“Ms. Monroe.” A man in a dark uniform, bulletproof vest protecting his chest, and a badge tucked to his side, approaches me. “I’m Special Agent Dax Prescott of the FBI—Jesus.” He shouts over my shoulder. “Gray, get her a fucking medic,” he snaps to the asshole that still hasn’t let me go. He releases me, and I brush off his hold. “Are you okay, Ms. Monroe?”
“No, I’m not. I need to see my—the guy I was with. Where did they take him? I need to go see him!”
He watches me for a brief moment. “He’s just on the other side being checked over. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“No, I want to see Cash,” I demand. I’m not telling this guy shit. I need to see Cash. I search for him, my lower lip, stiff and swollen, starting to quiver.
“And I’ll let you, but you’re in some serious trouble. I suggest we have a talk first.” I stare at him, wanting to know what sort of trouble I’m in. I was the one kidnapped! And how does he know my name? Better yet, how did they know we were…
“How do you know my name?” I ask, unease settling in my stomach.
He exhales a long sigh, as if he knows this is going to be a longer night than he planned. “Where should I start? The car lifting? Your multiple warrants in Ohio for grand larceny, an endless amount of traffic violations—”
“You’re telling me this is all because I didn’t pay a speeding ticket?”
He shakes his head, grabbing the back of his neck. “I don’t make it a habit to bring an entire task force all the way from Ohio to California because I’m worried about your petty crimes, Ms. Monroe. Tonight, it’s about you and your involvement with Vincent Leoni.”
Fuck.
Shit.
“I don’t know—”
“Cut the shit, Luna. Your joyride’s over. Drug trafficking, theft, murder—” He stops talking as a medic approaches, asking to check me out. We walk over to the open ambulance, Agent Prescott on our tail in case I try to run. The medic attaches me to an IV because there’s no doubt I’m severely dehydrated, then proceeds to clean my neck wound. He secures my broken finger in a splint and exposes my wrists. When Agent Prescott gets a visual of the disaster of my raw and mangled wrists, he hisses. “Jesus, what did that motherfucker do to you?”
“He kidnapped and tortured me. Then he took me out for ice cream right before he shoved a gun in my face, telling me he was going to feed me to the fish. Please. Let me see my…friend.” Agent Prescott steps aside while the medic cleans my wrists, spreads ointment, and wraps them.
“You’re not in a position to make demands, Ms. Monroe. Jade Kingston. The name ring a bell?” He catches me off guard with that one. I’m unable to hide the flash of pain in my eyes. I keep completely still, fighting not to replay the image of Jade’s decaying body on the beach. “Three weeks ago, Mr. Kingston was flagged for asking around about an illegal race gone bad. Fire, female racer who disappeared. Any of this refresh your memory?” I don’t say a word, so he continues. “We know it was you, Luna. Took some time to identify you, but thanks to Mr. Kingston, we filled in the missing pieces.”
Now he has my attention. “He wouldn’t rat on me.”
“No, you’re right, he wouldn’t. But throw felony larceny at someone and it’s amazing what they’ll confess.”
I don’t want to believe him. Jade has been my friend—my only friend since…
“Gave us a good surprise, I’ll admit. Finding out a young, female drag racer was behind this. Our narcotics team has been tracking Leoni’s cartel for months. We couldn’t get a good handle on him, until one night, an unknown suspect hijacks his luxury car. Not even we were aware of the extensive amount of heroin stashed in the car. But you…you—”
“I didn’t know—”
“You managed to one-up Vincent Leoni. Stole his car right under his nose.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. And even if I stole a car, I had nothing to do with those drugs.”
Agent Prescott leans into me, his steely gaze trying to rattle me. “Okay, Ms. Monroe, I’ll play your game. I’ll start with the basics. You are aware street racing is illegal, correct?”
Fuck. “What does that have to do with anything? I told you I had nothing to do with those drugs. So unless I’m being arrested for something…” Shit, probably. What am I not about to be arrested for right now? I suck in a deep breath. Don’t break down. Don’t break down. His silence is suffocating. “Okay, fine, I didn’t know. I didn’t kill anyone either. I didn’t know. Jade…Leoni’s cartel, they killed him.” Fuck, shut up, Luna. I cover my face, needing to calm down. I’ve seen enough cop shows to know everything I say right now will have an effect on my future.
“You left the scene of a crime with three dead bodies. Lots of questions need to be answered, starting with why you ran if you were innocent? What were your intentions with the heroin? How long have you been running with the Leoni Cartel—”
“I had nothing to do with that! Fine, yeah, I stole the car, but I had no idea who it belonged to. I didn’t kill anyone!”
“Then why’d you run?”
“Why did I run? Because I was scared! Those men…they shot Jerad for no reason! They said they were going to kill me! They said their boss was going to rip my limbs off and do disgusting things to me. I didn’t know there were drugs in the car!” I rip the IV out of my arm and toss the tube to the side. “I’m done talking until I see Cash,” I demand.
Agent Prescott seems unimpressed. Even less now that blood seeps down my arm from the IV I just ripped out. He grabs my hand, putting pressure over my wound, leaning into the ambulance to grab a bandage. “Until we get a full statement, I’m going to need you to come with me for a briefing.”
“What! No way! You can’t just take me. Unless you’re arresting me, let me—”
He flips me, grabbing my arms to cuff me. “Luna Monroe, you have the right to remain silent.”
“Please! Let me see Cash! Let me talk to him. I’ll go willing. I’ll answer any questions you have, just please…” He takes some time to weigh our options, then sighs heavily. Pulling out his phone, he dials a number. “Prescott. Yeah, I need to take Monroe in and cross-examine her. Bring Huntington over as soon as he’s checked out. Got it.” He hangs up and places his phone back in his pocket. “There. He’s right behind us. Now without fighting me, because it’s already going to be a long night, do you think you can walk to my car and not try to run?”
Running sounds like a way better option. I don’t know what happens once I get in that car, and I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him, which is like a centimeter since he’s bulky and three times my size.
“What happens when I get in that car?” I ask, suddenly nervous.
“We head down to the station and talk. We fill in the blanks. Luna, do you understand who you were dealing with? The extensity of this situation?”
All the Googling. The articles. The photos leaked on the internet. My stomach takes a violent turn, and I wrap my arms around my waist. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then if you’re innocent, let me help you. Because right now, you need someone. It does not look good for you.”
Three counts of first-degree murder. Theft. Attempt to sell. Twenty-five pounds of heroin. Not to mention every other single minor law I’ve broken over my lifetime. Because I ran, it makes me an accessory to murder. Without witnesses, they can only assume I shot Jerad, set fire to two of Vincent Leoni’s goons, and took off with a ton of money. When Agent Prescott is done explaining the extent of my troubles, I twist in my chair and barf on the floor.
“Shit,” he grumbles, throwing the door open. “Someone! Get me a mop…and some water.” When the door shuts again, he sits back down across from me. “Why did you run?”
I already answered this question. “Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“I already told you. They threatened my life. I freaked out. I thought if I just got out of town, they wouldn’t try to find me. How did you
find me? Why was Jade with Vincent if you got to him first?”
None of this makes sense.
“I told you, we’ve been undercover watching Leoni’s crew for months. We knew the car had been stolen. We knew about the fire. We knew about you. We just didn’t have a name. Until Mr. Kingston started asking around. We offered him a deal to help us lure you out, but it seems he signed a deal with Leoni’s cartel instead.”
My chest heaves in and out. I close my eyes, fighting back another wave of uneasiness. “What do you mean, they got to him first?”
“In exchange for helping us lure you out, we were willing to turn a blind eye to his illegal habits. It was only a matter of time before Vincent found you. You see Luna, you weren’t as slick as you thought. The eye in the sky catches everything. We pinged you getting on that bus in Ohio. We followed you to Santa Monica.”
“That was almost three weeks ago. Why’d you wait so long to arrest me?” Mild annoyance settles across his thinned lips. “You lost me, didn’t you? Eye in the skies didn’t work after all?”
“If we would have, you wouldn’t have gone through the experience you have. Mr. Kingston chose to take matters into his own hands. But he proved helpful in the end. We still tracked him, and luckily, he did indeed find you.”
“Yeah, and then they shot him! You could have helped him. Saved him from the brutal death he didn’t deserve!” Jesus. I grab at my shirt. It’s so heavy against my chest.
“He chose to work against the law, Luna. We could have helped him, but he—”
“Helped him? You didn’t care about helping him. You were going to use him. This is all your fault! You got my best friend killed!”
He sits back in his chair, allowing me a moment, which I fucking need. Another cop opens the door and places a cup of water next to me while a janitor quickly cleans up my vomit. Once we’re alone, he continues.
“Jade was offered protection. He turned it down. We cannot force people to accept our help.”
This guy is a son of a bitch. “Fine, then how did you find me? What took you so long? I’ve been out here for three weeks. Seems like a shitty task force you have if you ask me.”
“We found you seven days ago. We were waiting to make our move.”
Seven days ago? I cynically laugh. “Oh yeah? And what move? For me to hijack another drug laden car? Meet up with my pal, Vincent? Or maybe to get kidnapped and tortured and watch my best friend get shot in the head in front of me!” I angrily swipe a fallen tear off my cheek.
“Mr. Kingston fell off our radar ten days ago. He pinged back up two days ago with Leoni’s crew. It was our confirmation that he chose them over us. We waited until he made contact with you.”
And by doing that, it cost him his life. I cup my face, allowing the tears to fall. The last twenty-four hours are catching up to me, and I can’t stop the emotions from taking the wheel. Agent Prescott must think I’m a looney toon.
“Listen, I told you what you wanted to know. Let me see Cash.”
His expression turns my blood cold. He doesn’t plan on fulfilling his part of the deal. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. He has a superficial flesh wound and needed to go to the hospital. But until we question him, I can’t allow you to see him.”
“Why?” I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.
“Because who’s to say he wasn’t in some way involved.”
I swipe the water across the table. Throwing my chair back, I stand, wanting to toss the fucking table at him, but my wrists are on fire and blood is starting to seep through the thick bandages.
“I should take you to a doctor as well.”
“Fuck you! Don’t act like you care now. Cash has nothing to do with this. Nothing! He is innocent.”
“Was he aware of your business with Vincent Leoni—”
“I didn’t have business with that creep!”
“Did you travel to California to meet up with Mr. Huntington?”
“No.”
“Mr. Huntington was flagged at an illegal race in Salinas two nights ago. How do we know he’s not in on this with—”
“Stop. Stop right there.” Fear attacks my lungs. There’s a sharp pain in my abdomen and my breathing quickens into short pants.
“Luna, sit down.” Agent Prescott stands, but I throw my hands out, signaling him to stay away from me.
“Listen. I’ll cooperate with whatever it is you want. I will confess, take blame, write my statement in blood, but please, Cash has nothing to do with this. That race was meant for me—a race Vincent forced me to participate in to win money, or to test out his puppeteering skills, I don’t know. Cash showed up to protect me. He has no idea what I’m involved in.” He studies me for some time. It’s not until he nods that I start to breathe.
“Okay. I believe you.” He waits for me to take a seat. “Let’s make a deal, shall we?” I’ll do anything if it keeps Cash away from my mess. “I will do what I can to keep Mr. Huntington’s name out of this. As far as anyone knows, they were looking for you and Mr. Kingston. We didn’t get wind of him until the night of the race. For all I care, you were behind the wheel that night.”
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll do it.”
“I need your full statement.” Easy. “I’ll need you to testify. We’ll request anonymity. Your identity will remain concealed, of course.” Fine. “Once you’re cleared of any wrongdoing, I will need you to head back to Ohio with me and square up your warrants.” Fuck. “You do that for me, I’ll even put in a good word for you, have them go easy on you. But this rap sheet… I can’t turn a blind eye to it.”
So, this is what it means when they say the past always catches up to you. Maybe Vincent was right about Pandora and me opening up a box of problems. “Fine, whatever.” There’s not much else to say.
My whole life has felt like a bunch of dead ends. No matter how hard I fight, there will never be a way out of this life. The universe has proven to me time and time again, I’m not meant to have nice things. A decent life. Happiness. Love. All those hopes and dreams died the day my mom left me in the hands of this cruel world. It was foolish of me to think I could change. The last few weeks have been a fairy tale. And now I hate myself for thinking there was finally a happily ever after at the end of this. More like an unrealistic fantasy. Getting the slightest taste of what could have been makes it worse. Stupid Luna Monroe, thinking she deserves better. The next three hours are spent answering the same questions over and over until I end up spelling my own name wrong because that’s how bad they confuse me. By the time we’re done, it has to be morning.
“You look dead on your feet. I think you need to see a real doctor.”
“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away?”
For the first time since he dragged me from the beach, there’s a smidge of sympathy in the way he regards me. “I’m sorry. I was only doing my job. You were our target. Not our victim. You have to understand.” He stops talking as even his own excuses fall short. “Once you’re properly examined, we’re leaving for Ohio. I have to get your paperwork. Sit tight.” He gets up from his chair and heads toward the door.
“I’m not going to see him, am I?” I ask, the words just as painful coming out of my mouth as hearing what his answer will be.
He stops, his hand around the doorknob when he turns to face me. “It’s best you don’t. You want to keep him out of this? Walk away. You’re doing a noble thing. Keep it that way.” He leaves me alone with my thoughts and regrets. I wish I knew what Cash was thinking. Does he hate me? He must think so low of me. I almost got him killed. I cup my face, shedding tears I didn’t even think I still had in me. There’s a knock on the door, and when I lift my head, I’m surprised to see Beckett walk in.
My bloodshot eyes widen at his appearance. “How—How did you get in here?”
“I may have told them I was your lawyer.” He takes the seat across from me, concern plastered across his face. “You okay, kid?” he asks, and I wonder if
he really gives a shit. He probably wants to tell me off and wish me a fantastic time in jail for the next six to eight years.
“Fine. How’s Cash?” I ask about the only thing that matters.
“He’s in about as good of shape as you are. Have you seen a doctor? You don’t look good.”
“Yeah…well, I didn’t know I was expecting guests.” I need him to get out what he has to say. I know it’s going to hurt. I’m sure he’s going to tell me to never contact him again, a clear message from Cash.
“Agent Prescott told me what you did. How you worked in a deal to keep Cash’s name out of this.”
“He has nothing to do with my shit. He shouldn’t get brought into it because of me.”
He nods, agreeing. Great. “He said he’s taking you back to Ohio.”
“Yep. Got some explaining to do there.” Why am I making a joke out of this when all I want to do is cry?
He wipes his hands down his face, but there’s still distress evident in his eyes. “Cash is going to rip apart that hospital once he finds out you won’t be here when he’s released.”
That catches my attention. “What?”
“He’s pretty tightlipped right now, refusing to speak to anyone until he hears what’s going on with you, which tells me he’s trying to do the same for you. He sent me here to get some answers. And to make sure you’re okay.”
Fuck. I’m not okay. I need him so bad. I crush my eyes shut to stop more tears. “I never wanted him to get involved in my bullshit. It was never my plan to even let him in. But he pried every layer of me back until he was so deep inside me, even I forgot what a fuck up I’d become. I wanted to believe I could be this honest, loyal person he made me out to be. But during that, I was blindsided by the actual truth. And it’s something I couldn’t hide from. I never meant for him to get involved.”
Beckett doesn’t say anything right away, and I wonder if I’m wasting my breath trying to explain myself.
“Luna, I’ve known Cash since he was a kid. I’ve watched him chase the impossible. I’ve seen him win, and I’ve seen him lose. I don’t know what’s right or wrong in this situation. I’m not him, and I’m not you. But what I do know is there’s something between you that only you two can explain. Cash has always been difficult. He doesn’t follow direction well, and frankly, he’s got a big head. But since you showed up, there’s been a shift in him. It’s a side of him no one’s truly seen since Luke died. You gave that back to him. And for that, I thank you. I don’t know what happens from here with you two, but what you’re doing just shows you’re in the same boat as him. You care about each other to want what’s best.”
Junkie: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Page 21