Breaking Bad: 14 Tales of Lawless Love

by Koko Brown

  Plan B. Victoria always made alternate plans of attack.

  “That plane now belongs to me.” Victoria took a deep breath, allowing her chest to poke out. “Which means the pilot works for me. That also means I can go where I please and do what I want.” She pointed down the hall in the direction of the elevator bank. “Get the fuck away from me.”

  The faster she could get him to go, the more relief she would feel. Then there would be another obstacle. Another roadblock. Another potential killer. At that thought, she took a step back, preparing to slam the door in this watchdog’s face.

  Lenny stared at her for a moment with his cold, black eyes. Then he chuckled. That bit of glee soon turned into a full-on belly laugh, complete with him leaning so far back that she couldn’t see his face before he doubled over and rested his hands on his knees.

  “Nice joke, Vic.” He collected himself before standing up straight. “I didn’t realize you had a sense of humor.”

  She started to pull the door closed so that only her body appeared in the doorway. “I’m serious. And the name is Victoria.” She wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting that familiar with her, especially someone who didn’t work for her and that she casually knew.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” Lenny furrowed his eyebrows.

  That question raised Victoria’s temperature. “I don’t need to explain to you or anyone else why I need this trip.”

  He held up his hand as though he needed to calm her hysteria. “No one is faulting you for taking some time for yourself.” He placed his hand on his chest to show her some sort of empathy. “Again, I am so sorry for your loss. Your mother was a kind woman with a good heart. I never pictured her to be the type to want to harm herself.” He started to approach her like he wanted to hold her.

  “I wouldn’t think she would either. But people do desperate things when they feel they have no options.” Needing the liquid courage, Victoria took a drink and set the glass on a table next to the door.

  The acrid liquid burned her throat in the way that pleased her. The taste didn’t smooth out her rough edges. Thankfully, with her in a floor-length wrap dress, Lenny wouldn’t be able to see her knees knocking together.

  She pointed down the hallway again. “I need you to go. I know the reason why you’re here.”

  Lenny crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m here to look out for you. I’ve always protected the Crandall family. You know this.”

  “I know the kind of protection you do. Keeping secrets is not a way to keep someone safe.” She watched him ball his hands into fists, which forced her to see that he had covered both hands with black leather gloves. She continued talking while keeping her stare on his large hands. “People know that I’m here.” She brought her gaze up to the ceiling. “Cameras are on this floor.”

  To confirm her claim, Lenny also peered up as he cracked his knuckles, an eerie, bone-crushing sound that ignited Victoria’s need to fight.

  Damn, why did she have to get the penthouse suite? Too many floors up. She could only imagine the headlines that would be written about her. Virginia Beach Oceanfront Resort Heiress Plunges to Death Shortly After Mother’s Death.

  “Fine. You want to cut the shit?” Lenny’s breathing became heavy.

  “Damn right.” Victoria planted her fist on her hip. “I respond better to honesty.”

  Lenny held up two fingers. “You have two choices. Let me follow you while you’re here or—”

  “Or what?”

  She noticed he looked into her hotel room. Was he checking out her balcony? Damn him. Damn his fucking boss.

  “Why don’t you go home and let your boss know that you failed?” She started to close the door.

  He slammed his hand against it to stop her. “You think you’re going to dismiss me like some dog you found in the street? Do you know who you’re messing with?”

  Victoria didn’t need to name his superior. She knew the devil full well. “Step back, asshole.”

  Victoria had to stop being the nice girl and get down to business. Lenny should have known that she, as a Crandall, could take care of herself. She might not be like her father, but she knew how defuse a volatile situation.

  “Look. Let’s chalk up this irrational talk to you being jetlagged.” He tilted his head as he glared at her with his nearly black eyes. “And with the drinking, you are looking a little tipsy. That’s the perfect cocktail for accidents.”

  Victoria didn’t need to hear him say it. She had suspected the motive of the trip all along, but particularly after she had assessed his attire and demeanor.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave. Not just yet. Not until I complete the task I was sent here to do.” He started to shove his body harder against the door.

  Faster than a blink, Victoria braced her body against the door to keep this predator from getting to her. Even at her statuesque frame, she couldn’t hold Lenny off too long before he muscled his way inside.

  Without a real weapon, Victoria grabbed the closest thing she could use to help her. She picked up her empty glass and smashed it against his head right above his eye. The crash echoed through the empty hallway. She heard the shards hitting the deep blue carpeted floor. With each plop and ping to the floor, she felt a sense of power.

  Victoria didn’t know if the adrenaline, anger or fear prompted it, but her trembling stopped as soon as she made contact.

  “Shit! You bitch.” Lenny stumbled back while covering the side of his face. “Are you crazy?”

  Being called a bitch ignited a fire in Victoria that had been smoldering for a while. After picking up the largest shard of glass from the floor, she pushed Lenny against the wall and put the pointed end to his throat, pressing it hard enough that he winced. A small trickle of blood rolled down to his shirt, coloring the bright white fabric to a pale pink.

  “I’m not crazy. I’m cautious.” She didn’t blink. Too bad she had stopped breathing. “I have been up against worse pieces of shit than you, and have never backed down.” She made sure to plant her feet firmly on the floor. “If you blink at me the wrong way, I will slice that pulsating artery going down your neck and let you bleed out here on the floor. You want that?”

  “No. But do you want eyes on you?” With slow movements, Lenny peered up at the same camera she had referred to earlier.

  Victoria nodded and backed away while still keeping the glass at his throat for as long as she could. When she got close enough to her hotel room door, she stepped inside and held the door.

  Her unwanted guest pulled his hand from his face. Blood covered his gloved hand, evident from the shine, and dripped down from his heavy brow to the carpeted floor. “Damn, it’s not that serious. I was going to—”

  “I know exactly what you were going to do. It’s a thousand degrees here in Vegas. Why else would you be wearing gloves if you didn’t plan on doing something where you wouldn’t be caught?” Again, a shiver raced down her back as she recalled a past incident when she lost her innocence and gain perspective. “All you had to do was tell me the truth.” Victoria shook her head. “Before I call hotel security, and you end up all over the Internet as a sex predator I had to defend myself against, I would strongly suggest that you leave. Now.”

  Lenny snickered. “I wouldn’t fuck you.” He ran the back of his gloved hand over his wound.

  “Same goes for me, too, pal.” As much as Victoria didn’t want his statement to hurt, it did.

  The fact that she hadn’t had a steady boyfriend in over three years gave her the painful reminder of what she had been told about herself in the past. She remained too closed off for anyone to get close. People who got close to her tended to hurt her or get hurt. She didn’t need any more pain.

  Lenny blinked as he stood up straight. “You are making a big mistake. You could have made this so easy if you would have just signed everything over. You can’t handle the businesses.”

  She laughed and leaned her head back like Lenny had moments ago. “So mu
ch for the story that you’re here for my protection. The only mistake I made was thinking I could trust anyone. I can’t trust anyone but me. I can’t even depend on family.”

  Lenny stared at her for a while before his face relaxed. “It might be better for you to stay here and not return to Virginia unless you’re prepared to take a step back. If you do go home, don’t expect a warm welcome.”

  Victoria didn’t need to hear Lenny’s ominous words to know that danger lurked around every corner, particularly close to home.

  “Don’t worry about me. As you can see, I can look after myself.” When she finally returned home, she would have to have eyes in the back of her head to protect herself.

  He backed into the hallway again. “You have no goddamn common sense. You will lose, and lose badly.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first one to tell me that.” She slammed the door.

  Until she turned the lock to secure it, she continued holding her breath. Once she felt safe, she exhaled. She never expected to be chased down so soon. She needed to make plans for her next step.

  Victoria dropped the piece of glass she used to protect herself into a trashcan by the door. She strolled over to the bedroom area when her cell phone rang. Lenny could not be calling her already.

  Victoria picked up her phone from the bar area and stared at the screen. To see the word Crush across the top pushed her body to the edge.

  She didn’t have to say a word when she answered the call.

  “How are you doing, dear?”

  For Crush Crandall to call her dear, even as his daughter, meant something else entirely.

  “What a coincidence that you would call me now.” She tried keeping the sarcasm from her voice. “I just saw one of your employees here. I’m surprised you didn’t make the trip here yourself.”

  “No, I have things to do, businesses to take care of. But I always know when my one and only is not happy. Trust me. I know your every move.” Crush’s voice dropped to a low timbre.

  The tone had her knees knocking even harder. She thought growing up with him had been torturous. Having to look over her shoulders at every turn gave her restless nights.

  Victoria braced her hand on the bar. “You were always a great chess player. But we’re not playing a game now, are we?”

  He snickered. “No, we are not. You have that right.” The line became quiet before he concluded the conversation with this one statement. “You were always so stubborn. I suspect that you will be coming back to Virginia soon.” A beat lingered before he finished his thought or even allowed her to answer. “I’ll be sure to see you when you get home.”

  The line went dead.

  TWO

  Russell ignored his throbbing feet inside of shoes he hadn’t worn in over twelve years. He stood outside of the last home he remembered his mother occupying before his incarceration.

  He stared at the tattered roof with gray shingles that had always needed repair, even when Belle Griffing lived there. Now it clung to dear life to the edge where the rusty gutters used to be.

  He didn’t remember the bars across the windows in the Virginia Beach home. The sight of the bars had him wondering if his mother installed them while she lived there. Had she created her own prison after he left?

  Scanning the cramped street where only one car could make it down the road at a time, he suspected that things went downhill around the area quickly. On instinct, he balled his hands into fists, preparing to go toe to toe with any foe.

  Kids laughed as they ran by him on their way to some other kid’s house or a game. He remembered being that innocent, especially during the summer where he only worried about scraping together enough money to give to the sketchy guy selling ice cream from his colorful van.

  When he brought his attention back to the house, he noticed a small pair of eyes staring back at him through a raggedy set of dirty blinds beside the front door. After all these years, it still made his skin crawl to be stared at like an animal.

  He couldn’t tell if a black person occupied the home now or if the shadow of the porch during the hot summer midday sun made the person’s skin look dark.

  The door creaked open, and Russell’s heart accelerated. He tightened his grip on the plastic bag that held his meager belongings.

  As he suspected, a skinny African-American boy stood behind the screen door. A sheen of sweat covered his face. Russell remembered that home not having air conditioning. The child’s Afro stood high on his head but remained tapered around the sides.

  “Are you a bill collector?” The boy screamed his inquiry through the gray screen.

  Russell relaxed his fingers and ran his hand over his shaved head. His skin felt hot from the sun.

  The truth perched on his lips, but Russell chose to evade the question. “Did you know the woman who used to live here? Her name was Belle Griffing.”

  Telling the truth always got Russell in trouble. If he posed as someone after money, this child might give him some respect.

  He tried peering into the house around the boy. His gaze must have given him away. The boy pulled the wooden door close behind him to block his view.

  “Ain’t no Belle here.” He shook his head. “You sure you’re at the right place?”

  Russell studied the small house again. No mistaking the two-bedroom shack. He looked off to the side at the tree in the front yard. A brief thought went through his head on whether his carved initials still remained embedded in the bark.

  “She used to live here with her son before she died.” Even though Dana and the prison had told him about his mother, he wanted to know if anyone had seen her before she passed.

  Had Belle gained any more weight to her already stocky but short frame? Had she gotten sick and become thin and frail? Or had she been shot when a bullet meant for someone else got her instead?

  Russell still kicked himself for being behind bars when they held her funeral, although he had hoped Quinton would have told him about their mother. If Belle could have held on one more year, Russell would have had his time with her.

  “Oh, shit.” The kid slammed the door and locked it.

  When Russell brought his attention to the other side of him, he saw what must have frightened the boy. The same black Cadillac SUV that had followed the bus that left prison in Petersburg now sat three houses down and across the street. The driver, wearing sunglasses, directed his attention solely on Russell.

  At least in the prison yard, Russell could feel the stares on him a lot easier. It became like a sixth sense. Out in the real world, he would have to adjust his intuition. He definitely needed to stay away from the elements down the street that had made the kid nervous.

  As casually as he could, Russell did what he had done when the bus outside the prison had dropped him off at the station in Norfolk. He walked.

  Russell brushed his hand over his front pocket where he kept all the money he had. Four hundred dollars wouldn’t go very far, not in this day and age, especially without a place to lay his head. He would do what he could to stay off the street and out of the system. With the gentle hum of the engine from the mysterious SUV creeping behind him, he suspected that other people had a different plan for him.

  Just like in the yard, he kept his stare forward and his nose in his business. He clutched his bag and kept his pace even but steady.

  “Get in.”

  The person behind the harsh voice made the request like he hadn’t planned on repeating himself.

  Russell ignored him, pretending like he hadn’t heard the man make the demand. He would be damned if he would fall back into a routine of being told what to do like he needed a handler.

  “Hey, partner. I need for you to get into the truck.”

  Partner? No. Russell entered the world alone. He created his image, his path, his mistakes. He would go out doing things his way by holding back but keeping strong. He didn’t need any help if he went down in flames.

  “No. I’m fine walking.” Russell had over
a decade of doing nothing but working out, walking the yard, fighting, and wondering about his life choices.

  He knew that if he got in that vehicle, he would be back in prison or dead. Neither choice held any appeal.

  “Crush wants to see you.”

  Hearing the name of his former boss had Russell doing a stutter step, a first in years.

  “I’m going to visit other people.” Russell’s story held some truth even though he had no idea how to find his mother’s grave.

  He had written down the cemetery name the prison had given him, but didn’t know the location of it or how he would be able to get there. As always, he would figure it out.

  Despite being a shit to the woman before getting arrested, Russell missed his mother. Belle had warned Russell about the people he associated with for work and fun. She also warned him about fast women. He really wished he had listened to her then.

  “I know you’re not going to see your brother. You didn’t want anything to do with him back then. Might as well keep it that way.”

  Russell leaned his head to release the steadily tightening tension in his neck. He didn’t need to hear that shit. Not now.

  “And I know you’re not going to see your dead mama.” This time the driver laughed.

  That reaction got Russell to stop in his tracks. He finally brought his attention to the driver. The young man looked familiar, strange considering how many people lived in the city of Virginia Beach. In Crush Crandall’s world, everyone knew everybody.

  The young man’s appearance reminded Russell of when he first started working for Crush. Barely out of high school, Russell had done jobs for the man that would turn his mother’s stomach. The lure of fast money kept him entrenched in the crooked life for ten years.

  “I know you.” Russell stopped walking to focus his full attention on this guy. “I’ve seen you before.”

  The young man said nothing. He adjusted his sunglasses on his thin nose and sniffed. Until he tugged on his right ear did his identity finally click.

  “Jelly? Is that you?” Russell barely remembered Crush’s nephew.