The Beast of Boston

by JL Mac

  Her eyes roam over my domain and I know the look when I see it. She’s soaking it in, studying. Whether she realizes it or not, she’s had that same wide-eyed look every time she enters Eden. Someone sent her. She’s here for a reason, and I need to find out why. Her eyes flit over the patrons and seem to get hung up on some piece of shit at the bar. Her fists ball at her sides and her face blanches then goes from white to red from one minute to the next. She peers around and trains her features into complete neutrality.

  Those hands of hers slide over her hips and she takes a deep breath making her full, pert tits push further out of the low neckline of her tight little dress. I follow her gaze from the shadows wondering who this trash at the bar is.

  Abigail prowls toward him, the slow, and graceful swing of her fine hips looking like a fucking church bell calling all sinners to kneel at her altar and repent. She slows as she approaches his right shoulder and she leans in whispering over his shoulder as she glides close behind him to his other ear.

  Oh, you’re good, Abigail.

  Her index finger drifts from one shoulder to the other as the guy seems shocked enough to fall from his chair but if his drunken grin is any indication of what he’s thinking, he knows he’s hit the jackpot. A wave of possessiveness shoots sharply through my gut and I shove it away before I end up beating the shit out of this ratty asshole for no reason other than the fact that Abigail, for whatever reason, seems interested in him. He stiffly cranes his neck as he speaks with her. She says something back to him and he nods and fishes down into his pocket. He withdraws a cell phone and I watch as she spouts off what I assume is her phone number. The man smiles triumphantly and says something back to her and I read her plump red lips as she replies with a sly smile.

  Abigail.

  Yeah, sure. Feed this joker the same bullshit. He’ll buy it. I won’t.

  The sleazy looking fucker nods and says something back and she tosses him another sly smirk as she pats him gently on his shoulder. The guy glances at his phone one more time and seems to ask her a question as he types on it. Abigail’s eyes dart around the club one more time then she nods and walks away from him and heads in the direction of the corridor that leads to the offices. The guy leans back watching her go for a moment before he stands up, slaps money down and makes a rush for the exit.

  I cock my head wondering what in the hell just happened, but my eyes find Abigail where she’s stopped by the corridor and something strikes me like a fucking uppercut.

  The look in that woman’s eyes, whoever she is, is unmistakable. Bloodlust. Pure, raw, bloodlust. Whoever she is, whoever he is, she most definitely doesn’t have anything good in mind for him. She seems entranced as she watches the sleaze ball make haste for the exit, probably under the pretense of a hookup with none other than my mystery woman. The hunger for blood in her face and body language is clear to me. I’ve seen it all my life but never from an all-American college girl. This look, the one that spells murder is reserved for a select few in my world and I happen to call them friends.

  Abigail seems to snap out of whatever world she was in and goes to the bar asking Smitty for a drink. He pours her poison and she gulps it down in one shot then orders another. Once Smitty has refilled her glass she turns toward the office and leaves. I slip from the shadows and head right for the bar.

  “What’s up, Beast?” Smitty asks as he pours drinks without a glitch.

  “Do you know who that guy was? The one who was sitting right here?” I indicate the vacant stool beside me and hope Smitty has the goods as bartenders normally do.

  “Yeah, that’s Bobby Bonner.”

  “Does he come here much?”

  “When he’s got money which isn’t often. His dough usually goes right up his nose or in his arm.”

  I nod in understanding and clap my hand on the bar top before heading toward my blood thirsty, redheaded pain in the fucking ass. I find her leaning against the wall beside my office door looking… I’m not sure if she’s upset or sad or angry. Though I have only known her a short while, this is a new look.

  “You’re right, you know.” She mumbles with her gaze downcast.

  “About?”

  “Me,” she confesses, and I snag her by her elbow and pull her into my office, shutting and locking the door behind us.

  “Go on.”

  “I know who you are. All of the eastern seaboard knows who you are. I’m not dumb. You make me nervous, but I envy you,” she says so quietly, her pupils already dilated thanks to the booze she snagged from the bar.

  “Why do you envy me, Ms. Tally?”

  “You don’t have to feel bad when you hurt someone. I have to feel bad if I hurt someone even if they deserved it. Even if I don’t really feel bad at all, I still have to pretend to feel bad,” she whispers. “No choice,” she shrugs and smiles mirthlessly.

  “And there’s someone you want to hurt?”

  “Yep,” she sighs and looks so bone-tired.

  “Someone did something that deserves my attention, I’ll handle it. You’re one of my girls. You have my protection. Just tell me who you are and we can handle whatever it is,” I demand. Again. She takes a long swallow from the glass in her hand and I wonder if she’s really just going to fall apart and confess all her lies right here and now. I ignore the little part of my brain that hopes she doesn’t because then she’d have to go. She’d be gone.

  “I’m stupid, stupid Abigail Tally. I’m no one. That’s all.” She punctuates her answer by draining the remainder of her drink. “Could I maybe have more of this? Not like I’m working,” she snorts and uses air quotes as best she can while holding her glass in one hand.

  “Bar’s open Ms. Tally but let me make something abundantly clear to you. You belong to me. So don’t even consider approaching men at the bar again. Makin’ me look bad, KO.”

  She snorts lightly and laughs. “You have some great whiskey here. Hey, who gave me that nickname?”

  “I did.”

  “That’s quite the compliment.”

  I shrug. “Has a double meaning.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, you’d have to be blind to not know you’re a fucking knockout but I also wanted every swinging dick within a ten mile radius of you well aware that knocked the fuck out is what they’ll be if they lay a hand on what’s mine,” I say giving in to temptation to touch her body. I draw her close to me and inhale her. She’s my personal drug and I need a hit. I have to wonder how long smelling her close to me will be enough.

  “O—Oh,” she hiccups.

  “If you plan to drink any more you’re not leaving my sight.”

  “Yep. I’ll be right. In. There. Hey, that’s three words all over again today. My three words earlier today were sh—itty ones,” she hiccups again.

  “Three words?”

  “Yeah do you have three words? You just pick three words for the day to say how you feel or somethin’ like that,” she explains as I grasp her by the shoulders and force her to sit on the couch in my office. “It’s this dumb game my folks made me do when I was a kid because I was tightlipped.” She waves her hand outward like she’s swatting at an invisible flying bug.

  Imagine that.

  “What were your words today?”

  “Uh—uh Mr. Nosy. Tell me yours,” she says getting up to help herself to my personal decanter of bourbon.

  “Better. Go. Easy,” I say pointing to the glass in her hand.

  “Oh. Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” She settles into the cushions and stares at me and sips on what’s left in her glass. I wait until the booze has done most of the work for me. With strong liquor greasing the wheels of progress, perhaps I’ll get the truth out of her.

  “Who was the guy at the bar? You clearly know him.” Her eyes get wider for a moment then grow heavy again.

  “He’s no one,” she says then drains her newly refilled glass with two big gulps.

  “Didn’t look like just no one.”

  “He will
be a no one. One day,” she affirms and even through her whiskey soaked brain I can tell she’s sincere.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me,” I mutter as I watch her eyes get heavier and eventually she passes out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ena

  Ena, 17 years old…

  I know the moment my feet hit the cool wood floor in the foyer that I’m not going to pull it off. I won’t make it to my room undetected, successfully having snuck out and made the return as well. What is it about doing dumb things doomed for failure that somehow you just know when the whole thing is about to go off the rails?

  I tiptoe, mindful of where to step next. I know where all the creaky spots are and I’m careful to avoid them. I’m only three or four feet from my room when I hear Dad behind me. I stop and turn, resigned to being caught. There’s no getting out of this one.

  I am shocked to see him in his uniform. He was off last night and was supposed to be asleep when I left.

  “Care to explain to me where my teenaged daughter has been all night?”

  “Uh. I stayed the night at Mallory’s house. I didn’t do anything illegal or wrong. You have my word, Dad.”

  “Your word? Your word means shit, Ena!” he fumes. “I don’t like the behavior I’ve seen outta you recently. What kinda example are you setting for Lan?”

  “Sorry but you know I don’t usually get into trouble. You know I’d never do anything to cause Lan any trouble and I’d never let her do something stupid.”

  “Oh, like sneaking around town at night? That’s your good example?”

  “I was one block over all night. I walked straight there and straight back.”

  “You know how easy it would be for someone to grab you,” he says leaning closer to me and I’ve never seen him so mad at me. “You wanna know how many thugs out there would gladly snatch you up, sell you, use you? Do you know your own value? You have no idea,” he trails off pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

  “You know I’d never get into real trouble and I would never let Lan get into real trouble either. Ever. You know you can trust me on that!” I plead.

  “I don’t trust you any more than I trust… the criminals I deal with every day,” he waves his arm out wide shaking his head at the same time. “I don’t trust you any more than those gang thugs I dealt with last night! That’s the truth of it! Dammit, Ena!”

  It’s fitting for that memory to be the first one in my aching head this morning. I groan and roll onto my side kicking myself for getting drunk last night.

  Wait. I got drunk last night.

  “Fuck,” I whisper jackknifing myself up in bed then regretting it almost instantly. That’s when it hits me I’m not in my lousy little rental. I’m in a giant cozy bed in a room I don’t recognize at all. “Oh, fucking hell,” I say sliding my hand between my legs to check for evidence that something really, really bad happened. I sag with relief when I feel my panties still in tact and in place. I look around the room for an indication of which hotel I’m in. This must be a hotel right? As if the universe is supplying me and answer my eyes catch on a familiar Rolex laying on top a dark wooden dresser against the far wall.

  Oh. God.

  Beast took me… somewhere. I inhale deeply and cover my face with my hands. I look at the spot in the bed beside me and wonder if he slept there. The pillows are fluffy and neat so it doesn’t appear he did. A knock on the door has me tugging the bedding up and tucking it under my arms.

  I swipe at my eyes. Black makeup smudges are on my fingers and the hellacious contact lenses are making me want to rip my eyeballs out. I blink rapidly, willing more moisture to form. Beast doesn’t say anything as he opens the door.

  “Do you have any eye drops? Saline?” I rasp in a morning voice. “Any aspirin,” I groan and hold my throbbing head.

  Beast snorts and sets a bottle of water and a bottle of painkillers on the side table. “I’ll go see if there are eye drops around. Wait here.”

  “Trust me I’m not moving.”

  I hear him chuckle as he leaves the room. I squint looking around the place. Dark, heavy furniture fills the room. The bed is huge with fluffy white bedding. The walls are a light dove gray with dark trim. The wall art is simple and generic like you’d expect of a hotel room.

  Beast returns a minute or two later with eye drops. I snag them and tilt my head back.

  “Ah. So much better,” I mutter, dropping the liquid in both my eyes. “Thank you.” I hand him the drops back and down two aspirin.

  “Is this your house?”

  “One of them and technically it’s an apartment for business use,” he nods. “Do you always talk in your sleep?”

  “Uh…” I laugh quietly but my queasy stomach just got queasier. “I’m not sure.”

  “You’ve never had a boyfriend or anyone tell you that you talk in your sleep?” He folds his corded, muscular arms over his chest and furrows his brows at me.

  “Um. Nope. I don’t actually date, or sleepover with men so…” I trail off shrugging.

  “You did last night.”

  “Yeah. I don’t normally drink like that.” I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment and worry.

  “Who’s Lan?”

  “Who?” I feign ignorance.

  “You kept mumbling about Lan when you passed out.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know,” I shrug grabbing the bottle of water again just for something to do with my hands that are now trembling.

  “Well, maybe you should drink more often, Abigail. Seems like it’s the only time you’re honest with me. I have some things to handle. Will is going to drop you off back to at your place. Pack a bag. He’s waiting outside so be quick about it.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. A bag? Where are we going?”

  “Business trip.”

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Fuck.

  “Be ready at noon with a bag packed for the weekend.”

  “So why am I going if it’s your business trip?”

  “Because I'm your client and I said so and if that's not good enough for you then you'll go because I'm your boss and I'm ordering you to go.”

  Carrick turns and leaves me alone, mentally reeling. I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to get killed before finding Lan. I’ve got to figure something else out. I mentally try to clear the fog of my hangover and start making a better plan. I can just disappear and attempt something else… what though?

  I flop over in his magnificent bed and pray for a miracle or a sudden burst of brilliance sprinkled with a copious amount of good fortune.

  I power on my real cell phone and wait for the notifications to pile up. I’m sure at least mom has texted me. Remembering that I’m supposed to be hiking at Yosemite by now, I open my cellphone’s browser and save a few images from the web. They look genuine enough. Mom won’t know any different. My cell phone chimes once, twice, three times and I open my messages.

  Mom- How’s the trip going?

  Mom- Call when you get a chance. Miss you and love you.

  Me- Hey! The trip has been amazing. Really what I needed. Wish you were here.

  I attach the stolen images of my nonexistent hike at Yosemite and send the text. I press the home button forgetting I had a third message. Opening my texts again, I note the contact number is ten zeroes. Furrowing my brow, I open the text but the screen is blank. Nothing.

  Weird.

  I glance at the time and decide to go ahead and call my mom now. The phone rings twice before she picks up.

  “Hey honey,” she says warmly.

  “Hey Mom.”

  “Glad you decided to call. I’ve missed you.”

  “Miss you too. Did you get my pictures?”

  “I just did. How gorgeous and peaceful it looks! Honestly honey, I wish I could have gone with you. I just—If something changes and Lan…”

  “No. I know. You need to be
at the house. I didn’t ask during our last call but has Kevin called or stopped by with an update?”

  “He checked in with me a couple days ago but he says they are at a dead end. He thinks she’s just being rebellious. I know it’s possible I just don’t think that’s it. My gut tells me she wouldn’t do that to me. Am I crazy?”

  “No, Mom. You aren’t crazy.”

  “I feel crazy. This whole thing is just so difficult,” her voice cracks and my own throat constricts. “Even Kevin looks awful like he hasn’t slept in a decade. He’s been working on her case around the clock.” Her voice wobbles and I swallow hard trying to keep my emotions in check. “He actually asked where you were when he came by the house. I told him you’re travelling. I think he wanted to discuss the case with you or maybe he’s going to bug you about starting at the department. You know daddy would have pestered you all the way up until you’d gotten your badge,” she sighs then sniffles.

  “You’re right. He would. And I only want to make you all proud,” I say sincerely.

  “You always have, sweetheart. I guess I’ll let you go so you can hit the road again. Janis is coming to drag me from the house. We’re going to a fourth of July barbeque at one of her teacher friend’s house. She said it’s a vegan barbeque.” Her voice is flat and mirthless.

  “Oh joy.” I sigh wishing I were home with her watching the firework shows on TV with a giant bowl of popcorn sitting between us on the couch.

  “My thoughts exactly. I love you baby.”

  “Love you too, Mom. Bye.”

  Tossing my cell phone on the bed behind me I scrub my hands across my face feeling suddenly completely drained and more frustrated than ever. A growing sense of unease has me feeling fidgety and antsy. It’s funny how upsetting family situations can drain you while simultaneously making sleep a non-option. Before I can even begin packing a bag for the trip with Beast that I am not even sure I’m going to take my phone rings.