The slam of the door ended their conversation for me, and I waited only a few seconds before coming out. I shoved the letters into my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I made a move toward the door. I was acting without thinking. What I was about to do was stupid—careless—but while Sebastian was hell-bent on protecting me, I had to be the one to protect him.
I WOKE BEFORE ROSSLYN WITH a newfound purpose. We were going to have a baby. We were going to be a family and no one—no one—was going to threaten that. I didn’t give a fuck who I had to kill, but someone was going to pay for the threats placed against her.
I left her sleeping peacefully in bed as I climbed out careful not to wake her. Her hand was resting on her belly protectively, and it warmed my heart. Things were going to change from this point on, and I welcomed that change. I hadn’t expressed how excited I was over our new baby, but once everything settled, Rosslyn would know just how much joy and happiness she’d given me with those two simple words.
I’m pregnant.
Leaning over her, I placed my lips against her belly then kissed her on the forehead. She had sighed sweetly in her sleep before turning on her side away from me.
I called Mac on my way out of the condo to make sure he was at his post, watching Rosslyn like a hawk, and then I jumped in my Jag and made my way to my office. I needed to inspect the letters. I’d missed something. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I’d definitely missed something. I had a fresh purpose now—fresh eyes—and I was going to devour those letters until something—anything—popped out at me.
The club was quiet in the early morning hours, the place clean and ready for the following night thanks to my damn good employees. I took the steps to my office two at a time, and when I got inside, I went straight to the hiding place where I kept the letters.
My eyes scanned each letter carefully, the words mixing in my mind like a puzzle, until something stuck out at me.
That sentence moved over my brain.
I’d taken life. Twice, actually. I was responsible for the lives of Rosslyn’s parents, but no one from her past would be returning for revenge. Not to mention, only a select few people even I knew I was in the room and that was Rosslyn and me. The rest of the ones who knew were dead.
Vick.
Vick knew, but she was gone. Dead. And while Rosslyn had pulled the trigger, I also considered myself responsible for her death.
The letter was referring to Vick’s life. The more I thought about it, the more that made sense.
Things were slowly coming together—the puzzle pieces fitting as I continued to scan the letters repeatedly for more clues.
Vick.
The Boogeyman.
Vick.
What did those two have in common?
And then it hit me like a bolt of lightning and memories of my past came crashing over me.
“Come the fuck on, Sebastian,” Vick whispered as she disappeared over the side of the fence.
She was faster than I was, but still clumsy, which was why I never let her do jobs by herself. She wasn’t ready, even if she thought she was.
I lifted myself up over the fence and fell to my feet beside her.
“You’re getting slow.” She grinned over at me.
“Fuck you,” I said, standing up and dusting off the knees of my pants. “Let’s get this shit over with. I told Anthony we’d be back in two hours.”
Memories of Anthony, one of the biggest drug dealers on the streets, moved over me in waves. I’d worked for Anthony growing up. I’d stole for him. Sold drugs for him. And he’d always made sure Vick and I were taken care of as best as possible.
He ran the streets in my old neck of the woods, and people feared him. Everyone except Vick and me. I looked up to him, but Vick just used his love for her to get whatever she wanted out of him.
Another memory moved over me.
“Be careful who you try to steal from, fuck face,” I growled, pressing the gun deep into the man’s temple. “I should kill you, but I’m going to let you go because I know this isn’t your corner. Get your ass where you belong or I’ll have Anthony blow your fucking head off. Got it?”
They kept coming to me, one after another.
“Who’s Anthony?” Rosslyn asked after we’d almost been mugged.
“Just a guy I used to know,” I answered.
But did I really know Anthony?
Sure, he’d helped me out on the streets, but he was just another common criminal—another person out for himself.
I knew things about him. Things like he was seven years older than I was. He lived on the streets growing up and built his crappy empire from nothing. He was a foster kid like Vick and me, which was why he’d always helped us out. Also, he was crazy about Vick, another reason why he was so willing to help us out.
But the biggest thing of all that I knew about Anthony was his intimidation strategies. I’d seen him place a gun to someone’s head many times and he’d always say the same fucking thing.
I’m your worst nightmare. Just call me the boogeyman.
It was Anthony.
He was the one behind the letters.
A life for a life.
He was blaming me for Vick’s death.
Took him long enough.
But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I found him and put a stop to his bullshit. And the only way I was going to do that was to go back to where I’d come from.
The streets.
“PULL OVER HERE,” I SAID to the cab driver.
There was no way Mac would have gone along with my plan, and since I had yet to get my Honda back, a taxicab would have to suffice.
The driver slowed and parked behind Sebastian’s Jag. My eyes scanned the area, but Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned to see Sebastian walking down a long alleyway to my right.
I hesitated to get out, my fingers turning white from gripping the door handle. The entire area looked abandoned and shady. Broken black asphalt shined from the recent rain and trash littered the ground. I didn’t know what he was doing in such a place, but I was about to find out.
My eyes lingered on Sebastian’s back until he disappeared into a building. The metal siding on the building was rusted—broken pieces hung from the roof that looked ready to fall and impale the next passerby.
He was going inside alone. There was no telling who or what awaited him inside that building. Swallowing my nerves, I ran my fingers through my hair as I waited for him to come back outside. The window was down. The wretched smell of body odor and trash filled my nostrils. I silently wished I could breathe some fresh air.
I dug through my bag in search of my phone. I was useless when it came to helping Sebastian if he needed it, but at least I could call for help. My fingers brushed my gun and relief filled me. I’d tucked it inside before leaving the condo.
Then my fingers caught the edges of the white envelopes I’d stuffed inside before leaving Sebastian’s office. I pulled them from my bag. There were at least twenty of them—all addressed to Sebastian and all with the same jagged handwriting.
I started from the bottom and worked my way up the stack. With each letter, the unsettled feeling inside me grew. My stomach tightened in knots and the nausea that I’d been keeping at bay rolled around in my center—hot and disgusting.
Why had Sebastian kept this from me?
It didn’t make any sense, but then again, it did. Sebastian was always trying to keep me safe—always trying to keep me worry-free. Meanwhile, he took the brunt of everything—carrying the stress of three people around on his wide shoulders. I loved him for it, but it wasn’t working. He was going to make himself crazy.
My eyes scanned the next letter in the stack. The paper was more worn than the others were, as if Sebastian had read it repeatedly—folding and unfolding each time. When I reached the part of the letter telling Sebastian to leave me alone, it all made sense. This sick bastard, whoever he was, was the re
ason the last few weeks had been unbearable. He was the reason Sebastian had been so cruel. He was protecting me—pushing me away to keep me safe.
The meter was running, the cab driver slowly falling asleep in the driver’s seat, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t move—not until I knew Sebastian was okay—not until I knew what in the hell was going on. Instead, I continued to read the letters repeatedly—searching for clues that I knew I wouldn’t understand.
I didn’t know who the bastard was who wrote the letters, and I was sure Sebastian didn’t know either, but judging by the last letter, it sounded like he knew Sebastian.
It meant something personal to this guy, and he was hell-bent on making sure Sebastian was going to pay for whatever sin he was blaming him for. It made me fearful of what this guy possibly had planned for Sebastian, and from the sound of his letters, me too.
The only comfort I got out of the letters was that Sebastian did and always had loved me. He pushed me away because he thought he was doing what was best. He was trying to protect me. I understood that now. Even if I didn’t agree with the way he went about it, I knew it was Sebastian’s way of dealing with things. After everything that had happened with my parents, he wasn’t going to risk losing me too.
I just wished he would have come to me—trusted me enough to let me in. I wish he had told me what was going on. I would have understood—at least, I told myself I could have. I guess I couldn’t blame him really. Thinking back over the years, I’d done some ignorant things—things that could have gotten us both killed. In the end, we were both stubborn people who were willing to do whatever it took to keep the other safe.
The driver snored in the front seat and the time on my clock changed once again—another minute Sebastian was out of my sight. I couldn’t take it anymore. Opening the door, I tossed the money for the ride onto the front seat. The driver jumped when I slammed the door shut.
I crept across the street and into the alleyway where I’d last seen Sebastian. My eyes scanned the disgusting space, and I flinched as the smell of trash and sewer grew stronger. Making my way around the rust-covered building where Sebastian had gone, I tripped over the sidewalk and almost fell onto the gross asphalt. My fingers skimmed the rough outer shell of the building.
“Damn.” I hissed, pulling my fingers back to see blood rush to the surface.
“Now, that’s no way for a lady to speak,” a voice sounded from behind me.
I gasped and started to turn around, but whoever it was held me forward, his hand skimming my side and making my nausea thicken in my stomach. My purse fell to the ground, the letters and my gun spilling out onto the broken wet asphalt.
“I see you found my love letters.”
The sound of his voice in my ear was all too familiar, and I quivered at the sound of it. It was instinct to want to turn toward the sound of his voice, but he pushed the blunt tip of a gun into my side—the metal cold through my thin shirt—and it stopped me.
“Not just yet, sweetheart. You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?” I didn’t respond, and he just laughed. “That’s a good girl. Now, we’re going to take a little trip. Start walking.”
I did as he said, afraid to do anything else. My feet felt heavy as I moved. I left my purse, the letters, and my gun—the only thing I had to save myself—on the ground just outside where Sebastian was. I considered dropping to my knees and snatching the gun, but I knew I wasn’t faster than a bullet. And with his gun pressing into my side, I was as good as trapped. I wasn’t about to take that risk. Not with the life of my unborn baby on the line.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
The ground beneath my feet shifted as a wave of fear and dizziness swept over me.
“You read the letters, Rosslyn. You know exactly why I’m doing this. A life for a life, remember?”
“I don’t get it. Whose life was taken? Taking Sebastian’s life isn’t going to bring that person back.”
“Silly, stupid girl,” he spat angrily.
The gun dug harder into my side and I winced. I’d upset him. The gun moved from my side and brushed my chin before he stuck it to my neck. Closing my eyes, I silently prayed to live.
For Sebastian.
For our baby.
I just needed to live.
“It’s not Sebastian’s life I plan on taking. At least, not the way you’re thinking.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, holding back tears.
My voice was raw with emotion—harsh and gritty.
“And you won’t understand. Not right now, anyway. And until everyone’s joined the party, you’ll have plenty of time to wonder. Now, move your ass.”
I dragged my feet. My knees feeling weak and wobbly. I could feel it coming. I was going to faint. I was definitely going to pass out on the dirty asphalt with a gun digging into my neck.
“Fuck!” he roared behind me. “Fucking move.”
I didn’t see the blow coming. Instead, pain shot into the back of my head and down my spine when he smashed something against the back of my skull. I wobbled for a bit, hearing a string of his angry curses from behind me. Then the blackness moved into my vision slowly before swallowing me completely.
I SEARCHED ALL MY OLD haunts, asking every person I passed where I could find Anthony. I greased so many palms with benjamins that my wallet was practically empty, and still, I came up with nothing.
Not one fucking clue.
The fucker was hiding out somewhere and I’d find him. In time, I’d have my hands wrapped around his throat and I’d be choking the life from him. Oh, it would happen. I didn’t have any other choice. He chose to fuck with my world, so I was going to fuck up his.
Life for a life.
An eye for an eye.
He threatened me and mine, and I was going to end him. With a baby on the way, that was the way it had to be. I couldn’t sleep on this shit anymore. I needed to act.
For Rosslyn.
For our baby.
For my world.
Leaving Anthony’s final spot, a run-down metal building full of meth and its makers, the heavy door squeaked like a dying animal as it shut behind me. I stood here a minute, my hands on my hips, as I debated on where to go next. But there was nowhere else. I’d spent the day hitting every spot.
My car stood out next to the shitty area it was parked in. A few hoods stood close by, their grimy fingers skimming the perfect paint job as they debated stealing it. I started toward my car, pressing the button and making the horn beep and the lights flicker. The assholes standing around it jumped at the sound and lights and scattered like cockroaches.
I was almost to my car when I tripped over something and landed on my knees in the pitted asphalt.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I wiped my muddy hands against my expensive slacks.
It was then that I saw what I’d tripped over.
My heart stopped.
The ground went blurry as my blood pressure shot up and my fingers shook with nerves. Swiping up Rosslyn’s purse, surrounded by the letters and the pink gun I’d bought her years before, I held it in my grasp as I scanned the area around me.
She was there. Or at least, she had been there.
How else would her purse have gotten there?
She’d followed me. She’d followed me right into the fucking mouth of the beast, and now, there was no telling where she was. I had to find her before something terrible happened—before Anthony got his paws on her.
He was a dead man.
THE CLUB WAS IN FULL swing, people danced and laughed as if my life wasn’t in total chaos. People smiled at me and tried to talk to me as I made my way across the room toward my office.
“Hey, Black, have a drink with us, man!” Someone shouted as I passed, but I didn’t even look his way. I was on a mission, one that required every firearm I owned.
After finding Rosslyn’s purse, I searched the area on the verge of insanity. I’d even considered calling the police, but I knew th
ey couldn’t do anything. It was up to me and me only. I called her phone only to hear it ringing inside her purse.
She was gone.
I’d tried to call Mac the entire drive back to the club, but he wasn’t answering, which put me into overdrive. Something was definitely wrong. Mac always answered.
I took the stairs to my office two at a time, my legs powering through the steps and pushing me to my goals.
Guns.
Finding Rosslyn.
And blowing Anthony’s fucking brains out.
Throwing open my office door, I hit the lights, but nothing happened. The room remained dark. I flipped the switch up and down, the clicking noise filling the room. And then realization set in and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
It was then that the lamp on my desk clicked on and I was able to see Rosslyn sitting in the middle of my office tied to my chair. She was unconscious, her face resting against her chest and her red hair, tinted with blood, falling down around her face keeping it covered.
I rushed toward her and fell to my knees in front of her. Her skin was cold to the touch when I lifted her head and pushed away her hair to reveal her pale face. My fingers felt the gash on the back of her head, and when I pulled my hand back, my fingers were stained with her blood.
“Rosslyn,” I whispered. My voice cracked with emotion and fear. “Please, Rosslyn.”
I’d never been a praying man, but at that moment, I sent up prayers to every deity in existence. She had to be okay. I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose our child. Cold had consumed my body, and I held my breath as I felt the side of her neck for a pulse.
A flicker of movement against my finger sent me reeling with joy.
She was alive.
Again, my fingers found the side of her head. She moaned, her head rolling lifelessly to the side, but still, she didn’t open her eyes. I went to work on the ties around her wrists, my fingers digging into the corded rope until the tips burned.
Little Black Box Set (The Black Trilogy) Page 41