by Stone, Piper
The request was simple, but she had no understanding of how difficult the answer would be. “My name is Erik Chenault or at least that was the name I was born with.”
“Is Blade for the scar or for your method of killing?”
I was almost shocked at her calm demeanor. I inadvertently touched the side of my face, trying not to remember the agony surrounding the incident. My entire face could have been a roadmap. “Method of killing.” The term had been given in honor by Diego himself, others in the organization understanding the meaning given I’d saved El Hefe’s life. Saying it now left bile in my throat.
“Hmmm... And I have no doubt you’re good at what you do.” She kept the stare before turning her attention toward Zorro, making cooing noises.
“I am leaving that life, Crystal, which now places both our lives in danger. Diego will hunt me and eventually, he will find his prey. My confession and the fact I left the lifestyle don’t take away what I’ve done. There is no forgiveness, no prayers.” I thought about Sandy’s comments before she walked away from my car. I could only hope she was still alive.
“And you’ll return to Erik. Maybe Erik the Slayer this time?” Her laughter was completely inappropriate. Zorro left my side, climbing beside her.
I hadn’t even thought about using my given name ever again and I shouldn’t if I wanted to keep breathing. Just another lie to add to the rest. “I don’t know who Erik is any longer.” I used to be a good kid. I made straight A’s and had a damn good life waiting for me after finishing college. Then all hell had broken loose.
Crystal breathed out and shook her head. “Of course you don’t, but the man I know isn’t a killer. He’s kind and caring.”
“No, you don’t understand. I am not a good person.”
“Fine, then just stop. If this is all an act, I don’t need your protection.” Her laugh was bitter.
“You should be afraid of me.” A portion of me wanted to tell her why, the entire damning story. Maybe to give my conscience peace.
“I said. Just. Stop!” She held out her hand in a stopping motion as she rubbed Zorro’s head with the other. “Just cut the crap, Blade or Erik or pick a name of the day. Here’s the irony. See, I ran away from a man similar in nature. He was the boss of a huge syndicate, although I didn’t know it when I first met him. Jericho or what his people called him, Deathwish was kind and giving at first, showering me with presents. Oh, my God. For a country bumpkin girl who moved to the bright lights and big city seeking fame and fortune, only to find minimum wage jobs, he was a Godsend at first. I craved the attention, had never really experienced anything like the level of power and authority covering him like an aura from the very heavens above. I fell into his web so easily. That’s how ridiculously naïve I was.” She paused as she climbed off the bed, inching closer, a wry smile on her face.
I was frozen, unable to move or think clearly. This couldn’t be happening.
“As with all good fairytales, the wicked witch rides up with her broom, stealing away happiness. You see, after Jericho knew he had me, he became abusive, treating me like his property.” Her laugh was bitter. “And yes, I thought I was in love with him. I kept trying to figure out a way to get through to him, to find some goodness. Shame on me. The man took away everything about the woman I’d become, breaking me down until I was almost nothing. I was required to follow his rules, including looking the other way at all times. Yeah, I know about cold-blooded killing.”
“Crystal. I’m so sorry. Men can be very convincing.” What had I done? How had this happened? Fuck me and all the bullshit that traveled with me, a noose that would eventually drag me into a cesspool of vermin. Karma was kicking me in the ass, but damn it, not at the expense of this amazing woman.
“Well, that’s what he said after every whipping. I laugh because I like a dominant man, one who will keep me in line. You figured that out minute one. I want to submit. I crave it so badly that when you offered every fantasy I ever had, I fell smack into a brand spanking new web. Is that sick or what?”
“That’s not sick. He’s the freak. Not you. Domination has nothing to do with violence or abuse. A woman submitting is a true gift of joy, love, and trust. Honor. You gave me the most incredible gift I’ve ever been given.” Tears formed in my eyes, burning. I didn’t deserve her.
Crystal dragged her tongue across the seam of her mouth. “You’re so right. Amazing how you can say that... Blade.”
I reached out, trying to take her hand, my mind rushing to method of crushing the fucking pig like a bug. I wanted him dead, beaten until... Jesus. I was no better.
She purposely stayed out of my reach. “Anyway, after almost two years, I couldn’t handle his particular brand of bullshit any longer. I promised the terrified little girl inside that I’d never find myself in that kind of ridiculous, horrible situation again, convincing her that I had to get out or die. So, I ran. I became someone else, but I will always be forced to look over my shoulders for fear that he’s found me. You speak of monsters. The man I was forced to endure was pure evil.” She bent down until her face was only inches away from mine. “And I will never. Do. That. Again.”
Hearing her story, grasping the understanding, I was shattered. Stars floated in front of my eyes as I attempted to rationalize how we’d managed to find each other, as if karma was playing a damning game.
Crystal was my obsession, a woman who could break the chains nearly suffocating me to death. But she would have no part of me, and just because of her own convictions. I couldn’t destroy her new life, the steps she’d taken to become whole again.
And in those few seconds as we connected in ways few others ever achieve, I realized that I’d fallen in love with her.
* * *
Love.
I’d actually thought about the word a hell of a lot during the last few hours as I stood glaring out the window, waiting, even hoping some asshole would try to hurt the woman I loved. Crazy shit. I couldn’t love her. No fucking way. Sighing, I took a quick look at my watch. I’d left her alone, hoping to God I’d be able to get back to her within no more than three hours.
I stood in the shadows directly across the street from Decker’s garage just watching the joint for a solid thirty minutes. While the bay doors were closed, I was able to see two vehicles on the racks even from where I was standing. The single window glowed with fluorescent lighting, indicating there was someone still in the place. The sun was barely cresting over the horizon, but I had a feeling Dwayne had worked on the Harley all night. I hoped that he did. If the kid I’d talked to the day before was on the Desperados’ payroll, a welcoming crew would be waiting with tire irons and pistols in just a couple of hours. Crystal and I would be far enough outside the city limits at that point.
If for some reason certain gang members were lying in wait, they wouldn’t get their chance. I had enough firepower on me to take on a solid half dozen, and you bet I fucking would. The incident the night before had left me in a nasty mood. The assholes should never have threatened a lady.
Adjusting my sunglasses, I finally crossed the street closer to the corner, trying not to allow thoughts regarding Crystal to devour my every thought. I’d allowed my guard to fall, physically and emotionally, making things for her undoubtedly worse. After our discussion, I knew she hated me, and she had every right, but she also had no choice in allowing me to serve as her protector.
Huffing, I moved to the alley, deciding to come in from the back. If the mechanic’s story was accurate, then word of some big, blond goon besting five of the Desperados would be all over. Add in the fact no one was hurt in the bomb attempt and the story would turn into some shitty kind of legend, just not one I wanted to be around. I’d caught just enough of the early morning news before leaving the motel to know the entire city was on edge. Evidently there’d been more than one bombing. However, that didn’t mean she wasn’t in imminent danger.
My real concern was how far the connection went. If Diego and this El Capitan were enemies, I m
ight be able to keep us both alive. But if an actual turf war was ready to begin, Diego could already be in the city lying in wait. Then I’d have a snowball’s chance in hell at protecting myself, let alone Crystal. I’d never been a betting man and I wasn’t going to start now. I preferred action. Time would tell.
Still, if I had to venture a guess, a turf war was ready to rear its ugly head, which would push Ricardo into rallying his soldiers as well as tamping down on his subjects. In other words, he’d require all the protected businesses to pay ahead of schedule. Cash was the great equalizer. Heroin was big business and the cartel with the biggest wad ruled the roost. I continued to find it difficult to believe that a basic gang would go head to head with someone as powerful as El Hefe.
The alley was full of reeking trash, dumped boxes, and rusting appliances but allowed for some cover as I made my way past a string of seedy businesses. There was no sign of the assholes from the bar or any other foot soldiers. I’d slipped the Browning in my waistband, ready for use if necessary. I had to get the Harley and break all ties to the city. I already had a lead on a safe house, a rather unconventional one, but my guess was hiding in plain sight was the way to go for at least a couple of days. Until I could find out what the hell was really going on.
My thoughts drifted to Crystal again. Hearing her story, the horrors she must have gone through continued to boil my blood. If I’d continued a bucket list of assholes I’d eliminate, this Jericho would be on the top of the list. Just hearing the details put far too many questions in my mind. How had she been able to submit so easily? To me.
To a monster.
I gave a quick scan of the area before moving any further. I was aching from guilt and even though I hadn’t forced her to do anything, my mind remained muddled. Having her submit on a regular basis was nothing more than a pipe dream, an incredible fantasy. She’d infused a portion of her own desire with mine, creating the kind of tethering few ever find.
Damn it. Even the scent of her lingered across portions of my naked skin, the taste of her sweet honey remaining in my mouth. As I moved closer to the back of the garage, a continuing thought flashed into my mind. I’d find out if there was a planned retaliation. If so, I’d use my skills to alleviate the problem. The he-man idea almost brought a belly laugh. I was no match for whatever was about to go down.
Inching to the very back, I noticed the single door was cracked open. My hackles were raised as I remained low to the ground, creeping closer until I could peer inside. There was no sign of anyone. Inhaling, I grabbed the gun, placing it in both hands before opening the door slowly and walking inside. The morning light added a gray haze over the equipment, but almost instantly I could see signs there’d been an altercation of some kind. Certain items were in disarray, wrenches and other implements on the ground. No good mechanic ever left his or her equipment this way. Noticing a string of drops, I sneered, my sixth sense taking over. Hunkering down, I swept my fingers through several drops, pulling my hand closer to my nose.
Blood.
While not a significant volume, there was enough to solidify my thoughts.
“What the fuck do you want? I gave you everything, you fuckin’ asshole!”
Jerking to my feet, I leveled the gun in the direction of the voice, hissing when I noticed the look of terror on Dwayne’s face. In his hand, he held what appeared to be a hunting knife, although his hand was shaking so badly I had difficulty discerning what kind. “Whoa, buddy. Relax. You okay?”
His swallow hard and loud, he nodded and closed his eyes before yanking a rag from his back pocket. “Damn fuckers. They waited until I was all alone to jump me. God damn them!”
I swung around in a complete circle, half expecting at least one of them would be waiting. “Are they gone?”
“Yeah, managed to grab my phone, act like I was calling the police and they ran off.” Dwayne wiped blood from his face before lowering the knife. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Come on, let’s get you inside the office.” I motioned toward his open door, scanning the entire premises before going inside. The safe door was wide open, and the small area had no contents. “Desperados?”
“Hell, I don’t even know. Different crew. I saw a few tats, but they didn’t act like the shit assholes I was used to.” Dwayne slammed his knife on the desk. “Demanded I pay them everything. Every dime. I was going to the freaking bank this morning. This entire street had no recourse against them. None. No amount of begging the police for help. No trying to band together. We’re worn out from these thugs. Now, they’re resorting to destroying businesses who won’t go along with their shit. Un-fucking-believable.”
“Yeah, I know. There needs to be a way to stop them.”
“Yeah, there does.” Dwayne laughed. “I’m sorry, man. Not trying to take this out on you. I’m just pissed. Think I’m packing up, selling the place and moving to Arizona. Anyway, I even kept the lights off in the office trying to make certain no one knew I was in here. Just wanted to get shit done. You know?”
“The bike.” Damn it. The man had almost gotten himself killed because of fixing the Harley.
He nodded. “I made a promise and I keep my promises, no matter what my wife might tell you. God rest her soul.” He patted his forehead again before clambering to sit in the chair, anger furrowing his face.
“Jesus Christ. It was just a bike. You didn’t have to almost get yourself killed to save her.”
“Save her?” Dwayne looked confused before grinning. “Son, I’m not a stupid man, at least most of the time. Follow me.” Lumbering forward, he took slow but steady steps as he walked out of the office and down a hallway, struggling as he started to move boxes.
“Let me give you a hand.” Within a few seconds I noticed another small doorway, strategically hidden by the cardboard. I couldn’t help but give the guy mental credit as he produced a set of keys, unlocking the door.
“Thank God I’d just finished her before the bastards showed up. Think that’s why they were able to get in without me knowing it. I was back here. Didn’t get a chance to wash her for ya, but she’s good as new.” He turned on a single light, the bare bulb swinging back and forth and the chain creaking as it swung.
I placed my hand on the seat, damn glad she was still in my possession. “I need to ask you some questions, Dwayne.”
“I figured that was comin’, son after the bomb last night. It was all over the news as well as social media. Christ. Some heavy crap. Don’t know what’s happening in this city.”
“My guess is you know more than you think you do.” I tried to sound as casual as possible, but given personal attacks had already started, time was running out.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I need you to tell me everything you know about this buddy of yours who went out on a date with Crystal Cummings.” As I walked closer, crowding his space I could see a change in his good guy demeanor. There was always a story behind kind eyes and a winning smile.
* * *
Crystal
I am a murderer.
The words lingered in my mind, creating a backdrop of hatred, anger, terror, and... I slapped my hand against the shower wall, taking several deep breaths in an effort to keep from crying. Again. A cold chill shivered down my spine, even though I had the water to near scalding hot. Nothing was going to warm portions of me, no kind words or fluffy blankets, no extreme heat or even my furry baby, who’d tried twice to climb into the shower with me. He knew exactly how upset I was, how difficult facing the day in any regard seemed to be.
I’d told Blade what I longed for, allowing him to see the sick fuck I’d become. I couldn’t stand myself any longer. He didn’t admonish. He didn’t try to hurt me. I noticed his tears.
Blade. Blade. “Blade.”
I want you. I need you. I crave every ounce of your control.
I hate you...
Just saying his name out loud, whether nickname or a method of killing, only had the effect of making me ov
ertly nauseous, creating bile pumping up from my nervous stomach. At least the man had admitted his true identity, something Jericho would never have done initially. Laughter bubbled up and I turned until the water splashed over my head. I hadn’t slept, although I’d certainly pretended to be sleeping, too weak and sick at heart to face anything he’d told me. He’d never left the room, never changed positions. He’d spent the remainder of the night watching and waiting for the very human monsters to burst in.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
What the hell had I done in my life to deserve this?
Stop. You have to stop. There was no time for feeling sorry for myself or second-guessing anything I’d done with Blade. Our attraction was only physical. I could curtail every bit of my emotions. I was a strong woman and no man of any kind was going to get under my skin.
Why was I doubting my resolve? Because the connection we shared was something special.
At least the morning had dawned peacefully, with few words said. I’d heard the news report, even though I’d tried to ignore it. I wasn’t the only target. Hell, I was no longer certain if I was even the actual target or just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Who the hell knew? Blade had issued his single command then left, leaving me to lock the door behind him.
“Stay behind this locked door and do not open to anyone, including the maid. I’m finding a safe house, which will allow me to develop a plan.”
God damn, the man was so possessive, as if I would instantly say yes to whatever his intended plan turned out to be. I wasn’t entirely certain where he thought he was going to find a safe house. In town? In another state? Maybe he had more connections than he would ever admit. Yes, I knew a hell of a lot about running, but not from his methodology. For some reason, I realized exactly what he had in mind—eliminating the problem. He’d certainly never tell me any of the gory details, but he didn’t have to. I already envisioned them in my mind given my past history. I’d discovered various photographed sights I wasn’t supposed to see when I’d been with Jericho. I’d been able to figure out his passwords on the asshole’s computer, leading me to hidden files depicting horrific acts, as if capturing his methods of retaliation was scripted for a glorious viewing event later with the ‘boys.’
