Dynasty

by Jen Davis et al.

  “To teach the peacock a lesson.” Boris said. “That cocky bird will think twice before picking a fight with him again, don’t you think, dear?”

  Playboy snapped his fingers and waited for me to finish the job.

  I buried my nose in my jacket and zipped it up all the way. Trying not to gag, I tied the bag shut and took it out to the garbage receptacle in the garage.

  When I came back to the kitchen, Playboy was gone. “Where did he go?”

  “It’s over. You’re even,” Boris said. “Not a word of this to the boss.”

  I covered my mouth, doubled over, and vomited in the sink.

  Chapter 27

  Popped

  In the morning, three days before Christmas, snow fell as Dad loaded up the car for the trip. A winter storm was on the way, so he left work early to get on the road before the traffic got bad. Last Minute Christmas Miracle: Ryan scored tickets to the Bengals game on Christmas Eve and invited me to go. I begged and pleaded and flashed the ‘I’m-an-adult card’ so I could stay home from the family road trip.

  Reluctantly, and with a stern warning, Dad agreed. Kiki was in Florida with her family, so I guess not having my partner in crime eased his mind. I had decided to wait until after Christmas to break the news to him about the apartment.

  Before the family rolled away, we said our goodbyes. Megan squeezed her little arms around my waist. She looked adorable in a frilly green dress with reindeer prancing around the hemline. “If you see Santa, tell him I’m at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”

  “I will, kitty.” I kissed her on top of the head, and she bounced to the car.

  “We’ll miss you.” Karen gave me a hug and slid me some spending money. “I wish you would come. My parents have been asking about you.”

  “Next time,” I said.

  Then it was Dad’s turn. “No alcohol. No boys. No parties.” Dad perched his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t mess this up, Carter.”

  Potential fuck-up: Had Dad mentioned the change of plans to the boss? I was betting no. I’d waited until the last minute—when would he have had a chance, or even the inclination, to call Vladimir to report this? I should be fine. And God, did I need that freedom for one stinking weekend.

  In case I had a tail, I asked Dad to drop me off at the club on their way out of town, so if someone were spying on me, it would appear I’d left with the family as planned.

  The club was a ghost town. I hoped to hit some balls, but none of my friends were there. I walked around the corner and peeked down at the basketball court—empty. The elliptical put me to sleep, so I decided to shoot some hoops to get my heart pounding. A few minutes into my workout, Leonardo crashed the court.

  “¿Cómo estás?” He swaggered up to me and rebounded my rim shot.

  Shit. “Hey, what’s up?” I tried to keep it light.

  He bounced the ball at the free throw line and swooshed in a basket. He retrieved it and passed it to me. “Let’s see you make two in a row.”

  “Oh, I was just leaving.” I passed it back to him and headed for the exit.

  “Cluck, cluck, cluck.” Leonardo made a chicken sound.

  Seriously? My competitive drive kicked over to autopilot. I turned around and put my hand on my hip. He passed me the ball. I took a shot from the free throw line, but missed. I cursed and chased after the ball.

  “Fácil, LeBron. Let’s play a game. Uno a uno.”

  Of course, I should have said no and left the club. Boris had made it clear I was not to see him again—but the big guy thought I was on my way to Akron.

  Game on.

  I faked left and went up for a layup. Leonardo raised his hand and jumped to block the ball. When he came down, he landed on my ankle and twisted it sideways. I crumbled to the floor, groaning in pain. Careless bastard. I didn’t hear a pop, so it probably wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing like crazy. No way could I walk home in a blizzard with an excruciatingly painful, busted up ankle. So, I accepted a ride from Leonardo.

  I buried my face in my jacket as he carried me out so word wouldn’t get back to my college team coach, Erin. She would be pissed if she found out I was screwing around with the meatheads from the gym. Team practices were set to start up again in January, and she had sent out a team email warning us to behave over winter break:

  “Don’t screw around ice skating, snow skiing, bungee jumping, cage fighting, or engaging in other unnecessary activities that could jeopardize your health. You’re athletes, not wild chimpanzees. Have a great break. Go Bearcats!”

  The heavy snowfall was accumulating, and the roads were slick on the ride home. The forecast predicted eight to twelve inches. Leonardo parked in my driveway, and I tried to put some weight on my ankle and walk in on my own, but it was too sore. I resorted to hopping.

  Leonardo laughed. “I’ve got you, loca.” He folded me up in his arms before I could protest. Ryan had a perfect view of my house from his living room and would not be pleased to see The Spanish Stud carrying me into the house. Since Ryan and I had kind of started dating, we had barely seen each other. I wanted to go back to just being friends for multiple reasons, but I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about it.

  Once inside, Leonardo set me on the couch and went to the freezer for an ice pack. “Are we alone?” he asked, tossing his gym bag on the floor.

  I ignored him, and untied my laces to assess the damage. Sliding off my shoe was painful—even taking off my sock made me cringe. My ankle was swollen so badly, it appeared I had a softball stuffed under my skin. I feared it was more than a sprain.

  Leonardo winced. “Oh, baby, that’s not good.” He twisted the top off one of my dad’s longnecks and took a swig. “You’ll need to get an x-ray tomorrow.” He popped the top off another beer and offered it to me.

  Boys and beer: Dad’s first two rules broken in record time.

  Chapter 28

  Mixed Company

  “My dad will kill me if he finds out I drank his beer.”

  Leonardo set the bottle on the table and plopped down next to me. “Relax.” He wrapped an ice pack around my ankle and ran his fingers up and down my leg.

  I should have called Ryan to pick me up.

  “Thanks for the ride, but I’m exhausted. I need to rest.”

  Judging by his undaunted expression, he didn’t take the hint.

  “And I have a boyfriend.”

  Leonardo chugged his beer, leaned over, and pressed his body on top of mine. “You don’t act like a girl who has a boyfriend.”

  “What the fuck? Get off me, pig!”

  He scoffed at my rejection. “I’ll make you feel better.” He pushed my hair back and licked my ear.

  “Back off, asshole. You’re hurting me.”

  At that moment, all the lights went off in the house. The digital display on my dad’s desk went black. The storm had knocked out the power.

  “Nice timing.” He cupped my breasts.

  I tried to slap him in the face, but he caught my hand.

  My cell phone rang.

  I tried to shove him off.

  “No seas mala.” He held my wrists down and sucked on my neck.

  A loud knock came from the front door.

  Leonardo covered my mouth.

  The knock came again.

  I bit down on his hand until he let go. “Come in!”

  The door opened. “Carter? It’s me. Are you all right?” A flashlight cut through the darkness.

  “In here, Ryan.”

  When Leonardo heard Ryan’s deep voice, he rolled off me and sat up like nothing was wrong. “Keep your mouth shut,” he whispered. I didn’t need to see his face to know it was a threat.

  “I tried to call,” Ryan said. “The power is out on the whole block. Whose car is in the driveway?” He stepped into the room and shined a flashlight on the couch.

  Ryan shined the flashlight across my swollen ankle, then up to my heaving chest, then to my panic-ridden face. Then he shined it on Leonardo. “What
the fuck did you do to my girlfriend?” Then the flashlight dropped and the primal sound of fists on flesh echoed through the room.

  Oh, shit. I crawled on the floor and then got to my feet, using the edge of the table for leverage. The coffee table slammed into the wall in the living room. I hopped over to the door and pressed the police button on the alarm box.

  “Ryan, are you okay?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “The cops are on their way. Ryan?”

  A rush of panic swept over me when I considered the alarm button might not work because the power was out. I crawled to get my cell out of my purse. The guys were still wrestling and swearing at each other. I needed someone to get between them.

  “The police are coming. Get out of here, Leonardo.” I found my phone and started to dial 911, but thought better of it. Leonardo deserved an ass kicking, but I didn’t want Ryan to get into trouble. Another crash. I had to call Boris.

  He picked up on the first ring. “I need your help.” I heard the tinny sound of glass ornaments shattering when the Christmas tree went down. “I’m at Dad’s. Please hurry.”

  I hopped into the living room. “Ryan?” I used the light from my cell as a flashlight.

  “Stay back, Carter,” Ryan said. I could see in the faint light from the window he had Leonardo in a headlock.

  Sirens were nearing the house; I had activated the alarm after all.

  I tugged on Ryan’s arm to loosen his grip. “Don’t hurt him. Everything’s okay.”

  Leonardo struggled to get free, but Ryan had him good. “Give me my bag and I’ll go.”

  “Fuck you, loser,” Ryan said.

  “Give me my fucking bag!” Leonardo shouted.

  “Okay, okay.” I found his gym bag on the floor and started to toss it his way, then stopped. Why was he so worried about what I assumed were his sweaty gym clothes? I unzipped the bag and shined my cell phone light on the contents: a bounty of neatly portioned baggies of weed and coke, at least twenty rubber band bankrolls, and a small black gun.

  Oh, shit. “Let him go, Ryan. Now. Do it before the cops get here.”

  “Are you crazy, Carter?”

  “Trust me.” I startled even myself with the harshness of my tone. The image of Playboy’s vicious order to clean up my mess came to mind. I pushed the nightmare away, hopped to the front door, and opened it.

  Ryan dragged Leonardo to the front door and tossed him into the snow. I whizzed his car keys at him, but kept the gym bag. No way would I toss him a lethal weapon to use on us. I locked the door and then squeezed my arms around my hero. What would have happened if he hadn’t shown up?

  The sirens were getting closer. I shined the light on Ryan’s face. Blood oozed from a cut above his eye. My fault. I begged him to go home. “Hurry, Ryan, they’re almost here.” Reluctantly, he agreed. He could get kicked off the football team for fighting. I promised to call as soon as I could to explain everything.

  When the patrol car rolled up, I met the officer on the front porch with the hood of my jacket over my head and Leonardo’s felonious gym bag slung over my shoulder. No way could I leave illegal drugs, a small fortune, and a fucking gun in Dad’s house.

  Shit. I recognized the cop’s chubby freckled face and bushy black hair—Officer Montgomery. She had busted me drinking last summer and drove me home in her cruiser. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. I was home alone and the power went out. I kind of freaked out.”

  “What made you freak out?”

  I pointed to my swollen ankle. “I was running to the kitchen to get a candle and kicked the coffee table.”

  The officer ran her flashlight down my leg. “Looks like it might be broken.” She raised the light to my face.

  “I know. My grandpa is on his way over to take me to get an x-ray. There he is now.” I pointed to the Cadillac. Jeez. He must have been close by.

  “Have we met, miss?”

  Oh, shit. “Um, not to my knowledge, officer.”

  “You live here with your parents?”

  “Yes. They’re visiting relatives in Akron.”

  Boris made his way up the sidewalk. The police officer eyed his big body up and down.

  “Thanks for getting here so quickly, Gramps. Can you take me to the hospital to get an x-ray?” I pointed to my foot and nodded.

  His gaze drifted to the driveway and to the tire tracks in the snow from Leonardo’s car. “Good evening, officer. Thank you for checking on my precious granddaughter.” His coat collar was popped up around his neck to conceal his knife tat, and he had on leather gloves to cover up his prison tats. “Let’s go, dear.”

  My dad’s ring tone had been erupting from my cell nonstop for several minutes. He must’ve gotten a call from the alarm company.

  The officer held up her hand. “Just a minute. Can I see your ID, young lady?”

  I fished my license out of my purse and handed it to the cop. As she examined my info, a knowing smile crept up on her face. “Carter Cook. I didn’t recognize you with your hair covered.” She tapped my license in her hand. “I’ve busted you before. You and your feisty little friend, right?”

  Shit. “My mistake, Officer Montgomery.”

  “Have you been drinking tonight?”

  I felt Boris’s villainous glare bearing down on me.

  “No, ma’am. Not a drop. I learned my lesson. Can we go now?”

  “A pretty girl like you can get into a lot of trouble drinking in mixed company. You’re lucky we busted up your after-hours pool party last summer.” She glanced at Boris then to me again. “Glad you straightened out. Hope your ankle is okay.”

  “Thanks.” I reached up and put my arm around Boris’s shoulder so I could hop to the car, but he was out of patience. As I clutched the gym bag, Boris scooped me up, carried me to the Cadillac like an infant, and dumped me in the passenger seat.

  I tucked the gym bag at my feet, and Boris drove away like everything was cool. I forced a smile and waved to the officer, still parked in front of the house filling out her report. She squinted at Boris’s license plate as he rolled away.

  “I don’t need an x-ray.” I pulled out my cell. “I have to call Dad.”

  Boris drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Hi, Dad. I’m fine. The power went out. I accidentally hit the alarm button when I tried to turn on the light…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I did it until the police showed up…Yes, they just left. Everything’s fine.”

  Dad had already turned the car around and was on his way home. I convinced him to get back on the road. Dad was sharp, though. “If the electricity is out, you’ll freeze to death. You’ll have to stay somewhere tonight.”

  “Okay, I’ll call around—”

  “I’ve already got you covered. When I couldn’t reach you, I called Vladimir. He has a generator. Boris is on his way. You can stay with them until the power comes back on.”

  I hung up the phone. Boris looked like he was ready to kill someone. I’m guessing that someone would be me.

  Chapter 29

  Homicidal Rage

  “Your lies won’t work on me.” Boris removed his gloves and tossed them on the floor.

  “I’m not planning on lying to you, please—”

  “Nyet.” He held up a finger to my face. “Who was at the house?”

  “Um—”

  “No um, just name.”

  My fear spilled over into tears. “You don’t have to interrogate me.”

  “Sneaky little weasel.” His fist pounded the dashboard. “I take my eye off you for one hour, look what happens.”

  The Caddy was swerving all over the road from the icy conditions. “Everything is okay. I’m okay. I promise.” My ankle was throbbing, Ryan was home with a bloodied face, and I had a bag full of drugs and a gun—yeah, everything was cool. How did I get myself into this mess? “Please, pull over. I’ll tell you everything.”

  I had to buy some time. If I told him what had prompted the fight, he would hunt down Le
onardo and kill him with his bare hands. The guy was an asshole sexual predator drug dealer, but I couldn’t be responsible for his murder. I had to think of a convincing lie. When Boris pulled into the park, he turned the car off and put the keys on the dash—an intimidation technique, no doubt.

  “Hurt anywhere besides your ankle?” His prison-tatted hands strangled the steering wheel.

  I shook my head.

  “You called me for help. You made up a story to police officer. You lied to Papa. You will not pull this shit on me.” He grabbed my coat and growled in my face. “Truth. Now.”

  I tried to wiggle away.

  “Last chance.”

  “If I tell you what happened, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

  “Who was at your house?”

  “Nobody.”

  He let go of me and took a deep breath. He was trying to control his temper, and it wasn’t working. Veins were popping like champagne bottles.

  “I’m begging you, Boris. Leave it alone. Everything is under control.” I subconsciously rubbed my wrists over the area where Leonardo had pinned me down.

  Boris studied my body language, and then lifted his hand like he was about to deliver a backhand to the side of my face. “You disobeyed me?”

  “Not on purpose, I swear. I didn’t plan it.”

  He lifted his cell out of his coat, tapped the screen, and yelled in Russian. That’s what Vladimir did when I had a problem with Coach. I couldn’t let this happen again. In desperation, I snatched the gym bag, opened my door, and hopped toward the tree line like an injured animal. I needed to find somewhere to dump the evidence.

  “Did he touch you?” He removed his gun from the glove box and tucked it in his pants.

  “No. Ryan kicked his ass.” I don’t want to tell him this. I don’t want to tell him…“I got hurt playing basketball and needed a ride home, okay? That’s why he was at my house, I swear. Ryan came to check on me after the power went out, and they got into a fight. There’s blood and glass all over the house. I lied to the cop to protect Ryan, not Leonardo.” Unable to keep my footing, I toppled to the ground in a mound of powdery snow. Pain shot up from my jacked-up ankle to every nerve in my body.