by Amo Jones
Mommy wants to hold you, and squeeze you every night.
I want to sing you sweet lullabies, and be your favorite sight.
I may not know your eye color, or your favorite toy.
I may not know what games you like to play,
Or build little hidden forts or caves.
But Mommy knows your heartbeat; it strums just like my own.
Because every breath I take now, won’t just be my own.”
I clear my throat and place the piece of paper back into the envelope, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I look toward her casket, the pure-white finish fit for an angel, and brush my hand over the silkiness. Picking up a purple iris flower out of the pile we got delivered here, I place a soft kiss to it before laying it down on the closed coffin.
Rubbing it gently, I whisper, “I’m sorry, baby.” I place the envelope on top of the flower, addressed to The sweetest little angel, before finishing with, “I love you.”
Big arms wrap around my waist, and Raze pulls me into his chest. Turning in his embrace, I let the flood of tears pour out of me, sobbing uncontrollably. He lays kisses on the top of my head. “I know, baby. I got you.”
Eventually, I pull away from him, and he bends down, swiping the tears off my cheeks with his thumb. “Fuck,” he groans, pulling me into him again and kissing me on the forehead.
He looks toward the coffin, and his face morphs into something deeper than pain. Something so much more than just hurt. Looking over his shoulder, he nudges his head at Miles. Miles walks toward me slowly, and I take his hand, letting him lead me back to where we were standing. Turning around, I see Raze still in the same position, staring blankly at the casket. I can hear my mom sniffling beside Melissa, with Ella beside her.
Raze takes a step toward the coffin, placing his palm on the top. He kneels down, picking up a flower and bringing it to his lips. He kisses it softly and then places it on top of mine and the envelope, before turning around and coming back to where we stand. He may not have said anything out loud, but his silence is thunderous. He takes my hand in his, weaving our fingers together, and we watch as, one by one, everyone picks up a flower and places it on top of her casket as it slowly lowers into the ground.
Beast and Ella walk toward Raze, and Beast gives him a knowing nod. They may not have known each other long, but they are brothers. Even I can see, whether they like it or not, that they already have a code of loyalty between them. Ella doesn’t hold back, throwing her arms around Raze. He freezes before finally giving in and hugging her back.
I look to Miles as he wraps his arm around me. “Are you ready to go home?”
“I guess.”
“Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy.”
—Author Unknown
IT’S BEEN EXACTLY ONE WEEK since we lost Iris, and although we’re still mourning, I have a ton of questions that I need to be answered. Raze still hasn’t really opened up to me about Iris’ death, and every time I try to confide in him, he shuts down and goes to lift weights. My mom told me that he will open up when he’s ready and that you can’t judge how another person deals with their losses; it’s all a part of the process. So, I leave it. I’ll leave it until he’s ready. I just hope it’s soon, because I don’t want him to hold onto this for the rest of his life.
The police have been in touch, and they still have nothing on the person who ran a stop sign and then drove off, leaving me there. All I could tell them was the make and color of the pickup.
Raze is waiting for me, pulling the door open that leads down to the basement. He takes my hand, and slaps my ass with his other. “Come on, baby.”
Once we’re seated at the table, me on Raze’s lap, Miles comes rushing down the stairs. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Shit.”
Raze rolls his eyes, and Joker scoffs, “Some shit never changes.”
Miles narrows his eyes, and I look between Joker and him, picking up on the tension.
“Miles!” I click my fingers at him. “Take a seat, my monster.”
On my command, he looks toward me, and his features soften before he takes a seat on Raze’s right.
I look around the table to see The 6 seated, and Miles back at Raze’s side. It feels like… power. They may be cold-hearted killers, but these men—aside from Soulless—are my family. They have been there for me through everything this past week, and even before then, Joker and Angel had become like brothers to me.
Raze starts. “Miles was taken by The Syndicate.” Joker sits back in his seat, his eyes wide. Raze carries on. “Ikea, as I’m sure everyone here is familiar with her—”
“I’m not!” I squawk, turning on his lap gently.
His lip curls in a smirk. I love the way he looks at me during any meetings. If I ask a question, his attention is on me completely, and other people seated around the table cease to exist. “You met her, baby. She came over that day.”
My jaw tenses as a recollection of the tramp dressed in white comes back to me. “Right.”
“Wait,” Miles says, looking at Raze. “Why was she here? She shouldn’t be here, Raze.”
Soulless scoffs. “She was bouncing on his dick not long ago, so—”
Miles jumps off his seat and flies across the room, catching Soulless’ throat in his hand.
I exhale softly, shaking my head, and Raze sits there grinning.
Miles tilts his head, examining Soulless. “Apologize to puddin’.”
I rub my forehead. “It’s fine, Miles. Put him down.”
“Yeah, Miles, sit down,” Soulless mocks.
I turn to see Raze’s eyes solid and his jaw clenched. The grin that was once there has been replaced by simmering rage.
“Naw, baby girl. I’m thinking he needs to apologize or get the fuck out.” Miles must tighten his grip around Soulless’ throat, because the once smug face he was holding has turned fearful.
“Raze,” I mutter under my breath. He doesn’t do anything, just watches closely. Looking around the table, I see Angel, Viking, Joker, and Royal all watching Soulless and Miles with different expressions.
“You see,” Miles says to him, loud enough to gain everyone’s attention. “I remember a lot about what happened at the Beehive. I know who comes in and out of those doors.” Soulless’ face turns purple. “One hundred and seventy-six.” Miles grins, and I squirm on Raze’s lap. This isn’t going to end well. Miles has his psycho eyes going on. “That number mean anything to you?”
Soulless shakes his head, gasping for air. Raze brings his hand to my upper thigh and caresses it with his thumb.
“That’s how many times you walked in and out of Ikea’s office,” Miles whispers harshly, and then he goes to flick his wrist, obviously to end his life, when I launch off Raze’s lap.
“Miles!” I squeak, and he stops. “Drop him. Now.” He still doesn’t release his hold. Jesus Christ. I walk toward him slowly, bringing my hand to his arm. “Please,” I beg. “Too much death.”
Instantly, Miles unlatches his hand from his throat, throwing Soulless to the ground. He turns his head to look over his shoulder. “Sorry, baby girl.”
I smile softly. “Sit down.” I didn’t have to ask what that was about. I know Miles and Raze wouldn’t make a decision unless they were absolutely positive that someone was trying to jeopardize the family or Raze’s position.
Raze looks up at Miles. “Still hungry?”
Miles squeezes his fingers together and smirks. “Little bit.”
“Okay, so as you were saying….” I look to Raze.
“The Syndicate has been holding Miles,” Raze continues, as Soulless gathers himself and takes a seat back in his chair.
“Why?” Joker asks, blazing up his cigarette.
“Because Ikea thinks I can be a tool for her to use against Raze,” Miles says casually.
“But surely she knows your loyalty has and always will be with Raze?” I ask.
Miles
nods. “She does,” he looks to Raze, “but that’s exactly what she was using to keep me there.”
“What do you mean?” I search his eyes, confused.
Miles catches me staring at him, and his eyes darken as his lip kicks up in a grin. “See something you like, puddin’?”
I smirk. “Just thinking.”
“About?” he baits me, leaning forward slightly.
“Fantasizing.”
“Oh?” He quirks his head, excitement clear in his tone. “Do share.”
“About what I’m going to do to you both once we’re alone.” I tap Raze’s leg.
Miles’ smirk turns into a full grin. “Damn, still got the kink, huh?”
“If by kink you mean choke you out, then yes, I still have the kink.”
Angel laughs, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t envy you at all with these two,” he says to Raze, pointing to Miles and me.
“Back to the topic,” Raze growls, already over our shit.
“She needs him, and is using me and you to keep him,” Miles explains.
“Me?” I say, taken aback. “What have I got to do with it?” I’m already ready to pop some pills and go to bed. I’m not physically tired, but emotionally, I feel drained. Drowning in everything. But business is business, and if these two are going to be having meetings, I’ll be here every time to make sure I don’t get left out of the loop ever again.
“She knows what you mean to me, puddin’.” Miles leans back in his seat.
“So why couldn’t either of you tell me about you being alive? Why the secrets?”
Miles shakes his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, but this dick,” he points toward Raze, “dug himself too deep. I was always supposed to be dead for everyone else though, but I didn’t have to be dead to Raze and you. Raze didn’t know at the time, but Ikea wanted everyone to think I was dead, so she could see who would be the first to try to take the throne from Raze.”
Shaking my head, I lean into Raze’s chest. “It’s all extreme.”
Miles shrugs. “Hasn’t it always been though?”
I guess he does have a point. This whole lifestyle is extreme. I sigh, looking to Joker, and smile at him when I see he’s staring. “What?” I ask.
“Ahem,” Miles clears his throat. “Puddin’, I get a little jealous when I see you flashing that grin around at the minions. Save it for me.”
I laugh. It’s the first time the entire week I let out a small chuckle.
Joker shakes his head. “So what’s the plan? Because I take it you do have a plan?” He looks at Raze.
Raze sits forward, taking a cigar out of the humidor. I pick up the clipper, pulling his hand in mine and snipping the end off the cigar for him before flicking open the Zippo. He raises his cigar to his mouth and I light it for him.
“Oh, I have a plan. It involves Beast and his crew.”
“How?” I ask, turning toward him and placing the Zippo back on the table.
“They’re lining up one of their own to go undercover and basically play sex slave to Ikea. We can’t just kill her, because she already has someone in place to take her spot should anything happen to her.”
“And what’s so bad about that?” Royal asks, eyebrows raised.
“Good question,” I mutter.
Raze puffs on his cigar. “Because if someone else takes her spot, I have to build a level of respect with that person. I already have it with Ikea. I’m not delaying this shit any more than I already have to.”
“And then what? What happens after you successfully get someone in there with her?”
He looks to me. “It will take time, baby. He will have to be in there for some time to be able to gain the level of power we’re needing.”
I scoff. “So you need to make her fall in love with him?”
Raze looks at me. “Precisely.”
“And who are they sending in?” I ask, my eyebrow cocked.
He grins around his cigar. “Frost.”
MILES SHUTS MY DOOR, AND I follow his lead up to the police station. They called my cell phone this morning, needing me to come in for questioning, and since Raze is away in LA, Miles is taking me. He’s been at home since he rose from the dead anyway. He said he’s been staying in an apartment close to the Beehive—whatever the hell that is—but that he doesn’t have to stay there. According to him, Joker and Angel suck at keeping me on a leash, and also according to him, the only owner who should be on the other end of any leash I’m connected to should be either Raze or him, no one else. Go figure.
“I wonder what they want?” I whisper.
Miles’ arm hooks around my waist, pulling me into him more. I push my dark hair out of my face and look up to Miles, following the sharp edges of his jaw and the tattoos that cover his neck. “You’re still a good-looking son of a bitch.”
He looks down at me, putting his aviators on over his eyes and popping the collar to his suit shirt. “Like that will ever change.”
I pinch him roughly, and his hand goes to the spot I squeezed him. “Ouch!”
I roll my eyes, taking the steps up toward the double sliding doors. “Oh please.” Grasping the door handle, I mutter, “I swear I just want one week where we can do something normal and nothing illegal.”
He looks at me, his smile faltering slightly. “Come on, let’s see what they want.”
I drop down onto the chair in one of the officer’s rooms and he walks in, clutching a coffee in one hand and a manila folder in the other.
“Sorry.” He gives me a small smile, shutting the door behind himself. “One of those mornings.”
Miles flicks his fingers. “Yeah, yeah, Barret, get on with it. Places to go, women to fuck, and all that.”
I look to Miles, widening my eyes. He winks at me, and then looks back to Officer Barret with complete seriousness. Of course. I shake my head to myself. Of course, Donavon Barret. He’s in Raze’s pocket.
“Sorry I had to call you down here, Millie. It’s just protocol, so people don’t ask questions on why I go to you and you don’t come here.” He brushes it off. “So anyway, we wanted to ask you about that day.”
I nod. “Sure.”
“Do you remember anything about the car that hit you?” he asks, opening the folder and taking a sip of his coffee.
“Black Ford Raptor, I think. It was massive and had bull bars on the front.”
“Did it look like he was attempting to stop?” he asks, watching me carefully. “Forgive me, but we have to ask these questions, considering the nature of the man you’re currently seeing.” I go to open my mouth, when Miles fat gob beats me to it.
“Barret,” Miles says calmly.
“Yes?”
“Keep him out of this discussion, and they’re more than seeing each other.”
“Right,” Barrett agrees, his cheeks turning red. “Of course, my apologies.”
“No need to apologize.” I shake my head. “To answer your question, I don’t think he tried stopping. In fact,” I say, thinking over what little memories I have of that day, “I might go so far as to say he was speeding up. I mean, he had fifty yards to stop, but he didn’t. There was a huge gap between the end of the stop sign and my car, and—”
“Okay, puddin’.” Miles rests his hand on my knee. “Just breathe. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He gives me a reassuring squeeze and then looks back to Barret. “Is this what you’re implying?”
Barrett pauses briefly before nodding. “That’s what we’re thinking. Because like Millie said, the distance between where the truck was to stop and her car was far too short for that amount of impact had he been going at an average speed. He would’ve had to floor it in order to cause that amount of damage.”
“Fuck.” Miles pulls out his phone, punching in some numbers and then bringing it to his ears. “Yeah, we’re gonna need to talk.” Then he hangs up and reaches for my hand.
I look to Barret and smile. “Thanks for the information.”
He nod
s. “No problem. Oh, and Miles?” he prompts, standing from his chair. “Tell Raze I’ll let you know if I find out anything else.”
Miles nods briefly and then drags me out the door. Walking back outside, his phone rings in his pocket, and he shoves me behind his body protectively. “Yeah? I don’t know. Barret seems to think, and he has hard evidence, that the accident wasn’t an accident. Yeah. Yeah, okay. All right.” He hangs up the phone and then tugs on my hand, leading me toward the car again.
“Miles?” I whisper, as he pulls open the passenger side door and gestures for me to get in. I obey, clicking my seatbelt on as he jumps into the driver’s seat. “What’s going on?”
He pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
“Someone intentionally tried to kill you,” he states, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “That’s a fucking problem with me.”
“Oh,” I utter, looking back toward the road. “What’s new?”
He looks at me. “You think this is funny?”
I shrug. “I mean, ever since I’ve been in Vegas, people have wanted to kill me. I’m used to it.”
“This is not funny, Millie.”
“Miles.” I look back at him. “They killed my fucking daughter. If anyone is taking them out, it’s me. Not you, not Raze—me.”
Miles ignores me and continues driving.
“IF I FIND OUT THAT any of your people are behind this accident, mark my words, I will kill you my-fucking-self.” I lean back into the chair that’s sitting opposite Ikea and watch her closely.
“I know,” she says, shaking her head. “But it wasn’t us. Why, Raze?” she gets up from her seat and walks to my side of the table, leaning back on her hands and crossing her long legs in front of me. “You and I both know that if I wanted her dead, she would be dead.”
“If that thought even crosses your mind, Ikea, I’ll know and I’ll end you myself.”
She pauses, and then chuckles lightly before pushing off the table and walking back to her chair.
“Why else did you want me to come see you?” I ask.
