Liam

by James, Nicole

  “Well, at least take a look.”

  Velvet picked up the folded item on top and held it up. It was a long pretty floral sundress. It probably was to Malee’s ankles, but it only came to just below Velvet’s knees. She slipped it over her head. It fit her chest and waist and hips and hung in a loose flowing style. “How does it look?”

  “Beautiful,” Liam said, his eyes moving over her and stopping on her chest. “You look good braless.”

  “I have a bra. It got shoved in with the sleeping bag when we were in such a hurry to leave.”

  “Yeah, I may have to hide all your bras.”

  “Liam!”

  “I liked seeing you wearing my flannel shirt this morning, too.”

  “I liked wearing it.” She picked it up off the bathroom floor. “After we wash it, I might just steal it from you.”

  “What’s mine is yours, sweetheart.”

  A few minutes later they gathered around the big round oak table in the kitchen. Mrs. Larsen had a plate of bacon set in the middle next to the cinnamon rolls, and she was making her way around, spooning up helpings of scrambled eggs on each plate.

  Liam sat next to Velvet. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

  Max and Malee sat across from them, Malee with her obvious baby bump.

  “Where’s my little nephew?” Liam asked.

  “The school bus picked him up while you were in the shower,” Max said.

  Liam made the introductions. “Velvet, this is my brother’s wife, Malee.”

  She extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I hope we’re not inconveniencing you by dropping by like this so early.”

  Malee smiled. “Not at all. You are most welcome.”

  “When is your baby due?”

  “In eight weeks.” Malee dropped a hand to her belly.

  “You must be so excited.”

  “Yes. And ready for her to be here.”

  “It’s a girl?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you have a name picked out?”

  Malee looked up at her husband. Max answered for her. “We haven’t decided yet.”

  “Yes, we have,” she insisted.

  “We’re down to two options.”

  Malee rolled her eyes. “We’ve decided.”

  “We’ve decided not to share it until the big day.”

  “Well, I’m sure she’ll be beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, you two seem to be getting along great from the sounds of it,” Max commented.

  “From the sounds of it?” Liam asked, biting into a gooey roll.

  “Thin walls, bro.”

  Velvet covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Max.” Liam gave him a look as he licked the icing from his thumb.

  “She’s gonna be a part of this family, she’s gonna have to get used to the teasing. Besides, I get the feeling she’s a tough one.”

  “I can handle it.” Velvet lifted her chin.

  Max grabbed the plate of bacon and dropped a couple pieces on Velvet’s plate. “By the way, I’m sorry for the way I acted that day you came to the shop.”

  “I understand.”

  Liam frowned. “Wait, what? When was this? How’d you act?”

  “The day she came and gave Jameson that check. I was kind of a dick to her.” He glared at Liam. “On your behalf, of course.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “I just told her she had no business there, and she should go.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Then Ava told me to sit down and shut up.”

  Liam grinned, his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. “She’s a wise woman.”

  Max winked at Velvet. “That she is. She was the only one of us who gave Velvet the benefit of the doubt straight off the bat.”

  They ate quickly and said their goodbyes, making excuses that Velvet had an appointment. Fifteen minutes later, Liam was cruising slowly past the front of House of Ink. He turned the corner, and they rolled down a side street. He peered down the alley that ran behind the businesses but saw no cars this early, just a garbage truck down on the end.

  He looked over at Velvet craning her neck to see out the back window. “What do you think?”

  “Let’s try it.”

  Liam cut the wheel and made a U-turn. He pulled to the curb on the side street and jammed the gearshift in park. He studied Velvet. “You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have a key?”

  She nodded. “I swiped one off Vano’s key chain the morning I met the FBI agent. By now he probably figures I have it.”

  “Then let’s be quick.”

  They jogged to the back of the business, and Liam kept an eye out while Velvet unlocked the heavy metal door. They weren’t two feet inside, the door shutting behind them, when a beeping sound went off. Liam’s eyes hit a security panel on the wall. “Shit, babe. You know the code?”

  “Fuck. No.”

  “What would be easy for him to remember?”

  “His birthday, maybe.”

  “Try it, quick. We’ve only got about thirty seconds.”

  She punched it in, but the screen still flashed red. “Shit.”

  “Anything else you can try?”

  She bit her lip. “Wait.” She punched in another number and the screen turned green.

  “Bingo.”

  “What’d you use?”

  “My mother’s birthday.”

  “He a momma’s boy, huh?” Liam asked.

  “Totally.”

  Liam pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “Good thinking, babe. Let’s get to work.”

  “His office is in here.” She led him down the hall to the first door on the right and fumbled with the lock. It opened, and Liam flipped the light on. The desk was a mess with an overflowing ashtray, bottles of ink, rubbing alcohol, used cotton wipes, an ear piercing gun that looked like someone was in the process of cleaning, old tattoo magazines, manila files piled haphazardly, and papers scattered.

  His eyes moved around the room, landing on the small safe on the floor behind the desk. “You know the combination?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t get in the safe.”

  “You sure? You did so well with the security system.”

  She smirked at him, and he grinned back.

  “You check the desk, I’ll go through this file cabinet,” Velvet said.

  “Doesn’t look like he uses it much,” Liam joked, eyeing the mess on the desk.

  She rolled her eyes.

  Liam pushed aside a stack and pulled out the new issue of Inked Up, the one with them on the cover. “Velvet.”

  She looked over. He held it up. Her mouth dropped open, and she took it, staring down at the cover. “Oh my God.”

  “Pretty awesome, right?”

  She thumbed through it, taking in the photographs of the article. “They’re good.”

  Liam took the magazine from her. “They’re more than good. But wait, there’s more.” He flipped to the article on her and watched her reaction as she saw the black and white picture of herself and the article banner. Her eyes moved along the words.

  “What does it say?”

  He told her and watched her eyes fill. “It’s a good story, baby. Don’t cry.”

  She flipped it closed and nodded, then frowned. “How does Vano have this?”

  “Good question.”

  “He must have taken it from my mail.”

  “He’s probably been looking for you, and his key, I’m guessing. He’s probably searched your room.”

  “How do you think those two goons found us?”

  Liam shook his head. “No clue. You think they put a tracker on you? Because if they’d followed us, I don’t think they would have waited until morning.”

  “A tracking device? That’s creepy.” She frowned. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I wonder if the FBI has one on me.”


  Liam’s jaw tightened at the thought. “Let’s get to work. I don’t want to be here long.”

  She nodded and moved to the file cabinet. Liam scanned the folders, finding the usual stuff, print outs of payroll, electric bills, phone bills. He found one buried at the bottom, labeled Advertising. He thought that was strange since he knew they did no advertising, at least he’d never seen any in the time the place had existed. He flipped it open. It was a single page with a list of acronyms in a column and a large number next to each. BOC, CBOC, CB&T. And then they all clicked into place. These were banks: Bank of Colorado, Community Bank of Colorado, Colorado Bank & Trust. He scanned the numbers next to each. They didn’t look like account numbers, they looked like amounts with commas. “Jesus Christ.”

  “What?” Velvet glanced up.

  He showed her the list. “I think those are the amounts he has in each bank.”

  She skimmed the page. “Shit, that’s a lot of money. No way he got all that from a phone scam.”

  “You sure?”

  “There’s no way. Not unless he had a room full of people working for him full time.” She closed the file drawer. “There’s nothing in this cabinet.”

  “Keep looking.”

  Her eyes scanned the room. “Wait. What’s that?”

  Liam twisted to look. There was a small duffle bag on the floor behind the desk with a coat half thrown over it. She squatted down and unzipped it. They both stared down at three plastic wrapped bricks of what looked like brown sugar. Their eyes met and Liam said, “I’m guessing that’s heroin. I think you’d better call your friend at the FBI.”

  Velvet’s eyes widened and flashed over his shoulder. That was the last thing he saw as his head exploded in pain, and he crumpled to the floor.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Velvet screamed and clutched Liam to her as she stared up at Vano. He had a gun pointed right at her face. “What are you doing, Vano?!”

  “I should be asking you that, Vee. I heard what he said. You were going to call your friend at the FBI. Since when do you have friends at the FBI, Vee? Huh? And where the hell have you been? Skin and Weasel went out looking for you. Did they find you?”

  She stayed quiet, not wanting to answer any of those questions. She clutched Liam and ran her hand over his head. There was a lump forming on the back of his skull, but she didn’t feel any blood. Still, he could have a serious concussion, and it worried her that he still hadn’t come around. “Liam? Liam, please wake up.”

  “Liam, Liam wake up,” Vano parodied her attempts. “You sound like a love-sick kid, like you did back in Indiana that summer.”

  “Shut up, Vano! I found the drugs! I know what you’ve been up to with Skin and Weasel! You’re dealing aren’t you?”

  “What I do with Skin and Weasel ain’t none of your business, and if you know what’s good for you, you better keep your fucking mouth shut! And what’s this shit about calling the FBI? I hope that was a joke, Vee. Because Skin will kill you, deader than a doornail if you even say that shit.”

  Velvet studied her brother. He looked disheveled and sweat was pouring down his face. His skin was sallow, and his hair was greasy. She’d never seen him like this before. Vano was always concerned about his appearance. He was always well dressed, and he took extra care with his hair, even using hairspray and products on it. He liked to consider himself a real ladies man, a player, but now he just looked like a two-bit tweeker. “Are you using, Vano?”

  He jammed a cigarette in his mouth and flicked a lighter open, dipping to light up.

  Her eyes dropped to the gun he still held in his right hand. Would he use that on her? Would he really shoot his own sister over drug money? She glanced down in the duffle. It was a lot of drugs, and there was a lot of money in those accounts. So, yeah, he probably would shoot her.

  He took a deep drag. “It’s none of your business what I do, just like it hasn’t seemed to be your concern what happens with Ma. You’ve never loved her, have you?”

  His sudden change in topic had her reeling. He had to be using. He was jittery, and his eyes darted around like he was paranoid.

  He pointed the gun at her again. “Who were you gonna call, Vee, huh? Tell me!”

  “I wasn’t going to call anyone, I swear.” Looking down the barrel of a gun was terrifying—just as scary as staring at that mountain lion about to pounce. “You have to believe me.”

  “I don’t have to do shit.” The barrel shifted aim to Liam’s back. “And what’s that motherfucker doing here? He’s got no business in my shop, Vee! You fucking him now? Skin’s not gonna be too happy about that. He wants you, you know that? He plans to have you, and I won’t be able to stop him.” He was rambling again, and he began pacing, sucking on that cigarette.

  “Vano, please. Just let us leave.”

  He whirled on her. “I can’t let you leave. Don’t you see? Skin will be back soon.”

  Velvet swallowed, and her eyes shifted to the door. She wondered if she should tell him that Skin was dead. Would he believe her? Would he be angry? “Vano, please, put down the gun and let’s talk.”

  “Talk? You want to talk? About what? About what a lousy sister you’ve been, about how I’ve had to take care of mom all these years, about how you abandoned us? What do you want to talk about, Vee?” he screamed.

  “We can talk about all of that. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Vano. Just…put the gun down. I’m your sister; you don’t need the gun to make me do anything. Please, Vano.”

  “Yeah, I do, Vee. You think you’re so smart. You think you got this all figured out.” He made a swirling motion with the gun. “You’ve got nothin’ figured out. You don’t know shit about me and what I’ve had to deal with. You think prison was easy? I did what I did because that’s the way I was raised. Pops raised me to be the man of the family. When he died, that’s what I did.” He slammed his palm on his chest. “You’re the one who didn’t do what she was supposed to!” There were tears in his eyes now.

  “I’m sorry, Vano.”

  He whirled and pointed the gun at her. “No you’re not! You’re not, Vee! You have never been sorry! But you’re gonna be. Get up!”

  “What?” Her arms tightened around Liam.

  “Let go of him and get up!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done a long time ago.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her across the linoleum, dragging her out of the office and into the tiny bathroom. He yanked her to the sink that jutted from the wall and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pants pocket. Before she realized what he was going to do, he had her cuffed to the big curving pipe under the sink.

  She tugged on her arm. “Goddamn it, Vano, let me go!”

  He backed away. “Who’s the smart one now, Vee?” He disappeared into his office where Liam was passed out, and she began to panic. Would he shoot him? She was terrified she’d hear the sound of a gunshot any moment. “Please, Vano, don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him!”

  He came back in the doorway and pointed the gun at her. “You keep you’re mouth shut or I will.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I swear. Just please don’t hurt him.”

  “What do you care? You care more about that son-of-a-bitch from Brothers Ink than you do about your own family? Huh? He’s my fucking competition. He’s the enemy!”

  “No, Vano, he’s not your enemy. Please, just listen to me. You need to calm down. You’re not thinking clearly.”

  He took another hit off his cigarette. “I’m thinking clearly, and I know exactly what I need to do.

  He moved into the other room.

  There was the sound of the metal against wood, desk across floor, and other sounds like maybe he was dragging Liam. She strained to hear. There was the sound of a drawer opening and closing and then the sound of another set of handcuffs closing around something. She couldn’t imagine what he’d handcuffed Liam to.

  “Vano! What are you doing? Just let us go,
please.”

  Velvet suddenly remembered her cell phone in the pocket of the sundress. She pulled it out and opened the voice memo app, then set it on the floor beside her hip out of Vano’s sight. Maybe she could get a recording of him confessing and give it to Sanders. Then this nightmare would all be over. “Vano?”

  He reappeared in the doorway and ran a hand through his hair. He was breathing hard. Apparently dragging Liam around was hard work. She noticed the cigarette was gone from his hand. In its place was the duffle bag. It looked fuller now, like maybe he’d taken stacks of cash from the safe and stuffed them inside. She met his eyes. “I know about the scam you were running.”

  “What scam? You don’t know shit.”

  “Yes, I do. I overheard Skin and Weasel making the calls.”

  “When?”

  “A while ago.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You’re taking money from old people! They’ve never been your mark before. Don’t you have a conscience at all?”

  “Crime is crime, little sister. You think all those years growing up Pops was really painting houses? He ran a home repair scam for years. You think he cared how many people he hurt? You think he thought twice about them when he got home to us? I rode with him on his last trip. He taught me all about it, how to do it, how to find a good mark. I learned well.”

  “And I found the heroin, Vano. Did Pops teach you that, too? Are you dealing drugs now?”

  That brought his chin up, and he snarled, “That ain’t your business. And I’m smarter than Pops. I learned a thing or two in prison. There’s easier ways of making money than driving all over the country in a van pretending to be a damn handyman.”

  “Who are you selling the heroin to, Vano?”

  “That doesn’t concern you.”

  “Are Skin and Weasel in on this? Maybe Skin is the real boss of you now.” She knew this would get to him.

  “That piece of shit ain’t the boss of me. He ain’t the boss of shit.”

  “You sure? He seems like he’s got you under his thumb.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Who are you selling the heroin to, Vano?”

  “Okay, fine. I’m leaving town anyway, so what do I care if you know. That was all Skin, okay? Does that make you feel better, little sister? No, your brother’s not a big-time drug dealer.”