by S. Ann Cole
I stand and pull out my cellphone as I move to the door. “Emailing my accountant. Expect payment within the hour.”
“Very well. I’ll release the little liar once the payment is received.”
“Unharmed.”
He tsked. “You only negotiated for life, not unscathed life. Now, if you would like to renegotiate, then—”
“You’re an animal,” I say before I wrench the door open and walk out.
“It was nice doing business with you, cousin dearest,” he calls after me.
Chapter SIX
“Damn right I did.”
Lexi
Slim: I heard that you and Ellie are in trouble with the Castellos. Is it true?
Slim: I can help. Let us work something out.
I toss my phone down with a snort and continue pacing the small living room, wired with agitation. Taking any kind of help from Slim would be like selling my soul. I’ve witnessed him trap enough unlucky bastards to know better. He’s not an evil man, but he’s also not as nice as and “caring” as he likes to make people believe he is. He artfully ensnares, and I’d be stupid to walk back into that den.
The kettle bursts into a whistle and I damn near jump out of my skin. I’m so on edge I might start bleeding from psychological lacerations. It’s the reason I decided to make myself a cup of chamomile tea in the first place. I pad over to the stove and switch it off then pour steaming hot water into the waiting mug on the counter with a ready teabag inside.
Leaving it to steep, I start pacing again. I haven’t been able to relax since Trent dropped me off. To be honest, I’m not too confident. Trent and his brothers have some strong connections and are well-respected through and through on this side of the world, but what kind of pull could he have with people like Stefano Castello? Men who break into women’s apartments to extort and threaten them. Men whom he claims wouldn’t have let Ellie go as promised, but instead “make an example” out of her. Those are bad, bad people. And while the Garzas are many things, they aren’t violent criminals. Badasses, sure, but not bad men.
They are the good kind of bad.
I’m startled once again when a heavy knock sounds at the door. I dart to it and check the peephole. Seeing Trent on the other side, I jerk the door open and all but pounce on him.
“Did you talk to him? What did he say? Is Ellie okay? Did they hurt her?”
“Whoa. Jesus.” Trent jerks back like I’ve assaulted him. “Wanna let me in first?”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I nervously scratch the back of my neck and step aside for him to enter. Only then do I notice he’s holding two containers of fruit salad. He walks over to the two-seater and sets them down. “Come sit. Eat.”
“Why is everyone always trying to feed me?” I grumble as I move to the table. “Do I look emaciated or something?”
“I brought you lunch because I figured you’d be here feeding yourself anxiety instead of food.” He drags his gaze over me as he lowers into the chair. “I can see I was right.”
“You’re wrong,” I say as I sit down. “I made tea.”
He glances over to the kitchen counter where the mug of untouched tea sits. “That tea?”
“Oh, shut up.” I kick his foot under the table. “Tell me. What happened?”
Using two fingers, he nudges one of the containers with a plastic fork to me. “Eat.”
Oh, for shit’s sake. I grab the container, pop it open, unwrap the plastic fork, then stab a piece of pineapple and shove it into my mouth. “Hhmmmmyum. So delicious.” I pierce a piece of cantaloupe along with a slice of strawberry and stuff them into my mouth as well. “Ohhhyummy yum yum. So filling.”
His lips twitch as he opens his container and slowly unwraps the fork. “Yes, I spoke to him.”
“And what did he say? What—”
“Keep eating. You stop eating, I stop talking.”
“I thought time would have changed you from being a browbeating jerk,” I say, shaking my head. “But nope, you’re still irritating.”
He pointedly looks at my fruit salad and arches a brow.
“Okay, okay, I’m eating!” I swear he’s the same Trenton. The exact same. Manipulative and unapologetic about it. Time has done nothing to soften his edges.
“He’s not dropping the debt.”
Shit. As much as I didn’t expect a miracle, I still held out hope. My mind immediately begins running a million thoughts a second, and no matter which route I channel those thoughts of “maybes” and “what ifs”, all roads lead to selling my soul to Slim.
“Given the timeframe,” Trent continues, pulling me from my racing thoughts, “unless you’re prepared to get in bed with a loan shark, you’re not gonna secure that money quickly enough. Even if you had gotten away with that necklace today, you wouldn’t have been able to fence it right away.” He forks a grape into his mouth. “So, I’m thinking I could loan you the cash, and see to it that your friend gets out safe.”
At that, my head snaps up. “What?”
“If I pay the 92k, you’ll owe me instead of him.”
I blink at him. Granted, the Garzas weren’t poor growing up, but there weren’t rich either. And sure, Red Cage Investigations is creme of the crop and is no doubt pulling in some good profits, but ninety-two thousand dollars is still a lot of dough to just lend out. Does he really have that kind of money just lying around?
Funny, because a few years ago, that’s the kind of money I’d make in a weekend of counting. Now it feels like a million dollars.
That said, when I think about who I’d rather owe—him, someone I know and somewhat trust, or a bunch of criminals, it’s a no-brainer.
“What would I owe you?”
“We can talk about that later.” Another piece of fruit goes into his mouth. “But it includes you going home.”
And there’s the catch. Sonofabitch buried the lead. I sit back and cross my arms. “You fucker.”
He shrugs, unphased. “What I’ll need you to do as repayment is in L.A., not here.”
“Can’t you think of something that doesn’t include me having to move back?” I ask. “I have nothing. I can’t move back like this. It’s…it’s embarrassing.”
“It’s life,” he says. “You’ve got a lot to be proud of. You took care of your mom when no one else would, cleared her medical bills, paid off her mortgage, and bought her a restaurant. With cash. You did that. I don’t understand what you’re hiding from.”
“Seriously? You know all this—See, this is why I don’t like you guys. You’re all up in everyone’s business all the time. No privacy.”
He chuckles. “I actually know all of this because your mother brags about you to everyone she talks to.”
I frown. “Really?”
He shakes his head at me. “That’s the deal, Lexi. Should I go back to Stefano or not?”
Idly, I fork around the fruits. “I have twenty-two hundred dollars to my name, Trent. I can’t afford a place and I’m not gonna stay at home. There are too many people stuffed in that small house.”
“We’ll work something out.”
I lean forward and narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not living with you, and I will not pay off my debt by being your sex slave. So if that’s your plan, then no deal.”
He makes a face at me. “I’d be out of my mind to let you anywhere near my house or my balls.” He jabs his fork in my direction. “You still owe me a pair of Jordan’s, by the way.”
Laughter bursts from me. “I said I was sorry! I thought they were Torin’s.”
God, I’m embarrassed of how psycho young Lexi was. Yup, I’d set a brand-new pair of Jordan’s on fire after Torin and I had an argument over I can’t remember what. Only to find out afterward that the Jordans were Trent’s. When he got home and found his roasted sneakers, he was livid. He didn’t talk to me for about a month, no matter how much I apologized.
“Right,” he mumbles sarcastically. “Listen, the priority right now is getting you out of this pit
with Stefano and saving this Ellie person. We’ll talk about L.A. in L.A.”
“You’re sure he’ll let Ellie go if we pay?”
“If I’m the dealing with him, yeah.”
Feeling both relieved and exhausted, I breathe out a heavy breath. “Okay. Okay…let’s do it.”
“I’ll go work this out.” He jerks his chin at my fruit salad. “Finish up then start packing. We’re leaving tonight.”
“But what about Ellie? I can’t just abandon her.”
“Not my problem.”
“I can’t be a jerk and just leave her here, Trent.”
“You’re putting yourself in debt to save her life, Lexi. What the fuck? Doubt she’d have done the same for you. I won’t give a shit about her after this. I care about you.” He covers his half-empty container and stands. “To be honest, if she comes out of this and doesn’t want to pack up and run back home, then she deserves whatever shit she finds herself in next.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Thanks.” He digs his phone from his pocket and begins swiping and typing. “Pack your shit, Lexi. Be ready to go when I get back.”
As he walks out of the apartment, I stick up both of my middle fingers and shake them at his back. Oh, how I love to hate the Garzas.
I’m picking at my fruit salad when my phone pings.
Trent: You flipped me off when I wasn’t looking, didn’t you?
Me: Damn right I did.
Trent: You’re losing your edge. The old you would have done it to my face.
Me: You’re about to save my ass. I know how to choose my battles.
Me: See, I’ve grown. You’re still the same.
Trent: Trust me, Lexi. I’m so fucking GROWN you can’t even imagine…
I drop my phone.
Chapter SEVEN
“How angelic of you.”
Lexi
It’s dark outside when a knock finally comes at my door again. I swing it open to a bruised and disheveled Ellie. Her pale blue eyes are red and puffy, her cheekbone darkened from a nasty shiner, black and blue bruises scattered over her arms and legs.
I throw myself at her. “Oh, thank God! You’re here, you’re out. Thank goodness.”
She hugs me back, sobbing into my neck. “I thought…I thought they were going to kill me.”
“No, babe. You’re safe now. It’s fine. I took care of it.”
She draws back to look at me. “How? Where did you get the money?”
I lift one shoulder then let it fall. “An old friend helped.”
“The one who brought me here?”
I nod and comb my fingers through her matted hair. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Come, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”
I help her to the couch then put the kettle on.
“I don’t think your old friend likes me very much,” Ellie says, examining one of the bruises on her thigh. “He was so serious I thought he was taking me to kill me.”
“Oh, don’t mind him. It’s not you. He’s just an asshole, period,” I tell her. “Where is he anyway?”
“He said to tell you he would be back in half an hour.”
I grab some ingredients from the fridge to fix her a sandwich. “So, you know how I said he helped me with this?” I say. “That, uh, came with some strings.”
She pulls her feet up on the couch. “What kind of strings?”
I rest my hip against the counter so I can see her as I make the sandwich. “It includes me moving back home.”
Her chest rises and falls, almost as if in relief. “Oh.”
My eyebrows pull together. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
I point the knife I’m holding at her. “That look of relief you’re wearing like a fucking hazmat suit.”
“Well…” she bites her lip, looking chagrin.
“Well, what?”
“I kinda want to go back with Slim,” she blurts. “I’ve wanted to for a while now but I didn’t know how to broach it with you because I know how you feel about working with him.”
“Ellie, Jesus, he’s a dirtbag.”
“Yeah, I know, but we still make money with him. And look what happened to me. This would have never happened if we were with him. This is the kind of stuff he protects us from. Is seventy-thirty unfair? Yes. But at least we never experienced anything like this. He removes the danger and makes it fun, and to me, I think that’s worth it.” She shakes her head and emits a whiny noise. “Honestly, Lexi, I really fucking hate being broke. It sucks.”
If she had followed my instructions and kept her head down, none of this would have even happened to begin with. I’m in debt because she blatantly disregarded everything I told her, then lied when she was caught, dragging me right into hell with her.
I stare at her, burning with indignation, but bite my tongue. Doesn’t make sense blowing up at her at this point. It is what it is. She’s out from the clutches of the Castellos, alive and well, and that’s all that matters. Whatever she chooses to do after this is on her.
This is quite clearly the end of our relationship anyway. I can’t ever trust someone who would deliberately put my life in danger.
“I just want to make and save enough to go back home and start a business, you know?” she continues. “I want to open a spa.”
The kettle starts whistling and I switch it off. “That’s nice,” I say. But I’m done caring. A thought niggles at the back of my mind that maybe she did this on purpose, as a harebrained way of getting me to turn to Slim for help so we’d be forced to go back to working with him. But I honestly don’t want to believe she’s that dumb, so I push the thought away.
When I’m done with the sandwich and tea, I take them to the table.
She winces as she makes her way over. I don’t know Ellie’s reason for counting cards. She has never been open about her life. Most of us who worked with Slim had a reason—debt, college tuition, medical bills, or just plain greed. We’d all talked about our “whys” at some point or another, but never Ellie. She’s always been secretive and private and camera shy when it came to social media, opting for shots where she wasn’t looking at the camera.
It’s never bothered me before, but for some reason, it does now. Because as I watch her sit and take a bite of the sandwich, I realize that even though I’ve spent the last few years with her, living together, eating together, sleeping together, I do not know who this girl is. It’s a startling realization, to say the least.
That said, the guilt I felt about leaving her earlier is no longer there.
Instead, all I feel right now, surprisingly, is relief.
~
By the time Trent returns, I’ve fed Ellie, helped her with a bath, and given her pain meds. As disappointed as I am in her, I chose compassion. There’s no way I could just leave her to her own devices while she’s this bruised and battered, so I called Slim on her behalf and he agreed to come get her in the morning.
As Trent walks in, picks up my overstuffed suitcase like it weighs nothing, and walks out with it, Ellie whispers, “Just saying, now that I know he’s not here to kill me, your friend is really hot. Like out-of-this-world hot.”
“Is he?” I retort. “I might have noticed if I wasn’t blinded by the fact that I owe him damn near a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Will he take payment in sex?” she asks, biting her lip. “Because I wouldn’t mind making those payments.”
I roll my eyes. “Go sit your horny ass down and get some rest.” I pull up the handle of my suitcase. “I’ll text you when I get to L.A.”
As I start to leave, she lurches and throws her arms around me. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” I hug her back. “Just…just be careful with Slim, okay?”
“I will.”
Trent’s presence shadows the doorway just then. He gestures for me to give him my suitcase.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, “I can take it down.”
<
br /> He ignores me and pries the handle from my grasp. Then he looks to Ellie. “You good? You got cash?”
“I-um—I think I—Just a li—”
Visibly impatient, he gets out his wallet, plucks out several hundred-dollar bills and thrust them toward her.
Um, what? I could use that eight hundred dollars! Who’s the one in debt here?
As Ellie shuffles forward and takes the cash, he tells her, “Make good choices.”
And then he all but drags me out of there.
~
“Ellie said you were cold toward her,” I say once we’ve left the apartment complex and are out in Vegas’s night traffic.
“So?”
“So, she was coming out of being held hostage and abused, the least you could have done was show her a kind face.”
“Did she thank you?” he asks.
“What?”
“Did she thank you for getting her out?”
“Ye—” I stop and think back on our conversations from the moment she walked through the door. I’m not sure how I didn’t realize it until now, but…no, she didn’t thank me. Not once.
“She might be your friend, Lexi, but you’re not hers,” Trent says when I stumble over answering. “I know her kind. She’ll hang you out to dry and leave you for the dogs. Definitely not the kind of person you should be pulling these kinds of stunts with. When someone shows you they’ll intentionally put your life in danger to save theirs, you chop them off at the head and never look back.”
“Okay…” I chew on my lip. “I mean, she has her flaws, but she’s not a bad person.”
“She’s not a good person either.”
And I’m clearly a terrible judge of character. “If you believe that, why did you just give her eight hundred dollars?”
He tosses me a quick glance. “Didn’t say I’m a bad person. I’m a fucking angel. A beautiful cherub.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemy.” I yawn and arch my back into a stretch. “Are we driving back?”