The Arrangement Anthology (116 page)

Chapter 4

My head is screaming when I start to regain consciousness. It feels like it’s made of lead and possibly in a vice. It seems a great deal fatter than normal, or maybe it just feels that way. I try to open my eyes but they’re too heavy. I try again, but still no results. Sound begins to penetrate the fog surrounding me. I lie still and listen to two voices arguing heatedly in hushed tones.

“…then we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“If you hadn’t interfered, none of this would have happened, Ferro. This is your fault. You think I wanted to do this to her? She’s insane when she’s mad. You know that.”

“I told you to do it first thing, not to wait and talk to her. You jeopardized the whole operation, and risked Pete finding out. You’re a sorry excuse for a—”

My eyes flutter open involuntarily and Marty talks over him, “Shut it, dipshit. She’s awake and as soon as that headache passes, she’s going to bolt. Stop wasting time and start talking.” Marty is watching me with a softened expression on his face, which confuses the crap out of me. Hell, this whole scene confuses the crap out of me.

I blink and try to push up. Sean rushes to my side and puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. As his fingers clutch my shoulders, his voice softens a little. “It’s too soon. Wait or you’ll be sick.”

“You’re here.” I smile at him. He’s safe. “You’re all right.” Marty didn’t hurt him. In fact, he seems better than the last time I saw him. He was hurt, recovering from a bullet wound. Leaning over me like that should make him hurt. Sean should be groaning from pain, but he’s not.
 

Something is off. Even sedated, I can feel it. I sense it, but I still can’t figure out what’s going on. Add in what I just heard and my eyes widen. Sean Ferro, the initials.
 

My heart twists. “Marty had your handkerchief, didn’t he?”
 

The two letters come back into focus in my mind, the ramifications quickly follow, snapping into place. If the handkerchief was Sean’s, then based on what I just heard, Sean and Marty are… I shiver. “Oh, my God, Sean! You told Marty to drug me, didn’t you? I heard you say it—he was supposed to drug me. Marty tried to talk me into following him first.”

Sean’s emotional mask juts up and snaps firmly in place. He shows no remorse, no affection. It’s like he hasn’t changed at all and there’s a man I don’t know standing in front of me. “I did what I had to do. It was for your own good. If you were found with Marty—able to get away, but not trying—it would look wrong. They’d think you were helping him.”

Outraged, I yell, “Helping him do what, exactly? Shoot you? Kidnap you? Bury you in a freakin’ sand dune?” I scream the last part and wish I hadn’t. My head throbs so badly, it feels like there’s a steel bar vibrating in my brain. I grab my head and shut my eyes.
 

Clutching my temples, I growl, “Where are we?”

Sean sits by my side as Marty paces behind me. We’re in an old house and I can hear the water lapping against the shore, which means we are very close to the ocean. The house is dark, save the glow of a dim light they’ve put in the fireplace.
 

“Oak Island. This house is owned by, well it’s, uh—” Sean looks up at Marty. Still lying on my back, I look up at him expectantly.

“I own it.” Marty moves across the dark room and sits across from me on an old velvet chair that’s seen better days. He rests his elbows on his knees, leans forward, and clasps his hands together. His mop of hair falls over his eyes, hiding the cut I gave him earlier. He glares at the tattered Persian rug on the floor and growls, “Just say it Sean, or I will.”

But Sean doesn’t speak and neither does Marty. For a moment, the only sound I can hear is the roar of the ocean. Rain begins to bounce eerily off the dark windowpanes.
 

I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel it—things aren’t right. Something is off. Annoyed with both of them, I snap, “What’s going on? Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t seem like you’re being held hostage, Sean.”

Sean slips off the couch and kneels in front of me, taking both of my hands. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” His dark hair is a tousled mess, like he’s been riding his motorcycle without his helmet. There’s a cut on his cheek, and three-day-old scruff on his face. Dark circles line his eyes, as if he hasn’t slept since he last shaved.

“To you, maybe.” Head still swimming, I’m too woozy to yell. As the room wobbles, I remember Sean is the one who did this to me. Maybe it wasn’t his hand, but it was his idea. That means Sean and Marty are in this together, although I can’t see how. “This makes no sense! Why is Marty here? He tried to kill you and now you’re just hanging out together in a beach house?” I’m yelling again and trying to sit up.

“Lie down, Avery, or I’ll tie you down instead.” Sean has a wicked gleam in his eyes. I’m sure he’s not kidding and I’m also sure he’d like the opportunity.

“Sean,” Marty taps his watch, “time. The hour is almost up.”

Sean rises and grabs his hair, tugging it in frustration. He runs his palms down the back of his neck and makes an aggravated sound in the back of his throat. Finally, he turns to look at me. “It was fake. The whole thing.”

“You’re not hurt?” He shakes his head. “But I saw you get shot—I saw the blood. I saw Marty with the gun.”

“It was staged, Avery.”

“What? How? I saw Marty holding the gun and I saw your blood. I thought you were going to die, Sean. You were barely breathing. Are you saying that was all an act? Are you saying I saw an exploding ketchup bottle?” I glance at Marty and back at Sean. “I know what I saw.”

Sean’s voice is soft and patient. “No, you don’t. No one knows what they saw that night. It was a concert, Avery. There was smoke and flashing lights forcing your eyes to refocus every second. Marty held up his gun so they’d see him clearly raise his weapon. The rest was theatrics and luck. The strobe lights tricked your eyes into seeing something that didn’t actually happen. The fog machine covered me after I fell, the dye packs were top of the line, and the people in the ambulance and at the hospital were paid off. Avery, it was all fake.”

Chapter 5

My jaw is hanging open. “Why? Why would you fake being shot?” I can’t believe this.
 

“Marty’s boss put a hit on me. I did something that pissed him off and the hit was his version of payback. We orchestrated the shooting and tipped off the press to create media frenzy in the aftermath, making them think Marty took the shot. Avery, we did it all to make sure you didn’t end up in the ground next to your parents.”

My body goes cold as the remaining tension slips from my face. Shock makes my jaw drop. “My parents?” I think back to my mom’s note and fear pierces my heart. What does he know? “What’s going on? Gabe keeps warning me to run. If you don’t want me to take his advice, if you want to see my face tomorrow, you better tell me—”

Marty cuts me off, “Or what, Avery? You’ll run away? You’ll punch me in the nuts again? Thanks for that, by the way.” Marty squirms in his chair. The room is too dark to see him clearly.

Anger surges from within me. I turn to Sean. “You promised me no more lies. We were supposed to tell each other the truth, and this is what you do?”

“I know.” His voice is level, stoic.

“You promised me! You said you’d tell me everything, and here’s your chance. What about my parents? Tell me why the hell Marty is here with you. What the hell is going on, Sean?” My heart is thumping in my chest, threatening to explode against my ribs. My stomach sours and regret fills my mouth. “You said you were through lying to me, Sean.”
 

My rage turns on my friend, “And Marty—what the fuck? You let me think you tried to shoot the man I love? You let me think you stabbed me in the back? How could you? Both of you! How could you?” The two of them have been using me, tossing me around like a rag doll, as if their actions won’t affect me in the slightest. My anger fades. This is so Sean, so classically Sean Ferro. I gave him my heart and he’s still hiding from me.

What is he so afraid of? What’s behind those dark eyes that he can’t let me see?

“Because I–” Marty cuts off what he was going to say and jumps to his feet. His hands fly through the air frantically, as he searches for the words to explain. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to get close to you, get what I needed, and then get the fuck out. Instead, I met you and I liked you.” He glances at Sean like he couldn’t care less what the man thinks. “Avery, I want to protect you from all of this, but you’re right in the middle of it and that’s the worst place to be. I won’t let them hurt you. Not now, not ever. Please believe me. I’d tell you the truth, all of it, if I could, but I can’t.”

Glaring at him, I don’t know what to say. His words swirl in my mind like a gust of wind. I can’t hold onto them without wanting to cry. He sounds sincere, but I’ve been jerked around too many times to believe him anymore.
 

“Who are you? You’re not a college kid with no money if you own this house—it’s worth over a million bucks, easy. And if you’re working for someone who puts hits on people, you’re what? An enforcer? A mercenary? Do you take orders and kill people?” I push up on my elbows and lean against the back of the chaise, finally able to at least sit up. I already knew Sean was into some messed up shit, but Marty’s involvement blindsides me. “Who are you?”

Worry is pinching his face. I hear it in his voice as it tightens and gets higher. “I’m the same guy you met on campus. I’m the same guy who held you while you slept. Avery, you know me.”
 

Sean glances at me, shocked. “You slept with him?”

“Are you serious?” I blink at Sean. “With everything that’s going on, that’s what you think is messed up here?” Sean doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks away.

In two steps, Marty crosses the room and shoves Sean aside, trying to take my hand.

I push further back into the chaise and away from him. “Don’t touch me. Either of you.” Fear taints my voice and tightens my chest. Every muscle in my body is strung tight, ready to snap.

Marty’s golden eyes look away as he gives up and steps back. “Avery, I’d never hurt you. You just beat the shit out of me and I didn’t even fight back.”

Fear gives way to anger. It drips down my spine in a wave of hot pain. Working my jaw, I finally manage to spit out the words. “I trusted you! I trusted both of you and told you everything. You,” I say to Sean, “only tell lies, and Marty—you’re just as bad.”

“You don’t understand.” Marty says, looking horrified. He glances at Sean, silently pleading for help. “I can’t say no. I can’t tell them I won’t do it. It’s not an option and now I’m in this so deep I’ll be lucky if I come out alive. Thanks to Sean, I might—we might all survive.”
 

Marty steps toward me again, careful not to touch me. He kneels and places his hand on the arm of the couch. Eye to eye, he says, “Avery, they’ve been aiming for
you
. The hotel room, the pilot, the other dead hookers—every murder was an attempt on you. They think you know something, and they won’t stop until they either get what they want or you’re out of the way.”

“What are you talking about?” At first I have no clue, but then I realize what this is about. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’ve finally connected the dots and, consequently, terror turns my stomach into knots. “Who wants me dead?”

Sean finally speaks. “Victor Campone.”

Chapter 6

“What?” My voice squeaks. That name brings a fresh dose of fear, dousing me.

Sean explains, “Your mother got into some serious shit with his men when she was younger. Your father protected her as long as he could. The night they died, you were supposed to be in that car with them. They found your family and once they had you in their sights, decided their most effective course of action was to eliminate you all. But you stayed home that night and they didn’t know. Someone told them there were three people in the car. Someone lied straight to Campone’s face for you. That same someone also pretended to be gay to get near you.”

Shocked, I gape at Marty, unable to speak. Marty looks away, holding his hands behind his back. Campone is a drug lord and into shit so dark it makes night look like day. My stomach feels like it’s suspended in a free-fall.
 

I glance at Sean. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Sean stands rigid next to Marty, who has resumed his frantic pacing. Marty stops and watches Sean. They’re both on edge, tense and ready to fight.

I laugh coldly and shake my head. I’m so stupid. Never in a million years did I think that someone killed my parents. They weren’t murdered, they were in a car crash. It was one of those freak things that happens without purpose. I should have been in the car that night, but I had bitched to Mom that I didn’t want to go. I’m supposed to be in the ground with them.
 

Swallowing hard, I find my words and say to Sean, “It wasn’t a coincidence that you stumbled upon me that day when my car got jacked? It wasn’t by chance that you were at the diner? It wasn’t just happy luck that you were my first client at Miss Black’s either, was it?” That’s what Gabe has been trying to tell me all along, but I couldn’t see it. That’s why he hates Sean—he knows all this and probably more. I spit out my suspicion before I lose my nerve. “You were using me to find out whatever Campone wanted? You were just trying to get the information first, weren’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Sean stares at me with those intense blue eyes and his lips pressed into a hard, thin line.
 

I wish he’d say something. I wish he’d wrap his arms around me and tell me this is all a horrible joke, because I can’t accept what it really means. Lip trembling, I force out the question. “So Marty cares about me, and you don’t? You were using me to get what you wanted. Say it, Sean. I know it’s true. You used everything I told you against me.” In that instant, I think of the hospital. Of everything I told him, everything we did. “You even pretended to be in pain at the hospital when I kissed you. It was all fake, all of it.”