Den of Mercenaries: Volume One (The Mercenaries Book 1) Page 16

  Four hours, twenty-six minutes, and ten seconds had passed since Niklaus had parked outside the warehouse, waiting for Liam and his men to exit. In that time, he’d sent a text to Winter, asking her for the blueprints to the warehouse, and anything she had so far. Though it had yet to be a full day, he didn’t doubt that she already had plenty.

  “Apparently,” she’d said when they’d connected, “Donovan—that’s the father by the way—wasn’t behind their sudden move to the States. He still, for the most part, does business out of Dublin. It was the sons’ idea to expand. From what I have, Rourke is the brawn, and the other, Liam, is the brain. Though he’s the youngest, nothing gets done without his approval.”

  And Reagan was mixed up with him.

  He wondered whether she knew what he did, or at the very least, who his family was. Back at the pub, she had jumped in front of him like she was trying to protect him from Liam, so even if she didn’t know everything … he bet she knew something. He would have to find that out later, though.

  Sadly—because it would have made his life a hell of a lot easier—Winter hadn’t been able to find much on the shipment. Actually, it was hard to find anything on McCarthy business. The only thing she had been able to find was a tracking number, and that was a dead end since the shipment was marked as “lost.”

  And last, she’d learned Donovan was coming stateside very soon—that at least coincided with what The Kingmaker had said about the deal going down in little more than two weeks.

  But that still didn’t answer the question as to where the shipment was presently.

  “Dig deeper,” Niklaus said as the doors to the warehouse swung open, Liam and a few others walking out. “I’ll call you back.”

  They both hung up without a goodbye.

  Shifting down in his seat, he ducked out of sight as the SUVs passed. He waited a heartbeat, two, then sat up, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure they were out of sight before opening the car door and climbing out, going to the trunk.

  On the job, the most important thing to remember was to come prepared. Sure, he was good with his fists, probably a hell of a lot better than anyone who might await him inside the warehouse, but his hands could only do so much, especially if they were armed.

  First came his vest, the Kevlar carefully strapped into place. Then his thigh holsters—as well as another set at his waist. His beanie followed, and finally, the black mask.

  It was a bit unnecessary for others, the mask. Not one of his associates felt the need to conceal their identities, but for Niklaus, it was a necessity.

  Armed for bear, Niklaus made his way to the warehouse, picking the lock for one of the side doors. He could hear voices not too far from his place, mostly male though he thought he did hear the soft laughter of a female.

  Slipping around the corner, he headed in the direction of the office. Having studied the blueprints and going over the schematics in his head, he could guess where the office would be, and it might have been because of his years on the job, or the fact that most people were predictable, that it was easy for him to reach it.

  In most cases, the main office was situated towards the back, definitely away from the entrance, but close to a rear exit for a quick getaway. If this was more than a dumping ground, the office would definitely be back there.

  Then again … it could also be because of the way buildings were designed.

  Carefully, he made his way across the floor of the warehouse, glancing back every few steps, listening for any change in the space around him.

  He slipped into the office easily, closing the door shut, then hunting through the folders, looking for anything of value. It wasn’t until he noticed a spare piece, one that was partially tucked beneath the phone sitting on the desk that he finally found something of value.

  To anyone else, it could have meant nothing, but considering Niklaus had an idea as to the deal’s date, he could make sense of the numbers written. What followed was an address.

  Snapping a picture, he placed it back as he’d found it, going through what was left of the filing cabinet next. There wasn’t much else that he could find on the shipment, but there was plenty of other information on what exactly they were doing to make money in Hell’s Kitchen.

  In a corner of the room was a safe, one that was relatively easy to crack into, and when he did, Niklaus found the McCarthys’ ledger, along with numerous bundles of cash. Even if the names were written in code, it was pretty easy to see that the McCarthys were demanding money from the local businesses.

  Was that how Reagan knew them?

  Taking pictures of the entries, Niklaus replaced that as well and left back out of the office, then out of the warehouse entirely.

  Chapter 21

  Two days had passed since Reagan had seen Niklaus last, but while she had been disappointed by this fact—for reasons she wasn’t ready to consider—she was more worried that Jimmy had yet to return her call, lending credence to Liam’s thinly veiled threat. They usually talked at least once a day if she didn’t see him, if only for a few minutes, but because he had gone more than twenty-four hours without contacting her, she was getting worried.

  Climbing out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel, holding it in place with one hand as she left the bathroom, her phone in the other as she sent another text to her brother, hoping this one might prompt him to respond.

  When she still didn’t receive a response, she tossed the device on her bed and got dressed. Grabbing her mailbox key, she walked barefoot out of her apartment, heading downstairs to the row of mailboxes along the wall. She had it opened in a matter of seconds, pulling out the newspaper and the assortment of bills inside. It was only when she was closing it back that someone cleared their throat behind her.

  Thinking that she might have been in the way of someone trying to get by, an apology was on the tip of her tongue at least until she saw who stood at her back.

  “Are you kidding? You’re stalking me now?”

  Niklaus, who didn’t look perturbed in the slightest at her words, smiled. “Is that how you want to look at it?”

  Was he serious? And did he really need to look so damned amused? “How do you even know where I live?”

  He didn’t bother answering her question, instead asking one of his own. “That guy you were talking to yesterday, who is he?”

  Reagan didn’t pretend to misunderstand who he was referring to—there had only been one male she had talked to with Niklaus around. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Is that what we’re going to do here—answer questions with questions?”

  “Are we?” When his smirk only grew—and she realized she had done exactly what he had said—she finally said, “His name is Liam.”

  He shook his head, waving those words away. “I know that—you said it. I’m asking who he is to you.”

  The bane of her fucking existence?

  Loan shark?

  There were so many different ways she could answer that question, and yet she still didn’t know what to say. “Nothing,” she settled on saying. “He’s nothing to me.”

  “But you’re something to him…” He guessed, reading between the lines. “Is he a problem?”

  Reagan didn’t like the way he asked that, like he was considering doing something about it if Liam was, in fact, a problem for her. “It’s nothing you should worry about.”

  “You—”

  “Why are you here, Niklaus? And more importantly, how do you know where I live?”

  He studied her for a moment, as though he wasn’t ready to move on from Liam, but ultimately relented. “You shouldn’t walk home alone, especially late at night.”

  “So you followed me to make sure I got home safe?” she asked, wishing that information didn’t make her feel warm inside. It was supposed to be creepy, odd even, that he trailed her without saying a word—but she couldn’t bring herself to think that about him. “I was fine—I’ve been doing this for a while now, Niklau
s.”

  Niklaus leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest, but he didn’t look relaxed when he did. When he glanced behind him at the street that was packed with cars, a shadow seemed to cross his face. “Shit happens. Even to good people.”

  Reagan was tempted, very tempted to ask him more about that, to learn of the memory that had suddenly clouded his eyes, but she remembered all too well how he was able to duck questions, and she was in no mood to play that game with him.

  “I have things to do today,” she said after a moment, “so if we’re done here …”

  Apparently, he wasn’t.

  “What are you doing after work?”

  Her gaze shot to his, that soft almost boyish smile of his making her scowl—whatever dark place he had nearly slipped into was forgotten. This wasn’t the first time he had asked her that question, but at least this time her answer would be what she should have said years ago.

  “Going home alone. And before you ask, you can’t come with me.”

  Her answer didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. “Right then, so you won’t decline a ride?”

  “Sorry?”

  Stepping closer, he gestured around them. “Did you miss everything I just said? You don’t need to walk home alone, and since you’re coming back here, I’m offering to drive you.”

  Her gaze flickered to the street, honing in on the matte black machine that was parked at the curb—she didn’t have to ask to know that it was his.

  Looking back to him, she asked, “And if I say no?”

  He laughed, seriously laughed, as though that was the funniest thing she had ever said. “You want to tell me what time you’ll be done, or should I just show up?”

  Definitely not. “I should be done by two.”

  He nodded, but as she waited for him to turn and leave, he came towards her instead. “If he’s an issue for you, tell me. I’ll handle it.”

  If only it were that easy, but Reagan wouldn’t pretend like it could be. Whether or not she was still angry with Niklaus for his disappearing act years ago, she didn’t want him hurt if he thought to go up against Liam for her.

  She already had Jimmy to worry about.

  She didn’t want to add Niklaus to that list.

  “You’re obviously serious about annoying the hell out of me,” Reagan said as she exited the pub, spotting Niklaus sitting on the hood of his car—and fucking hell, did he have to look so good doing it?

  She turned away from him, reaching to pull the metal gate down, but Niklaus was there in an instant, doing it for her.

  “This can’t be easy to do by yourself,” he commented as she stuck the key in and locked it.

  “Like I said”—she stood, brushing strands of hair out of her face—“I’m—”

  “Capable of taking care of yourself—yeah, I got that, babe. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need help.”

  Of course her mind had to seize on the fact that he called her “babe.” It wasn’t that he’d even said it in a particularly romantic way, rather casually actually, but she still liked the sound of it anyway. Liam called her a number of pet names, but when he did, they mostly made her skin crawl.

  “My brother is normally around,” she found herself saying, “but he’s busy at the moment.”

  Jimmy had finally sent her a text when she was working behind the bar, but it hadn’t said much of anything, only that he would call her later and not to worry. That only managed to make her worry more, though she was happy to at least have heard from him at all.

  “You have a brother?” he asked casually.

  “Jimmy,” she said in return, “he’s one of my four brothers, actually.”

  “You don’t talk to the others often.” Again, not a question. Whether he was good at reading people, or just her, he was definitely grasping things she hadn’t realized she was giving away.

  “Not really.”

  “Why not?”

  When she looked at him after he asked the question, he merely returned the stare, waiting for her to answer. He wasn’t apologetic about wanting to know more about her it seemed.

  Maybe … just maybe.

  “I’ll just say that my brothers and I don’t see eye to eye on certain things.”

  Most of which came down to the choice they had made between family … and well, another sort of family.

  “Mine would say the same thing about me, but”—Niklaus shrugged, heading back to his car—“who gives a shit?” Pulling the handle of the passenger door, he opened it, gesturing for her to get in with a tilt of his head. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “I don’t think so.” They were perfectly fine talking as they were—she didn’t have to be in a confined space with the man.

  “Are you going to fight me on everything?”

  This time, it was she who was shrugging with a slight smile. “More than likely.”

  “Get in.”

  Reagan shook her head, even as she took in the black leather of its interior. “I can’t.”

  “No? And that wouldn’t be because of Liam, right?”

  Shit. How was she supposed to answer that? She couldn’t say it was, not when she had told him earlier that Liam wasn’t a problem.

  “It’s complicated,” she settled on saying.

  “Then let me un-complicate it.”

  “There are some things that aren’t an easy fix, Niklaus. It’s not that simple. And why are you making a big deal out of this anyway? We slept together a few times, that doesn’t mean you can just walk in here and expect my life to be amenable to yours.”

  “Then let’s clear the air and make amends so we can move on.”

  “Move on?”

  “I told you once that I came back here for you—you chose not to believe that.” Again, he gestured to his car. “You either get in, or I’ll put you in.”

  “Fine.” It didn’t sound like she had much of a choice anyway. “If I go with you, will you stop showing up at my place?”

  He smirked. “Not even if you begged me.”

  Annoyed all over again, Reagan threw her hands up, even as she crossed the short distance to his car. “Niklaus—”

  His words stopped her on the spot.

  “I grew to hate that name—Niklaus—stopped going by it a long time ago. Klaus if I know you and if I don’t. You’re one of two people that call me by that name, and only from you do I enjoy hearing it. When you say it, whether you’re pissed at me like now, or when you’re begging me to let you come, it reminds me of a time when I was less of an asshole.”

  Reagan said his name, though she hadn’t meant to, just a whisper in the wind, but he caught it, that dark, amused smile of his curling his lips up as he gave her a slight push to get in.

  “Just like that. Can’t say I didn’t miss the sound of your voice, especially when you’re turned on.”

  She swallowed nervously, feeling the heat rise in her face. “I’m not.”

  His smile slipped a little, but not in disappointment, it had an almost lazy quality to it, but she was stuck watching his eyes drift over her face, down the curve of her neck, until he reached the V in her shirt, and the cleavage it displayed. Reaching for her with his free hand, he traced a single finger down her stomach, pausing when he reached the hem of her shirt.

  He didn’t go any further, just let his touch linger over that expanse of skin left uncovered, goosebumps erupting in his wake. “Let me make a liar out of you.”

  Temptation, that was what Niklaus was—her ultimate temptation.

  Ignoring his remark, she asked, “Are you driving or what?”

  “You sure that’s all you want?” Niklaus asked, his tone quite clear as to what he was suggesting.

  No. No, she wasn’t sure of that at all. “Yeah.”

  This time, she finally did climb inside his car, inhaling the warm scent that made up the interior. There was the leather, the faint aroma of tobacco, and finally the scent of Niklaus himself. Now, it felt like he was surrounding h
er.

  As she moved to pull on her seatbelt, she came up short when she realized that it wasn’t a normal seatbelt at all, but a four-point harness.

  “Seriously, you need one of these? How fast do you drive?”

  “No worries. You won’t be needing it tonight.” But he did take a moment to show her how to correctly fasten it.

  Besides the rumble of the engine as he started it up and pulled out, silence stretched between them, the lights illuminating the dash chasing the darkness away. And for a time, she was content in his presence, but as the distance to her apartment got shorter—which it wasn’t very far in the first place—she was tempted to say something, anything, if it meant he could stay around a little while longer.

  But he seemed to read her mind, and instead of pulling over, he kept on down the street, then asked, “When did you quit the diner?”

  “Six months after.” After you left the last time … but she didn’t bother to voice that thought. “I didn’t quit until after I had the pub open and running. You helped a lot with that. Th—”

  “Don’t thank me,” he cut her off.

  “Why not?”

  Most people said that and meant not to thank them because they were being modest, but he said it as though he genuinely didn’t deserve her thanks.

  But he didn’t seem like he was actually going to answer.

  “And I guess you’re not here to get that money back?”

  The look he sent was answer enough.

  “So what do you do?” She had asked that once before, but wondered if something had changed for him, and maybe he was back in the city because of a new job.

  He was quiet for a spell, and she wondered whether he was already done planning to answer her question until his mouth opened.

  “Independent contractor.”

  So he had changed jobs. “What happened to your sanitation gig?”

  “It’s the same job as before, just new management.”

  If that wasn’t vague enough. “And what do you do as an independent contractor?”

  “A little of everything. Right now, I’m helping the boss find a missing shipment.”

  “Like an investigator?”