by S. Ferguson
“I sent someone to get shit for you, you can clean up in a bit.” He pauses to shoot the rat’s nest on my head an amused glance. “Right now, I’m going to tell you what your purpose is.” He gives me a look making sure I’m paying attention, arrogance rolling off him in waves.
I start to open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but something stops me. My purpose here is that there isn’t one. First chance I get I’m out of here. Maybe the key to this won’t be fighting my way out, maybe the key to this is compliance until I see my chance.
“Let me give you a little history lesson,” Ron says, with a sigh, like somehow explaining his business to me against my will is a burden. I don’t know what he’s about to tell me, but I have a feeling I won’t like it.
“Tony runs an outfit in New York. He likes to think he’s on my level, but he isn’t. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the means to be a pain in my ass though. We had a run-in not too long ago, there was violence. He turned one of my guys against me, made him a traitor.” Ron grits his teeth, I can tell he’s not over that yet. “Anyway, we made peace, at least I thought we did, but when Lorenzo set him up, he took it personal. Seems to think I’m the asshole for assuming it could have been him.” Ron gives an aggravated sigh. Clearly, this guy has some sort of martyr complex. “Now he’s insulting me by sending a fucking errand boy here to talk. I don’t even know what the fuck he thinks we need to talk about, but the asshole’s coming. That’s where you come in.”
My head perks up. Now he’s got my interest. I could care less about some stupid fucking turf war, but I want to know what part Ron thinks I’m going to play in this.
“You’re going to be with me, at the meeting.” I open my mouth to protest but he keeps talking. “No one is going to look at you and know who you are. Hell, you’ve probably killed more men than the fucking douche he’s sending. They’re going to underestimate you and I’m counting on it. If shit hits the fan, I want something they’ll never see coming.” Ron looks at me and I take it as permission to speak.
“I’m not a fucking bodyguard. Why in the fuck would I sit there and protect you,” I hiss, scooting until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, my feet hitting the cold linoleum.
“Because I fucking said you are,” Ron growls. “Because we’re more alike than you want to admit. Because you need protection. You’re safe here. No feds are gonna come in here looking for you. Even if they did, not a single person in this building would fuckin’ rat on you. Because I tell them not to. You can’t get that anywhere else.” Ron smirks, he knows he’s right. “And, if shit hit the fan, and someone did off me, what do you think is going to happen to this city? Who’s going to hold Jake back?” His gaze becomes intimidating as he stares at me through his thick eyelashes. “And didn’t I tell you to watch your language?”
I flip off Ron even as reality begins to set in. For the first time, it really hits me what a role Ron has in this situation, in this city. Sure his guys deal in some stolen goods, run some weapons, but they’ve eliminated a lot of the violent crime. More importantly, they’ve become a safe place for people. Everyone knows if the cops won’t help you, you can go to Ron. It comes with a cost, usually a high one, but he will take care of it. Not for the first time, I wonder if things would have been better for me if I had come to Ron instead of just running away. I shake my head knowing that there is no point in wondering what if. It’s too late to go back now. I’ve made this mess and I get to rot in it.
“Fine,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You’re gonna act like my girl, let them think you’re a random piece of ass. We’ll get you some pretty shit to wear.” He winks at me and I growl.
“I’m not fucking you,” I spit at him as he rises to leave.
“You couldn’t handle my kind of fucking.” Ron laughs, making me blush, as he opens the door.
“Come on downstairs, they should be back by now.” He motions for me to walk in front of him.
For a minute I think this is my chance to run, but he grabs my arm as I walk by, not letting go as we make our way back outside and then inside the bar.
Bree and another guy are standing at the bar, a mess of shopping bags scattered across the dinged wood.
“Jesus fuck what did you guys buy?” Ron exclaims, letting go of my arm. He knows I wouldn’t make it to the doors if I tried to run now.
“Stuff she needs,” Bree says, motioning me toward her.
She opens up bag after bag showing me jeans and T-shirts, most of it black, and a coat. Judging by her all black outfit I’m assuming it was a natural choice for her. She pulls out a dress, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It looks like it could be a shirt it’s so short, the top looks like a corset, with delicate black chiffon straps.
“I didn’t know your shoe size, so I guessed we were close since our height is about the same. I did get you some basic makeup though.” Bree keeps digging through bags, producing some mascara, eyeliner, and dark red lipstick. “Oh, and I grabbed underwear but I figured you don’t want me to yank that out in here.” She gives me a smile.
I want to like her but I can’t forget who her father is. I can’t forget who I am and why I’m here.
“I don’t even wanna know how much of my fucking money you just spent,” Ron grumbles before pointing at the guy with her. “Dave, take this shit upstairs.”
The guy nods, reaching for the bags. I notice a large tattoo on his right arm, it looks like a tiger, the orange is so bright against his pale skin.
“Thanks,” I mumble to Bree. I’m not used to people doing things for me. I don’t quite know how to feel about it. Usually, a favor earns a favor in return. I don’t want to be indebted to Bree.
“Now that we’ve got your shit, let’s feed you and then you can shower,” Ron says, placing his hand on my lower back as he ushers me to a table.
Declan sets one of those microwavable all-in-one meals in front of me. I raise an eyebrow and give Ron a questioning look.
“All we have is a microwave. I’ll work on getting some proper takeout for you later. Eat.” He doesn’t give me a chance to protest, just walks off to a table of his men.
“I put shower stuff in one of the bags too,” Bree says before she and Declan walk off, his giant arm wrapped around her again. It’s like if she’s not tucked into his side, he thinks she’s going to die or something.
With a depressed sigh, I eat the flavorless food. Looking around the room as I chew, I watch everyone, taking note of their interactions. It’s clear they respect Ron; they keep a healthy distance from Bree too. But no one looks afraid, Ron isn’t a tyrant. There is an obvious comradery, though a few look a little uncomfortable when Jake wraps his arm around Greg’s shoulder affectionately.
I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be a part of that. To know that someone had my back unconditionally. Like Ron said, to be protected. Could I even trust that would happen though? I’ve been on my own so long now I’m not sure if I can live any other way. I shake my head trying to clear the thoughts. There is a reason I can’t imagine it, because it’s not real. Everyone is going to fuck you over in the end anyway, might as well cut to the chase and not even give them the chance.
6
Ron
Kella isn’t happy with the pathetic excuse for a fucking meal we gave her, but there isn’t anything I can do about that now. I should’ve planned better and gotten her a real dinner. Fuck, why am I even feeling bad about this. Pushing those thoughts aside I check in with Bree.
“Dave wasn’t a pain in the ass was he?” I ask her, leaning my elbows on the bar.
“He was fine,” Bree says, but something about the look on her face bothers me.
“Tell me,” I growl, leaning closer. I’m already running through possible burial locations in my head before she answers.
“It wasn’t him, okay?” She takes a deep breath. “But it felt …” her voice trails off and her cheeks tinge with pink. “It feels st
upid saying this out loud but it felt like we were being watched or something. The hairs on the back of my neck kept standing up, and I felt the need to run from a bad situation. Like when Mom …” She lowers her eyes tears beginning to pool in the corners.
Everything inside me freezes. I swear my heart stops for a moment. I’m used to someone trying to tail my guys, hell I’m pretty sure I’m followed most of the time I’m outside the bar or my apartment. Usually, it’s a newbie cop who doesn’t know who runs this city yet, or a lowlife feeling scrappy. But not Bree. Never Bree.
“Dave!” I bark, marching toward my office knowing he’ll follow me.
Once he comes inside and shuts the door, I sit behind my desk and face him.
“I didn’t touch her, Boss, I swear. We barely even talked.” He looks terrified. In my panic, I didn’t even think about how this must look to him, but I’m enough of an asshole to be amused by his reaction for a second before continuing.
“I know, do you think I would even waste my time talking to you if you did?” I pause, giving him a chance to nod his agreement. “Did you see anyone following you? Get a weird vibe?” I ask him, trying to hide my inner panic. If someone is after Bree I will burn this city to the fucking ground before they get their hands on her.
“No, I didn’t. But to be honest, I was focused on her, she kept handing me shit to carry,” he grumbles, looking both relieved and annoyed at the memory. He quickly remembers who he’s talking to and his face goes blank.
“All right, keep an eye out for anything suspicious and spread the word.” He nods and starts to rise, “Oh and if Declan isn’t with Bree, she doesn’t walk home alone anymore,” I add, waiting for his confirmation before dismissing him. Bree’s going to be pissed, but I don’t give a fuck. My daughter has gone through hell and back and I’m not going to be responsible for another damn thing hurting her. But I can’t control everything, can I? I grimace as this extra burden settles on my shoulders. This is a problem I don’t have the time or patience for right now. My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my thoughts.
On my way to see you xx Lexi
You have got to be fucking kidding me. I start to stand up, planning to tell the guys to tell her I’m not here when my office door is practically kicked open.
“Oh. My. God. I’m so happy to see you, baby!” Lexi shouts in a high pitched voice, slamming the door behind her.
Jesus Christ, she must have texted me when she was already inside the building. This bitch is fucking psychotic.
“What the fuck do you want?” I bark, at the end of my patience with this day, with her, with everything really right now.
“Baby, I missed you!” she purrs making her way toward me.
“Not your baby,” I growl, thankful for the desk between us.
“Ron, you know we have something between us,” she insists, plopping down in one of my leather chairs.
Her cheap perfume permeates the air and I notice she doesn’t look as put together as she usually does. Overall she dresses in what I would say is a classical style, but I can see cracks in her veneer today. If you saw her on the street, you would think she was a soccer mom with her infinity scarf and cardigan. Her eyes give her away though. You can see that crazy coming a mile away. If only I had been paying attention to her the first time I met her. I wish I hadn’t been so nice to her that night she came in with a message from Kella. It was the only way I could think of to get more information from her, information she hadn’t had in the end.
“Look.” I give a deep sigh, hoping it conveys my aggravation. “I told you to lose my number and I meant it. Forget we ever met, okay?” I give her an expectant look.
“You look stressed,” she says, acting like I hadn’t just basically told her to fuck off.
“Listen …” I start, but the office door opens. I jump slightly and reach my hand under my desk where I keep a piece taped to it. No one barges into my office without knocking and twice in a row is unheard of.
I pull my hand back when I see Kella saunter in, looking at Lexi then immediately dismissing her. She makes her way toward my desk, perching on the end of it. She’s trying to look seductive, but it’s obvious she has no practice. Fuck if that doesn’t make the whole thing hotter.
“Who are you?” Lexi hisses, clearly seeing Kella as a threat. I almost give a snort. If only she knew.
Then Lexi’s question hits me. Interesting. Despite using Lexi as a messenger, Kella never let Lexi know her identity. A very smart move indeed.
“Who are you?” Kella replies, the look on her face is benign, but I don’t miss the tension coming from her body. Her eyes are glued to Lexi, ready for an attack.
I should probably try to stop what’s about to happen but I can’t bring myself to care. Something about the way Kella came in here to challenge Lexi is working for me; I mean really working for me.
“I’m Ron’s girlfriend, Lexi,” Lexi says, a fake smile plastered all over her face. She extends her hand to Kella who doesn’t bother to acknowledge it.
“Oh, why didn’t you say so!” Kella says, a brilliant smile on her face before it turns into a sinister grin. She leans in conspiratorially. “This is kind of awkward, you know, me being his side piece and all.”
It takes exactly two seconds for Kella’s words to register in Lexi’s vapid little mind.
“What?!” she screeches, jumping up from her seat. She shoots me a desperate look before turning to face Kella again. “He’s mine, bitch!” She throws her arms in the air in a frantic waving motion. I’d always thought the windmill gesture was more of a joke than an actual move people tried in fights. Apparently, what they say about women fighting is true. Well, average women. Something tells me Kella has never wasted her time in a fight.
Kella takes a step back and gives me a confused look. It takes her a minute to realize she’s trying to swing at her.
“I think she’s trying to fight you,” I say, the laughter bubbling out of my chest before I can stop.
Kella doesn’t answer, simply giving me a bright smile before pulling her fist back, hitting Lexi in the stomach. I hear an “oomph” as Lexi doubles over, holding her stomach in pain.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Kella says, walking past Lexi kicking her in the ass which makes her fall forward.
Lexi catches herself on her hands and looks at me, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Ron …” Lexi whines, slowly raising herself up to stand.
“I told you this wasn’t going to happen.” I motion between us to be clear. “Now you know I mean it. Don’t come back.” I sit down at my desk and ignore her as she gathers her purse and leaves. I know I’m a fucking bastard but I can’t be any other way. Even if I wanted something like that in my life, it would never be with a woman like Lexi.
7
Kella
Today is the day of Ron’s meeting. The day I get to show if I’m going to be a part of this outfit or not. My body is humming with tension. I can’t help but feel as if today is going to make or break me, in more ways than one.
Ron has managed to avoid me for the last few days. You would think the distance would enforce my feelings against joining him, but it’s been the opposite. I miss him and I don’t know why.
Bree, Declan and some of the other guys have mostly made me feel welcome. Jake still stares at me like he wants to kill me, and he probably does, but he hasn’t come after me. His boyfriend, Greg, even smiled at me once, I feel like maybe Jake could come around if I prove to be a team player. But is this what I really want? I feel so conflicted. Belonging to something, anything, is a dream I gave up a long time ago. A dream I gave up for a reason. Not since the last foster home I was placed in have I ever hoped to belong to anything or anyone. With a shuddering breath, I shake those memories away and look at myself in the mirror.
The bathroom attached to my prison of a bedroom doesn’t show me the lower half of my body but the top half doesn’t disappoint. I’ve never been this dressed up in my life. Bre
e curled my hair, the long, light blond strands cascading down my shoulders. I didn’t put on much makeup, just a hint of eyeliner, thick mascara and dark red lipstick. My lips contrast with my pale skin and the beautiful black dress. I feel like a woman, I feel grown up. It’s a new feeling for me, I think part of me has always considered myself still a child despite having been on my own for so long. Ron told me he would come for me in an hour, and I can sense time is almost up, despite not having a clock. I feel nervous and I know it’s not just the meeting making me feel that way. I’m both excited and terrified to be seen looking this way. For Ron to see me this way. It’s a new kind of vulnerable, feeling like a fraud dressed in the queen’s clothes.
I stumble my way back into the bedroom in the four-inch heels Bree brought me yesterday after we confirmed size. I’ve never worn anything in my life but sneakers. I totter like a newborn calf as I barely make it the bed, falling flat on my face into the mattress. I quickly jump up, smoothing out the front of my hair and praying to high heaven I didn’t mess up my makeup. I pull one foot out of the death traps passing as shoes and rub my toes. If this meeting doesn’t kill me, then these heels will.
There’s a knock on the door and I grudgingly slide the shoe back on before slowly rising to my feet.
Ron opens the door before I reach it, walking in and quickly closing it behind him. Despite the fact I’ve been on good behavior since my fight with Jake, he still clearly doesn’t trust me. I awkwardly make my way to him until we’re only a few inches apart. Ron inhales sharply when he gets his first full view of my dress as I stand. He lowers his head and I’m disappointed for a moment, thinking he isn’t as impressed as I wanted him to be. I feel like a stupid little girl playing dress up until I realize he’s still looking. He just wanted to take me in one end to the other. He looks at my feet, giving another sharp exhale before his eyes rise to meet mine. There’s a heat in them that wasn’t there before. I know he can see the same in mine despite my efforts to hide it. He looks powerful tonight. He’s wearing a dark three-piece suit, his cufflinks are covered in diamonds, glinting in the crappy overhead lighting. Everything about him screams dominance.