“Yes, of course.”
The stop by Whitfield Manor had been Kingston’s first objective for the day, to sit down with his father. Now, they were in Daniel Whitfield’s office, discussing something behind closed doors while I waited. Typically, I used the time to work on Kingston’s schedule, or whatever else he needed, since I worked in a personal assistance capacity for him as well.
The thing about the Whitfields though… if you answered to one, you answered to all. But even if that wasn’t the case, I would always ask “how high?” to any request of Angela’s to see me jump, because she was one of my favorite people in the world.
“Sit down, please,” she said, motioning to a place at the counter where a cup of black coffee was already set up. Hers was at the next seat, and without waiting for me, she made herself comfortable in the bar chair and started adding cream and sugar to it.
I did as she asked, lowering myself into the seat she’d offered, and preparing my coffee using ingredients from the tiny decorative bowls on the counter. Angela watched in silence, not speaking until I’d taken a sip from the luxurious Ospina coffee she brewed – the good stuff, unlike the shit her son kept at his house.
“So,” she started. “My son has mentioned that you’ve seemed a little preoccupied lately. Something on your mind?”
As a stall tactic, I took another sip, savoring it longer than necessary before I shook my head. “No ma’am. Nothing more than the usual.”
“Really? Because… he claims you’ve been off your game.”
My eyes bulged wide. “King said that?!”
Angela lifted a hand. “No, actually, let me amend that. He said you’ve been… paranoid. Which, let’s face it – is a default state for you. But for it to be so obvious that those close to you see a difference…”
Ugh.
I cleared my throat. “I promise you ma’am, my duty to this family is of the utmost im—”
“I don’t need any of that,” Angela interrupted. “I’m well aware of your dedication to us – however unnecessary I may find it. And do not open your mouth to argue.”
Only because she said so, I pressed my lips closed.
The truth was, I barely wanted to accept payment from the Whitfield family for my security services – I’d gladly do it for free because of what Daniel and Angela had pulled me out of. I’d come into their employ by accident, as the spoils of an ill-advised wager. Later, when the gravity of the loss was fully understood, there was friction that could’ve been solved by simply handing me over to my former master.
Angela refused.
Daniel wrote a check.
And then, instead of using me as the carefully honed weapon I’d become after years of investment… they hired a tutor for me. Gave me a room in their home. Treated me not like I was an asset, but a person.
Wherever the Whitfields went, I would follow.
“Anyway, you don’t have to explain yourself sweetie,” Angela said, patting my hand. “It’s clear that whatever is going on, isn’t something you wish to discuss. When you are ready, I’m here. Okay?”
“Yes ma’am.”
A smile spread across Angela’s beautiful face as she pushed her thick, gray-streaked hair behind her ear. I didn’t flinch when she reached out, cupping a hand under my chin.
“You are such a wonderful young woman,” she said, a compliment that brought heat to my cheeks, even as I tried to keep my expression neutral. “I wish I could erase the things that still haunt you.”
I inclined my head. “I don’t.”
She frowned at those words, but those were my honest feelings about it. There had been too much suppression of the past, too much burying of ugly memories – that was why I felt so lost now. Something was missing for me – a big something, that was starting to affect my day to day functions.
I couldn’t let it go. I wouldn’t stop until I figured it all out.
I was saved from having to explain myself to Angela by Kingston’s entrance to the kitchen. Immediately, he went to greet his mother, who we hadn’t seen on the way in, giving her a hug and kiss worthy of his role as a dutiful son.
Only, he wasn’t acting.
As rich and powerful as the family was, their bond was one of authentic love – antithetical to what I’d seen from the many families I interfaced with during my time at the Belrose compound. Betrayal, treachery, disrespect, and hatred were de rigueur among the rich and powerful. I’d been one of their weapons, had beaten, tortured, and manipulated, on the orders of people my victims trusted with their best interests.
And then, I’d been the wielder of revenge.
None of them were innocent.
But with this family, I saw none of that, no matter how hard I looked. God help you if you were an outsider trying to strike a blow, but those weakening jabs never came from within. When I first came into their employ, it baffled me. Now? I credited their dynamic with restoring whatever humanity I had.
I watched, tucking the urge to smile securely into my back pocket as Kingston muttered something to his mother that made her laugh, and playfully swat him away. He turned to me, eyebrows raised, taking in my seated position, and the coffee cup in my hands.
“Are you ready to go? We’re headed to the club next.”
“Of course.” I replaced my coffee cup on the counter and stood, giving Angela the smile I’d tucked away. “Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Whitfield.”
“You are absolutely welcome Alicia. Come by for a cup any time.”
I acknowledged her invitation with a tip of my head, then led the way out to the car. While King seated himself, I communicated our agenda to the driver, and then climbed in beside him, saying nothing as we pulled off.
My silence only lasted as long as I could stand his eyes burning a hole into the side of my head.
“You told your mother I was being unusual?”
He shrugged, giving me a smirk that made me want to slap him. “She asked about you a few days ago. I told her the truth.”
“That I’ve been “paranoid”? That passes as the truth to you?”
“Yeah, it does. Some motherfucker stepped on my shoes at the club the other night, and you hemmed him up like he’d swung on me. You’re tense. On edge.”
“It’s called diligence.”
“No. This is different. You’ve always been on your shit, but you weren’t like this before…”
I narrowed my eyes. “Before… what?”
“You tell me,” King countered, looking me right in the face. “You’ve been edgy… haven’t been sleeping. What’s going on with you? You get your heart broken or something? I gotta whoop somebody’s ass, give them a strong talking-to for playing with your emotions?”
“You know better,” I told him, rolling my eyes.
“Then what?”
“I don’t know!” I snapped, and then immediately regretted, when his eyebrows went up in surprise, even though I’d given him exactly what he wanted. He was an expert at getting underneath a person’s skin.
He ran his tongue over his lips as he tipped his head. “I think… we should put someone else on Asha for tonight’s event. Maybe Kerri.”
“That won’t be necessary.” My tone was cool, collected. The polar opposite of what I felt. “Asha is visibly pregnant, and wearing your ring. She’ll have an even brighter spotlight than usual on her, at an event she doesn’t even care to attend. She’s most comfortable with me, so I should be her primary.”
“I understand that, but—”
“If you understand, then let me do my job,” I insisted. “Please.”
He stared at me for a second before he tipped his head in agreement. “Just don’t let me down.”
“Have I ever?”
“No,” he answered immediately. “But your denial of the obvious aside, we’re sailing in uncharted waters. No one is above making a mistake.”
“I am.” Was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it. Even though I was on his payroll, and technically an em
ployee, when it came to disagreements, there was no real boundary between us there. We could, quite easily, go at it like brother and sister, and I wasn’t in a state of mind to engage that dynamic.
Not when I was well aware that he was correct.
I was tense.
I was agitated.
By visions that despite my best efforts, wouldn’t come in clearly. And I knew better than to be confused by it. My defective remembrance of life before I was sixteen was absolutely by design – the result of my “rosebud” conditioning.
Memories took up valuable storage space in my head – space that had long been better utilized by mission details, fabricated identities, personal information about my targets, and so forth. But, apparently, the lid to one of those boxes had been knocked ajar, allowing splintered recollections to seep through, invading my conscious at inconvenient times.
Wait.
Who was I kidding?
They were inconvenient, period.
Timing aside.
“I know how important she is to you,” was what left my lips, after taking a moment to consider my words. “No harm will come to her. I’ll make sure of it.”
He nodded, scrutinizing me for a moment that may have left a different person squirming. I held his gaze though, with confidence, knowing it was the only thing I had on my side.
“That’s all I ask,” he said finally, offering the words I needed to remain in my expected role. “Now talk to me about the plans for the updated VIP at Dream.”
If I were prone to such things, I would think Asha looked adorable.
Earlier, in private, I’d smiled as soon as I saw her - swollen belly, awkward walk in heels she’d debated wearing, hand pressed absently to her stomach, and a big smile.
It was a marked difference from the woman I’d met nearly two years ago, with a tough exterior that was intensely familiar to me. This woman was happy. So much so that she glowed, and her pregnancy-induced radiance only added to her brilliance.
Watching her with King made my teeth hurt. It wasn’t even that they were all over each other, or anything like that. Because they were so subdued in public, while their connection was so intense, even the little things – like his insistence on being the one to help her out of the car, the proud smirk he wore as he took her arm – seemed like grand displays of romance.
It made me happy for him.
For them.
“Let’s get them inside,” I said, speaking to the other members of the security team, who were on the receiving end on my earpiece. I waited until I had confirmation from everyone before I moved, giving Asha the subtle tap at her elbow to let her know what direction to move in.
She’d rebelled against the idea of security at first, not understanding the need for it, since she was, in her own words, “a nobody”. But as her star grew as a professional poker player, and she and Kingston started being seen together, it became clear. The Whitfields were Black Vegas royalty, and there was a spotlight that came with that title. There were people who had no problem getting aggressive and in her face, wanting to use her to get to him. Once that got through her head, she stopped fighting it.
Once news of her pregnancy broke, she welcomed the cocoon of security.
Inside, King pulled her straight toward the step-and-repeat backdrop for pictures, with the security team right behind them, but mostly out of sight – giving the illusion of accessibility, where there was none. You could take pictures, but not get too close. Wave, but not touch. Yell for attention, in hopes of getting a direct smile, but if anything slick came out of your mouth, it was on.
This ribbon-cutting event for the freshly renovated poker area on Reverie’s casino floor was open to the public, which meant we needed to be on higher alert than normal. I hated the number of moving parts involved with this kind of thing, but it came with the territory, so I had to deal.
As far as I was concerned, I had eyes on everyone. If anybody so much as sneezed within a ten-mile radius of this family, I’d be right there to remind them to direct that shit into the bend of their arm.
Luckily though, it went off without a hitch. Asha cut the ribbon, everybody cheered, and things from there morphed into a party, with an abundance of liquor.
The family split apart to mingle, so the security team did too. I sent my number one – Kerri – with Daniel and Angela, my next two with Kingston and Zora, and kept my newest hire, Chastity, with me, guarding Asha.
We probably had the easiest gig tonight – the people that Asha spoke with were mostly fans, students from her poker lessons, or men who found her fine enough to completely ignore her swollen belly and engagement ring in order to flirt.
Flanking her, Chastity and I simply stood by, pretending we couldn’t hear the conversations. For most people with common sense, our presence was enough to influence them into good behavior. I did have to block a few attempts to touch her stomach- and got cursed out by a few old ladies – but mostly, things were fine.
Until something caught my attention.
It happened in slow motion, or at least that’s what it felt like. One moment I was scanning the crowd, my eyes keenly tuned to spot anything out of place. The next, my gaze locked with someone else’s – someone discordantly familiar.
For those few seconds, time stopped.
I stopped.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink – could only drink in a face so bizarrely similar to mine that my brain could barely process it. The difference though, was in her eyes.
They didn’t hold any light.
It wasn’t until she broke contact that I felt like I had use of my body again. “Wait!” I yelled, drawing way too much attention, but I didn’t care. Something was deeply, unquestionably wrong, and that woman with my face, she had the answers.
I took off in her direction, into the growing throng of gamblers. I could hear a commotion happening in my earpiece, but I tuned it out as my head whipped back and forth, frantically searching for her in the crowd.
I couldn’t lose her again
You shouldn’t have lost her the first time.
I shook my head as frustrated, confused tears welled in my eyes. Knowing it was in vain, I kept looking around, hoping to catch another glimpse as people around me bumped and brushed past me, hurrying to lose their money or get to the buffet.
You failed her.
“Ace, what the fuck?!” I looked up as a hand wrapped around my arm, yanking a bit to get my attention. “You left Asha unsecured?!”
I whipped around, ready to light into whoever had grabbed me, but quickly realized it was Kingston. His harsh words were drawing stares from the crowd.
I pulled away from his grasp, keeping my voice low as I ran a hand over my blouse to smooth the fabric. Anything to appear calm, like my heart wasn’t about to beat out of my chest. “No. Chastity is with her.”
King’s nostrils flared. “Chastity is too scared to be worth a damn. She started crying because you took off without saying anything, leaving her with a high-value client.” He leaned in, glancing around as he lowered his voice even further. “Your ass better have a good explanation.”
I shook my head, blinking back frustrated tears as I took one last desperate visual sweep of the crowd before I turned back to him. “I need to see the security cameras.”
“First, we talk about you abandoning—”
“I need to see the security cameras,” I insisted, not caring that I was interrupting him, or that my voice was shaking. “Now. Please.”
Kingston narrowed his eyes, staring at me for a moment. I could clearly see the anger etched on his face, but that was low on my list of concerns. For now, I needed to see the security footage – everything else I could tend to later.
“Fine,” he said, with no softening of his expression. “Only because Asha is okay. But you better believe we’re gonna talk about this shit.”
Quickly, I nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
The short journey
to the surveillance room was tense, and quiet. Or at least I imagined it was – I was too keyed up about what I’d seen to be troubled about that at the moment.
The surveillance room was a blow to the senses. It laid behind a plain-looking door that required a biometric scan for entry – access a select few employees of Reverie had. On the other side of the door laid a large, circular room, with video monitors lining every inch of the walls. Workers wearing headsets sat at computers that used a special system to communicate with the security staff, and they sat there for hours at a time, watching everything that happened on the casino floor, in the hallways, everywhere a camera could legally touch.
The camera feed I needed was right in the middle.
I quickly relieved the surprised analyst from their chair, navigating the controls to the feed where, five minutes ago, I’d been standing with Asha. I reversed the recording to the moment I took off running, then moved to a different camera angle before I went back a little more. Frantically, my eyes moved over the screen, searching for the face I’d seen in the crowd.
“There,” I whispered, more to myself than anything, even though King was right behind me. “Right there,” I repeated, pushing the chair back as I stood, and pointed to a face that was hauntingly familiar. Goosebumps spread up my bare arms as I stared into a face I instinctively knew.
Even though I didn’t understand why.
“Who the hell is that?” King asked, sounding as confused as I felt. His anger from before was gone, replaced by concern as I shook my head.
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“How the hell does she have your face?” King asked, staring at the photographs I’d spread out over his kitchen counter.
I didn’t answer, because he already knew the answer – that I had no answer. He was just venting. Thinking aloud and asking pointless questions to try to put this together, the same way I was.
I’d asked myself that question a hundred times since we left the event.
My sudden break from protocol had tongues wagging, putting me at the center of attention, which I hated. With everything else going on, I didn’t want or need a bunch of scrutiny, not while things were in limbo for me. Not while I was faced with my long lost… whoever the fuck.
Deuces Wild Page 2
