by W Winters
Frank’s all right I guess. He’s a little older than me, only by a few years, but he’s perpetually twenty-one. A punk kid with no goals in life other than making a buck on the streets and letting everyone know he’s proud of it. I don’t give a fuck what his motivation is, so long as he listens. I catch his light blue gaze and he slides back in his chair with a broad smile. “The boss is here,” he utters but his jovial words are slurred.
“Your mom waiting up for you, Frank?” I ask him, hiding my grin as I walk toward the table they’re sitting at in the right corner of the room.
Glancing over my shoulder, I take notice of who’s counting the money down the hall. All the drugs come in and out of the Red Room, Jase’s nightclub. As does the money.
“Ma can wait up all she wants.” He blows off my comment, not taking the hint that he should make his way out.
“I think there’s some business,” Jared points out and gestures between myself and Oliver, his head tilted as he tries to convey to Frank that he should get the fuck out of here.
The shot glass sounds heavy as it hits the table and Frank pushes out his chair. “All right, all right, the big guys gotta talk.” He mutters without looking at me, “You don’t got to tell me twice.” As he’s putting on his jacket, I lay a hand down on his shoulder and wait for him to look at me. I stand close to him, catching him off guard and creating a thick tension that’s undeniable. Fear looms in the depths of his eyes as I tell him earnestly, not breaking eye contact, “Thanks for understanding.”
“Can we get another?” Oliver asks, the happiness not at all dampened. He doesn’t see how Frank stumbles backward; he doesn’t notice the change in the air. Frank does, and all he says on his way out is, “Of course, boss.”
Yeah, Frank’s an all right guy.
As I pull out the chair across from Oliver, letting it drag across the floor, Frank leaves, entering back into the club, bringing in the pounding music. It’s quick to fade as the door closes with a resounding click.
“Thank you, thank you,” Oliver thanks Jared, who’s pouring out another shot of whiskey in front of Oliver and then filling the empty glass Frank just had.
“To finally snuffing out the fucking Talverys.” Oliver’s age finally shows as he raises the glass in the air and doesn’t hide the hate on his face. He’s new to the crew. Not at all like Frank, who started with me only five years ago. I picked up men as I took over street by street. Giving the men who ran them the option to come with me or die.
Oliver came to me though. Pissed that Talvery didn’t want him, he offered up his services as muscle on the street. If it wasn’t for Jared’s word, I never would have hired him. Too old. Too cocky. More than that, he’s too eager to make a name for himself.
With a nod of my head, the old man throws the drink back, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he sets down the glass and shakes off the burn of the shot.
“I heard everyone’s ready to get it over with,” I tell him, resting both of my arms on the table. A sly grin kicks up his lips. “Couldn’t be more ready, boss.”
My own grin shows itself. An asymmetric smirk as he calls me boss.
The dumb fuck should have remembered that earlier today.
“So, what happened,” I ask him easily, motioning with my hand palm up for more, “give me all the details.”
He’s grinning from ear to ear as he tells me what I already heard, what everyone heard.
“There were four of them right across the street from Dale’s bar, on Sixth Street. I saw them walking in and knew they’d be there for a few.”
In my periphery, I see Jared stiffen; he knows me well enough to realize that this isn’t going to end well for the man he stuck his neck out for to get on the crew. I bet he’s wondering what that means for him. If I was him, I’d be wondering too.
Oliver still hasn’t caught on. He’s nothing but proud as he tells me how he walked in and shot all four of them before they ever grabbed their guns.
“All on Talvery’s turf? That takes balls.” I compliment him although inside my heart is pounding, adrenaline raging inside of me and the tension building. I’ve been needing a release for all of this pent-up anger. Wiping the smirk off old Oliver’s face might be exactly what I need. That, or falling back into bed with Aria.
Just the thought of having her makes me want to speed this shit up and get back to her.
I’ve already been gone long enough.
“No one’s making a move, but they were right there,” he says and emphasizes his words, shaking his hands in the air. No one’s crossing lines, and no one’s made a move, not even Nikolai. But this dumb fuck thought he could do it and get away with it.
“How many shots have you had so far?” I ask him, my foot tapping against the ground as my impatience grows with every thought of getting Aria under me tonight.
“This is my fifth since Jared brought me in.” He sways slightly in his chair as he tells me, but the smile only widens.
“Two for each of the four,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear me and stand up. I have to walk around the table to pat him on the shoulder as I tell him, “Three more, all on me.”
The smell of whiskey hits me hard as he reaches up to return the pat on my arm. His touch is firm with the first pat, but I don’t stay in place, making the second one turn to a tap. My gaze is on Jared as Oliver says something behind me. A thanks and another cheers to killing the Talverys. I don’t fucking care what the dead prick has to say.
Pausing in front of Jared, I keep my voice low as I tell him.
“It’s on you to slit his throat when he’s done those three shots.”
On cue, Oliver calls out for another. The blood drains from Jared’s face, but he nods and with a low voice he answers, “Of course.”
There’s not a hint of anything but remorse on Jared’s face. He’s tense, but he had to know it was coming. “No one does a damn thing until I say so.” My shoulders stiffen, and the anger threatens to show itself, so I reach out, straightening Jared’s tie and then add, “If there are any other dumb fucks who want to show off and not wait for my orders,” I look Jared in the eye to tell him, “don’t bother me and make me come in here. Kill the pricks where they stand.”
Chapter 44
Aria
The front door is open; it’s never open.
The soft pads of my feet patter against the marble floor as I make my way to the entrance, following the bright light of day.
I can already smell the fresh air and the warmth before I step outside. The grass in the front yard is lush and although it’s fall, the weather is lovely.
I haven’t stepped on the porch at all. Not once since I’ve been here, and the thought seems too odd to be a reality, but it is. I was carried inside, and I’ve only ever looked through the etched glass of the windows but I don’t try to do that often as it is. It just seems cruel to tease myself like that.
I glance behind me, down the foyer, and then peek outside, but I don’t see anyone. Not at first. Not until I take a step onto the smooth slate porch and then another.
I hear him first, Jase. With a phone to his ear, he walks around the side of the house and then back up. There’s a hitch in my breath and a slam in my chest; I freeze, but only for a split second.
I’m walking outside.
I’m not trying to run away. Although I have to force my limbs to move, I do just that. Staring Jase in the eyes, I walk to the stairs. They’re grand and massive, just as you’d expect for an estate like this. Not to mention beautiful. Everything about this place looks expensive and each detail intricate, from the trimmed bushes and groomed flower beds to the arched driveway paved with cobblestone, reflects an elegance from whoever lives here.
I nearly snort just thinking about Carter choosing all these details. Carter is anything but elegant.
I hold Jase’s gaze as I slowly sit on the steps. A large column blocks me from his view and I can imagine he’ll come running.
&nb
sp; So sorry to interrupt his phone call. The captive is fleeing; call the guards, call the guards!
A genuine laugh makes my shoulders shake at the sarcastic thoughts. As I lean against the column, enjoying the sun that dances across my skin and the fresh breeze, Jase comes running up the yard, just as I anticipated.
Rolling my eyes, I give him a face. A face that says, are you fucking kidding me?
“I’m on break from being the prisoner. I called in a temporary replacement,” I mutter.
His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything, not to me and not for a few minutes. I can hear the sound of someone speaking from his phone although I can’t make out the words. He doesn’t seem to pay attention to them at all.
My heart beats a little harder and anxiety trickles slowly into my veins. My foot nervously taps on the stone steps, but I hold my ground. Even as I start to get emotional, knowing that I can’t even step outside without someone losing their shit, I stay right the hell where I am and enjoy the fucking porch.
“I’ll call you back,” Jase finally speaks, although it’s still not to me. My muscles get rigid and my teeth clench together. If he thinks he’s taking me inside… I swallow thickly at the thought. What am I really going to do? I can at least kick him. One good hard kick, maybe in the shin. I nod my head faintly at the idea, keeping my eyes on a few leaves that have turned a beautiful shade of auburn as they sway in the gentle wind. If he puts a hand on me to force me back inside, I swear I’m going to kick his ass.
A soft grin tugs at my lips. It’s nice to feel like a tough girl at least. And like I have a choice.
“You picked a good day,” Jase says, and I lift my gaze to see him slipping the phone into his pocket before he climbs the first few steps to sit by me but on a stair lower than mine.
I’m quiet for a moment, gauging how he looks so comfortable and acts like this is normal. Just like he did in the kitchen.
“It is nice.” I nip at my lower lip before adding, “I used to have a balcony off of my bedroom. I liked sitting out there.”
He glances back at me for a moment but ends it with a short, almost sad smile and then he leans back, bracing his forearms on the step behind him.
I guess my guard has decided to pretend to be my friend and just sit by me.
“Who designed this place?” I ask him, wanting a distraction and to think of anything but last night.
I woke up alone and that’s exactly how I’ve felt all day. Miserable and alone.
I could sit peacefully in silence on my own, but Jase interrupted that. If he’s going to babysit me, then he’s going to have to talk to me. A punishment for a punishment. I smile at the snide remark in my head and think about raking up all the good lines I’ve had since I walked out here. I guess I’m in a bitchy mood. Good luck to my adversaries.
“We did,” he answers with a smirk that doesn’t hide his pride.
“No, you didn’t.” I don’t even hesitate to call him out on his bullshit.
“Why would you think we didn’t?” he asks me, a quizzical look on his face.
“You’re telling me that you chose lilacs and peonies for the front yard?” I question him, challenging him to tell me that any of the Cross brothers wanted those plants.
Jase’s expression turns guarded and he clears his throat as he looks toward the very bushes that give me my argument.
“Our mother wanted lilacs and peonies.” His admission is spoken simply, flatly. “She asked for them for Mother’s Day, but she died just before,” he tells me, and his voice dims toward the end.
“I’m sorry,” I say and keep my tone gentle. “I didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” he says and waves me off. “I get what you mean, but yeah, we designed it. A few years back.” A gust of wind blows by, sweeping some of my hair in front of my face and some behind my back, leaving a chill in its wake and reminding me that it is, in fact, fall.
“Well, it’s beautiful,” I tell him genuinely. I ignore the chill in the air and wrap my arms around myself. Goosebumps threaten, but I’m not ready to go back inside and the sun feels warm. I could lie in the sun all day, but it looks like I barely have an hour before the trees on the edge of the estate will hide it from me.
“You aren’t planning on running, right?” Jase asks me and turns around to look at me with a stern look on his face. “I’d like to keep my balls, and I’m sure Carter would take them if I let you leave.”
Laughter erupts from me just because of how serious he looks. His expression changes to one of humor and I find myself surprised by him yet again. Shaking my head, my hair tickling my shoulders I tell him, “Daniel told me it’s useless with the guards.” I shrug as if it’s all a joke.
That’s what my captivity is apparently, a fucking joke. Yet, there’s only a modest pang of despair from that thought.
Jase huffs and looks over to the right side of the yard. And the way he does it makes me think Daniel’s lying. Like Jase is hiding something from me.
“There are guards?” I question him. “Aren’t there?”
He looks me up and down for a moment like he’s considering telling me something.
“Yeah,” he nods and tells me, “we have a few posted along the fences.”
I acknowledge what he said with a small nod, but don’t respond. Instead, I think about taking a walk to clear my head, but I’m sure Jase would follow me like a lost puppy and I wouldn’t be able to think anyway.
“We told them to just taze the pretty brunettes, though.”
I give Jase’s joke a small laugh and lean forward to run my hand down my legs before considering if he was being truthful. “You’re joking?” I ask him, and he shrugs like an asshole with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You’re in a good mood today,” I mutter sarcastically.
“Right back atcha.”
Time passes easily for a moment, but much to my dismay the clouds come in and capture the sun before I’m ready for the warmth to leave me.
“You want a blanket?” Jase asks me, and I glance at him, watching as he stands up, stretching his back and wincing as he holds his ass. “You might want to bring a chair out too if you’re staying longer,” he tells me, and I can’t help but smile.
“I may go in; I don’t know,” I tell him and that’s when my dumb heart reminds me that I’ll have to see Carter and that he’s being weird and distant… and stupid and guarded and a fucking dick. My throat goes dry and I let out a distressed breath. I can’t look at Jase when I do. I know he saw, though.
“You know he has it bad for you, right?” he asks me and that dryness in my throat travels higher, making me feel like I’ll choke if I speak, so I don’t.
“Don’t hurt him,” Jase tells me, and I whip my eyes to his, craning my neck since he’s standing up now.
“Me?” I ask him incredulously. “First of all, I don’t hurt people. Secondly, he won’t let me close enough to even think of hurting him. Whatever we have is very one-sided and,” I try to keep going, but my words crack, and I hate it. I hate that I’m emotional over this. I hate that I’m close to admitting how much I feel for him and that whatever he feels for me isn’t even close to being the same. I get why Beauty fell in love with the Beast, but it doesn’t change who Carter is. There’s no magical rose or kiss that will turn him into a prince. All Carter will ever be is a beast.
That ragged breathing comes back, and I stand up, ready to make a cup of tea and go hide in the den, or maybe the new room, the white room, the pretty room with the replicas of what I used to be in it. Whatever the hell that gilded room is. My hideaway room.
“Hey, hey,” Jase’s voice is comforting, and he takes a step closer to me, but doesn’t touch me as he says, “He’s had a hard time.”
“Yeah, well, so have I.” I bite out the words and surprisingly keep the bitterness in my voice to a minimum.
“He’s had a decade of hard times, of people he loved dying, his only friend an
d brother leaving him, and then other fucked up shit. It was a never-ending cycle until he became the person he is now.”
I glance up at Jase, but only for a second because I don’t want to cry. He looks sympathetic at least, and genuine, but right now I need to know something will change. I don’t need excuses; they’re never good for anything.
“What are you doing out here?” Carter’s sharp voice makes me jump and I nearly fall backward on the stairs but catch myself. My heart pounds and for the first time, I feel real fear since coming outside.
“Are you crying?” Carter asks me with disbelief and then turns to Jase with a look that could kill.
“She was just talking about you, actually,” Jase answers Carter slowly, and the two stare at each other for a long, hard moment.
“I wanted some fresh air for a minute,” I say to break up their moment, not holding back my anger as I continue. “I got lucky enough that my cage door was open.” With those parting words, I step past both of them, brushing against Carter as I do and hating that I breathe in his scent, feel his warmth, and love them both.
I need a cup of tea, a good book if I can find one in my new room, my hideaway room, and some time to ignore the world.
But Carter doesn’t give me that. I make it two steps inside the door before he snatches my elbow. I rip my arm away and he looks at me like he doesn’t understand. Like I’m the one who’s acting out of the ordinary.
“What’s wrong?” he asks me, concern lacing the demand to answer him.
“Are you fucking serious?” I don’t contain my outrage even though I should have. Carter’s eyes narrow and darken, but I don’t let it stop me. My heart races and it hurts harder with each thump.