by Koko Brown
Russell had planned on exacting revenge on Crush if his payment hadn’t been made, although he had no concrete plan for what he would do. He knew that Crush Crandall could no longer exist. With this turn of events, he could get his money and more.
“She’s that important to you, huh?” Russell waited to hear what Crush had to say.
“Invaluable. You remember how close we were.” Crush smiled, showing off his gold-capped tooth. “I’m afraid not much has changed with her. Even in her thirties, she’s still that flighty girl you remember.”
Russell cast his eyes down when he heard Crush’s assessment so that he didn’t give away his doubt. He had never known Victoria Crandall to be flighty. If anything, Russell remembered wanting to talk to her more than the bimbos he used to date.
No, something felt off here unless Victoria had changed within the last few years. She had done something reckless the night he had gotten arrested. Otherwise, the flighty characterization didn’t fit Victoria.
Crush continued. “I have my people watching her in Vegas. I know when she’s heading home. I need someone to get her and bring her to me so I can protect her.”
Russell peered at Jelly. “They’re cousins. Why not send him?”
“He’ll be working for me that day.” Crush shook his head.
“Then why don’t you get her if you’re that concerned?” Russell’s intuition rarely failed him. He started to feel like Crush hid something in this deal.
“I’ll be busy the day she comes in. Look, I’m telling you. This is easy money for you. You’ll go to the Norfolk airport. You see her. She sees you. You’ll get her bags and bring her back to my place. You still remember our house in Bay Colony?”
Russell remembered Crandall’s pricey digs. He still didn’t believe his former boss could be that concerned over his daughter. However, if Russell played his cards right, he could make himself a better deal by withholding Victoria.
What if he picked her up and hid her for a few days, made Crush worry? Better yet, he could be that Chop man Crush had called him and Russell could start mailing personal items to Crush that would prompt a higher payment. A million dollars might go up to two or five, maybe more. Or Crush could send his henchmen after Russell. Russell would go down swinging.
He walked by Crush. “Fuck you.”
From behind Russell, he heard Crush say, “If not you, someone else will get her. Trust me. I’ll get her.”
If Russell’s shady instincts remained intact, and if Crush needed Victoria as badly as he stated, Crush wouldn’t leave this conversation like this. Crush would try to sell Russell on this job, which would be a good thing. Getting a target to give up something willingly and make a plan seem like they hatched it up always helped. How could a person scream that they were duped if the plan came from them?
“Wait!” Jelly exclaimed from behind Russell.
Got him.
Russell didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down his trek. He would make the man beg for his services, which sometimes meant more money.
“Two.” Crush uttered the single word, barely audible above the rushing traffic.
Russell slowed down, mainly because his feet started hurting, but Crush didn’t need to know that.
“Five.” Crush’s voice rose above the urban noise.
Russell finally stopped, waited a beat, then turned around. “Guaranteed. I need proof.”
Crush looked like he cursed under his breath before he peered up and nodded.
Russell turned back around and headed to the duo. “Let’s talk.”
Talking meant nothing. Russell kept quiet and glared at his former boss as he detailed Victoria’s itinerary.
Although Crush hated it, evident from the way he continued to fan himself, Russell insisted for the conversation to take place in a public picnic area across the street from the bank. If Crush or Jelly got crazy, Russell needed witnesses. He glanced up at a nearby strip mall and saw a camera at the corner of the building. Again, if anything happened, he needed another set of eyes on him. Electronic ones would work.
Russell had one stipulation to do this job. He wouldn’t take one of Crush’s vehicles. Knowing his old boss, it would be rigged with tracking devices. Russell would get Victoria his own way.
After the brief conversation, Russell remained at the table and waited until Crush and Jelly drove out of his sight before he made his move. He had remembered an old extended-stay hotel being close by.
He couldn’t see himself sharing a room or space with men who had either been recently incarcerated, on drugs, or both. Russell would get his own spot for now. Lay low until he could finally bounce.
Russell paid for a week stay at the hotel that had seen better days. He remembered it looking like shit years ago. Now garbage littered the parking lot. Grass grew between the cracks in the pavement and sidewalk. Some of the windows facing the front of the place had frosted areas. Everything about the place appeared faded.
The room didn’t look any better. It smelled of cigarette smoke. The drapes matched the bed covering at least. Too bad both looked like sad flowers in an abandoned garden. He didn’t want to speculate what caused the various stains on the floor and on the few white spots on the comforter.
No way could he bring a woman back here. Not a good woman. Who was he kidding? A nice woman with her life together wouldn’t go for him.
Russell caught his reflection in the mirror affixed to the back of the door. No longer slim due to his constant exercising in prison, he looked a lot bulkier than he thought he would. Shaving his head had nothing to do with the skinhead assholes he had to deal with every day. He did it out of necessity. Actually, maybe more like vanity. When his hair started thinning out, he beat it to the punch and got rid of all of it.
He rubbed his hand over his chin. Shit. He needed to shave. The prison had given him a gift pack of toiletries. The cheap razor would cut up his face and head. He didn’t want to look too out of place for the job he would do.
He couldn’t worry about his appearance now. Russell needed food. When he heard voices outside of his bedroom window, he made sure the windows had been locked securely and he closed the blinds. He didn’t have much except for the few dollars he had in his pocket. He didn’t need to draw any attention to himself.
As soon as he walked out of his room, a couple of guys stood at the corner next to another room. Both tall, thin white guys reminded Russell of himself at that age with one exception. Russell liked looking good, even when his mother had no money. She used her sewing skills to keep his clothes looking pristine. He wished he had appreciated her more while she lived.
Russell gave the two young men a cursory nod as he checked the lock on the door before he went to the convenience store next door. He picked up a loaf of bread, peanut butter, beef jerky, and water.
Damn. Why did he still eat like he had a number assigned to him instead of a name? After making the purchases, he went to a burger joint next to the store and got a couple of cheeseburgers on special, a large order of fries, and a milkshake. He had to snicker, thinking that he had just gotten food that looked like what a death-row inmate would eat before being executed.
When he returned to his room, the two guys who had been at the corner of the hotel had now moved closer to his room. The few remaining hairs across the back of his neck stood on end. That same feeling he had when he had been jumped in prison came back quick.
He didn’t want the old fighting feeling to surface so quickly. It simmered right at the surface. Russell had to fight the urge to ball his hand into a fist, which came easy as he juggled his bags and milkshake to get his room key.
“Lots of food, huh?” one of them said.
Russell didn’t acknowledge them this time. He put the key into the lock.
“What? You can’t talk to us? Think you’re too good?” The other one started to approach Russell.
“Go on about your business.” Russell kept his attention on the door. “You don’t want to do this
.”
Then he heard something that got his reaction. The familiar click of a switchblade knife being opened forced him to direct his attention to the two men.
“Keep your food. We just want your money.” The one man cloaked in darkness and bad overhead lighting held the knife up to him at head level.
Since the man stood a few inches below Russell’s six-foot-two height, he had the knife aimed at Russell’s throat.
“And if you get any ideas…” The other man lifted his shirt to show off the handle of a gun that he had shoved down the front of his jeans.
Russell placed his bags and cup on the ground in front of the door then raised his hands. “I don’t want trouble. I don’t have anything.”
“You had enough to get this hotel room and some food. More than what I got.” The one with the gun shifted back and forth as he scanned the area.
“Spent it all.” Russell nodded to his hotel room. “I’m going to eat this and then kill myself.” He felt his eye twitch and his lips pull to the side.
The one with the knife stared at him suspiciously before he turned to his buddy behind him.
Mistake.
Russell needed the right window of opportunity to make his move. He managed to snatch the knife from the robber’s hand before he sliced the blade down the palm of the man’s hand. A small voice in his head begged for him to do more, show these punks a lesson, take a trophy.
“Shit! Fucker! He cut me.” The man doubled over while clutching his bleeding palm.
The position gave Russell the chance to kick him back against the other man, making them both topple to the ground. At that point, Russell jumped on the one that showed off the gun.
He reached in the man’s waistband and pulled out the weapon.
“What the hell, man!” The man scurried backward, doing a disjointed crabwalk.
The piece felt light in Russell’s hand. When he examined it, he saw that he held a toy, complete with a bright orange tip at the end of the muzzle.
“Fucking idiot.” Russell went after the asshole.
He didn’t cower. No matter what, he would never do that. The fact that he had taken this jerk seriously pissed him off to no end. Russell had done his time relatively quietly. He defended himself if needed. He had been determined to go straight when he had gotten released. Now these fuckers wanted to erase all that in one moment.
Although the reformed side of himself screamed for him to leave these two where they laid, call the police, and let them go through the proper process, his old self dared him to give these guys a lesson. Show them what he had not been shown when he decided to join Crush’s crew.
While on the ground, Russell landed his fist against the young man’s jaw. “If you show a man a gun, you had better be prepared to use it.”
The flesh-to-flesh connection stoked the fire inside Russell. His breathing increased as he glared at him. When he saw the blood trickling from his nose and lip, it prompted him to continue.
He punched him again and again and again until from the corner of his eye, he spotted the one he had cut approaching him.
Russell held up the knife to him while the other man remained still on the ground. “If you want to keep all of your fingers, I would strongly suggest that you drag this piece of shit away from here now.” He stood up and backed up to his hotel room door. “If I see either of you around here again, I’ll cut off a finger.” He studied him for a moment. “No. A hand. Come back with help, I’ll kill all of them and your fucking families. Am I understood?”
The look he gave him must have translated successfully. He said nothing as he grabbed his partner’s hand and pulled him to a car at the back corner of the parking lot. He loaded the unconscious man into the backseat before he jumped in the driver’s seat and squealed out of the parking lot.
Russell had no fear of police intervention. Thieves, even dumb ones like those, knew well enough not to alert the police about a crime when they had attempted to commit one themselves.
He turned back to his hotel room door again. Before he picked up his food, he stared at his hands. One still held onto the knife. The other clutched the plastic gun. He closed the blade into itself and shoved both into his pocket. Once inside, he threw both weapons away and washed his hands under scalding hot water.
He could never get himself clean enough. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his killer instinct remained intact. Russell would have to keep that feeling tamped down until he needed it. That would be soon.
THREE
Victoria hesitated before taking that final step off the plane into the main terminal. She didn’t think coming home to Virginia would be this hard. Without support, she felt alone. Now, without a gun, she became vulnerable for a whole different reason. She couldn’t wait to get home, her fortress.
In the early morning after her all-night flight, she scanned the airport. The few travelers that bustled around the place didn’t acknowledge her. Their dismissive attitude could have been a ploy. She could stroll by some little old lady who could easily turn around and stab her in the back or shoot her before getting to the TSA area.
Fuck. She hated feeling this paranoid. She needed security, her own team. Not Lenny. She knew where his loyalties remained.
Flying a commercial plane home, hopefully, had bought her some time, along with leaving her cell phone in her hotel room. She’d made sure to wipe it first before taking her SIM card. Once she got her bearings and in a relatively safe spot, she would call the pilot still in Vegas and let him know she’d made alternative arrangements for her travel. Then she would fire his ass for revealing to Crush her whereabouts.
Now she would have to figure out a way to get home. Taxis, rental cars, and even Ubers all could be traced. She needed to be in control of this situation. Victoria couldn’t let her father think that he had the upper hand in anything.
Victoria took the escalator down. Why the hell had she checked any bags? She should have packed everything she needed in a carryon bag and been more mobile. Now she would have to wait.
As the motorized steps descended, Victoria had to blink at something she saw, or rather someone. A person held up a piece of paper in front of their face that had V. Crandall scrawled on it. Who the hell knew she would be home now?
She could tell a man held the sign. His scuffed-up booted shoes, thick thighs under well-worn jeans, and the sizable hands holding her name gave away his sex. The longer she stared down below his belt, the more she imagined that the subtle crease going down one side of his zipper had to be his penis.
Wow. Had it really been that long since she had been with a man that she now imagined dick sizes on strangers? Pathetic.
When her good senses took over, she realized that since she didn’t set up for a ride home, this person had to have been sent by Crush. If Crush knew her every move, he must have planned to do something to her.
A shiver crept up her spine. Victoria quickly got herself together. She still had control. This person wouldn’t be dumb enough to do something to her in a public place, especially in an airport.
As soon as she got to the ground floor, she would act like she didn’t see the guy and keep moving to get her bags.
Victoria’s plan would have worked until the driver lowered the paper. Hidden behind it stood the man she hadn’t stopped thinking about since she first met him at sixteen. Russell Griffing.
Since Victoria’s parents danced on the wrong side of the law, they had managed to keep her away from their unsavory elements until Victoria’s teenage years. Once she started driving, she slowly got to meet some of her parents’ associates. They all seemed sketchy except for one.
Russell Griffing had never come off as a typical tough guy, even though she knew the man could handle himself. Crush didn’t put his confidence in a lot of people, then and now. Russell managed to gain and retain her father’s trust.
Even with a shaved head, Russell looked amazing, but a bit worn and, of course, older. Mature. His normally bri
ght blue eyes appeared dull and harsh, like he had seen things he didn’t want to view and definitely wouldn’t discuss. A small scar marred his square jaw. A slight bump existed on the upper bridge of his nose where he didn’t have any imperfections before. When he spotted her, the side of his mouth curled up into a snarl.
Russell remembered her, and he didn’t look happy about it. The thought of that had her heart pounding. A bead of sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades under her blouse. She wanted to blame sweating on Virginia’s humid temperatures. Thinking about her past deeds with Russell had her face flushing hot.
Victoria quickly averted her gaze and attempted to stick to her original plan. She would go to the carousel to get her bags and find a way home. Nothing good could come from associating with Russell Griffing again.
“Victoria.”
Hearing him say her name had Victoria’s knees buckling. His normally husky voice had dropped to a deeper octave and had become a bit more gravelly. Good to see he hadn’t lost that command he had in his timbre.
“Hey.” Russell called after her again. “Stop, will you?”
She didn’t. Victoria continued to the correct location to collect her bags.
Russell stood next to her. “Victoria.”
She took a breath before finally bringing her attention to him. “I didn’t know you had gotten out.” Victoria made sure to raise her voice so that others around her could witness their conversation.
“I didn’t know you knew I went away,” he shot back immediately. “Not like you visited or sent me any letters with pictures.”
Her pussy twitched. Fuck. How did he do that? And why did she feel lust now instead of fear? She knew the kind of man Russell Griffing used to be when he worked for her father. He might have been kind to her in the past, but she knew it had only been because he worked for Crush.
Victoria kept her stare straight ahead. “Why are you here?”