Read Saving Poughkeepsie Page 9


  “We’re insane.” Blake held her hand as they looked at the ceiling. “And that was really funny.”

  “Are we saving the bags because you’re sentimental?” She peeked at him, and he could feel her attention.

  “I thought it would be a sweet way to pack her lunch for school, wiseass. My kindergarten game is strong.”

  She looked at him, gray eyes sparkling. “Oh, sure, now you curse.”

  “I’m not fucking animal, Livia. I’d never make the baby curse.” He did his best to look disapproving. She jumped on him and began tickling.

  He grabbed her hands and bit his lip before adding, “You’re in a dangerous position, Mrs. Hartt.”

  “You liked Disney that much, huh?” She squeezed him with her legs.

  He pulled her hands to his lips, kissing them both before responding, “I cannot wait to go back. I fucking loved it. Though it is amazing to be home. I love this house. I can picture you falling in love with me here—making the truckload of breakfast sandwiches for the whole platform, all that.”

  She smacked his arm lightly. “Now you’re just showing off.”

  He sat up and kissed her lips until she moaned.

  She murmured against his lips, “I love it, too. I hope we never have to leave.”

  By the day after his meeting with Rodolfo, Beckett was looking at a map on his wall where he’d outlined Poughkeepsie in black. He was going all tactical army shit this time. He’d pulled up listings of all the properties for sale in town on his computer, and the iPad had a list of all the abandoned crap in disrepair. Once Sevan’s sorry ass got to town, he could point out any additional locations he’d been using to traffic his merchandise. He had two already manned by douchebags. In the meantime, Beckett had put a pin on each of his brothers’ houses so he could cross-reference the vacant and dilapidated properties with their locations.

  Eve was so quiet he didn’t know she was in the room until she spoke. “You’ve been busy.”

  He stopped what he was doing and looked her up and down. “You look good. How’d the nap go?”

  “Ugh. Demeaning. I’m sick of this. But the nap felt good.” She sat on the couch next to G. He snorted himself awake before rolling onto his back for some belly rubs.

  “Oh sure, all he has to do to get you to touch him is roll on his back.” Beckett put down the paper he was holding and came to sit next to her.

  “He’s so damn cute, he doesn’t even have to ask.” She smiled at the drooling fur ball.

  “I know.” Beckett put his arm around her shoulders, reaching down and squeezing her breast.

  She gave him a look. “Seriously? That’s, like, such a teenage maneuver.”

  “I’m not afraid to go basic to get results.” He kissed her lips. She bit his.

  She pointed at the wall after pulling away. “What, are you on the zoning committee or something?”

  “That’s my master fucking plan.” He looked at it and started thinking again.

  “Um, care to tune a chick in?” She grabbed a handful of him to get his attention.

  It worked.

  “I want you feeling better before I get you involved.” He gently touched her stomach, laying his hand on the scars he knew were there.

  “That’s not getting you laid any time soon.” He could tell in an instant she was pissed.

  He sighed. “Are you going to bust my balls until you’re in on this?” He gestured to the wall.

  “Affirmative.”

  He watched as her eyes darted from the iPad to the wall and back again.

  “You’re surrounding your family, which would make sense if you were preparing for war,” she said. “Is that what’s going on?”

  “They took you. They would’ve fucking killed you if you weren’t such a goddamn terminator.” He grabbed her hair hard with one hand and touched her neck with the other.

  “You see? That’s what’s wrong. Why didn’t they kill me? They sedated me. That’s tickling on the edge of my brain. I’ve been parading out there every day on those walks with Morales. And they’re not fast walks, you know? A shooter should have picked me off by now.” She put her hands on his chest and tapped out a restless rhythm.

  “You trying to die out there, killer?” He looked down his nose at her. Fear crowded into his lungs with the air he inhaled.

  “Was Rodolfo trying to make a move? ’Cause walking away doesn’t seem his style. I’ve been looking into him—Mouse’s files and all. No one got away. Snitches died in prison quick. Like real quick. On the way to lock-up quick—not in lock-up. So my question is, why did he want me—unless he just got bored with our truce. And why did he want me alive?” Her gaze slid back to the wall.

  “My meeting was with him yesterday.” He waited for her outburst. She was quiet for so long it unnerved him. “Say something.”

  “You went alone. Without me.” Eve looked away, toward the window.

  “You’re who he wanted. I wasn’t bringing him a special delivery of his dearest wish.”

  “Did you go alone? Tell me you at least brought a few douchebags.”

  Beckett shook his head. “No.”

  “Why not?” She pushed away from him, stood, and made her way to an armchair. She lowered herself into it slowly.

  “I’m trying to do things differently, remember? Even now. Even after something as ridiculous as trying to snatch you up. I needed to get a look into the snake nest. I wanted to see what the fuck is up before I set my balls on fire and bust in there. That’s what you and I talked about, right?” He rested his head in his hands.

  “Snakes live in holes.” She lifted her eyebrow.

  “Fuck you. Maybe their holes lead to a nest. No one knows.” He smiled at her.

  “Scientists know.” She returned his smile.

  “You want to be a scientist and follow my snake?”

  “How’d I know that was coming?”

  “My snake would love to come.”

  “Tell me your damn plan. I’m actually quite impressed you didn’t light Rodolfo’s world up. But I’m pissed you went alone. Don’t pull that shit again. You tell me what you’re doing, and I’ll tell you what I’m doing.” She rested her hands on her knees.

  In the past she would have crossed her legs and inhabited the hell out of that chair with her sexiness. Today she was a wounded tigress. Beckett’s rage caught his tongue for a second. He forced it down.

  “That’s fair.” He looked at his feet for a moment. It was a commitment between them, and he liked it. “I wanted to blow him to hell. I was halfway there, baby. But then I stopped. They haven’t tried to kill you, like you said. Which tells me someone, somewhere is thinking. And I want to know what they’re thinking about before I turn New Jersey into Chernobyl. Maybe there’s another way to make this problem disappear.”

  He waved at the map. “This thing is about my brothers. They might want to stay in Poughkeepsie. I’ve bought five houses in Hawaii just in case they want to go, but if they want to stay, I need to make that possible. I got them involved in this shitty life I picked out for myself. And because they love my crazy ass, they’ve had choices made for them and their freaking families.”

  He pushed off the couch and crossed the room to sit on the arm of Eve’s chair. “So I’m surrounding them,” he explained. “Buying up shit and dropping douchebags in those places to keep things safe. I’m also trying to pluck assholes from Rodolfo and turn them—Trojan horse bullshit. He was too easy during our meeting. Almost apologized.” He raised his eyebrows when her face registered surprise. “Right? It doesn’t match up. I want him out of our lives. And hopefully, along the way I’ll be able to offer some choices to a few people who have been getting it up the ass—bound to loan sharks, just outta prison, that kind of thing. So that’s my plan.” He met her skeptical gaze. “And you think it’s stupid.”

  “I didn’t say that, snake nest.” She winked at him, and he felt hugely relieved that she was no longer angry about his lone-wolf routine. “Just
let me sit here and marinate in this for a bit.”

  She tucked one foot under her and settled in, looking at his map.

  He nodded and began again, trying to work the numbers and match the possibilities. If he used his little store in Maryland as a test case and converted that approach to the big time here in Poughkeepsie, maybe it could work. Maybe.

  7

  Killer Mode

  Eve lazed in the living room, hardly aware of what day it was. It was the weekend now, but what did that matter if she couldn’t do much of anything during the week? She knew her recovery would be a slow process—she understood that mentally anyway. But her body felt numb half the time, and the pain meds made her groggy. She hated the whole lot of it, but she was glad to be alive and sitting on this damn couch. Beckett trotted down the stairs and smiled at her. Gandhi lolled his head the side and smiled back. Eve rubbed his belly some more.

  “You’re a fucking flirt, buddy. Can’t blame ya, though. How you doing, killer?”

  Feet in socks, jeans hanging low, Beckett pulled a T-shirt over his head in an easy way that he probably had no idea highlighted his sheer strength. But it did. The way he flashed his dimples at her when his head popped through the hole made her wonder if he actually did know.

  “I’ll lay on my back for you. Allllll day.” He slid over to her on his socks and held out his hand. As he pulled her to standing, he petted his dog. Then he wrapped one arm around her waist and tenderly touched her stomach, concern in his eyes.

  Turning her head, she tried to block out the memory that filled her mind. David had held her the same damn way when she’d been pregnant with Anna.

  “What?”

  Exhaling, she tried to let the scene escape. It didn’t. “Just, sometimes, I wish I could have a kid. Instead it’s like where I’m supposed to create a baby? It’s a demolition site. First the pieces of the wreckage, then the hysterectomy, and now a goddamn bullet. It’s like only weapons can be there.”

  Beckett didn’t apologize or try to sympathize. He just held her.

  She covered his hand with hers. “Your brothers having kids left and right has me sentimental.”

  He kissed her lips before raising an eyebrow.

  She shook her head. She knew he would get her anything, including a baby. “You play the cards you’re dealt. This is my hand.”

  A knock on the door sent G into a tizzy.

  She turned toward it, not expecting anyone. Ryan had already dropped by for their walk. Still Beckett didn’t let go of her. She motioned to the door.

  He shook his head in wordless conversation. He wasn’t alarmed, but wanted her to go upstairs. She nodded. He kissed her again, and she grabbed at him through his jeans. G barked more as someone rapped on the door again.

  Finally she eased from his grasp, ascended the stairs, and pulled a gun from the hall closet. She sat on the top step, the skin of her stomach straining as she took her low seat.

  She heard Shark’s voice and slipped immediately out of her female regret and into work mode. Killer mode. Beckett’s plan was in motion, and it was time to face some of her past.

  Beckett opened the door and didn’t tell G to pipe down when he saw the fear in Sevan’s eyes. “Come in, fucknuggets. Where you been?”

  They inched past the dog into the living room. Eventually G turned and ran up the stairs, probably to tell Eve about the visitors.

  Shark made sure Beckett knew what a huge pain in the ass Sevan was with his usual exasperated, exaggerated facial expressions. “And the worst part was we had to drive back because dickweed raises too many flags for air travel.”

  Beckett winked at him. “Thank you for your work. Why don’t you go upstairs and have Eve show you around?” He nodded in the direction of the stairs, and Shark scuttled off.

  Now standing alone, Sevan looked like a caged rat. Still a handsome one, but his obvious fear washed away the swagger necessary for him to be a stunner. “Well, here I am. Now what? Got a roasting spit out back for me?”

  Beckett sat in an armchair and kicked his socked feet up on the ottoman. “Ironically, I have the woman who killed Mary Ellen upstairs. But Rodolfo? He blames his daughter’s death on you.”

  Sevan sat on the couch and tried to smooth his wrinkled linen pants, which he’d paired with a loud, flower-print shirt. He’d been posing as a tourist.

  “And I’ve contacted the developers in Dubai too,” Beckett continued. “They hate you something fierce. Heard they were looking for talent to take you out.”

  Sevan held his head.

  “As of right now, you’re under my protection.” Beckett unwrapped a lollipop from the decorative bowl next to his chair and popped it into his mouth. “This is delicious. Damn, I haven’t had one of these in years. You like candy, Sevan?”

  The man ran his hands through his hair over and over. “What? No.”

  “You’re wrong,” Beckett countered.

  Sevan looked even more puzzled.

  “Your answer is, ‘Do I like candy, sir?’ If I say yes, you say…” He held his hands open.

  “Yes.”

  “And if I say ‘Hell no, you don’t like it.’ You say…”

  Sevan’s nostrils flared. “Fuck no.”

  “I think you’re confused. I sense a little bit of attitude.”

  “Really? Imagine that. I’m happy as a pig in shit down in the tropics, and you have me dragged back here to talk about what candy you like?”

  Beckett winked. “I don’t think you were all that happy, despite the fabulous weather where you were hiding out. And understand, just because I haven’t killed you doesn’t mean I won’t. A self-preserving little asshole like you needs to know you’re powerless right now. Powerless. And damn near worthless at this point. You broke, baby?”

  Sevan raised his chin a bit in challenge.

  “Thought so. Knew so. I know so much about you right now, I could rattle off your DNA code from memory.” Beckett stood. “The only reason I have you here is that I might have a job for you. And it has to be you, otherwise Shark would have drowned you before he screwed your girlfriend in your beloved tropics.”

  Sevan went to stand as well, Beckett pushed hard on his chest so he was forced to sit back down. “All you need to know right now is that I’m your boss, and I’m always right.”

  Sevan shook his head before sighing and nodding.

  “And don’t think I don’t know you’re scheming. Right now you’re planning shit. Stop it.”

  Beckett pulled out his phone and fired off a text.

  Eve sat on the bed watching Shark. He was quiet, just looking out the window in Beckett’s guest room. He was more tan than he should’ve been in December.

  She hadn’t wanted to take him to Beckett’s room. She could blame it on being tactical, not wanting a man she barely trusted to know the house’s interior layout—though he could probably figure it out. But mostly she didn’t want work colliding with personal. And that bedroom was personal now. At night she slept there in Beckett’s arms, G snoring at their feet on the bed. With the alarm set and two guns under the pillows, she felt safe, like she could be unguarded. Like she could laugh. And despite her annoying need for healing, his concern and attention just made her love him more.

  Beckett had a lot of layers. She used to hate herself for falling in love with him, but now she felt like she might be the only one qualified to do so. He was such a bull, a convincing boss. Alpha dog bullshit. But under that, and not too damn far under, he was a family guy. His love for his brothers was so touching. And now he wanted to change how crime was done, maybe even give some sad-sack people other options in the process. Damned if his plan wasn’t using evil to do good.

  It’d fail, though. He expected too much to go as planned, and no one could control that much. Not even him. But when his eyes had sparkled with hope, she’d realized she would live this delusion with him. She could make herself hard enough to keep him alive, to keep his brothers and their families safe. Eve wanted to prot
ect everything about him, even his dreams.

  She might not be so rational either. Crap, Cole and Livia had been kidnapped. She’d been shot. Maybe it was all smoke and mirrors. Christ, she was still tender right now.

  Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out.

  Th4is bitchis sipper

  She translated Becky’s horrible texting: This bitch is slippery. She responded:

  K.

  “How’s Micki?” she asked the form across the room.

  Shark started a bit at her words, but turned to face her. “She’s good. Out of that business for now.” He looked back at his phone.

  She knew he meant prostitution. Shark had never discussed why the woman in Mary Ellen’s employ was important to him, but Mouse’s files on Shark did not include a mother for his daughter, Mackenzie. The fact that she knew the girl existed was a miracle.

  “So you in for this?” Eve nodded toward the door.

  “Dealing with Harmon? No. He’s a dick bag. Worthless one at that. With Taylor? Yeah. Grudgingly. Mostly I trust him because he’s got you. You wouldn’t be two tits in this situation if it wasn’t kosher.”

  Eve nodded. “I’m here till it ends. If that’s ten minutes or fifty years, I’m not going anywhere.”

  She heard Beckett raise his voice downstairs and decided it was time to welcome Sevan personally. Nodding to Shark, she left the room and went to the office. After digging around for a while, she found the gun and a handful of tracker chips, plus alcohol wipes and a Band-Aid. Mouse had been fascinated by the technology when he was alive, and Eve had bought the whole set a few months back. Tracking people would always come in handy. Plus, these little bitches could be programmed to explode, not just poison their hosts, in an emergency. When she went back into the hall, Shark was waiting. He looked at her armload of stuff and stepped to the side.

  She came down the stairs and watched Sevan light up a bit at the sight of her. He was a player, and it was an expected response. His gaze dropped to her chest, then to her arms. Alarm registered when he saw what she was holding.