Page 8 of Mine to Keep (Bloody Desires #10)

four

the finer things in life

Joyner thinks he’s untouchable, so he doesn’t have guards or any security at his home.

The cameras he has mounted everywhere route to a company that’s based about twenty miles away, and by the time they call for the local authorities to help Joyner, it’ll already be too late.

The joker he hired for his wine tasting was just for the event.

All I have to do is jam the cameras, then jimmy the locks at his back door, and I’m in. He doesn’t even have an alarm here, so sure that no one can touch him.

On light feet, I take the stairs two at a time.

Joyner’s bedroom door is opened a crack, so I slide through, the door opening wider on silent hinges.

His blackout curtains make it nearly impossible to see any of my surroundings, but I remember the layout of the bedroom from my earlier visit.

I inch towards Joyner’s bed, pulling out the syringe full of tranquilizer.

I slide into the space between his bed and nightstand, and jab the needle into Joyner’s neck. He hardly stirs as I depress the plunger. He’ll be in his drug-induced slumber for half an hour, time enough for me to get him ready.

After I click on the light, I pull the lengths of rope from inside the bag I brought with me, and tie his wrists and ankles to the four posters. I check to make sure they’re tight enough to cut off circulation, ensuring he can’t escape.

Once I’m happy with the job, I roam around the lower floor of the mansion, looking for the bottle of three thousand dollar wine. This will probably be the only opportunity I get to taste it, since I would never spend that much money on wine.

I return to the bedroom, wine and glass in hand. I shut the light off and pull the curtains open, the moonlight streaming through the room, giving it an eerie glow.

I pop the bottle and pour some into the glass. It smells good, citrus and blackberries and…I take another whiff…mango. Not scents I think would complement each other, but they come together in a cohesive blend.

Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a small sip, and an involuntary groan leaves my lips. “Well, shit. This is good as fuck,” I whisper as I peer down at the glass of wine, taking a more hearty mouthful.

Just as I’m enjoying my second sip, Joyner stirs on the bed. Slowly at first, then with more urgency when he takes in his predicament. He pulls and tugs and thrashes on the bed, his wide eyes looking back and forth between his bound wrists.

After a few seconds, he notices me, his eyes bugging out. “Wha…who are you? What are you doing here?”

I hold the glass up to him in a toasting gesture. “I didn’t know this wine would taste this good. I mean, three stacks is steep. But, fuck, I think it’s worth it. Not that I would buy it myself, but it’s delicious. Did you come up with the recipe yourself or steal it from someone else?”

“The fuck? Let me out of these ropes!”

I swirl the wine in the glass, looking at the mini whirlpool it makes.

“No, I don’t think I will. You’ve been a bad boy, Joyner.

Real bad. You know how many people you’ve left with no income?

How you left your wife and kids with bills and death threats for something you did? I think you deserve those ropes.”

He makes an irritated sound. “That’s what this is about? The poor people?” He says the word as if it disgusts him. “They should have had a backup plan, a better job just in case?—”

“Just in case some entitled billionaire asshole decided to rob them blind? Don’t piss me off.”

He sits up as much as he can, craning his neck to glare at me. “Fuck you. You don’t know how hard it is to?—”

I pull the Desert Eagle from my bag and sit it on my lap, cutting off his words as he swallows roughly. Tilting my head, I ask, “Are those your last words? A lie? You should meet your maker with the truth on your tongue, don’t you think?”

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his eyes darting between my gaze and the big ass gun resting on my thighs.

I take another sip of the wine, humming in appreciation.

It really is good. I think I’ll take this bottle with me—I planned to just take the glass since it has my DNA on it.

Maybe finishing the bottle will help me sleep.

Sitting up, I sip the wine once more. After I swallow, I ask, “Why leave with all those people’s money? You could have just left. You already had more money than you could spend.”

“What do you care?” he sneers.

I shrug, finishing off the last of the wine. “I don’t. I’m curious.”

Joyner scoffs, lying back against the bed. “I’m used to the finer things in life. You think I could have lived this well without money? I needed it more than those people did.”

Tsking at him, I say, “Be so fucking for real right now. You’re greedy.

Instead of leaving with the inheritance from your richy rich grandfather, you stole from other people.

” He looks at me in surprise. “Yeah, I did my homework. Eight hundred million dollars was more than enough to live this well many times over. Stealing was just greed and you know it. Admit it. Unburden your sins before you’re sent to the upper room.

Or the lower. I don’t think Jesus or his Pops will let you in because of all the people you left homeless. ”

Regret fills his eyes. “You plan to use that on me?” Joyner asks, sounding contrite for the first time as he inclines his head towards the gun.

“I am. I was told to make it hurt. You deserve some pain.”

His throat bobs as he gears up to plead with me. I hold my hand up, cutting off the begging before it even begins. “No need for that. Your fate is sealed. Begging will only irritate me.”

Joyner ignores me. “Please. I can make you a rich man. I have…money. Money here. Let me go and I’ll get it from my safe.”

Mention of a safe has my mind going back to Adelane. The fuck-up in Arizona. I don’t want to be paid off again. I want to get the job done and leave.

Shaking off the ill feelings, I place the wine glass on the floor and stand, palming the gun. “No. I’ve already been paid. All that’s left is you dying.”

Before he can beg more, I raise the gun and shoot him three times, twice in the chest and once in the face.

The sound is deafening, but it brings a smile to my face.

My ears ring as smoke drifts up from the barrel of the gun.

Half of Joyner’s head is sheared off, but it’s obvious who he is.

I pull out my phone and take several pictures for confirmation, sending them to Peggy for her to forward to The Void.

Peggy sends me a thumbs-up emoji, and I chuckle. Only she would see a dead body and respond that way.

Even though I have latex skin on my hands, I still wipe the gun down before I place it on his chest. I don’t need it anymore, though I wish I could keep it. The serial number is scrubbed, making it untraceable, so I’m not worried about it leading back to me or The Void.

Retracing my steps, I wipe down everything I touched. I have on a skull cap, so none of my hair—real or not—would have fallen to the floor.

I pack the glass and bottle of wine into my bag, then close the curtains. Joyner will be found in about twelve hours, since he’s supposed to have another of his pretentious parties in the morning.

After making sure I’ve cleaned and taken everything I brought with me, I head back to my car and start the drive back to the safe house. Adrenaline from the kill has me wired, my sleepiness a thing of the past. Maybe after facing this bottle of wine, I’ll pass out for the night.

As soon as I get back, I strip out of my clothes and take a shower, cleaning the kill off me. I watch as the makeup from my face tracks down the drain, and I scrub off the temporary tattoos, the small black pieces floating down right behind.

Once I’m done, I dress in boxers and pull the wine from my bag, drinking it straight from the bottle. It takes no time to chug the entire thing and I lie in bed, feeling the effects.

The wine makes me drowsy and pushes me into much needed sleep, but it also keeps me under, when all I want is to wake up from the nightmares.

The terrible dreams claw at me, not letting me go, forcing me to face them.

“ Why is it not important?” Judge Bowers asks me, standing over me with a Desert Eagle in his hand. He aims at my forehead, the barrel pressed tight to my flesh. “Why is it not important who you are? I need to know. And you’ll tell me.”

Judge Bowers’ face has no trace of the busted lips, broken nose, and swollen eyes. He’s big and imposing, towering over me like a man responsible for my fate. And he is, with that gun in his hand. His hard look, devoid of mercy says he is.

My pride won’t allow me to give him what he wants. “No,” I respond through swollen lips. Blood drips from my nose, staining the back of my hand as I try to clean myself up.

“Then you’re useless to me.”

The sound of gunfire makes me flinch, but the shot doesn’t kill me.

Instead of the bullet hitting me, it hits someone else.

And she lets out a ragged scream. It’s a sound I’m all too familiar with.

A sound I try to stop before it reaches my ears, but it’s useless.

She’s free. Now she’s free, but at what cost? What was the cost to me?

My ringing phone wakes me before I can sink deeper into my personal hell. My heart races, the visions of my dream still swimming in my head.

I grab my phone and note the time before I focus on the caller ID. I got an hour of sleep before the ringing phone rips me from my nightmares.

‘Unknown’ shows on my screen, which means it can only be one person.

Or one company .

“Viper,” I say into the receiver, giving him my call sign.

“There’s a job in Delham, small town outside of Toronto,” The Director says. “Urgent. You’re the only one with the skill set we need. Need you back in North America by end of day tomorrow.”

“No.”

I’m fucking exhausted, and normally they don’t call me for a job so soon after executing one. And that nightmare has shaken me up more than I’d like to admit. It’s been so long since I thought about my first job in Arizona, so many years ago. I need sleep so I can regroup.

“Not up for debate, Viper. There’s a room booked for you in Delham. Your handler will get you everything you need. You will receive extra pay for short notice.”

I flop back on the bed, eyes burning from lack of sleep and being tipsy. “No.”

“Do you want to be retired, Viper?” I’m quiet, knowing that he can dispatch me for refusing a job.

This is why retirement is on my mind. This is my first time being threatened directly by The Void, but it won’t be the last. I need to start planning my exit strategy now, so if another threat flies from his bitch-ass lips, I can get out and they’d never find me.

I’m a master at hiding and disguising myself.

I have no family and only one living friend that would never give up my location.

The threat to my life sets the precedence that they can do it again.

And again.

And again.

Until they have me more under their thumb than they already do. I’ve been stacking my cash to make a clean break so I won’t have a reason to emerge once I go into seclusion.

One more job and I’m fucking done.

Growling, I say, “Fine. Send the info?—”

“Your handler has everything you need.” Then the line is disconnected.

Another grunt of frustration leaves my lips before I sit up and run my hand down my face. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night. Eventually, it’ll catch up to me. I just hope it’s not at a time when my exhaustion means the difference between life and death.