The Arrangement 17 Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Author's Note

  - Chapter 1

  - Chapter 2

  - Chapter 3

  - Chapter 4

  - Chapter 5

  - Chapter 6

  - Chapter 7

  - Chapter 8

  - Chapter 9

  - Chapter 10

  - Chapter 11

  - Chapter 12

  - Chapter 13

  - Chapter 14

  - Chapter 15

  - Chapter 16

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  The Arrangement 17

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  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by H.M. Ward

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

  H.M. WARD PRESS

  First Edition: November 2014

  ISBN: 9781630350499

  The Arrangement 17

  Dear Reader,

  The Arrangement Series is different. How? The story is organic and swiftly growing. Originally intended to be four serial novels, fans of the series demanded more Sean & Avery, spurring an entirely new concept: a fan-driven series. When fans ask for more, I write more.

  I am astonished and humbled by the response this series has received. As the series grows, I am constantly fascinated by the requests and insights from readers. This series has sold over 4 MILLION copies! The average length of each book is 125 pages in paperback and can be read in a few hours or less.

  This series intertwines with my other work, but is designed to be read independently, as a quick read between other titles. You can join in the discussion via my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/AuthorHMWard. For a complete listing of Ferro books, look here: www.SexyAwesomeBooks.com & click BOOKS.

  Thank you and happy reading!

  ~Holly

  Chapter 1

  Hearts pounding, Peter and I drive through the grounds of the formerly world famous Oak Beach Inn. Once upon a time, the elite of New York City would gather here each weekend and party until sunrise in the old mansion built right on the waterfront. It was a great spot back in the day, but over time it suffered enough neglect that it finally closed—despite the best efforts of historic preservationists. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t save the OBI. Shortly after closing, most of the mansion burned in a fire. Add in a hurricane that ate half the coastline, and now it has the solemn feel of a graveyard. No one dances here anymore. There’s no laughter or smiles, just cold damp fear.

  Peter’s body tenses in the driver’s seat. His hand moves to open his door and get out with me, but I reach over him and put my hand over his. Gently, I move his hand off of the door handle and back to the steering wheel.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” I say firmly. “I have no idea what he’ll do to me or to Sean if you linger. Go.”

  “Avery, this guy is unstable. He could kill you.”

  “He won’t.” Peter looks at me like I’m mental, but it’s a feeling I’ve had deep in my gut since I saw Marty shoot Sean. The blaring music and the flashing lights nearly blinded me on stage, but I know I saw him there. “Peter, please trust me. Marty had so many chances to hurt me already. He would have killed me by now if that was his plan.”

  Peter grips the wheel hard enough to make his knuckles turn white and stares at his fingers. Inhaling deeply, he shifts his blue gaze to the side, his eyes searching mine. “I do trust you. It’s him I don’t trust—he’s off. There’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me. Add in the shit with Sean, and I think you going in there is a bad move.” His eyes are soulful as he speaks, as if he’s pleading with me to reconsider.

  He’s right, of course, but there isn’t another way. “Peter, the thing is, my life is so messed up right now I can’t go anywhere without someone threatening to hurt me. I know you mean well, but I have to do this. I’ll get Sean back.”

  Peter looks as if he wants to argue, but begrudgingly stays seated. He mashes his lips together, swallows some words he decides not to say, and sighs deeply. His shoulders slump a little and I know he won’t fight me anymore. I’m not entirely sure how he talked me into letting him drive me out here in the first place. He’s sneaky like his brother, but he cares about me and he cares about Sean—that much I know.

  Peter runs his hands through his hair and glances over at me from behind the steering wheel. “Mel will come for you if you’re not back in this spot in an hour. That woman scares the hell out of me. I’m sure she’ll kill Marty if he hurts you, and she’ll have fun doing it. By the way, why are all your closest friends mental?”

  Mel is a handful and has had a hard life. She knows how to take care of herself, but I don’t think she’s killed anyone. People still think she’s responsible for the dead hooker in Sean’s hotel room, but I know it wasn’t her. Once she knows a person, and likes them, Mel drops her guard. The sad part is there are very few people she can relax around, so they only know the version of Mel that’s a little rough around the edges.

  I bump Peter with my shoulder and wave my finger at him while speaking, trying not to smile. “Come on Mr. Poet, you already know the answer to that. Friends are a reflection of oneself. You might want to reconsider that thing you’ve got going on with Mr. Turkey.”

  Peter laughs. “Better go over to the tall dark grass now before the crazy guy comes looking for you.” I squeeze his hand and hop out of his sleek black car, slamming the door behind me. Peter puts down the passenger window and leans across the seat. “Be careful.” His eyes are locked on mine, and we both jump, startled, when a voice comes from the shadows behind me.

  “Oh, she will be.” Marty steps out from the shadows and lunges at me. He completely ignores Peter, who is swearing and kicking his door open, ready to follow us.In an instant, I feel myself being carried away from the car and into the darkness. His hand is over my mouth, stifling my scream.

  Chapter 2

  I bite down on the flesh of Marty’s palm and he releases me, spewing curses while he does it. Stomping my foot down hard, I crush his toes. He’s wearing velvet lounge slippers, and wails like a baby. I don’t have time to wonder why he’s dressed for bed—Marty always dresses weird. When we first met, I thought it was because he was gay. The asshole used my assumption to get close to me. Repressed anger rears its head from deep within me.

  Marty shot Sean.

  Growling wildly, I round on him, ready to fight. I want my fists in his face. I want to hear his nose crunch and cause him as much pain as he caused Sean.

  Just before my knee lifts to hit him in the tenders, he grabs my shoulders and leans in. “Stop.”

  It’s one word, one request that changes everything. If I wander off with him, things could get worse. I pause for a second, waiting for him to say something else or fight back, but he doesn’t.

  Peter remains by his car, silently watching, his eyes narrowed into slits. His body is poised and prepared, ready to run over and save me. I can’t let him do that. I have to find out where Marty took Sean and this is the
only way. I shake my head at Peter, warning him to stay there. He flinches and grits his teeth, but he doesn’t move any further toward us.

  Lifting my hand in a gesture of peace, I nod at Marty. “Take me to Sean.”

  Marty shakes his head and looks from me to Peter’s car. “You know, I can’t fucking believe this, Avery. I told you to come alone. You deliberately disobeyed my request and came with not just anyone, but one of the Ferro brothers. Then you break my foot instead of saying hello.” He mutters to himself for a moment, and then glances at the car, agitated. “Tell Ferro to take a hike or you won’t like how this goes.”

  Marty’s hair is a mess and he’s wearing rich guy pajamas. He reminds me of a young Hugh Hefner, wearing a velvet robe and tasseled belt. How has no one noticed him, dressed like that? The police must be blind not to notice this guy. He’s on the beach, in velvet slippers, with no car. Where’s a state trooper when you need one? I glance up and down the road, but it’s empty.

  Heart hammering, I ask, “Where are we going?”

  “Stop asking questions and do as I say, or you’ll never see Sean again.” He hooks an arm around my waist and glares at Peter. “Your choice, Avery. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  My entire body is shaking. It’s beyond a minor tremble and I hate it for betraying me. Marty laughs lightly, shaking his head. “You finally figured out you should be afraid of me? It fucking took long enough.”

  Marty yanks his arm, pulling my back to his front. I feel something hard and round pressed against my spine. He shouts to Peter, “Get out of here, unless you want me to put a bullet in her back. I’m guessing the Ferro clan doesn’t want another dead woman on their hands.”

  Peter yells back, “No one would think I killed her.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure. Once a Ferro, always a Ferro, isn’t that right Pete?” The use of his old name makes Peter’s shoulders stiffen and I wonder what secrets he’s hiding. The principal with the turkey vulture and the sweet girlfriend is the Peter I know, but Marty knows something more—something dark.

  Peter turns his eyes toward me. “One hour. That’s it. Then Mel comes for you—fuck that, I’ll come for you—and I guarantee you won’t like it.” Peter’s voice is low and lethal. For the first time, I see a strong resemblance to Sean. The look he gives Marty promises pain.

  “Drive away, Pete. She’ll be right here an hour from now.” Marty holds me tight, pinning me against the barrel of his gun.

  “Go, it’s all right.” I mean to sound confident, but my voice is shaking.

  Peter swears, jumps back in his car, and peels out, leaving me alone with Marty. I watch his taillights shrink to nothing as his black car is swallowed by the night.

  Chapter 3

  Marty inhales deeply and removes the gun from my back. There are too many emotions going through me at the moment to nail one down, so they all come flying out. The second the gun is down, I round on him and knee his nuts. Marty yelps and bends forward. My knee comes up again and connects with his nose. Meanwhile my hands ball into fists, hitting him every chance I get. I’m screaming at him, bellowing, “How could you?”

  His betrayal snakes around my throat and tightens until I can’t stand it. I lash out at him with renewed energy, hitting him over and over.

  Marty shrieks, “Holy fuck, Avery! Cut it out! Stop or I’ll make you stop.”

  Rage takes over my body and my brain struggles to keep up. My body continues to tremble, but not from fear. “Bullshit! That’s what this is! That’s what you are! You don’t even have him, do you? This was just another invention to get me naked or some other stupid shit. I hate you! I hate you, Marty!”

  I grab both sides of his head by his ears and tug, hard. Shocked, his face comes flying toward mine and I head-butt him. We collide with a loud thunk. Marty swears, nearly falling over. Since I’m not a ninja, the momentum knocks me on my ass, my head throbbing in pain. I touch my forehead and feel warm blood on my fingers. Rage flashes across my face—I can’t hide it. I jump and lunge at him, screaming while I do so.

  “I trusted you, you bastard!”

  “Fine, the hard way it is.” Marty reaches for me as I rush at him. He catches me by the shoulders and the momentum of being jerked to a stop makes my feet go flying. I land on my back and let out an oof sound. I barely have time to catch my breath before Marty covers my face with a white cloth. I try not to breathe, but I can’t hold my breath. When I finally suck in air, it tastes too sweet and burns my throat. Marty pins me to the ground, as I claw at his hands, trying to get the cloth off my face. It’s poisoned. No, it’s not—oh no. My head feels light and I start blinking. My body goes limp and before I can figure out why, I lose control of my hands and they flop to the pavement. I stare up at the inky sky with its spattering of stars, watching Marty remove the cloth.

  As he pulls it away and my eyes flutter shut, I notice two letters on the handkerchief.

  S. F.

  The world fades to black.

  Chapter 4

  My head is screaming when I start to regain consciousness. It feels like it’s made of lead and possibly in a vice. It seems a great deal fatter than normal, or maybe it just feels that way. I try to open my eyes but they’re too heavy. I try again, but still no results. Sound begins to penetrate the fog surrounding me. I lie still and listen to two voices arguing heatedly in hushed tones.

  “…then we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

  “If you hadn’t interfered, none of this would have happened, Ferro. This is your fault. You think I wanted to do this to her? She’s insane when she’s mad. You know that.”

  “I told you to do it first thing, not to wait and talk to her. You jeopardized the whole operation, and risked Pete finding out. You’re a sorry excuse for a—”

  My eyes flutter open involuntarily and Marty talks over him, “Shut it, dipshit. She’s awake and as soon as that headache passes, she’s going to bolt. Stop wasting time and start talking.” Marty is watching me with a softened expression on his face, which confuses the crap out of me. Hell, this whole scene confuses the crap out of me.

  I blink and try to push up. Sean rushes to my side and puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. As his fingers clutch my shoulders, his voice softens a little. “It’s too soon. Wait or you’ll be sick.”

  “You’re here.” I smile at him. He’s safe. “You’re all right.” Marty didn’t hurt him. In fact, he seems better than the last time I saw him. He was hurt, recovering from a bullet wound. Leaning over me like that should make him hurt. Sean should be groaning from pain, but he’s not.

  Something is off. Even sedated, I can feel it. I sense it, but I still can’t figure out what’s going on. Add in what I just heard and my eyes widen. Sean Ferro, the initials.

  My heart twists. “Marty had your handkerchief, didn’t he?”

  The two letters come back into focus in my mind, the ramifications quickly follow, snapping into place. If the handkerchief was Sean’s, then based on what I just heard, Sean and Marty are… I shiver. “Oh, my God, Sean! You told Marty to drug me, didn’t you? I heard you say it—he was supposed to drug me. Marty tried to talk me into following him first.”

  Sean’s emotional mask juts up and snaps firmly in place. He shows no remorse, no affection. It’s like he hasn’t changed at all and there’s a man I don’t know standing in front of me. “I did what I had to do. It was for your own good. If you were found with Marty—able to get away, but not trying—it would look wrong. They’d think you were helping him.”

  Outraged, I yell, “Helping him do what, exactly? Shoot you? Kidnap you? Bury you in a freakin’ sand dune?” I scream the last part and wish I hadn’t. My head throbs so badly, it feels like there’s a steel bar vibrating in my brain. I grab my head and shut my eyes.

  Clutching my temples, I growl, “Where are we?”

  Sean sits by my side as Marty paces behind me. We’re in an old house and I can hear the water lapping against the shore, which m
eans we are very close to the ocean. The house is dark, save the glow of a dim light they’ve put in the fireplace.

  “Oak Island. This house is owned by, well it’s, uh—” Sean looks up at Marty. Still lying on my back, I look up at him expectantly.

  “I own it.” Marty moves across the dark room and sits across from me on an old velvet chair that’s seen better days. He rests his elbows on his knees, leans forward, and clasps his hands together. His mop of hair falls over his eyes, hiding the cut I gave him earlier. He glares at the tattered Persian rug on the floor and growls, “Just say it Sean, or I will.”

  But Sean doesn’t speak and neither does Marty. For a moment, the only sound I can hear is the roar of the ocean. Rain begins to bounce eerily off the dark windowpanes.

  I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel it—things aren’t right. Something is off. Annoyed with both of them, I snap, “What’s going on? Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t seem like you’re being held hostage, Sean.”

  Sean slips off the couch and kneels in front of me, taking both of my hands. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” His dark hair is a tousled mess, like he’s been riding his motorcycle without his helmet. There’s a cut on his cheek, and three-day-old scruff on his face. Dark circles line his eyes, as if he hasn’t slept since he last shaved.

  “To you, maybe.” Head still swimming, I’m too woozy to yell. As the room wobbles, I remember Sean is the one who did this to me. Maybe it wasn’t his hand, but it was his idea. That means Sean and Marty are in this together, although I can’t see how. “This makes no sense! Why is Marty here? He tried to kill you and now you’re just hanging out together in a beach house?” I’m yelling again and trying to sit up.