Torque Page 3

  I smirked. “How is it that your brother hasn’t come up before now?”

  “We’re not close.”

  No kidding. “Thought we were avoiding the obvious.” I had a feeling she was avoiding something more.

  “Then, what do you want to know?” She shrugged, her attempt at keeping her movements cool and nonchalant however, didn’t reach her face, which she kept slightly angled away. “I never talked to Devlin about my family. Told him there wasn’t anyone to go back to. It was mostly true.”

  “Is you’re brother who you’re running from?”

  “No,” she said defensively, but as soon as she met my gaze, she looked away again, feigning interest over a top before shoving it into the already stuffed bag. “I—we just don’t see eye-to-eye.”

  “Your parents?”

  She spun around and put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you tell me about your parents?”

  Avoiding again, but she’d also happened to hit my pressure point in the process. I shrugged, trying to keep her out from under my skin while blocking her control over the conversation. It never failed, she always tried to hook back the conversation to get at me—or get something from me. “Nothing to tell.”

  “Well, Devlin seemed fairly concerned when your Dad showed up last night.”

  Was that the distraction she used to get away? “Devlin’s dad. He was ‘kind’ enough to adopt me. My dad has never been around.”

  Kind enough, right. It was a power move, and I knew it then as much as I do now. Everything with Merc was some kind of power play. Adopting me, well, it added to his “nice businessman” front, and gave him what he saw as another henchman to control. I was simply meant to add to his growing army. Mom had been under his control for as long as I could remember. That’s the environment I was born into. She tried all of my life to shield me from it, but it never failed to seep in around the edges.

  Like Aubrey, she’d tried to run. She’d tried to get help. And she’d tried to build her own independence. But she understood exactly how the game was played and learned to leverage all of the pieces to get what she wanted—even if she never got freedom. She was always scheming to make sure I had that freedom and falling back on her exploits to make sure I had a trust fund set up. One that Merc, no matter his connections, could never touch. A fund that paid for college, paid for me to get out of this damn town. And, of course, the key piece—blackmail that could keep anyone from pulling me back in.

  I, however, had fucked that trump card. With my own stupidity and negligence, really. I didn’t run far enough or keep my own brother at a safe distance. I fucked where I wasn’t supposed to fuck. Snorted what I wasn’t supposed to snort. Stole what I wasn’t supposed to have. And landed right where my family’s fate wanted me to be.

  “And he’s in on all of this? The club…?” she asked.

  For such a nitwit, she sure had a way of taking hold of the conversation to lead it on an endless string of questions, but I let her continue for the time being. It might help her to understand exactly what she was dealing with. “Where do you think we got our start? Devlin is Merc’s right-hand man.”

  “And you?”

  And me… If only I was half as good at playing from all sides as my mother had been. “I find my own way. I prefer cars over dealing with people.”

  “I’m sure you do them proud,” she rolled her eyes.

  “Not even close,” I said out of annoyance. I didn’t care to elaborate any further. Jumping off the bed, I sat the box of her sex toys on top of one of the boxes she’d packed. They’d come in handy later. I was tired of the walk down memory lane, I didn’t want to remember how Mom raised me to be a very different person. How I fought long and hard to be that person and still ended up here.

  Maybe Aubrey was my outlet for all that hatred and regret.

  Maybe…

  I didn’t really care. I wondered how far I could go and still not care.

  Maybe my body had survived this long, but what else had?

  Certainly not my conscience.

  Right. Wrong.

  Pain. Pleasure.

  Good. Bad.

  It was all a matter of perspective. Fate doesn’t care if you’re a good man. It’ll fuck you over or give you the ride of your life regardless. Rich man. Poor man. We’re all life victims from beginning to end. Fate has no conscience, no remorse for ass fucking you without lube. No remorse for throwing you off a cliff just to let you live and suffer the consequences.

  Hollywood is wrong. The bad guys win. And we look better doing it, too.

  We win because we don’t worry about dragging people like Aubrey down with us.

  The underworld holds the power.

  That was fate. Life is pain. Pain is life. All any smart man can do is attack it with everything he has and enjoy the ride as long as it lasts.

  “Are you done?” I groaned, slamming an empty drawer closed. “Or are we waiting for Devlin to show up?”

  “I’m ready, but you haven’t exactly been reassuring about this new problem.”

  “New?” I shook my head and threw a bag over my shoulder. “Devlin hasn’t pulled a new scheme since he was fifteen. Play along and give him what he wants.”

  “Oh, sure, like he’s not likely to ask me to kill you or anything.”

  “Just warn me first,” I said flatly as I headed toward the door with a load of her stuff.

  She laughed, but I glared back. I wasn’t kidding.

  “You’re supposed to make him go away.”

  If she didn’t shut up soon, I’d take her right back to Devlin. Sure, I told myself, she has quite the reason to ask questions and worry. But it wouldn’t fucking get her anywhere. “Next time I find a magician, I’ll do just that.”

  I took another step, hoping she’d grab the rest of her things and follow, but she didn’t move.

  “He’s… If you hate him so much…” She looked shocked at her own words—or her own thoughts.

  “You want me to kill him?” I almost laughed out loud. “Didn’t think you had murder in you.”

  “I don’t. I didn’t….” With every word her argument grew weaker. “What if I’m trapped forever—or worse, he goes after my family?”

  Fucking family. A fucking liability I didn’t need. “I’m talking to Wilson this afternoon. If he joins the game, I should have all the leverage I need.”

  “And what makes you think he will? I assume that experienced men in your industry aren’t as easy to con as I am.”

  I almost had to appreciate the self-deprecation, but I still hated having to explain every detail of my plans. Especially since—in this case—I was making it up as I went along. When boosting a car, I got every detail in advance. When, where, schedules, codes, escape routes, contingency plans—nothing went unaddressed. I knew how to get each car in the shortest amount of time possible. How to render alarms completely useless in seconds. How to start any engine without anyone ever being the wiser to what was going on.

  This was different.

  This was spur of the moment, running on instinct and pulling ideas out of my ass. “Just do as you’re told,” I said. “You took the deal so stop questioning me.”

  “I agreed before your douche bag of a brother threatened my niece. She’s five and you may not care about anyone, but I can’t let him hurt her.”

  I dropped the bag of clothes to the floor, grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her close. “Are you saying I’m heartless?”

  The bag of clothes fell out of her hand and splattered against the floor. “Aside from cars and dogs, yes.”

  I pulled her up until she balanced on her tiptoes. As much as ninety-nine percent of my consciousness wanted to revel in that compliment, there was one tiny cell in my brain that twinged with her observation. It’s reaction echoing through the rest of my more rational thoughts like nails on a chalk board.

  I released her and she took a step back. “You do have a lot of toys,” I said, taking back control over the co
nversation. “I didn’t expect that.”

  She took two steps back, picking up the clothes and shoving them back in the bag. “At least I got something unexpected over on you.”

  I turned away before the urge to torture her more became too much. Then, I picked up my load again and headed for my car. I wasn’t stopping this time. No matter what she said. No matter what she did. It was time to get her back home so I could deal with getting the rest of this plan set.

  We stuffed the boxes and bags into the back seat of my car—the trunk was filled with tools and junk Aubrey didn’t need to be rifling through yet.

  I was moving a girl into my house. That was a definite turn of events I hadn’t seen coming.

  Not after last time.

  I caught her expression as I straightened my back. She was still eyeing the toys I’d brought along, and I wondered what else I might find in the box.

  She didn’t come across as the sexually experimental type, so I had to wonder about the collection. Especially that vibrator. I would have a lot of fun with that thing.

  When we hit Main Street, my phone buzzed. I held it up, expecting Devlin’s name, but E. W. flashed on the screen.

  Eli Wilson. The town’s second largest con-man. Devlin only wished he had the man’s talents, even though Devlin’s holdings were already much larger in comparison. That was only because of his connection to Merc. Both Devlin and Wilson wanted what the other had. And they both hated each other enough to prevent the other from gaining the advantage one way or another. And so they grew and battled it out, every day a struggle for more, better, shinier.

  A deal between them had the potential to rip the city apart. It also had the potential to rival Merc’s empire if played properly. One little agreement could upset the balance of power. Devlin would want to show the world what he was capable of. He’d never pass up that opportunity. I was banking on it.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Something came up,” he spoke slowly as if it took effort to think up each word before he said it. He was probably cock deep into something else he’d rather be doing. “If you want to meet, swing by now.”

  “Now?” I repeated. Taking Aubrey anywhere near his place was a headache I didn’t need.

  “I’m a busy man. Whatever you have going on can surely wait.” Pleasant and self-inflated as ever.

  Ego. That fucking ego. The only thing worse than sinking down to their level was bowing down before them and stroking their damn egos to get what I wanted.

  I swallowed and kept my voice reasonably even and agreeable. “I can be there in ten.”

  Disconnecting the call, I pulled into a parking lot to turn around.

  “What now?” Aubrey asked.

  “Your day is about to get a lot more interesting.”

  “I’d settle for a quiet day on a couch staring at the ceiling.”

  “And given the choice I’d rather leave you there, too. But I have a meeting with Wilson now. The more I give in and do things his way, the more appeasable he’ll be.”

  “You don’t talk like a car thief.”

  The base of my skull tingled. “What does a car thief talk like?”

  She shrugged. “You’re just always talking strategy and deals.”

  “What do you think stealing cars involves, darlin’?”

  Sinking into the seat she stared out the window. “It’s… I don’t know.”

  But her observation still left me on edge. Like she’d seen some buried secret of mine—impossible. She wasn’t the observant type, there was no way she was climbing into my brain and figuring out any of my secrets or plans.

  Chapter 4

  There was more to Colt than I could put my finger on. Something that he kept avoiding and tucking away when I dug to find it. If I could just figure it out, maybe I’d have an advantage to use. I was his leverage and fuck toy, but I was determined to find a way to make sure I didn’t end up the victim in all of this. I wanted my own insurance. At least some kind of guarantee that I could get away and my family would be safe.

  Safe? As if I even knew what that meant anymore. My mind was so fucked up I’d gone as far as considering murder—or at the very least asking whether Colt had considered it.

  Who was I kidding? If I had considered murdering Devlin, Colt surely had. But we went from one crisis right on to the next. Escaping Devlin, stealing a car, surviving night one of one hundred sixty with Colt, and now, I was helplessly on my way to meet yet another crime lord of some sort. Even worse, my future was dependent on his decision whether or not to jump on Colt’s insane plan.

  Colt sat hunched sideways with his left arm propped against the door, and right arm draped casually over the steering wheel. He’d left his long brown hair down, and it twisted with messy waves nearly down to his shoulders. I hated him, but why did I also feel bad for him? Because he’d survived a lifetime of Devlin? Because he offered to get me away from all of this? Eventually…. But only if this plan worked. “What if Wilson doesn’t agree?”

  His distant eyes hardened with my question. “Then, I convince him.”

  He always had a simple answer. Simple and unconvincing. “You over-promised, didn’t you?”

  My stomach and lungs collided. Colt had seemed so confident in his offer while he was on the phone with Devlin, but now I saw the glimmer of apprehension shining through the cracks. What if Colt couldn’t deliver on his promises? Where did that leave either of us?

  “I’ve built a good rapport with Wilson.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I knew he might be a key to getting to Devlin one day.”

  “And you’re using me that key for me—oh, no, you’re using me, too.” Sometimes, the more I dug, the more he didn’t seem that much different from Devlin. People were just tools, keys, or stepping stones in a bigger plan.

  His expression froze somewhere between a scowl and a smile. “You knew what you were getting into.”

  “Did I?” I whispered. Challenging him never turned out well, but I continued doing it despite my better judgement. It was a defense mechanism. More than that, he was getting the brunt of all my anger and frustration at being helpless for so long. Digging for knowledge and pushing him for the truth were the only ways I really felt like I could survive—or even matter—in this world. “I’m getting tired of being dragged deeper without knowing where the exit is. And I didn’t know Devlin would go after my family.”

  That was partially a lie. I’d never talked about them at first because it was too hard, and then, I just didn’t want Devlin to know about them. I wanted to keep them out of the hell I’d dug myself into.

  “Well, surprise, darlin’. What would you put beneath Devlin?”

  Good question. Colt and Devlin shared many similarities—especially in how they treated and dealt with people. I loathed them both for it, but at the same time, despite Colt’s jackass tendencies, he frightened me far less. It unnerved me to think about it. To see him as anything except the enemy.

  I wanted to keep a thick line of hatred distancing myself from him--sometimes that was far easier than others—but I couldn’t escape the reality that we were in this together. Siding with him was the only way to keep myself and my family safe.

  How did I ever end up in a situation where I had to wager my body just to protect my family?

  I had come to this town so I didn’t have to think about my family. Mom getting remarried was the final straw. A blow to everything I had held so tightly to. Part of me understood her need to rebuild and move on, but watching her play Mommy to three new kids and wifey to a stranger was too much.

  I wanted the parents I’d grown up with. Not a monument to a father who’d never returned from the military, a step-father I barely recognized, and a brother constantly battling it out with his baby momma.

  I loved them. I really did. So much that it hurt. And yet, I refused them a place in my life.

  I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do it. My emotions remained stuck in some place I didn’t understand. They were
there, I felt them. They burned and seared at my soul, cauterizing it and cutting off the connections with my brain. I carried them around like a suitcase, feeling their weight as they tested my muscles but never connecting with them in a meaningful way.

  I felt like I hacked them all away when Dad was called to active duty. I tied up my anger at the reserves, with the pain of watching him on that bus, the sadness of reading his letters, and the helplessness of life continuing while he was away. When he didn’t return, I never bothered to unpack any of that. I just kept adding more and more to the case. Cutting myself off from everyone.

  Almost everyone.

  I was a daddy’s girl, a tomboy. I didn’t speak the same language as mom. I understood running to blow off steam, knew more about firearms than shoes. Dad always talked about rebuilding a car, but Mom would never agree to letting him get it. Sometimes I blamed her for taking that away from me even though I never had it in the first place.

  I found comfort in a teacher. Without my dad, he became a part of my support system. He was easier to talk to than Mom. But that was too good to last as well. The mess that erupted during his divorce was as bad as any political smear campaign. Worse because that sinking ship pulled me down with it.

  With whispered rumors that he’d had an affair, all eyes fell on me. The girl who stayed after school to talk to him.

  That wasn’t us. What we had wasn’t like anyone assumed, yet the talk got worse and worse until he finally moved away to get away from it all. I never knew if the rumors or reputation followed him, but I was stuck with the whispers long after I graduated.

  Even at home, I always felt surrounded by the suspicious glances. While the entire town was staring at me, it was my brother who ended up as a single father.

  And I ended up running away from it all.

  Now, here I was with a car thief, running even faster. Maybe the experience of rebuilding that car would have come in handy, not that I’d ever know.

  As we pulled up outside a large house on the east side of town, all of that faded from my brain. I always thought this was where all the doctors and CEOs lived. Never really considered that it might just be a hub of crime. But then, what in this town wasn’t?