Flesh Into Fire (Original Sin Book 3)

by JA Huss

  “Tyler?” she asks.

  I turn. “Yeah?”

  “Is she really visiting her parents?”

  It’s an odd thing for her to ask, but then it strikes me that maybe it’s not. God knows what this girl has been through herself. What she’s seen. What she understands. I don’t know her. I don’t know anything about her except that she’s a girl who went to college with Maddie and now she’s a prostitute. That’s it. And I can make lots of assumptions about her based on that limited knowledge, but is that fair?

  And I have this sudden urge to ask her lots of things about herself. Connect with her somehow. Open myself up and get to know her and let her know me and tell her what’s happening with Maddie, even though I was told not to, and bring her on the inside. Because who knows? Maybe there’s some unknown, unseen, impossible-to-foretell way that she could help this situation. Maybe she’s been here, hanging in the background all this time, but she’s actually the one person who could fix all of our problems.

  Is that possible? Is that crazy? Is it just that when shit gets really, really bad and we feel adrift, we look for any possible, hidden shoreline to cling to? Or is it just that Maddie is alone right now? Maddie is in God knows what kind of situation as we speak. And my imagination is about to start racing toward places that I don’t wanna let it.

  “Tyler?” she interrupts my thoughts.

  “Yeah? Sorry. What?”

  “Is Maddie really visiting her parents?”

  I stare at her for another second before saying, “Merry Christmas, Diane,” and turn and walk out the door.

  I keep looking at my wrist, but I don’t have my watch. It won’t be night for hours, so I won’t have a chance to even know what’s going on. But if I don’t do something with myself I’m gonna crawl out of my skin.

  Totally by accident, I drive by Pete’s. Or what used to be Pete’s. They’ve started to do the clean-up. There are a couple of dump trucks filled with the detritus, and it dawns on me that Pete is probably in one of them. Pete and Carolina. Mixed and mingled and together forever. Flesh into fire into ash into eternity.

  Maybe some of their shared ashes will get blown into the wind and carried someplace nice. Someplace exotic. Fiji. Bora-Bora. Maybe they’ll settle into the earth and become part of the soil there. Maybe a tree will grow from the place where they land, and maybe that tree will produce coconuts or bananas or some shit, and maybe one of the coconuts or bananas or whatever will then feed and nourish a kid who will eventually grow up to become a doctor who cures cancer.

  Maybe.

  I don’t know if I believe in reincarnation, but if we never cease to be and our energy, our life force, just goes on and on and on, then that means that everyone who has ever lived is in us and we are a part of everyone else, and all of us are coconuts and all of us have the power to cure cancer.

  And all of us are strippers. And all of us are sitting outside of Raven’s house right now without being completely sure how we got here.

  What?

  Did I drive here? I must have. Fuck. Wasn’t I just outside Pete’s? Did I lose time? Like I was doing a while ago? Like I was a few… weeks? Ago? Or was it months? Or— Shit! Losing time is something I really thought that I was done with now.

  I wish my watch was here.

  Regardless, I’m sitting in front of Raven’s house. I should go ring the bell, I suppose. She looks like she’s home. There’s a car in the driveway. What am I going to say if I ring the bell and she answers?

  I decide to find out.

  The cathedral chime finishes ding-donging, and no one comes to the door. I wonder whether I should be one of those assholes who peeks through windows and wanders around outside someone’s house looking to see if they’re inside. Or if I should be one of those assholes who rings a doorbell repeatedly even though it’s a loud doorbell and if someone was inside, they clearly would’ve heard it. At the end of the day, I decide to just be the asshole I am naturally, and go.

  I turn to leave, but only make it two steps down the walkway when the door opens behind me. “I swear to God, if you fuckin’ carolers—” Raven is standing there in a short kimono thing, not dissimilar to the one she was wearing the night she came out to talk to me in the parking lot of Pete’s. It may, in fact, be the same one.

  “Tyler,” she says. “Where’s Maddie?”

  Something about that makes me very happy. No. Not something. Everything. Because it implies that Maddie should be with me. It implies that Maddie and I are a package deal. And it also probably implies what the fuck are you, a dude I don’t really know, doing at my house without your lady friend? Which you gotta respect.

  “She’s…” I start. “She had to leave town for a couple days.”

  “Yeah?” asks Raven, pulling her kimono tighter around her. “K. Whattayou need?”

  “I… dunno,” I admit. “Honestly, I didn’t even really know I was coming here. Just sorta happened.”

  She squints at me and nods her head. “K. So, now that you’re here, what’s up?”

  “Nothin’,” I tell her. “Seriously, nothin’. I’m just… bored. Or something and thought—” And that’s when I see a figure moving behind her in the open doorway. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know you were… I’ll get going.” And once again, I turn to start off down the walkway, and once again I’m stopped by someone calling out my name.

  “Tyler?”

  And when I turn around, I see…

  Brandon.

  “Uh, hey, dude,” I sort of stutter out.

  “You good?” he asks. “What’re you doing here?”

  Questions and information collide in my brain. Unless Brandon has been talking to the other guys at the station—and I know that isn’t happening—he doesn’t actually know about Maddie and the DEA. And also, why isn’t Brandon wearing a shirt? And also, what the fuck is happening right now?

  That question makes its way out of my mouth in the form of, “I didn’t know you guys, uh… knew… each other.”

  Raven answers, “We met the night you guys came to the club the first time. You remember. It was the night Maddie sucked your cock.”

  That’s so Raven.

  “Oh,” I say as nonchalantly as I can. “Yeah, well…”

  “We exchanged numbers then,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “You did?” I’m shocked for like three reasons.

  “Yeah,” she says. “But shy boy here didn’t do shit with it until I showed up the morning of the fire.”

  I look at Brandon, who shrugs.

  Raven continues with, “I was surprised to see him. I didn’t know he was a firefighter. But whattayou know? He is, and then, yadda, yadda, yadda. And now we’re… friends.”

  I look at Brandon again and he shrugs again. Nobody knows anybody. Not really. That’s what he said to me in the park. Well. That’s clearly true, as it turns out.

  “So, what do you need?” she asks. “You seriously just bored? What do you want? Come in and play Parcheesi or some shit?”

  “No, no,” I tell her. “No. I’m good. I’ll amuse myself some other way.”

  “Yeah? Because we’ve got the board all set up!”

  Ha. I really, really like Raven. And a huge part of me does want to come in and be a massive imposition, but not really. And I don’t even wanna begin to try and imagine what exactly I’m interrupting. Because I have a wee bit of a glimpse into Brandon finally, but I know I’m still a long way from getting the whole story. And I don’t wanna jump straight to whatever kinda freaky sex he and a ball-buster like Raven might be having.

  “No. Thanks, I’m good. I’m just making the rounds, as it were.” And suddenly, I’m overtaken with the urge to smile huge. And so I do.

  “Fuck are you grinnin’ at, shit-eater?” she snaps.

  I shake my head. “Nothin’. You guys have a good Christmas.”

  “OK!” she says sarcastically. “You too!” And as she turns to head back inside, leaving Brandon th
ere looking at me, he gives me a small half-wave/half-salute and for a second, I can almost swear the hint of a smile creeps onto his lips before he shuts the door.

  I laugh to myself all the way back to the car. Until I sit in the driver’s seat, close the door, and glance up to see the setting sun. The day is almost over. And from here on out the only thing I’m going to be able to think about until I get word that she’s OK is what might be happening, at every second, to Maddie.

  Chapter Fourteen - Maddie

  I’m disappointed in Carlos. Not for all the usual reasons, like he’s a drug lord, or he’s crazy, or he’s lying about the money I don’t owe him. It’s because he’s actually… kinda good-looking in his swim trunks. Like either Carlos had some surgery and works out daily with a personal trainer, or he’s just one of those men who naturally gets better with age. Not that I’ve seen pictures of him young or anything, but…

  Jesus Christ. I can’t believe I’m having this internal monologue.

  Just say it, Devil says. He’s kinda hot for an old guy.

  Angel pops up on my shoulder making gagging noises.

  I brush them both away by waving my hands, which makes Carlos look over at me and smile. He’s talking on the phone on the other side of the pool. There’s a little waterfall dumping cold water into the hot tub just a few feet away from me, so I can’t hear anything. Which is dumb. Because the whole point of pool day with the drug lord is to hear shit.

  But I just sorta got him to trust me a little and if I ease into his private shit too soon, he’s gonna figure out he’s getting played. Ricky was right, Carlos is one paranoid motherfucker. He’s always looking at the sky like bombs are about to rain down on us. So even though I think I did a kick-ass job at convincing him I’m just another money-grubbing bitch out to use him for his money and power, he’s not really buying it. He’s naturally suspicious. And there’s a part of him that just knows this is all wrong.

  I sold him a chance, that’s all. A few days at most to feel each other out. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that I’ll be spending Christmas here. Which totally sucks because it would’ve been nice to have Christmas with someone I love, for the first time in years.

  With Tyler, Angel says.

  Yeah, with Tyler. I sigh, closing my eyes to stare up at the hot Mexican sun. But Christmas Eve is tomorrow and there’s no fucking way in hell he’s gonna trust me enough to get what I need by tomorrow.

  The brightness shining down through my closed eyes dims from a shadow standing over me. I open them to find Carlos, no longer on the phone, standing directly in my rays, holding out his hand. “Swim with me, Madison.”

  It’s fucking hot as hell out today. I mean, I know this is Mexico and all, but it’s like almost a hundred degrees and sweat is pooling behind my back and under my legs so a swim would be refreshing.

  It’s just… getting wet and then getting out and then having him look at me…

  “No, I’m good,” I say.

  Carlos snaps his fingers. Not at me, but some servant standing off to this left wearing full-on servant attire. Dark pants, white button-down shirt, Christmas tartan tie, and holiday festive sport coat. He must be dying in that uniform. “Miguel,” Carlos says, “prepara el badminton.”

  I start to object because playing aquatic badminton with a drug lord is ridiculous. But so is everything about all of this. And Miguel snaps his fingers at some other servants and they’re already jumping into the pool (fully clothed in the same uniform as Miguel) dragging a net across the center.

  I really do want to get in the pool to cool off.

  Well, I’d much rather go inside and sit in the AC, but somehow, I’ve convinced myself that it’s less likely he’ll want to fuck me outside. Dumb reasoning, I know. But I hold on to it anyway. I convinced him that he should be patient with me. Win me. And he agreed. But even though I don’t know Carlos that well, I know him well enough to understand rules are made and broken on his whims.

  So what if he agreed a few hours ago? That means nothing right now.

  And then the net is up, Carlos is walking down the stairs into the water holding a badminton racket, and a servant is standing over me—sopping wet because he was one of the ones who had to jump in the pool—handing me a racket too.

  I unstick myself from the lounge chair, stand up, take the racket and walk into the pool after Carlos.

  It feels wonderful. The water isn’t hot, but it’s not cold either. It’s just cool enough to be refreshing. And I’m not gonna lie, this, in combination with washing the sweat off me, improves my mood immediately.

  He’s already on the other side of the net. In the deep end. Which means he has to swim and swing his racket at the same time.

  I wonder if I’m allowed to beat him? Is there some unwritten rule that says Carlos always gets to win?

  Turns out I don’t have to worry about that. Carlos serves the little shuttle at me and I miss, falling sideways into the water as I swing. And when I say, “Your point,” he replies. “This isn’t a competition, so we don’t keep score.”

  So we just… play. Casually batting the little shuttle back and forth. He misses, I miss. He laughs, I try not to laugh.

  And it’s not even terrible. Which makes me feel super guilty. Because Tyler is probably at home worrying about me. Pacing the floor or something. Having one of those rambling conversations with himself, trying to remember why he let me do this in the first place…

  And I’m here in Mexico, on a drug lord’s compound that is a little too much like a resort, playing in the pool with him, almost enjoying myself.

  You’re a terrible person, Devil says.

  But I realize that’s not the Devil. It’s me saying that to myself.

  “What are you thinking so hard about, Madison?”

  I throw the shuttle up in the air, bat it with my racket, and serve it over the net. He hits it back, and I have to scramble to keep the volley going, pretty much falling over sideways again, but manage to hit it back to him. Before I’m even fully upright, it’s coming back at me, and I miss.

  “I’m thinking about how much I suck at badminton,” I say, pushing wet hair out of my eyes.

  Carlos smiles. “You’ll get better at it, don’t worry.”

  I’ll get better at it. Because I’m gonna be here forever so what choice do I have? What else will I get better at? Croquet? Golf?

  “You look bored,” Carlos says. “Are you hungry?”

  I’m fucking starving. But I know this means we’re going to have dinner together soon and then that means the day is over and it’s gonna be night, and even though he tentatively agreed to my let’s-be-patient-with-each-other plan, I’m not convinced he was serious, so I’m all stressed out about that.

  “Come on,” he says, swimming towards the net. “Let’s change and have a nice dinner.” He ducks under the water and resurfaces a few seconds later right in front of me. Standing up to his full height, water dripping down him as he gazes into my eyes.

  Oh, God. He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna kiss me.

  Both his hands land on my shoulders. I look away, over at the two servants who hooked up the net. They’re still dripping wet from jumping in the pool, but I bet they’re baking in the late afternoon sun.

  Carlos tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear and I wince. “You’re never going to like me, are you, Madison?”

  Shit.

  I swallow hard and force myself to look him in the eyes. “Depends,” I say.

  “On what?”

  I shrug. “If we become partners.”

  “Partners?” He laughs.

  “Is that funny because I’m a woman? I’m a stranger? Or both?”

  “Both,” he says. “You’re not here for me, Madison. You’re here for you, remember?”

  “I just said it a few hours ago. Of course I remember.” It comes out a little testy, but I’m feeling very nervous right now. I want nothing more than to call up Tyler on that sat phone and hear his voic
e. He’d probably say something like, Fuck this shit. I’m on my way to pull you out of there. Be there soon. And even though I want to take this asshole down, I really do, I’d be so happy if that’s what happened next.

  That’s not what happens next.

  Carlos drops his racket in the pool as he leans in, both hands on my shoulders as his mouth makes its way to my neck.

  I’m panicking. Like, my heart starts thumping wildly inside my chest. My jaw tightens. I move back just a step, but his grip on my shoulders tightens. Telling me in no uncertain terms that’s not an option.

  “Madison,” he coos into my ear. “You’re driving me crazy. And you’re teasing me now. Wearing that suit. Jumping in the water. Your fire-red hair catching the afternoon sun. Your beautiful skin exposed and your nipples peaked up from the water so the only thing I can think about is getting you naked.”

  Shit. This is not going how I planned. At all.

  “I will be patient, but you need to keep me satisfied in the meantime. I’m a man used to getting what he wants and I want you.” He begins kissing my neck.

  Think, Maddie. Think. Think. Think. What did Emily give you that gets you out of this shit show?

  Yeah, Devil says. You need a serious Plan B like right now… Because if you don’t give him a good reason to stop, you’re going to be sucking his cock under water in about five seconds.

  “You knew that Scotty died in a fire, right?” I blurt, both hands flat on his chest. Desperate to create some distance.

  “What?” Carlos says, halting his kisses.

  “My brother, Scotty,” I say, taking a step back. This time his grip on my shoulders loosens instead of tightening. “When you threatened me on Halloween. You said it’d be terrible if my parents lost another child. You clearly knew I had a brother who died. You must have known how it happened.” I chance a look up at Carlos and find his face. Brow furrowed. Frowning. “Did you?” Carlos drops his hands to the water now. And that’s all I could’ve hoped for. So I continue. “Did you know how badly he got burned? And that he lived?” I sigh. “I mean, he survived. He was not ever going to live again. Not like that.”