The Chairman cowers away, fearful of the uprising tides I bring. “Do not do this…”
“One phone call,” I warn, holding my phone in my palm. “One phone call to the right person and you are nothing more than scarecrow, and no one—and I mean no one—will ever associate with you again. I will make it my life goal to destroy you, dishonor the Nakamura family, and cackle with glee while the crows pluck your straws of hay apart to build their golden nests.”
“You don’t have the balls to do that…”
“You want to test that theory, old man?” I smolder, ripe with a vindictive aura. “Go ahead and try me. Or you can hand over Lotus to me. You will give me my birthright, or I will slander your name for being a creepy, sick fuck until the day I die!”
He braces his hands on the seats to either side of him. “You were always to be the Lotus because that is what your grandmother proclaimed, but I always knew you were nothing more than trash, a wanna-be!”
“Give it to me now!” I scorn, holding up my phone. “Now!”
Nowala.
“You will never speak a word of the things I have done or dishonor the family name.”
“For complete control,” I negotiate the biggest deal of my life. “You resign from your position and declare Iris Nakamura Raniero The Chairwoman of Lotus, effective on November 9 at midnight.”
He quickly grabs his tablet and types out a broadcast message to all of Lotus. With trembling hands, I read the words announcing my triumphant acquisition.
“Lotus Queen,” he mutters. “You are everything they say you are.”
“Which is?”
“A cutthroat bloodthirsty cunt.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“I am leaving now,” he says. “Are you staying on board or getting off?”
“I need to call my husband.”
“The plane is taking off.”
“My plane,” I rebuke.
“Not until midnight tonight Iris.”
I put on my coat and grab my hat and purse. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Nakamura. Please send my plane back to Texas when you depart. You’re welcome to stay in my palace until your last breath as long as you behave.”
“Tell no one,” he begs. “Especially your father.”
“My father already knows what a snake you are, and he thinks I am one too for romancing hidden dreams trapped in the petals of a Lotus.”
I turn away as he says, “I love you, Iris.”
“You can love me, but I can never forgive you.”
“I am old,” he replies as I step closer. “Will you hand over Lotus in time?”
“I will do all of the things that no one ever could or would do for me,” I vow, feeling not a hint of remorse. “I will do the right thing. And make every minute count.”
Pivoting away, I stride down the steps of the plane with a new confidence, yet daunting in power.
I step off the runway and onto the grass as the engines fire up, and I see my grandfather raise his hand in the window. He does not wave or move his fingers. He turns away and the jet taxis and lifts off into the foreboding sky.
With my phone in my hand, I call Sal. He doesn’t answer. I call Deacon. He doesn’t answer. I call Dom. He doesn’t answer. I put on my hat and stare at the ominous clouds.
Storms are coming.
I must seek shelter.
But I cannot find it here.
I call Sal. I call Deacon. I call Dom. I call Amber.
No one answers.
I’ll give them five or fifteen minutes to get back to me. And I will call for a cab because I must seek shelter, and I will locate it on my own.
I breathe as the wind blows, trying to carry my hat away. I breathe as the lightning blinds my eyes, attempting to stop my heart. I breathe as the rain flutters down, matching the tears in my calamitous soul.
I am the Lotus Queen.
And I am grounded on the tarmac.
106
Break the Fence
His Mistress
“Oh my God,” I murmur, approaching the main gates of Juliet, which looks like a war zone. “There is no way we are getting in there, Mae.”
“Nope, too many woo woo!”
“Yeah,” I say, strumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “Where to go?”
“Go to Dommy’s!”
“… Dommy’s?” I ponder her suggestion and eye the loaded nine in my purse. “Give me another place.”
“Mmm…I don’t know.”
“Neither do I,” I fear, whipping a one-eighty in the middle of the road. “How often do you see Dommy?”
“A lot cause they’re my frans.”
“Your friends,” I correct, smiling and staring at her in the rearview. “You like Raine, Finn, and Romeo?”
“I do!” she loudly declares. “We go swimming with Megan!”
“You do?”
“Mhmm,” she mumbles. I drive through downtown, and it’s eerie—a ghost town. Everyone knows Nicky is on the loose because word spreads like wildfire in a small town. “Where is Iris?”
“Auntie is with her grandfather.”
And your father.
And technically, you are Iris’ Aunt Mae, and she is your niece. Your half-brother is Raiko, and Masa is your nephew.
My head spins.
I’m not having any kids.
“Iris!”
“Yes, baby,” I whisper, praying she is okay. “Was Megan at the place you were at this morning?”
I didn’t see Megan, but that doesn’t mean Mae didn’t. I don’t want to explain funerals to a four-year-old, and I know Serene used to take her in the stroller to walk the cemetery loop.
“No, she had work.”
“How do you know that?”
“Cause Serene took me to see her before she went bye-bye.”
“You didn’t go bye-bye, though,” I mumble as a chill runs up my spine.
Megan went bye-bye.
Oh. Fuck.
I hope I am not right because that’s really fucked up. I cover my mouth and cry as I pull around the curve to the house and stop. Dom’s Bronco isn’t in the driveway, but Megan’s car is.
She inquires, “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Call Sally!”
“I tried already,” I say, panicking. “He’s probably busy.”
“Pull into the drive!”
I’m not going into the house with the monster inside. Not with a baby. I am not an idiot.
The car behind me honks and speeds around me. He flips me off, but I don’t react.
Slowly, I turn into the long driveway as I spot Nicky, stripping off his bloodied shirt and stashing it in the saddlebag. He spies me and grins like a maniacal demon.
I am in Serene’s car.
“Fuck!”
“Bad word!”
“Mae, close your eyes and put your hands over them. Do not peek until I say so,” I instruct as he straddles onto the bike and speeds toward me. “Oh, God, help us!”
Adrenaline kicks in as I push the accelerator to the floor, aiming straight for him, but he dodges, barely clipping the bike. He flips over onto the grass as a shaking consumes my entire body. I spin a donut, hightailing it out of there.
I cross my fingers that the bike is damaged enough to stop him. But it’s too late for Megan.
I don’t look back.
I do the only thing I can do—I drive.
The memories hit hard and fast—of my fingertips grazing over the ornate scroll of ink…Straight to Hell…Deacon Vincent Cruz…of his smile…and his laugh…and his love.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “Open your eyes.”
“What was that bump?”
“I hit a piece of dead wood.” I snatch my phone from my purse and call Sal again. “Son of a bitch,” I grumble as the phone goes to voice mail, and I call Deacon. He answers on the first ring.
“Cruz.”
“Rosen,” I reply, lowering my voice, “the clown is
at Dommy’s…”
“Where are you?”
“Driving away because I hit something…”
“You hit him?” he replies in shock. “Did he…”
“I don’t know anything,” I freak, still trembling. “I didn’t go in the house. Please tell me where to go because I do not know. I cannot get into Juliet because it’s blockaded like a damn castle.”
“Go to Ma’s.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I scoff, scratching my head. “Deacon…”
“Deeeee!”
“Yes, baby, let Mama talk to Deeeee.”
I just said the word—Mama—I refused to claim.
Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I am getting soft.
“I’m headed out in less than ten. Berk is gathering up the rest of my stash now. I’m hitting the warehouse for tactical gear, and then I will be at Ma’s. Please go.”
“Are you sending an ambulance?”
“Yes, right now,” he replies, exasperated. “Were there other cars in the drive?”
“Megan’s car was the only one.”
“How bad is the bike?”
“I don’t know anything,” I snicker. “I am not a mechanic.”
“No, but I am—and a fixer, a repairman, and an executioner,” he boldly claims all that I already know. “And I am madly in love with you, and that fucker is dying today because of this.”
“… You’re in love with me?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I love you too,” I cry, turning towards Little Bee in downtown. “I need you.”
“Be strong for me,” he emphasizes. “I’ll see you soon, Stardust.”
Oh. Hell. I. Love. Deacon. Fucking. Cruz.
The Master
I swing Cruz’s bike past the car, keeping it hidden from the view of the street. She rushes out of the garage and waves me on. I pull in, stop, and cut the engine. She pushes the button for the garage door.
I jostle the helmet off and ruffle my hair before taking a good look at her. She looks nothing like the Mierne I remember. She’s not thin, but she’s lost a lot of weight.
“How long has it been since I’ve seen you?”
“Ages!” she says as I get off the bike and follow her into the house. She locks the door up tight. The familiar smell of her home strikes my memories, but it’s dark inside with the blinds closed. I spent so many hours with her here. “How are you?”
“Horrible,” I reply, opening her empty kitchen drawer and dropping everything inside—keys, wallet, phone—just like I have always done. It is routine, coded from years ago. I strip off my jacket and toss it on the table. I notice the gun on the counter. I pick it up and tuck it in my waistband.
“You want anything to drink? Water, wine, whiskey? Juice box?”
I chuckle. “Water would be great. Do you have anything I can munch on?”
“Fruit? Vegetables? Crackers? Nuts? Cookies?”
“Only if you got almond milk,” I reply, smirking at the numerous cougar jokes involving milk and cookies and my being her boy toy. “Umm…any kind of trail mix…”
“Done!” she says, getting the bag from the pantry and pouring it into a glass.
“You remembered.”
“Some things you don’t forget,” she says, smiling. I grab the water bottle and glass of trail mix. “Follow me into your new office.”
We hike up the stairs where she has converted the entire level to my command center. I notice the enormous whiteboard and cork board side by side with all of the notes. “Did you call Vega?”
“Of course, I did, but he isn’t sending anyone until I say so.”
Placing her gun on the filing cabinet by the door, I scan over all of her work. “This is impressive as fuck, Miemie.”
“Thank you,” she replies, sitting on the edge of the desk. “I just needed to get my head on straight.”
“Anything funky in Cruz’s club?”
“Not really,” she sighs. “They’re into some kinky sex and like their parties, but nothing alarming or unexpected.”
“Okay, I just got off the phone,” Georgia mutters, rushing into the room. “Oh…my…fucking…God…”
Swallowing my trail mix, I grin wide and set down the glass. “Hi, there! You might remember me. My name is…”
“Sal!” she interrupts with a deafening scream, and I laugh as she runs to me. She squeezes me hard. “Oh my fuck!” she squees, spinning me around and frisking everything, including my ass and junk. “You grew up!”
“Ya, it sucks,” I snicker.
“Okay,” she says, fanning herself with a stack of papers. “Got to work. Calm down. I called…I can’t believe you’re here!” she squeals and bounces in place, doing some impromptu Zumba routine. She screams agains. And breathes. “Okay, so…”
“Are you okay now?” I snort, picking up her wind-up dick and letting it walk across the desk. The command center is everything I dreamed, tucked away where no one would ever suspect. I glance over with bedroom eyes and mutter, “… G?”
“Yes!” She grins. “So I called dispatch, and they sent an ambulance to Dom’s house about twenty minutes ago.”
“Fuck…please tell me no one was home.”
“I don’t know yet,” Georgia says. “Ronnie said she would call me back.”
I glance at my watch. “It’s almost 3. We don’t find this asshole in the next two hours, and we’re fucked. We will have multiple casualties by dawn.”
“Yeah, I know. Kit called in extra units from Honey Cove, Godland, Little Bee, and Citadel, but we aren’t talking mass swarm, maybe a unit or two each. We’ve got volunteers scouring everywhere we can think of and Juliet is on lock down, but the rain is slowing us down—a lot.”
“I should get out there,” I mutter.
“And do what Sal?” Mierne rhetorically asks. “We have hundreds of people looking for Nicky. The best place for you to be isn’t out there doing field work, but in here working the problem, so we can figure out where he is going next.”
“She’s right,” Georgia soothingly adds. “We don’t need more man power; we need processing power. We aren’t going to beat Nicky with an army. We need one spot-on theory formed from your mind. All of the muscle in the world isn’t going to outweigh one correct answer. Don’t let bravado bury your brain.”
I nibble on a piece of granola and sit down cross-legged as Mierne offers, “We have chairs.”
Georgia quips, “Is this your method of brainstorming—on the floor like a kid in kindergarten at story time?”
“Perspective.” I give a rebellious smirk, assessing the sequence of complex activity before me. “Do we know where Jaid is yet?”
“Negative,” Georgia says, staring at me. “We have Kevyn working all the angles. She pulls a credit card, and we’ll know.”
“She’ll never use a credit card,” I mumble, laying flat on the floor. “She’s too smart for that. I am finally playing against the best.”
“It’s possible Cristos hid her,” Mierne suggests. “Or Serene.”
“I don’t think Cristos is helping her, but I do think Serene is. I played pacifist this morning at the funeral in order to achieve my goal.”
With a stunned expression, Georgia asks, “You got Mae?”
“Yeah, I lied my fucking face off to that whore to make sure I got Mae. I am not in the mood for an international kidnapping.”
“Do you think Serene would’ve taken Mae and left?”
“Without even a second thought,” I contend, popping my fingers. “If I hadn’t worked her as I did, Mae wouldn’t be with Amber right now.”
“What do you think?”
“We need to find Nicky ASAP.”
“Oh, God…” Georgia says, holding her phone. “They found Megan. She is alive, but there are multiple stab wounds. They’re landing a chopper to take her to Austin because the ER at Sugargrove Memorial (SGM) is packed.”
“Does anyone know where Dom is?”
&
nbsp; “I haven’t heard from him,” Mierne says. “Which is odd because he’d been calling every day, but with the funeral…”
“Hold up!” Georgia exclaims. “Megan went into her office at the hospital, got a call from Dom, and said she was meeting them for lunch at Lamb’s House. She never showed. This is according to her boss, Janine.”
“Jack Kerris’ former submissive?”
“Yes,” Mierne confirms. “I ran the background check. Janine wanted to come back to Sugargrove because she missed the quaintness of the town. She is also dating Caldwell of RR.”
“Did they clear the house?”
“I’m assuming so,” Georgia says as I stare at the boards. “But units are slim pickings at the moment. What’s in that magnificently large head of yours?”
Studying the flow chart on the boards, I snicker, “My wife shot the wrong Grace sister.”
“I would almost guarantee that is correct,” Mierne agrees. “None of us would have chosen Madeline over Jaid.”
“But even so, none of this with Jaid makes any fucking sense. We need to go back to the heart and core of an investigation. She doesn’t have the profile to match the heinous acts she is committing. Something is fucking off.”
“I hate to admit this,” Mierne says, stealing a handful of my trail mix. “But I know you are right. I have gone over it every night until dawn. Torturing, raping, starving Deacon is not Jaid. What if we’re looking at this backward?”
“You mean, what if it’s not who is controlling Nicky, but who Nicky is controlling?”
“Exactly,” Mierne comments. “We could certainly point at Serene as being a possible puppet to his Master. Why not Jaid?”
“But why would Nicky send Serene off with Cristos?” I question. Immediately, I know the answer. “Serene is the only one close enough to Cristos to kill him.”
“I’ll call Moses at Juliet,” Mierne proposes as I reach for the glass. She hands it to me. “We may not be able to stop Nicky, but we can damn sure hold his puppets and pawns in place.”
Picking out the granola clusters, I ask, “Is Cristos at Juliet?”
A Dark Place (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 5) Page 86
