She viciously wiped her tears away and stepped into the Explorer. I didn’t leave the parking lot until she paid her fee and was heading toward I-10 West that would take her all the way to her destination.
I didn’t have to cry to show how much I missed her already but my heart felt heavy. I was the one who did the cleanup, including checking us out of our hotel, grabbing the few items we both left behind and running to where the Charger was parked. I threw the plastic clothes bag filled with more soiled clothes in the trunk, stuck the money and the coke under the spare tire that was well hidden, and changed into another shirt since my current was soaked with sweat and fear.
This time, a Deftones tee-shirt was slipped over head, and I closed the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat. I started the car, backed out and slowly drove out of the garage after paying my fee. It was then I saw a plastic bag on the seat. I picked it up and examined it before I opened it to find crisp, new bills, all with Benjamin’s ugly face on them in Technicolor.
There was a note and it was from no other person than my love.
Hey, I knew you wouldn’t take the money so I had to sucker punch you somehow. Throw the drugs away—the last thing you need is a long stretch in a Texas or Mexican prison—the wrath of God couldn’t stop me from hunting you down. This should be enough to keep you going until we see each other again because we will, believe me. If I have to drag your ass back from Mexico, I will but save me a Margarita to enjoy before we get on the road.
Liv
My first thought was catching up with her on the I-10 since I would have to take it to get to Texas but then I thought about it, and slowly shook my head.
We’d see each other again and that was enough for me.
For now.
For all the excitement I was expecting once I crossed the Mexican border in Laredo, Texas, the drive from there through cartel land just to get to Baja California wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
As soon as I entered the country, I bought another burner phone and contacted Shannon Divjak, Tyrone’s sister. She was there because of the beaches and her free spirit. She also had settled in the port city of Ensenada so she had the perfect place to use her imagination through visual art and the paintings she drew.
If I didn’t have Liv waiting for me, I could have easily fallen for her. She was intelligent, beautiful, charming and looked more like her father than I suspected Tyrone did. With the exception of her dark brown hair which fell to mid-back and always seemed to end up in a ponytail or braid, her skin was tanned from the time she spent outside but her natural complexion was quite pale from all the tan lines I witnessed on her body. She did share her brother’s gray eyes but unlike his, hers had green crescents around the pupils, just like my Liv.
I appreciated her hospitality, especially after she easily found the tracking device under my car and drove us up to Orange County for the day. We explored Seal Beach and ate seafood at a quaint restaurant in La Jolla.
“So, what happened to the tracking device?” I asked once we got back to her place.
“It ended up in a garbage can somewhere outside of a 7-Eleven as we were leaving Seal Beach. No way in hell would I allow those Russian thugs to find out where I’m hiding out. Alas, I think my time here is done. Zlatko wants me to follow him around the world now that he is one of the Top ten male Tennis Players in the world. I didn’t know what I wanted but you being here has put a lot into perspective. I only came here to run away because I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment but . . . now, I am.”
“Croatian? How did your father feel about that? Both you and your brother ending up with former enemies?”
Shannon laughed out loud, and there was genuine joy to the sound as we enjoyed wine on her patio. “Well, his mother is Croatian but his father is German. He grew up in both Nice—where his mother lives—and Hamburg—where his father resides. The only arguments we ever have was I disagreed with him playing for the German team because his mother gave birth to him but he is a Himmel through and through. If he embraced his ancestry, it would still be a problem because his mother grew up in France so she doesn’t know much about Croatia except what her parents have told her. And that makes him ineligible to represent Croatia anyway since he’s a dual French and German citizen.”
I thought about that for a moment. “I thought Germany didn’t allow dual citizenship—”
“They don’t, for outsiders but for their own, they always make an exception.” Shannon downed the rest of her wine while I was there to contemplate the hypocrisy.
It reminded me of Liv’s relationship with me. She had made all the sacrifices and the one she asked of me, I couldn’t do.
I finished off my wine and joined Shannon on the sofa. “You wanna do something crazy?”
“Like what?”
“Well, you said your girl was in Nevada so book a ticket to Las Vegas. I’ll book one to London. Wimbledon is in less than three weeks and I’m dying to see the love of my life again. It’s been four months and although we talk on the phone every day, it’s not the same.”
“Where would we leave from?” I wondered as she opened up another bottle of wine and refilled our glasses.
“Certainly not here. San Diego has a great airport and it’s over the border. As a matter of fact, while you’re here drinking wine, I’m gonna start to pack. Book our tickets—one-way for the both of us. I don’t see why we can’t beat some of this traffic and just leave for San Diego tonight. We can get a room by the airport.”
“Um, because we’ve been drinking?”
“Rubbish.” Shannon turned toward me, her body reminding me of a beautiful gazelle in motion. “Listen to me. I always had a second sense and I know if we stay, we won’t be safe. It comes from my father. He left the former Yugoslavia just a week before things started to kick off. He was just a young man, not yet twenty. He tried to warn his family but only his parents, brothers and sisters believed him. They are also in France so I have my whole family over there.”
“Any messages for me to tell Liv?” I stopped mid-type and looked at her.
“Tell her congratulations. It could go either way but she will always have you as her support.” She disappeared into her room and I heard her began to pack as I booked our tickets.
It was a cryptic message but one I would be sure to deliver.
After two days of virtually non-stop driving, I finally made it to Birch Tree.
It was a typical small town but it had a different vibe because it was surrounded by Carson City, Reno and Lake Tahoe.
Aunt Bronaugh was there waiting for me at the entrance. I threw the SUV into park, climbed out and embraced her as soon as the gates opened while a prospect drove my car into the lot.
“Look at ya, darlin’. If my brother didn’t spit ya out then I don’t know what. How is the crazy motherfucker?” she inquired as we walked toward the compound.
“Still in Walpole but he sends his best. I don’t think he ever forgave himself for letting you down. I mean, when you wanted us to move here instead of being in Boston.” I gazed at my aunt as she lit a cigarette. “If Da was out here, he wouldn’t be in Walpole, Auntie.”
She dragged from her cigarette and contemplated. Unlike most of her siblings, she had her dad’s amber eyes with a green crescent around the pupils. “He probably wouldn’t be but . . . what about your mam? Would she move here? I don’t trust her being in Boston on her own.”
I looked down at the ground. “I don’t know. She won’t leave my Da, even if his chances of comin’ outta Walpole again are slim.”
“Callie’s always been like that. Dílis don deireadh.”
I squeezed my aunt’s hand. “Faithful to the end.”
Bronaugh exhaled before a smile appeared on her face. “I finally have someone beside my crabby old man to practice my Gaelic with. How could I forget my perfect niece who graduated Magna Cum Laude from Boston University was fluent in our ancient language? We’ll be speakin’ lots of it arou
nd here, especially when it comes to gossip. At least until we get you settled down South.”
I stopped walking. “Down south where?”
“Vegas. You’ll be safe. Plus the Vegas club is more your speed. There are a lot of young people down there in their twenties and early thirties. Not like up here. This might as well be a retirement home if Cillian, Gisela and Quinn weren’t still here. You worry about recuperating and in a couple of weeks Hardy will accompany Ronan and Naomi up here to pick you up. No motorcycles—it’s too damn hot in Vegas and you aren’t a seasoned rider . . . yet. Meanwhile, I’m gonna try to convince my sister-in-law to come on out west—at least until your da gets out of Walpole. That’s a fair offer, don’t ya think?”
I embraced my aunt again. “Thanks. You’ve done so much for me.”
“Anything for my favorite niece but shh, don’t tell anyone. Elizabeth thinks she’s my favorite just because she belongs to my favorite brother in Belfast.”
We both start laughing out loud as my phone buzzes. I look at the burner in time to catch the message from Shaw.
Shaw: Won’t be long now before we see each other again.
Can’t wait. <3
Me: Neither can I. Love you. xoxo <3
Shaw: Love you more. xoxo
“To be young and in love. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I smirked as I glanced at my aunt. “You’re not missin’ much. Believe me, young love ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
I got barely a week with my aunt but in the process, she’d convinced my mother to come out to Birch Tree to recuperate. Shaw’s mom was following her out here because neither could live without the other. I sometimes wondered if they were lovers—both were still attractive women despite their husbands’ spending the majority of their marriages in prison.
It wasn’t for me to judge so I didn’t dwell on it too much, especially along the drive to Las Vegas.
Mmm, what did I know about Vegas?
Tourists, the Strip, bent cops not afraid to bury people in the desert and Elvis.
Naomi was an excellent host and was quick to dispel most of my myths. The club was on the outskirts—twenty minutes from the Strip—and they didn’t live that much differently from other charters in Lucifer’s Saints—the difference being everyone was a lot younger.
“There’s no such thing as a free ride, Liv. I know you’ve had your share of ups and downs but everyone contributes to the club. What do you have to offer?” Hardy wondered out loud as he drove my Ford Explorer with ease.
Ronan cleared his throat. “You wanna take it easy on her bro? She may not be family to you but she is to me. Her father and my mother are siblings.”
“I have a B.S. in Pharmacology. I was headhunted by some of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world—”
“And . . .” Hardy trailed off.
“Pfizer was the one company that had a couple Nevada and California positions open. I’d travel a lot but in order to get your degree, you need to take a shit load of science and chemistry courses. I can, technically, manufacture Oxycodone, Vicodin, Valium, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, and Xanax. It won’t get in the way of the guy you have running whatever illegal stuff you make but it might be beneficial for some of the girls Kitaev is providing you with. They may be depressed, in pain . . .” I winked in the rearview mirror at him.
“Are you serious?” Naomi asked me, her amber eyes the size of golf balls.
“It’s a chemistry formula. The problem isn’t making it, it’s getting the components to make the drugs you require. I don’t like using China but I will take supplies from Russia and Eastern Europe. The optimum places to pick up these supplies though would be here, Canada or Western Europe. The problem is they don’t use any of the drugs I mentioned in doses that Americans do so that could be a problem.”
Hardy waved his hand away. “That’s what the club is for, Liv. As long as your boyfriend—the convict—is willing to help then this should all go smoothly as a baby’s bottom.”
“Am I to assume you have a stellar reputation, Mr. Cox?” I snapped back.
“Nope, spent a little time in the pen meself. I just didn’t make it a habit of goin’ back after the first time, know what I mean, luv?”
I grabbed my burner and texted Shaw.
Me: Babe, you need to meet me in Vegas.
It’s time for you to come home.
I didn’t get an answer from him for a while only to discover we were going through a mountainous area where reception was patchy. By the time we cleared the area, I looked down and noticed I had a message.
Shaw: On my way right now, babe. Hold on
sweetness. Coming home to you. xoxo
Me: I fucking love you.
Shaw: Love you more.
The End . . . for now.
Freaky, kinky, unconventional.
Fascinated with the unique and underexplored, psychologically obsessed with the human psyche, and stories that can be both romantic but push the buttons past a reader’s comfort zone. “I want readers to think, and if any part of my story is left with them after they finish one of my novels, or novellas then I have done my job.”
The worst rating SE Chardou can think of a reader giving her is “Meh.” Love her novels or hate them but at least she has had the satisfaction of knowing she made a reader feel something—anything other than numb—while they were reading her books.
SE Chardou enjoys living right next door to Hell, also known as the Las Vegas Metropolitan Area, which is pretty toasty especially in the late spring, all of summer and early autumn. She has two daughters who are six and a half years apart so beside author, she also works as referee, counselor, part-time maid and taxi driver.
An avid reader herself, she enjoys big five published authors, hybrid authors like herself, and indie authors. She daydreams a lot about what her next book will be about, and brushes up on her very rusty French at least a few times a week.
Website: www.novelsthatrock.weebly.com
Instagram: @sechardou
Facebook Author Page
Twitter: @ellechardou
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