Too Far Gone (Sam Pope Series Book 4) Page 3

  Abdul Qadir. Deceased.

  Aljulad bin Baghdad.

  The Hangman of Baghdad.

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  Sam crossed his arms across his broad chest, his recently healed bullet wound causing his shoulder to ache. As a light drizzle sprinkled the Italian evening, he looked out of the window of the small flat to the street below. A few hours before, gridlocked traffic had brought the city to a crawl as everyone returned to their homes. Their normal lives.

  A world away from where he was.

  Now, a few cars glided up the wide roads, their lights cutting through the rain as it splattered from the skies above.

  Behind him, Alex rolled her eyes, slightly limping as she walked to the small rail where they hung the few clothes they owned. When she’d taken Sam to the veterinarian to save his life, she also had the young vet treat the bullet wound in her own leg.

  Growing up in the Bronx in New York, Alex had been in her fair share of scrapes, especially as she ventured into the world of street racing. There had been a nasty collision when someone tried to run her off the road as she hurtled towards the finish line, sending her careening into a parked truck. The impact had sent a shockwave through her body and the whiplash was immense.

  But the pain of being shot was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and she was grateful it had been a flesh wound.

  Sam had applied a makeshift tourniquet at the time, which the young vet had told her had probably saved her life.

  An act she’d repaid when she’d collided with the gunman who was ready to execute Sam in the middle of the street.

  But now, as she slid her toned arms into her jacket, she was beginning to tire of Sam’s worry.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not,’ she said coldly. ‘We need the money.’

  Sam turned from the window and sighed. The bond they’d built over the past few months had outweighed the original attraction that had seen them spend the night together on a Berlin-bound train. Now, he cared deeply for the young woman. She was in just as deep as he was, yet she didn’t know it.

  While she had street smarts in abundance, and the skills behind the wheel of a car that would make an F1 driver blush, she didn’t have the same survival skills he did.

  She’d never needed them.

  Until now.

  ‘So, who is this guy?’ Sam asked.

  ‘His name is Matteo.’ Alex pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and lit the end. Sam gently pushed the window open and she nodded her thanks. ‘He just needs a driver.’

  ‘That’s it? That’s all you know?’

  Alex blew the smoke into the air and shook her head.

  ‘What do you want me to do, Sam? Check his fucking papers?’

  ‘No, I need you to be smart,’ Sam said coldly. ‘I know I’ve been out of action and you’ve been making some money racing, but this guy shows up out of nowhere with a job for you to do? It sounds suspicious.’

  ‘Just to let you know, most guys who are involved in street racing usually are suspicious.’ She took another pull. ‘He showed up a few nights ago, said I drove well and that he needed a driver for a job.’

  ‘And that’s it?’

  ‘That’s it.’ Alex stubbed the cigarette out on the window ledge and stepped past Sam. ‘He’s paying good money which we need if we’re going to get back to New York.’

  ‘I know you want to get back to your family, Alex, but…’

  ‘But what? What, Sam?’ Alex snapped. ‘My brother and sister are waiting for me and god knows what the fuck has happened since we’ve been gone. For all I know, my mum’s OD’d and they’re in some foster home. Or worse. If I could drive this car across the damn ocean, I would. Matteo is paying enough money for us to get there and you can bet your life I’ll do anything to get home.’

  Alex was shaking, the anger and pain from being away from her siblings was threatening to detonate like a bomb. Sam stepped forward and protectively wrapped his arms around her. Despite her pride, she fell into his hug and Sam gently rubbed her back.

  She knew he cared.

  Probably too much.

  It was a notion that was lost on her. Her deadbeat dad had never been around, and her mum had long since lost herself to addiction. Alex had had a few boyfriends in her time, none of them amounting to more than a few months of passionate sex before she cut any emotional ties.

  It was a comfort she didn’t need.

  But Sam was different. His past was his own, one he was reluctant to share, but his compassion for her was obvious. She adored the love that had grown between them, one that hadn’t led to any further trysts between the sheets but one that had grown to a genuine friendship.

  As she stepped away from him, she offered him her striking smile.

  ‘Your hair is getting a bit long,’ she finally said, chuckling as the fringe flopped over his brow.

  ‘I need you,’ Sam said quietly. ‘You’ve kept me alive all this time and now I’m fighting fit. If this guy is dodgy or worse, a cop, then all this goes away. All the hope you have of getting home is gone.’

  ‘This guy isn’t a cop,’ Alex said, stepping away from Sam and heading towards the door. Outside, the spring shower had gotten heavier, the rain clattering against the metal stairs and echoing like a maraca. ‘Just have a bit of faith in me to know what I’m getting myself into.’

  Sam readied to respond and then thought better of it. One thing he admired about the woman was her fearlessness. He was just concerned that her drive to return home would turn that to recklessness.

  Deep in thought, Sam finally turned back to the window and looked out at the city, watching the rain fall.

  Alex took a step towards the door.

  ‘Everything will be fine, Sam.’ She yanked the door open, and a chilled breeze blew through the small apartment. ‘I promise.’

  With that, she stepped out and pulled the door closed. As her boots clattered the metal of the stairs, Sam could feel an unease in his stomach.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  Without a doubt, some very powerful people would be looking for him, with enough resources to run a small country. Besides, the people hunting Sam didn’t like to leave behind a trace.

  He knew that. He used to work for them.

  Ervin Wallace was a terrifying human being, but he wasn’t stupid. After Alex had saved his life, there was no doubt in his mind that Wallace would be turning over every stone possible to reach him. All he needed was a whiff of where he was, and the man would turn his attack dogs on him in a heartbeat.

  If Alex was walking into a sting operation, the worst that she saw happening was she might get arrested. But unlike Sam, she had her actual passport.

  Alex Stone.

  The name would flash up on so many Blackridge databases it would look like a Christmas tree.

  They would have her locked away until Wallace got there, and his patience was thin at the best of times. Despite her toughness, Sam knew she would have a pain threshold that Wallace would be all too eager to discover. Once that happened, she would be nothing more than a loose end.

  Another death on Sam’s conscience.

  ‘Fuck it,’ Sam said, hurrying across the room to the small cupboard and pulling the tatty leather jacket Alex had purchased for him from a local charity shop. It wrapped snugly around his muscular frame and he stretched out his back, ignoring the dull pain that faintly resonated from his injury.

  He wasn’t fully fit.

  But he was still enough.

  With his chances of keeping Alex in his eyeline dissipating with every second, he rushed out of the door, leaving the frame shaking as he slammed it behind him.

  Chapter Four

  The Pannuci Ripairazano Auto sign had long since faded, with the letters barely eligible. Some time ago, it had been a successful repair shop, run by a local family just making an honest living. Offering expertise and a friendly atmosphere, their business soon hit the skids when the patriarch,
Salvatore was taken ill.

  When he passed, the business fell upon his two sons who soon sold up, splitting whatever money they could and letting the business fade away, like the sign that once hung proudly above it.

  As Alex Stone walked down the narrow side street towards the abandoned garage, she wondered how long since it had seen any business.

  Legal business.

  Shivering slightly in the spring chill, she marched past a few parked cars, ignoring the men stood on the other side of the road sharing a cigarette and some friendly banter. One of them called out to her, eliciting a giggle from his friend. While not fluent in the native tongue, Alex knew it wasn’t complimentary.

  She passed a couple more cars and a few parked motorcycles and then stepped onto the rain soaked asphalt that led to the workshop.

  As the wind danced through her hair, she approached the large, rusty shutter that fell below the sign like rotten teeth. Beside it, another metal door stood, the padlock missing.

  This was the place.

  As she raised her fist, she paused.

  What if Sam was right?

  Alex wasn’t afraid of breaking the law. She’d done it for most of her life. She didn’t take pride in being a criminal, but she did from doing what she needed to keep her siblings on a better path. She’d been happy to rip up her own future to ensure theirs.

  And while Sam’s overly cautious approach to her racing was annoying at times, she understood. They were in danger and the sooner they could get to America, the better. But his concern for this meeting was gnawing at her like an unfathomable toothache.

  ‘Come on, Alex,’ she muttered under her breath, before slamming the side of her fist against the metal, rainwater splashing down her wrist.

  She shot a glance over her shoulder. The two men had gone and behind her the side street was eerily quiet. In the far distance, she saw someone round the corner, but the street lights and rain shrouded them in darkness.

  Just a local resident, heading home after an evening out.

  A large clang echoed from the other side of the door, startling Alex, who cursed herself. Sam had gotten in her head and she composed herself as the large metal door groaned open.

  A large, bearded man appeared from the shadow, his dark eyes hiding beneath a thick brow and a shaved head. His leather jacket hugged his bulky frame tightly and Alex could see the gun tucked under his arm. He glared at her, looking her up and down before arching his neck and grunting.

  Alex snapped into action.

  ‘Ciao to you, too,’ she said slyly, stepping over the threshold and into the dark garage.

  The metal door slammed shut behind her.

  Alex stepped cautiously into the derelict building, her eyes scanning the dusty remnants of a once thriving workshop. Dimly lit by a few lamps placed strategically around the room, she walked past a few pits, once used to allow the mechanics enough space to stand underneath the vehicles they were working on. Cluttered work benches lined the walls, along with a few distasteful calendars. A shell of a car still stood proudly on its bracket, the wheels gone and the interior looted. She slowed, interested in the model of the car, but received a firm nudge from the brute who had decided to chaperone her.

  She shot him a dirty look, then carried on forward, feeling a sense of unease as they approached a lone metal chair in the middle of the workshop. From the shadows created by the makeshift light, a well-dressed man stepped out, a smile etched across his handsome face.

  ‘Ciao, bella.’

  Matteo.

  Decked in a black bomber jacket, jumper, and jeans, he looked like he was heading for a date as opposed to running a job.

  A job she knew nothing about.

  Matteo approached her, his slick, black hair parted to the side and his stubbled jaw still smiling.

  ‘Matteo.’

  ‘Please. Take a seat.’ He offered politely, his English struggling through a thick Italian accent.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Alex said nervously, glancing as the large bouncer who had followed her stood to the side, his arms folded across his wide chest.

  ‘We need to discuss,’ Matteo said again, his white teeth glistening in the faint light. ‘I insist.’

  Behind him, a woman and two men stepped out from the shadows, all of them decked in similar black attire. Alex felt her stomach drop. She recognised the dress code.

  She’d adhered to it once herself.

  Sensing her fear was becoming palpable, she offered a friendly smile to Matteo, who stood a few feet from her.

  ‘You know what?’ she said as confidently as she could muster. ‘I think I’m going to go.’

  As she turned, the doorman stepped in her path, an ugly smirk contorting his face.

  ‘Okay, let’s cut the bullshit,’ Matteo said, his Italian accent replaced instantly with one similar to her own. ‘Sit your fucking ass down in the chair or I’ll have Luca do it for you.’

  Alex turned back, facing Matteo whose smile had completely vanished. Alex felt her fists clench, but weighing up her odds, she didn’t think she would last long. Resigned to her fate, she calmly walked past him and approached the chair.

  ‘Good accent, by the way,’ she said dryly, dropping into the chair. ‘You learn that while sucking these guys off?’

  ‘You got a foul mouth,’ Matteo replied. ‘Keep running it and I’ll let the boys here try it out.’

  The threat was very real, and Alex did her best to remain calm.

  ‘So, you’re Blackridge, huh?’ Alex asked.

  ‘No, I’m Matt Brecker.’ He motioned to everyone else. ‘We’re all Blackridge. Believe you were, too?’

  ‘Not my finest moment.’

  ‘It should have been,’ Matt said, his arms behind his back as if standing to attention. ‘Better than running these streets like a gutter rat.’

  ‘Girl’s gotta make a living.’

  ‘Pretty face like yours, I’m sure you could have excelled at other lines of work.’ Matt smiled.

  ‘You’re a charmer.’

  ‘It worked didn’t it?’ he said smugly. ‘Didn’t take much to get you salivating at a big pay day. Now, why don’t you tell me where he is?’

  ‘Who?’

  Alex felt a nervous sweat begin to trickle down the back of her neck. Considering her situation, she wondered if antagonising the group was the right way to go. Matt grinned.

  ‘Your loyalty is admirable.’ He reached into the pocket of his jacket. ‘Where is Sam Pope?’

  She glanced around the room, making eye contact with the bloodthirsty crew that were spread out around the workshop. They looked like a pack of starved hyenas waiting for their alpha to give them go ahead.

  ‘I…don’t…know,’ she stammered unconvincingly.

  ‘Sure you do.’ Matt pulled a pair of leather gloves from his pocket and made a show of sliding hi hands into them. ‘So why don’t you save yourself a hell of a lot of pain and me a needless workout.’

  ‘Are you going to stop talking?’

  Alex immediately regretted her remark, as the back of Matt’s leather clad hand struck her viciously across the jaw. The blow was swift, and she felt the blood trickle from the split in her lip. As she took a breath, Matt squatted down in front of her, his hands relaxed over his knees and he regarded her with pity.

  ‘Let me tell you how this is going to go. I’m going to ask you a few more times and in some ill-placed sense of loyalty, you’re going to keep giving me a smart answer. I’m then going to have to hurt you pretty badly. Then, once you’ve been through more pain than you ever though imaginable, you’re going to tell me what I need to know. So why don’t you just save yourself the bother?’ Matt smiled and nodded. ‘So, I’ll ask again. Where is Sam Pope?’

  Alex drew the blood into her mouth, swashed it around with some saliva and spat it straight at him. The projectile caught him on his cheek and shoulder, and he stepped back in disgust.

  Like a cobra striking, his fist caught her on the bridge of her
nose, breaking it instantly and sending her and the chair crashing to the ground. With her arms shaking, Alex pushed herself onto her elbow, the blood dripping from her nose and tears streaming from her eyes.

  The pain was excruciating.

  Her fear was almost uncontrollable.

  Her mind raced back to the underground bunker on the outskirts of Rome, where she’d lay in agony, a bullet wound in her leg. But then, she had Sam Pope fighting for her life.

  A fight he would win.

  Now she was alone.

  ‘Get her up,’ Matt spat, dabbing at his cheek with his gloved hand, wiping away the phlegm with a sneer of disgust on his face. The two henchmen stepped forward, roughly grabbing Alex by the arms and hauling her upwards. The female member of the group reset the chair and they dumped her onto it. All of them watched without a hint of remorse as Matt stepped forward again.

  ‘That was disgusting,’ he said calmly. ‘If you do that again, I will cut out your tongue and you will have to write out the address with your own blood. Capisce?’

  Luca chuckled and Alex eventually nodded her cooperation. Matt, surprisingly, looked relieved.

  ‘You’re making a big mistake,’ Alex eventually said.

  ‘Alex, please.’

  ‘What do you actually think will happen if you find him?’

  ‘We will do what we do.’ Matt shrugged.

  ‘Yeah, but the thing is, what you guys do doesn’t even equate to half of what he does.’

  ‘Shut this bitch up.’ One of the guys snarled. Alex looked at him and gave him a blood smeared smirk.

  ‘Scared?’

  ‘Enough!’ Matt shouted. ‘Jimmy, hand me a hammer.’

  Alex’s eyes widened with fear, as the black clad man known as Jimmy stormed across to one of the work benches and began shifting through the clutter. Moments later, he stepped towards his boss like an obedient dog returning a stick.

  He placed the hammer in Matt’s hand.

  Matt turned to Alex with a look of disappointment on his face.

  ‘This is really going to fucking hurt.’