Grim Ambition

by Jennifer Reinfried

  As she passed the door to her guest room, Emma paused. Stepping inside, she flipped the lightswitch, bathing the area in a soft glow. She sat at her drawing desk, its angled surface covered in her latest sketches. Smiling, she rifled through a small stack. One of her mother in a long flowing dress halted her movements. Large feathered wings protruded from between her mother’s shoulder blades, but she was looking off to her left, not at the viewer, an expression of longing evident on her face.

  Emma moved on, laughing as she revealed one of Vance as a circus ring master. Her smile remained when she flipped to one of Isaac. She’d drawn him on the porch of a worn-down cabin, trees just visible in the background. He grinned up at her from the page, and she stared back into his eyes, feeling pulled into the sketch. I should frame this one.

  She frowned and replaced the stack of papers. They’re not good enough for framing. It’s just a silly hobby. Get your mind off of his goofy grin, soft curly hair, perfect green eyes...dammit. Unable to stop thinking of Isaac, she entered her bathroom and picked up her toothbrush.

  You’re constantly flirty with him, and he never responds to it. Get over him. Focus on Alex for now. Emma vigorously brushed her teeth, staring at her reflection in the mirror. After swishing cold water twice, she changed into an old Dungeons and Dragons t-shirt and approached her bed, sliding her legs underneath the covers.

  Before sleep dragged her eyes shut, Emma let her mind relax. She thought of the events of the past few weeks, thought of Alex and the red flags she knew she was ignoring. Her eyes squeezed shut at the memory of Henry’s fingers snapping in her lover’s hands, how Alex had looked thrilled to be inflicting such pain. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was any other way to get what she wanted while under Vance’s employ.

  You should just leave with Isaac.

  Light drumbeats of thunder echoed in the distance, and Emma’s mind dredged up reminders from her past. Even though she had only been seven at the time, she still remembered the hellish storm the night her mother was killed. She recalled with clarity how her mother screamed as Vance himself dragged her from her bedroom. His right-hand man, a big, brawny Italian at the time, had been beating her when Emma had run in. She remembered Vance’s thick-lipped grin when his eyes locked onto her, how his rough hands had snatched Emma up by the shoulders, how her mother’s sobs fell silent when she saw her daughter dangling from his grasp.

  “You disappoint me too much, Cindy,” Vance had said. “Perhaps I should just take little Emma with me to ensure you will not try to leave with her again.”

  Her mother had begun to beg then, promising whatever Vance might want in exchange for her daughter’s safety.

  “I had given you a promise to keep her out of harm’s way, and you spit in my face, try to disappear. My men bring you back home, and you have the derzost’ to shoot at one of them.” Vance had lowered Emma at that point, but kept his hold on her firm. “Now tell your daughter what she needs to know to stay alive.”

  Cindy had stared at him with wide, wet eyes, lips trembling, blood trickling from a cut above her eye.

  “Tell her. Make the last thing you say to little Emma count.”

  Her mother’s tremulous gaze fell downward and locked on her daughter, who was crying and trying to wrestle out of Vance’s grip.

  “Emma.” Cindy tried to crawl forward but Vance’s assistant held her back. “Emma, listen to me. Never displease Vance.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t become like me.”

  “What are you, Cindy?” the Italian sneered.

  Her mother’s eyes never left Emma’s. “Nothing.”

  Vance had pulled Emma out of the room then, held her tightly as she kicked and screamed for her mom, never saying a word until he exited the house and gently handed her over to another man waiting outside.

  “Emma, listen to me.” He was younger then, his Russian accent more pronounced. “Your mother has things to do now. You will come with me for a bit.”

  She punched a small fist into his face, and he laughed.

  “She has fight. I like her.”

  The memory flooded over Emma now, twenty years later. Tears had leaked from her eyes, dampening her pillow.

  That is what you’ll get if you leave, she told herself. That is what’ll happen to you, to Isaac. It’s safer to stay under Vance’s rule and try to work your way up, no matter what you have to do, no matter how much you want to leave with Isaac.

  Ignoring the wetness by her head, she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

  —-

  As Isaac maneuvered his way through Redborough’s city streets, he set his phone’s GPS for Slade Avenue. Might as well scope out that storefront Vance is interested in for money laundering. Nothing else to do.

  He drove, thoughts awhirl, until he found himself cruising down the empty street he’d been searching for. His eyes trailed over broken down apartment buildings built too close together, their windows boarded up. Isaac glanced back and forth to get his bearings. Movement to his left caught his attention. A heavyset man was pulling on the leash of a small dog, yanking it along the sidewalk by its throat while it scrambled to stand. Without a second thought, Isaac cranked his wheel to the left and spun his car around on the narrow street. His car’s front tires came to rest on the sidewalk after jumping the curb.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a calm voice as he exited the vehicle. His heart was pounding again. He knew he was worked up over his feelings for Emma, but his mind was itching for any kind of fight to release some of his pent up frustration.

  “What?” The other guy stood with a dumbfounded yet annoyed expression on his face.

  “I asked you what you think you’re doing. To the dog.”

  The man sneered and his body relaxed. “What’s it look like? I’m walkin’ it.” He was Isaac’s height, and sported a large beard and beer gut that strained against his tattered coat.

  Standing by his car, Isaac frowned. “Looked more like you were hurting—”

  “Fuck you. It’s my dog, I’ll teach it how to obey however I feel like.” The burly man turned his back on Isaac quickly, kicking the animal as he did so. “Move it, you little bitch.”

  Isaac opened his car’s rear door. “Let the dog go,” he warned, the red baseball bat he kept in his backseat now firmly in his grip. He looked up and down the street, but no one else was nearby, and it was unlikely there were any cameras in this part of town. The other man ignored him and pulled the dog’s leash once more, causing the creature to tumble to its side with a choked yelp. It was the last thing he did before the barrel of Isaac’s bat connected with the side of his kneecap with a nasty crunching noise.

  The man fell to the concrete with a howl of pain, but was quickly silenced when Isaac stepped behind him and pulled the bat against his throat. Adrenaline shot through Isaac as he yanked the bat toward his own body, cutting off the man’s airflow.

  “If I ever see you again,” he growled, “I won’t leave you breathing.” He released his hold and the man fell forward, gasping for breath. Breathing through clenched teeth, Isaac flipped his bat around in his hands, then jabbed the knob into the back of the man’s skull, causing him to topple to his side and lay still. Isaac looked around the dark street and spotted the long rope the man had been using for a dog leash sticking out from between two bushes.

  “Hey there, buddy,” he said to the green leaves in a high voice. “You okay? Hmm?” The dog ceased its whimpering at the sound of his voice and poked its snout out to sniff the air. Isaac extended his hand, fingers curled, and the dog slowly crawled forward. A quick moment passed in which he thought the dog would turn and run from him, but instead, a small, pink tongue darted out and licked his knuckles, and he laughed. “Wanna come with me, little guy?” Isaac picked up the dog’s leash and stood, then took a few steps back toward his car. “Yeah?” Its mouth dropped open and a long pink tongue lolled out. The dog started to follow Isaac, who looked back over his shoulder at th
e fallen man to ensure he still wasn’t moving.

  When the duo reached Isaac’s car, he opened his back door and bent down, gingerly wrapping his hands around the dog’s middle. He froze as the dog’s teeth closed around two of his fingers, then relaxed as he realized it was only playfully gnawing on his skin. Isaac lifted the dog’s medium frame up and into the back seat and chuckled as it bounded back and forth on the leather. He shed his jacket and wrapped it around his bat, then tossed it into the trunk. Finally, he shut the back door and slid behind the wheel, and aimed his car back the way he came.

  —-

  Emma was beginning to drift off when her buzzer sounded. She sat up in shock.

  She trudged through her kitchen and pressed a little square button on her intercom. “Who is it?”

  “Just me.” Her stomach leapt at Isaac’s voice, and for a moment she thought she’d been wrong this whole time, until he said, “I’m so sorry. I forgot my cell.”

  Figures, she thought. “Oh, just a sec.” She buzzed him in. While she waited for him to arrive, Emma checked the dining room, kitchen, bathroom and couch for Isaac’s phone, but couldn’t find it. Confused, she pulled on her sweats and opened her front door, stepping into the hallway without bothering to put shoes on. The carpet tickled the soles of her feet as she walked forward and reached the elevator just as it slid open to reveal Isaac with a large, full grin on his boyish face. “Hey,” she said. “I looked for your phone but...holy shit!” Her eyes had moved downward when they noted movement by his legs. She saw a tan and white dog with large brown eyes busily licking the side of his pant leg.

  “I figured you’d be scared after the movie, so I found you a friend. Considering, you know, you’ve wanted a dog since you were like, born.”

  Emma couldn’t contain her excitement, and she practically squealed as he stepped out of the elevator toward her. Her hands instantly went to scratch behind the dog’s ears, and she giggled as it licked her arm. “Are you joking? I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

  “Nope, he’s yours. Wait.” He picked the dog up with a grunt. “She. She’s yours.” Emma flung her arms around his neck and, unable to contain her love for him, kissed his cheek, his minute stubble from the day coarse against her lips.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Doesn’t have one yet.” He looked at her warmly. “Wanna go inside and pick one for her? If you’re too tired, that’s okay,” he added quickly.

  “No, come on. She needs a name.” Emma took Isaac’s free hand and all but yanked him back through her front door.

  The leashed dog followed close behind, sniffing the air as they entered her apartment. Her tail began to wag and she wandered off to explore, nose to the ground.

  “What kind is she? How old?” Emma asked as she watched every move the dog made.

  “Well, she’s definitely a pit bull. Young. She’s got huge paws, hasn’t grown into her body yet.” He pulled out his cell phone and tapped the screen.

  “Forgot your phone, my ass,” Emma joked and she nudged his hip with hers.

  Isaac grinned, flipped through a few more images, then turned the screen so she could see. “I’d say about six months old, based on these photos.”

  “What are we going to feed her tonight?”

  “Hmm.” Isaac looked back down at his phone for a moment. “It says on a couple sites that some white rice and chicken should be good.”

  “Okay.” She smiled at him. “Start cooking, mister. We’ll think up names as we make her dinner.”

  The two of them moved around her kitchen together, each calling out names as they prepped and cooked the food, stopping constantly to check on Emma’s new pet.

  Isaac sat on the kitchen counter, toying with his phone as the food cooked, and finally looked up. “What about Laska?” He pronounced it carefully, using an ah for the first a.

  Emma looked at the dog grinning up at her as she contemplated the name. “Laska,” she repeated. “What’s it mean?”

  “No idea.” Isaac laughed as he put his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. “Just made it up.”

  “Laska.” She tried the name out again. “I like it.”

  A happy silence ensued for a few moments.

  “Isaac?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said before. About how you want to leave this city, get away from Vance.” The scent of the cooking chicken made her stomach growl slightly, regardless of the pizza she’d consumed earlier.

  “You have?”

  “I have. It scares me, though. You know what happens when employees decide to quit. I mean, this isn’t really a business we can easily leave.”

  “Yeah, but we can go anywhere. Between the two of us, I bet we have enough money to live in the middle of nowhere for, I dunno, ever.”

  She nudged the chunk of meat around in its boiling pot of water for a moment, thinking. Visions of Henry’s broken face drifted to mind again. The snap of his fingers. How manic Alex’s expression had been.

  “But what if we get caught?”

  “Emma.” Isaac slid off the counter and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “I’ll always protect you. If you leave with me, get away from this madness, we’ll never have to worry about Vance or his people ever again.”

  Her mother’s voice ran through her mind: Never displease Vance. Alex’s followed: Triple your income.

  “Let me do this final infiltration. Then we’ll talk after.”

  She gently rested a hand on his forearm and looked over her shoulder into his eyes. Just tell him, you dumbass.

  Laska began to whine, and they pulled apart.

  An hour later, Laska had been fed, petted, and walked, and the dog was finally curled up on the rug in Emma’s living room. They had moved her coffee table away from the couch, tickling, rough-housing, and laughing as Laska tumbled around the living room with them. Emma stood quietly and filled a bowl with water, placing it near the wall within the dog’s view, then sat on the couch next to Isaac. She rested her head on his shoulder as they both watched Laska sleep, her side rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Emma felt her eyes begin to droop, her body and mind now exhausted at the excitement of the night. Isaac’s weight shift as he gently put his arm around her.

  “It’s late,” he said quietly. “You must be drained.”

  “Stay with us,” Emma blurted. “It’s almost three in the morning.” She looked up at him, her face close to his. “You’ve got to be tired, too.”

  He looked at her for a silent moment, then his gaze fell on the puppy snoring lightly on the floor. “Yeah. I’ll stay. Wait, you just want me to take her out in the morning.”

  Emma snorted. “Damn right.” She reluctantly stood up. “I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets.”

  As she bundled up her extra comforter into her arms in her bedroom, Emma heard her phone chime.

  It was Alex. I can’t stop thinking about you, the text read. She hesitated. With him showing more interest in her, Emma had become wary. Do I want to keep playing him for better jobs? Or should I back off, really leave with Isaac? She chewed the inside of her cheek a moment before responding.

  Neither can I, she replied with a quick tapping of her thumbs.

  His next message came almost instantly: I want to see you tomorrow.

  Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there, she sent back, then gathered up the comforter, pulled a pillow from her bed, and brought them out to Isaac, who was still watching Laska sleep.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, m’lady. I shall sleep like a king tonight.”

  “Goof,” Emma said with a laugh. “Knock if you need anything.” She bent over and kissed him on the temple. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “Mmmhmm,” came his only reply as he looked away and busied himself with arranging the blankets on her couch.

  Emma released an inward sigh. Enough with the affection, idiot.

  “Night.” She walked awa
y from him toward her bedroom, stopping only to softly stroke Laska’s fur.

  “Night, Emma.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dean Slatter entered the empty restaurant, smiling at the sound of Emma’s squeal. Alex noticed the district attorney’s eyes boldly focused on the low neckline of her cobalt dress as she walked toward him. The room was brightly lit, the overhead lights casting a soft white illumination across a handful of round, precisely set tables. Emma reached the DA and instantly flung her arms around his tall frame, planting a soft, tantalizing kiss on his clean shaven cheek, centimeters from the corner of his mouth. The man hugged Emma back, keeping his arms around her waist longer than was appropriate. Alex’s stomach flipped.

  “Come on.” She took the DA’s hand and lead him to where Alex stood with Marcus. Slatter waved over his shoulder at two guards, who followed behind, silent and watchful.

  “I appreciate the meeting.” Slatter nodded as they approached. “She’s a tempting one, isn’t she?”

  Alex managed a smile and shook hands with the man. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.” He gestured behind him. “This is my colleague, Marcus. Please, have a seat.”

  Slatter pulled out a chair next to their table and guided Emma into it with a hand on the small of her back. She winked, letting her fingers trail along Slatter’s arm. Alex looked away. She’s only doing her job. Marcus took his place behind him, crossing his muscled, tattooed arms in front of him. Once the DA had seated himself, Alex began.

  “It isn’t a secret the Acerbi family has been trying to connect with you, and that you have continuously denied cooperation with them. Vance’s business controls this city, however, bringing a good deal of revenue to Redborough.”

  Slatter looked over at Emma. “Do you need anything? Are you thirsty?”