by Naomi West
“Fired! Me? This was my business,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest.
“That’s not what any of the paperwork says.”
I tapped my chin with a fingernail, pursing my lips. “Are you sure? Are you sure there’s not a single piece of paperwork you have lying around with my name still on it?”
Janice’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You keep very meticulous records, I know,” I said, waving my hand at the six men. All of them stepped forward at once, each grabbing one of the filing cabinets and sorting through the papers on the inside of each of the drawers. I was rewarded with the already pale skin of Janice’s pretty face paling even more, giving her a ghost-like complexion. “I have a feeling there were a couple of pieces of paper you might have had to hold onto that still bore my name.”
The men had found a few pieces of paper, and they pulled them out, piling them on the desk. I picked up the first one, examining it with a critical eye. “Hmm, white out. Very creative. I wonder what might be under that?”
Janice looked a little green around the gills as she sat down hard in her office chair, her eyes locked on mine. “What do you want?” she croaked, her whole body quivering.
Sitting down on the corner of her desk, I put my face as close to hers as I could bear, a small smile on my lips. I let the flames of my hatred for her burn, the flames reflecting on my face. “I want my life back, you selfish bitch.” She shook her head and kept shaking it, her eyes too wide and her nails digging into the wood of my desk. I brushed her fingers away. “Janice, my dear, you’re going to ruin the varnish on my desk.”
“This is my desk!” she shouted, her voice filled with incredulity.
I laughed, watching as the potential papers with my name buried in them piled higher and higher on the desk. It wasn’t a large stack, but it was big enough to make Janice look truly ill. “Only because you stole it.”
“You never break the rules, Ivy; what- What?” I found great joy in watching her sputter with disbelief. “What happened to you?”
“You did,” I answered, tapping the end of her nose with my nail. “Do you know what it’s like to scrape together a living from nothing? What it’s like to live a shithole? To get a job at a shitty diner so you can finish off your customer’s plates of food because you can’t afford to pay for your own?”
Janice swallowed hard again, her eyes so wide that I could see white all the way around her irises. “N-n-n-no,” she managed to strange out.
I leaned a little closer, making Janice’s breath hitch. “You will soon,” I whispered. “Funny thing. We could have both been successful. There was enough room for us both here. But you had to go and get greedy and fuck it all up for us both.”
Carlos chuckled darkly from behind me. A thrill went through my whole body. This felt so good, so incredibly right. This was mine, and I was going to take it. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I felt like someone completely new. And I liked it.
“As I see it, my old friend, you have two choices.” I stood and walked around the desk. “We can settle this like adults; I think that’s the best solution to our problems.” I handed her the unsigned contract I’d made up that morning, signing over everything back to me. Janice made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. “Or, we can do this the hard way.”
“W-w-w-hat’s the hard way?”
“I take all of these papers here with my name on them, and we burn this place to the ground.” I fanned myself with the papers, a wicked grin on my mouth. “With you inside. Either way I win. I either get my store or the insurance. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I’ll call the police!” Janice said, her voice breaking like a teenaged boy’s.
I chuckled, grinning back at Carlos. “Oh, I wouldn’t suggest it.”
Janice looked back at Carlos, too; whatever she saw there scared her so bad, I was pretty sure she was going to pee herself. “Fine! You- you win.”
“I do, don’t I?” I answered, handing her a pen. “Sign it.”
“You are not Ivy Simmons,” Janice said as she put the pen to the paper. She scribbled her name down, her hands shaking.
“I am; I’m not the doormat you tried to make me into anymore. I met some people who helped me find my spine. Cool story, isn’t it?” I smiled as I swiped the paper out of her hands. “Now, I would suggest taking this $20 and catching a cab out of town. If we ever see you back within city limits, I’ll have some friends come to visit.”
Janice stood up from my desk, collected the twenty and her purse and walked out, her whole body quivering with fear. I hugged the contract to my body, grinning wildly as I looked around. Mine. It was mine again.
But that wild joy didn’t last long.
Within seconds of Janice disappearing, I heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle pull up to the storefront, the sound rattling the foundations. My temporary elation shattered into a million pieces. Creed was bound to be furious; there wasn’t anything I could do about that.
Taking a deep breath, I walked out of my store, Carlos and his men close on my heels.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Creed
Fucking bitch. I’m going to kill her. How dare she?
I received the text from Carlos while sitting outside of his hideout, waiting for someone to emerge. So now, here I was, riding as fast as my bike would take me over to the supplied address. She had made a deal with Carlos, that bitch. She needed to learn her place.
Fuming, I slid into the parking lot, leaping off the bike. I was ready for war. I would kill Carlos, kill anyone he had with him, and I would make Ivy pay for her disobedience. That idiot was going to ruin everything.
It was silent outside of the shop, and I waited, my breath puffs of white smoke in the icy cold air. After a few moments of quiet, a door opened behind me. I whirled to find seven men and Ivy filing out of the little store. Among the men was that asshole Carlos.
“Carlos!” I called, my voice harsh with the cold and my seething anger. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Fuming, I watched as the leader of the Carrion Club turned, his eyes coming to rest on my Ivy. She frowned, then looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Creed, I think we need to talk.”
“Talk?” I said, stepping towards them. “You want to talk now?” Rage burned along every inch of my veins until I thought I might combust from it. I took another step forward.
A bullet buried itself in the gravel by my toes. I paused, looking down at the little hole in the road, disbelief overriding the rage in my system. “You shot at me!”
“I shot near you,” Ivy said. Her fingers were still wrapped around the gun. I had no idea where she had gotten it or where she’d learned to shoot. Despite the fact that I didn’t want to, I found myself admiring the curly-haired idiot her spunk. “But the next one might be at you if you don’t listen!”
“Alright, Ivy. You have my attention,” I held up both my hands. “Make it quick.”
Sighing in relief, Ivy turned to Carlos. “Carlos, you know Creed. Creed, this is Carlos. You two have a lot in common. Including your desire to get rid of the cartel before it takes over the whole town. Things will get bad if you let them move in. You both know it.”
I could feel pressure building in my chest. “So what?”
“Do you know who Christine Alvarez is?” Carlos asked, folding his muscled arms over his chest. “Or did you think she is exactly who she said she is?”
My eyes narrowed at him. “What do you mean?”
He cleared his throat, nodding to one of his men. The guy, holding out his hands to let me know he wasn’t armed, stepped forward with some photos in his hands. I narrowed my eyes at them, unsure if I wanted to take them or not.
But curiosity won out. I didn’t know where Christine came from. And I wanted to know. “I thought she was just some messenger for the cartel.”
“She is now,” Carlos said as his man retreated. I glanced down at th
e photos in my hands, trying to make sense of the pictures I was seeing. Family portraits, Christine at the center, her smile and blonde hair completely unmistakable. But the people who surrounded her…
“This is a portrait of the Rodgers family?” I whispered, my eyes locked on the photos. They had to be Photoshopped, right?
But they weren’t. All of them were printed on that weird copyright paper that professional photographers used. They were high resolution originals. It had to be real.
The Rodgers family was a rival gang from a nearby city, one that had a smaller population and less potential clients for the drugs we had here, even shared between the Edge and Carrion. He’d tried for our territory before Kelly’s rise to power. Carlos’ father had come together with our leader at the time to chase the Rodgers out of the city.
“That’s right. They are trying to get the cartel to weaken the area so they can take control. Christine Alvarez is about as cartel as I am. And her real last name is Rodgers. She doesn’t have any official ties to the cartel at all; she’s acting as a middle man.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” But he wasn’t. He really wasn’t. There was a seriousness to their faces, a worry that permeated everything Carlos said. “So it’s true. And Kelly is giving her the go to invade.”
Carlos nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “We want Kelly out. We have made invasion plans of our own for the Devil’s Edge, but we don’t want to have to implement them. The loss of even some of your people would weaken our position here, giving the Rodgers a footing in the territory, with or without the cartel.”
I shook my head, staring down at the photos. “This is--” But I couldn’t seem to talk around the lump that was building in my throat. What we almost let happen, what Kelly was trying to do…
“We are willing to declare a truce if and only if you kill Kelly.” Carlos’ eyes burned into mine, and I began to feel lightheaded.
“How am I supposed to get away with that?” I asked, punching the wall next to me. This whole situation was bullshit. I was ready to murder Kelly. But it was against the rules to just walk up to him and shoot him. I had to challenge him or make him admit his guilt. But he would never accept a challenge at the moment, not with the cartel contracts on the table.
I’ll have to corner him. Make him admit more than he means to. A tiny bit of an idea was forming in my mind. Carlos watched me carefully, his eyes studying whatever emotions came over my face as I pondered my predicament.
It would be tricky, but it might just work.
“If I succeed, I would like to reinstate the old terms we had between our gangs, Carlos. If I’m head of the Edge, I want this nonsense to end between us.”
He nodded, a wicked smile on his face. “Of course. I agree completely. Get rid of Kelly and the cartel, and we will reinstate the old treaties again. Fail and we invade. Do we have a deal?”
“What if the cartel comes anyway?” I asked, not really wanting to think about it.
“We will fight them together and defend our soil.” He looked so sure of himself like that was a possible thing. Like it was obvious. I only hoped we had the manpower to drive them away.
I felt like there was some kind of a catch I was missing, but I didn’t have time to think it through. I held out my right hand, the other hand held out away from my left side. I wanted it obvious that I wasn’t going for any weapons. Carlos tucked the wicked-looking blade he’d been holding back into its sheath and shook my hand without hesitation. “Thank you, Creed. I think you just save both of our people.”
“I sure as shit hope so. If not, I’ve made a huge mistake.” I curled my hands into fists, thoughts of all of the violence I wanted to inflict on Christine filling up my mind. She would pay for her deceit. Kelly would pay, too, for falling for her disguise without trying to find out who she really was. Twice the fool.
“As soon as the Edge is in my control, I’ll let you know. And you can call off your attack dogs,” I said. I watched as the seven of them all nodded, turned, and walked away. They all looked slightly relieved, or maybe that was my imagination. If they were smart, they will be relieved.
Feeling oddly lighter, I watched as the Carrion Club walked away, their shoulders a little straighter than when we started. They rounded the corner, leaving me alone with Ivy.
She turned around and locked the door of the store with a set of keys I’d never seen before. She stared at me, her chocolate eyes as hard as glass. Where had that weak, mousy woman I’d met only a couple of weeks ago disappear to? I almost didn’t recognize her.
“I got my life back, and you will get your gang,” she said warily, her eyes tracing the outline of my face. She’d put the gun away and stood in the doorway of this little shop, no, her little shop, and looked like a totally different Ivy. “My store is mine again. I have everything I was always afraid to go out and get for myself.”
I stared at her, trying to get a read on the thoughts spilling across her features. “And?”
“Am I still your woman?”
I narrowed my eyes, staring at her beautiful face through slitted eyes. “You will always be my woman. Whether you like it or not.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ivy
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t backhand you right now in the middle of this parking lot.”
I’d expected anger, but I wasn’t quite prepared to answer to violence. I swallowed around the sudden lump in throat, having to work to meet Creed’s eyes. “I did exactly what you told me to do,” I snapped at him, anger mixing with my fear. I felt kind of ill; it was probably the cocktail of my complete lack of sleep along with the dangerous blend of strong emotions, but I suddenly felt ill.
I took a step forward, but there seemed to be no ground below me anymore. Then I was floating. I heard a voice. It was rough and masculine and really familiar, but I was having a hard time processing information. I was pretty sure the voice cursed, then said something like: “You have to sleep, or else there’s nothing left when the adrenaline is gone.” I wasn’t sure what all that meant, but I really, really didn’t care. All I cared about was the way the floating felt, and the creeping darkness that closed over me like a water.
When I woke up, I felt awful. But I was laying down somewhere comfortable, and I was warm. Those two things were all that were important for a while. Slowly I began to drift out of my dreams and back into reality. “Where am I?” I croaked, hoping someone was around to answer.
“Dad brought you here,” a familiar voice said. There was a tapping against the floor. Most likely Josh’s little, sneakered feet against the floor. “It’s another shitty motel; I hate this place. The bathroom smells weird. But we’re not staying here long.”
I opened my eyes, trying to focus on what Josh was saying, My brain felt a little too big for my skull and it throbbed in time with my heartbeats. “Man, I don’t feel too good. Do you know what happened to me?” I couldn’t remember much, and the memories that were returning were jumbled and messy.
“You apparently went against Dad’s orders and went to go take your store back with Carlos.” My eyes came into focus well enough that I could see Josh’s face all wrinkled up in disgust. “I don’t know why you had to call him.”
I sat up, feeling bile rise in my throat. But I managed to keep it down. “Do we have some water?”
He pointed next to me. “On that table thingy.”
I glanced to my right; there certainly was a bottle of water on the nightstand. It was room temperature, but it tasted like icy mountain stream to my parched throat. After downing half the bottle, I felt much better. “Did I pass out?”
“Yeah, I think you did,” Josh shrugged his shoulders, his eyes still glued to the TV. “Dad said some something about you not drinking water and not sleeping and you just passed out.” Josh leaned his elbows on the bed, turning to stare into my face. “That was pretty dumb; why didn’t you sleep?”
“I was getting things done. It’s not smart to
skip sleep, but sometimes you don’t have a choice.” I frowned. “Sometimes adults can be a stupid as little kids.”
Josh chuckled. “Are you hungry? Dad left us some pizza and cookies.”
“Do you know where your dad went? Did he take Carlos’ advice?” I asked, suddenly feeling a puddle of dread fill my stomach. My memories returned to me in a sudden downpour, and I kind of wished I was still passed out. “How long has he been gone? Do you know where he went?”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ivy. One question at a time, okay?”
I took a deep breath and sat up a little more, glancing around the room. It was a pretty generic motel room; there was a single bed, a TV which was currently blasting cartoons at a completely unreasonable volume, and a small nightstand. There didn’t even appear to be a closet or a kitchenette. So Creed doesn’t expect us to stay here for long then. It must mean he’s doing something about Kelly. But what will he do?
