already standing within its fiery pits, aren’t you, and its flames are lapping around your dead soul?” Clint’s snarled cruelly. “When I’m given a job, I always make a point of getting to know my unfortunate quarry. So, I’ve done my homework on you, Jarrod Sabatino.” A cold smile lingered on his face. “Let’s just say that some interesting things came to light--- with the main fact being that you’re a dead man in the figurative sense. You’re breathing, but you’re
not alive.
”

From his stance across the room, Jarrod watched the assassin, and with a deadly edginess, he closed his hands into rock hard fists, but said nothing. Yet, the fiery anger seared his very soul, and it took everything within him to maintain control.

The assassin laughed again, spurred by his silence. “Nothing to say, huh? Well, I’ve learned quite a bit about the infallible Jarrod Sabatino. As a matter of fact, the ghosts of yesterday’s past co-exist with you, don’t they? And I know the dreadful truths that they
whisper
,” he said in a low voice, and his look was taunting again. “In the dead of night, does your wife’s pitiful cry still haunt you? Of course, I’m privy to the unfortunate details of her demise. Like the fact that she was roughed up a bit and physically assaulted. But, don’t take it personally---men like me find it necessary to wield our manly power from time to time. There’s no limit to the feeling of satisfaction that we get when we do so.” The assassin shrugged. “I suppose I’d be tormented by an action such as that if I were even remotely human.”