by Marie Wathen
The three of us focus our attention on the white sheet, peppered with what appears to be more blood and five words drawn with a tube of lipstick, Next time, your whore dies!
Turning to look at me, Zeke asks, “Who’s the whore?”
I glance from the words written on top of the mattress up to Bales’ nearly black eyes. As his partner asks this question, I think back over the past two years of their employment with me and remember all the times that I witnessed Bales’ eyes filled with longing while he stared at Lourdes. If she had anything to do with Angel’s accident then I’m certain that he is an accomplice.
Choosing my words carefully, I answer, “Lourdes is delusional. There have been no other women. Her jealousy is unwarranted and she alone is what ruined our relationship. This is her acting out, like the spoiled bitch that she is, because I ended it. However,” I pause to look between the two bodyguards, “I want to know what innocent woman she hurt before and has plans on killing next time. I’d also like to know how she could have gone unnoticed while breaking into my secured house. She returned her key, but I don’t trust her for shit, so I had the locks changed. Where is her guard?”
Neither men blink, but it’s Zeke who speaks first, “She moved back into Mr. Kennedy’s house while you were away. She had a run in with Jackson, her personal bodyguard, and he quit two days ago. The boss had me assign her a new guy, but there was a twelve hour time gap where she was unattended. As far as the woman…”
“Angel,” Bate supplies, his eyes glancing toward the blood red message on the bed before scanning the rest of the destruction, and his jaw clenching uncontrollably. The agony shreds me, hearing this. “Lourdes thought that you were fucking Decks’ woman.” His attention moves back to me, accusingly. I force down my need to rip his fucking head off. “I tried to convince her that she was mistaken, but she assured me that you were cheating and that Angel was throwing herself at you. I told her that all the times when I was around you both that she was always a proper lady. It just pissed her off more.”
“Jesus,” I bark, “An innocent woman nearly died because of that reckless bitch. And you two helped her?”
“I swear that I had no idea that she would hurt her, boss. She had me research Angel’s back-story after the first night that they met,” Zeke confesses. “Lourdes hated her from the first moment that she laid eyes on her. I informed her that Angel is clean. Except for being on probation for old drug charges, there is nothing shady about her. It wasn’t good enough for Lourdes though. She instructed me to watch her for any signs of betrayal to Decks’ crew.” Looking directly at me, he adds, “After you met Angel at Holidays, Lourdes wanted full disclosure on every minute that you spent with her. I didn’t tell her shit.” He flicks his eyes toward his partner. Bales misses the indicator, because he is staring directly at me.
“Goddammit, you are my bodyguards. Why am I just now hearing about this bullshit?”
“She threatened my job,” Zeke replies, earnestly. “I have a kid and a leech of an ex-wife who sucks away my paycheck every week as it is. I couldn’t afford getting canned, Lieutenant.” Bales shakes his head, but offers no excuse.
“What does Nelson know of this?”
They look at each other before Bales replies with a touch of anger, “She went to him months ago crying about you screwing around with some whore, who…infected you. Nelson didn’t give a damn about her claim. He told her that she needed to accept that a man will fuck whomever he wants, whenever he wants, and that if she wanted a life with you that she better get used to it. Fucking asshole.”
I can’t help it, I chuckle at the insanity behind Nelson’s idea and Bales blinded love for someone so malicious. Moving away from them, I mumble, “This is fucked up.”
“Boss…” Zeke starts, but his voice trails off when I pin him with a heated glare.
“We’re done here.” My eyes shift to Bales. “I don’t need you anymore. Go back to Nelson, or Lourdes, I don’t really give a shit which one. But as far as I’m concerned, your betrayal ends your jobs with me.” Both men look pissed off, but neither one dare say a word. “Be happy that I’m nothing like that murderous bitch that you’ve been protecting while you kept all of this from me.”
After leaving my house and my stunned ex-bodyguards behind, I head to the St Regis hotel. My house and my city apartment won’t offer the protection that I need now that Lourdes has crossed this line. One that I will ensure that bitch pays for. Locking the door behind me, I call Max, letting him know the details of what just went down. As a deterrent to more psycho bullshit that Lourdes may have planned for me, he sends over a couple of uniformed officers to secure the lobby and back parking area. Even with added protection, I know that it will be a restless night.
My mind is on overdrive with all this things left to come. If everything goes according to plan, tonight could be my last in the city that I’ve grown up in. It is definitely my final night of being an associate of the X’kapz cartel. Tomorrow, I face Decks and Angel. When all is said and done, the posh lives that the three of us have known for so long will be nothing more than a memory. Whether I am happy, or not, about the offer that I must make, which is handing Angel over to Decks’, I will be the man who provides Angel with a better life, away from this deadly world. It is the only thing left that I can do.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
My fisted hand hovers over the black lacquer front door of Decks’ house. A tremor shoots through me, and I swallow hard against the baseball-size lump moving into my throat. My nerves are on edge, but not because of the task that lies ahead. I’m on emotional overload thinking about facing Angel again. A part of me doesn’t ever want to stop loving her, and would rather be blind than to see her with him. But, she is with him, and no amount of wishing and wanting will change anything. I must be strong, stronger than I’ve ever been before. No matter what the beauty, who stole my heart, says or does, I must remember that I have people to protect. Getting Decks to join me is more important than knowing why she ran away, and left me with a deadness that I didn’t know was possible.
With a few knocks and a long, annoying press on the doorbell, the front door is jerked open. And there she is, looking as beautiful as she did the very first moment that I saw her. My heart detonates with overwhelming loss. We had a time, a blip, in the span of this never-ending cycle of life, but it wasn’t meant to last more than that brief moment. I know now that she was never really mine, even when it felt like she was everything.
Barefaced fury, bending down the corners of her luscious lips, bursts into a breathtaking smile as she scans over me. Angel’s silvery-grey eyes, lit with something like love, connect with mine. Something deep inside her engaging eyes and within that smile grabs a hold of me, and it pisses me off. This is one of her real smiles, but I know that it isn’t for me. Part of me never wants to see her smiling again. Is she so happy to be back with Decks that she doesn’t give a damn how much losing her hurts me? She never loved me. My whole body goes rigid with anger, the only emotion present after that understanding. The pulse of my torment is pounding like acidic nails piercing through me, crucifying the last remnants of our happy memories together. Like always when it comes to us, she always gets what she wants. She belongs to him, and I’m done.
Securing my bitterness toward both of them, I distract my attention away from her, looking inside the house. With no emotions, I ask, “Is Decks here?” She doesn’t answer immediately and my rage skyrockets.
Seconds, or maybe minutes, pass before I force my eyes back down, looking at her once more. This time I am totally unable to disguise my revulsion. If looks could harm a person, she reacts as though I just backhanded her across the face. The door offers her a source of balance and she grips it like she will fall away without its stability. A tiny voice in my head urges me to help her, save her, or just stop being a dick and love her again, but I refuse to go down that one-way dead-end road for a second time. She will never love me, and I was foolish to give her my he
art. My nails drive into the palms of my hands so fiercely that I feel the skin splitting from the force of it and I know that there is sure to be blood dripping soon.
A decision is made during her scrutiny of my hateful manner assuring me that indeed our time has passed. She is rooted with indifference. With a soft voice, she offers, “He’s not feeling well.” Her lashes lower and she stares down at her bare feet. My gaze travels up her long legs, roaming over her perfect body, noting the familiar sleep shorts and tank that she wore multiple times in my bed, the same ones that I stripped away from her body before making love to her each night. Apparently, she has just awoken and from the looks of her disheveled hair and puffy eyes, she didn’t get much sleep. After a deep breath, she says, “You can come in and see for yourself. He didn’t sleep well so he’s still in bed.”
She’s been in his fucking bed, my mind reels. A red haze of wrath forces me forward, climbing the stairs quickly so that I can get the hell away from her before I do or say something that we will both most definitely regret. I don’t even hesitate when I enter Decks’ room to get his attention. The door slams loudly behind me, and Decks jolts up, his eyes jittery and his face pasty white.
“What the hell is your problem?” he whines, shifting the side of his face back down into the flat pillow, one eye peeking out and trying to focus on me.
Observing his lethargic state, oil-slick hair glued to his forehead, and red-rimmed eyes, I disregard his question and ask, “Are you sick?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles with a slight head nod, wiping a shaky hand down his face. “But, I’ll be all right. And I’ve got Angel to thank for surviving the night.”
Trying my best to ignore his comment about her, I stand at the edge of his bed and say, “Good, because we need to talk. Can you get out of bed? I don’t want to do this with her here.”
“What are you talking about?” He glances toward the door. “Her? Do you mean Angel?”
“Exactly, so…can you?”
He shifts to sit up, but falls back again, the back of his head slamming against the pillow. Clearly, he is too weak to do anything except lay down. “That would be a no,” he pants heavily, totally drained from that miniscule movement.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I will have no tolerance if his ailing is because of Ryske sampling.
“Nothing,” he lies, staring straight into my eyes and not flinching. “Get on with explaining why you are here, and what has you wigging out.”
“All right then, I guess you’re leaving me no choice. We’ll do this shit here,” I concede, glaring once more at the door before stalking over to the other side of the room. “I’m going to talk. You’re going to listen. In about two minutes you will have a big decision to make. FYI, I’m not leaving this house until you choose the right one, so keep that in mind before you respond.”
“Dude, am I missing something? I haven’t seen you in weeks and now you’re coming up into my house demanding shit. I don’t have a clue what you’re bitching about. This new weirdness that you have going on is off-putting.” I snort at his use of such an apt description of how I feel. Everything inside me is kinking into a thousand coils–funny how that works when everything else around me is unraveling at the seams.
Calming myself as I sit with my hands clasping together, I inhale and exhale loudly. Then I begin telling him about my plan. Exactly two minutes later, I am glaring at the face on my watch and repeating my slow breathing process before I return my gaze up to his.
“You’re sure that they will guarantee me full exoneration, even for the murder?” His nearly black eyes meet mine cynically.
“That’s what I said. We must work with the feds to bring that bastard to justice. I’m not doing it without your help, but you need to understand that I refuse to let you turn down this offer. Nelson is a sick fuck who needs to rot in prison for his betrayal to our parents. You know that I’m right.”
He studies me for a minute, putting all the players and pieces together before he asks, “Are you already working with someone?”
Keeping him from knowing my real job is all part of today’s illusion. I can’t give away everything until Nelson is in custody and everyone I care about is in a secured location. “I know a guy,” I offer, and he rolls his eyes at the dated cliché. A miniscule and painful-looking smile extends across his parched lips, and I mirror it smugly.
Before responding, he cuts his eyes toward the sealed door longingly. I know what’s coming. It takes everything in me not to protest against his request. I bite down so damn hard on my tongue that the copper mixing with my saliva stings against the wound. Just like in my role as the second in command, I become the master manipulator and slide the pawns into their appropriate slots on this wacked out real life game of chance.
Forcing a smile, I ask, “You want to take her with us? Do you think that’s wise?”
“I owe it to her,” he replies, shaking his head, his eyes falling to the sheet draping around his stomach. “After everything…” his voice trails off and a bleak shadow invades his briefly happy facade. I don’t want to know what the hell he is rambling on about, so I change the subject.
“I attended Wise’s funeral last week.”
An intake of breath fills the space between us and then his Adam’s apple bobs wildly in his throat. “I totally fucked that whole deal up. It’s all my fault that Juan targeted him. What the hell was I thinking?” The truth is Jude was nearly killed because Arch Bishop uncovered his identity, not because of the seized shipment. However, Decks needs to consider that his hasty decision to execute Juan’s nephew in retaliation because of Angel’s accident is the reason that a member of his elite crew died.
“Your rash decision after promising me that you would wait before you reacted is what I don’t understand,” Before I can launch into a full speech, he cuts me off.
“I get that, but…” he sighs. “After years of not giving a damn about anything that involved the X business, except for getting high with my crew, of course, something changed. I found something that I wanted to change for. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I fell in love with Angel. No one has ever affected me so profoundly. She’s so good, so much better than me, and yet, she doesn’t hold any of my bullshit against me. I don’t think that her feelings are up to par with mine, but there is a foundation. She considers me a friend.” He laughs. “I’ve never been friends with a chick before–crazy shit. Because of her, I found myself wanting to prove to Nelson that I could handle shit. I was no longer going to be his whipping boy. I wanted to prove that I was worthy of her. However, he had other things in mind, like sending me off to the Caribbean to find more stash houses for Juan, effectively locking me in to still doing the grunt work. So, I took a page from our dad’s book and made a decision. I’ve been working on a split. Before you say anything, I know my uncle’s history speaks for itself when it comes to defectors, but I am sick of his oppressive hand. The opportunity is ripe with possibilities, Blues. We could shut him down and then rise up with one powerful motherfucking alliance. You know some of the old dicks would switch sides with us if we destroy him. And then, we would hold all of the cards.”
“I can see how we bring him down, but what makes you think that we could form a new cartel. Our revolution will annihilate every contract.”
“Not everyone…” His face tilted downward, he peeks at me with guilty eyes.
“What do you have lined up?”
He hesitates answering for several moments. Finally, he exhales and looks me straight in the face. Assessing him, like I would an informant during an interrogation, I see his decision settle on his face as if it were written in permanent marker. He lies, “Nothing is set in stone. So, if you are serious about narking on dear old Uncle Fucktard then I guess witness protection and the straight and narrow are our futures instead.”
“Decks, if you are withholding anything this shit isn’t going to work. I need you signing on one hundred percent.”
“As long as I have Angel, I’ll commit everything to sticking it to his ass.”
“I get that you believe you’re falling for her.” He corrects me by changing my observation to past tense, and I exhale while pushing a hand through my hair. “This demand to bring her along is only creating more options for collateral damage. We will get him, but he has a mighty reach that will extend beyond a maximum security prison. She is a liability.”
Growling, he demands, “She’s with me. It is not up for debate.”
“Why?” I ask exasperatingly, slamming my back against the chair and thumping my clenched fist on the armrest.
“I owe her,” he repeats his excuse from earlier. His tone is rigid and his determination is firmly set. Doubtful that he really intends to follow through with whatever debt he has with her, I grunt. Seeing my skepticism, he explains, “She nearly died because of me.”
My eyes narrow on him. “What do you mean?”
“My freaking psycho sister ran her off the goddamn road and left her for dead on the side of the fucking mountain, Blues.” My suspicions are correct.
“How do you know this?” Rising, I pace over to stand in front of him so that I can study his expression as he answers.
“Yesterday afternoon, I came home to find Lourdes and Angel going at it. It was crazy, and they were so into it that they didn’t notice that I was standing twenty feet away. When I caught up with what they were discussing it became blatantly obvious that my sister has been up to some shady shit. She tipped off the cops about Juan’s shipment. She let me believe that Juan retaliated by going after Angel. And I’m certain that she knew ahead of time that Wise was undercover. If so, then…” His words turn into a depressing groan. He chews on the inside of his cheek while glancing down at his hands fisting on his lap, and trying to get his breathing under control. “I love Angel, Blues, and I will do anything for her. So, if I go, she goes.”
