Pieces Of One, Part 2 (The Dark Life Collection)

by Ricketts, SVC

  His warmth is gone when he sits me in the passenger seat like a rag doll. My legs dangle out with the car door open. I slump down into the leather seat and wipe my face with the edge of my sweaty t-shirt.

  “Drink this slowly, small sips,” Hennessey instructs, handing me a bottle of water. He angrily stares at me, shaking his head. “You are insane. What were you thinking? It’s dangerous out here, especially in some of these side streets. Bryson would kill me if anything happened to you.” Hennessy speaks sternly, but with steadiness controlling his frustration.

  Splashing some of the water on my face to camouflage the tears and snot, I let it calm my thoughts. I douse more over my head, disregarding the car’s interior. I sit in silence catching my breath and rub the misery from my face. I let the droplets fall off my hung head and watch the pattern they form. “If you knew the whole story Hennessey, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge. But I am sorry. I know you’re only doing your job. I just needed to feel the speed under my feet. It’s the one thing in my control right now.”

  The dress shirt sleeves stretch taught barely able to contain his biceps when he folds his arms across his chest. He leans against the car and a deep divot forms between his eyebrows.

  “You’re much different than you were in the club,” he observes with a watchful eye.

  Water and sweat continues to shake off me from my breakdown. I hope Hennessey thinks my lethargy is a result from the dash.

  I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, and continue to watch the drops fall to the cobblestones. Tilting my head, I give him a corner-of-the-eye look. “There’s a vamp in all of us and sometimes a warrior too. And for God’s sake, Hennessey, my name is Trista Dividir. I’m not married to him yet.”

  Forebodingly with his arms crossed tighter, Hennessy shifts his weight to one leg and grimaces. “So Marvy is your club name or the name you give to guys trying to get with you?”

  Swapping my focus to each of those water drops, I exhale, “Yeah, something like that.”

  He leans against the car with righteous indignation. I can feel his judgmental eyes pass criticisms against me again. “Okay then, call me Henn. May I be frank, Ms. Dividir?” he says more than asks. I shoot him the stink eye in return. “You know why we’re here, right Trista?”

  Nodding, I drop my eyes back to the ground.

  Henn’s voice rumbles low like someone is going to over-hear our conversation. “These are dangerous people. They’re not just going to let him break their business arrangement by selling off the shipping division. He’s naïve to think this deal will do it. I don’t know what he’s thinking, actually. Especially bringing you along. But since you are here, maybe you could talk to him.”

  There’s a crack in one of the colorful stones that make up the road. The others look worn, but not abused. I can’t avoid his request, but am hesitant to respond. “And say what? Do you have any better ideas?” I do, but if there is a more pragmatic alternative, it’s worth exploring.

  “If they agree to the terms of the sale for the shipping division, he could make it a stipulation for them to withdraw all their contracts in every other division of Seviride Industries. Untangle every single connection to the KK. He could get rid of his shipping division problem and the Croats in one fell swoop. The import and export business is really all they want him for so they can legitimize their organization in the eyes of the law. It’s established and reputable so they want it.”

  It is apparent Hennessey has been working this problem from different angles and this was the best he could come up with. I wonder how much he knows about Bryson’s dealings. He seems to be invested in both the business and in his boss’ well-being.

  Curiously, my mind speeds through the scenario he proposed. “Wouldn’t that hurt the company?”

  Hennessy snickers. “He’s a multi-billionaire, he’d survive. Bryson’s always wanted to concentrate on the tech side anyway.”

  I straighten my legs and test their agility. Coming to a stand, I reach for the azure sky and work the muscles in my back in a stretch. My face pinches when my core is pulled against its rigidity. Working up an indifferent tone as I flex, I put a voice to my thoughts. “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into this, why do you care so much?”

  Dropping his gaze, Hennessy kicks a pebble under the car. “We’ve known each other for a long time, since college. He’s not just my employer, he’s my friend. I know him better than I know my own brother, but he’s the most stubborn and arrogant S.O.B. I’ve ever known and won’t listen to me when it comes to business. He treats me like a hired hand even though I have a Masters in Finance.”

  “You can go anywhere you want to with a Master’s degree, Hennessy. Why stay with Seviride Industries as a body guard?”

  He grimaces. “I’m head of security, thank you very much.” I respond with a whatever look. “After I graduated, I worked on Wall Street and did really well. I had a real estate portfolio I was buying large blocks of stock for and one day the Feds came in and shut me down. I was arrested at my desk, all my files, and my laptop were confiscated, but no one would tell me why. My attorney found out the company I was buying and trading for was a shell company for a larger conglomerate. I cut a deal with the Trade Commission and the charges were dropped, but I was black-balled on Wall Street. No one would hire me. Bryson was one of the only friends I had left and he reached out with this job. It wasn’t the plan, but it pays the bills nicely.” Hennessy half-smiles and shrugs.

  Again, another nice guy that’s close to Bryson.

  More and more signs build a case that he’s not the horrible person everyone thinks he is. Although I still have to guard my words and actions. Cautiously gauging Hennessy’s loyalty, I pose a few questions. “So you’d do anything to protect him? What if it is something you knew he wouldn’t like?”

  Hennessey narrows his eyes, and leans back, his arms still bulging across his chest. “Why are you here? I know this engagement is a sham. I’ve seen you ‘at work’,” he says using air quotes for emphasis, “at the club. You’re like a revolving door. Don’t get me wrong, I mean he’s really happy around you so I guess he likes you. But why are YOU here? Aren’t you and that club owner, Xander Rush, a thing?”

  At this point, I’m not going to have any skin on my lip since I’m rubbing my thumbnail across it so hard. Withholding the truth and not having anyone to talk to is making me nuts. The way Hennessy is scowling at me it’s as if he can see right through my charade. The weight of it all is overwhelming, I have to confide in someone or my head will explode. Dealing with a major crime organization is way out of my league. I’m ill prepared if something goes wrong even if Valeria does come out. Being able to kick someone’s ass doesn’t stop a bullet.

  A long slow exhale that releases provides no relief and my head begins to pound. “Look Hennessy, it’s complicated between us, but I do know I want to protect him. If I can get the information about this final deal to the right people, I know I can get us out of this mess.”

  “First of all it’s Henn. Secondly, how?” he skeptically asks. Henn bursts out laughing. “Holy shit! Are you a nark?” My current appearance does paint a ludicrous image contrary to that truth.

  I decide to trust the fact he’s concerned for Bryson and it is time to fess up; tell him about the DEA/Vice investigation. Why Marvy was in the club that night and why I’m here.

  “Back at the club, I was tasked to find a girl named, Milinka. She was the FBI contact and was supposed to get close to Bryson. When she went off the grid, I was supposed to take her place as part of the deal I made with them.”

  Henn palms his chin and rubs the scruff on his jaw. “So you are a snitch and now you’ve fucked your way into his life. Just another bitch trying to take him down with her pussy.”

  “No! It’s not like that! You don’t understand! I know they have it wrong about Bryson. He’s not the man they think he is,” I continue. “If the information is viable and can bring them down, they’ll cut a de
al with Bryson and I’m off the hook too. He needs this, I need this; WE need this. If they don’t get information they can use, they’ll be after us forever with these bullshit charges. I don’t want to live on the run!”

  “And then what? You guys go into Witness Protection and live happily ever after?”

  Aggravated, I scrub my eye lids and run my hands through my wet hair. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it that far. I just need to get my life back and this is the only way.”

  I beg Henn with my gaze hoping he can see reason. “It’s the only way for Bryson too. Now, tell me everything you know about Simic.”

  He doesn’t need to know the other variables between me and Bryson. I’ve skirted around the part about my D.I.D. and Alex as well. That’ll just complicate the already complicated.

  Life in Makarska is moving past us as we discuss the delicate nature of our situation. The streets are filling up with people going about their day. Businesses are bustling with customers and tourists are enjoying the sun frolicking on the beach. And here Henn and I are with an ugly, black cloud over our heads discussing the FBI and the Croatian crime family.

  No one seems to pay us any attention, but you don’t know who is foe or friend. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here. We should go,” I prompt and get in the limo.

  Henn’s eyes calculate and assess our proximity non-stop. When they land on me, he nods in agreement. I pull my legs in the car, but Henn holds the door. “You know we’re dead if things go south here.”

  I don’t have to say it. My concurrence is written all over my face.

  ON THE DRIVE back Henn tells me what he knows about Simic, which isn’t much. I already know most of what he’s telling me. Andrijica Simic is the head of the largest clan in the Balkan crime organization, the Blood Kings. In Croatia they are called Krvne Kraljevi, or rather the KK he mentioned before. Supak was Andri’s cousin and was in charge of handling all port issues. He took care of bribes, enforcing, whatever it took to smooth out wrinkles with shipments coming in or out of the country. His sudden absence has probably raised red flags already. Henn doesn’t know if word has gotten back here, but I’m sure they’ve figured it out. And since Bryson was the last person to see him, all fingers point to him. The only thing is, there’s no body. Henn made sure of that.

  Yay?

  I think I swallowed my tongue when he said that. I’m surrounded by killers and body-getting-rid-of kind of people. Doubtful, but soon I may need to turn into one just to keep up.

  Who am I kidding? I can’t even shoot a basket, let alone a gun.

  The meeting is set for nine o’clock tonight and will be at Simic’s house. But that’s all Henn knows since Bryson doesn’t discuss business with him. I sense this is a raw nerve so I don’t approach. Their relationship dynamic is none of my business. I stiffen my lip and refocus the conversation. “We have to sneak in there and get some intel or we’re dead in the water.”

  He frowns at the expression. “Not a good choice of words,” he says as we pull up to the hotel. The doorman opens my door, but Henn holds me back. “Wait for me in the lobby while I park the car. We’ll go talk to Bryson together.”

  Pods of tourists, both checking in and out, pack the lobby. Others are sitting on couches or looking at the Tourist Information racks. A few talk to the Concierge to make plans for the day. The lobby buzzes with excited tourists and it lifts my spirits a bit as I head toward the elevators. I figure this is a good location to wait for Henn since it’s an inevitable destination. His support is vital to break the news to Bryson and I’m happy to accept his help. Then I can finally put most of this charade to rest.

  An arm links with mine, startling me out of my absorbing thoughts. My body knows the situation before I do when a chill runs up my legs. And rightfully so. My head snaps up to see my albino escort.

  “Hello Marvy, I have been waiting for you,” the man with the nightmare red–violet eyes says. “Let us talk.”

  The iciness spreads, chasing my prickling skin all the way up my spine. I go rigid staring at the man from the airplane. His skin is unnaturally smooth like fresh cream. Had it not been for my hunch that this man is not a good man, I would have found him beautiful. He needs a cheeseburger though. The lanky body and sallow cheeks aid my instinct and conclusion. My heart sprints as the man pulls me into the elevator, hitting the third floor button. With four inches left, the elevator doors narrow the noise of the lobby. At an inch, Hennessey speeds toward us. A futile effort and the doors seal my view of him. He is too late to do anything for me now. Before we exit onto the third floor, the albino randomly pushes a few more floor buttons. I assume to throw Henn off if he can.

  Every step takes the situation from bad to dead. I need to think quickly and delay that destination. I purposely trip over my feet, but all that does is require the man to drag me into one of the rooms. I’ve heard when you’re taken against your will, the best thing to do is become dead-weight. Because I’ve never been in a situation to trial this, I drop all my weight, but he lets me fall to the floor.

  Note to self: Your attacker must be strong enough to hold most of your weight.

  The defense technique I’ve heard through different sources doesn’t do anything more than allow me to hit my tail bone when I fall on my ass.

  The albino straightens his suit jacket and flattens his hair in a fastidious manner. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you.” In one large step, he towers over me and goes to sit on a barstool. “You are a vital, irreplaceable part of my plan. Come and sit.” The man unbuttons his jacket, exposing the gun in his holster.

  I flinch, pulling my knees to my chest and push my back against the door.

  “Please,” he insists, motioning to one of the chairs.

  Taking a wide berth, I move toward the closest chair, making sure to keep my eyes trained on him. “Who are you?” I can feel my lip trembling, but I’m working hard to keep my tone even. “What do you want from me?”

  The man stares at me with a crooked tight smile. There’s a wave rolling up my throat that I have to either swallow or puke. I choke it down, choosing not to show my nerves.

  He quirks a white eyebrow. “I would have expected more intelligent questions from a smart girl like you. But you’re young so I’ll give you some leeway. My name is Nikola Baric. Pavao was supposed to bring you here, but when he didn’t check in, I was sent to the states to find him and clean up whatever mess he created. Do you know what I discovered?”

  I don’t answer because I know what he discovered. Nothing.

  “Pavao was a fool. A stupid, selfish mistake cost him his life as you are well aware.”

  My eyes expand two sizes.

  “Yes, that’s right Marvy. Or is it Tristiana? Doesn’t matter, I know Seviride killed him to save you from that idiot. I told Pavao to leave you alone, but he wouldn’t listen. He had to have you and look where it got him: dead. Although I have to tell you, you actually did me a great favor. Now I don’t have to worry about that loose cannon and kill him myself. That would have been awkward.”

  Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Please Valeria, I need you!

  Unexpectedly, I feel an empowering strength and burst into a run for the door, but this skinny fucker is quicker than I am. He catches me and slams me into the wall. My head cracks against it last and I crumple to the floor. I hit so hard I can feel it in my teeth. Exploding black starbursts fill my vision and then there is only silence.

  MY EYES FLUTTER open to find myself lying on a couch. The throbbing pain from my head is familiar and unwelcome. I can’t understand where I am, but there is a cold towel on my forehead. A fuzzy image of a man standing with his back turned to me is at the door, signing for room service.

  “Bryson?” My blurry vision glazes the dimly lit room filtered only by dull indirect light from the partially drawn drapes. This room is almost dank, like a cheap motel room by the airport. The kind with roaches as regular tenants and that you can pay by the hour. I half expect
to see a rat run across the carpet. It doesn’t seem like I’m even in the same hotel as the one I am staying in. Maybe rooms get better the higher up you go.

  “Welcome back, Marvy. You really shouldn’t test my patience. I said I wouldn’t kill you because I have plans for you, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  What? Ooohh, I remember now. Ah shit. I’m still here. Freakin’ chicken shit alters!

  “Let’s have some lunch.” Nikola lifts the little silver domes and a waft of roasted chicken with steamed vegetables fills my nose. “How’s your head?”

  “Fine, thanks for asking. I’m getting tired of getting my ass kicked though. So why don’t you tell me what you want from me?” I no longer have any surge of empowerment. Instead, anger burns through me like I’ve never felt before. Sitting up, my eyes narrow. “This isn’t a fuckin’ lunch date, so talk.” My aversive tone surprises me, but I remain steady.

  Nikola, also surprised by my abrasive tone, stops mid–bite. He puts his fork down and folds his hands. “You and your new ‘husband’ will attend a party hosted by Andrijica Simic tomorrow night. I assume you already know who he is.”

  Arms folded and stoic, I nod.

  “When you are introduced, you are to put on your best ‘show’ and get him interested in you. You are already his type, and I know Supak shot his mouth off enough that you already hold his interest.”

  “What do I get out of this?”

  He wags his finger. “Ah, tit-for-tat, I knew you were a sensible girl. Supak was not only Andrijica’s cousin, he was the brother of a very powerful business connection. Do you know what a hornet’s nest you stirred up? If word of who his killer is leaked, it could endanger anyone around him or related to such a brutal killer,” Nikola says with bored concern. “Familial ties are important to the Krvne Kraljevi.”