by Skye,Marie
"Non salire sul mio conto. Per favore, stare seduti." Don't get up on my account. Please, stay seated.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Che diavolo ci fai qui Mandrake? Tante accuse ho potuto premere contro di voi in questo momento. Irrompere e entrare! Non sei il benvenuto qui a casa mia!" What the hell are you doing here, Mandrake? So many charges I could press against you right now. Breaking and entering! You are not welcome here in my home!
I took a seat in the nearest chair. "Oh really? While you're at it, you can tell them about the kidnapping of my wife. I'm sure they would love to hear that story, wouldn't you think? I know I would." I reached into my pocket, pulling on my black leather gloves. I took the 9mm out of my inner pocket and slowly put the silencer on it, keeping my gaze affixed on his.
I was dead fucking serious. Only one of us was leaving that apartment, whether I had the answers I needed or not.
Chapter Eight
Chace
The moment Grayson said Carmen was alive, I knew he was going to do something he may live to regret one day, and I couldn't get to the other side of the pond fast enough. I checked my watch. It was an eight-hour flight, and I'd been in the air for a little over five hours. Anything could've happened in that time.
I shuddered to think what. It was a really good time for a line. I dug out the small vial I carried in my pocket and held it up. The white powder stared at me, and I could feel myself salivating. In my other pocket, I fingered the coin and pulled it out. Six months sober. It would be a shame to let that hard work go to waste. I sighed, dropped my head back against the headrest, and placed the vial back in my pocket.
“Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Cartwright?”
My eyes opened at the flight attendant in front of me. I noticed how the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem for me. “I’ll take a glass of ice, and an ice cream sandwich.”
She gave me a weird look before leaving. The ice chips helped with my cravings; the ice cream sandwich was just because I fucking loved them. I stretched out to mentally prepare myself for what was ahead.
Chapter Nine
Grayson
Three hours. I finally emerged from Dale’s flat three hours later. I walked out into a treacherous downpour, but that wasn’t why I was shaking. Hawkins and Benson greeted me immediately. No words were exchanged between us, just a look—a look that said it all. Benson said something into a hidden microphone and two other guys dressed in black appeared out of nowhere, entered the flat, and shut the door; the last sound I heard was the lock being clicked.
“The rest will be handled, Grayson,” Hawkins assured me as he grabbed me by the bicep, leading me to a nearby car down the street.
I felt myself moving, but a part of me felt numb inside. By the time I reached my suite, it was almost three in the morning. I took off my gloves shakily and stared at myself in the mirror, looking at the man I had become. Was I disgusted with myself? Did I feel any shame or remorse for my actions? I went over and poured myself a drink, immediately followed by another. My thoughts turned to Emmalin, the one person I needed in life I had fucked up sorely.
I sighed. As I took off my hoodie, I immediately noticed a spot of blood I hadn’t seen before. I immediately jumped up, took off all my clothes, and went to the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up. I needed to scrub it all away. I needed to scrub my skin raw until it bled. I sank down to the floor of the shower.
“So, you’re here to do what you’ve been wanting to do all along.” Dale leaned back in his chair and placed his arms behind his head. I crossed my legs at the knee.
“Why do you have Carmen?”
He stilled before shaking his head and laughing. He stood up, walking slowly to the built-in bookcase in the far wall, and grabbed a book. I watched his every move. “Do you read, Mandrake? This is my favorite book. The Catcher in the Rye. Brilliant book. If you haven’t read it already, I highly recommend it.” He sat the book down on the coffee table in front of me. “Can I get you a drink? Perhaps some tea?” When I didn’t say anything, he crossed back over to his chair and slumped down. “So she finally told you.”
His statement didn’t come out as a question; I knew he was referring to Emmalin. I thought back to what Ruska had said about Dale giving her something. The sound of Dale clapping his hands together had me tightening my grip around the pistol as I focused on him.
He sipped from his cup. “You guys were so young back then, weren’t you? Maybe even a tad bit naïve in your youth. Carmen had you with the sway of her hips and luscious lips. She did anything you wanted, didn’t she, Mandrake? Anything. You. Wanted. We both know how rough you liked it, even back then—isn’t that right?” He reached over to the small table next to his cup and grabbed a Toscani cigar and lighter. “She hated it, you know. She hated you.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “She would come home each night, disgusted with you, but as I overheard her say to one of her girlfriends, she ‘loved the mind-blowing orgasms.’” He let out another laugh as he blew another puff of smoke.
“You started getting pretty good at your game of cards, then really fucking good. You were also business savvy, which was great. I liked that. My business was failing because I had two extra mouths to feed taking care of Carmen and Lydia, so I didn’t have much time to devote to it.”
He stood up and walked over to a small bar, pouring himself a drink. He motioned to me and I shook my head, so he continued. “I was losing clients left and right, and therefore, I was losing money. And what does a man hate to lose, Mandrake? Money. You also started attracting the attention of those around you, and Carmen took notice.” He gave me a wry smile.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “So far your story doesn’t mean shit to me Dale. Carmen and I were very happy together.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “No, Mandrake! That’s what she wanted you to believe. She wanted you to think you were happy. Don’t you get it? Don’t you fucking get it yet? Carmen didn’t want you. Your relationship wasn’t real. Think about it. She was the one that wanted to drive all the way across the country to elope. Carmen hated driving long distance. You knew that, but now all of a sudden she wanted to drive? Come on.”
He walked back over to the bookcase, grabbed a hidden file wedged between the books, and threw it on the table. “We had a life insurance policy drawn up on you, to cover things in the event of your untimely death.” He laughed maniacally as I stared at the documents in front of me. I remembered Carmen’s handwriting, and staring at me, in black and fucking white, was her signature, dated a few days before we had gotten married.
“That accident was no accident Mandrake. You weren’t supposed to live.” He sighed. “Carmen was a gold-digging whore, and you were too blinded by her mediocre tits to notice.”
My hand tightened around the gun I still held in my hand as I tried to process everything he had just told me. “How does Lydia play in all of this?”
He shrugged. “She doesn’t. Innocent bystander that had a crush on you.”
He poured himself another drink. “How does it feel, knowing the one person in your entire life that did love you, left you? It was so fucking easy too, presenting all of that to her. She looked like a little scared rabbit. Do you know how wonderful it felt taking her happiness away?”
I felt my blood boil as he started to taunt me. “I went and saw her after she moved. I’d been dying to taste her since the day I met her. She put up one hell of a fight. She made me work for it. But we both know how I like them feisty don’t I Mandrake? I like it when they scream.” He turned around and faced me. “She smells like lavender up close, and her cunt tastes like sweet cherries when you lick her.”
All I saw was red.
I kicked the table out of the way as I grabbed him and threw him to the floor. He barely got a hit in as my fist pounded into his face over and over again until I could barely make out his features. I barely registered someone grabbing me off of him until I
realized I was moving farther away from Dale. As I realized I was being removed, I scrambled off Hawkins once it dawned on me that he was the one that had pulled me away.
“Get the fuck off of me, and get out!”
“Grayson.”
“I said get the fuck out. I’m not done here.” My voice was low and deadly, and I had no problem shooting Hawkins, if need be. He held up his hands as he slowly walked out of the room, not taking his eyes off of me, and locked the door again.
I turned my attention back to Dale, who lay bloody on the floor. He was still alive, and laughing maniacally. I walked over to him and straddled him.
“Look at me.”
He continued to laugh.
“I said look at me, you useless piece of shit.”
He finally opened his eyes as best he could—they were both practically swollen shut. I had the gun pointed firmly against his chest. “You’re a fucking disease, Ferguson.”
He continued to laugh. “Fuck you, Mandrake!”
I smiled as I punched him again. I leaned over him, putting all my weight on the upper part of his body. His eyes grew wide, staring at me as his breathing started to restrict.
“Hey Dale? Fuck you.”
Click.
I stared down at my hands. It was like I couldn't scrub them clean enough, no matter what I did. After I had made sure he was looking me in the eyes, I’d pulled that trigger and felt the vibration of the gun. The bullet had pierced through his chest, shattering his bones and slicing through his heart. I felt relief, and that's what I didn't understand—I didn't feel a single bit of remorse for my actions. I was calm, relaxed even.
It was his goading indication that he had touched Emmalin that had set me off. Could he have been lying to get me to kill him? Of course. I knew he had been lying. Dale hadn’t so much as gotten within a mile of Emmalin; I would’ve known about it if he had. I’ve had eyes on her ever since she’d walked out that front door months ago. I knew who she talked to. I knew who went near her. I even knew what time she turned out the lights in her apartment. I did it to make sure she was fucking safe.
I picked up the gun that was now cold and had Dale's blood on it. I slid down the wall in the corner of the room, and just sat and stared at it. Maybe I should warm it up again with my own blood.
Hours must've passed, and my thoughts were jerked away by the sound of my door opening and then quickly shutting. I still held the gun firm. My eyes looked up and were immediately met by the concerned eyes of Chace. He looked me up and down then his eyes landed on the gun in my hands. I didn't know when I had turned the gun on myself in the hours I’d sat there, but at that point I was angry to see him standing there. Had he touched Emmalin? Had he touched what was fucking mine? If he had, I was sure hers weren't screams of torment, but screams of pure ecstasy.
"Grayson."
I eyed him precariously as he walked carefully toward me. My hand tightened around the gun. "What do you want?" My voice was gruff, and I ached all over.
"You sounded like you could use a friend."
I smirked as I looked away from him. "You're using that word loosely."
He lowered himself in front of me, slowly. I hadn't noticed that Hawkins had come in behind him. I should’ve known he’d call for backup. Bastard.
"I didn't ask you to come here."
He nodded. "I know, but here I am. We're brothers, remember?"
My gaze snapped back to his at that word. He may as well have slit my throat. I narrowed my eyes. "Did you fuck her?"
He pursed his lips as he studied me. "No, Grayson. I did not."
We stared at each other. I always knew if and when Chace was lying to me; he had a way about him. After a beat, I finally asked the question that had been egging me on. "Do you love her?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes. She's like the sister I never had." He gave me a small smile. He reached over slowly and placed his hand over the gun, putting the safety back on and gently removing it from my hands. He handed it to Hawkins, who gave me a brief nod before putting it in his inner jacket pocket and leaving as quietly as he had come in.
Chace sagged against the wall next to me. Neither one of us spoke. At times like this, it was just best not to.
Chapter Ten
Emmalin
I was watching Shawn of the Dead for the millionth time when a knock on my door interrupted me. My first thought was to crawl ninja style on the floor as quietly as I could and peek out the peephole. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I was in yoga pants, my hair was in a horrifying messy bun, and I had a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the table that I was really looking forward to finishing.
The knock came again. I reluctantly got up and reached for the bat I kept at the side of the couch before I walked quietly to the door. I reached up on my toes to peek out the peephole and gasped upon seeing who was on the other side of the door. Meredith. My gasping caused me to drop my bat, and I heard her say my name. Dammit.
I slowly opened the door and she peered around the corner at the same time I did.
“Emmalin?”
I cleared my throat as I tried to smooth back my hair. “Meredith. Hi.”
She gave me a warm smile, her blue eyes sparkling. “Hi. Sorry to intrude like this.”
I opened the door wider. “It’s okay. Come in.” I motioned her in and she entered. I was suddenly nervous. “Um…can I get you something? Water? Tea?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you.”
I nodded. “Great, I’ll get you some tea. Have a seat.” I motioned toward the sofa as I walked out of the living room. She gave me an odd look as I went to the kitchen. Yeah, I knew she had said she was fine, but I wasn’t. I needed the distraction. What was she doing at my apartment? I busied myself as I heated two cups in the microwave. I was so flustered I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I peered around the doorway from the kitchen, and I saw that she was sitting prim and proper with her hands folded in her lap, gazing at the yelling going on the TV. Oh crap! I had left the movie playing. I hurried to grab the mugs out the microwave and placed a teabag in each of them. I looked around the kitchen. I didn’t even have a tray to place them on. I grabbed the biggest plate I had and placed the cups on it, surprisingly managing to not spill them, and also added some creamer and sweetener. I grabbed another small plate and poured some Nilla Wafers on it then shakily carried them into the living room.
She looked up at me and smiled as I sat the big plate down and handed her a mug. “You really didn’t have to go through all that trouble, Emmalin. Thank you.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I only have sweetener instead of sugar for the tea.”
She shook her head. “This is perfect actually. Thank you.”
We sat in quiet, with just the noise from us sipping our tea and the occasional munching on the Nilla Wafers. I had turned down the sound from the movie, but it hadn’t occurred to me to actually turn the movie off.
“Noah loves these cookies. Of course, I can’t make a banana pudding to save my life.”
I looked at her as she held a cookie in her hand. I thought back on probably the one remaining memory I had left of my own mom, the one memory I allowed myself to have.
“Never make banana pudding using boxed pudding. It’s cheap and disgusting. No one wants that.” I nodded as I watched her line up can after can of condensed milk along the counter in the kitchen. “Always make your custard from scratch. That’s the secret. It’ll be the first to go.” I smiled as she touched my nose with the tip of her finger before she opened the cans, poured them into a pot, and started stirring.
“So, I know you’re wondering about the elephant in the room…the elephant being me.” I focused my attention back on Meredith as she set her mug back down on the coffee table and gave a light laugh.
I cleared my throat. “A little. Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but I am wondering what you’re doing here.”
She turned to face me, her expression growing serious.
“I want you to know, first and foremost, that Grayson didn’t send me. In fact, he doesn’t know I’m here, but I wanted to talk to you, and I’m hoping you will hear me out. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”
I swallowed nervously as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I didn’t know what, if anything she knew, or what Grayson had told her—if he had told her anything at all.
“Emmalin, do you remember when Grayson brought you to meet us? That was a turning point for him. We haven’t seen him so happy in a very long time, and frankly we didn’t think we would ever see it again. He’s learned to restrain himself from ever feeling attached to someone. He hides himself, and you found him.” She took a moment and sighed. “I know, maybe I’m not using the right words here, or all of this sounds ridiculous, but he’s my only brother, and I love him, and I hate seeing him hurt.”
I recoiled at those last words. She was there to defend him, broken-hearted Grayson. She didn’t know anything that had gone on, because he hadn’t told her anything. Not a single damn thing. I shut my eyes as they began to well with tears, thinking of everything I’d gone through by myself since leaving.
“Take another big breath Emmalin. You’ll feel some pressure.” I squeezed my eyes shut and took a big breath as Dr. Owens did her exam. It didn’t matter how big of a breath I took; the pressure still caused an excruciating amount of pain. “There, there, all finished. You’re healing nicely. You can sit up now.” She let down the stirrups as the nurse helped me sit up. “There’s still some scarring, and that may never go away, but the removal of that fallopian tube was necessary, and I’m glad we did it. Are you still having some cramping?”
“A little bit, but the ibuprofen helps.”
She nodded as she typed something in the computer. “If you need something stronger, let me know. Also, try a warm compress—it will help alleviate the pain as well.”