by Raven Scott
She gulped, her slender neck flexing before she nodded firmly, and Illya put her foot on the box to grab the pliers in trembling hands. The ribs gripped her toenail, and my stomach roiled at the sudden calm that lightened the atmosphere. Flexing her unstable grip on the tool, she gathered up her hair sloppily, and my brows rose when she punched herself in the upper abdomen.
Illya jerked her toenail off as a bloodcurdling, gurgled cry filled the room and echoed out the open door. She turned green, body heaving as her skin instantly slicked with a cold sweat. Nothing I’d ever seen was as horrific as this, but determination still defined her thin brows as she wiped away her tears. Blood seeped from her toe as she moved onto the next one, and she took a loud, rattling breath before ripping out that nail by the root.
I didn’t do the disservice of looking away, and Illya went through all five toes before dropping the pliers with a loud clatter. She didn’t collapse like I’d expected, flipping her hair even as it stuck to her face to glare at me. Tilting my head in acceptance, I clenched my jaw hard as she wobbled out, and the whole complex seemed to shudder when she leaned hard against the wall out of sight.
“Oran, bring all of them here. I’m going to watch you do the job to make sure you don’t try to hide one.” Glancing at my brother as he nodded, defeated, I scanned my brother standing, solemn, on one side of my office. “From now on, if you go against me, I won’t look the other way. You can pull that shit with Dad, but not me.”
Again, Oran nodded, the muscles in his arms straining as he clenched and released his fists in his pants pockets. Flickering to Mateo, my eyes narrowed into slits, and he looked about ready to throw up. Maybe, I’d been wrong, and letting my father take his reins was a mistake.
“You’re being sent to the city. I’ll give you the details when you get there. Fuck it up, and I’ll kill you myself, Mateo. I no longer have the time or inclination to deal with you. I’m not cleaning up your messes anymore.” Flicking my wrist at the door, both my brothers shuffled out quietly, and I sat up on my desk to run my hands up my face. My dad closed the door behind him, and I was left alone with a ringing in my ears.
29
Valerie
“What do you think of this, Fred?” Turning over my sketch pad, I propped my elbows on the table, and Fred grinned like a little boy seeing a lollipop he didn’t earn. “It’s just the sketch, so it can be changed.”
“No . . . no, that’s perfect.” The kitchen table was a complete mess of papers, and I gazed over the spine of my book as Fred nodded firmly. “You’re a really talented horror illustrator. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Not specifically. I just get told a lot that my stuff has dark undertones.” Pride bubbled in my chest when Fred’s smile widened, and Natasha sat back in her chair to groan loudly.
“There’s so much to do. Who knew making an app like this was so difficult?” Marshal raised his hand, not bothering to look up from whatever he was reading on his tablet, and I opened my mouth only to get cut off by the doorbell ringing. Pushing myself up, I skirted the living room with a pep in my step, and I couldn’t be happier with the progress we were making. Sure, it was a lot of work, but that made it so much better.
Not that Natasha ever appreciated hard work. She liked things easy.
Opening the door, my brows rose when no one stood on the other side, and I stuck my head out of the threshold. A glimmer caught my eye and dragged my gaze downward, and a slight frown dragged down my lips.
“Hey, Nat, did you drunk buy something online again?” Picking up the sizeable package, my frown deepened at the weight. “It’s pretty heavy— that means expensive!”
“I haven’t gotten drunk in days. I’m saving myself for Vegas.” Puffing out my lips, I set the box on the sofa to be ignored for now, and I snuck my phone out of my jean pocket. “Maybe it’s a present from your boyfriend!”
Huffing softly, I opened my unread text from Carlyle and rolled my lips between my teeth.
Carlyle: I’m glad things are going well. After we get back, I’ll introduce you to your marketing director.
Typing a quick reply, I wandered back into the kitchen to plop in my chair to sigh heavily. Either this project would go well, or it’d sink fast. We had to work to make it good, and my gaze flickered around the circular table. All I had to do was focus on concept art right now, but Fred had a clear vision of where he wanted this to go. He was a much better manager than Paul, and I licked my lips heavily.
“So, I’ll just run with this for now, and we’ll make changes as we go along.” Nods all around, and I cleared my throat as I grabbed my sketchbook.
“Don’t worry about anything but banging out il—” A shrill beep cut Fred off, and I twisted with confusion, scrunching up my nose under furrowed brows. Natasha and I shared a weird look. The beep wasn’t coming from the stove or any phone, and I stood up to follow the sound. Pulling my phone out, I unlocked the screen to tap Carlyle’s number as I drifted into the living room.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you know, you could’ve just brought my present to me yourself. It would’ve meant a lot more.” Palpable confusion rose the hairs on my cheek, and I held my phone between my ear and shoulder. “What?”
“I didn’t send you anything. What present?” The sharp edge of his voice stiffened my knees, and I pushed my hair back to hold my phone against my ear. “What is that sound in the background?”
“You didn’t send it?” My gaze locked on the sofa, and dread curdled my blood as the beeping droned in my ear. “We didn’t buy anything online. Nat hasn’t drunk shopped in a while.”
“Is there a return address?” Anxiety beaded my upper lip as I peeked over the back of the couch, and I shook my head before remembering Carlyle couldn’t see me. “Get out of the apartment, Valerie. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
“What? Why?” Backing up as I posed the questions, I tensed as my thoughts stalled. “Oh fuck . . . is there, like, a bomb in the box or something!”
“Valerie, shut the fuck up and get out, damnit!” I couldn’t hear anything but that beeping even as the air rippled against my back, and my legs locked as fear gripped my spine in a vice. “Fucking punch it, Carl!”
“Oh fuck . . . oh my God . . . Carlyle . . . is there a bomb in the box? Oh shit . . . ” My eyes ached, and my lungs seized as I shook my head wildly. Suddenly, the beep went silent, and my heart throbbed from its furious pace. Blood drummed in my ears, and I choked on the lump in my throat when two hands grabbed my arms and yanked me back.
Tile sent tendrils of frigid cold up my legs, and my grip on my phone tightened before a horrible boom rattled the very foundation of the apartment. Dust and smoke surged into the kitchen, and I crouched down to cover my head as a shriek burst from my throat. Ringing assaulted my ears, and my teeth trembled in their sockets from the ripples in the air.
“Oh . . . shit, Valerie . . . hey . . . hey . . . ” Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I barely registered Fred’s call even when he shook my shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
The sickening shattering of glass banged around in my skull, and I whipped around as the television mounted on the wall fell flat onto the floor. The sofa had been knocked back a few feet, at least, and I knocked back on my ass to scoot back.
“What the fuck? What the fuck . . . fuck . . . fuck . . . ” There was a huge piece of wood blown out the back of the couch embedded in the floor where I’d just been standing. I was literally just standing there a second ago!
“Hey, Val, look at me.” Grabbing my face between his palms, Fred seemed excruciatingly calm, and he nodded with a little, reassuring smile. “You’re alright. Let’s get out of here. Can you walk?”
“I-I-I . . . ” A low groan cut off my stutter, and my eyes snapped to Natasha as she hoisted herself up onto her hands and knees. The table had been knocked over, and she pushed a chair off her to shake her head roughly. “Nat . . . Nat . . . oh, fuck!”
Crawling over to her, I
wrapped my arms around my sister as my tears spilled out, and she gripped me in a deadly bear hug. Wrapping my legs around her, I struggled to breathe in her grip, but I didn’t care because at least I could still do it.
“Marshal . . . hey, Marshal, we gotta go, man.”
“How can you be so fucking calm? We almost got blown up!” Aghast, Marshal practically screamed, and I winced at the high pitch, assaulting my ears. “Fuck, Fred!”
“I worked for a comic book place, dude— those fans are really passionate and get really angry. We got threats and stuff all the time. It wasn’t that bad a blast— good thing she put it on the sofa.” Fred’s calm voice floated in and out of the ringing in my ears, and I shivered as Natasha cupped the back of my head. “Furniture saved Hitler’s life, you know.”
“Valerie . . . ” Whimpering at the touch on my shoulder, I tightened my grip on my sister, and she on me. “It’s okay. It’s alright. You need to stand up, okay.”
“N-no . . . I’m not moving.” The crackling of wood splintering ripped through my apartment, and the floor trembled from heavy, stomping feet.
“Get the fuck out of the way.” My dazed mind couldn’t register the voice, and I tensed when powerful arms wrapped around both my sister and I and effortlessly hauled us off the floor. Two fingers gripped my hip, and I cracked my eyes open to find Theo’s dark, pissed off expression just inches from my face.
Natasha hiccupped against my cheek, and I managed a strained inhale as my lungs screamed for oxygen. Blinking hard, I didn’t even wonder how hard it must've been to carry our combined weight down three flights of stairs, but that was all the time it took to breach the emergency exit. One blink and I was outside, with the sun on my face and sirens ringing in my ears.
“Valerie!” My throat closed, and Theo dumped my sister and I on the trunk of a car before Carlyle entered my field of vision. Warm, dry hands cupped my face, and my being glued to Natasha didn’t stop him from caressing my cheeks with his thumbs.
“She’s in shock. They’ll be fine. How the Hell did they go from one phone call to a fucking package bomb, Carlyle?” My eyes widened, flying to Natasha, and I pulled back as much as my weak muscles allowed.
“You! You lied about not getting any calls or anything! Why . . . why would you lie about that, Nat!” Blown pupils met mine, and Natasha frowned and licked her lips at my shrill, unstable accusations.
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t get a single call or message or anything since you broke your phone. Wasn’t the package addressed to you, Val?” Was it? I couldn’t remember right now, my brain too frazzled and in disarray. Turning to Carlyle just as a fire truck screeched to a stop behind him, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He smiled tightly, but his eyes blazed with fury, and my lids shuttered as I rested my cheek over Natasha’s heart.
30
Valerie
“Here.” Carlyle’s secretary smiled warmly as she handed me a glass of tea, not a mug, and the heat suffused my palms almost instantly. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.” He’d stuck us in what could’ve been a board meeting room, and I took a sip of my tea and set it down before I dropped it. For the moment, my sister, coworkers, and I were alone, and my brain puttered along sluggishly. The memory of the name on the package meant it was addressed to me, but . . .
Natasha hadn’t heard anything at all from Mom or the guy that I’d talked to that once? How did things escalate to the point of being blown up?
The doors swung open, and I glanced over to find Carlyle and who I assumed was his brother because they looked a little the same, but for glasses and build. He barely glanced at me, and I inhaled a shuddering breath as he slapped a sheath of papers on the table.
“You really haven’t gotten any calls from this guy? Which means they’re specifically targeting Valerie. Why? You’re her sister— you know her best.” Natasha was in far better shape than I was, and she flopped back in her seat to sigh frustratedly.
“She’s younger than me, and I guess that means she’s a spineless bitch? I don’t fucking know why. How’d you get my phone records?” Carlyle ignored the last question completely to sit down at the head of the table, and I felt safer having him two chairs away. “Mom must guess she’d be easier.”
“Do you have any idea at all who your mother’s debt is to?”
“Not specifically, but some dude was following me at one point. I’d recognize him— he had face tattoos.” Surprise burst from my lips in a squawk, and Natasha’s gaze flickered to me to glisten in regret. “I never told you because I knew you’d freak out.”
“Face tattoos are used a lot in gangs and cartels, so being in Dallas, it wouldn’t be a small list. Do you know anything to narrow it down?”
“Carlyle, the major gangs in Dallas wouldn’t send someone high enough ranking as to have a face tattoo after them. It has to be a small fry trying to act big.” Speaking up from just behind his brother, Oran— that was his name, right— cleared his throat roughly. “My contact told me they’ve had an upset the past year and a half or so, someone gobbling up territory. Somehow, they haven’t gotten under the major players’ skin yet to be dealt with.”
“Call Pedro Gonzalez and tell him to get his ass here.” Carlyle’s eyelid twitched in agitation, his already deep voice a growl, and I felt myself getting sucked out of my body. Who was he? How could he be so levelheaded? How’d he get Natasha’s phone records?
How’d he suspect it was a bomb?
“Pedro Gonzalez? The guy who executed half a town on the border?” Speaking up cautiously, Fred sat up in his chair, and Carlyle nodded unabashed. “What the fuck is going on here? Who are you? How’d you get us off the street without the police getting too involved?”
Carlyle leveled a stare, and I gnawed on my inner cheek as the tensions rose. Inhaling deeply, he stood up only to sit on the table, and unease ate away at my gut.
“Do you really want the answers to those questions? The simple one is I am rich. I can buy anything— the police included. I can buy the best hacker in the world, and I can get rid of anyone, anywhere, anytime, and no one will ask questions.” The badly disguised threat shut Fred up, and Carlyle scoffed lightly before turning back to my sister. “Do you have any way to narrow down the list, Natasha?”
“U-um . . . I mean, I can describe him pretty well. He was following me for weeks.” Carlyle nodded, gesturing to his brother without looking at him, and Oran left the room for some reason I couldn’t quite put together yet. “I tried really hard to stay out of my mom’s bullshit, so I wouldn’t even know a general location.”
“The description will be good enough. When I find your mother, I’ll hold onto her until you decide what you want to do. Until then, I’ll show you to your apartment.” Standing up, Carlyle glanced between the two men thoughtfully before cocking his head. “Would you prefer to commute to work or take a temporary stay? Neither of you has kids, and your wife is divorcing you, so it’s up to you.”
“You know my wife i—” Marshal cut himself off, and I glanced over dazedly as he shook his head. Everything moved around me, like a glass wall erected between me and everyone else. “I’ll take the stay— it’s better than crashing on your couch, Fred.”
“I guess I will, too, then.” Staring at the edge of the long table, I wrapped my arms around myself as the air moved along my cold skin. Blood drummed in my ears, and my heartbeat throbbed through my whole body with each slow, weak pump.
“Llane will show you across the bridge. Just follow her.” When Fred and Marshal had shuffled out, Carlyle closed the door behind them, and he wandered over to drop into the chair next to mine. “Are you alright, Valerie?”
The world moved in slow motion as I tilted my head, and Carlyle managed a grim, ugly smile as he rubbed his palms together. Everything was in a wide shot, and I simply nodded dumbly when his question finally processed.
“We need to talk when you’re feeling up to it. Someone is thoroughly going th
rough your apartment right now, and I’m going to find out who made that bomb.” My throat tightened at that four-letter word, and Carlyle leaned his forearms on his knees to sigh. “Pedro will move mountains not to get on my bad side, so he’ll cooperate. Until we sort this mess out, you’re both going to stay here. If you need anything, no request is too outlandish.”
“I . . . I need a shower.” Nodding curtly, Carlyle held out his hand, and I took it without thinking. His skin was hot, hot enough to melt off his bones, hot enough to bubble, but not hot enough to burn me. Standing up on wobbly legs, I sniffed hard as I leaned into his chest, and he cupped my head and hooked an arm around my back.
“Follow me, please.” Those strong arms didn’t waver as they led me around the chairs and out of the room, and I exhaled a shuddering breath. “Would you like anything particular, Natasha?”
“Some really good booze and a lot of ice cream, yeah. Please.” His heartbeat against my chin was sure and strong as he nodded again, and I glanced up at Carlyle through glazed eyes. “I take it we’re not going to Vegas.”
“Unfortunately not, no.” I wasn’t sure which direction we went, but he eventually swiped a card and opened the door to usher me inside. “I’ll have your things delivered here when they arrive. For now, just relax. You’ll be fine here. I’ll let Cindy know you won’t be meeting together until next week.”
“Carlyle . . . ” My own whisper sounded alien, and he hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Right this way.” Leading me past the kitchen, he popped open a door directly to the right at the lip of the hallway. “Let me know if you need anything, Valerie. You, too, Natasha. As I said, no request is too much.”
