by Sienna Mynx
***
The sunlight, a soft touch to her closed lids, warmed her face, drawing her out of another fitful sleep. When she slept, she dreamed. When she dreamed, she remembered. Her lashes parted a fraction, and opened. Michelle waited for her vision to adjust to surroundings she didn’t immediately recognize.
Slowly, her mind woke. Her body was the first to sound the alarm. The familiar aches of sex made her thigh muscles tight.
“Lee?”
She found herself alone. Dropping her head to her pillow, she wasn’t surprised. She’d welcomed him in last night, knowing if she did, she’d be his. Rolling over, she sighed. Her hand went over her eyes.
Michelle could feel his phantom thrusts, his kisses, his hands perusing her curves. Hear his voice in her ear, whispering promises she didn’t need. The playback was too much. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and forced him out of her head.
It worked. Michelle sucked in a deep breath and lowered her hands. The covers were gathered at her hip so she crossed her arms over her exposed breasts. There she sat in the center of his bed, completely alone.
The dogs slept, heads tucked under paws, their diamond collars glistening on their necks.
She stared at the patterned molding of the ceiling. His promise: her key. One she planned to use. Sometime in the night, he’d left. She’d felt the bed shift after she’d showered and scrubbed away traces of sex from her skin, heard him breathe a heavy sigh to her refusal to hold him or comfort him. She’d roll over and fuck him but when it was done, so was she. That troubled Lee. It troubled her. Who were they now?
There was a knock at the bedroom door, soft rapping of knuckles. She closed her eyes and ignored it.
“Michelle?” Sasha stuck her head in. “You ’sleep?”
Michelle sighed. “What is it?” Of course it would be her foolish, misunderstood baby sister who was constantly in need of her reassurance. If it weren’t for her promise to Pops to keep Sasha safe, her life would have never made this U-turn.
“Lee’s gone, so I thought maybe we could have breakfast together? To, um, talk?”
Sasha entered and the Dobermans’ heads lifted. Lupe snarled. Evita rose from her corner, ears raised. Her sister stood there frozen in the dogs’ sights. The animals’ bared teeth warned she should not come closer. Michelle didn’t bother to calm them. They wouldn’t attack unless she ordered them to, though her agitation had now become their own.
“Leave,” she exhaled in a throaty, morning voice.
“I know you said…I…I listened to the tape.” Sasha held up the tape recorder. “I heard Pops’ final words…it was so hard to hear him again.”
How many times in that hospital had she replayed the message left for her on the tape recorder? Listened to her father’s words and remembered all the years before. The ones minus the diamond chase, when it was just Pops who made pancakes and helped her and Sasha with their homework. Living out of motels where she, at only nine, had to clean up his vomit and feed her baby sister from vending machines.
Eventually, Pops progressed to better jobs, where she and Sasha attended private schools and were chauffeured around in limos. And Pops’ gambling debts would yo-yo them from rags to riches. Those were the sweet times in between the chaos, when they had a place of their own, rooms of their own, and a father who combed their hair and danced with them to tunes on his favorite transistor radio. It would all crumble in a blink when the drinking and gambling started up again and they would be on the run. Memories. Michelle had more than she cared to carry.
“I miss him, too,” Sasha said.
Michelle chuckled. She narrowed her scope of vision to the recorder and lifted her gaze to Sasha. She wasn’t as sharply dressed as before. No, her sister arrived free of makeup, her hair flat and listless. She wore a white shirt and blue jeans. She looked as she did when they were just Pops’ girls.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through these past weeks. All the heartache you’ve suffered. But it’s over now. Even Lee says so. That score, it was the biggest. It was nirvana….” Sasha sighed. She took another step and Evita barked and snarled. Immediately, Sasha stilled. “I wish there was something I could do or say.”
“There isn’t.”
Sasha’s gaze roamed from the sheets, Michelle’s disheveled hair, her partial nudity, and then to the dogs. “So, um…you two together?”
Michelle laughed. “You could say that.”
“You watch the news? The Feds made an arrest. Some nobody trying to take your shine, claiming he did the job all by himself. As if he could! He confessed. Can you believe they are buying that bullshit?”
Michelle looked on.
“Do you hate me? Is it that bad between us?”
“No. It’s worse because I don’t feel much of anything anymore.”
“I—”
“Don’t bother. If you listened to the tape, you know what Pops wanted. His warning…so it’s like this, little sister. Pack a bag. You get your start-over. I paid for it in blood.”
“Start over? What are you talking about?”
Michelle drew the sheet away and rose from the bed, nude. Evita walked over, sniffing at her feet. She stretched and looked to Sasha as if she just remembered her presence. “Lee’s letting you go.”
“Go? Where…? I don’t want to go.”
“That was the deal, Sasha. You’re going to be free.”
“And you, what about you?” Sasha stepped cautiously forward.
Michelle stroked the top of the dog’s head. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I always land on my feet.” She turned and went to the bathroom without a backward glance. Behind the closed door, she waited and listened for the bedroom door to close. When it did, she exhaled. Michelle stepped to the mirror and faced herself, something she was finding increasingly hard to do.
***
“He’s overseas, Lee. What the fuck do you expect? The man isn’t stupid.”
“Retribution. Revenge. Do I need to run it down for you? He made a play against my family, almost cost me my woman.” Lee clenched his fist. He held tight to his anger. Maintaining his outward sense of control took more strength than he’d initially imagined.
“Ah, so it’s all about Chocolat.” Escobar’s gaze sharpened. His irises glimmered like cut onyx. “How is your diamond star?”
“Recovering,” Lee said in a stilted breath. He was no fool. Word traveled fast in their world. Michelle had done the impossible. Her latest heist made her the most hunted and desired thief among them. Protecting her would now have to be his life’s work—and he could fail. He sensed it.
“Cumminskey. I want to know where he’s hiding. Who’s protecting him?”
“Right, the motherfucker went too far.” Escobar nodded. He drank a bit of his scotch. The amber liquid glistened in the glass and the ice cubes clinked. Escobar released a satisfied sigh. “I agree he’s got someone helping him. I doubt it’s one of our own. Everyone’s pissed about Rawhead.”
His clenched fist, a tense ball of fury, relaxed. Lee exhaled his frustration and blinked the weary dryness from his eyes. He hadn’t slept. After making love to her until she refused his touch, he lay in the darkness and watched her. She didn’t know him. None of them did. The lengths he’d go to avenge their child knew no bounds.
One quick glance at the time on his watch confirmed he needed to end this meeting. Michelle would be up soon. He wanted to be there when she woke. Hold her a little longer. Lee looked over to Escobar when he spoke. “We do what we do with immunity because we believe in the code. Cumminskey doesn’t. He knows too much about us all, about The Order, to be allowed to run rogue. He needs to be dealt with. He’s put us all at risk.”
“Like breaking into the Briscol Bank puts us all at risk?” Escobar slipped Lee an icy, accusatory glare.
“The murder of Rawhead goes against the grain. There’s no harmony in our business now, Escobar.”
Escobar took another sip of scotch. The men sat i
n silence for a long pause. “How about you do some house-cleaning of your own first, before you make demands?” His coal-black gaze returned to Lee. “Cumminskey didn’t strike against you cold. Someone gave him the heat. Told him the inside plans of your operation. You expect us to help you deal with this mess when you got a traitor in your ranks?”
“You got a name?”
“Look to your left hand,” Escobar drawled. “I hear he’s the one that gave you up.”
“Hear anything else?”
“Not enough to confirm it. Word has it another player is moving in on us all. Nigerians who happen to be fond of scorpions. Think about it, Lee, who on your team has the balls to go after you from the inside?”
Lee shifted in his seat. He felt a tightening in his throat. Abahti had proved to be the most loyal of anyone he’d known since Pops. He’d trust him with his life. But the life of his woman? He had begun to wonder.
“You plan to deal with this?” Escobar pressed. A wicked smirk played at the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll handle it. I want a drop on Cumminskey first. He’s a wild card for us all and you know it.”
“Since you scored the Chalice?” Escobar smirked.
“Let’s say I rolled sevens. I got the power, the woman, the Chalice.” Lee locked eyes with Escobar. “Doesn’t make me weak. That kind of luck makes a man dangerous. Anybody goes after Chocolat or another member of my family and they’ll find out how dangerous.” Lee reached for the door handle. “Get me the information I need. Tell them all it’s on me.”
“Fuck yeah it is, hombre…all on you.”
That said, he exited the limo and crossed the parking lot to the open door of his chauffeured car. Easing inside next to Abahti, he cut him a look. “Any word on how Cumminskey knew about the heist? Who in my organization gave me up?”
“No. Working on it.”
Lee stared a minute longer. “Of course you are.”
***
The knock was the same. Two knocks followed by three repeated ones. That’s all it took. You had to be a regular of the Snow White to know the passkey. Kumar’s eyes slipped past a young woman strolling down the hall. In these projects, a baby carriage could be misleading. She wore a puffed jacket and hood, large gold hoop earrings with her name written in cursive through the middle. She popped her gum and gave him the eye but kept going. He let go of the breath he was holding.
A trip downtown this time of day was the only good way he could score. Dealers, his in particular, had an aversion to daylight. He’d be lucky if anyone answered.
The slot at the door slid open.
“Yo?”
He just slipped in a tight roll of bills.
The slot closed.
Kumar waited.
The slot opened and his goodie bag was tossed. It’s how it went. Easy and clean. No hassle. He shoved the plastic baggie in his front jean pocket, popped the collar to his jacket, and poked his hands in the pockets. He dashed out the way he came, down the cramped hall and along the stairs. Slipping through the door, he realized the risk was greater than it ever had been. If Lee ever uncovered his secret, he’d be a dead man. And Kumar refused to think of a life without Sasha. Betraying her trust worried him more than Lee. Without her love, he’d been a dead man walking.
In the brisk morning, Kumar strode hurriedly along the sidewalk to his parked car. He barely noticed the dark sedan moving up the street. He fished in his pocket for his cell phone, which had started to buzz with life.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” Sasha sniffed.
“Ah, had to make a run, equipment check. What’s up?”
“Come home. I need you.”
“Chocolat still freezing you out?”
“Yeah. But something’s up. She says that she and Lee are sending me away.”
“What?” Kumar stopped. A struggle raged between his ears as his mind grappled with truth versus fantasy. They were to leave, on his terms, and return to India. But how could he make it happen when he still couldn’t let go of smack? “You sure?”
“It’s going down, Kumar. We got to talk to Lee. If I’m out, you have to be, too. I won’t go anywhere without you.”
Kumar fiddled with his keys. The phone pressed to his ear. When he tried for the lock to his car door, the keys dropped. “I’m on my way. Give me ten minutes, okay?”
“Yes. Please. Hurry.”
The keys had fallen just beyond his reach. Kumar tucked the phone in his jacket pocket and knelt. He stretched his fingers under the shadow of the car with his hand pressed firm to the door to maintain his balance. His eyes were level with two pairs of approaching feet. They stopped. Didn’t pass. He hooked a finger in the key ring and dragged it closer, buying time to think. If this proved to be a robbery he’d just give it up without argument. No fight, no fuss. It was daylight so it couldn’t be worse than that. Could it? His gaze lifted to two burly, hard, packing motherfuckers dressed clean. Not hoods. These men towered over him with curious, hateful glares. They weren’t Lee’s men. He knew all those boys. Who were they?
“What’s going on?”
No sooner did he ask the question did he see past the strangers to a familiar face. Monk Eastman was the head of the Kosher Nostra, the area’s Jewish equivalent to La Cosa Nostra. He dealt more in the trade and exchange of rare stolen goods like the Chalice, or the Jesus Stones. Lee had told him Monk was one of the few men who could push hot merchandise and bring in the dough, clean. Kumar heard the rumors, too. That Monk was in possession of jewels and priceless artifacts stolen from the Nazis when Hitler’s regime fell.
Monk gave him an obligatory nod. No one else spoke. The message was clear. Kumar sucked in a deep breath and forced his trembling hands into his jacket pockets. He walked toward the awaiting car.
What did Monk want with him?
How could he possibly get out of this now?
***
Michelle’s stroll ended at the doors of the veranda. Evita ran out ahead along the side of the pool. Lupe walked lazily behind her. The sun glistened over the calm, turquoise waters, making the gentle waves reflect her passing image like glass. She wondered if dogs missed her or followed and tracked her under their master’s orders.
“You hungry?”
She heard him behind her. She pushed her hands into her front jean pockets “Why is it every time you find me you ask me if I’ve eaten?”
“Because I care.”
She didn’t respond. Lee came out from whatever shadow he watched her from. She didn’t know, didn’t care. His arrival was expected.
“Prague.”
“Prague?”
“It’s where I’m taking Sasha. How much time do you need to set it up?”
“A week or two.”
“Good.”
The animals turned and saw Lee; both bitches ran over to him, vying for attention. She glanced to see him stooping. He petted and stroked Evita first, and next Lupe. The animals panted and pranced like puppies. All the while he kept his gaze trained on her.
“Let me take you to lunch,” he said.
“No thanks.”
“We need to talk. Really talk.”
“No thanks.”
“Enough of this shit!” Lee stood. “Get dressed. We’re going out.” He turned and left, with both Lupe and Evita whining behind him. Michelle’s gaze swept the landscaping beyond his property. Prague was beautiful this time of year. But it could be the Sahara for all she cared. Nothing about what she had planned for Prague brought her any pleasure, including the fact that she would cause him more pain.
***
“Kumar, we haven’t formally met. I’m—”
“Monk Eastman. I know who you are,” Kumar said in an unsteady voice. He glanced to the passenger window. He was imprisoned inside with the older gangster, who was rumored to dispose of those who disappointed him in the most brutal ways. Monk Eastman had icy gray irises that made his unnaturally pale face and skeleton bone structure remind Kumar
of an undertaker. He wore gray dress slacks and a dark blue shirt. His hair long, brushing his shoulders, had a dark luster to it. Kumar suspected he dyed it black regularly. When Kumar’s gaze lowered to Monk’s hands, he noticed both his pinky fingernails were long and sharpened with points.
“So you’re the guy? The tech who wired and cracked the defenses of the Briscol Bank. I’m impressed.” Monk drummed his nails against his knee.
“I’m not the guy.”
“Don’t shit a bullshitter. I wasn’t asking you to confirm what I already know.”
Kumar swallowed. “Why am I here?”
“Why did I want to meet?” Monk inhaled a deep breath and looked out of the window. “Hear you got an itch that you can’t help but scratch. Hear it’s getting stronger.”
“No…no, I was visiting a friend.
Monk smiled and those cool gray eyes returned to Kumar. He shivered under the chilling malevolence glistening in their depths. “Like I said, don’t shit a bullshitter.”
Kumar swallowed the excuses he’d given Sasha and even Pops when they suspected him to be slipping. What was the point? If Monk caught him coming out of the dealer’s place, the man already knew more than he could afford. “I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. Especially since Lee isn’t hip to it. Is he?”
“He…I do my job and I do it well.”
“Good,” Monk said. “Very good to hear. I have a job for you.”
“I can’t. I-I-I work for Lee,” Kumar stammered. He inched closer to the door; his hand instinctively went to the release. He could bolt from the car but he doubt he’d get far. Still, his instinct said running would be the safest option at this point.
“Do you?” Monk gave a deep chuckle, making his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. He sat with his knees parted and smiled. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“For how much longer? After Lee learns the truth, that you were using the night his chocolate jewel thief got made, you think you’ll still be employed? Those alarms rang too soon, Kumar. It was an amateurish mistake, not one of your caliber…unless? Maybe you made the mistake on purpose? Hoping Lee would downgrade you, put you out of the business? I hear you got a fondness for the younger Dixon. Ah, her name escapes me…oh yes! Sasha.”