Shattered (LOST #3)(90)

The knife sliced deeper.

“I’ve got her,” Carlos said into his phone. “I’ll leave her with you, and then I’m out. Got it? Whatever you’re doing, I don’t want to see that shit.”

He put the phone back down. She could feel his eyes on her. “I thought you were Jax’s friend,” Sarah said.

“No, you didn’t. Not really. That’s why you came to the bar tonight, all ready to rip into me. You thought I’d betrayed him. Well, guess what? I had.”

“He gave you the bar—”

“I don’t want to be second place to Jax Fontaine. He’s run this town too long. It’s time for some new blood to take over.”

He was still leaning in close. He didn’t have his seat belt on, and Sarah thought about wrecking the car. Just driving it straight into the nearest pole. He’d fly forward. Probably slam his head into the windshield. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about him but . . .

Emma could be hurt even worse. Dean loved Emma. So Sarah had to protect her. She kept driving.

“He went soft for you. Forgetting everything else, everything but you. I knew it was time then. Time to make my move. I’d held back, looking for this moment. Then when Mitch approached me, offering me cash if I just kept him in the loop about Jax’s comings and goings . . . how could I pass up that chance? I knew he wanted to take out Jax, and I thought, hell, yeah, and this way—”

“You thought you wouldn’t have to get your hands dirty.”

“If he hadn’t gone soft,” Carlos said, “then he would have seen the threat coming.”

“No, he just trusted you, and that’s why he never realized the danger was closing in.” But the danger had been there all along, and Carlos had set them up so perfectly—getting Sarah and Emma in the car with him. Insisting that he had to go along with them . . .

“You saved me before . . .” Sarah reminded him. “At the first fire, you saved me and Wade.” Now he was turning on them?

Carlos gave a bitter laugh. “Had to do it. Others were with me. Nate and George. They always looked out for Jax. Couldn’t turn with them there.”

So he’d played the hero? The friend?

“Not that they matter now, especially Nate.” His voice sharpened. “The dead don’t matter.”

“Were you ever his friend?” Sarah asked, needing desperately to break through to him.

“Just drive the damn car.”

“SARAH’S COMING. LOOKS like she found you, with a little help.” Mitch had left the knife sticking out of Jax’s arm. “Want to know who’s bringing her in to me? You’ll like this part. Ready? Carlos.”

The guy was lying. Carlos was as close to a brother as he’d ever had.

“Did you ever wonder why those men were beating the hell out of him in that alley? I did some checking. Turns out Carlos was in their gang. They’d made a heist and, during the middle of that robbery, Carlos had left two guys behind. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy that could be trusted.”

But Jax had trusted him. Carlos had been at his side for years—

“All it took was a little cash, and he told me everything he could about you.” Mitch sighed. “Of course, I did also have to promise to kill you so that Carlos could step out of your shadow. But I’d planned to do that anyway so it was all good for me.” Mitch yanked the knife out. Blood poured down Jax’s arm. He ignored the pain and kept pulling his wrists againsts the rope. All the blood had really slickened his hands.

He was almost free.

“He’s bringing Sarah to me, and I’ll start using my knife on her. How long do you think it will be before she starts to beg?”

SARAH BRAKED IN front of the house on Tibideaux Street. Emma was still out cold. “She needs a doctor,” Sarah said. She unhooked her seat belt, ignoring the sting of that blade, and she leaned over Emma as if she were reaching out to help her. But Sarah’s fingers slid toward the glove compartment. I’ve got to grab the gun—

Carlos rammed her head into the steering wheel. The horn sounded, a long, desperate cry.

“Crazy bitch. I saw you put the gun in there.” Then he was climbing out of the car and dragging Sarah with him. Blood trickled from her lip. “Now I need to drop your ass off and get the hell out of here.” He headed for the door. Kept his grip on her. His hand lifted, and he pounded, hard.

“He’ll kill you,” Sarah said. “Don’t you see? Mitch will . . . turn on you . . .”

“Nah. I’ve never done anything to him. I’m the one who helped him.” His head lowered toward her ear. “You’re the one he wants to cut into pieces. Turns out, your old man really screwed him over.”

The door opened. A tall, blond man was there. Had to be Mitch Fontaine. He was grinning at her. He yanked her from Carlos’s arms and—

Mitch drove his knife right into Carlos’s throat.

Carlos tried to cry out, but only a gurgle escaped him as he sagged to his knees, with the knife still lodged in him.

“Keep that one,” Mitch told him with a sneer. “I’ve got another knife. By the way, you aren’t getting paid.” He dragged Sarah fully into the house and slammed the old door shut behind him.

HE DIDN’T SEE Sarah. Murphy parked the car well down the overgrown road, not wanting the sound of his engine to alert the people who were waiting in the old house. He walked down that lane, keeping to the shadows.