Deuces Wild

by Christina C Jones

  “Dacia, get away from her,” I yelled, hoping it would be enough to do the trick. But Dacia remained where she was, deferring to Paloma – the woman who’d been ready to kill her two hours ago. “Dacia, please,” I begged, and she finally looked at me.

  “I… I don’t know you. I’m not coming with you,” she said, in a grown woman’s voice but a childlike tone that I recognized too well – I was familiar with the pliant state a person was left in after being subject to Belrose torture.

  Paloma laughed. “You see? She doesn’t even want to come with you. She doesn’t know you,” she mocked.

  “But I know you,” I yelled, ignoring Paloma. “I’m Ace, and you’re my Deuce. My Dacia, with the hot pink braces and fluffy ponytails.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything to her,” Paloma smugly sang, and from the look on Dacia’s face, that was true. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what I could say to bring her back to me – to remind her, as Cree had with me, that she was human.

  “Ms. D!” I screeched, and that got her attention. Not blatantly, but I saw the sudden change in her expression. “I found Penelope. I found Pen. She’s safe, and she’s happy, and she likes Vogue! And expensive salads. And she’s going to be okay. Because of you, Dacia. Because I was looking for you, I found her, and she’s… she’s just fine, Ms. D. And she wants to see you.”

  “Penny wants to see me?” she asked, and I almost broke into tears at the expression on her face, like she’d been pulled out of a fog. I knew for a fact that it wasn’t usually this easy, but… we’d had a taste of humanity now. We had feelings, had people keeping us tethered to what was real, not the augmented reality the Belroses had created.

  They didn’t have full control of our heads anymore.

  “Yes,” I nodded, smiling as I held a hand out to her. “Come with me… we’re going to her.”

  “No she isn’t,” Paloma said, raising her gun. I raised mine at the same time, firing off a shot before she did, forcing her to shift her aim as she moved to avoid being shot.

  And still, Dacia went down.

  The wail she let out cut right through my chest bone, gripping my heart. For the second time that night, a sharp “no” wrestled out of my throat as I tried to make it to her, needing to see if she was hit, needing to know if she was okay.

  I was a few feet away when Paloma raised her gun again.

  “Goodbye.”

  I cringed, steeling myself for pain, but it never came. I heard the gunshot rip through the air, but the expected explosion against my flesh didn’t happen. Not for me.

  It happened for Paloma.

  The hole bloomed in the middle of her chest, quickly making a mess of her white silk blouse. She hit the wall behind her with a thud, leaving a trail of blood and flesh as she sank down.

  I crawled the few feet it took to reach Dacia before I turned around.

  Cree.

  He was on the floor, clearly spent from the effort it had taken to crawl from the dining room to the hall. When I looked back at Dacia, she was cradling her arm, and jerked away from me when I tried to touch her.

  Instead of struggling with that, I went to Cree, rolling his collapsed frame onto his back to see to the gunshot wound in his side. It appeared to be through and through, which was good, but I had no idea what kind of internal injuries he’d sustained.

  “Dacia…is she…”

  “She’s okay,” I assured him, cupping his face as he closed his eyes. “Don’t… don’t do that, okay? Keep your eyes open. Open them for me, please. Please,” I begged. “Cree. Cree!”

  He wasn’t responding anymore, and I had no idea what to do about it. Those gunshots and yelling that had been happening in the distance, were coming closer, and I had no idea who was coming.

  Rivals or cavalry.

  I was too tired to care.

  I pulled the gun Cree had taken off one of the downed security guards from his lax fingertips, aiming it toward the door as I pulled his upper body into my lap. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever – whoever – was coming through the door.

  And waited.

  FIFTEEN

  “Vivica would be very disappointed to be missing this.”

  My gaze shifted from the ceiling to the doorway, and I grinned as the source of that statement stepped fully into the room, letting the door close behind him.

  “She always said, the fact that you’d seen her in the hospital twice but she hadn’t seen you there once, was unforgivable.”

  “Cedric, what's up man?” I asked as I laughed, wanting to sit up to shake his hand, but immediately decided against it when pain shot up my side.

  I wasn't pressing that goddamn relief button though.

  I was already in a fairly inclined position, so I just stayed there and let him come to me, accepting his gesture. Once we'd greeted each other, Cedric – Vivica’s husband - sat down next to the bed, meeting my eyes with a hopeful glare.

  I nodded.

  We'd gotten those motherfuckers.

  Ultimately, Naim and Willow had been the ones to save the day - the recorded video and phone call with Paloma providing enough to convince whoever was in charge to hand out search and arrest warrants. Naim had been, and was still being, cagey about the details, but I knew it was because he'd had to pull strings.

  Which was fine by me.

  I loved knowing that the shit had unraveled.

  And besides that, there was a minor thing I'd kept from him too, and had no plans to reveal, for the same reasons he had.

  Before we left Vegas, Willow had a package messengered to me. A tiny, powerful transmitter, small enough to style as a cufflink so it wouldn't raise alarm with metal detectors. It didn't put off a signal unless you wanted it to, so I'd walked right in with the shit and then subtly set it off, before Etienne had set Alicia on me.

  I didn't know the technical details, and didn't want to, but Willow knew what she was doing - being a hero. Because of her, the records that matched a particular Rose or Thorn to a certain crime were scrambled, eliminating the possibility of them spending their lives in jail for crimes they'd essentially been forced into. The main thing had been keeping Alicia out of prison, but helping the others was a plus. We hadn't even known we'd end up in a position to do it, but I was damn sure glad things had worked out that way.

  Good thing Alicia reminded me to “dress” for dinner.

  If there was even a hint that Etienne was going to avoid paying for what he'd done, we were prepared to - anonymously - release his misdeeds into the wild for all to see. Friends and enemies alike. One way or another, he'd answer for what he did to those people, to their families.

  For what he'd been responsible for doing to Vivica.

  Cedric sat back in his chair, eyes aimed at the ceiling, like mine had been before he walked in. When he returned his attention to me, they were glossy, and he nodded.

  “Thank you. Thank you, man.”

  I shook my head. “Vivica was family. No need to thank me. Thank you for not holding it against me.”

  “You've always had her back. I knew that hadn't changed.”

  “Never. But man...I hope this gives you a little peace.”

  Cedric nodded as he stood. “Yeah. Me too.”

  As soon as Cedric left, Camille came in, dragging her man, Jackson, with her.

  “How are you? Are you still okay?” she asked, as if my status had changed in the two hours since I asked her to leave, and stop fussing over me long enough to take a damn nap.

  She’d been like that all week.

  I didn’t even remember being moved from the Belrose compound back to Vegas, and I definitely didn’t know who was paying for the fancy ass private room I was in. According to Camille and Naim, I was completely out the first few days, while they managed the infection from whatever toxin was built into Paloma’s specialized bullets. I was awake now though, and Camille had barely left my side. Naim had to go back to Lyon, but he’d been there too, as well as Loren, Matt
, and a few others from the police squad.

  I’d seen everyone I wanted to see… except for Alicia.

  Nobody had answers for me about where she was, and I hadn’t pressed, but I wondered. According to Camille, she hadn’t seen her at all, not even with the Whitfields. Naim told me that Dacia had definitely boarded the jet with her back to Vegas, but since then, he hadn’t heard anything.

  Loren had seen her though.

  I could tell by the way she clammed up when I asked about her, averting her eyes. When I pressed, she told me that Alicia was “adjusting”, whatever the hell that meant.

  Camille wasn’t thrilled about any of it.

  “That woman dragged you into this and can’t even be bothered to come visit? That’s messed up.”

  And even though I agreed – not about being dragged into it, but about it being messed up – I was never saying that out loud to Camille, because I didn’t want to get her going.

  I just wanted to rest.

  Jackson gave me a sympathetic shrug as Cam went on about one thing or another, but I tuned her out, focusing instead on the news report playing on the TV.

  “…a shocking turn of events as more information comes out about Captain Mateo Santiago’s involvement with the Santiago Cartel – a group he’d been quoted as being “disgusted” by, and ashamed to share their family heritage. According to an official statement from Las Vegas Metro Police Department, Santiago had vowed to do everything in his power to help take the Cartel down, and restore his family name. Allegedly… that never happened. WAWG has obtained email and text correspondences, phone call recordings, pictures, and even some video, all of which seems to corroborate Mateo Santiago’s guilt. This evidence was made publicly accessible by an anonymous source, and WAWG has not yet been able to verify its authenticity. LVMPD Vice Detective Matt Leary, who led the efforts against Santiago, declined to comment on the leaked emails and video, but he did say that he was confident that a formal indictment for Santiago, who is currently being held without bond because of his flight risk, would come soon, and that justice would be served.”

  Goddamn Matt.

  That dude had been strutting around like a peacock – here, all over the news, and all around the police station according to some of my coworkers – since we handed his ass exactly what he needed to take Santiago down. A local cover up was easy, so we’d released the evidence to the public to pre-empt it all. There were other, honestly more damning things that hadn’t made the news – just in case something got thrown out. The court of public opinion accounted for a lot though, and Matt was taking credit for all of it.

  Which was fine by me.

  That had been the whole point.

  I didn’t want to answer questions, didn’t want a spotlight on me, on Loren, on Alicia. I wasn’t going back to the force, because this whole thing had changed my perspective too much to ever feel comfortable with that badge again. I knew shit wasn’t right, just hadn’t been able to put my finger on it. Now that I could, I wanted nothing to do with it.

  All I wanted was peace.

  Once this bullet wound healed… maybe I’d have it.

  Eventually, Jackson picked up on the fact that – as much as I loved my little sister – she was getting on my damn nerves. First, he tried to get her out of there gently, and when that didn’t work, he said what I hadn’t out of concern for seeming ungrateful that she was trying to be available for me.

  “Cam… baby… you’re talking too much. He’s trying to rest, and relax, and you’re doing all this yapping…”

  Camille’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Excuse me?! I am trying to—”

  “Yeah, yeah, woman. Bring your ass on,” he said, stepping out of the door without waiting on her, making her mouth drop.

  She turned to me with pure fire in her eyes, then moved to kiss my forehead. “I need to go talk to him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  “No you’re not, we’re going.”

  The sound of Jackson’s voice, saying more shit she didn’t want to hear, only made the blaze in her eyes grow hotter. She straightened up, deathly slow, glaring as she approached where he’d stuck his head back in the door.

  The look she gave as she slinked past was… killer, to say the least. Jackson shook his head, then looked right at me. “You’re welcome, bruh. And please believe that with the amount of mouth I’m about to hear behind this… you owe me.”

  “I’ve got you,” I told him, chuckling as he let the door close behind him and went off to receive whatever “punishment” Camille was about to dole out. He’d taken one for the team, and I appreciated it, because it gave me the opportunity to turn the TV and lights off, and finally give in to the morphine drip in my arm.

  When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t alone.

  The only illumination in the room was from the machines monitoring my vitals, but even if I hadn’t been able to see her, I could feel her. Curled up against my side – my “good” side – Alicia’s breathing pattern was slow and steady, but she wasn’t asleep.

  When she looked up, her eyes reflected the blue-green light of the monitors. “I was just starting to wonder how many nights it would take for you to realize I was here, and wake up.”

  “This isn’t the first?”

  “No. I’ve been here every night.”

  That feels more like right.

  The idea that she hadn’t been there didn’t quite curl over for me, and now I understood why. She’d been sneaking in after hours.

  “Loren facilitated it for me,” she said, explaining before I’d even asked. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to answer questions, or talk to anyone else, so… I gave them their time with you, and took this as mine.”

  I wanted to tease her.

  Wanted to give her shit about sneaking in here to cuddle at night, because it flew directly in the face of what she’d always presented to the public. Or at least, what she’d presented to me. Instead of doing that though, I tightened my arm around her, since she’d already positioned herself underneath it. That seemed to be the encouragement she needed to push herself up a bit, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on my lips before she pulled back. Her fingers sank into my hair, reminding me that my last haircut had been too long ago, and then her eyes came to mine.

  “You saved my life… after I tried to kill you.”

  “I told you I had your back… a little attempted murder doesn’t change that I guess.”

  I smirked at her until she broke into a smile. “You’re goofy.”

  “And you like it.”

  “I do, actually,” she nodded, giggling as I moved my hand to grab a handful of her ass, and squeeze. “You’re quite well balanced. I… like it a lot. Like you a lot.”

  My eyebrows went straight up. “Wow. I can’t say I was expecting this kinda honesty from you.”

  She tipped her head. “Well… you saved my life,” she said again. “And… nearly lost yours. That makes it seem a little silly to not just be honest.”

  “Okay, so since we’re being honest… tell me how you’re feeling. How you’ve felt. The last time I saw you, you were about to be shot by your evil stepmother. Naim is the only reason I knew your ass wasn’t dead or in jail. Tell me what happened.”

  “You know what happened.”

  “But I don’t know it from you.”

  She let out this soft little sigh, then repositioned so she could lay her head on my chest. “Well… I was almost certain we were going to die. You’d passed out, Dacia was wounded, and… I heard people coming. Thought it was Etienne’s people, but… it was Naim. With an “Incident Response Team”, which is basically… I guess the American equivalent would be SWAT, but also not really? Either way… he actually came in himself, armed. It was pretty hot, actually.”

  “Careful now,” I warned, making her laugh.

  “I’m just saying. But um… anyway. His people got us out of there before anybody really saw us. Got you seen by a medical team, stabilized, and then back on th
at jet, back to America, since we weren’t exactly in the country legally in the first place.”

  My eyes widened. “Naim left some of this out.”

  “Yeah. He probably didn’t want you worrying about it while you were still in a precarious state. He made sure a lot of stuff didn’t make the news… or the official report from the scene. But Loren says you’ll be okay.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I talked to her. Your phrasing is softer than hers. Hers was more like, “I know you didn’t think you were gonna die and leave me and Alicia to do everything by ourselves with this baby.””

  “That sounds about right,” Alicia laughed. “She has an appointment next week, and she expects you there.”

  “She expects both of us there,” I corrected. “Which is… a pretty bananas situation, but if y’all are both cool… so am I.”

  She blew out a sigh. “I… yeah. It’s definitely a mental adjustment to make, but like I told you before… I’m not ready to let whatever this is go without trying.”

  “Then, like I told you before… we’ll be okay. Now… there’s one thing you haven’t talked to me about yet.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dacia.”

  From the way she moved to sit up, I knew things must have been tense. I grabbed her hand though, squeezing it to let her know that if nothing else, she had my support.

  “Come on… just tell me what it is.”

  She sighed. “It’s… nothing. And by nothing, I don’t mean “I’d rather pretend there wasn’t a problem”, I mean… that’s the problem. She’s not talking to me, or anyone really. And she won’t let me take her to therapy.”

  “She’s probably traumatized.”

  “She’s definitely traumatized. How could she not be? Her mother conspired to have her killed, only for the people she hired to sell us to the Belroses instead of doing what she asked. She went through God only knows what, not knowing that she had a mother and sister who were still alive. And then, somehow, Paloma finds out that Dacia is there. She appeals to Etienne – who she’s apparently having an affair with, and he pulls her out of the field, to be an instructor. She makes friends with this girl. Girl gets ripped away. She escapes somehow, to try to find her… only to get captured again. And there’s no telling what Sebastian and Maxim did to her while she was with them. Then, to top it all off… her mother, who she hadn’t seen in sixteen years, tries to kill her.”