Book Read Free

Deuces Wild

Page 12

by Christina C Jones


  “Fuck you!”

  “You said that already.” She planted her feet and crouched down, peering at him with one good eye, one fast-swelling one. “You’ve done that already. Now it’s time for business.” She straightened up, kicked him in the thigh where she’d just shot him, and then pointed the gun again. “The next one goes in your hand. After that? Your knee. And then your foot. All those places with teeny tiny bones that bullets disintegrate.”

  “Just tell me what the fuck you wanna know,” Reo growled, helplessly writhing in pain on the floor as Alicia glared down at him.

  “Who hired the Belroses to kill Sebastian Gray?”

  He scoffed. “Nobody. They want him out of here themselves.”

  “Why?”

  “Fuck if I kno—hey!”

  Everybody in the room flinched as another shot went off, leaving a hole in the floor right beside where Reo’s hand had been a moment ago, before he snatched it away.

  “Do not try me, okay?”

  “I really don’t know!” Reo squealed, making Alicia shake her head in disgust.

  “Stop squealing and screaming!” she demanded. “You used to be better than this – you were a king among the Thorns. What happened to you? The drugs? The drinking?”

  “I’m not a Thorn anymore,” he answered, wearing a scowl.

  She shook her head again. “But you killed Brielle for Sebastian Gray. Why?”

  “Because he’s taking them down.”

  “Who?”

  “Sebastian Gray. He’s getting the Belroses out of the game, for good. No more looking over my shoulder, wondering when I’m getting called back. Your ass should be grateful too.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Why? I’ve never looked over my shoulder for them – I was bought out. They have no reason to come for me.”

  Unexpectedly, Reo laughed at that. “Come on, Ace. Baby… you’re smarter than that. They always have a reason to take you back. Even if they “let” you go.”

  “Whatever. Why is Sebastian trying to take down the Belroses?”

  He scoffed. “Why else? Power.”

  “He doesn’t have the resources to go up against the Belrose family. Not alone. Who is he working with?”

  Reo didn’t necessarily refuse to answer the question, but he didn’t open his mouth to say anything either. A scary little smirk crossed Alicia’s bruised face, and the gun went off, and Reo was screaming again, using his good hand to hold the one she’d just put a hole through.

  “I told you not to try me, Reo. You know I don’t bluff, and I am getting bored. Tell me who he’s working with, or I will end your miserable life right now.”

  “Maxim Bisset!”

  Alicia’s unswollen eye went wide, and she staggered back a little, but quickly gathered herself. I knew why she’d reacted like that – the stuff with Sebastian had shifted our focus a little, but neither of us had forgotten that it was Maxim Bissett in the picture with her sister.

  Maxim, who we’d thought was on the Belrose side.

  Now we had confirmation of the connection we knew was there, but couldn’t figure out.

  “What is their plan?” Her voice had taken on a quieter, calmer, more terrifying tone.

  Reo shook his head, rocking back and forth. “I don’t know. I don’t know. Seriously.”

  “What do you know?” she asked, “And you’d better tell me something.”

  “The Collective. They… they were always referring to it, talking about votes. Like it was a group, or a club, or—”

  “Above your pay grade,” she supplied, with a deep sigh. “And mine. Did they mention other names?”

  “No. No. That’s all I know. I swear.”

  “I believe you. Just one more question, and then we’re done, okay?”

  She straightened to her full height in those heels, which were miraculously still strapped, using the gun as an extension of her hand to run through her hair, flipping it over her shoulder.

  “I’ll tell you anything,” Reo blubbered from the floor, looking nothing like the man who’d been plastered as a champion all over the posters on the way in. “Just, please… no more pain.”

  She nodded her agreement. “No more pain. Now tell me… Is the name… Dacia… familiar at all to you?”

  I frowned.

  Dacia…

  Had she finally remembered? Was that the name of her sister?

  I couldn’t spend too much time dwelling on that revelation, or the fact that I was just now hearing this – I was too busy trying to make sure I heard Reo’s answer.

  “Maxim… Maxim talks about her. But I haven’t seen her. She’s somebody’s daughter.”

  “Every woman is somebody’s daughter.”

  “No, I mean… somebody important. Somebody they need for leverage.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t, I swear. I swear.”

  “Shut up,” Alicia snapped, and immediately, he did. She extended her arm, pointing the gun straight at him, which made him start squirming again.

  “Wait, wait!” he begged, holding up his good hand. “You said no more pain!”

  Slowly, she smiled.

  “You’re right, Reo. I did.”

  She fired the gun.

  One last shot, right between his eyes, reminiscent of the single bullet that had snatched life from Vivica. After that, she dropped the gun, staring at him for a moment before she turned away, heading in my direction.

  “You… killed him,” I said, once she was close enough, even though it wasn’t even really what I meant to say. But she seemed completely unbothered about it, her eyebrows pulling together in a slight frown.

  “Cree… you didn’t expect me to let him walk out of here alive, did you? So he could tell Sebastian every detail he gave me, expose the fact that I’m in on this? I know you’re a good guy, Cree, but don’t be naïve. And don’t weep for Reo Tanaka. If you need to feel bad for someone, know that this disgusting place is a front for the kind of criminal activity that would make your skin crawl. I’m sure he has a victim or two you can start a fundraiser for.”

  With that, Alicia walked away from me, and her homegirl urged me to follow.

  On the other side of that curtain, the party was still going on, like none of what had just happened had gone down.

  Instead of going back the way we came, we were routed out the back, and ushered into a black SUV. As soon as we were strapped in, the vehicle started moving. We traveled in silence – me because I had no idea what the hell to say, and her because… I didn’t know. Maybe she was too deep in thought over what had just happened. Maybe she was more concerned with keeping the ice pack she’d gotten from somewhere over her eye. Maybe she was in too much pain to speak.

  Or maybe she just didn’t have shit to say to me.

  I didn’t push the issue – I let it ride.

  The car didn’t pull up at my place or hers – instead, we went into the private parking garage for The Reverie – the Whitfield family’s casino resort. Still in silence, we made our way to a suite that had apparently already been reserved, where only Alicia and I stepped inside.

  As soon as the door closed, she was all over me.

  I quickly fended her off, a little shocked as I backed away with my belt undone – she’d moved just that fast.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked, grabbing her at the wrists as she came back for another attempt, pressing herself into me.

  “I’m trying to get you naked, so we can work off some energy.”

  I scoffed. “You didn’t get enough of a work out just now?”

  “Nope,” she shook her head, extricating one of her wrists from my hold to wrap her arm around my neck. “I am wired, and horny, and I have been thinking about this the whole way here, so if we could cut the chatter, and just get right to the part where you’re inside of me, that would be—”

  “Can you see out of your left eye right now?”

  Instantly she stiffened, and her face pulle
d into a frown. “What?”

  “I said… can you see out of your left eye right now?” I repeated, pushing her conveniently placed hair out of her face. “Even after that ice pack… it’s still nearly swollen shut. You should probably get it looked at, make sure there’s no retinal damage, nothing like that. And I noticed that on your right side… you’re being real careful with that arm. Barely moving it. Because it’s hurt, right? And all these bruises, Alicia—”

  “What does any of that have to with anything? What’s your point?”

  I let out a dry laugh. “My point is that I’m not about to have sex with you. If you need some medical attention though, I’ve got you. Whatever you need.”

  “I told you what I need.”

  “No, you expressed what you wanted,” I corrected, which made her snatch away from me, but I was cool with that. “What you need is a hot bath and some Epsom salt, because you have to be aching. And another ice pack for your face.”

  Arms crossed over her chest, Alicia shook her head, looking at me – with one good eye – in disgust. “This is nothing, Cree. Reo was drunk, and high – it was an easy fight. I’ve walked away from much worse odds, with much more severe injuries… and gotten laid. It’s our way of life.”

  “It was your way of life – you’re not that anymore. You’re not a Rose anymore. You’re not a cold-blooded killer.”

  “Tell that to Reo.”

  I shrugged. “I can’t. He’s dead.”

  “Exactly my point.”

  “No, exactly mine. You killed Reo – fine. I honestly don’t feel any kind of way about his death. No lie – it was little jarring to see you go off like that, but nothing I couldn’t handle. But this? You’re deflecting. You want me to fuck you so you can get your mind off what you did, because you’re not the monster you were groomed to be. Not anymore.”

  “I am every bit of what I was groomed to be – I’ve lost nothing,” she argued, like she was offended by what I saw as a positive quality. “I got my people into his place, got control of every camera, got in there, got the information I needed, and got out, without making a scene. With only one casualty. While we were driving here, my people were cleaning up. Stripping security tapes, getting your car out of the parking lot. Making sure it looked like the work of one of Reo’s enemies, making sure there wasn’t a damn thing that traced back to me.”

  “Nice,” I responded. “Very nice. I’m glad you have good people in place, to do all this for you. They have to clean up something like this often?”

  She sucked her teeth. “What? No. We deal in legal things – protecting people. But yeah, we have to think fast, muddle through logistics, sometimes make it look like we weren’t where we were, things like that.”

  “Got it,” I nodded. “So what you’re saying is, they aren’t used to seeing you kill somebody.”

  “Of course not. But they understand that sometimes you have to do what you have to do.”

  “I don’t disagree, but you’re still missing my point.”

  “Which is?”

  “When is the last time you killed somebody?”

  That question seemed to take her completely off guard. I watched as she went completely stiff, not even breathing. And then, the unthaw, her chest rising to inhale and then push out a deep breath.

  Now, she got my point.

  Maybe back then, back when she was still indoctrinated, fucking after a kill had become a sort of ritual. It was boorish, but it made sense – running on adrenaline, emotions high, it was logical that increased libido would come with it.

  But this wasn’t the wild.

  She was no longer the infant raised among wolves that some wealthy hunters found in the forest. Too many years had gone by, spent among people – the Whitfields – she considered family now. People she loved. She had friends, she had her own business – she protected people for a living, many of whom she would probably protect for free.

  She’d experienced empathy now, and remorse, and there was no turning back from that. Maybe she didn’t feel bad for killing Reo – and that was fine, she didn’t need to. But she had too much emotional depth now to take someone’s life and feel nothing.

  What she said about not losing any of the things she’d developed as a Rose was true. She hadn’t lost anything at all. She’d gained something.

  A conscience.

  “I’m going to get in this big ass tub and soak, like you suggested.”

  I raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Good. I can see about get—”

  “If,” she interrupted, like I hadn’t spoken, “You are still here when I come back in this living room… I’m gonna do to you, what I did to Reo. Only you won’t get the same mercy I showed him, because you and I… We have no code.”

  “Well, shit,” I said, to her back, as she turned and left, still pretending like she couldn’t hear me talking. “If that was mercy, I probably don’t want to see what merciless looks like, huh?”

  My answer to that was a slammed door, and I couldn’t do anything but chuckle.

  You are really used to people doing whatever you say.

  So… once again, I had to prove to Alicia Miller that wasn’t nobody scared of her ass – well… plenty of people probably were, and they were right to be, but I wasn’t one of them. Instead of leaving like she’d warned me to do, I went into the suite’s kitchen to rummage around for what I needed.

  First, a drink.

  I poured one for myself, swallowed it, and then poured another… and swallowed that one too, because goddamn. When the night started, I’d known something crazy was going to happen, but I hadn’t expected all of that. I hadn’t expected any of that.

  I tried to be a stand-up guy.

  I really, really did.

  But ever since that phone call about the warehouse, it just seemed like I was on a downhill slope of actions that might cost me my badge, and I was gathering momentum.

  I hadn’t considered calling for backup, at all.

  Not even once.

  I wasn’t quite sure who that reflected worse on – me, for being willing to witness and even be a party to a crime I had no intention on reporting, or the LVMPD in general, for not being an organization I trusted enough anymore to think that bringing them in would help anyone.

  It was a messed up situation to be in.

  I poured one more drink, in a new glass – this time, for her. I searched the freezer, happy to find a few ice packs, and then found a first aid kit in the kitchen, which I swiped a gauze bandage from.

  If I had to wrap that ice pack around her damn head myself, so be it.

  She’d taken the suite’s main bedroom, so I headed straight there, not bothering to knock before I entered the bathroom. But maybe I should’ve, for both our sakes, because what I found there was honestly… disturbing.

  Alicia was sitting in the middle of the full bathtub, surrounded by steam and bubbles… crying.

  Holy shit.

  When she realized I was in the door, she tried to wipe her tears away, but quickly realized the pointlessness of that when her hands were wet from the tub. So instead, she tried to turn away, but I moved in front of her anyway, putting the things I’d brought with me on the floor beside me as I knelt.

  And said nothing.

  I waited for her to speak.

  It took a few minutes, but she finally looked me in the face with wet cheeks, and her eye still swollen almost shut, and said, “You think I’m a robot, don’t you?”

  “Nah,” I said, responding immediately. “You’re in a tub. Robots can’t get wet like this, right?”

  Before she could stop herself, she laughed, but quickly tried to hide it. That was fine though – I’d achieved my goal of breaking her, even temporarily, out of her pity party.

  “And,” I continued, “You’re crying. Never heard of robots crying.”

  “The really advanced ones probably can.”

  I shook my head. “Nah, that’s an android though. That’s something different.�
��

  “Barely.”

  “Still.” I shrugged. “But, back to your question… nah, I don’t think you’re a robot. At all. That’s exactly my point from earlier – you’re not a robot. I know you used to be. Know you had to be. But you’re not that now.”

  Alicia closed her eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath before she pushed it out. “But I want to be. Need to be, to get Dacia back. These people, Cree… I don’t think you understand just how cruel… how ruthless they are. There is no other way in that world.”

  “You misunderstand… I’m not suggesting that we go at this with rainbows and sunshine. When you’re dealing with criminals, the shit is ugly, period. I have no delusions about that. In the pursuit of justice – real justice – sometimes we have to do some ugly things. But… those things have a cost. To our bodies, to our minds, to our souls… sometimes all of the above. You haven’t had to do ugly things in a long time, but here we are now. You have to decide how you’re going to handle it, and… celebratory fucking is not the correct answer. I know this from experience.”

  Instead of responding, she looked away. There was quiet in the bathroom for a moment before she started pushing at her hair with one hand, trying to get the wet, heavy spirals out of her face.

  “Your arm is messed up, huh?” I asked, standing to my feet. I didn’t wait for an answer I already knew before I glanced around the bathroom, my eyes landing on her toiletry bag on the counter. There, I grabbed the weird spiky-looking brush I’d seen at her house, then moved back to the tub. “Let me help you out.”

  “Uh-uh!” she exclaimed, holding up her good arm to keep me away. “You’re not about to jack up my hair, are you crazy?”

  I chuckled. “I know I’m not gonna jack it up, cause I know what I’m doing. My foster mother had me help care for the younger kids – including Camille. I had to learn to do her hair for school. I have exactly one style.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

  “One braid. That’s it. That’s all I got. Take it or leave it.”

  I waited by the tub as she considered my offer, then gave me a slight nod. “I’ll take it.”

  Now, admittedly, it had been a long ass time since I’d braided Camille’s hair for her, but apparently the shit was based on muscle memory. I used the brush to gather all of Alicia’s strands into one bunch at the back of her head, split it into three like I’d been shown, and then weaved them together for a – slightly more… rough – version of her customary single braid.

 

‹ Prev