by Chrys Fey
He got up to throw away the wrappings for his sandwich and caught sight of his keys on the counter. The only keychain he had was a piece of merchandise, metal designed to look like his truck. It was silver with the exact black and neon green paint job his truck had. On the side, the black cobra was visible.
He whirled around. “What if the snake was meant for me?” He lifted the keychain. “My symbol is a snake. A black snake.”
****
Tuesday morning, Donovan and Beth took the day off to handle a few errands. They went to the hardware store to pick out a new mailbox. He couldn’t fault Beth for not wanting the old one. If it had been crawling with spiders, he wouldn’t want to go near it either, even if the spiders were long gone. Although it wasn’t spiders, the thought of a dead snake in their mailbox didn’t exactly make him want to skip to check the mail.
“How about this one?” Beth indicated at a black, steel mailbox. Behind the door was a mail slot with a key lock. “It’s pricey, but it’ll stop people from putting undesirable stuff in it.”
“Actually, it stops them from taking out our mail. They could still fit…undesirable stuff into the slot.”
“But getting a snake through that would be hard.”
“Good point.”
They paid for their new mailbox before heading to Donovan’s mechanic’s garage. The sound of drills and the smell of car oil overwhelmed his senses when he entered the garage with Beth. Those sounds and smells, which could give many people headaches, relaxed him. He had worked as a mechanic when he was in high school. The knowledge he gained had helped him greatly in his monster truck business.
“Hey, Scotty.” He walked up to a man in a grease-stained T-shirt and trashed jeans. Donovan had met Scotty when he moved down to Florida as a young twenty-something looking for a life, not just parties and fist fights. After Ryan took Donovan to a monster truck show and he realized what he wanted to do, he and Scotty had spent weeks formulating ideas for his truck. Scotty was his go-to man. The only one he trusted with his truck.
Scotty turned. “Hey, Goldwyn. Is this your wife?” He wiped his hands on a dirty rag and held one out to Beth. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”
Beth shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Scotty. Donovan says you’re the best mechanic in Florida.”
Scotty rolled up the rag and snapped it near Donovan’s hip. “He better say that.”
Donovan chuckled. “Yeah, whatever. So, how’s my truck?”
“The parts came in today. I removed the hood. There’s something I want to show you.”
They followed him to the back of the garage where Donovan’s monster truck was parked. The engine was exposed, and the bumper was gone. It looked sad, like a patient with his stomach opened on the operating table, revealing all his intestines. Instead of bringing them to the truck, Scotty turned to the wall where the crumpled hood was propped up.
“Take a look at the corner there.” Scotty pointed to the bottom. “I put this hood on myself and know for a fact that neither of us put that there.”
Curious, Donovan squatted in front of it. Painted on the metallic underbelly of the hood was a snake head. He frowned at it. The image didn’t match the logo on the side of his truck. “It’s not a cobra.”
Beth joined him. She reached out a hand. Her finger touched the snake’s image. Then she snatched her hand back as if the metal had shocked her. “It’s a viper.”
That single word brought the walls down around Donovan. His head snapped around. “What?”
“It’s just like his tattoo,” she said. Her voice was barely audible over the racket of the other mechanics going about their jobs. She peered at him. “He’s the one behind your accident and the bloody message—Viper.”
****
Viper was the drug dealer Beth met when she went undercover, hoping to find out Buck’s whereabouts. What she did led to the Orlando SWAT team breaking down the door to his house and arresting him, and all his buddies who had been there getting high. She hadn’t put his name on her grudge list. She hadn’t even considered him. Her heart rate escalated as she thought about his sneer, the gold canine tooth, and the platinum gun clamped in his hand as he stared her down. How could she have forgotten about him and his black eyes that pierced straight through her, making her fear that he saw through her disguise?
More remarkable than the fact she had forgotten about him was that she wasn’t afraid. She was angry. Out of all the criminals she faced, including murderers, a marijuana drug dealer was the one who snuck in under their radar. She realized she hadn’t thought about him because she thought he was out of the picture, locked behind bars, but his sentence wouldn’t have lasted forever. Eventually, he would’ve been released. And she knew that a criminal behind bars could be as dangerous as one who was free. Jackson Storm had proven that.
She sat on a stool and glared at the snake. Viper, or one of his weed buddies, had broken into Donovan’s garage, tampered with his truck, and left that snake as a calling card. The snake in the mailbox was no doubt his doing as well. He wanted them to know who was responsible. What troubled her more was the fact he knew who Donovan was. Beth had dressed up as a cocaine addict going through withdrawal, and the name she had given him was Felicia. How had he figured out her identity to know to go after Donovan?
The moment she asked herself that question, she knew the answer—Buck. They were at the same prison. Over the course of the last two years, they could’ve seen each other and talked about their arrests—both of which she had had a hand in.
“The two of you are making my days into never-ending headaches,” Thorn announced when he found them in the garage. “What do you have for me?”
Donovan pointed at the snake image. “A suspect.”
Thorn squatted to look at it. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s an exact replica of Viper’s tattoo,” Beth said.
Thorn’s shoulders pulled back. He stared at if for several seconds before getting to his feet and facing them. “It is the same.”
Donovan cursed.
“The question is whether we are dealing with him or someone acting in his name? I’m going to make a call.” Thorn stepped outside with his cell phone to his ear.
Beth glanced at Donovan. His body was tense as he paced in front of the crumpled hood. She worried for him, because his worry for her could become so great, terrifyingly so. Whenever that happened, he did extreme things, like going to prison to pry a confession from a murderer, or knocking on her ex’s door to issue a threat.
“Donovan, you’re not breathing.”
“Am I supposed to be?”
She was about to reply when Thorn shouted, “Is this a joke? Why wasn’t I notified?”
“That doesn’t sound good,” she said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Donovan agreed.
A few minutes later, Thorn stormed back inside. “Viper escaped,” he snapped. “He was on work release, and the first chance he got, he split.”
Beth swallowed. So, they weren’t dealing with Viper’s friends or buyers. They were dealing with him, the man who had an arsenal of guns and bullets in his house. The man with cold eyes. The man she tricked and who was arrested the same night.
“What did they say when you asked why you weren’t notified?” Donovan asked.
“They said the cops in the area were notified, citizens received emergency phone calls, something was in the paper, and a news bulletin was put out on all news stations, but with all of the fire coverage, it probably went unnoticed by many.”
“Like us,” Beth said. She eyed the snake defacing a piece of her husband’s monster truck. Viper was the most well-known drug dealer in Central Florida. He didn’t sell the big drugs and wasn’t a part of Jackson Storm’s drug ring, but he was known for his intimidation as well as his potent marijuana. Everyone knew him as Viper. If the news reported his real name, would anyone have realized who he was? Beth didn’t even know his real name.
She looked at Thorn. “What�
��s his real name?”
“Keon Roberts.”
No, she wouldn’t have recognized that name.
“What do we do now?” Donovan asked.
“Sit tight. Wait for him to come out, and he will.”
Yes, he would. They always did.
“He’s not after Donovan,” she said with her gaze still on the hood.
“What do you mean?” Donovan asked. “He fucked with my truck to kill me.”
Beth looked at him. “Remember how Jackson’s men used me to get to you?”
His jaw ticked. They had kidnapped her, used her for bait, shot her, and beat her. All because they wanted Donovan to come running.
“Well, now Viper’s using you to get to me,” she continued. “He’ll take you out only to hurt me.” Her eyes ticked back to the hood. “I was the one who went undercover.” Thorn had asked Beth to go undercover because Viper would’ve recognized a cop. Beth was a normal civilian, and she tricked him; something that had never been done before.
She turned back to the men staring at her. “He wants me to pay. Not you. Me.”
Donovan had been right. The bloody birthday message had been from someone in her past, just not who he expected. He also said it was intimate; vengeance could be very intimate. Viper wanted her dead. There was passion in that—the worst kind.
She wasn’t going to let another criminal scare her, though. Never again. She had spent too much time afraid of Jackson Storm and his goons. They took from her—blood, security, sanity—moments of her life that should’ve been bursting with joy. Never again would a single one of them accomplish that. Not even Viper.
No, she wasn’t frightened. She was pissed.
Viper had gotten under her skin once—for a few minutes after she was face to face with him—but she never lost a wink of sleep over him. She wouldn’t let him steal her sleep now. Or her security, sanity, or happiness. And definitely not her blood. Or Donovan’s. If Viper thought she was weak, he had another thing coming.
After one of Jackson’s men shot Donovan and he lay at her feet on the soft sand of Waikiki Beach, she had shed her fear and threatened the man with every fiber of her being.
You don’t think I’m a threat? You don’t know the meaning of the word. If you don’t kill me, I will become a threat bigger than Jackson Storm. I’ve studied stalkers, wife beaters, and murderers, and I will use that knowledge to hunt you down and kill you. So shoot me or be a hunted bitch.
Now she was sending those same words to Viper. She hoped he heard them loud and clear, because she was issuing a challenge, which she planned to win.
Chapter Fourteen
“I want to talk to Buck.”
Beth’s request stunned Donovan. He turned to face her. On the stool, her glare was pinned on the snake. Thorn stood beside him. He was also gaping at Beth.
“What?”
Her gaze left the snake and met his. “I want to talk to Buck,” she repeated but slower.
“Out of the question,” Thorn said.
She sent her icy stare in Thorn’s direction. “When Donovan asked to see Buck, you took him. When he asked to be taken to maximum security to talk to Jackson Storm, you did that, too. Well, now, I’m asking. Buck is the only one who could’ve given Viper information. I want to talk to him.”
“And what do you want to talk with him about?” Thorn asked.
“I want to know what he told Viper. We could try to ask him what Viper has in store for us.”
Donovan faced Thorn, who was their only mediator and the man who could grant Beth’s wish. Donovan wanted him to see how a confrontation between the two of them would be a bad thing, especially for Beth. “I don’t want her to talk to him.”
“Didn’t I once ask you not to make decisions for me?” Beth spat. Her face was tight, and her gaze was hard.
“I’m not,” he snapped back. “I’m hoping Thorn will understand I don’t want you to step foot into that prison, to see Buck and hear the things I heard when I spoke to him and Jackson.” Doing that didn’t change anything, but it had haunted him.
“You found out about the kill order. If we go now, we could find out what Viper’s plans are. Knowing that could work in our favor. We’d be able to prepare.” She looked to Thorn.
He shook his head at them. “Knowing that Viper’s only connection to you is Buck, it makes sense to talk to him.” He turned cautious eyes on Beth. “But I don’t want you to go either.”
Relief rushed through Donovan. At least Thorn has my back on this.
“If the two of you think you’re going to go and leave me behind, think again,” Beth said. “The two of you have done this too many times, and it needs to stop. We’re in this together. We have been since San Fran. So, unless you go alone, Thorn, I’m coming, too.”
Thorn shrugged at Donovan. That gesture made Donovan’s relief go up in flames. “It might be better if the three of us go together,” Thorn said. “We’d be a united front. And Beth wouldn’t be alone.”
Donovan ground his teeth. Thorn knew that last part would seal the deal for Donovan. The last time they went to the prison and talked to Buck and Jackson Storm, he had been frantic, thinking Jackson’s murderous goons had gotten to Beth while he had been gone. He could still hear Jackson’s threat word for word.
At least they weren’t going to see Jackson. Never again did Donovan want to experience that fear. The only way to ensure nothing happened to Beth while they questioned Buck was to have her there with them.
“Fine,” he said. “We go together.”
“Great.” Beth got off the stool. “Let’s go now while I’m still mad.” She walked past them to the exit.
Donovan and Thorn stared after her.
“This is going to be good,” Thorn said and then hustled to catch up with her.
Donovan stayed in place a moment longer, with his hands in his pockets. Only one thought came to his mind—Shit.
****
Donovan took up the rear as Thorn led them to a secure room where they’d be able to talk to Buck. Beth walked in front of him. No, she marched. Her shoulders were pulled back, and her chin was high—a woman on a mission. He had seen her like this before, but not in a while. The threat of Jackson’s men had truly gotten to her, but this new threat was bringing back her feistiness in full swing.
The room was empty when they gained access to it. Three chairs occupied one side of a table. A single chair took up residency on the other side. Beth sat between him and Thorn. He stole glances at her while they waited for Buck. Her hands were clasped on the table. She stared straight ahead, breathing in and out as if to keep herself in check. Normally, he’d be the one with clenched fists.
A few minutes later, the door opened. Two guards led Buck into the room. Donovan looked over his shoulder. Buck’s long, greasy hair was pulled into a ponytail. His face was shadowed with thick stubble. His eyes, from the deep pits of his eye sockets, lit with amusement.
“Another visit from little boy Goldwyn and his two-bit cop.”
The guards pushed Buck into the chair across from Beth. His gaze found her. “Now this I did not expect.” He sneered at Donovan and returned his look to Beth. “Looks like the two of you managed to tie the knot. Congratulations.”
Donovan ground his teeth and spoke with a clenched jaw. His plan to be calm wasn’t working out so well. “You don’t talk to her.”
“Ah, but since she’s here, I think I will. And the fact that the last time you were here because of her makes me wonder…” He looked at each of them. “What mess have you gotten into now?”
“The mess you created for us, right?” Beth’s voice had an edge to it that said she wouldn’t take any bullshit. “Despite being surprised by my presence, you know exactly why we’re here.”
She sat forward. “You and Viper picked up your partnership while incarcerated, didn’t you? Reminisced about your take downs and the common link in both—us. Or more specifically…me. What did you tell Viper, and what did he tell you?
”
Buck smirked. “We discussed many things. It’s hard to keep track.”
It was the same crap Buck spun when Donovan and Thorn questioned him before. Buck could sure talk, and it annoyed the hell out of Donovan. Last time, Thorn had threatened Buck by telling him that a knife would get slipped to an inmate with a vendetta against Buck, but he doubted that would work a second time. He was hoping Thorn had more leverage against Buck when Beth rose halfway out of her chair. With her hands on the table, she bore down on Buck.
“That bullshit may work on these two, but not with me.”
Donovan reached over and put a hand on her thigh. She lowered back into her chair; her back was as stiff as concrete.
“Out of the three of us, the one you don’t want to piss off is Beth,” Thorn said. He leaned forward. “Remember those privileges I gave you? The ones you’ve been enjoying? Those have been officially revoked. From now on, you’re going to be met with restrictions.” He sat back, and Donovan had a feeling he was going to dish out a piece of information that would get Buck to cooperate. “Not telling us what we need to know will only make matters worse for you. We have evidence of your partnership with Viper inside and outside of these walls. We know you gave him information that helped him to escape and carry out his plans. Whatever he does on the outside will be on your head—big or small. What he does will be added to your rap sheet with you as an accomplice, which will lengthen your sentence. And if you’re ever up for parole, you can bet the three of us will be there to testify to keep your ass behind bars. Every time, we’ll be there. Every damn time. You won’t be getting out.”
Buck looked up at the ceiling. Silence filled the room.
Donovan stole a glance at Thorn, who shrugged. Beth didn’t acknowledge either of them. She was glaring at Buck, unflinchingly.
Finally, Buck sighed. “Viper told me about a brunette who worked with the cops to bring him down. It didn’t take much to connect his brunette with the one who helped to nail me.” He winked at Beth.
Anger flashed searing hot through Donovan’s veins.
“With Donovan’s full name, Viper had all he needed, but it was so kind of you to tell me Beth’s name the last time you came to visit me.” He sneered at Donovan and tapped his temple. “Not very smart.”
