by Haley Jenner
Growling, I stand, moving away from my desperate need to claim her. I jog down the stairs without a word, not letting myself care to see if she noticed. I move toward the bar in haste, waving Fin over. He doesn’t dawdle, pouring my drink without instruction. Moving closer to the first bitch I see, I chance a look at the balcony to find Codi’s confused stare pinned on me.
I smile. Sardonically. My arm moves along the tiny waist of the girl standing beside me. She takes the invitation with fervor, leaning into my body and introducing herself. I play along, nodding like I give a shit.
Looking back to Codi, I frown when I don’t see her. Pushing the random chick away, I whirl around, in search of her, catching a flash of red as she beelines for the exit. I skirt between the crowd, rushing toward her.
I grab her arm when I reach her and she startles momentarily before realizing it’s me.
“Where you goin’?”
She looks to the ground, pulling in a steadying breath, building her confidence to meet my stare. “Listen, Parker. I honestly don’t understand what’s happening here. You’re sending a whole”—she lifts her hands emphasizing her point, only to drop them again— “range of mixed signals that I am nowhere near equipped to decipher. I’m sorry, but I’m out of my depth here. I think it’s best that we just forget we ever met.”
Panic ceases my body, but not for the right reasons. I should be afraid of Rocco, of what me failing at the task will do to his psychotic nature. But I’m more afraid of her walking out of here, and me not being able to see her again.
“You’re out when I say you’re out,” I growl.
She laughs, but it’s a nervous sound, not the giggle I’ve discovered I very much enjoy hearing. “I don’t even know what that means. I… Goodbye, Parker.”
Her eyes blink over at me, taking a snapshot of the moment before she shakes her head and disappears through the swarm of people. I should go after her. Chase her down and force her to stay, but I have a hunch I just discovered how not to win Codi Rein’s affections.
“Fuck happened?”
I clench my teeth in irritation, turning to face my brother. “Nothing, man. Somethin’ came up with her sister, needed to bail. Offered to drive her home, but she refused.”
He eyes me skeptically and I meet his stare head on. Eventually, he buys it, stepping back. “Gonna head off, some shit to take care of. Stay. Close up.”
Walking back to my office, I slam my door shut. “FUCK!”
Dragging a palm down my face, I move to my desk, standing over it, breathing heavy. Using the palm of my hand, I slide it across my desk in force, throwing the entire contents to the floor in frustration. Dropping heavily into my chair, I rip at my hair, doubting my ability to pull this back on track. We had a fucking plan. A solid strategy for taking Rein down and I let emotion get involved. I need a new plan of attack. A new approach. Codi Rein will be mine. She’ll be like putty in my fuckin’ hands, right before I rip her life away, right before her doting father’s fucking eyes.
Four
Codi
The rain drizzles down lightly as I turn the corner to Blaq. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jacket, ducking my head against the cool air of the afternoon. I skirt around the afternoon foot traffic, moving with purpose with a want to get home as soon as possible. It’s freezing, I have a cold and I just want to be tucked into my bed, not pushing through downtown Seattle. For my cell, no less. I leave it at work on occasion. Not on purpose. I’m forgetful. It’s an awful trait. But I need my phone. I’ve been without it since I left work sick on Monday and haven’t contacted my dad since before then. If I don’t call him soon, he’ll panic and a panicked Dominic Rein is something I don’t need to deal with.
Glancing up from the path as I near the door, I come to an abrupt halt. I haven’t seen him a week. Not since I left him scowling after me on the ground floor of Ruin. That night was a complete disaster. I know I’m inexperienced, but if that’s the way relationships work, I’ll happily remain in naivety.
He wrenches the door of Blaq open with greater force than necessary as he enters the shop. I find myself sticking my entire body against the brick wall fifteen or so feet away, attempting to remain invisible as I wait for him to reappear. Tucking my hair into the collar of my jacket, I disguise myself as best as possible, wanting to remain as inconspicuous as possible against his potentially searching eyes.
He exits the shop only a few minutes later, hands braced against the back of his skull in frustration. I see his lips move at the shout of his loud cussing, startling a few people walking close by. I’d bet money at the fact that he most likely growled in their direction at their disapproving looks if their scurrying feet are anything to go by. He glances either way down the street, turning to kick the wall by the door before walking in the opposite direction to my hiding spot.
I watch his retreat with a mixture of eager interest and confusion. Parker Shay turning up at my place of work was not something I’d considered. I was pretty confident we were done. Not that we’d even started anything noteworthy, I just couldn’t imagine why he’d be seeking me out, especially after last Friday night.
Unsticking myself from the brick, I take the few steps needed to reach Blaq, pulling the door open more gently than he had. Pia glances up from the counter, a small smile of greeting playing at her lips.
“You look like shit.”
I walk toward her, clearing the scratch in my throat. “Feel like it.”
“So listen, this guy, Parker, keeps coming by. Hot as all hell. Scary in the same way.”
I frown unconsciously. “He’s been by more than just now?”
Pulling my cell from the counter drawer, she hands it over, nodding her head. “Yeah, at least four times. Look, he’s scaring the customers, not that he’s rude or anything, I told him you’d be back Monday. Hope that’s okay.”
Stuffing my cell into my jeans, I consider what Pia’s just told me. “Did he say what he wanted?”
She shakes her head. “Nah. Just comes in, asks whether you’re working, asks when you’ll be back in.”
“Did he leave a number or something?”
“Nope,” she sighs, no longer interested in the conversation. “Look, he’ll be in on Monday, you can ask him what he wants then.”
“Yeah, okay, thanks,” I mumble to her retreating back.
***
Crouched down by the counter, I restock the bags and tissue paper, trying to create some form of order within the shelving. This is what happens when Pia is left in charge for a week. Everything turns to crap. She’s the owner’s daughter. A spoiled kid who hates working here as much as I hate her being here. She messes with everything. The racks, counter, storeroom; they’re all a complete disaster when I come back. Not to mention all the shit that goes missing, conveniently, all her size too. I don’t know why she bothers stealing and denying it, her mom wouldn’t charge her anyway.
Being down with a cold is like torture, because not only do I feel like death, I know what I have to look forward to on my return.
The door chimes and I rearrange the last of the bags, straightening them before standing. Readjusting my skirt and blouse, I plant my smile onto my face, looking up to say hello. My smile falters almost immediately and I swallow deeply against the nerves in my throat.
He watches me quietly, taking a few steps to bring himself closer. He looks good, no bruises or cuts on his face today. Instead, a fine shadow of unshaven hair decorates his jawline. He’s dressed simply, as seems to be his way, dark jeans, heavy boots, white tee, a leather jacket completing his look.
“Walk past this place every day, ain’t ever seen you before.”
I let my eyes meet his familiar gray stare, a small grin playing at my lips.
He’s starting over. Or at least attempting to.
“Worked here for a few years now, can’t say I’ve seen you before.” I can’t recall exactly what I said last time. I know I flirted. Smiled big. Made my interest known.<
br />
Not this time. No. This time, my words are hesitant. No hint of intimacy dancing in the words. He’s disappointed by this, his eyes closing briefly in regret before he opens them again.
“Kickin’ myself I haven’t laid eyes on you sooner.”
I watch him candidly. Looking for the animosity that seemed to overtake him in the club, but it’s not there. In all honesty, he looks a little lost. Unsure, not of himself, more of me.
“That so?”
He doesn’t answer. Much like last time, but instead of the false grin he offered me the first time we met, he smiles genuinely. Maybe stupidly, this pleases me. Parker Shay is dark. Anger and loss ricochet from his demeanor. I like that I can make him smile.
“So, you come in here to tell me that or you buying somethin’?”
He scratches his neck, shifting on his feet. “I ain’t buyin’ anything.”
I raise an eyebrow and he mimics the gesture.
“You got a man?”
This one catches me off guard. Again, making me laugh awkwardly. “Not sure that’s a question you dive right into, handsome. You don’t even know my name.”
He takes a step closer, bringing him flush against the counter I’m standing behind. He’s so close I can smell him; a subtle spiced scent and I lean a little closer. “Just need to know if I need to kill anyone before I ask your name.”
I laugh on cue and his smile comes on wider, pleased with the reaction.
“You don’t need to kill anyone.”
He chews his bottom lip and my focus drops to his mouth. Disappointment overtakes me in that moment at the realization that in the short time at the club, he didn’t attempt to touch me, to kiss me.
Leaning toward me, my body automatically retreats, unsure by the move and he winks, reaching out to grab a pen and paper. His focus drops to the paper as he scribbles a number on it, pushing it my direction and taking a step back.
“That’s it?”
He takes another step backward, his hands burying into his pockets. “All those eyes on you in the club,,, Not used to feelin’ jealous. Caught me off guard and I acted like a dick. Shouldn’a treated you way I did. Hopin’ whatever was maybe growing between us, ain’t lost completely.”
There’s sincerity in his tone that seems out of place on such a severe man. But it’s real and he considers me for only a moment longer, letting his words sink in before walking backward. Reaching the door, he stops. “You gotta name, Sugar?”
Elbows on the counter, I lean over it. “Codi Rein.”
He nods, turning to place a hand on the glass door. “Codi Rein. I like it.”
He pushes on the door, the small entry bell chiming with the move. “You got my number, Codi Rein. Hopin’ like hell you use it.”
He leaves without another word and I stand upright, glancing down at the scribbled-on piece of paper. Picking it up, I laugh loudly, looking back at the door in time to catch his wink before he’s gone from sight.
BOB 206-555-5555
Five
Parker
I’ve been checking my cell religiously, waiting for Codi to reach out. It’s been hours since I left her work, tail between my legs, almost ready to beg for her to give me another shot. I watched the war behind her eyes; the hesitancy in the beginning, the thawing of her doubt and finally intrigue, interest.
But, radio silence, spiking my frustration. I thought I’d broken through. Enough for her to text. At least by now.
My fists hit the bag in a quick succession of powerful jabs. The irritation lacing my frame subsides with each connect but peaks again almost immediately.
Rocco’s been breathing down my neck all week, asking for updates. He’s accepted the fact that Codi’s been sick well enough, but if something doesn’t change soon, he’ll know. I need her to call me. Text me. Fucking anything.
My body drips with sweat. My closed fists pound relentlessly against the leather, loud cracking sounds echoing through our home gym with each hit. Over and over again. Paired only with the exertion in my grunts.
“Yo.” Rocco appears before me, hands reaching out to steady the bag. I drop my fists, relaxing my stance, breathing heavy on a chin lift.
“How do you do this without music?”
I laugh on a breathless smile. “I like hearing the crack of the bag.”
He pushes the bag at me and I grab hold to stop it from hitting me. “Sounds psychotic.” He smiles. “I should try it.”
I push the bag back and he grabs hold, keeping it still. “Aunt Mira called, wants us over for dinner. Told her we’d be there.”
My hands clench into fists again. “He gonna be there?”
Rocco shrugs without care. “Say, so dollface. You need to push your hate for Marcus down, man. Doesn’t help anyone, especially not Mira.”
There’s a softness in Rocco’s tone that I don’t hear often. In fact, I only hear it when he speaks about, or to, Mira. The one person in our lives who, since Mom died, has shown us love. Any good we still hold inside, any compassion, any affection, she’s worked damn hard to put it there. All the while living in the depths of hell with someone who resembles more of the devil than anyone else I’ve ever met.
My cell beeps, and I turn away from the unfamiliar look of intense warmth in Rocco’s stare.
“You get me?” he snaps at my avoidance and I collect my cell, turning to back to him.
“Yeah, I got you,” I spit, not looking up.
Unlocking my screen, I flick through to messages, smiling when I see the text sitting unread.
UNKNOWN: Alright, Bob. Coffee. Starbucks. 7th Ave. 5:30pm.
I should be irritated that she’s all but ordered me around through a blunt text, but I’m too fucking relieved she’s actually reached out. Five goddamn hours after I betrayed everything inside of me by apologizing. By walking into her place of work with my tail between my legs.
Any other girl, I’d bet money on the fact she was letting me stew. Punishing me for being a dick. But I can’t believe that with Codi. Even the few short interactions I’ve had with her, prove mind games aren’t her style.
So, my relief is warranted. It’s justifiable. Because she almost decided against me. Codi Rein just about cut me out before I’d even had a chance to get a foot in.
“Should I be concerned about that idiotic grin on your face?”
Rocco’s sharp inflection pulls my attention and I scowl over at him. “Say, what?”
“You look a little too fuckin’ happy to be hearin’ from the bitch.”
I choke down the violence at his insult. More irritated by my reaction to him calling her a bitch. One thing Codi Rein ain’t and that’s deserving of our hate. Her dad, for sure. But not her. No way she’s aware of the evil inside her family. She’s too good. Her soul, it’s too fucking clean.
“Just happy she’s feelin’ better so I can get in front of her again. Pretty hard to win someone’s affections when you can’t fuckin’ see ‘em.”
He watches me cautiously. Something he’s been doing a hell of a lot lately. The lack of faith is obvious. Not quite distrust. But close enough to piss me off. He takes a moment longer to nod, forcing himself to believe my words. There’s no lie in them though. There might be a little more to it than I vocalized, but he sure as shit doesn’t need to know that. His doubts and his lack of confidence don’t need to be overblown by the fact that I’m also interested in just spending time with her.
“Been thinking about how to play this now you’re connecting yourself to her.” The seriousness in his tone cuts evenly through the room and I swallow thickly. “We’ll make it look like a robbery gone sour. Take some cash, trash the store, shoot her in a way that makes it look like her death wasn’t intentional.”
My heart race quickens its pace, and it has nothing to do with the punches I’d been throwing at the suspended bag only moments before. The sweat covering my body suddenly feels cold, like the looming sense of death is whispering along my skin, threatening me. Taunting me
with the hell it will rain down if I dare to dip my toes into its merciless depths.
I stand silently, unable to speak. Afraid if I do that he’ll hear the hesitancy in my tone, the niggling doubt I can’t seem to move past whenever I think of Codi Rein.
“Thought if we really wanted to, we could do this two birds, one gun type scenario.”
I wait quietly for him to continue and he seems a million miles away as he considers what he’s about to say.
“We rob the store, kill the girl, and plant the cash and gun on Marcus’ somehow. Police will surely look into our family, but we were young enough they might not think we’d carry Dad’s vendetta against Rein. Marcus would though.”
Kill the girl. I push the thought from my mind, focusing on the rest of his plan.
“We give Mom her peace and we save Mira in the same breath. We rid that parasite from our lives once and for all. Two birds, one bullet.”
A life without Marcus. Mira’s life without Marcus. I’d give my last breath for her to have that. Fuck, living every day knowing he’s locked away. It’d be freeing the last demons from our lives.
“Let’s do it. Let’s make sure the evil motherfucker goes down in flames.”
He lifts his fist and I tap mine against it, our eyes anchored with the fired promise of taking Marcus down.
“You should’a taken her chicken soup or somethin’.” He steps away, and with a clear mind, I laugh loudly.
“Yeah, that’s not at all creepy, rockin’ up to her home, an address she hasn’t given me,” I retort, grabbing the nearest towel to wipe the sweat from my neck.
He rolls his eyes, turning to walk back toward the hall and his room. “I’ll tell Marcus and Mira you have a date.”
“Kiss Mira for me. Tell her I’ll call her for lunch soon.”
He turns away without anything further and I look back to my cell, an impermissible feeling of excitement in my veins.
I arrived at Starbucks earlier than she suggested. I let myself believe that it’s to prove to her I’m invested. An apology for poor behavior. But in reality, my eagerness got the better of me. I was itching to leave the loft, and it was either throw punches at the leather again or get out. So here I am, half an hour before she’s supposed to show, knee bouncing with what, nervous fucking energy? I’ve never been made to feel nerves by a woman before. But sitting here, I’m unconvinced as to how much of me to show, afraid as all fuck the monster inside of me will scare her off.