by Tabatha Kiss
“How?”
His eyes drops to Myra. “Let’s not go full-Bond here and explain all the tricks in front of her, all right?”
Myra grunts in disappointment. “I don’t like it. But I respect it.”
I offer Boxcar a silent, respectful nod. He doesn’t return it.
Luka clears his throat. “If Gio is claiming brides, then there will be a wedding,” he says, bringing us back on topic. “I doubt Gio would abandon his family’s traditions, even in a fit of vengeance.”
Sofia nods. “Yes. If he does this, it will be in the Zappia way.”
“What does that mean?” Dante asks.
“It means...” She takes a hopeful breath. “There’s still time. Zappia brides, we...” She stops herself. “They are given days of silent prayer and tutelage. During which Gio will not be kind, but... he won’t do anything to them before the wedding night. It’s not their way.”
Dante seems comforted by the thought, but only for a second. “And the wedding night?” he asks.
Sofia’s eyes fall.
I deflate, turning my head down. I’ve seen what Gio is capable of putting his wives through with my own eyes. Sofia, bruised and broken, screaming in Luka’s arms. Covered in blood. She betrayed him and she barely made it out alive.
I’m not about to picture what he’ll put Dani through because of me.
“We won’t let him get that far,” I say. I turn back to Myra. “Where would they go?”
“I told you,” she says, annoyed. “They didn’t tell me.”
“Take a guess.”
She scoffs. “Fuck. I don’t know. Bangkok?”
“You said he negotiated deals with Snake Eyes for the Zappia family,” I say. “Where did those happen?”
“The estate in Rome, at first,” she answers. “Then... all over? Usually in our safe houses throughout Europe and the US.”
I bite down. That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.
“Anyway....” Myra slowly rises out of her chair. “It’s been great, but I think that’s it for me—”
I lay a hand on her shoulder and push her back down. “Not so fast.”
“I told you everything I know!”
Dante sneers. “I don’t think we’ve scratched the surface of everything you know, Myra.”
“Okay, yeah, sure, if you wanna get pedantic about it — but I told you everything relevant your current situation. What more do you want?”
I slam her head down to the table. “What more do I want?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I want my fucking life back.”
“Get in line!” she says. “You think you’re the only one whose lost their lives to this organization? You think others before you haven’t tried to do exactly what you’re doing now?” She tries to shake me off but I push her down harder. “You want to live, Fox? Then run. Forget what you know, where you’ve been, who you are. Just run.”
“I’ve tried that already. You wouldn’t let me go.”
“And she never will! That’s what your life is now. It’s not about happiness or love. It’s about her.” She exhales and her lip quivers. “We serve her... whether we like it or not. We are all replaceable in her eyes. Even me.”
“Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?” I dig my fingers into the back of her neck. “Look around. You have no friends here, Myra.”
“Amber,” she whispers. “My name... is Amber.”
“Well, Amber,” I say, pushing off her. I take a step back. “You made your choice, same as the rest of us. Recruitment into Snake Eyes is strictly voluntary, isn’t that what you always said?”
Her eyes lock on mine, pure rage behind a veil of black hair.
I grab my knife by the blade and hold the handle up in the air. “Lilah.”
Lilah steps back into the room from the hallway and takes the knife from me.
“She’s all yours,” I say.
Myra’s eyes fall. “Wait...”
Lilah looks at me and smiles. “Welcome back, Fox,” she says.
I turn away and walk out of the room.
“Fox...” Myra shouts after me. “No. We had a deal, Fox!”
“I lied,” I say, never looking back.
Forty-Five
Dani
There’s a knocking sound, somewhere outside of this room. A rhythmic tapping, like heels against a hardwood floor. It draws closer. It passes by. It fades off again.
I open my eyes. The ceiling is old and gray, just like the bed I lie on. I roll over and stare at the three-drawer dresser in the corner, obviously meant for a child. A vanity sits by the wall but the mirror is broken.
I try to ignore the crib beside it.
Where am I?
I look at my left hand. It’s surgically wrapped with gauze and bandages but it still hurts as much as it did when Marilyn sliced it open and stole nearly a pint of blood from me. My ring is gone. That hurts the most.
My clothes aren’t mine. I wear a long dress with long sleeves down to my wrists. They’re clean but I could definitely use a shower or two.
How long have I been here?
I stand up off the bed and take a step toward the window, suddenly stopping as my ankle catches. I give it a yank and my heart drops as I realize I’m chained to the bedpost. I’m not going anywhere. At least, nowhere five feet away from this bed.
I lean closer to the window, stretching my arm to push the thick, jet-black curtains aside. They obscure even blacker painted glass but I can hear signs of city life on the other side. Cars honking and sirens wailing. Distant voices on the street below.
I tap on the glass with my fingertip. It’s breakable. That’s good to know.
There’s that knocking again.
This time, it stalls out behind my door. A set of keys jingle and I brace myself to face my captor.
The lock clicks and the door opens slowly.
A woman stands there with lush, brown hair and comforting eyes, though I don’t feel very comforted. She wears an old-fashioned dress you’d see on 60’s sitcom wives and carries a small tray with a sandwich and apple slices, perfectly arranged with care. A short bottle of water sits beside a tiny plastic cup. I hear the pills click around inside as she picks it up and walks toward me.
She stops a foot away and extends her hands, offering me the pills and water.
“What is that?” I ask.
She says nothing. Her eyes say nothing.
“What is it?” I ask again.
She shakes the cup, urging me to take it.
“Listen, Nurse Ratched,” I say, “I’m not taking anything unless you tell me who you are and what the fuck it is.”
“They’re antibiotics.”
A man appears behind her in the doorway. The woman bows her head and takes a wide step backward as he walks into the room.
He pauses in front of us and smiles, his cheeks dimpling with boyish charm. “For your hand,” he says, gesturing toward my bandage.
I look between them, staying quiet as he takes the water from her and opens his palm for the pills.
“It’s all right,” he says to her. “You can go.”
The woman bows and quickly shuffles back out into the hallway, leaving the door open behind her.
“You’ll have to excuse my mother. She’s been told not to speak to you.” He extends his hand. Tiny, white pills sit in his palm. “Here. Don’t want to catch infection.” He chuckles, waiting patiently.
He’s got the same features as the woman, so the mother things isn’t too much of a stretch. He’s poised, yet relaxed. Completely in control and he knows it.
I turn up my hand and he drops the pills into it. “Who are you?” I ask.
He twists the cap off the bottle and offers me the water. “If I had known they would bleed you, I would have requested somewhere a little less delicate,” he says, shaking his head at my hand. “Cuts to the palm are just so... impossible to heal.”
“Who are you?” I ask again.
“Take the pills,” he
says, the pleasant tone draining from his voice. “Then, we’ll talk.”
I pop them into my mouth and take a quick sip from the bottle to help swallow them down.
“Now, please sit,” he says, turning away. He walks to the table by the door and picks up the tray of food. “I won’t tell you twice.”
I lower onto the edge of the bed. He sets the tray down beside me and snatches an apple slice for himself before sliding away and sitting down on the vanity’s stool.
He nips off a piece of apple and grins. “Roxie Roberts, huh?” he says, chewing softly. “This is exciting. I don’t think we’ve ever had a real celebrity here before.”
“Where’s Caleb?” I ask.
“Do not think for a moment your star status will do you any favors here.” He clears his throat. “We have a few simple rules that you will adhere to.”
“Where is she?”
“Number one being that you are not entitled to answers,” he says, raising his voice. “You will not ask questions. Not to me or the staff of this household. Is that clear?”
I bite down hard.
“Number two...” He tilts his head. “You will answer when spoken to.”
I stare at him, trying not to blink. “Who are you?” I ask.
He nods slowly before putting the remaining apple bit in his mouth and rising off of the stool. “And number three...” He moves closer to stand over me. “You will do as I tell you.” He touches my forehead and slowly creeps his finger down my cheek. “You will obey me... the way a woman is required to obey her husband.”
I flinch away but he snatches my chin, forcing me to look up at him again.
“You will say thank you. You will say please. Yes, sir. No, sir.” He digs his fingers in. “You will submit to me... and you will bear my child.”
I spit at his face and he grabs my throat, yanking me up off the mattress.
“Or I will break you, Danielle Roberts,” he says, his face an inch away from mine.
I make eye contact with him, holding his stare as I try to breathe. “Fox...” I say, wheezing. “Fox will kill you.”
He smiles with those same boyish dimples, regarding me like an ignorant child. “He’ll die trying,” he says.
“You don’t know him.”
“And you don’t know me.” He squeezes tighter, choking me. “My name is Giovani Zappia… and you’re mine now.”
He drops me and I fall back, coughing hard.
“Get some rest,” he says on his way to the door. “Big day coming soon.”
I sit up, putting my weight into my arm as I try to stay upright. He pauses in the doorway, his form blurred by a veil of tears.
“What do we say, Danielle?” he asks.
I cough again, tasting bile in my throat. “Yes, sir,” I say.
The door slams behind him and the lock clicks.
Forty-Six
Boxcar
And the little baby, too.
Five words. That’s all it took for Myra to completely destroy me.
She’d do it, too. She wouldn’t hesitate to take everything I love with a quick flick of her wrist.
Which is why I can’t for the life of me figure out why I’m so conflicted.
Myra Black is Rosemary’s freakin’ baby. She’s murdered who knows how many people as the second in command of the deadliest underground organization on the planet. She personally violated me, an event that still makes me nauseous if I think about it for too long.
But that doesn’t make me okay with torture.
“Box?”
I snap out of it and glance around the room. The others stare at me from various places. Luka and Sofia sit side-by-side on the loveseat in the corner while Archer takes the recliner beside it with Lilah on the floor, her head playfully resting on his knee. Dante paces along the same patch of carpet by the window.
And Fox regards me with suspicion from the sofa across from mine.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you still tracking Casey?” he repeats.
“Oh.” I poke the spacebar on my laptop, waking it up to check my software. “Yeah,” I say, spotting the green dot on the map. “He must be settling in for the night.”
“Or he found the chip and left it someplace,” Lilah says, amused.
I shrug, not caring for her ‘tude. “Yeah. Sure. It’s possible.”
Fox eyes me for a moment before he continues. “Let’s assume he didn’t,” he says. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll go to Paris and make contact. I’ll talk to him myself, see if I can narrow down where they were supposed to deliver Lilah. That’s where we’ll find Dani and Lucy.”
“No,” I say, flexing my jaw. “I’ll talk to him.”
All heads turn toward me again.
“Are you sure?” Fox asks.
“Yeah, we’ll have a better chance if it comes from me,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Lilah throws up a hand. “I’ll escort him. Casey might take it as a sign of good faith that we mean business.”
Dante nods, still staring out the window. “Sounds good.”
Archer touches her shoulder. “You sure about that?” he asks. “He might take advantage. Scoop you up then and there and drag you to Gio.”
“In that case, the plan is easy,” she says. “I get tossed in the dungeon. I’ll find Dani and Lucy and then you guys can swoop in and help bust us out. Just don’t lose track of us leaving France and we’ll be groovy.”
“And if we do lose you?” Archer asks.
“Then, we go to the source,” Luka says. “It’s obvious that Antony Zappia hasn’t been honoring the conditions of our new truce. I owe him a little visit.”
Sofia nods beside him. “And if there really is to be a Zappia wedding, then Antony will surely be there. Beatrix as well.”
Dante turns away from the window. “But it’ll all go better with a man on the inside,” he says. “Tomorrow, we talk to Casey and find out where Dani and Lucy are.”
“And Caleb,” I add, my voice a bit too loud. “Let’s not forget about her.”
Archer nods. “Of course, mate,” he says.
I set my laptop on the table and stand up. “I’m gonna stretch my legs,” I say, excusing myself and walking toward the back exit just off the kitchen.
The sky is hazy shade of purple, just seconds away from total pitch-blackness. I stand on the edge of the patio stairs, the path leading down to a line of covered, dead bodies. There goes my plans for a quick walk around the house. The air up here is fine but I wonder what it smells like over there after day of decomposition.
“Boxcar.”
I breathe out through my nostrils as Fox closes the back door behind him. I scan the yard one more time, prolonging the inevitable conversation just a little bit longer before I turn around and face him.
Fox tilts his head. “What’s up?” he asks me.
“Nothing,” I answer. “Just getting some fresh—”
“Come on, man. It’s me,” he says. “What’s going on?”
I scratch my neck. “I don’t know, Fox. Is it? Is this you?”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I knew you were a Snake Eyes agent, but I...” I pause. “It never really hit me until today exactly what that meant. I mean, you... are not the guy who pulled me out of that building out in the desert.”
“Okay, yeah.” He nods once. “I’ve had to do some bad things to survive. We all have.”
“No, Fox. Sniping two guys to stop them from killing me and Caleb was a bad thing to survive. What you did to Myra today was...” I shake my head. “You’ve said before that you had to play along and pretend to be the perfect agent to get by, but... Man, you’re not pretending anymore. You’re plastic.”
He frowns in confusion. “What?”
“Sorry.” I sigh, shaking off my nerves. “Caleb would have gotten that.”
“Box, all that I’ve done, everything I do, is for Dani,” he says. “To find her. To protect her.”
“At
what cost?”
“At every cost.”
“Well, is she all you care about?” I ask. “Do you even give a shit about finding Caleb at all?”
He takes a step back. “Okay, Box. I know you’re pissed off right now but you just asked me that with a straight face.”
“Is that a no?”
“Of course, I care about finding Caleb,” he says, his voice rising. “Did you forget that I’m the one who convinced her to stay behind? That I’m the one who told her to go with Dani instead?”
I look away, flexing my jaw.
“Because I haven’t forgotten,” he says. “I think about that every minute. I think about her and your baby... and I can hardly look at you at all because this is my fault. So yeah, Box, I focus on Dani... because if I think about Caleb, too, it’ll tear me apart.” He turns but spins back around. “And don’t you dare shame me for doing what needed to be done. Can you honestly say that if it were Caleb in Dani’s place, you wouldn’t have done the same?”
“Yes,” I answer, believing it to be true. “I would have found another way. Because I know that if I did what you did, Caleb would never look at me again.”
Fox drops his head.
I take a deep breath, finding the courage to say what needs to be said. “Listen, after this is all over, I don’t want you around my family anymore, Fox.”
He stares at me for a moment, his eyes blank. For a second, I think I see my friend actually looking back at me but I can’t be sure anymore. Is this really Fox Fitzpatrick? Or is this the wolf who wears Fox’s face?
Finally, he nods. “That’s your call,” he says.
I bite down, fighting the urge to take it back as he turns around and walks inside.
Dammit. That did not feel great.
I linger on the porch, not ready to go back inside just yet. The stars above me begin to shine through the coming dark. I think of Afghanistan. And the last time I was here. We look up at the exact same star fields all the time. It makes you wonder, do the stars look back? Do they notice how much we change, even when they don’t?
Probably not. They’re just stupid stars.
And that dead body stench is starting to waft on over here.