Bad Deeds (Dirty Money #3)

“Any idea what the hell that is?” I ask.

“What the hell is right,” Derek says as the crate begins to rock back and forth.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





SHANE



The crate continues to rock back and forth, and in all of thirty seconds there are a half dozen uniformed officers pointing guns at it but staying the hell away from it. My immediate thought is every possibility that box holds: a bomb, a person, an attack of some sort. My next is of Emily and my parents, and I reach for my phone, punching in Emily’s auto-dial.

“Shane,” she says, answering on the first ring, the sound of her voice delivering instant relief. “Where are you?”

“Derek and I are together at the front of the building,” I say, the sound of my father’s deep, gravelly coughs in the background telling me she’s still with my parents. “Where are you?”

“We got caught in the smoke, and it’s not treating your father well. Cody and two of his men are escorting us to our apartment so he can safely rest.”

“Good,” I approve, damn happy Cody was smart enough to get the hell away from here. “Text me when you get there.” Derek points to the crate, and I watch as it splinters down the front. “I need to go, sweetheart.”

“Wait, Shane.”

“Stay with Cody,” I say, ending the call as another splinter bulges the wood of the crate. Another blink and it bursts open, a naked man falling out of the wooden encasement and onto his side, his hands and feet bound. “Holy mother of Jesus,” Derek murmurs.

Holy mother of Jesus is right, I think as cameras begin to flash, news crews pushing toward the scene while officials push them back, forming a perimeter. The naked man curls forward, hiding his face and as much of his body as he can from the many prying eyes I suspect he didn’t know were waiting on him. Nick suddenly appears in my line of sight, an officer with him, the two of them approaching the circle of armed men around the crate and the naked man.

“I assume we’ve just found your missing security person?” Derek asks, and while I can feel his eyes on me, mine are on the man, anger burning in my belly at his demoralizing circumstances. Because of me. Because of Derek. Because of my fucking father. But Ted’s alive. The way I told Adrian I expected to have him returned, but he’s also paying for me forcing Adrian’s hand.

“Shane—” Derek presses.

“Yes,” I say, watching Nick rush through the line of officers to kneel next to the humiliated man. “That’s him.” Seconds tick by, and Nick motions to the officers, pulling out a knife to cut Ted’s hands free, while EMS workers hurry forward and a blanket is pulled over Ted, but he doesn’t move, which seems to indicate he’s injured.

“He’s telling you to heel,” he says. “Or he’ll make you pay the price.”

All he did was piss me off, I think, and when I’m pissed, I win and I win big. “I’m not going to heel,” I reply, glancing over at him. “And the brother I used to know wouldn’t either.”

“Who said I was going to heel?”

“Haven’t you already?”

His expression tightens. “No. I have not and I never will.”

The glass door just to the left of me opens and Seth appears, his gaze sliding between myself and Derek. “I need to get you out of sight before the police and the press corner one or both of you,” he says, clearly in the role of head of security for the company. Before he’s even finished the statement, Derek and I are walking with him, our strides long and quick.

“How’s Ted?” I ask.

“Missing a finger, from what Nick just told me,” he replies, cutting me a look, this news delivered with barely contained anger when Seth is never barely contained about anything.

“Damn it,” I curse softly, my own anger momentarily blotted out with guilt and a sense of responsibility. This one is on me. I hired this man. I engaged with Martina and this was the outcome, a decision I’ll analyze later, in private. “His finger was cut off and he still forced himself out of that box,” I say, anger returning, along with a personal, silent promise to deliver the man the justice he deserves.

We round the corner to the elevator banks. “He’s an ex-SEAL,” Seth says, stopping at the garage-level car and hitting the call button. “He’s trained to push through the pain. The only positive, if there is one, outside of him being alive, is that he seems unaware of being publicly exposed.” He changes the subject. “I need to wrap up a few things here, but Cody will be waiting on you in the garage of your apartment where your family’s now located.” He hands me a set of keys. “White Ford F-150 parked next to the Bentley.”

“I’m gathering the plan, then,” Derek says, breaking his short silence, “is to get us all in one obvious location and hope that seems too stupid for anyone to consider. Well, except for the fact that Adrian owns the staff there, and if he wants the press or the police to find us, they will.”

The elevator opens and Seth holds the door with his foot and hand. “What do you know of the staff there?”

“Enough to know that unless you fired them all, you still have a problem.” Derek walks into the elevator and faces forward. “But on the bright side: we’ll all be together to get our stories straight before we get questioned, and daring to brainstorm right underneath Adrian’s nose feels like a mighty nice ‘fuck you’ to him.”

Seth’s gaze shifts to me. “He could own everyone in every place you favor,” he says. “What matters is how prepared we are. And we are.”

Considering recent events, if this were anyone but Seth, I’d question him, but if he says we’re prepared, I accept that answer, given the urgency of the situation. I give him a nod and step into the car next to Derek, while Seth steps between the doors and looks at him. “You know way more about Adrian Martina than you should.”

“I’d have agreed with that statement two days ago,” Derek surprises me by saying. “But right now, you need to know everything about him you can. For instance, Adrian revels in breaking those who think they can’t be broken.”

I digest this with discomfort, and not just for Ted, but in how easily that description could be used to describe me in pursuit of winning a courtroom brawl.

“And,” Derek adds, “I guarantee you that Ted shoved his way out of that crate because he was led to believe staying in it had consequences.”

Seth stares at Derek, his eyes hard, then harder, before he looks at me. “Cody will be waiting.” He lets the door shut and leaves Derek and me alone once again. Side by side, and in an elevator. Enemies. Brothers. Allies if we are going to survive the mess our family has found, even if we must be uncomfortable allies. The ride is a short one floor, and we exit to the garage, where I unclick the locks of the truck, momentarily remembering the good times on our ranch my parents still own.

“You ever get to the ranch?” I ask.