Grim Ambition

by Jennifer Reinfried

  Jaxon didn’t reply.

  “Hello? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. We can. Hand it over.”

  Shawn relinquished the mask. Another silence followed, and he felt along the workbench until his fingers bumped into his brother’s beer bottle. Snatching it up, Shawn took a long swallow of warm scotch ale and grimaced. “Disgusting.”

  “Serves you right for stealing my beer.”

  "You never answered me, by the way. How are you and Cassie?"

  “What do you mean, ‘how are we?’ There’s nothing going on between us.”

  Shawn hesitated. “Why not? I mean, you clearly like her.”

  “Yeah. So? Just because I—”

  “Here we go again.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Shawn crossed his arms, but nervously continued. Don’t piss him off. Just prod a little. “I mean, I understand you like her, but don’t get why you haven’t, I dunno, asked her out. And every time I bring it up, you get all defensive. That’s all.”

  “I was with Julie for five years.”

  “I know.”

  “We were engaged.”

  “I get that.”

  “I’m not ready. Okay?” Jaxon’s blur moved away from the workbench, away from Shawn. “I get that it’s been two years, I do, but to me, it’s still fresh. Every night I go to bed thinking of Julie, missing her. Craving one last moment with her.” His voice moved back and forth as he paced the basement. “The last thing I need right now is my brother and closest friend trying to force me into something I’m not ready for.”

  “I get that, but Jax, it’s always going to hurt. You’re always going to miss Julie.” Shawn kept his voice soft. “Maybe by telling yourself over and over that you’re not ready, you’re forcing your mind to keep dwelling on the past instead of moving forward.”

  There was a pause. Jaxon stopped moving, but didn’t reply.

  Movement to his left caught Shawn’s eye, but he ignored it. Not now, dammit. “Why not give it a shot?”

  Still no answer.

  “Jax, eventually, you need to come to terms with the fact that if you don’t move forward, you’re going to end up a mopey old man, all alone, with nothing but a walker and bitterness.”

  Silence.

  Shawn frowned. “Are you even listening to me?”

  "Yeah." Jaxon’s voice sounded distant, even though he stood nearby. "I don't know."

  "You don’t know what?" Shawn realized his brother sounded occupied. He reached along the workbench and felt both the laptop and Jaxon’s cell phone still in place. "Jax, what are you doing?"

  "Nothing," his brother snarled, his voice vicious.

  "I...Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. I just wanted to help."

  "I'm fine. Need another beer?"

  Shawn frowned, but said, "Yeah, sure." He hesitated, then changed the subject. "So, I have a lead on some weapons being transported for Vance tonight. I was thinking of hitting it, taking some more of his people out."

  "You get your face bashed in with a metal pipe, and shot, and you want to go right back out again? You're insane."

  Shawn held up a finger with a grin. "It was a graze. I didn’t get shot, just shot at.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Besides, it’s been a week. I've already fully healed. Not a scratch on me, now. I mock pain, laugh in its face.”

  “That’s going to get you killed one day, dumbass.” Jaxon was clearly still irritated.

  “Any new thoughts about the coding?”

  “I came up with a couple ideas for the mask, actually, but we’d have to redo the...”

  “The what?”

  Jaxon ignored him.

  "Okay. What the hell is up with you? You've been pissy and distant lately."

  "Look." Jaxon’s voice came forward. Shawn reached forward just as his brother handed over a cold bottle. "I haven't been sleeping well. I don't mean to be an asshole."

  Shawn gripped the top of his bottle and wrenched its top.

  "Dude, that wasn't a twist off."

  He shrugged and grinned, then tossed the bottle cap in Jaxon's direction. It missed entirely and clattered to the floor a few yards away. "Not sleeping well how?"

  "I’ve been having nightmares here and there." Jaxon moved back to his spot on the stool in front of his laptop. "They can get really bad."

  Shawn took a sip of his beer, but stayed quiet, letting his brother continue.

  "It's always the same setting, in a medical facility or lab," Jaxon continued. "I can feel pain in the dreams, feel people touching me as they push me along hallways." A pause. "I can feel the stickiness of blood on my clothes."

  "Blood?"

  "I was being pulled out of a room, a big white one. There was blood everywhere. People were screaming. I saw my mom and...how she died.”

  "Have you thought about taking anything for it? Medication?" Shawn spoke quietly, cautiously.

  "Nah, man, I don't need that shit." Jaxon chugged his beer loudly for a moment. A bright glow formed near Shawn.

  "Just call already.”

  "How did you—"

  "I can see a flash of light every time you check your cell. You're too obvious."

  "It's just that she's late. Over an hour. We still haven't heard from Henry."

  "Yeah, but I'm sure you're okay with that, since it means Cassie's staying at your—"

  His brother snapped once again. "Can you quit joking around for once? This is serious."

  Shawn held up his hand in a defensive gesture. "Whoa, sorry. Look, it's only been a week. Henry can't just run up to Vance and be like, 'Hey! Cassie didn't do it!'"

  Jaxon let out a small laugh.

  "I know you're worried, but everything's fine. No reason to be paranoid just yet."

  "Still. What if—"

  "Call her. I guarantee she's fine."

  His brother scoffed, but the small glow of his phone remained. Moments later, he heard two rings. “Put it on speakerphone. I care, too.” Shawn smiled.

  A tinny female voice answered shortly after the call was made public.

  “Hello?”

  “Cassie, hey, uh, it’s Jaxon. Just...making sure everything’s okay. Are you still planning on coming over to Shawn’s?”

  "Yeah, sorry. I’m about ready to head over. Hey, I heard from Henry. He texted me that everything was fine, that my name has been cleared."

  Shawn spoke up. “That’s fantastic. Oh, you’re on speakerphone.”

  Cassie laughed. “Yeah, so I can move back home and go back to work. I’m so relieved.”

  “So are we.”

  “Well, in that case, I say we celebrate,” Jaxon said. “Let’s grab a drink somewhere instead, if you’re up for it.”

  Shawn frowned and started shaking his head.

  “Sure,” came her reply. “I could use a little stress relief. Where are you guys thinking?”

  “How about The Fling? It’s only a few blocks between our places.”

  Shawn threw his hands up into the air, frustrated.

  “Cool. See you there in a bit.” She disconnected the call.

  “Dude, what the hell?" Shawn groaned. "I’m not going out right now. I told you I was taking down that weapons deal.”

  “Oh, you’re not coming with?” Jaxon asked innocently. “Darn.”

  "Ah. Oh! You’re sneaky."

  “No I’m not. I’ll just say you turned down the offer after all. It’s the truth.”

  Shawn laughed. “Fine. Go get her.”

  Rustling sounded as Jaxon began packing his things. “How long have you been playing with the vision today? I don’t want you out there once—”

  “Three hours, tops,” Shawn interrupted, running a hand through his hair.

  “Okay. Be back within a couple hours, dude.”

  “Aye aye, captain. Have fun on your date.”

  “It’s not a date. You’re forcing it again. I’m trying to take your advice, but I need
to move at my own pace.”

  “Sorry, sorry. I’m just...I just want to see my brother happy, okay?”

  “You can barely see anything.”

  “Dick.” Shawn clapped Jaxon on the shoulder as his blur moved past.

  As his brother’s footsteps receded and climbed the stairs, Shawn turned in time to witness a dark smudge flicker nearby. That’s it. He fumbled along the surface of the workbench until his fingers found the Grim mask. Pulling it on, Shawn activated the lenses and looked around the basement, but he was alone.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell, but there was no one to call. For a moment, Shawn considered yelling for Jaxon before his brother left the house, but decided against it. He has enough on his plate already. I’ll tell him something’s messed up with my vision later.

  —-

  “We have plenty of capital, and our income has tripled in the last three years, but we still have an issue.” Vance's Head of Finance paced the room, exasperation on his lined face. “The Acerbi family continues to be a strong presence in this city, which they view as theirs. They've resisted our attempts to compromise, and keep giving us issues when we attempt to move product.”

  “Understood, Volk.” Alex was unperturbed.

  “How are you not worried about this?” The older man shot back, his voice echoing through the office at the rail depot. Alex's spotless dress shoes moved across the freshly scrubbed concrete floor. His mind recalled each splatter and pool of blood left from Henry's torture in precise detail, how the other man's screaming had subsided from shock after a while. At least I was able to crack him, get him to confess to what he did, and convince Cassie all was well, he thought with pride. It had been the first time in a long while that he had felt anything other than irritation or anger. Satisfaction had glowed in his chest, warmed him as he snapped Henry's cell phone, then ended his life. Afterward, he had been full of the fresh success, awash with confidence, compelling him to bend Emma over the railing on the depot's steps once the others had all left.

  Alex frowned as the thought of Emma clouded his mind, and he glanced back to Volk.

  "The Esposito and Bianci families also gave Vance problems as he was rising to power in Redborough.” Alex straightened his glasses. "We convinced some to work for us, others we eliminated. There's no reason we can't do the same to the Acerbi if they continue to ignore us."

  "I'm with the big guy on this one, Volk." Marcus had been leaning in the door frame listening to the meeting, absentmindedly smoothing his graying beard and smoking a cigarette, but now stepped forward. “We’ve already taken some of what’s theirs while they ran around with their tails between their legs after the other families fell. I think we have to be more ruthless than them is all. Take what we want. Show them we aren’t to be fucked with.”

  Volk grimaced. "Adapting to your new role already, I see."

  Marcus grinned and shrugged, one thumb looped through a belt loop of his dark grey jeans. "It's a good fit."

  “True, there are members of the Acerbi that frown on our involvement in the city," Alex cut in, "but some do not. I’ve already personally been in touch with a few of them to attempt an agreement over territory. They admit a new change is in order.”

  "There's also a particular thorn in their side," Marcus reminded him. "The DA."

  Alex nodded. "Emma's successfully landed us a meeting with the district attorney, which occurs in two days' time. If we bring him under our wing, not only will we gain great power in Redborough's government, but it might get us the trust we need from the Acerbi."

  "We could lose a lot just 'taking what we want,' in my opinion." Volk rubbed a temple with two fingers. "I for one would prefer to not start a war with the Acerbi, especially if the other families manage to rise back to power somehow."

  Marcus scoffed. "What do you care? You just move the money around."

  Alex shot him a disapproving glance. "We're too strong now for that to happen."

  "And we're just getting stronger." Marcus snuffed his cigarette out on the smooth surface of the desk.

  Volk shrugged. "You know what you're doing.” Addressing Alex, he said, “I'll have the reports you want no later than tomorrow morning." He left the room in a few quick strides.

  Alex turned to Marcus. "Emma has you on recon tomorrow?"

  "She does. Me and Grant."

  "Good."

  "She's a bossy one."

  Alex's eyes narrowed. "Because she's in charge of this infiltration. Do you have an issue with that?"

  "Not at all. Don't get all snappish on me. I'm just sayin' what I see."

  "Do as she says." Alex crossed the room and rounded the desk, eyes lingering momentarily on the stubbed cigarette. "Still no word of Grim since the night at the Blue Marlin?"

  "No, sir. He's been quiet."

  "That's not a good sign. Double our men at the weapons distribution tonight. Do the same for the product being moved at the Dragon next week."

  "On it." Marcus turned to leave with a mock salute.

  Alone for a moment, Alex swiped the debris the man had left on the desk into a small trash can. Back straight, he stared at the chair Henry had occupied. Memories flooded over him again, irritating him further. Focus on your work, he scolded himself. Alex withdrew a briefcase from underneath the desk and exited the room.

  As he passed the stairs to the depot's upper floor, his steps faltered. His mind recalled the soft skin of Emma’s thighs when he had bent her over the railing near the office. He could almost hear her cries bouncing through the building again. Alex glanced at his watch, hesitated, and pulled his cell phone free from his suit coat.

  "Hello?" Her voice was light and soft.

  "It's me. I need to see you."

  "Oh?"

  "I want to discuss the meeting with the DA again," he lied.

  "Ah. I'm at home now. Where should I meet you?"

  Alex felt his heart skip. "I'll come to you."

  An hour and a half later he withdrew from Emma, sweat dripping down his temples. He let go of her waist and rose, sitting along the side of her bed, trying to slow his breathing. A light sensation moved along his back as she trailed a finger down his spine. Alex flinched away for a moment, then relaxed as her touch continued.

  "Some meeting.”

  "What?" He glanced at her over his shoulder and found he could not look away from her nude form, glistening in the soft yellow light of her bedroom.

  "You said you wanted to talk about work, yet the moment you set foot in my apartment, you couldn't take your hands off me."

  "Oh. Yes." He didn't know what to say.

  "Why are you so distant? So cold?"

  Alex frowned. "I am who I am."

  "We've slept together three times now. You can relax around me, you know."

  "I am relaxed."

  "Sure. Right." Emma sat up, sheets sticking to her sweat-slicked back for the slightest moment. Alex watched as she moved to her dresser and rummaged around inside.

  Something felt different in his chest, felt off. He let his eyes trail over her curves, then back to her face as she turned, and the feeling grew.

  "What?" She had caught him staring.

  Alex opened his mouth to say nothing was wrong, but paused. He stood and walked over to her, tilted her face upward, and kissed her. Her body went rigid, then loosened.

  "What was that for?"

  Alex shrugged. "Just felt like doing it."

  "That's the first time you've kissed me." She looked so baffled, he almost laughed.

  "Well, that's an idiotic move on my end," he said, and kissed her again. "I like it."

  Emma smiled up at him. The odd sensation in his chest intensified, and he stepped away, confused.

  "Alex."

  He stared into her eyes. How have I never noticed how blue they are?

  "Stop being so distant to me. Relax a little, laugh for fuck's sake, and," she pressed against him, skin flush with his, "keep kissing me." She pushed her lips to hi
s again, and the embrace lasted longer than he expected. They pulled apart, breathless. "I like it too," she said, eyes mischievous.

  Alex felt his discipline waver as she turned and shut herself in the bathroom. He lowered himself onto her bed once more, but this time, reclined against the headboard, one arm propping up his skull.

  When she emerged again, face rinsed, she climbed up next to him and snuggled into the crook of his arm. For a moment, Alex felt muddled. He hesitated. Focus on your job. Focus. He could smell her hair, a light scent of lavender. Alex lowered his arm and wrapped it around her torso, smiling when she nestled closer.

  "Things are going really well." Emma’s breath caressed his bare chest.

  "They are. And that will continue. Once we have the DA in our grasp and the Acerbi on our side, Vance will be stronger than he has ever been."

  She was quiet a moment, then said, "Just make sure you let me do most of the talking in the meeting. Slatter likes me."

  "Telling me what to do?"

  Emma looked up at him. "Suggesting a course of action that won't get someone killed is more like it."

  —-

  Shawn landed on the hard pavement of the street and took off running, his dark grey suit blending in with the other shadows of the night. As he sprinted toward the docks of the Columbia River, he glanced side to side, the mask's lenses showing him the passing world. Not a soul moved.

  The road gradually curved to the left and stopped at a dead end, but Shawn went straight, leaping first onto soft grass and then moving across rough gravel as he ran. He hopped over train tracks once, twice, three times, until the waterside was in sight. Slowing, Shawn peered around for cover. He spotted a large pile of lumber next to a boarded up building and darted up behind it.

  Voices sounded in the distance, near the river. Shawn breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, then risked a glance around the stacked wood. Silhouettes moved along the docks, next to three vehicles. He saw two sleek black SUVs with their engines running, headlights on, flanking a large white van. All three were pointed away from the gathering, illuminating every nook and cranny nearby. Shawn, out of the light’s reach, pulled back and began to climb the lumber. He scaled it quickly and quietly, and scanned his surroundings from the new vantage point.