He recalled how the eagerness had faded from her eyes, how disappointed she had been with his response. Words had clumsily fallen from Isaac’s mouth as he attempted to bring a smile to her lips once more, but he had failed. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him, how badly he wanted to protect her, get her out of a criminal life, but her stubbornness fueled her desire to please Vance. Since that night, Isaac had been trying to figure out a way to not only stop her from going through with her suicidal plan to take down Grim from the inside, but to get himself out of Vance’s control in the process. Hopefully I can do so without either of us being slaughtered.
“Isaac?” The girl was frowning at him.
“Sounds like a hell of a workload.” He sipped at his wine again.
“It’s not so bad. I get A’s on most papers, and the tests are mostly just writing fresh poems. Once I graduate, I’ll be able to focus on getting published.”
“That’s exciting.” Isaac’s eyes flicked first around the empty bar, with only an elderly man wiping down a few glasses with a damp rag in sight, then he glanced over toward the entrance. The “open” sign was turned off, its normally garish neon red letters currently dark and devoid of the faint buzz. His stomach churned a fraction, and he looked back at the girl.
“You hungry? I know a fantastic Indian place downtown.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Indian? Not a fan.”
Isaac silently cursed himself. She doesn’t like Indian food, Emma does. “Well, what about that pizza place over on Fifth? They have fantastic salads.” He tried not to cringe when he said it, but the girl lit up.
“Flannary’s? I love their food.”
“Awesome.” Isaac stood, and she followed suit. “Maybe after we can go out for another glass of wine. If you’re still free, that is.” He picked up his black gym bag and hefted it onto his shoulder.
“Sounds like a date,” she said, and looped her arm through his, leading him toward the back of the building.
The bartender looked up as they passed. When Isaac’s gaze met his, the man’s eyes narrowed, and he looked away. Isaac swallowed and looked forward again, aware he completely missed what the girl had said.
“What’s that?”
“I said, I’m not feeling the love in here, anyway,” she recounted in a lowered voice, eyes avoiding the bartender.
“Even with me here?” He blinked his eyes in mock innocence.
“Well.” She winked. “I’d prefer it if it were only you around.”
Isaac grinned. They exited the bar and stepped into the dying afternoon light.
“Jeez, no one’s out here.” Isaac’s eyes shifted across their surroundings. He glanced around the empty lot, tall buildings surrounding them as they approached the only car nearby. Movement caught his eye. He looked up to see a tow truck angled across the one-way street before them, its orange lights flashing. He nodded at the operator, who was setting up cones alongside his vehicle, cutting off traffic as he prepared to move an abandoned car with multiple white slips underneath the wipers. The man was the only other soul in sight.
“It’s still early,” she said, clearly undisturbed. She led him to her car, a cobalt blue Mercedes-Benz convertible.
“Holy...this is yours?” Isaac momentarily forgot his nerves and let out a low whistle. “What year is it?”
“It’s an ‘85. It was my dad’s. He kept it in pristine condition, barely drove it the entire time he owned it.” Pride was evident in her voice.
“I can’t believe it’s still running. Do you think I could drive it?”
“He put a lot of money into it for me,” she said, and frowned at Isaac.
“Don’t worry.” He laughed and set his gym bag on the pavement of the lot. “I absolutely love old cars like this, and have a lot of respect for other people’s vehicles. See?” Isaac pulled a pair of black leather driving gloves out of the side pocket of his bag. “I even have gloves so I don’t smudge the wheel.” He grinned and slid them on, then wiggled his fingers in her direction.
“Okay, okay,” she said and tossed her hair once more.
“Sweet,” Isaac exclaimed with a grin. “Can we throw my gym bag in your trunk? And can we ride with the top down?” His excitement caused her to laugh.
“No problem.” The girl pulled out her keys and opened her trunk. “Why do you carry driving gloves around if you don’t have a ca—” Her sentence was cut short, her words halting with an unexpected abruptness. She raised a hand to her throat just as Isaac withdrew the blade of his Cryo knife. Hot maroon blood coursed down the front of her shirt.
“What...” She tried to speak once, then twice, but Isaac stabbed her in the neck again, silencing her. He felt the sharp edge of his knife grate against her spine as the blade passed through her throat, causing a lump to rise in his throat. You can do this, you can do this, almost done, just don’t think about what’s happening.
The girl’s body shuddered and tipped forward. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and guided her down slowly. He kept her tilted forward so the majority of her blood pooled into the car. He held her like that until she stopped moving entirely and fell limp.
Isaac choked back bile as he wrestled her limp cadaver into the open trunk. He shoved her legs in last, curling them against her body so she fit inside. He paused and stared down at her wide, unmoving eyes that only moments before had been gazing at him, full of life. He took several deep breaths, mind focused on Lenny, the man who had most recently tried to leave Vance’s employ. Isaac still had flashes of Lenny’s destroyed face trying to babble as Alex broke his leg with a hammer.
“I’m so sorry,” Isaac told the dead girl. He hesitated a moment longer, then inhaled, shoved his fearful thoughts aside, and turned. The tow truck driver was watching him. Isaac nodded in his direction. The man gave him a thumbs up and began to load the bright orange cones back into his vehicle. Isaac bent over the trunk and poked his gloved index finger into the pool of blood that surrounded the girl’s body. He swirled it around, then moved to the front of the car. Stretching forward, he wrote P-A-Y U-P on the windshield in large, gruesome, crimson letters. Job complete, he threw the girl’s keys next to her body, snapped the trunk shut, and peeled off his black gloves, which he stuffed back into his gym bag. Isaac nodded once more at the tow truck driver. He picked his bag off the ground and went through the back entrance of the bar once more.
“Took long enough.” The bartender’s voice was rough. “She was cute.”
“Well, her daddy shouldn’t have stolen from Vance.” Isaac forced toughness into his words. “Then skipped town and left his beloved daughter behind thinking we wouldn’t find her. He underestimated our boss.” He reached into his bag with one hand. When he withdrew it, two small, rubber-banded wads of cash came with it. “One’s for you, one’s for Dave out there.” He set the money on the bar and stared at the old man with cold eyes. “And Syrus? If you were wrong before, and I find out there are cameras around here, money’s not the only thing you’ll be losing. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it,” the old bartender said. “I did my homework, don’t worry. Just like you did. Speaking of, I can’t believe you ordered the merlot. How was it?”
Isaac laughed. “Awful.”
“What was worse, the merlot or listening to her talk about herself the whole time?”
“Oh jeez.” Isaac leaned against the bar with one hand and scratched his clean shaven jaw with the other. “The merlot,” he concluded with a grin. “Although researching classical music was actually pretty calming.”
“Well, it worked out. You did a good job.”
I had no choice. He smiled at the praise, but his mind was fluttering through thoughts of Lenny again, as well as his crushing desire to find Emma and flee the West coast.
—-
Redborough’s district attorney, Dean Slatter, grinned at Emma and raised his glass. The clink it made as he touched it to hers resonated through his lavish dining room.
“I’
m so glad you were able to slip away and have dinner with me,” he said.
She faked a blush, turning her face down slightly and gazing at him through her eyelashes. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Did you enjoy your meal?”
“It was wonderful. The salmon was delicious.”
“Just like you.” Slatter winked.
Emma hid a smile behind her hand and giggled.
“So this Alex you want me to meet. He’s Vance’s, what, personal assistant?”
“You could say that.”
“Why can’t I just talk to Vance himself if he’s the one who wants me on his payroll?”
“He’d love to, but the man is busy. Even I don’t report directly to him. Have to go through Alex.”
“I see.” Dean shifted closer to her. “Are you sure the figure you told me is what they guarantee? I wouldn’t be very happy if I was given anything less.”
“I am. Don’t worry, Dean. We don’t want to screw you over, we just want to work with you. Besides.” She winked at him. “I’ll even be the one delivering your monthly cut. We can have dinners like this all the time.”
Emma could almost feel the man’s eyes as they trailed down her sensually dressed form. Disgust threatened to leap to her throat, but her smile remained. This has to be the last time I do this. I’m so sick of creepy old men staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.
“Well then.” Dean wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and pushed back his chair. “Let Alex know I’m interested. When can we meet?”
“He will set up the details, and I’ll give you a call once I know. Until then, I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere.” She stood carefully from his dining room table.
He frowned. “So soon?”
“Unfortunately. But you’ll see me again, don’t worry.” She let him escort her through his home and to the front door where he lifted her face and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.
“I look forward to our next encounter,” he said.
Emma stepped out of his home. She blew him a kiss before making her way to her vehicle, where she scrubbed at her face once she was out of his view. While inside, a burst of inspiration had struck her when she’d glanced a portrait of the DA’s family, and her fingers itched with the urge to put pencil to paper and sketch until what was in her memory lay in front of her.
Turning her key in the ignition, she checked her phone before leaving.
A single message from Grant awaited: We found a rat. Get to the depot ASAP. A glance told her it had been sent a little over twenty minutes ago. Eager for the new development, the passion to draw subdued, she drove slightly above the speed limit toward the rail depot on the south side of town.
As the street hummed beneath the tires, her mind drifted to her passionate encounter with Alex. She hadn’t heard from him since then, nor had she attempted to contact him, but had checked her phone often, still hoping he’d want to hook up again. The more I get him to like me, the more of a chance I’ll have. When her mind recalled how he had felt inside of her, she felt warmth flood her face, and she forced herself to focus on the road.
Emma parked near Grant’s unmarked sedan at the depot and hurried around the back of the building where Nate, one of Vance’s trusted guards and Alex’s personal driver, waited by a closed door.
“Hey,” she said as she approached.
“Miss.” He nodded in her direction. “They’re inside, questioning him.” He opened the door.
Emma could hear sounds of a struggle from inside. She thanked Nate and stepped toward the clamor.
“We will ask one more time,” Vance was saying as she entered the room. His thick-fingered hands were clasped behind his brawny frame as he paced, his pale blue eyes locked onto Henry. Vance’s thick, grey hair was swept back from his face in trim waves, and his wide face was a mask of barely controlled rage. Emma took in the faded outlines of tattoos on his forearms. She stopped next to Grant, who eyed her cleavage. Ignoring him, she nodded at Marcus, then trained her eyes on Henry.
Emma’s stomach clenched at the sight of the man’s broken face. His front teeth and nose were obviously shattered. Thick, copper-scented blood poured from his ruined features and dripped along the front of his writhing body. Alex stood above him, suit coat removed, sleeves rolled, forearms stained with blood. He had used Grant’s handcuffs to restrain Henry to a wooden chair. At the moment, he was in the process of bending one of Henry’s fingers back at a painful angle. She noted Alex’s bloody knuckles, split open in places on his right hand. Emma looked away.
“Who is Grim?”
“I...I don...don’ know!” Henry said, his voice thick, his words difficult to understand. Sweat gleamed over his face, and his eyes stared past Alex, distant and full of pain.
Vance nodded at his right hand man, and Alex deftly snapped Henry’s finger.
Emma took a step away from the scene as a howl of fresh agony ripped through the room. She swallowed, and Isaac’s words jumped to the front her mind: This isn’t the life you should be living.
Her mind conjured a flashback of her mother’s bloodied face as she was dragged into another room, away from seven-year-old Emma. The last words ever uttered had stayed with her for the past twenty-two years: “Never displease Vance. Don’t become like me.”
She took another step back when her employer glanced up.
“Ah, Emma my dear. Please, come closer.”
Unwanted trembles coursed through her fingers, but she flexed them and walked up to Vance.
“You have done good work so far,” he said. “Having Grant search homes first was smart. I like smart.”
“Thank you, sir.” Pride flowed into her chest, and she risked a glance at Alex, who was watching her with a blank expression.
“How did your meeting with the DA go?”
She heard Grant snort at the word “meeting.”
“He wants to move forward with Alex.”
A small smile moved Vance’s lips. “Good, good.” Vance turned to his left, addressing his assistant. “Make the arrangements with Emma later. Keep going here, Alex. I need to speak with her alone for a moment.”
An uncomfortable look flicked across Alex’s face before he turned back toward Henry.
Emma let Vance lead her away from the torture, relief mixing with curiosity.
“We have extracted little information from Henry himself,” he said once they were out of earshot of the others. “However, the kakashka left a list of people he was working with, a nice little sheet with names of those against me. I will have Grant, Marcus and Alex working on eliminating them, but the one that poisoned me I am giving to you.” His pale eyes bored into her. “I want this one alive so we can infiltrate her life, relaxed and unafraid so information is easily given up. You can do this, no?”
“Of course. I would love to.”
“I am happy to hear. You have proven to me over time you are a valuable asset. Accomplish this, find out who she is working with, find out how Grim is involved, and anything else you can discover, and a better position awaits you.”
Emma’s eyes lit up at his promise. She told him what she often told her mother’s memory: “I won’t fail you.”
Vance nodded once. “I have a feeling you will not. Accompany Alex to the meeting with the DA and finish your job with him. Once we have him under our wing, I want your primary focus to be infiltrating this Cassie and her group of friends.” He smiled. “Once we have what we want, we will show them what happens when they fuck with us.”
Part Two - Control
Chapter Five
Shawn stared around his dark basement, grinning behind the Grim mask. He had cut the lights twenty minutes ago, shrouding the area in inky blackness to test the minute changes his brother had added to the lenses. The only source of light was a bright glow from Jaxon’s laptop.
“The night vision is much crisper. Well done, man.”
He watched Jaxon stretch and rub his eyes. “Good. And the infrared?”
&nb
sp; Reaching up, Shawn switched views. “I can see different shades of reds and orange now instead of just a blurry mess. Love it.”
“Fantastic. Can we turn the lights back on now? My head is killing me, and I just lost track of my beer.”
“Yeah, yeah, hold on.” As Shawn walked up to his brother, he stifled the urge to sigh. Jaxon practically had his nose glued to the screen of his cell phone. “Cassie on her way?”
“Yeah. She’s late, though.”
Shawn tugged off his dark, studded gloves and tossed them next to his brother. “I’m sure she’s fine.” He leaned against the table and watched his brother take a pull off of his beer. “You guys enjoying living together? All nice and cozy in your place?”
Jaxon looked up, then snickered. “You look like a creep whenever you wear the mask with street clothes.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I like to see. Did you figure out the code?”
“Not yet. I’ll need more time, but my eyes are about to fall out.”
Shawn chuckled. “Okay, okay, you’re dismissed, peasant.” He waved his hand.
“Oh, however can I thank you?” Jaxon rolled his eyes. “Light, maybe? So I don’t die trying to get out of here?”
“God, you’re such a baby.” Shawn easily maneuvered through the darkness to the wall and flipped a switch. “I guess sometimes being blind has its perks, huh?”
Jaxon squinted at the sudden light. “Great, I’ll call you the next time I’m stuck in a dark room.” He swiveled on the stool, silent for a moment.
Shawn pulled the mask over his head, his shaggy hair falling along his temples. He ran his thumb over the fabric, across the jagged vertical slits that made up the mouth, then up to the smoothness of one of the oversized lenses. Sleekness turned to a brittle, ragged feel as he trailed his touch over one of the paint marks that formed a large, white X over the mask’s eye sockets. “We should repaint this. Feels like it’s chipped away in places.”
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