Hush (Black Lotus #3) (30 page)

Laying it flat on the table in front of where I sit on the couch, he looks down at me. “You’re going to call him from your phone.”

“It’s an unknown number he’s calling from.”

“There’s an identification service I had Lachlan install on your phone. It traps the numbers from any restricted calls your phone receives.”

I pull out my phone so Declan can show me where to retrieve the number, and with a few simple clicks, it pops up.

“What do I say?”

“You tell him you’re here in Chicago and want to get this over with tonight.”

It’s after two a.m. and my heart rate picks up. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Disregarding my hesitation, he goes on to instruct me on everything I need to say.

“You got all that?”

Taking a deep breath, knowing what’s about to go down, I steel myself for the inevitable as I dial Matt’s number.

“Hello?” Matt says after two rings.

“It’s me.”

“How’d you get this number?”

“Everyone is traceable. Even you, asshole,” I tell him, slinging his words back at him from when he first made contact with me. “I’m here in Chicago.”

“You move fast.”

“You want to live, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m here to save your life, so I need you to do this my way.” I’m firm in my tone and a tad shocked when he keeps his mouth shut and listens. “I don’t want any fuck-ups or you getting greedy on me. We’re meeting tonight. You’re to call the shark to meet us. I’ll make the transfer from my phone and wait until we get the verification from the shark’s account that the money has been successfully transferred.”

“Come alone. The last thing I need is your boyfriend fucking shit up because he can’t keep his cool.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be alone,” I lie. “You have ten minutes to call me back to tell me the location of our meeting place.”

I hang up before he can respond and look to Declan. He smiles. “Good girl.”

He takes a seat next to me as we wait in the darkened room, the only light coming from the glow of a lamp on the entryway table. Declan drapes his arm around my shoulder, and when I turn my head to him, he peers at me through dilated eyes, exposing the devil inside. He’s the creation of my monstrosity.

I touch his face, and he kisses me with venomous passion before ripping away from me when my cell vibrates against the wooden table.

“Yes?” I answer.

“Twenty minutes. Metra railroad yard. Meet under the Roosevelt overpass.”

“How many are coming?”

“Just me and Marco, the shark.”

“Twenty minutes.”

I disconnect the call and tell Declan where we’re meeting. He grabs his gun and then goes to the entry closet where the safe is. I can hear the beeps of the keypad as he enters the code, and when the steel door slams shut, he returns with another revolver.

“Just in case,” he says when he hands me the gun.

It’s heavy and cold in my hand, and when I release the cylinder, I see that every chamber is loaded.

“You know the plan?”

I nod.

“Tell me.”

“I know the plan.”

“You’re not to draw your gun unless absolutely necessary, okay?”

Blood swims rapidly through my body, and when I slip the gun into the back waistband of my pants, I lower my top and shrug my coat on to conceal it.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” I tell him and then walk into his arms for comfort and strength. He holds me, kisses the top of my head, and assures, “We stick to the plan and then it’ll all be over and we can go back home, okay?”

“Let’s get this over with.”

Declan goes first, leaving me behind until I get his call. I wait anxiously as he goes to switch off the security cameras. After a few minutes of pacing the room, my phone rings.

“I’m in my office,” he states.

I move quickly, making my way down to him, and we exit the building through the back corridors that lead into the parking garage. Before I know it, we’re zipping through the streets of Chicago on our way to the river.

The drive is tense. No words are spoken at all. We both know our parts and what we have to do.

Turning into the train yard, Declan hits the lights. Everything goes black as we weave through lines of train cars. When we edge closer to the water, I spot Matt with a tall man, thick with bulky muscles.

“That’s him,” I whisper.

Declan stops the car and shuts it off. “You ready?”

Our eyes lock. “Yes.”

The moment Declan opens his door, Matt draws his gun and fires. It’s a botched shot, but sends me into instant defense mode. Without sparing a second, all guns are drawn in an outburst of chaos.

“What the fuck, Elizabeth?” Matt shouts, but my focus is on the automatic Marco has aimed at me while Declan claims Matt as his target.

So many words are being thrown around at the same time as sparks of fear ignite within me.

“On your fucking knees,” Declan yells.

“Fuck you!” Matt throws back.

It’s a frenzy all around me, but my only point of concentration is right in front of me—Marco and his gun.

“Elizabeth,” Declan’s voice calls from behind in worriment, to which I respond in a steady voice, “I’m okay.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The shark snaps at Matt, berating him as he keeps his gun pointed at me.

“Marco,” I greet in a strong voice, needing him to see me as nothing other than a woman in complete control. He stands a good one foot taller than me and the moon reflects off his shiny bald head. He’s intimidating as hell, but I refuse to let it show. “I’m not looking to bullshit around tonight. The fact that my pistol is on you is a mere result of your client firing his gun. Clearly he’s as dumb as he looks because without us, you don’t get your money and he’s a dead man.” With Marco’s gun targeted on me, I instruct, “You need money from this ass wipe, and I intend on covering his part along with enough to make you forget this night ever happened. But I’m going to need you to holster your gun. You do that, and mine is down as well. But you need to get that little shit under control too.”

“You’re my kind of girl. Elizabeth, right?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be; I’m not here to make friends.”

“I like you,” he says before taking his aim off of me and swinging his arm around to Matt.

“You’re a fucking idiot!” he scolds and then pulls the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Matt’s leg, collapsing him down to the ground in an instant. Marco doesn’t bat an eye when he holsters his gun and turns back to me while Matt screams in agony.

I watch as Declan picks up Matt’s gun before I look back to Marco and shove my pistol into the waist of my pants. “I give you my word that we have no intention of doing you any wrong. That man right there,” I tell him, nodding my head to Declan. “He’s not too happy that your client has put me in harm’s way. So, let me tell you how this night is going to go. You give me the account number you want me to wire the money into. I suggest it be whatever offshore account you no doubt hold, because I intend on dumping a lot of fucking cash into it. Then we wait. When the money is transferred, my friend holding the gun is going to teach Matt a lesson. You’re more than welcome to watch, but I’ll leave that choice to you. Then I plan on going home and getting some sleep.”

My orders are to the point.

“You’re good,” he compliments.

“I’ve dabbled in enough cons for one life.”

“Elizabeth!” Matt’s voice is terror-stricken. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Shut the fuck up, dickfuck!” Declan shouts, and when I look at Matt over my shoulder, I tell him with a smile, “Who’s the cunt now?”

“Please, man. Don’t kill me!”

Declan steps closer and presses the muzzle of the gun against Matt’s forehead. “I told you to shut the fuck up.”

Matt continues to flap his pathetic mouth, begging Declan to spare his life, but I turn back to Marco. “Let’s speed this up; I’ve had a long day.”

“My phone is in my pocket,” he tells me so I don’t assume he’s reaching for a weapon.

“I’ll get it.” I trust no one.

I pull it out and hand it to him before retrieving my own phone. I wait as he pulls up the bank account he wants to use for the transfer. He proceeds to provide all the information that I need to conduct the wire, and once the country code and numbers are all entered, we wait for the delivery. It takes about fifteen minutes for Marco’s bank account to update and reflect the deposit.

“Fuck me.” His face grows in satisfaction when he sees the amount of zeros in the transaction.

“Are we done here?”

His eyes meet mine, and he shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Done and forgotten.”

“Marco, come on, man! Don’t leave me here,” Matt begs through the pain of his bloody leg.

“I’m not leaving. Not yet anyways.” Marco backs up, and when I turn over my shoulder to look at him, he straightens out his coat and says, “Can’t be getting my new coat dirty,” with a wink.

When I focus back on Matt, his eyes spiral out of control as he continues to plead. “Come on! I swear to you, I’ll leave you alone, Elizabeth. Don’t shoot me.”

“You threw my life away to keep yours, and now you’re begging me to save you? You’re unsaveable, Matt. You always have been.”

“It’s me, Elizabeth! Come on!” His body tremors in inexorable fear. It coats his face in a layer of sweat.

“The only thing I owe you before you die is a
thank you
.”

“What the fuck?”

“Thank you for handing me the match the night we burned Carl and Bobbi. It’s the best gift you ever gave me.”

“You fucked up the moment you put her life in danger.” Declan’s voice is guttural, his eyes merciless.

“Don’t do this, man. Plea—”

BANG.

Matt’s blood sprays across the side of my face and clothes as the crack of gunfire echoes through the night. His body collapses as dark blood pours out of the hole in his head. Clumps of his brain litter the gravel surrounding us. Declan stands above his unmoving body, aims the gun down, and ensures his death.

BANG.

BANG.

Behind the ringing in my ears, I hear Marco’s distant voice, “That’s gonna be a bitch to clean up,” followed by stones crunching under his feet and the slam of his car door. The tires of his SUV roll over the rocks of the train yard, and then he’s gone.

Declan remains fixed above Matt’s dead body; he’s a cold-blooded phoenix, no longer the man he once was when I met him in Chicago. He’s the creation of my monstrosity, forever changed as a result of my demented soul. He fell in love with the devil when he fell in love with me.

When his eyes shift to me, I go to him, grab his blood-streaked face, and affirm, “I love you,” before kissing him through the metallic taste of death.

“AT LEAST YOU
got to see him. You always said you’d do anything to have him back for just one more second. You got that and more.”

“It still hurts.”

“I know.”

Pike tightens his arms around me as I lay my head on his chest. He’s been with me ever since Declan left earlier to pay Lachlan a visit. I haven’t been able to get out of bed since we returned to London yesterday. Everything came to a standstill when we boarded the plane in Chicago. All of a sudden, there were no more distractions, and the weight of the past few days came crashing down on me.

I’m sad.

I miss my dad.

“He’s alive though.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

His fingers comb through my hair while I grip a wad of his white shirt that embodies the scent of his clove cigarettes.
“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if his life is plagued with the agony he told me he carries with him every day, wouldn’t death be better? This world forces people to endure incredible pain. It’s like we’re all a bunch of masochists because we continue to choose life over death.”

“That’s a morbid thought.”

“But it’s true, right?” I tilt my head back to look at his beautiful face—young and free from stress. “Do you feel anything now that you’re . . .”

“Dead?”
he says, picking up the word that hurts too much to say.
“I miss you, but it doesn’t feel like it did when I was alive. It’s hard to describe. Somehow, I’m always at peace even though I miss you.”

“Missing you is excruciating.”

“I wish I could take it away from you, but you have so much to live for. You have a life with Declan. He’s good to you. He protects you. There are no boundaries for him when it comes to protecting you—he’ll do anything.”

I move to sit up in bed, and when Pike does the same, we face each other. “Are you mad about what we did to Matt?”

“No. I agree with Declan; all bets were off the moment that fucker put your life on the line.”

I gaze into his eyes and release a deep breath before telling him, “I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

His hand comes to meet my face, and I notice his eyes morph into a laden expression.
“Do you think I took advantage of you?”

“What?”

He drops his head for a beat before returning to me, and he finally voices for the first time what I’ve always known.
“I was in love with you my whole life.”
His eyes glaze over, tear-filled, and he tells me,
“All I wanted was to make you happy. No matter what you asked of me, I gave it to you—even when I knew it was wrong.”