Merciless

He should’ve written this shit down the first time.

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Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, he grabbed a pen and one of the many scraps of papers he had on his dining room table. He wasn’t the most organized bachelor. And he worked a lot. There wasn’t time to clean up half the time. When he was home, he wanted to rest.

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“Dad, can you repeat that again?”

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“What?”

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Stones chuckled. “Everything.”

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The long, exaggerated sigh that hit his ear made him laugh even more. “Son, this is the last time.”

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He wouldn’t disagree. Having to tell him for the third time was kind of ridiculous. But what could he say? He thought he’d retain the information the first time when his dad told him everything so far for Keith and Emily’s wedding preparations.

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Then when Windy reached out asking where they were at, he’d forgotten it all. He’d shared tidbits of what he remembered, but her irritated and stern tone told him he needed to call his dad one more time before he left this morning.

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She had his dad’s number. They’d talked themselves several times. She could get the information straight from the source instead of making him do it, but that’s what Windy did. Made things difficult for him.

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All.

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The.

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Time.

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She claimed she didn’t have time to do it this morning and then hung up on him. Usual conversation for them. She spoke, rarely let him get a word in, then cut the chat off without even saying good-bye.

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This time, he’d write it down.

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No way he could forget anything.

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His dad rattled everything off with quick precision.

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All cabins had been booked and paid for. Nineteen people total. Low-key like the happy couple asked for.

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Catering company booked and paid for.

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The grounds where they were renting the cabins also had a nice large building for events such as this, and they’d be utilizing it for the reception. They would also be supplying the tables, chairs, linens, and decorations.

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The officiant was ready and waiting to perform the nuptials. They decided to get married at the park instead of in a church.

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Photographer booked, however, not paid yet.

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“Whoa. Why haven’t we paid the photographer?”

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Because between him, his dad, Windy, and Emily they’d been handling everything. Keith, the lucky bastard, had merely been a decoration in the background. His dad did the asking around town for the best places to use. Then he and Windy did more research on the places. Because only the best would work for Keith and Emily. They’d tell his dad what they thought, his dad would voice his opinion. Sometimes they went around in circles, trying to come to an agreement. Then they’d bring Emily in on the conversation, who always wanted to be a peacemaker between the three, but could never make a decision either. With four people involved in the planning, it had gotten chaotic.

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“Well, Emily can’t decide on the package she wants, and until she does, he’s not getting a dime,” his dad grunted in his ear.

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“Spill, Dad. What’s the problem? I thought this guy came recommended. I liked his website. The photos he takes look amazing.”

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“Sure, sure.” Another annoying grunt. “Mariana says he’s the best in the area.”

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Okay.

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His dad’s reaction made more sense.

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Mariana thought she knew the best about everything. The worst gossiper in their small town. In everyone’s business, no matter how many times they tried to tell her to get out of it.

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Like the idiot he could be, he’d slept with her once when he was fresh out of high school. Young and dumb.

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The way she’d latched on to him as if they were headed down the aisle had sent him running out of town. He wouldn’t say it was the main reason he joined the FBI, but it had been a deciding factor. Get as far away from the bloodsucking viper as he could. She hadn’t changed in all the years he’d been gone. He hoped he didn’t cross paths with her while he was in town.

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“Do we need to find another photographer? I haven’t spoken to Emily in a few days. Why is she so hesitant to pick a package?” And he and Keith did not talk wedding shit at work. The past week they’d been swamped, especially since they were both taking two weeks off. If his partner was off work, then so was he. Unlike Keith, who was heading for his honeymoon after the nuptials, he’d be hanging around his apartment enjoying the downtime. He’d have time to clean it up for once.

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“The prices are ridiculous. I could grab a camera and do the job for free and they’d look beautiful.” His dad delivered another huff that made him chuckle under his breath.

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And he didn’t doubt his dad would do a good job.

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If he stayed sober for the entire evening.

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And remaining level-headed was an issue for his dad. As long as he called him before two or three in the afternoon, he got a clear-minded person on the other end. After that timeframe, it was a toss-up how drunk his dad would be. Considering he started drinking in the morning, he was usually pretty drunk.

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No matter how many times he tried to get his dad help, he resisted. So, after a while, he stopped trying. Stones did the best he could keeping an eye on him. Which was why he called him at least once week. Without being too obvious, he inquired about his health and such.

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At this point in his dad’s life, Stones doubted he’d ever change his ways. The day he lost his wife—and he lost his mom—he’d taken solace in the bottle. That had been thirty damn years ago. It’d be near impossible to change that part of him, no matter how much he tried.

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“I’ll chat with Emily and, if need be, call the guy myself.” Or maybe he’d have Windy do it. “Or better yet—”

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“Have Windy do it.”

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Laughter rang from both sides of the phone as his dad finished the sentence along with him.

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“Can’t wait to meet the young lady. Sure do like chatting with her.”

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That made one of them.

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Stones was not looking forward to the car ride later this morning. How he got saddled with bringing her with him…

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It was best not to dwell on it.

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“I’m sure she’s everything you pictured.” And more.

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The woman was over the top, absurd, and downright malevolent toward him. She hated his guts and he shared the same sentiment right back at her. But only because she hated him. If she changed her tune, he would have no problem changing his.

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He was a lover, not a fighter. Especially with women.

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One nice thing about her, nobody said no to her. Nobody got away with anything. Nobody took advantage of them.

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So if there was something fishy going on with the photographer, she’d handle it with her eyes closed. Because Stones suspected something other than high prices was going on. Emily had finalized and paid for everything else without fanfare. The photographer should’ve been paid too.

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“Oh, before I let you go, the caterer, they’re also handling the cake, right?”

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God, he hoped so.

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When Windy asked him yesterday, the venomous tone when he hesitated, unsure of the answer, said he better have the information squared away before she fried him to a crisp.

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“I think so.”

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This time he groaned. “Dad, we need to make sure. What’s the number for them? I’ll call right now.”

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More grumbling touched his ear. “The amount of times I’ve told you this information…”

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Yeah, yeah, he knew.

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So he was a bit scatterbrained at times. If he didn’t write something down right away, he didn’t retain the information.

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Well, when it came to non-work-related things.

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Now crimes.

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That was his forte.

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Once something hit his eyesight, he couldn’t erase it.

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More specifically…

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All the dead bodies and bruised and battered people. The horror he witnessed day in and day out, how could anyone forget it?

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He could look at a case file, stare at the crime scene photos of a stabbing victim and know their name, date of birth, favorite color, and how many times they were stabbed.

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But ask him to help plan a wedding and the information flew out of his brain as soon as it hit his ear.

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“Last time, I promise. I have the pen and paper ready.” He scrunched his forehead. Well, pen and grocery receipt ready. It had been the nearest thing available to him when he wrote it all down.

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He got the information he needed, told his dad he’d see him in a few hours, and hung up. Then he called Emily about the photographer.

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He found out it hadn’t been the prices that had her hesitating, but the way he spoke to her. She’d been off-put by his attitude.

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Problem solved.

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They were not using him. Stones didn’t care if everyone else in his small town used the guy. He’d throw that little bomb at Windy when he picked her up and have her search for a new photographer they could secure for a wedding in two days.

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Shouldn’t be a problem at all.

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At least, not his problem.

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It would be the she-devil’s problem. And he had no regrets about forcing the issue on her. It was the least she deserved after all the insults and glares she’d sent his way.

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Why?!

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That’s what he wanted to know.

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From the moment she met him, she’d hated him on sight. And without him even opening his mouth to greet her.

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Rude!

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But she was one of Emily’s best friends, and he had to live with that because Keith was his best friend and he wasn’t walking away from the longest friendship he’d ever had. That included growing up. Because making friends had not been his specialty. Not in a town where his dad was known as the drunk.

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Then he called the catering company and suppressed a groan when they informed him they weren’t supplying the wedding cake.

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Shit.

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Shit, shit, shit.

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Windy was going to murder him the moment she saw him.

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* * *

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She slapped the hand that was about to swipe the piece of bacon off her plate. “Try again and die.”

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Ralph’s lips curled upward into an evil smirk, his eyes portraying he was going through every scenario on how to get the piece of bacon. That death would be worth it.

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Since she’d nabbed the last two pieces—eaten one of them—from the plate before he’d made it to the kitchen, she knew how much he wanted it.

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“You’re supposed to share.”

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Her eyes narrowed.

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“He has a point, Win.”

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Windy threw her foster mom—though she saw her as her real mom at this point in her life—her most endearing smile. “But I have a long car ride with the most obnoxious man on the planet. I need fortification for it.”

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Her mom clucked her tongue, not buying that reason for a second. Since she’d had a piece already, she was being forced to give up the last one to her annoying foster brother.

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While each and every one of her siblings—five brothers and two sisters—were not her actual siblings by blood, they were her family. Her everything.

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She snatched the piece of bacon, chomping on half of it and then handed the other half to her brother.

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The nasty glare from him didn’t stop her from chewing vigorously and with a beaming tilt of her lips.

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“Better take what I’m willing to give you before that disappears too.”

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The bacon was snatched out her hand as laughter circled around the room.

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Everyone was in attendance.

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Because of her.

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They made it a family ritual to have Sunday dinner together. Every single week. It was something she looked forward to rather than dreading it like she figured some people might. Since she wouldn’t be there this Sunday, they’d all rearranged their schedules to have breakfast together before she left.

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Two days from now, one of her best friends was getting married to the most handsomest, kindest man she’d ever met.

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She hated the jealousy that swarmed her system every now and again, and for her to hate something, it had to be the most horrible, vile thing on earth. But she was only human. A woman who ached for what Emily had.

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Love.

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Happiness.

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A man by her side who supported her in all the ways that counted.

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“Gonna finish that?” Bode swiped her glass of orange juice off the counter, gulping in one large swallow.

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“Yes!”

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“Too bad.”

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Cue the arguing.

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Because that’s what she and her siblings did best. Squabble and nitpick and get on each other’s nerves as often as they could. It was their love language.

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“Enough!”

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The kitchen fell silent.

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Usually, they ate at the large table in the dining room, but since they all had somewhere to be soon, breakfast had been a boisterous affair in the kitchen while their mom cooked.

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Now they stared at their mom. Hands on the hip. Spatula dangling from one of her hands. Tight-lipped expression.

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“If all of you don’t start treating each other with respect, you’re getting porridge next time. And not the yummy kind I make.”

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Windy didn’t think there was even a good kind of porridge, but she was wise enough not to disagree with her mom.

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“Now, the lot of you, tell your sister to be safe and have fun and” –her mom stared hard at her— “use condoms if the need arises.”

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Windy groaned, breaking eye contact with her mom, but not before seeing the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

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“Yeah, Windy, condoms are always a must!” Roman chortled from the other side of the kitchen.

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“As if you’ve ever even had the chance to use one,” Celeste, her beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed sister quipped. “And if so, I bet it’s the extra-small size you buy.”

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Roman grew beet-red as snickers gathered around the room.

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The spatula made a loud smack as their mom hit it against the counter. “We don’t disparage each other about our bodies. We love our bodies no matter how normal or abnormal they might be.”

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“Yes, Momma,” they all said in unison.

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Though daggers and glares flew across the room as they all eyed each other.

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“Now, my favorite part.” Her mom held out her hand to Hudson, who stood on her right, then to Esther, who stood to her left. “Come on now, children.”

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With all of them in their twenties and thirties, none were considered children any longer, yet when her mother said it like that, it always made her feel like that twelve-year-old little girl who’d met her for the very first time.

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She grabbed a hold of Bode’s hand to her left, then Liam to her right. Once everyone had joined the circle, they all took time to look at each other. This time, with smiles and grins of delight.

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Her mom started it off, lifting Esther’s hand. “My sweet, adorable Esther, may you have a beautiful day as beautiful as you are. You have the best ponytail I’ve ever seen.”

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Esther blushed, which she was prone to do for just about everything. It was a nice ponytail. She had a lot of hair. A lot. But not a strand was out of place—as it was wont to do—and pulled back in a nice smooth path. Even the strands hanging down in the back weren’t curly and bushy like they normally were, as if she’d taken the time to straighten it. And it had to have taken forever. Taming her hair was like taming a wild beast. Before Windy’s mind could venture into memories of helping her brush out tangles, Esther, in her shy, quiet voice, turned to Ralph who stood on her other side. “Raf, I like the color blue on you. That shirt brings out the color in your eyes.”

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Windy swore Ralph even blushed, and that man didn’t blush at anything. Esther had come into this home at the age of eight and had a hard time with her speech. Most people hadn’t been able to understand anything she said until she started therapy to help improve it. From the moment she was introduced to Ralph, the way she said his name came out like Raf without the ‘l’. Even at the age of twenty-three, and with her speech much improved, she’d never changed how she addressed him.

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Then the moment was over as he turned to Liam. “Your eye isn’t black and blue anymore. You did your makeup really well this morning.”

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Snickers filtered around the room. Liam wasn’t amused.

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Neither was their mother, who cleared her throat.

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“Yeah, okay, sorry. I saw your fight last week and you were amazing.”

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“Thanks, man.” Liam lifted the corner of his lip up. “And I might’ve put a bit of concealer on too, so thanks for that as well.”

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Chuckles went around the room.

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Liam inhaled dramatically, then cocked another signature wild grin as he turned to her. “Windy, my Win, you are the only person I know who can wear tie-dye yoga pants and look great. And your ass looks amazing in them.”

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She wiggled said body part, giggling. “It does, doesn’t it?” Then she twisted her attention to Bode. “Chatting with you yesterday brightened my day. So thank you.”

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Before he’d called, she had been having the worst day ever. Not a moment of it she wanted to remember. It had all started when she spoke to Stones…

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He squeezed her hand as if he knew, even though she hadn’t told him anything that had been bothering her. She’d chatted with him to get her mind off things, and he provided the distraction she had needed.

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Bode looked at Roman. “The enchiladas you made last Sunday were da bomb. Like, seriously, dude, delish. I know you’re going to have the run of your own kitchen someday.”

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Roman gave a tight nod, and if Windy saw correctly, a slight wetness to his eyes. He never took compliments about his cooking well. The hardest critic on himself. Then he switched his attention to Celeste. “My beautiful Barbie doll, your beauty, as always, captivates me and makes me feel like I crawled out of a dumpster.”

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Celeste giggled, then snorted. The normal reaction when something tickled her funny bone. Even that she did in an adorable, sexy manner. It could get nauseating at times how beautiful and perfect she was. “Knowing you, Rome, you did climb out of a dumpster. You smell something, you investigate it.”

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He shrugged with no argument because she wasn’t wrong.

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Celeste turned to Hudson. “I know you sweated about the midterm exams, but they’re over and you killed them. So congrats.”

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Hudson beamed with pride. “I totally did.” Then he turned to their mom. “Always the best for last. Momma, you are the most beautiful woman in this room, the most loving and caring individual that we could ever have the privilege of calling Mom. Thank you for putting up with our crazy-ass antics.”

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“Oh, stop, you,” their mom said with teary eyes. “Now, I want all of you to go out into this big, beautiful world and spread more kindness.”

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They all dropped each other’s hands.

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“And don’t get arrested or die on me.”

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They all laughed at her parting comments she always ended on.

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Windy had no plans to do either.

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Though, being stuck in a car with the last man she wanted to be with would be a testament to her patience.

 

Hopefully, she wouldn’t get arrested—for killing him.

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* * *

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A knock sounded on the door. He looked up from his desk and waved his right-hand man inside his office.

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“Sir, we are all packed up and ready to go. We have eyes on the target.”

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He folded his fingers into a temple, nodding. “Let me know when he’s leaving the city. We’ll be right behind him.”

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“Yes, sir.”

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Then his best enforcer left his office.

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It had taken a long time to get to this point.

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So much surveillance.

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So much waiting.

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So much patience that he was running out of it.

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The stupid fed had no idea he’d been watching him for weeks. When he left for work. What he was doing while on the job. Following him home. If he so much as took a piss, his people reported it back to him.

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When he’d learned about the details about his partner getting married—and out of the city—he knew he’d hit pay dirt. He’d been waiting for this wedding to arrive for three and a half weeks. It provided him with the perfect opportunity to make his move.

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Once out of the city, Special Agent Owen Stones was a dead man—and anyone else who got in his way.

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He knew the guest list was full of law enforcement. The fellow agent he worked with every single day. The rest were at the local level. Several detectives from the city. Some officers from out of state.

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It didn’t matter.

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He’d kill them all if he had to.

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He was not letting Agent Stones get away from the turmoil he had caused. The pain he had to endure because of him…

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He wouldn’t get away with it. He’d make him pay.

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Before he killed him, he’d make sure the man understood how he’d messed up. He planned to torture him until the agent begged for his life. Of course, it wouldn’t matter how hard or for how long he begged, the man would die.

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But he’d make it the most slow, painful death that had ever been dealt.