The handler, p.15
The Handler, page 15
I’m moving. I smile as I snuggle closer to Lucca. “What are you doing?” Why is he carrying me? The car journey and plane ride come back, and I look up at Lucca; only, the world is black.
I try to pull the blindfold off my face, but Lucca stops me. “You fell asleep on the plane. The blindfold is so you don’t know where we are.”
“That terrifies me,” I say, not liking having my sight taken from me. Laughter rattles Lucca’s chest, and that settles me.
Nothing is going to happen. Nothing bad is going to happen, I remind myself.
I hear a car door open, and then I’m placed on the seat. Lucca slides in beside me.
“How long will I be blindfolded?” I ask.
“Not long,” Lucca says as the car moves under us.
“Can I have some water?”
Silence. Moments later, a bottle touches my lips, and I drink deeply.
I’m restless for most of the journey, and when we stop, I’m ready to rip off the blindfold, but Lucca stops me.
“I need you to trust me.” His words carry a weight that wraps tightly around my throat. It takes me a moment, but I nod.
He helps me out of the car and stands me on the ground. The air is cold but fresh as I take a few steps.
The wind carries a smell that has my stomach tumbling and turning as we walk—turmoil tears through me. Lucca’s hand is solid in mine. I’m a pillar of sand, ready to dissolve. The ground beneath me isn’t firm; it shifts and sinks under my sneakers.
Hope of all hope blossoms like a poisonous plant.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“You’re nearly there, Evie.” His voice is a whispered promise in my ear. My fingers dance across the blindfold, but Lucca pulls my hand away.
“Nearly there.”
Cold water pours over my sneakers, filling them. Anyone else would dance away from the contact. My knees turn to jelly, and this time when I reach up and take off the blindfold, Lucca doesn’t stop me. I stare out at the ocean.
Lucca’s hand hasn’t left mine. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me still.
I taste the salt on my lips. My lids flutter closed as an onslaught of pain slashes through me. It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
I take a step into the water, letting it brush along my ankles—the waves rock and roar in the distance.
“I’m trying to right my wrongs.”
Lucca’s whispered words tear a sob from deep down inside me. All that lay there was rot. I had turned myself inside out for eight years. I had dreamed of returning here, of getting a do-over, and now here I stand. My home is behind me, but I’m too afraid to look. I’m too afraid of what I will find. So I stand in the waves.
I’m ten again. I’m being turned upside down by the waves. I’m back to that moment when I’m sinking, thinking I shouldn’t have left my bed.
Lucca’s warm hand in mine makes me look at him. He’s watching me.
He turns to me and takes my face in his hands. “Your parents are alive.”
A sob pours from my trembling, salty lips.
“They know you are alive. They are waiting for you.” Lucca turns toward the shore, and I follow where he’s looking. In the distance, I see my parents’ home, my home. It’s not a mirage. This isn’t a dream.
I’m home. I’m back in County Clare.
This is the moment I thought I would be running through the sand, screaming their names, but I can’t move.
“Do they know?” Tears drip down my face and coat my lips.
“Yes. I told them what happened.”
“Do they know your part in it?” I ask.
Lucca’s hand heats my cheeks. “I told them you escaped and met me, and I helped get you out of the country.”
It wasn’t far from the truth.
I swallow my pain.
“You did all this?”
Lucca releases me now, getting uncomfortable with any praise. My feet sink further into the wet sand, itching to move.
“It’s the least I could do.” Lucca looks away.
I look back at the house and wrap my arms around my waist. The cold has seeped into my shaky bones since Lucca released my face.
“Are they in the house?”
“Yes.”
I close my eyes briefly before looking at the house.
“It’s been eight years.”
Eight years of loss and pain.
Eight years of wondering.
The front door of my home opens, and a figure appears. I can barely see as the large man whose memory has kept me alive steps out.
“Dad.” It’s a whispered word filled with pain. He’s moving as if the wind carried my tortured word to him.
“Dad.” This time it isn’t a dream. I’m turning. I’m running toward my dad. Toward everything that kept me breathing all these years.
He meets me halfway, and I’m in his arms. The smell of home pours off him, and I can’t breathe because I’ve made it.
I’m home.
I’m really here. Sobs are pulled from the deepest part of my soul, and my dad’s soon match mine. Another set of arms embrace me. The tremble of our bodies is no match for what’s happening to our soul.
“My baby.” My mother’s cries have me trying to see her face, but she’s buried her head in my neck.
Her voice is sweeter than I remember. I’m clinging to my dad, whose strong arms hold me up. We stay like that for a while. My parents release me and grip my face.
“It’s really you,” my mother declares before dragging me back into her arms. My dad smiles, but I see the cracks and damage swirl in his eyes. Crinkles at the side of his eyes and my mother’s graying hair are true signs of the time that has passed.
My dad presses a kiss to my head. His gaze drifts behind me, and it’s then I remember Lucca.
“He’s the one who brought you back to us?”
I look at Lucca, who’s half watching us with hooded eyes.
“Yes.” I turn, but my mother’s hands don’t release me. “It’s okay, Mam.” I touch her fingers, but she doesn’t release me. I’m drawn back to Lucca.
“He spoke with us on the phone.” My dad is still looking at Lucca.
“Now you can meet him in person.” I smile at Lucca and wave him over.
He’s hesitant, but he starts to walk to us. My mother still holds me, and right now, I’m okay with that. The moment Lucca reaches us, he exhales a breath.
“Are you okay?” he asks, like my parents aren’t on either side of me.
I want to cry. I want to throw myself into his arms and thank him a million times over. “I am now that we’re all together.”
I glance up at my dad. “This is Lucca, my boyfriend.”
I don’t know who’s more surprised, Lucca or me. Lucca takes my dad’s outstretched hand and shakes it.
“Thank you, son, for bringing her home.” My dad’s voice shakes like it must have a thousand times over since I’ve been gone.
“You’re welcome.” Lucca has that uncomfortable look in his gaze again.
My mother releases me and attaches herself to Lucca. She’s crying, her words a jumble of thanks and pain.
“Come on, let’s get Evie home.” My dad has reclaimed it now. My mam releases Lucca, nodding several times.
I hold out my other hand for Lucca. “Let’s go home.”
He takes my hand. My mother sinks into my dad’s other side, and we walk back to the house. The small candle is burning in the window just like I remember. The sight of it twists me up before uncurling itself, and I know right there and then that I am truly home.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed The Handler.
The Sixth is the next book in the Cells of Kalashov series.
Read Tomas and Katina’s story HERE
Or read on for a sneak peek!
CHAPTER one
Thomas
THE DOOR OPENs and Vinny steps in. The black leather jacket he’s sporting is rubbed almost bare. I’ve never seen him take it off, no matter how warm it is. His gray mustache is the only facial hair he has, and the light bounces off his bald head.
The noise behind him has me touching my temples.
“What is it?” I ask, opening the bottom drawer of my desk and taking out the bottle of vodka. I set it on the desk and open the second drawer, reaching for some painkillers to get rid of my pounding headache.
“The delivery arrived.” Vinny’s words have me chucking back the tablets and rinsing them down with vodka. I grab my black jacket from the back of the chair and follow Vinny out of my office. Two girls get up off the floor as I walk past. I pause at a door. Two of the lads are talking but stop and straighten when they see me.
“Coffee break, lads?” I quiz. Roman stops stirring his tea.
“Get the girls out of the hall and back to work now.” I don’t need an audience every time I leave my office. The moment I step outside, the light burns my eyes. I take a pack of smokes out of my pocket and light up a fag.
A lorry is parked out back. Vinny moves ahead of me and takes a box. Marat is standing on the bed of the lorry. The small square boxes are stacked six high. I pull one over while taking a pocket knife from my back pocket. Flicking it open, I pause and flick the ashes off my fag before holding it to my mouth. The smoke burns my eyes as I open the box. After placing the knife back in my pocket, I remove the fag from my mouth and stamp on it.
I turn the pink teddy bear around in my hands and tear the stitching open. The white bag inside is what I’m searching for. I drop the teddy back into the box and open the bag before I dip a finger into it. I snort it, and the rush is instant as it speeds through my system. I feel better already.
I dip my finger in again and run some along my gums before looking up at Marat as he jumps down from the lorry and closes the door. All the boxes sit neatly in the yard. He knocks on the back, and the driver starts it up and leaves the yard.
“It’s good stuff. Pure,” I tell them.
“You want to give us a taste?” Vinny asks.
“Get it all inside and weigh it, and then we’ll see.” I place the bag back into the box as I speak to Vinny.
“I’ll be out for a while.”
I leave through the back gates and jog across the road to my car. Climbing in, the car dips, but it roars to life when I turn the key in the ignition. The purr of my baby has me rolling down the window and putting my foot to the floor.
The freedom of driving is as nice as the clothes on my back. Being in prison for a six-month stint makes you appreciate the small things in life. I pull up alongside the curb. The normally flashing pink neon lights over the strip joint are off at this time of day, but that doesn’t mean it’s closed. The owner is a sleaze who begged me to bail him out with fifty grand and I did. Now I’m here to collect.
I light a smoke as I close the car door. I don’t bother to lock it; no one would dare steal from me. Walking down the side alley, I reach and pull the handle on the door, only to find it locked. I inhale another three tugs of my smoke before I flick it against the wall, sparks flying as I clear three small steps and hop the fence. The door out back is open. Music assaults my ears the moment I enter.
The bartender looks up at me while drying a glass. I see it in his eyes—he wants to warn his boss that I’m here. I shake my head, and he continues to dry the glass. Two lone girls swing around poles in the empty club. Their eyes travel across me and they both smile. The red-cushioned velvet doors open easily as I enter the VIP area, and there I find him.
“Lenny, I’ve been ringing you.”
He pushes the girl off his lap. A black suit jacket covers most of her, and her long, sexy legs disappear into black shoes. She doesn’t move but stays seated on the floor, her face covered by long, straight black hair.
“Tomas. Was that you ringing?”
I smile at his bullshit. “You got my money?”
He starts to stutter. I glance around at the bottles of champagne and cocaine splashed across the glass-top table. “Looks to me like you got plenty of it.”
I pick up a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar bottle of champagne.
“I’ll get you your money.” His stutter doesn’t push any confidence into his words.
“I want all the juice on it right now.”
His mouth opens and closes like a fish. “That’s like one hundred percent.”
I always charge one hundred percent interest on my loans.
“All the juice, now,” I repeat. The girl is watching me through her curtain of hair, and when my eyes snap to her, she quickly ducks her head again. She looks familiar. Maybe I banged her once. But I would remember legs like those.
“I’ll get it for you, Tomas. Come on, sit down. It couldn’t have been easy inside.”
I’ll play along with him. I have time. I pick up a glass and pour myself some champagne, then take a mouthful.
“There’s more of us inside than out here. So I had a fucking holiday,” I tell him without humor, and he swallows around the lump in his throat.
“Tomas.” There’s a pleading tone in his voice, and I’m starting to feel a bit trigger happy.
“When I finish this champagne, I expect my money to be on the table.” I raise the glass and take a sip.
“You mean the bottle?”
“No, Lenny. The glass.”
He’s up, his fat body awkwardly making the transition from sitting to standing. Once again, my eyes flicker to the girl who still sits on the ground. She looks smaller with how she’s pulled her legs in like she’s trying to go unnoticed.
“Lenny!” I call. Wild eyes look back at me. “Don’t run. Don’t make me come looking for your fat ass.”
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OTHER BOOKS BY VI CARTER
THE CELLS OF KALASHOV
THE COLLECTOR #1
THE SIXTH #2
THE HANDLER #3
MURPHY'S MAFIA MADE MEN
SINNER'S VOW #1
SAVAGE MARRIAGE #2
SCANDALOUS PLEDGE #3
SONS OF THE MAFIA
SINS OF THE MAFIA #0.5
VENGEANCE IN BLOOD # 1
YOUNG IRISH REBELS SERIES
MAFIA PRINCE #1
MAFIA KING #2
MAFIA GAMES #3
MAFIA BOSS #4
MAFIA SECRETS #5
WILD IRISH SERIES
FATHER (PREQUEL)
VICIOUS #1
RECKLESS #2
RUTHLESS #3
FEARLESS #4
HEARTLESS #5
THE BOYNE CLUB
DARK #1
DARKER # 2
DARKEST #3
PITCH BLACK #4
THE OBSESSED DUET
A DEADLY OBSESSION #1
A CRUEL CONFESSION #2
BROKEN PEOPLE DUET
DECIEVE ME #1
SAVE ME #2
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Vi Carter - the queen of DARK ROMANCE, the mistress of suspense, and the high priestess of PLOT TWISTS!
When she's not busy crafting tales of the MAFIA that'll leave you on the edge of your seat, you can find her baking up a storm, exploring the gorgeous Irish countryside, or spending time with her three little girls.
Vi's Young Irish Rebels series has been praised by readers and can be found in English, Dutch, German, Audible and soon will be available in French.
And let's not forget her two greatest loves: coffee and chocolate. If you ever need to bribe her, just offer up a mug of coffee and a slab of chocolate, and she'll be putty in your hands.
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Editorial Reviews
"Vi Carter has once again blown my mind with another outstanding story. She never fails to create a masterpiece with memorable characters that leap off the page. This book is complete perfection."- USA Today Bestselling Author Khardine Gray
Vi is one of those authors who never disappoints. She weaves LOVE & DANGER effortlessly. ★★★★★ stars
I definitely recommend this book. It is SUSPENSEFUL and exciting. I enjoy reading Vi Carter's book. ★★★★★ stars
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’m very lucky to have such amazing readers and Beta Readers. I want to thank the following people who worked with me on this book.
Editor: Sherry Schafer
Proofreader: Michele Rolfe
Blurb was written by: Tami Thomason
Beta Readers
Amanda Sheridan
Lucy Korth
Tami Thomason
Vi Carter, The Handler
