Beware the Snake

by Samantha Cade

  I slip the ring onto my finger, just to feel the weight of it again. I don’t want to be who I am right now, bitter, hard, and shouting at receptionists. The real me, the one who picked out the matte ivory invitation with gold foil lettering, is trapped in here somewhere. She’s the one who keeps this sentimental stuff, and convinces me to look at it. No matter what I do, or who I kill, I’ll never be her again. Nothing can bring my old life back, or the future I saw disappear before my eyes. I’m trapped with this grief, this loneliness. If Snake had ended my life last night in the desert, he would’ve been doing me a favor.

  I remember, in vivid detail, the afternoon that wedding planning, champagne happy, designer label person I used to be died. I’d just gotten the call that morning, that Jake’s body had been found. By the time I arrived at the medical examiner’s office to identify him, the news hadn’t sunken in yet. I couldn’t quite believe that Jake was dead. Gone forever.

  A pretty blonde woman in a white coat led me to a cold room. She squeezed my hand, then pulled the white sheet down, revealing Jake’s head. I couldn’t quite believe it was him, though I knew it was. His face was bruised, his cheeks sunken in, and his skin dry and cracked. The top of his head was misshapen. The wound was clean, but I could still see dark, congealed blood, almost the same color of his hair. Gray, bruised puncture wounds circled his lips.

  “That’s him. Thank you,” I said, like she’d just given me the coffee I’d ordered. I tilted my chin up, and started to leave the room, only to collapse to the floor with my first step.

  The blonde woman and a few other men rushed to my aid. They took me to an empty examination room and gave me a bottle of water and a cracker. They left the door open, and I could see Dr. Stone in the hallway, speaking with a man who I’d later learn was Monty Mariano. I watched in confusion as Monty handed Dr. Stone a thick envelope. Dr. Stone slipped the envelope into his jacket pocket, and shook Monty’s hand.

  Moments later, Dr. Stone came to check on me. He told me that Jake’s death had been ruled accidental. When I brought up the wound on his head, and those around his mouth, Dr. Stone shrugged, mumbling something about wild coyotes, then offered his condolences before leaving me with my water and cracker.

  I press my nails into my palm at the memory. I should’ve cursed at him, demanded the truth. I should’ve made him take out that envelope and count the hush money in front of me. Men have always kept me on the outside of their business, my father, Jake, Dr. Stone, while I lived in my tower, spoiled with jewelry and clothes. I was fine with the arrangement before Jake got himself killed. Now, I won’t ever be kept in the dark. Not again.

  Where do I go from here? The tears finally dry up. I clean my face up as best I can, then pull up the quarterly reports. None of the numbers make sense. They all jumble together on the screen, taunting me. None of this matters.

  There’s a quick, assertive knock on my door. I wipe my eyes, hoping my face isn’t too tear ravaged, and call them in.

  “Good morning, Jess,” Steve says, taking measured steps inside of my office. He’s wearing a teal green shirt and gray slacks. He reaches to the lamp in on my desk. “Do you mind? It’s awfully dark in here.”

  I wave my hand at him. “Go ahead.”

  The lamp brightens the room. I squint, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Steve ignores the fact that I resemble a frayed, nocturnal animal. He folds his hands in his lap, peering at me over his glasses. He doesn’t look pleased.

  “There’s something very sensitive I need to discuss with you,” he says in a low voice. “Apparently, there’s been a breech of protocol.”

  He pauses, waiting for me fill in the gaps, and incriminate myself. But I’m too smart for that. I wait patiently for him to continue. He leans forward, cocking an eyebrow.

  “The credit card numbers.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

  A shock goes up my spine. Toby.

  “I received an anonymous tip,” Steve says, as if reading my mind. “There’s no way of knowing where it could’ve come from. Now, I’m sure you realize that compiling information like that is against company policy, and grounds for termination.”

  I keep my cool, even giving him a little smile. “I’m aware. I just wanted to look into something, to see if we could make things more efficient for the customer. The information was never saved, or stored in anyway.”

  Steve looks hopeful. “Is that true? You’re absolutely sure no one else saw it, right?”

  “I’m one hundred percent sure,” I lie. That CD-ROM is with Snake somewhere, along with a pair of my panties that I know he stole.

  Steve collapses back, exhaling, revealing just how nervous he is. He takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. I can tell he wants to yell at me. He just doesn’t have it in him.

  “Just don’t let it happen again, okay?” Steve says. “And let’s just keep this between us. If the execs find out I let this happen on my watch-“ His voice trails off.

  I get up, and gently place my hand on his back, leading him to the door. “Of course, Steve. I apologize for going against company policy. It won’t happen again.”

  “Good, good,” Steve says, mostly to himself.

  Before I close my door, I get a glimpse of Toby, peeking at me from the water cooler. I glare at him, and and he scurries away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Snake

  I’ve been Jess’ shadow for three days now. Her schedule is pretty boring. All she does is drive to work in the morning, then drive home in the evening. While she’s at the office, I leave her to go about my day. With the tracking device on her car, I’ll know the minute she tries to leave her office, and I’ll be hot on her tail.

  That hasn’t happened yet. Work, home, work, home. That’s all she does. I like knowing her every move, knowing where she is at all times. We haven't spoken since I handcuffed her to a towel rack, but I’m always watching.

  One morning, I watch Jess take quick steps towards her office, her round ass swaying in the golden sunlight, then I head to the concrete store. I have a meeting with Monty to update him on our plan. Now that I have the credit card numbers, I don’t need Jess anymore. I just have to watch her.

  I nod to the handful of soldiers there as I make my way to Monty’s office and knock on the door. When I enter, the capo is the middle of breakfast. A plateful of bacon sits on his desk in front of him.

  “I can come back later,” I say.

  Monty shakes his head. “Sit. Talk.”

  Monty crunches a piece of bacon while I pull out the CD-ROM from my jacket pocket.

  “Here they are,” I say. “Thirty million credit card numbers.”

  Monty smiles as he wipes the grease from his chin.

  “That’s good work, soldier. Real good. Where’s your partner?”

  I fiddle with my tie. “She couldn’t make it. Day job, and all.”

  “That’s too bad. I wanted to see that sweet ass again.” He drinks from a mug of milky coffee. “Are you hitting that?”

  “No,” I spit, reflexively.

  Monty taps his coffee mug, his eyes narrowing. “Do you mind if I-“

  My stomach tightens with disgust. Jess would never go for a man like Monty, no matter how much money or power he has. She doesn’t go for that kind of shit.

  “She’s, uh, not very receptive to that kind of thing.”

  Monty raises an eyebrow at me, chuckling. “I see.” He leans forward, folding his hands together. “So, what’s your plan for these numbers?”

  “Nominal charges each month, funneled into an offshore account. I still need to hammer out the details.”

  Monty nods, licking his teeth. “It would make more sense if the charges came from ShopSuite. Like, any time they purchase something from the site, there’s a small surcharge that gets funneled to us.”

  I shake my head. “We’d have to get into the backend of their website to pull that off.”

  Monty throws his hands out, palms facing the ceiling. “Yeah, what’s th
e problem? Jess is a big shot up there, right?”

  All I can do is quietly nod. Monty claps his hands together.

  “It’ll work, soldier,” Monty says. “Things are going to turn around. The Mariano name will command respect once again.” He picks up a piece of bacon, and nibbles the end. “By the way, bring Jess around some time. I need to keep an eye on new faces until they become familiar. You understand.”

  Beads of sweat form on my forehead. I will myself not to wipe them away.

  “Sure. Of course,” I say. We shake hands, and I leave him to his breakfast.

  Shit. It looks like I can’t just cut Jess off. We’ll have to keep up appearances, for the plan, and so Monty doesn’t get suspicious.

  I shove my hands in my pockets and walk towards the shop, hoping no one tries to stop me to talk. I need to figure out how to get Jess to play along, and how to keep her from getting both of us killed. I’m almost to the exit, when I see Salvatore and Anthony talking by the slabs of concrete. I nod at them, hoping to keep going. But Anthony runs up to me, calling my name.

  “What’s up?” I say.

  Anthony tilts his head back, his lips curled. “I’ve got a question for you, Snake. You like tequila?”

  I think my heart stops beating, just for a second. I look up at the ceiling and shrug.

  “It’s okay. Not usually my drink of choice.”

  “Uh-huh,” Anthony says, looking at me up and down. “As you know, someone stole the capo’s tequila at the party the other night. You know anything about that?”

  “Nah,” I say, waving him off. “They probably made a mistake in the kitchen. Those things happen.”

  “Right, right.” Anthony takes his hands out of his pocket, and rolls his sleeves up to his elbow. “The strange thing is, the empty bottle was found in a trashcan in the backroom of the kitchen. It’s like someone drank the whole damn thing, or poured it out. Who’d do something like that. And why?”

  I glance back at Salvatore. He’s watching me with his cold eyes, waiting for me to say something.

  I push past Anthony towards the door.

  “Wish I could help with your investigation, but I have actual business to attend to. See you, Sal.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jess

  Snake is always there when I leave work. I’ve grown used to his watchful eye. I even find myself looking for him at the end of the day. He’s always in the same spot, across the street from my office building, parked at a meter. Today, when I come out of the front door, I look over there right away. His regular spot is empty.

  I stop walking, my heels skidding against the concrete. Where is he? Is he watching me from somewhere? I jerk my head around, looking for him. My palms begin to sweat. If he’s not watching me, something could happen. What if the other soldiers found out what I did, and Snake was taken off watch? It’s strange, and I hate myself for it, but I feel safer with Snake around.

  A short, quick honk gets my attention. There’s a silver Acura parked a few yards away in the employees’ lot. My heart starts to pound. Who is that? Then the window rolls down, revealing Snake’s cocky smile. I remember that the black BMW he was driving was on loan.

  “Looking for me?” he calls.

  Shit, did he see me panicking? I cover up my embarrassment with a sneer, then shoulder my bag and make for my car.

  “Yo, wait,” Snake calls.

  I whirl around and face him. Snake casually gets out of the car, his long, lean legs dressed in a black suit unfolding beneath him. I’d forgotten just how tall he is until he stretches up to his full height. He leans against the car, casually lighting a cigarette.

  I left the office a little early, and in a few minutes, this parking lot will be swarming with my underlings. They already think I’m a raging bitch. I can’t let them see me mingling with the mob. I walk up to him as quickly as my heels will allow.

  “What do you want?” I snap.

  Snake coolly gestures to the car. “Get in.”

  I know I’ll have to eventually do what he says, but I won’t let him win that easily.

  “Did you come to pay me back for the damage you did to my bedroom? Or give me back the underwear you stole?”

  Snake peers down at me through the dark canopy of his lashes. “You noticed?”

  “Of course, I noticed.” Heat rises from my flesh at the thought of him pocketing my panties.

  “You take inventory?” he asks, cocking his head. “Or were you looking for something else in that drawer?”

  An electric jolt makes me zip my thighs together. He’s talking about my vibrator, which wasn’t in the exact spot I’d left it in before he searched my room. Snake opens his coat just wide enough to show me the silver gun glinting in the holster on his side.

  “Let’s not waste anymore time,” Snake says.

  I plant my feet on the ground. “If you don’t leave, I’ll scream.”

  The side of Snake’s mouth twitches with an arrogant, lopsided grin. “No, you won’t. Because if you do that, people will start asking questions, and it won’t be long until they find out what you’ve been up to.” He walks over to me, and takes my hand in his. “I’m the only one who knows what a bad girl you are. Let’s keep it that way. Come on.”

  I snarl at him as he leads me to the passenger seat of the car.

  “Does this one lock from the outside too?” I ask, sliding inside.

  Snake shakes his head. “No. That’s just Salvatore’s car.”

  While he drives away from the office building, I study Snake. He doesn’t seem as tense and hostile as the other night. He doesn’t act like a man who’s about to commit murder. But then again, how would I know.

  I eventually realize that we’re driving towards his apartment. I break the silence.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “I thought we could have a business meeting over a couple of sandwiches. You hungry?”

  I sit back in the seat, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do I have a choice?”

  Snake doesn’t say anything, but I know the answer. He parks the car, then we walk up to the Italian grocer. Snake’s hand is on me the entire time, either lightly resting on the small of back, or gently grasping my arm. He’s sending a clear signal that he’s in control. I don’t fight him, for now.

  The guys behind the sandwich counter recognize Snake when walks in.

  “The usual?” a young, bearded guy wearing plastic gloves shouts. His name-tag proclaims that he’s Rick.

  Snake nods, then flashes Rick two fingers. We find a table towards the back of the restaurant and settle in. He’s acting so casually, I start to get nervous. Has he lured me here? Are the guys making our sandwiches in on it? Is someone pointing a gun at the back of my head right now?

  “Relax,” Snake says. He reaches across the table and grabs my hand briefly. “You’re safe with me.”

  I hate how perceptive he is of my every move. Nothing gets by him. I ignore the warm feeling his words give me. “What’s this about? You got what you wanted from me.”

  “I need more.”

  I pause, biting my lip. What does that mean? What does he want? Is whatever compelled him to take my underwear the same as what compelled him to take me to dinner tonight?

  “I don’t have anything else to offer you,” I say, stubbornly.

  “I doubt that,” Snake says, darkly. He straightens his tie and focuses his gaze. “Before we get started, let me make something crystal clear.” He leans forward, lowering his voice. “If you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, you’re dead. And if our plan doesn’t work, we’re both dead.”

  Disappointment thuds in my stomach. This is about business. What did I think this was, a date?

  “There’s been some changes to the plan,” Snake says, folding his hands on the table. “It’s going to be a lot more involved than I originally thought. We need the charges to come from your company’s website each time the customer makes a purchase.”

  My jaw dr
ops. He can’t be serious. I shake my head.

  “I’d have to get the website developer to do that,” I say.

  Snake sweeps his arms out, like it’s no big deal. “Then let’s get him.”

  I think of scared, trembling Toby compromising his morals once again, and can’t help but laugh.

  “Let’s get him,” I say. “Just like that. Let’s get an ordinary, law-abiding citizen to help us commit major credit card fraud.”

  “Keep it down,” Snake warns. “And don’t worry about that. I have ways of convincing people to help me.”

  My eyes drift to the gun at his side. “I don’t doubt that.”

  Snake drums his fingertips against the table, staring me down. “You don’t have to be like that, all cold and sharp edges. I’m willing to let the past live in the past. We can move forward, start fresh, as long as it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Best friends,” I say, lightly, twirling my hair. “Let’s go buy a tandem bicycle and ride down Venice Beach together.”

  Snake turns his head to one side, eyeing me. “Who was it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. It must have been someone close to you. Was it your boyfriend?”

  Anger creeps up the back of my neck. “He was innocent,” I say through my teeth.

  Snake looks up at the ceiling, incredulously. “I doubt that. Listen, you can learn from his mistakes. My guess is, he got in bed with the Mariano’s, and at some point tried to screw them over. Don’t let the same thing happen to you. Don’t end up like him.”

  We’re interrupted by Rick, who delivers our sandwiches, and two bottles of lemon-flavored soda. I stare at the sandwich, piled high with different Italian meats, refusing to eat, but I can’t keep it up for too long. I haven’t had a proper meal in ages, and in all honesty, this looks delicious. The bread is warm in my hands when I pick it up. It’s slightly toasted, and holds up well to the hearty fillings and sauce.