by Amo Jones
“Why?” I ask. “Where are you going?”
“I have to handle something personally. It’s nothing big.”
Miles taps my knee. “Come on, puddin’. Let’s get your shit ready.”
“Why are you being secretive?” I confront Raze, pulling out of Miles’ grip.
He scoffs. “I’m not being secretive, Millie. Go with Miles.” He tosses back his water and pushes his seat back, dropping a stack of bills on the table and pretty much dismissing me.
I laugh sarcastically, shaking my head. Miles mumbles, “Here we go,” and Joker snorts beside him.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck you’re doing. What? Are you seeing someone else? Like, what, Raze? Because you haven’t opened up to me since we lost Iris, and it’s fucking freaking me out!”
“Shut the fuck up, Millie,” he seethes, gripping my arm and pulling me up.
I pull out of his brace. “No!” I point my finger into his chest. “Fuck you! I wanted to do this in hopes that you would maybe open up to me a little more, but obviously, I don’t mean fucking shit, or you would have.” I spin around to walk away from him and toward our room, and for the first time ever, he doesn’t chase me.
THE PLANE LANDS, AND I plait my hair into a side fishtail-braid, cuddling into my sweater and sitting alone, away from Miles. For the first time, I just want to be alone. Raze and I have fought before, but the arguments were always fueled with fire. This fight was different. I felt like I was losing him, and I only just got him. A part of me thought I may have overreacted, but another part, a bigger part, was too pigheaded to see it.
Miles walks over to me, dropping into the seat beside me.
“You know,” he starts, leaning back on his seat. “He loves you, Millie.”
Shaking my head, a tear slips from my eye. “I refuse to be a doormat, Miles.”
“What?” he scoffs, turning to face me. He brings his hand up to cup my chin and his thumb caresses my bottom lip. “Fuck, baby. Why would you think you’re a doormat?”
I laugh. “Because! Look at everything he has put me through, what we’ve put each other through. I thought that maybe he had changed, you know, like we had grown closer, and I guess, in a sense, we had. But I have never felt so disconnected from him.”
“When did this start?” he asks, his thumb still playing with my lip.
“I don’t know. I guess it all has sort of built up over time. The lies, losing Iris, getting you back, learning about The Syndicate and Ikea.” I throw my hands up, turning to face Miles. “Is that who he’s with now? Is he already bored with me?” I ask, my voice shaking. “I mean, shit.” I swipe the tears off my cheek angrily. “I’m damaged goods, right? I couldn’t even keep his fucking kid safe.”
“Millie,” Miles whispers sadly, shaking his head. His eyes shutter and his face morphs into confusion.
He goes to open his mouth, but I shake my head. “Don’t. You don’t need to fill my head with words. Words don’t mean anything,” I tell him, looking out the window. “They mean jack shit.”
Pulling up to the house after we land, I instantly know something is wrong. The Victorian windows that are so elegantly placed around the old cobblestone house are shattered, and there’s an eerie whisper that’s whisking through the air. Miles pulls out his Glock, and I reach into my handbag to pull out my Desert Eagle. He looks to me briefly before glancing back out the window, and then his head whips back to my gun.
“What the fuck?” he whispers. “Who the ever-loving fuck let you own a damn .50 cal?”
“Um,” I say, looking to the side. “Your boss. Let’s go.”
I go for the door and he pulls me backward. “Sit your fucking ass down, puddin’. You are not coming in with me.” He bangs on the glass that separates us and the driver. The driver lowers the window, and Miles looks at him. “Don’t let her out.”
That won’t work. I’ll just threaten him. I won’t let Miles know that though, because it will give him time to figure out another plan at keeping me away.
“You, me, and Raze are going to talk about you owning a weapon like that,” he states, pointing his own at it. “Shooting something with that kind of power requires training. Jesus fucking Christ, I’ll kill him for giving you that fuckin’….” He’s still spurting profanities as he’s getting out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind himself, and walking across the road. The SUV with the rest of the boys pulls up behind us, and I watch as they all jump out with their weapons drawn. They’re all here except Angel, which is interesting. Usually, when Miles isn’t with Raze, it’s almost always Joker who stays with Raze, not Angel. I watch as they go in behind Miles, all with a weapon raised. I roll my eyes and look at the new young driver.
“Are we going to sit here and pretend like you’re not going to let me out of this car, or what?” I ask, looking down at my gun. “Either way, pretty boy, I’m getting out of here. So,” I say, waving my gun around and rolling my eyes. “You can either let me out now, or I can shoot you. You know, nowhere crazy, though.” I giggle, my eyes darkening. “Just in the leg or something.” I wink, and he swallows roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
I slowly raise my gun, and he throws up his hands. “Okay!” he yells. “Fuck, whatever, man. I’m just doing this for extra cash!”
I grin, leaning over the seat and placing a small kiss on his neck. “Thanks.” Then, I open the door, still grinning at him as I step out. He smiles at me politely before he freezes and his eyes go over my shoulder. It all happens so fast. A bullet plows through a silencer, red splattering all over the windshield and car, as the young driver’s lifeless eyes fall to the back of his head and his blood squirts out, skimming the tip of my tongue. I whip my head around just in time for the back of a gun to come crashing into my face, knocking me out cold.
“YEAH?” I GRIN AT HER, dropping down to the chair I’m way too fucking familiar with. “Why?”
“Well.” Ikea grins at me and Angel. “I just want to be careful, baby,” she coos, her finger caressing down the side of my face.
“Yeah, I get that, but why the fuck lead me here, to do a job, only to find you here instead. You playing games with me, Ikea? ‘Cause that wouldn’t be a very fucking smart thing to do.” I tilt my head.
Angel clears his throat. “What the fuck’s going on?” He only ever clears his throat if something is fishy to him. Figures. This whole fucking thing is fishy, but there’s a reason why she wanted me here, obviously, and now I just have to figure out what her fucking game is.
She pushes off her desk and rounds it, dropping back onto a dusty old chair. When we pulled up to the industrial building, I knew something was wrong. The man she had used as hit bait was CEO of Lance Traders. You wouldn’t find someone like him in a place like this, but I know, regardless of my suspicions, I would’ve still had to come in.
She reaches for a remote, pressing a button and pointing it toward the old box television sitting in the corner. The fuzzy white noise fills the room before the picture clears and Millie’s face comes in. I shoot up off my chair, launching myself at Ikea instantly. One of her guards blocks me from her, but my hand goes straight to his throat and Angel tackles the other guard. Ikea, not having anyone else in here, reaches into her pocket and shoots a gun in the air. “Get the fuck back!” Then she aims it at Angel’s leg, squeezing the trigger with a pop! Angel lets out a howl, clutching the side of his thigh as blood seeps between his fingers.
I stare at her, my chest heaving. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Relax, Raze. The queen is still safe. Heard she shot one of my men though. We are going to have to talk about that.”
She what? I don’t care. All I care about is why the fuck my girl is on a TV screen with blood coming from a head wound and duct tape stuck over her fucking lips.
“You have three seconds to explain your shit, Ikea, or I swear to God, whether you kill me or not, I’ll be taking you down with me, and that’s a mother
fucking promise.”
She places the remote on the table. “There’s something of your father’s that is mine.”
“What?” I whisper. “You fucking took my fucking girl because you want something from me from my piece-of-shit father?”
She curls her finger to someone behind me, and Shelby walks in. There’s something different about her though. She once held a stubborn shoulder and strong smile. Now… now she looks malnourished and submissive. Robotic—she looks robotic. I have no doubt she will be getting used as a test subject again.
“Shelby, why don’t you tell Raze what I need?”
So she’s still using Shelby as her little dirty slave. I can sympathize with Shelby in a way. None of our shit in this world makes sense, but her reason for wanting revenge on Beast and Hella made perfect sense to me. They took a lot from her, robbed her of her childhood, which consequently put her in Ikea’s father’s hands. Bullshit like that.
“There was a formula.” Ikea takes her eyes off Shelby and brings them to me. “A very important formula that your mother cooked up.”
“Schyronide?” I nod. “I don’t know where the fuck it is.”
“Well, you will have to find it.”
“Or what?” I seethe. “You lay one hand on that girl’s head, I’ll kill you all.” I smirk at her. “Don’t fuck with me when it comes to Millie, Ikea.”
She rolls her eyes, waving her hands in the air. “No need for theatrics, Raze. I—along with the rest of the world—know just how precious your little queen is to you. She’s free to go home. This,” she points to the TV, “was to show you just how capable I am at taking what I want. The boys made a bit of a mess at your place though. Sorry about that.”
I laugh, standing from my seat and walking to her side. Her eyes dart to the door before coming back to me. I scare her. Good. Dropping down to her level, my hand flies to her throat and I squeeze, just enough to get my point across.
“Hmm.” I laugh. “You seriously think you’re going to get away with this shit that easy?” My grip tightens and her face turns purple.
“Raze, let go,” she mutters between strained breaths.
I tilt my head. “You will call a company and have my shit back exactly how your little bitch boys found it. And,” I say, letting go of her throat and stepping back, “I want whoever it was who put his fucking hands on her.”
“Raze—”
“Unless, of course, you’re volunteering?” I question her. “Because no one touches Millie and lives to tell about it.” She watches me closely, and then exhales.
“Fine. Told the little shit not to touch her.”
Her guard nods. “Raze, she told him clearly not to touch her, and I quote ‘Raze is the kingpin of the underworld, yes, but he’s also intellectually unhinged and that crazy bitch right there, is his queen.’ You have our word it wasn’t intended.”
“Your word doesn’t mean shit to me. I don’t know you.” I look down to Ikea. “I’ll ask you once, and once only, and you see Angel there?” I nudge my head over my shoulder. “He has a specialty that I just love. Want to know what it is?” I ask her, cocking my head. She nods, so I carry on. “Before he joined me, he was in the military as a human lie detector. The man is,” I chuckle, “one-hundred percent accurate.” She looks to Angel with newfound interest, and then looks back to me.
“Go on. Ask me,” she says. “I have nothing to hide from you, Raze.”
“Did you have anything to do with Millie being involved in a car wreck?”
Instant. “No.”
I look up at Angel, and after a few seconds, he looks to me and nods. I push off her chair and walk toward the door. “Oh, and Ikea?” I prompt, turning around to look at her over my shoulder just as my hand reaches the door handle. “You pull that shit again, and I will kill you.” Then I walk out the door, dialing Miles.
“Fuck, Raze, I don’t—”
“Get the locket.”
“Now? But Millie—”
“I know, and I’m going to get her.”
“I’m coming,” Miles announces.
I pick up my pace toward my car. “Has Drago been able to lock in where she is?”
“Yeah, did Ikea not tell you where she is?”
“Oh,” I say, opening my door and getting into the driver’s seat, “she’s going to, but I’m not waiting on her.” I slam the door closed, hang up, and fire up my car, dialing Drago. He answers. “Got it?” I ask.
“Yeah, sending the details to you now.”
I hang up my phone and pull out of the parking spot, following the directions to a warehouse.
“MAN, I NEED TO GO to the hospital,” one of the little dweebs cries, clutching his leg. I roll my eyes, my hands bound behind my back and tape slicked over my mouth.
The other guy looks at me, pressing on the wound, attempting to staunch the bleeding. “I told you not to touch her. Ikea will be mad.” I narrow my eyes. Should have known that bitch was a part of this. “And that’s Raze’s woman, man, fuck,” he whispers to his buddy.
After clocking me over the head, I was only out for a few seconds. I think he expected me to be out a lot longer. I flew up from the van floor they tossed me onto, snatching his gun that was immaturely left beside him, and shot him straight in the leg. Thinking back, I should have shot the driver, and then maybe I wouldn’t be here right now. One of the boys’ phone rings, and he takes his hand off the wound, answering it.
“Yeah?” He looks to me, fear brushing over his face for a second. “Okay.” Then he hangs up. “We gotta go right now.”
“Why?” the boy moans from the ground, sweat dripping over his face and distress lines crinkling his forehead.
“Because Raze is coming here in an hour.”
“Tsk tsk,” Raze mutters from the doorframe. “She said an hour?” He laughs, his eyes darkening. Miles comes up behind him, straightening his suit and pulling on his leather gloves with a blank look on his face. “Ikea underestimates my intelligence.”
Miles grins, stepping in front of me. “Think we need to teach the bitch a lesson.” He drops down to my level, removing the tape gently, and then stands back to his feet, his shoulders square. “You don’t fuck with our family.”
Shuffling my ties to the front of myself, I watch as Raze ignores me and walks straight to the young guys.
“Raze,” I snap. “Let the blond one go.”
He pauses. “Why?”
“Because he didn’t do anything.” He carries on toward the two boys, and I look up at Miles. “Miles?”
He smiles weakly at me. “Sorry, puddin’, that’s just not how the cookie crumbles.”
I lean my head back on the wall and watch as Raze lowers himself to the boy I shot. His hand flies up to his throat. He clenches and stands with the boy in his hands, who shakes his head.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Look at me,” Raze tells him, his head tilting. The boy slams his eyes shut.
Raze’s hand comes up to his face before each of his thumbs sink into the boy’s eye sockets. A blood-curdling scream pierces my ears and I stumble up to my feet, pushing my shoulders back.
“Puddin’?” Miles smirks at me. “You sure you wanna see this?”
“I’ve seen death before, Miles,” I whisper, standing beside him. “I see it every time I look into Raze’s eyes.”
Looking back to Raze, I watch as he pulls his knife out from the holster of his suit and stabs it into the side of the boy’s neck, slicing it across his thin flesh. The young man’s eyes pop open, and blood gurgles in his throat as he struggles for his next breath. Raze throws his body onto the ground and looks to the other boy. He tilts his head and starts walking toward him.
“Raze!” I snap. No way am I letting that shit happen.
“Puddin’, don’t interrupt him.”
Fuck that. I’ll interrupt what I want. He’s not killing this boy, when he was the only one who was against hurting me.
I walk toward Ra
ze, and I hear Miles curse under his breath. Darting in front of my man, I swallow roughly, my hands coming up to his hard chest. “No.” Looking into his eyes, I see it. They’re wired like he had been snorting cocaine. Miles is right; I probably shouldn’t interrupt him. He looks as though he’s in the middle of feasting.
His eyes slowly soften as they look between each of mine. I shake my head slowly, running my hands up his chest, down his arms, and then clutching his hand that has the blood-soaked knife in it. “No,” I repeat through a hoarse whisper, taking the knife from him.
His shoulders slouch as he brings his slick, blood-soaked hand to my cheek. The pad of his thumb caresses my lower lip, and he steps forward until his body is flush against mine. Dropping his head, his lips fall onto mine roughly, kissing me before he pulls back. His eyes are still wild, but there’s something else there now too. Humanity? An inch of it, anyway. He tugs on my hand and pushes me behind him before looking to the boy. “You tell Ikea that if she tries to pull this shit again, I’ll rip her fucking throat out myself, along with anyone who rolls with her. Understood?”
The boy nods his head vigorously. “Yes, yes, I will tell her.”
We walk back into the house, and Raze bends down, scooping me into his arms. “Tired, baby?”
I nod, snuggling into his neck. “Yeah.”
He kisses my head, walking us back upstairs to our room.
“Hey,” he says, placing me onto the bed, “I’ll go run the bath. We need to talk.”
I watch as he walks into the bathroom, and I kick off my shoes. He comes back in and takes my hand, pulling me toward the bathtub. The condensation falls over my skin as I undress and slowly dip into the scalding tub. Rubbing the hot water over my face, I dip my hair under and watch as his massive, strong body drops in behind me. He takes the soap in hand, and I lean back against his chest, completely content with our position.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, watching as he rubs circles of bubbles onto my legs.
