Mr. Dark 2 (Tamed #2)(10)

Chapter 7

Sophie

We drove for four hours, until nearly midnight. We had taken the Interstate for most of the trip, stopping for gas once while Mark grabbed some snacks for us from the convenience store. While we munched on Fritos, he filled me in on his plan. "Ever since the first hit, I knew I didn't want to be stuck doing this my entire life. I met too many lifelong criminals in the years I worked for Sal and the Confederation, burned out by paranoia, and turning to drugs or other crutches to try and get through to the next day. So I started saving, and learning how to invest my money. I used a lot of shell corporations and dummy names, stuff I picked up from the same criminals I worked for. I took my laptop with me, it's in the back of the truck, although I plan on chucking it in a fire as soon as we can, just in case. I have a backup system anyway, one the Confederation can't track."

"Just how much money are we talking, anyway? I'm not trying to be a gold digger, but I am curious."

Mark thought for a second, then shrugged. "Well, there's a lot of things I'll have to give up in the city, stuff I bought under the alias I used for my condo. That kind of sucks, since that was a lot of my real estate investments. But my cash assets, my stocks, and my other investments I made under other names. I can't give you an exact amount, but I'd say if I liquidated everything that I could currently liquidate safely.... I'd have access to over a hundred and fifty million dollars."

I blinked, sure he had said something wrong. "A hundred and fifty million? That sounds like baseball player money."

Mark laughed and passed a minivan that was traveling fifty miles an hour on the highway. "Yeah, I guess so. Although most of it is locked up in investment vehicles that I specifically set up for long term usage, so the real value is higher. I mean, liquidating my gold assets and my mortgage securities would totally hose me on fees, and with the way the market is now I'd get soaked on my Asian investments too."

"Is that what you did with your spare time?" I asked, taking another few Fritos and chewing on them. The greasy corn flavor was a reminder of my childhood, as my grandfather loved the things, especially covered in chili con carne with cheese. "Become a business mogul?"

"I've tried to learn a lot of things," Mark replied without arrogance. "When you said that you thought I had an MBA, it really touched me. Most of the people I worked with, they wouldn't have noticed. They talk about my shooting skills, or my fighting skills, and lots of comments that I would never repeat to you that makes your average frat house sound like a highly cultured debate society. I hope I treat you better than how they treated the women in their lives."

I thought about it for a moment, then crunched on a few more Fritos. "You already are," I said, reaching over and squeezing his thigh. "Too many men would have continued to lie and try and bullshit me. You told me the truth. One question though. If Lefort hadn't shown up at your door this morning, would you have told me eventually?"

"Eventually," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. "Actually, I don't know. I do know I was looking at getting out of the business anyway. I've made enough money, and I never did like it. It was just something I'm good at, I guess."

"Do you feel the need to kill?" I asked, looking over at him.

Mark smiled and shook his head. "No. While all of the men I've killed have been scum, I've lost sleep over them every time. I did it because I had to, at first to get out of the situation my father put us in, then later to get out of the situation I was in. You coming along was just the final little push I needed."

I wasn't sure if Mark was telling the total truth, and I looked in his direction. "Since we've met, tell me every job you've done over the past month."

Mark nodded and his face grew grim as his mind went back. "The night we met, I killed a Russian loan shark, Karl Vaslov. He went into business for himself, and the Confederation found out about it. He started trying to use his financial backing to expand into other fields, specifically the vice and drug trades. The next job I did for pay was an assault on a mixed martial arts fighter, spraining his left knee so that his opponent would have an advantage for their upcoming fight. I did two industrial espionage jobs, simple breaking and entering and getting files out of computers. The only unpaid criminal act I did was against Glen Green. I visited his house the night after we met. Other than a black eye, I didn't hurt him, but I did threaten him."

I nodded, not too surprised. "I'd wondered what happened to Green. He wouldn't tell anyone."

"Well, that's another way I got myself in trouble," Mark replied. "What I didn't know is that Glen Green was a frat brother with Owen Lynch. It was just one of the reasons that Owen wanted to use you to get to me."

Mark pulled off the Interstate, working his way along the minor roads. We drove for about another ten minutes before he pulled into a small motel, far away from the highway. "It's no luxury hotel, but it's safe, and they take cash," Mark explained as he shut off the engine. "It's one of four reservations I made this afternoon under false names from a burner phone. By the way, do you still have your cell phone?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling it out. "Do I need to get rid of it?"

"No, but shut it off and take out the battery for now," Mark explained. "Are there any very important numbers you have on there?"