Wounded Courage (Lucky Thirteen) (24 page)

“Why do you have to be such an obnoxious girl?”

“Do you really want me to respond to that?” I should have kept my mouth shut. I was dealing with a killer, and I was taunting him. But for some reason, my mouth had become my defense mechanism. Luckily, he didn’t rise to the bait.

“All right. Finish your meal, kitten. We have nothing but time.” He leaned back in the chair, and crossed his arms over his chest in smug indignation.

“Tell me,” Murphy spoke for the first time, evenly, calmly. “What’s the plan when we get in station?”

Jean’s lips quirked upward on one side. “We go to see my father, of course.”

“In one piece?”

Jean chuckled. “Of course. I have no desire to kill any of you.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered.

“My brother made sure of that, my little kitten, didn’t he?”

Murphy looked at me, and I couldn’t tell what exactly was going through his head. I cleared my throat. “I suppose he did.” I took a small satisfaction of seeing the smugness slip from Jean’s face for just that moment before he gained control again.

“Of course, this does not apply to your brother or your friend here.”

I leaned forward, feeling brave. “That is true. I would suggest that we keep this civil instead of trying to engage threats, Jean.”

Jean nodded. “Of course, kitten. I told you. I have no desire to kill any of you.”

Not now, anyway. I had considered the fact that Jean wouldn’t be bound by legalities to keep Murphy or Chris alive. But I was banking on him following his father’s orders, because Simon knew as well as I did, if he killed a member of Thirteen, he’d have hell on his hands. Every single team member would be out for blood, as they had been for Brody when he was captured. And no one wanted angry SEALs on their hands. Not even Simon Giroux.

Jean grinned wider. “Now, eat up, kitten. We’ll be getting off at the next stop and we still have to get your bags.”

~*~*~

Murphy

From the dining car, Jean and his men walked us back to our compartments. The gun against my chest was warm, and calling for me to use it, but it wasn’t the right moment yet. If I did, Addison would be the one hurt.

I kept her by my side, between Hardy and me, so she would be as safe as possible. And I noticed when as we passed into the car, Jean’s men locked the door. The ones ahead of us did the same thing with the other end of the car.

We stopped in front of our sleeper compartments. Jean grinned, and brushed my leather jacket open, revealing the gun I had there. “Convenient that this is here.”

“Jean, don’t.” Addison said.

“Don’t worry, kitten. You know I wouldn’t hurt my favorite little pet.” He stepped back without turning. “But I also don’t need to keep track of three of you.”

“No!” Addison shook her head and started toward Jean. I grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back against me, holding tight as she struggled. He pointed the gun at us. “We have five minutes before we get in station. And I have a decision to make.” He looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. Someone grabbed Addison from me. “There. Decision made.”

In a split second, he turned his gun toward Chris and the loud crack through the air, followed by Addison’s agonized scream punched a hole into my lungs. I lost my breath. Chris crumbled to the floor immediately. Blood began to pool beneath him.

“Chris!” Addison screamed. She glared at Jean. “You fucking bastard! He wasn’t doing anything!”

“Like I said, I don’t need three of you to babysit. Really, I don’t even need two. So, don’t press your luck, kitten.”

She tried to wrench herself loose from the guy who held her, but he kept a tight hold on her. Jean pointed my gun at my head. “Would you be so kind as to move him into his compartment?”

I stepped carefully over to Chris. Slowly, I lifted him by under his arms, and pulled him into the compartment.

Chris was conscious still, but in obvious pain. He looked up at me with clouded eyes. “Take care of her.”

“I will.”

“Think of her.”

“I think of nothing else,” I told him.

Chris leaned toward me, gripping my shirt with a bloody hand. “You promise me she stays safe. You stick to her. She never leaves your sight.”

“You have my word.”

Chris groaned and dropped back to the floor. He gave me a short nod.

“How fucking sweet,” Jean said. “Come, lover boy. Time to go.”

I could hear the train’s brakes beyond our car. We were coming into station. I looked down, at Chris’s bloody hands. I couldn’t do anything for him. Not now. I covered his hand with mine, and squeezed his wrist with the watch on it until I saw the countdown start.

I stood up, feeling sick. I had Chris’s handprint on my shirt, his blood on my hands. His expression was hazy as he nodded. “Go.”

I stepped out of the compartment and one of the men shut the door, cutting me off from my best friend. Addison was hysterical, screaming and sobbing for her brother. I came back over to her, taking her from the man that held her. She buried herself in my chest, her entire body convulsing in pain and fear.

“Shall we?” Jean asked. He pocketed my gun inside his jacket. “Bring their bags.”

I kept Addison close to me. She wasn’t in any kind of sane form. She reminded me of the day we were shot at, when we’d gone to the first storage unit. Her sobs hiccuped into silence and she didn’t move away from the way she held me.

Addison

It took everything I had to walk away from my brother, dying alone in a train compartment. I didn’t know how Murphy was able to do it. I was a wreck, completely unable to separate what I had to do with what had just happened.

My brother was dying. And he was on his own.

We were put into a limousine, with Jean across from us. As we left the small station behind, and the road turned into countryside, Jean shook his head. “And now you know how it feels to lose a brother.”

I turned my head toward him, feeling the intense rage within me, churning, so hard and out of control. “There was no reason to shoot him. I was doing what you asked of me.”

“That’s very true. There was no real reason, other than he was important to you, and I wanted you to know what losing a brother feels like. And because of you, I’ve lost two.”

Murphy pulled me back toward him, and I let him, sitting back against the seat near him. His hands were stained with dried blood, his shirt too from where Chris had grabbed it. I would never forget the look on Chris’s face, or the sheer glee on Jean’s.

A lifetime later, the car we were in stopped at the lush iron gates of the Giroux complex. And a complex it was. Simon Giroux was too rich to stop with one building on the premises. And since he ran most of his operations from this place, he needed the space.

Stretched out before us were a series of buildings. The center building was massive, four floors high, windows overlooking the courtyard, and several balconies. And on each balcony was a man, armed to the teeth.

On either side of the center building there were two more buildings  in almost a circular arrangement, like those buildings were guarding the one in the center. They matched the one in the center, except they were slightly higher. Almost like watch towers, except for rich people.

The car continued on from the gates once they opened. The gravel road made the ride less than smooth all the way up to the main building. The drive curled around in a circle, and we stopped in front of the house.

Jean got out first, walking to the guard at the front door. I glanced at Murphy. “You’ve been quiet.” Silent was more like it. He hadn’t said much of anything since the train. Not that we’d been alone since then.

“Just watching,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I can’t… stop… I see him, Murphy.”

He looked like he wanted to respond, but Jean leaned into the open door before he could. “Come along. We’ll wait for my father in the study.”

Murphy got out first, and held his hand out to me. I took it, and he helped me out of the car. The house seemed so much more massive this close, and ten times more intimidating. The bravery I’d felt earlier on the train, and even in the car, melted away into the abyss, and left me cold.

Murphy took my hand in his, squeezing mine tightly as he led me toward the door, and into the lion’s den.

If the outside was luxurious, then the inside of the house was decadent. High vaulted ceilings, adorned with intricate moldings covered the room. The walls were covered in tapestries I guessed were probably worth more than my mom’s house. Nothing had changed since the first time I had stepped through those doors, nothing except me.

Our footsteps echoed through the space, increasing my anxiety a little at a time with every footstep we made. I wanted to be brave, I wanted to be strong. And with Murphy’s hand in mine, I siphoned his strength as much as I could.

Jean lead us into the study, the same room I remembered meeting Simon Giroux before. He whispered to the guard by the door, who left almost immediately. Then he walked to the other door, the one that led into Simon’s office.

He was gone only for a minute before he returned, this time with an older man, with salt and pepper hair, and a long scar from his temple to his jaw on his right side.

“Simon.” I broke the silence first, because I just couldn’t take it anymore. His men didn’t talk to each other, Jean wasn’t a huge talker, and I was about to go insane.

“Addison Hardy. How are you, love?” He sat down on the nearby armchair, and relit his cigar.

“I’ve been better.”

“You know I value my privacy, so I must apologize for the manner in which you were brought here. You know that Rene was very important to Jean. He took his death rather hard.” His gaze rested on Murphy beside me. “And I see you brought military to my house.”

“He’s here for me, Simon. Of all people, you must understand the need for protection.”

“I would not hurt you. Surely you know that, Addison.” Simon shrugged. “I could not deny my son the right to avenge his brother’s death, even if I disagreed with what his brother did.”

I didn’t want to look at Murphy. I didn’t want to see what he saw with me, knowing that I had this kind of rapport with an international crime boss. Knowing that I wasn’t the squeaky clean girl he thought I was left me with a deep stabbing pain in my chest and I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.

“You can’t hurt me, Simon. Not if you want your money.”

“Ah, yes, the money. That’s all well and good, but I’m not interested in the money as much as that little notebook Alex left you.”

I tried to contain my surprise as much as possible, but I wasn’t expecting that. How did he know about that book? It was just supposed to be a failsafe, something to keep us safe when Alex and I finally left.

“I’m afraid that notebook is not up for negotiation.” I managed to keep my voice from shaking, but my words were slow and deliberate.

Simon’s eyes flicked to the side, to where Murphy stood. “Everything is negotiable, Addison. Everything has a price.”

I didn’t miss the loosely veiled threat. He couldn’t touch me. We had made sure of it. I was protected. But Murphy wasn’t. I could give up the notebook, and he’d not hurt Murphy. I wasn’t under any illusion that he wouldn’t just kill Murphy if I turned over the notebook, either.

I glanced at Murphy. Simon would kill him if I didn’t turn over the book. Could I stand to lose Murphy so soon after I lost my brother? Did I have a choice?

I turned back to Simon. “Let’s talk.”

~*~*~

Murphy

I had a bad feeling. There was a strange vibe in the air, a tension I hadn’t really felt before. I stared at the two while they talked, trying to pinpoint where that feeling was originating. I wasn’t sure what to think. Addison was obviously familiar with Simon Giroux. She didn’t seem nervous or afraid at all. The tension wasn’t coming from them.

Yes, there was tension there, but not what I was feeling.

“What do you want, Simon?” Addison asked, oblivious to what I was currently sensing. She was concentrating on Simon for the moment. I didn’t want to upset her concentration right then.

“The notebook. For his life.” Simon Giroux’s smug expression was enough that I wanted to reach across the room and punch it off. Anger simmered below the surface. I kept it in check, not wanting to lose the tenuous control over the situation that I had.

I studied Jean’s face, a hard line where his mouth was. Rage smoldered just below the surface there. Addison was right. Jean was probably the scariest Giroux sibling, minus what Marie had been. And he was still out for revenge.

“Oh, come on, Simon. I’m not dumb. I’ve seen all the action flicks. I hand over the goods, and you try to kill us anyway.” The goods? Was Addison stuck in one of those action flicks? Who used “the goods”… like ever?

Simon laughed. “Movies seldom resemble real life. You will be safe. I give you my word.”

“Not good enough.” I interjected. Both of them looked at me. “There’s absolutely no reason why Addison should trust you.”

“And there is absolutely no reason why I should trust you, a boy pretending to be a man.” I ground my teeth together when he called me a boy. I knew why he did it, to push me down, and I wasn’t going to lower myself to that level. But it still steamed under the collar. And he knew it, smiling as he gestured for his son to approach.