Old Money Roulette: Complete Trilogy

by Natalie Bennett

  Doing some quick addition in my head, I knew she was right on the cusp of turning eighteen.

  The same age my sister had been when she was murdered.

  The Rias twins had never been a blimp on my radar aside from the photo I’d seen of them when they were nothing but two young girls. Their grandmother and uncle never spoke of them. They were non-existent in my world until about three months ago; that’s when Eva showed up as a new hire, fucking anyone as long as she was paid up front.

  She was also a heavy hitter for coke and zanies. Toss the girl an eighth of yayo and I was told she would keep her legs and mouth open for come deposits all night long.

  Ricardo would be shitting himself if he could see his baby girl now, turned out and always on a different man’s arm. Elena, however, hadn’t made a single appearance.

  I forced myself to look away from the chocolate brown eyes that seemed to be drilling into mine, choosing to focus on the key Sergio had picked up.

  “What’s that say?”

  “It’s an address.” He flipped the tag around so I could see it for myself.

  “That’s where the twins are,” Elias noted with a hint of confusion, reaching for one of the folded papers.

  I rubbed my chin, not seeing or understanding what Ricardo wanted me to.

  I picked up the other piece of paper, which turned out to be an explicitly detailed letter, and read over it from front to back, twice.

  “Look.” Elias nudged my arm, holding out an old birth certificate that had definitely seen better days.

  As I skimmed the details listed on the official document, Ricardo’s angle slowly became clear as crystal.

  “We need to take a little road trip,” I said, placing the documents back inside the box.

  The DVD could wait.

  The difference in societal levels was drastically obvious. I had to admit that it made sense for Ricardo to send his daughters somewhere like this, but he could have picked a location more than twelve hours away.

  If anyone were to figure out where he’d stashed the twins, it wouldn’t take long to find them. Of course, that’s exactly what happened.

  We passed a boarded up corner store, the Tahoe’s headlights illuminating mangy cats on the sidewalk. Less than a half a mile down the road, Sergio pulled over and cut the engine.

  “That’s it,” he said, jerking his chin towards a shitty rundown bungalow across the street.

  Elias let out a low whistle from the back seat. “So this is where Ricardo hid his princesas, eh?”

  Glancing around, the bungalow actually seemed to be the nicest house on the block—which truly spoke volumes.

  It wasn’t possible to see all the way inside, but there were at least two lights on.

  My attention, however, was on the souped up Alfa Romeo parked behind a PT Cruiser. The car didn’t belong in this area, and stood out like a sore thumb.

  Before I could say anything, a man came from behind the house and calmly walked to the car.

  “What the fuck is Alex Norway doing here?” Sergio asked.

  “Excellent question.”

  We watched him get inside the car, his blonde head never once turning our way. Fucking amateur. It was imperative to always be aware of your surroundings. He cruised off, heading away from us, taking a right turn at the end of the road.

  It took me less than a full sixty seconds to know what I was going to do. I knew something wasn’t right; we all did.

  What I didn’t know was why I gave a damn. It was like a silent, compulsive lure, telling me I had to go inside that house.

  Elias and Sergio got out of the truck right along with me, not asking a single question. The starless night sky covered us as we moved towards the bungalow. The Tahoe’s engine settled behind us, and a few of the cats could be heard from down by the old store.

  Removing my Glock, I pushed open the rusted gate blocking entry onto the property. Leading the way to the rear of the house, I went straight to the back door. It opened right up with zero resistance.

  Gesturing for Elias and Sergio to be quiet, we filed into a clean but severely outdated kitchen.

  The house was small; only the whir from a box-fan and the steady hum of a fish-tank filter filled it with sound.

  The living room was empty and dark, aside from a dim table lamp. A plaid sofa and recliner took up the majority of the space.

  There was a distinct lemony smell lingering in the air.

  Directly off the main room was a hall with three open doors, and one closed with light shining from beneath it.

  “Don’t they have an ‘aunt’ who lives here, too?” Sergio asked, looking at the few pictures lining the wood paneled walls.

  “Molly picks up graveyard shifts from time to time,” I replied, making my way down the hall, checking each room as I went.

  Getting closer to the closed door, I heard what sounded like labored breathing on the other side.

  I knocked and got a weak, indecipherable response in return. Grabbing the knob, I pushed the door in. There she was.

  Her head slightly lolled back, she stared straight through me with a pair of heavy lidded eyes she was visibly struggling to keep open.

  Two pouty lips moved, but whatever she said once again came out too low for me to understand.

  Her naked body sat submerged in a tub of blood and bubbles. One of her wrists hung over the side, staining the dull white porcelain red and dripping onto the faded tile.

  In that moment, I didn’t see Elena Rias as my adversary’s daughter, or a random girl born from a union of incest.

  I saw a young woman trying to hold onto her life. I saw a chance to save her from the cruelty of a world she didn’t ask to be a part of, but was made a casualty of nonetheless. Just like my baby sister had been.

  It didn’t make sense right then, why someone would come all this way to hurt Elena when she had been gone from Vice City for so long.

  I immediately suspected the twin, Eva, had something to do with it. If anyone had a vendetta against these girls, it would be because of her continuous bad choices.

  Not allowing myself time to second guess my actions, I called for my brother and cousin.

  I knew I had to help her.

  I couldn’t let her die.

  I didn’t figure out until much later, as I sat by her side and watched over her like a damn guard dog through the night, that she was the catalyst of my life.

  Chapter Five

  Present

  He never came for me.

  I’m sure he had people looking, but he didn’t come in the three, almost four days I’d been gone so far.

  My leg bounced up and down. Every five minutes, I was glancing over at the motel room’s door. I had no idea what was going on, which had me delaying in taking any action.

  I’d never been so disconnected from the outside world.

  I had the fleeting thought that maybe I shouldn’t have ditched my cell in some random field, but I knew that just like the Cadillac, it could be used to track me.

  Three quick knocks on the door drew my blank stare away from the Law & Order marathon playing on the old box television.

  Rubbing my hands on my jean shorts, I pushed off the bed, bunching the floral comforter in the process.

  I ignored the slight sting from the blisters on the soles of my feet and hobbled over. I’d gotten them after ditching the BMW on the side of the road, having no choice but to walk through the damn woods to get to wherever the hell I was. My entire body ached, burning in places I didn’t even know had muscles.

  Double checking the peep-hole to make sure it was really Peyton and Melody, I undid all three locks and opened the door.

  The second it was open, they both rushed inside, smelling of fresh dewy rain and mouth watering Chinese food.

  They were both dressed down in jeans and a hoodie so as not to draw any extra attention to themselves.

  “Anything new?” Peyton asked, sitting the bags he had on a round table in the corner.


  “No. Have you two heard anything?”

  “In terms of Mateo searching for you, no,” Melody replied, sliding the chain on the door back into place. “But, after thinking about it, if someone really is searching for you aside from him, he wouldn’t make a huge spectacle about you missing. I’m not sure what the fuck’s going on, but Mateo is obsessed with you, and that’s pretty obvious. I don’t think he’ll ever kill you.”

  “Wow, thanks for that,” I replied dryly.

  She shrugged and handed me the two plastic store bags.

  I looked inside one, quickly reading the labels on a few hygiene products, and let out an exaggerated breath of relief. “Thank you. I feel like I haven’t washed my hair in weeks.”

  “We can tell, hun,” Peyton quipped.

  “Bitches,” I softly joked, reclaiming my seat on the edge of the bed.

  “We parked at the dingy bistro across the street and grabbed some coffee for added cover. No one saw us. The front desk manager was in the back office when we walked by,” Peyton explained, handing me a napkin, plastic fork, and white takeout container

  I nodded, popping the lid off and immediately digging into the most exquisite chicken lo mien I’d ever had. After snacking on cereal bars and fruit gushers the last twenty four hours, this was akin to a five course meal.

  “How are you doing?” Melody asked, sitting down beside me.

  I slurped one last noodle into my mouth and accepted a bottle of water from Peyton.

  This was the giant pink elephant in my shitty motel room they’d been cautiously dancing around.

  My sister’s jagged heart now hung around my neck, right beside mine. The box of ashes sat on the nightstand. I didn’t pay much attention to it. There’d be brief little moments I forgot it was even there, until it flashed in my peripheral.

  She was gone. Call it a twin thing.

  Or be a optimist and base everything purely on the words of a man who’d twisted the truth and gave me a flickering flame of false hope. Whichever way it needed to be explained so it could make sense to anyone else was irrelevant, because I couldn’t feel her anymore.

  I took a long sip of water and slowly exhaled. “I haven’t cried, haven’t even asked myself the usual questions—ya know, the whys, hows, and whats…” I trailed off, wondering how brutally honest I wanted to be.

  It didn’t take me long to decide that as much as these two incredible people risked their asses for me, they deserved the raw truth.

  “Part of me feels so incredibly hollow, like I should be curled in the fetal position and sobbing my heart out. Then there’s this other part of me…” I shifted my weight and diverted my gaze back to the television.

  “I feel like she needed to die to be free of all the demons dragging her down. I spent literal years, day in and day out, trying to reach her before giving up. The drugs—this world—it had a hold on her that I couldn’t break. I lost the Eva I knew a long time ago.

  “I’m not even a little bit sorry to be glad she’s gone, because I don’t have to worry anymore.”

  The sound of the fictional detectives filled the lengthy silence between the three of us. When I finally glanced at my two friends, the lack of judgment I saw made me feel ten pounds lighter.

  “I think it’s perfectly fine to feel that way,” Melody said, laying her head on my shoulder.

  “She’s right. No one gets to dictate how you feel. There is no rule book on how to handle things like this,” Peyton added, sitting down across from me on the opposite bed.

  I gave him a small smile, leaning into Melody’s damp head.

  My bruised heart swelled.

  I was so grateful to have two friends like them. The moment I’d settled into the motel room, I’d called them to let them know I was okay, giving minimal details.

  They demanded to know where I was, showing up within two hours, staying until I told them everything.

  They’d never once distanced themselves from my epic disaster of a life or left me alone to deal with my issues, even when I refused to let anyone in.

  They didn’t look at me differently now I’d finally disclosed the fact that my mother and father were brother and sister.

  “I don’t think Mateo did it,” I confessed after an elapsed silence.

  “Well, I imagine he didn’t. This isn’t his style of doing things,” Melody said.

  “Of course it’s not his style, because that’s not how the Remmingtons play the game,” Peyton scoffed.

  “You think this is about the game?”

  “Honey, everything in this entire damn city is about the game. It never ends. Never. The old money roulette is a repetitive cycle of gorgeous, rich assholes fucking up other rich assholes’ lives while wearing the best designer clothes and sharing some bubbly with superficial smiles.” He grabbed the customary motel notepad and a pen from beside the prehistoric landline.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to see what he was writing.

  “He’s doing what we promised we would: helping you,” Melody answered for him.

  My brows slanted inward from confusion. Apparently I’d missed something, because they seemed to know exactly what was going on. “Are you going to explain?”

  “Look.” Peyton stood and moved so he was crouched in front of me. On the notepad were tiny bullets with events scrawled beside them.

  “Someone was able to lure your sister back to Vice City, get her on drugs, and had her selling herself for money. That someone then told her about the ledger to coerce her into stealing it.” He flipped the page up and continued. “It’s not a stretch to assume this person is responsible for sending someone in to make it look like you tried to commit suicide, and then send someone back a year later to take out your aunt.”

  “Then your family—er, Mateo—had you brought back to Remmington Square,” Melody inserted.

  I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to alleviate the dull throb in my skull. This was a lot of information to take in, but that didn’t stop me from realizing how much sense it all sort of made.

  “This person could be the one who sent the albinos to Raine’s house, right? And responsible for…that?” I gestured towards the tiny box of ash.

  “It sounds like some huge conspiracy plot, but this is the game in its true form. I just don’t understand why this is happening to you. I mean, no offense, but your family isn’t exactly a threat to anyone,” Melody stated.

  I waved her off. The Rias family was too fucked up to threaten anyone, especially with my parents long gone. Someone was working their own angle.

  “That’s the big question then, isn’t it? Finding out why would anyone do all of this? What the point is?”

  Peyton shook his head, causing a strand of blond hair to fall across his creased forehead.

  Flipping another page in the notebook, he jotted down something else before holding it up for me to see.

  “Queen of diamonds, king of hearts, and ace of spades.”

  I was instantly reminded of the shaded tattoo Mateo had on one side of his body with those same three playing cards. I was the queen, which made Mateo the king. There was another person unaccounted for.

  “You don’t ask why, you ask who, because as soon as you have the answer, you can ask the questions,” Peyton explained, reading my mind.

  “You sound as cryptic as Mateo,” I grumbled. “Do you think he knows who it is?”

  Peyton gave me a look.

  “The Remmingtons play this game better than anyone; I’m positive he knows, but clearly they’re not on the same side,” Melody answered, standing up.

  “What about that pregnant girl you two were telling me about?”

  “Camilla? No one’s seen her in years…I suppose it’s possible, but she has no motive to go after you. We’ll keep digging. In the meantime, try to get some sleep. I brought you some Advil PM.” Peyton stood, placing a quick kiss on my cheek.

  “We’ll figure it out, El,” Melody assured me. “Are you good
on cash? There are some bottles of water and a Gatorade on the table.”

  “I’m fine. The wallets I took had more than enough to cover me for a few nights.” I was worried about missing my Prozac. I’d never attempted to go so long without it. I wasn’t even sure what the actual pills were that Mateo had swapped them for.

  I kept that concern to myself, though, not wanting to worry them any more than they already were.

  After a quick hug goodbye, I told them to be careful as they left the building.

  When they were gone and the locks were back in place, I turned and sagged against the door.

  Staring down at the large diamond on my ring finger, I wondered if my life would ever be anything other than pure insanity.

  In my gut, I knew things were about to get much more chaotic.

  Chapter Six

  The magical sorcery in a pill bottle had me out like a light the second I laid down.

  I rubbed my eyes, searching for the television remote and finding it beneath my pillow. The digital alarm clock was missing a button and one number was faded out, so I used the guide as my way of telling time.

  Two twenty-three AM sat in the top left corner of the screen. It had officially been four days since I’d left Remmington Hills. I sighed and tossed the remote back down.

  Pulling my knees to my chest, I rested my chin on them and stared blankly ahead.

  These moments were the worst.

  Late at night, early in the morning, afternoon…it didn’t matter. When I had no distractions, I was with the depressing company of all my thoughts racing through my head.

  I hated that I missed him. I craved him in the worst possible way, feeling like a junkie who would soon malfunction if I didn’t get my fix.

  I think saying we were perfect for one another, equal in a million different tragically dysfunctional ways, was a generous way of putting it.

  Funny how many different things a person could find themselves addicted to—most of them never really good for your health. I suppose that’s what the appeal was.

  Running my fingers through my still damp locks, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretching my arms towards the ceiling.