Grim Ambition

by Jennifer Reinfried

  "Look, I'm sorry." Jaxon said. "Something fucked up happened and I didn't know how to process it. I was scared, and I wanted to forget it. I shouldn't have dragged you guys down with me."

  "Something fucked up? What do you mean?"

  A soft knock sounded at the open bedroom door, interrupting them. "I brought you some ice water, Shawn." He listened as Cassie set a glass on the small table by his bed.

  "Thanks."

  "Jaxon?” she said. “Can I talk to you?"

  "Sure. Shawn, man, get some sleep, okay? We'll talk tomorrow before Dad shows up."

  Shawn nodded and listened to them as they closed the door behind them. He massaged his temples and yawned. His mind tried to replay the flashback, but he smothered it angrily. It had been so realistic: drops of blood had spattered on his face while his mother had been torn apart. He reached down and touched his pants. Thank God I didn’t truly wet myself. He stood and went to brush his teeth.

  Thirty minutes later, Shawn lay awake, eyes open, breathing slow. His house was quiet. The spins had subsided greatly. He sat up to drink from the glass of water Cassie had brought him. As he did, he heard his cell ring at the side of his bed. He frowned and fumbled for his phone.

  "Hello?"

  "Shawn? Is this Shawn?" A deep male voice was on the other end. The quality of the call was poor, and audio artifacts sizzled and cracked.

  "Who is this?"

  "Shawn, listen to me."

  "How did you get this number?"

  "Please, just listen. I need to tell you—"

  "You can't just call me in the middle of the night and—"

  "You're not really blind."

  Shawn felt his insides freeze over. "What did you just say?"

  A sigh sounded in his ear. "You're not blind," the voice said. "They made changes, thought they could improve your sight, but they fucked up. Then people died, and you were left alone, unable to see.” A pause. “But you've found a way around that, haven't you?"

  Shawn’s stomach leaped. "What the hell is this about?"

  "I know you have questions. I can't have this call traced, though. My time is too short to explain. I can help you see again with your own two eyes, but you have to trust me."

  "Why would you help me? You don't even know me."

  The man laughed. "Yes I do. Listen, we need you to—"

  A burst of harsh static flared in his ear, and the line went dead. Shawn let out a shuddering breath and used the voice command to redial the last number that called. Before the phone reached his ear, however, he could hear the tones through the cell that signaled an error, then a voice spoke: We’re sorry, but the number you have dialed is invalid. Please check the number and try again.

  Shawn sat in silence in his dark bedroom, wide awake and terrified.

  Chapter Eight

  Shawn woke with a start. His eyes flew open, which his brain instantly regretted as a sharp ache slammed into his skull. He squinted and raised a hand to block the bright light that shone on his face from a crack in his bedroom blinds. Slowly, Shawn lifted his head and sat up, wincing. He stretched his shoulders, then his back, then his stiff, sore neck. I’m never drinking again, he told himself, his mind still in a sleep addled daze.

  Shawn swung his legs over the edge of his bed. He began to stand, then instantly sat back down when his head swam. Son of a bitch. Blind and hungover is always a trip. He remembered the glass of water Cassie had brought him and reached out slowly, his fingers coming into contact with the wooden end table. When he touched the sleek screen of his cell phone, he paused. The conversation with the mysterious caller played through his mind again.

  I’m not really blind? My sight can be restored? Impossible. Shawn slid his fingers past his cell and picked up the glass. Chugging three mouthfuls of the lukewarm water, he thought, It was just a prank call. I’ve been blind since birth, just like Bruce said.

  “Shawn?” Jaxon’s voice filtered up the stairs.

  “Yeah, be right down.” He stood, still slightly off balance, and groaned. I didn’t even have that much. He recalled the hallucination at the club, but forced his mind to think of finding his way downstairs, one step at a time.

  Comforting darkness gave way to light that brightened to a painful glare as he made his way downstairs. “Jax?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m never drinking again.”

  “Quit reading my mind, dude.”

  “Is Cassie still asleep?” Shawn reached the bottom of the steps and simply leaned against the wall, bare feet chilled on the tile floor.

  “Uh.”

  “What?” Shawn asked.

  “We were on the couch, talking. I must have passed out. Cassie’s not here.” He paused. “Her purse is gone. She must have left.”

  “Oh well. More food for us.” Shawn grinned and pushed away from the wall, moving into the kitchen.

  “I should call her. Make sure she got home.”

  “She’s fine, Jax.” He maneuvered to the counter of the kitchen’s island and lowered himself onto one of his backless bar stools.

  “Do you think those men last night were following us?”

  Shawn laughed, even though the same thought had crossed his mind in the bar. “What? No. Honestly, it was coincidental. They never came to the club, right?”

  “True.”

  “I think we’re all just too on edge right now, man.” Shawn swiped a hand over his face. “God, I need some juice.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the first carton his fingers touched.

  “Disgusting. How are you hungover, anyway? I’d figure with your accelerated healing, you’d be fine.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think it was just from the booze.”

  “Yeah, what was up with last night?”

  Shawn produced two glasses. He felt along the carton and twisted its cap off. “To be completely honest, Jax, I’ve been having some issues with my eyesight. And not just the lack of it.” He poured juice into a glass and held it out in his brother’s direction.

  “Oh God.” Jaxon’s gag was audible. “Keep that away from me. I might puke.”

  “What’s wrong with orange juice?” Shawn took a sip of the sweet liquid.

  “I’m too hungover, man. Even the smell is making me nauseous.”

  “You mixed a ton of beer with shitty tequila and who knows what else. Just throw some orange juice into the mix. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Shawn held the glass out again, smirking.

  “Ass. I need a shower and some Advil, not juice.” Jaxon’s voice moved out of the living room and into the kitchen. “So what’s wrong with your vision? And why haven’t you told me before?”

  “Because you worry too much. And when you worry too much, you yell at me.”

  “Do not.”

  “Right. Exhibit A: yesterday morning.”

  “You went alone into a group of Vance’s men. All were armed with automatic weapons. You could have been killed, and that’s plenty for me to get pissed about. You’re my best friend. Do you know how fucking torn up I would be if you died trying to singlehandedly take down Redborough’s crime ring? Or died in general?”

  “I get it, I do. But someone has to stop them.”

  “And who better to do it than you? I know. But you never think before you act, Shawn.”

  “I just run in blind.” He laughed.

  Jaxon sighed. “Tell me what’s going on with your vision.”

  “I can’t tell if it’s a side effect of using the lenses or not. I keep having these weird black spots on the edge of my sight. I figured I’d just see how it progressed or if it just went away, but last night it got...bad.”

  “Bad how?”

  “I had this, I don’t know, vision.”

  “Of what?”

  “My mother. When I was a kid. But Bruce said I’ve been blind since birth.”

  “Well, true, but what if your medical records were wrong?”

  Shawn rubbed his neck with one hand. “So what, the orphan
age lied?”

  “I mean, neither of us remember our childhood before that place.”

  “I don’t even remember being there.”

  “Neither do I. But Dad said it was soon after everyone was killed in that accident at his work back in the nineties.”

  “And?”

  “And what I’m getting at is, between the deaths of your parents, of my mom, the accident that killed them, my dad being contacted and brought all the way across the country to pick up a child he didn’t even know he had, maybe things got a little hectic and someone fucked up your records.”

  Shawn’s brow furrowed. “I suppose. But you said the information about my eye implants was on them. How could they get that right, but not know how or when I was blinded?”

  “I don’t know, but Dad wouldn’t lie to us. You know he loves you, even if you’re not his son by blood.”

  “Of course I know that. I still don’t get why he adopted me from that place when he was there to pick you up. You’re his real son.”

  “Ask him.”

  Shawn shook his head and finished his juice. “I prefer to just look ahead. His explanation is enough.”

  “That I wouldn’t stop clinging to you and he found out you didn’t have any family coming to adopt you and felt bad?”

  “Bruce is a caring guy.”

  “I know. But if you ask him, I’m sure he’ll talk about it, Shawn.” Jaxon paused. “Is that all that’s going on? You really seemed fucked up last night.”

  Shawn attempted a smile. “I just couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Being in that club, all the people bumping into me, the flashes of light...I got a little freaked out. Dizzy, you know? Then the booze came up.”

  “I’m sorry for the tequila.”

  “And the whiskey?”

  “Nah.” Jaxon laughed.

  Shawn opened his mouth to say more, then closed it. Do I tell him about the prank call? He contemplated how his brother would react. He’ll just freak out. It was nothing. If the person calls back again, though, I’ll tell him.

  “I’m going to use the guest bathroom, okay? Since yours is covered in vomit water.” Jaxon moved toward the stairs.

  “Jax.”

  His brother stopped moving.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “The hell does that mean?”

  Shawn shrugged. “You know what I mean. What’s going on with you?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing, dude. Don’t bullshit me like that.” Shawn turned to face him. “Is it your nightmares? Is it Cassie? Me?”

  His brother laughed. “All three, rolled up in one big ball of stress. Yeah, I guess it is all of that. But you don’t have to worry. You’re not the only one who’s strong.”

  “Jax, I know. You can talk to me. I’m around. When I’m not taking out criminals, I’m here.”

  An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Shawn started toward his brother, then jumped as a loud buzz echoed throughout the house, sending his heart into a sudden dance.

  “Fuck.” Jaxon turned away from the stairs and walked back the way he came. “Dad’s here.”

  “What? What time is it?”

  “Almost one.” There was a scrambling noise as his brother peered through the blinds. “Yep, he’s here.” A softer buzzing sounded as he pushed the button on the intercom to unlock the front gate. “He’s got six bags. He always buys too much food.”

  “Jax...”

  “Gee, yeah, let’s tell Dad I’m having nightmares and you’re having issues with your vision. Come on. We’re adults, we can figure out our problems on our own. No need to stress my dad out.”

  Shawn held up his hands as if to say okay, you win then made his way forward. He heard the front door open.

  “Hey, Dad.” Jaxon’s voice held warmth.

  “Hey, kid.” Shawn couldn’t see him, had never seen him in person, but knew from photos his adoptive father’s brilliant shock of white hair would be shining in the sunlight, eyes identical to his son’s sparkling as he grinned, a well-manicured hand adjusting his glasses. Not for the first time in his life, Shawn wished he could see without the aid of his mask.

  “Look out, man.” Jaxon moved past him, bags rustling.

  “Shawn!” Bruce’s voice came closer. “Good to see you again, son.” He was pulled into a tight hug, which he returned with a grin.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Bruce.”

  “Whoa, you look awful. You feelin’ okay?”

  “Yeah. Well, no. I mean, I’m feeling better than before.”

  “Are you sick, or is this a self-induced illness?” Bruce chuckled. “Jaxon, you too? You look like worse shit than Shawn.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Come on, I’ll cook. First one to puke gets a shot of tequila.” Shawn’s stomach heaved at the mention of the liquor, and his brother groaned. Bruce laughed loudly and walked into the kitchen. “No, wait.” He coughed. “For the love of God, please go shower first. Both of you. I can’t even find words to describe what you smell like right now.”

  —-

  Alex’s instructions to Isaac had been clear: meet him at the Imperial Dragon on Thanksgiving at seven sharp that night. The restaurant’s large basement had been one of many establishments set up to manufacture some of the illegal drugs that they distributed throughout the city. Alex had told Isaac he’d initiated business with a new producer, and he and Marcus would be there to ensure its quality before they released it on the streets. If given their seal of approval, Isaac was to move the product to the Head of Narcotics for distribution while they stayed behind to discuss the future of their business with the new overseer.

  Having walked from his apartment, Isaac arrived fifteen minutes early. He stood in the cool night, breathing in the tantalizing smells of the Imperial Dragon. Of course Alex makes me wait outside. Maybe Emma and I can grab some dinner after this. He sighed, his breath making an appearance in front of his face as a subtle puff of white.

  Isaac glanced up as a black SUV pulled into view and parked halfway down the block. A dark van pulled up behind the truck. Its headlights turned off but the engine was kept on. Alex’s driver, Nate, exited the first vehicle, buttoned his dark blue suit coat, and walked around to the sidewalk. He stood with his back to the passenger side, his head a constant, slow swivel as he took in the surroundings. No other movement came from the truck, and Isaac pushed off the wall, confused. He, too, moved his eyes around the dark areas that surrounded him as he walked. When he reached Nate, he nodded.

  “How’s it going?” Isaac stuck his hand out.

  “Fantastic.” The driver smiled warmly as they shook. “You?”

  “Oh, you know, just keeping up appearances.” He nodded his head toward the vehicle behind Nate. “Isn’t Alex with you?”

  “He is. He’ll be along shortly.”

  “I don’t—” A loud thump sounded from the vehicle, and the door shuddered. Isaac frowned, his eyes suddenly hard as he shot a concerned look at Nate. “Is he with Emma? Is he hurting her?” Isaac reached forward, his hand outstretched, intent on pulling the back door open, when he felt the driver’s hand flat on his chest.

  “This is none of your concern.” Nate gently pushed him back with his palm. His face exuded concern but also a warning.

  “The hell it isn’t,” Isaac shot back.

  “She’s fine, kid. He isn’t hurting her. Trust me.”

  The vehicle rocked slightly, and this time, Isaac heard a muffled giggle. He felt his stomach drop at the sound, and his face hardened. He took a step back.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

  “Why don’t you just wait where you were?” Nate offered. “Like I said, Alex’ll be along in a moment.”

  Isaac turned without a reply. His hands clenched into fists at his side, and he stalked away from the SUV with long, angry strides. When he reached the entrance to the restaurant he paused. His heart was a steady thump thump thump tha
t rattled his ribs and caused his breath to come out in angry huffs. He wanted to take off, run away from the now nauseating smells of the Chinese food that wafted out onto the street, away from the passion taking place behind him, away from his feelings for Emma that were constantly being crushed as her relationship with the other man continued. And you were going to give her your grandmother’s ring. What were you thinking? That she was going to just throw her arms around you and let you whisk her away, marry you in some small, back-of-the-woods church? Fucking idiot.

  Isaac stiffly leaned against the wall once more. He could feel the harsh cold of the bricks on his back, through his light jacket, which brought a bit of clarity to his thoughts.

  You love Emma. You love her more than words can describe, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. If she’s going to stay with Alex, you need to accept it and move forward. Isaac forced himself to not look up at the SUV again.

  As he fumed in the chill of the night, Isaac told himself that he would try to discuss her mistake of trusting Alex one last time, and if he couldn’t get her to understand, he’d force himself to leave the city, hide away on his own, somewhere he couldn’t be found. Vance might attempt to track him down, but Isaac could drop off the grid easily.

  His anger had just begun to simmer when Isaac heard the click of a car door. He turned his frustrated gaze to his left just in time to see Alex exit the SUV. The man nodded once at Nate then said something Isaac couldn’t hear as he tugged on the sleeves of his suit coat. Alex turned and glanced at his reflection in the vehicle’s window, trailing fingers through his dark hair. Isaac looked away to stare across the cold, dark, empty street. Moments later he heard crisp footsteps approaching, and he felt his body tingle as a flicker of adrenaline bounced through his chest. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to act naturally when Alex reached him, but he only had seconds to calm his nerves and get into character.

  “Good evening,” the older man said as he reached the entrance.

  “Hey.” Isaac forced his lips to stretch into a smile as he nodded at Alex. “We ready to do this thing?”

  “Nearly. Marcus should be inside already. He and I will make sure the quality of the product is to our standards. If we’re satisfied, we will give you an address to—”