Indie hadn’t put his murder game down in quite some time. He had trained Chase to be his pit bull when he had needed someone in the streets of Houston touched. If he ordered it, then Chase bit. That was how he solved his problems. Unfortunately for Indie, this wasn’t the remedy for his current predicament. Even if he were able to reach out to touch Leah, her demise wouldn’t fill the vacancy in his heart. There was no replacing what she had taken away. He would feel YaYa’s absence for the rest of his life. She was his one-in-a-lifetime love. Her light had been snuffed way too soon, and although he didn’t let outsiders witness his self-destruction, he was rotting slowly from the inside out. His heart barely functioned anymore. Not even the sight of his daughter could brighten this gloomy day.
Indie rested his head against the leather seat and closed his eyes, seeking a moment of solace. He had to remain mentally strong. There were people who still needed him, mainly Skylar, and that left him no room to fall apart.
“Hmm-hmm.” The driver cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. I believe we have company.”
Indie turned and saw a black sedan with red and whites flashing on the dashboard from the inside.
“Pull over,” Indie said. He came off his hip with the banger and slid it to the driver. Without words, the driver took the illegal weapon, pressed a button on the radio console, and a secret compartment slid out. He quickly hid the gun inside, and Indie sighed as he stepped out of the car.
It wasn’t much of a surprise when Agent Norris emerged from the vehicle. He flipped his cheap suit jacket back to display the weapon and badge that were on his hip.
“Am I under arrest?” Indie asked.
“No,” Norris said as he looked around in paranoia. “I’m here to offer my condolences. If the bureau had handled your daughter’s case more efficiently, maybe it would not have come to this point.”
Indie flicked his nose in irritation. “Let’s not mince words, Agent Norris. You were focused on arresting me instead of finding my daughter, so YaYa had to find her alone. My daughter is alive thanks to her mother, but YaYa is dead thanks to you,” Indie said. “You underestimated how powerful I am. Your case against me, your surveillance details outside my house, it slows me down, but it doesn’t stop me. My reach is far. If I were you I would be worried every time I turned my ignition over in the morning,” Indie said as he stood toe to toe with Norris. A glint of fear flickered in Agent Norris’s eyes.
“Is that a threat?” Norris countered. “Are you threatening a federal agent?”
Indie chuckled as a smirk crossed his face. He didn’t respond verbally. The look in his eyes revealed that it was not a threat, but indeed a promise that he would have no problem carrying out. “Now, I just said good-bye to someone very dear to me. If I’m not under arrest, then—”
“Look, I’m not here to make it hard for you today. I understand the role I played in this . . .”
Indie was losing patience for the conversation, and he put his hands in his pockets and squared his shoulders as he stared Norris down with pure hatred in his heart. “Let me ask you something, Agent Norris. How did you miss this? Huh? How did you not know Leah Richards had taken my daughter, that she had stalked my family, taken YaYa’s identity? If you had put half the focus on finding my kid as you did on locking me up, then none of this would have ever happened. I just buried a memory. Do you understand that? I couldn’t even truly say good-bye because you, or none of the other pig mu’fuckas like you, know where her body is.”
Norris took the insults because he knew that they were true. He had had a hard-on for Indie from day one and it had distracted him from doing his job. “I’m here to make you a proposition,” Norris said quickly.
Indie seemed uninterested and scoffed as he shook his head and turned to get back into the car. Norris’s next statement halted him.
“Put me on your payroll and I’ll call off the dogs. You’ll know when you’re under surveillance, you’ll have a heads-up on any raids, and most importantly you will have eyes and ears inside the bureau,” Norris said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What payroll?” Indie said, playing dumb. He didn’t trust Norris as far as he could throw him. This was the same man who had tried to take away his freedom. This entire proposal smelled like a setup, and he wasn’t falling for the okie doke.
“Damn it, Indie, when you walked, my pay went down by thirty percent. The dismissal of your case fell on my shoulders. I’m back to my rookie pay. I have a family. I can’t support them on that. I’m offering you a good deal. Put me on payroll. Ten grand per month to have the feds in your pocket is a small price to pay for a man in your business,” Norris said.
Indie placed one foot inside of the car and turned his back to Norris. Agent Norris watched in frustration as Indie closed the door.
“Just think about it!” he yelled through the tinted glass as the driver pulled off.
Indie pondered Agent Norris’s offer and knew that it could prove valuable. What Agent Norris didn’t know was that at the moment, Indie couldn’t afford to put anyone on payroll. Dodging a federal bullet had practically crippled his street operations in Houston, and his stash was running low. On top of this, Indie didn’t trust Norris. If he did have a mole on the inside, it wouldn’t be him.
Chapter 7
Dawn in Italy was one of the most picturesque things that YaYa had ever witnessed, and as she walked in her bare feet along the grassy countryside of Zya’s land she felt free. Her long silk dress blew as the wind laid gentle kisses on her skin. YaYa felt rejuvenated, alive, and she was grateful. Healing halfway across the world had been like therapy for her soul. She had needed to step away from it all to bring purity back into her life.
She sat on the hilltop and admired the towns miles below Zya’s private estate. If this wasn’t heaven, it was the closest thing to it. A part of YaYa wouldn’t have minded staying there forever. She had already been erased off the map. No one even knew that she was still breathing. It would be simple to start over and never look back.
The idea was tempting, but it was impossible. The one thing that kept her linked to her old life was her child. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of the possibilities, of the life she could lead if she just moved on without looking back. She could see security, safety, but she couldn’t see motherhood in that life. If she made that choice, her child would be lost to her forever, and as much as she wanted to start anew, she could never do it without Skylar.
“I have to go back,” she whispered as she wiped the tears from her face. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Life had given her a brutal beating, but YaYa was resilient. She had bounced back. Somehow she had survived, but Leah had too. Leah had left a bitter imprint on her life all because of jealousy. YaYa didn’t have the luxury to run away because of her child, but she would not let Leah terrorize another moment of her life. Leah had to pay for the things that she had done. YaYa would never be at peace until Leah was out of it for good.
“I have to go back,” she repeated, this time with more determination. She stood and dusted her off backside. She took one final look at the gorgeous view before she turned around and returned to the villa.
The personal butler that Zya had left her with met her at the back door. “Ms. Miller is here for you. I’ve set breakfast up on the terrace for the two of you.”
YaYa nodded. “Thank you.”
She made her way to the master bedroom. It had become her place of refuge. It no longer resembled a hospital room. No machines, no mechanical bed, no instruments filled the space. It had been restored to its original state with plush, king-sized furniture and silk bedding. She had become so used to the villa that she wished it belonged to her.
She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the prescription bottles that her doctor had prescribed for her. She was on a combination of Vicodin and Oxycodone. Depending on her level of pain, all she had to do was pop a tiny pill and it took all of it away. She poured two of the pills out i
nto her palm and swallowed them with the room temperature water that she always kept at her bedside. She settled her nerves and then stood to her feet, ready to face her past.
She found Zya sitting on the back terrace. She was always so stunning. Every time YaYa saw her she was taken aback by how beautiful she was. She wore a black Valentino bandage dress and five-inch Jimmy Choos. Her hair was pulled high into a large bun on the top of her head, and her eyes were covered in limited-edition designer shades. There was something about Zya that screamed money, and it had nothing to do with her wardrobe. Despite the fashionista that she was, it was the way that she carried herself that demanded respect. YaYa found herself intimidated every time she was around her.
“Good morning, Zya,” YaYa greeted as she approached the table.
The butler had laid out a feast of every breakfast dish imaginable. Zya sat sipping a mimosa. She flashed a warm smile at YaYa.
“Good morning,” she replied. “You look well.”
“I don’t feel it,” YaYa said only half jokingly. She took a seat across from Zya.
“But you look it, and that’s what counts. Healing the inside will take more work, more time, and only you can do that, YaYa. All of the money in the world can’t buy you peace of mind. But the world doesn’t have to see how broken you are. I always keep my shit together because I never know who’s watching. You can’t allow yourself to unravel. On my worst day, I’ll still appear to be at my best,” Zya schooled. “Otherwise people think you’re weak, emotional, unstable. I’ll never give anyone the satisfaction.”
“How do you keep it all together without going crazy?” YaYa asked.
“I have someone at home. Let’s just say he’s my Indie,” Zya said, revealing a smile so genuine that it warmed YaYa’s heart. She recognized the sign of love, and Indie’s face flashed in her mind. “He keeps me sane. I have a child who keeps me sane.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m going crazy here,” YaYa said. “I need to see Indie. I’m too far away from him. There are things I need to say to him, to ask him. . . . These damn doctors won’t clear me to fly yet, so I can’t go to him.”
“I don’t think you understand your new position,” Zya said. “If you want something, it happens. There aren’t any no’s at this level of the game, YaYa. If you can’t go to Indie, then you bring Indie to you. Go get dressed. I think that when you think of entering the game, you only think of the downfalls. I’m going to show you the upside. We’re going for a ride.”
YaYa quickly showered and dressed in borrowed clothes. When she emerged, Zya was waiting in front of a shiny red Porsche Cayenne.
“Wow, you may as well keep that dress,” Zya said. “After you, I will do it absolutely no justice.”
YaYa, who was once used to receiving compliments, felt insecure in her own skin. She ran her hands down the front of the peplum-style dress that hugged her hips.
“Relax,” Zya said. “You look amazing.”
“I don’t feel the same,” YaYa whispered.
“You’re not the same. You’ll never be the same, so we have to make sure that you’re better,” Zya answered. She held both of YaYa’s hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “I’ve dismissed the drivers. We’re rolling solo.” She pointed to the Chanel headscarf that covered YaYa’s hair. “This doesn’t compliment the dress, however. The first stop will be the salon.”
YaYa smiled and the two women entered the car. Zya pulled away at full speed and they flew through the Italian countryside.
“I’m going to boss you up by the time this day is over. By sunset you’ll feel like a new woman, YaYa, ”Zya said.
YaYa smiled and Zya continued. “I need you to relax around me, YaYa. Trust me. The business that we are about to enter into together, I will need your trust, your friendship. I don’t want you to feel inferior to me, YaYa. You don’t need to fear me. Your respect is all I ask.”
“After what you have done for me, you will always have that,” YaYa replied.
The ride along the countryside was beautiful. They rode for miles along the coast. Finally the scenery changed from hills and ocean views to city life as they entered Milan, the shopping capital of the world. For the first time since being pulled from the fire, YaYa smiled brightly as all of her favorite designers lay sprawled out in front of her.
“We’re going shopping?” YaYa asked.
“I’m giving you a complete makeover. A total transformation should make you more comfortable. Women like us wear nothing but the best, eat nothing but the best, surround ourselves with nothing but the best. The best clothes, the best shoes, the best homes, the best schools for our children, the best shooters for our protection,” Zya said. “But before we do anything, we’re going to get that head together.”
YaYa laughed as they emerged from the car. They entered a five-star salon, where her every need was catered to. YaYa’s hair, face, and body were revived, and by the time she walked out with her short new cut, she felt beautiful again. She wasn’t perfect. Her face still showed damage, scars from the fire and traces of the doctor’s incisions were still evident, but she was changed. She felt beautiful, and it was her scars and imperfections that made her feel special. She had survived what would have destroyed most. That was something to be proud of.
As she climbed out of the stylist’s chair, she fingered her short hair cut in the mirror, trying to get used to the new look.
“Do you like it?” Zya asked.
YaYa turned her head to look at the side of her face that had been operated on. She inhaled deeply. This was as good as it got. She wasn’t exquisite, but she wasn’t hideous either. It was acceptable, and she would have to get used to not being the center of attention that she once had been.
“I like it,” she said skeptically.
Zya took a seat in the stylist’s chair, and YaYa smiled in an attempt to keep her spirits high. “I’m going to take a walk while he styles you. I need some air.”
Zya nodded and YaYa turned to leave. The warm air hit her as soon as she left the comfort of the salon, but it seemed to melt the ice block that had been building around her heart.
YaYa just needed a moment to herself with no doctors, no pressure from Zya, no mirrors revealing her new reflection. She just wanted to walk the streets and see how people who didn’t know her reacted to her new appearance. She waited for the stares and the whispers, but to her surprise they didn’t come. Everyone seemed to bypass her as if she was normal, although YaYa felt anything but.
YaYa bypassed all of the designer shops until she came across a little unnamed shop amongst the bunch. The most beautiful shoes were displayed in the window, and they drew YaYa inside like a magnet. An older gentleman sat behind the counter, working diligently as he removed the platform from a chic pair of shoes. The man looked up over his wire frame glasses, giving her a once over before returning to his work.
“Have a look around. Let me know if you need help with anything,” he gruffed. His voice was rough and unwelcoming, despite the fact that it was meant to be a greeting.
She looked around the shop curiously, and out of nowhere the man spoke again. “Been running this shoe shop for forty years, and in all that time, not one man has ever bought a broken shoe inside. It’s the women . . . women like you who keep me in business. Broken heel, I fix it. Scuff mark, I buff it out. I work with everybody—the actresses, the models, the designers. They all come to me.” As he spoke, he never looked up from the shoe that was in his hand. “All those models come here, have me remove the inside of the shoe, hollow it all out so that it’s lighter. They can walk better if the shoe weighs less.”
YaYa looked at the shoe in his hand and noticed that the hollow space within the shoe was just the right size to conceal something inside. The wheels inside her head began turning. Instinctively, she could already see cocaine being transported within the hollow space of the shoes.
No one would even think to check these shoes, she thought.
“Now, out of all the yea
rs I’ve been doing this, I’ve never seen someone as lovely as you, dear,” he said.
YaYa laughed because he had only glanced at her for two seconds. Surely he was just being nice. “I think you might tell all the ladies that,” she replied with an insecure smile as she picked up a pair of shoes.
The man looked up, and she saw his expression change when he took her in.
“I was burned in a fire,” she whispered as she lowered her eyes.
“I see. Well, I never meant those words more, sweetheart. You’re a gem. One of a kind. Come . . . let me package those up for you. They’re on the house,” the Italian man said.
“Oh no, I can pay you for them,” YaYa replied. “The compliment you gave me is more than enough.” She smiled as she placed the shoes on the counter and he gave her hand a gentle pat. She glanced at the hollow shoe once more. “Besides, I have a feeling that I’ll be back.”
“Well, ask for Bruno. We have another location in the countryside as well. He’s my son, and we will take good care of you, lovely lady,” the man said.
YaYa paid for the shoes and walked out of the shop, headed back to Zya.
The two women ripped through Milan like a storm as they shopped without limit. Zya was generous with YaYa. There was no need to look at price tags. She needed Yaya at her best. She was breathing life back into a lifeless soul by reminding YaYa of her worth.
They had too many bags to carry home themselves, and everything was shipped so that they could meander around the town’s squares freely.
“I wish I could stay here forever,” YaYa said as the day wound down and they sat over dinner.
“Running from your past won’t make it go away,” Zya said. “What is it about this one girl that terrifies you so much?” Zya had never seen anyone as scared as YaYa. A part of the reason why she was so beaten by Leah was because Leah had gotten to her head.
Green Eyed Monster Page 6
