Part 4 (1/2)
The man frowned and followed my line of sight. ”What's under there?”
”The two men you killed last night. I'd prefer we did this sooner rather than later, 'cause even though it's cool down here, if we give them another couple of days, it's going to start smelling pretty ripe.”
He gave a cold laugh. ”What do you think I'm going to tell you?”
I pursed my lips. ”Let's start with an easy one. How about your name?”
”I'm not going to tell you my name, but you can call me X.”
”X? Like Mr. X?”
He shrugged, but gave a smile that wasn't fitting for the situation. ”Just X will do. And I know your name. Verity.”
”I'm known as Vee now, but I guess you just answered another of my questions.”
”Oh, and what's that?”
”That you're here because of my old life. No one else knows me as Verity now.”
”I figured you'd worked that part out for yourself.”
I was the one to shrug this time. ”I had, but it's good to have confirmation of my suspicions. I'm going to a.s.sume you're not going to tell me who sent you?”
”You a.s.sume correctly. I won't say his name, but I'm sure you can guess.”
He was right, I could.
I glanced over at the dust sheets. ”But why did you kill the men you were with? Have you double crossed someone?”
He shook his head. ”I work alone. Those men weren't with me. I saw them coming into your house while I was scoping the place out myself, and then I followed them in and shot them.”
His answer surprised me. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. I narrowed my eyes at him. ”Why would you do that?”
”Because coming in here and killing you was supposed to be my job. I didn't want them to take that away from me.”
He'd locked me with those blue eyes the whole time he'd spoken, somehow making me feel as though I was the one tied up, and he was the person interrogating me. I tried to push away the feeling. I couldn't let him intimidate me. I was the one in control here, and he had to tell me what I needed to know. I should have stuck to the facts, yet for some sick, twisted reason, I couldn't help myself. It was like tonguing a cavity in your molar-even though it hurt, you couldn't quite bring yourself to stop doing it.
”Why not let them do your job for you? Wouldn't that have saved you a lot of ha.s.sle?”
A slow smile crept across his lips, revealing a glimpse of white teeth behind. ”I'd been watching you,” he said, sending a s.h.i.+ver through me. ”Something about you drew me in. You're very beautiful, you know-the glossy black hair, the dark eyes, the tattoos. I like your att.i.tude as well, how you don't take s.h.i.+t from anyone. I wanted to get close to you, just that once, before you died. Like I said, if the other two men had killed you, I never would have had that opportunity.”
”How'd that work out for you?” I snapped, sickened by the idea of him wanting to get close to me before he killed me.
He laughed. ”Not as great as I'd been expecting, but one good thing has come out of all of this.”
”What?”
His eyes flicked down the length of my body and back up again. ”I got to spend time with you.”
”You're a sick son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h,” I said, trying to sound tough, but my words emerged strangled, my throat tight.
He laughed again, deep and throaty. ”I don't think I'm the only one who's sick. You're the one who stabbed me twice and tied me to a chair. Plus hid two bodies rather than calling in the cops. Why didn't you call the cops?”
”I don't trust them.”
”Why not?”
”I don't trust anyone.”
He appeared to hide a smile this time-one of agreement or satisfaction, rather than any kind of smugness. After all, he wasn't in a position to be smug.
I realized he'd managed to switch our positions, so he was the one asking the questions, while I was answering. This guy might have let me catch him out last night, but I needed to be wary of him. This would have been easier if he'd been three hundred pounds in weight, balding, with a flat nose, and piggy eyes, rather than the lean, intense specimen who sat before me. I always thought I was better than some simpering girl who lost her mind over a guy, but this one sidetracked me for all the wrong reasons.
I forced myself to stay on track. ”What about my sister? Were you supposed to kill her, too?”
”No. Not her. He wants her back.”
I froze. ”Why?”
”He thinks you've led her astray. Pulled her from the family.”
I had to bark back laughter. ”You have got to be kidding me. I'm the one who led her astray? That man doesn't even know the meaning of family-not a family outside of whatever criminal venture he's up to next, anyway. That's his family to him, the people who are working with him. Or at least they're family for as long as he wants them to be. Once he's got what he wants from them, he doesn't give a s.h.i.+t. And as for him caring about his real family-maybe you should ask him what happened to his wife!”
My anger had gotten the better of me. I was aware that I'd just ranted to the same man who'd already told me he wanted to see me dead. I didn't know why I thought he would give a s.h.i.+t, but just in that moment, it felt good to talk. I hadn't been able to speak to anyone properly for months, always watching what I said, whether that was with strangers or my own sister. But this stranger knew the truth of my life, so it didn't matter.
I was wanted dead by the most powerful mobster in the country. Trouble was, he was also my father.
”Hey,” he said, almost amiably, and I had the feeling he'd have put his hands up in defense had they not been strapped to his thighs. ”Don't shoot the messenger.” And then, in my astonished face, he laughed at his own joke.
I scowled. ”You're not even remotely funny.”
”I'm aware of that, but what's that saying about being in a position where you have to either laugh or cry? Considering my current situation, I'm not about to sit in front of you and start bawling like a baby.”
”We'll see about that. If you don't tell me what I need to know, I might just do things to you that will make you want to cry.”
His head tilted slightly to one side, and I noted the square jut of his jaw, and his long lean throat. ”I wasn't aware I'd been holding out on you.”
”I don't trust you.”
”You don't trust anyone. I remember.”
I had the sudden unnerving feeling that he was flirting with me. That wasn't good. I needed him to take me seriously. Did he always use the cute half smile and the come-to-bed blue eyes as a way of getting what he wanted? I didn't know anything about him, but I figured he probably did. I wasn't going to let him think he could get away with it.
Rising from the chair, I rounded it to stand in front of him.