Remorseless (Fractured Farrells: A Damaged Billionaire Series Book 3) (22 page)

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L
ogan had three interviews left. He knew because every time he got stressed, he’d mentally count the number remaining. Or sometimes he’d count the number he’d done already. Either way, the knowledge that he’d be out of there any second now gave him enough mental strength to answer mundane question after mundane question.

On one hand, the questions got easier. Or at least repetitive. He could give the politically correct answers to “What was the hardest part of prison” and “What did you miss most?” and “Do you struggle with anger now?” The fifth time he heard them, he’d officially memorized the answers. But the lights in his face, the strangers with microphones, and the constricting suit and tie that felt as though it were cutting off his air made even the repetitive questions annoying as hell.

So when the pretty receptionist he remembered from the front desk walked in during the middle of his interview, he was almost relieved.

“Logan, I’ve got a call for you. It’s your brother, Alex.”

Thank fuck.
“I’m so sorry, I need to take this,” he said to the girl who looked as if she was barely out of her teens who was interviewing him.

“Oh. Okay.” Her smile faltered and she looked around for someone to assure her that she’d still get to finish her interview, but Logan couldn’t care less right now. If Alex was giving him a lifeline, he was taking it. As he followed the receptionist to her desk, he loosened his tie. He’d have to tighten it as soon as he got back to the interviews, but he needed the momentary release.

When the receptionist went behind her desk, he did too. This was his family’s business. He was allowed behind desks.

“Here you go.” The receptionist hit a button on the phone at her desk before she handed it over to him.

“I left the charger in the bag next to the bed,” said Logan as soon as he answered.

“Fuck the charger. I just ran into someone who broke into your apartment.”

Logan’s grip tightened on the phone. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Did I say breaking in? I meant they used a goddamn key. Who could’ve gotten a copy? I have yours. You only had two, right?”

Stark fear hit Logan hard. “Julie. I gave Julie my other key.”

“Do you think she—”

Logan put the phone down and went straight to the elevators.
Julie wouldn’t have given the key to anyone.
She guarded his privacy more than anyone, probably more than even Alex. She didn’t accidentally drop the key anywhere, and she didn’t give it to anyone.

Whoever was using the thing had taken it from her. Which meant he needed to get to her now.

He hit the down button as hard as he could as the fear circulated through his body. Every muscle felt the need to act. To do something. Yet all he could do was
hit...the...damn...button.

The doors finally opened right as someone touched his shoulder. If it was a reporter, he was going to punch them, he swore to God. “I need to—”

He broke off when he saw the receptionist behind him, her cheery expression replaced with a look of annoyance. “Alex again.” She handed over her cell phone. “He promised you’d give this back to me.”

“Thanks,” was all he could manage as he took the phone from the woman, whose name he really wished he remembered right now, and got in the elevator. “Alex?” he said into the receiver.

“I’m already on my way to you. Do you know where Julie’s apartment is?”

“No, I— She never told me.”

“Meet me downstairs. We’ll get her, Logan. I promise.”

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“T
he papers are there. I promise,” said Julie.

The guy in her apartment kept looking at his phone and back at her. The more time passed, the more worried she became. Sure, Logan had printed out the documents, but that didn’t mean they were still in his apartment. He could’ve taken them with him to share with Alex. He could’ve thrown them away. Hell, he could’ve tucked them away in some nook or cranny that whoever Psycho Guy was working with would never think to check.

The kicker was that she was screwed either way. Once he found what he believed to be the only copy of the documentation Alecia had given them, he was going to kill her. And once he realized that he couldn’t find them or that there were already numerous digital copies, he was going to kill her. She’d seen his face now. No matter how old she lived to be, she’d never forget what he looked like.

Psycho Guy didn’t exactly live up to his name. She would’ve felt a bit more secure if he had crazy eyes and everything about him screamed serial killer. But if she hadn’t seen the crazy firsthand, she would never know. He was so...average.

Tall, but not as tall as Logan. Maybe around six feet. His hair was a light brown, with a close buzz cut, probably to disguise the thinning hair. He was more than strong enough to tie the knots in the extension cord holding her wrists behind her back tight enough to burn, but he didn’t look like a bodybuilder or anything. Just average.

“You have five minutes before I start to think that you’re full of shit. I don’t think you want to be on my bad side.”

She’d been on his good side? Who knew?
She pulled against the cord holding her, but there was no give at all. In the movies, there would always be something sharp nearby to use to cut the bonds, but the only thing she could reach was empty air. Psycho Guy had left her legs free, but that didn’t do her a damn bit of good when he was standing in her kitchen and pointing a gun in her direction.

Psycho Guy finally shook his head. “Time’s up, sweetheart.”

“It hasn’t been five minutes!”
Something sharp. Anything sharp. If MacGyver was in this situation, what would he do?

“It’s been long enough.” He pressed something on his phone and brought it to his ear. “It’s me. I haven’t heard back from the courier.” There was a pause as he listened to the guy on the other end of the line. “For all I know he’s getting high somewhere. I’m getting antsy. I need to get the hell out of here.”

He was thinking the same thing she was. The more time she had, the more likely she was to get free.

“I was thinking I’d do it off the roof. It will look like an accident and you’ll be good.”

He was going to throw her off the roof?
She pulled at the extension cord with renewed force. She pulled so hard that the circulation was completely cut off, but she didn’t care. At least they could see the marks on her dead body and realize she was murdered.

“I can get her up with no one noticing. It will draw less attention than a gunshot. Yeah, I’m sure. Gallagher, I’m the one putting my neck on the line. I—” He broke off and started nodding. “Fine, but it had better be in my account by tonight.”

He put the phone away and then pulled out his gun. “This is going to be a quick one,” he said to himself as he aimed the muzzle right at her. “Now let’s try this one more time...”

This was it.
There was nowhere to run and no time to scream. So she did the only thing she could think of and threw all her weight to the left as Psycho Guy fired. The next five seconds was a blur as everything happened at once. The first thing she was pretty sure about was that the bullet had missed her. Then the sharp pain in her shoulder took over all her thoughts as Psycho Guy crossed the kitchen toward her. “Bad move,” he warned.

But before he shot again, the door burst open and two figures spilled through. Psycho Guy started to turn the gun toward them, but Julie kicked out and nailed him right in the back of the knee. He didn’t fall, but his arm went wide as he tried to catch his balance. One of the two figures slammed into Psycho Guy and they both fell to the floor.
Logan...
“Logan!” she screamed.
No! You run away from the crazy man with a gun, not toward him!

The other man, Alex, was at her side and tugging at her bindings.

“What the hell are you doing? Go help him!”

“You first. He made me promise,” grunted Alex as he pulled at the cord around her wrists. The knot that had seemed so impossible a few seconds ago came untied in seconds with his help. As soon as she was free, she rolled onto her bad arm without thinking and gasped at the sharp pain.
No. She needed to get to—

Logan knocked the gun out of Psycho Guy’s hand; it slid across the floor and right in front of Julie. She snatched it up and started to go to Logan, but Alex wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back. “He’s got this,” said Alex.

“No, he doesn’t. He needs—” She broke off as Logan laid a solid hit to Psycho Guy and his head bounced off the linoleum of her kitchen.

“He’s got this,” repeated Alex, and this time Julie didn’t argue. Psycho Guy might be crazy and willing to do anything for money, but Logan was bigger, stronger, and undoubtedly more pissed off.

Alex carefully took the gun from her, and she let him have it. She couldn’t take her eyes off Logan. Just like at the gas station, he pounded on Psycho Guy, but this time, he was wearing a nice suit and inside her home. But once again, he was doing it for her.

Before he could do any more damage, two police officers stormed into her apartment, firearms drawn. That was when Logan finally looked up and met her eyes.

Julie’s life was never going to be the same again.

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L
ogan drummed his fingers on the table. The last time he’d dealt with police, the outcome had been very different. He still remembered the day everything had changed vividly. They’d burst through the door to his office and swarmed in. Maybe not swarmed—there had only been six—but at the time it had seemed like an impassable force. Even when they’d shown him the warrant, he’d laughed in their faces.
Arresting a Farrell. The morons would be out of a job within days.

It wasn’t until he saw Walter’s knowing face that reality had crashed down on him.

Even though this was a completely different situation, he couldn’t help but feel the same. The knowledge that after today, things would never be the same.

Alex was talking with the officers, and from what Logan could tell, they were about to leave. Julie rubbed a hand over her sore shoulder as she nodded at something the officer talking to her had said. The man who had the gun, the one Logan had beat the shit out of, had been taken off to the hospital in cuffs over an hour ago. The detectives were confident he’d talk, and Logan believed them. He’d gotten a crash course in criminal minds when he was locked up. No matter how tight-knit a criminal organization was, the percentage of inmates who talked was overwhelming.

And from what he’d seen from this man, he wasn’t exactly the personification of loyalty. Julie had said that she heard him talking to Tate Gallagher, and he’d said Gallagher’s name during the conversation. As long as the police could link Gallagher to whatever number the guy had called, they would have concrete evidence linking them. If there was a money transfer, Gallagher would be taken in on conspiracy charges. And Logan would devote every cent in his bank account to making sure no lawyer even halfway decent would take the bastard’s case.

He kept drumming his fingers on the table and forced himself to look away from Julie. He knew the police wanted to talk to her alone. They’d wanted to take all three of them to the precinct to get an official statement, but Alex had managed to convince them to take care of it locally to prevent any unnecessary press coverage.