Prowl (Nothing Else Matters But Survival Book 1)

by Stephanie Nicole Norris

  Leah placed the safety back on her gun and sat it down on the table. Taking quick steps across the room, Leah snatched the spare key she kept hidden under a flower pot on her front porch from Drew’s hand.

  “What do you want?” Leah asked again crossing her arms.

  “I didn’t come to fight.”

  “You must have, or else you wouldn’t be here.” Leah’s glare held strong.

  “I’m sorry.” It was Drew’s turn to fold her arms. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

  Leah offered her no response.

  Drew’s arms fell. “I know it’s no excuse, but when Nia left, it didn’t only impact you it impacted me, too.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I guess deep down, I’ve been watching and waiting for you to throw in the towel, too. I have this recurring dream that I’ll wake up, and you’ll be gone. It bothers me that no one knows where she is or what happened to her. How could Nia leave without leaving a clue, even to you, her twin sister? It’s bugged me every day, and you’re the closest thing to her I can blame.” Drew’s’ eyes faltered. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been a very good friend.”

  Leah visibly softened, turning her back against the wall to lean on it for support. Leah’s eyes shut tight as she thought about Drew’s words. It never occurred to Leah that everyone could’ve taken Nia’s disappearance just as hard as she did. They all treated her like she would break at any moment. Making sure she was okay, checking on her daily, taking care of her responsibilities while she mourned her sister’s disappearance. It had almost taken therapy to bring Leah out of her funk. That was eight years ago, and time had not made things easier.

  Drew stepped in front of Leah reaching out to pull her into her arms. “Forgive me.”

  Leah threw her arms around Drew. “Forgiven,” Leah replied, pulling her best friend in tighter.

  “I promise to do better,” Drew offered.

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Now that you love me again, you know we have to get this money.”

  The air grew thick around them. Leah sighed, “Yes, I know.”

  Chapter Six

  Mason sat slumped in the fake leather connected chairs in the terminal of the German airport. Having his ass handed to him first thing in the morning because of a mistake Brittany made did not sit well with him. More than that, because of her sloppiness, they could very well lose the lead on the case; his case, the case that introduced him to Symone Ellis. Fuller prided himself on having a 92% closure rate. That was unprecedented for an FBI agent with his years of service. Mason even managed to keep an excellent close record after having lost a partner and being assigned a rookie partner straight out of Quantico. But soon, none of that would matter. One of the most high profile, career building cases was at risk of being snatched from him.

  “Passenger flight 549 from Austria to Manhattan, New York will be boarding in fifteen minutes.”

  To hear the announcement over the intercom was a great relief to Mason. He was ready to get back home, but he knew there were consequences he had to face. As Mason stood in line waiting to board the plane, he contemplated how he would handle things with the Director. He had to stay on the Ellis case. He hoped the Director’s threat was just an idle one, but the Director was not a man who made empty threats or false promises. Mason knew he had his work cut out for him.

  Brittany wanted to be pissed at Mason for leaving her. I’m his partner dammit, she thought to herself as she exited the cab and headed into the airport terminal. But even as she cursed Mason for failing to be a good partner, Brittany knew deep down that it was her error that caused the rift between them, and the ass chewing they got for it. The terminal was crowded, and Brittany wasn’t as well versed in German as Mason was. She leaned on him during the trip for translating and pretty much leading her where she needed to go. Brittany became frustrated trying to navigate her way through the foreign airport, having to stop every hundred feet to ask someone if she was headed in the right direction. Most of the people she ran into were not English speaking so that pissed Brittany off even more.

  By the time she got to the gate, the flight had already boarded, and the stewardess was closing the door to the tarmac.

  “Please wait!” Brittany yelled as she was forced to run to try and catch her flight. Brittany wasn’t sure the stewardess even understood what she said so she yelled again and ran even faster to get to the door; her bags falling off her shoulders as she went.

  “Please, please…,” She thought quickly of the German word Mason used, “Bitte!” She remembered as she neared her destination. The stewardess finally turned in Brittany’s direction. At last, Brittany stood in front of the stewardess waving her boarding pass wildly so the stewardess could see it. The stewardess shook her head as if it was too late, but Brittany was insistent.

  “I have to get on that plane,” she demanded. “Bitte, Bitte,” she begged. The stewardess went to the desk, and Brittany assumed she was calling the plane to see if they could board her. When the stewardess took the pass and opened the door to the tarmac, Brittany was incredibly relieved.

  “Danke! Danke!”

  Brittany didn’t wait for the door to fully open before she pushed passed it and headed down the tarmac at a near jog. She didn’t want to spend another moment in Austria especially with her and Mason on the outs. By the time she reached the entrance to the plane, she was already looking for him. He may have been on another flight, she didn’t know, but her instinct was to look for her partner, even though she was sure, Mason had no interest in seeing her right now. The on plane stewardess wasn’t willing to allow Brittany to wander down the aisle in hopes of looking for her partner. The plane waited for Brittany, and she needed to get seated immediately so the plane could take off. Brittany had no choice but to go to the seat she was being ushered to.

  Mason was settled in his seat and waiting for the signal that the plane was ready to taxi down the runway. But they seemed to be delayed at the gate. Any kind of setback didn’t help his disposition. And then he saw Brittany. Mason saw her looking around like she was looking for him. Instinctively, Mason dropped his head, hoping that she didn’t see him. It might have been petty, but Mason was not in the mood to deal with her right now. Mason didn’t look up and was relieved when the stewardess indicated the plane was preparing for takeoff. He would much rather sit next to a stranger than his partner right now. That’s how much she had pissed him off. That’s how disappointed he was with Brittany.

  As the plane finally began to proceed down the runway, Mason finally relaxed in his seat. He leaned back on the headrest and closed his eyes. His thoughts were immediately of Symone, and not Symone the criminal, but Symone the woman he desperately wanted to get to know.

  “So did y'all kiss and makeup,” Symone teased as Leah and Drew came through the door where they’d left Symone and Brooklyn. They had to figure out what their next move would be.

  “Yeah, after she tried to shoot me,” Drew replied smirking in Leah’s direction.

  “What the hell?” Brooklyn asked, eying both of them; Leah first and then Drew.

  “She snuck up on me! Scared the shit out of me,” Leah exclaimed, defending herself.

  “I told y'all she didn’t need that gun,” Symone chimed in, shaking her head.

  “Gone mess around and shoot somebody for real.”

  “Well, everybody can’t be a black belt fashionista like you,” Drew teased. “Hiyaaa! In six-inch Jimmy Choo’s and shit!”

  Drew stood up throwing a high kick into the air. Everybody fell out laughing as she imitated Symone’s signature attack stance. Symone popped her lips and rolled her eyes at Drew and the other two for laughing with her. But it was funny, and Symone joined in as Drew continued to show off her lack of skills.

  As the laughter died down, Brooklyn, beginning to look pensive, changed the subject.

  “Alright ladies, for real, what are we going to do about this money?”

&nb
sp; The jubilant mood in the room quickly shifted, taking on a much more serious note. Drew joined Brooklyn at the dining room table. Symone and Leah followed. The group was quiet for a while, contemplating what they could do to bridge the gap between what they had and what the family still needed.

  “How much do we need again,” Leah asked trying to do the math in her head.

  “A whole hell of a lot,” Drew remarked placing her head in her upturned hands.

  “Given the value of the salt shaker,” Symone began, “and considering we need enough to not only cover the back taxes and bail out the business but provide a cushion while the company tries to bounce back...”

  “And something for our damn trouble,” Brooklyn added.

  Symone cut her eyes at her friend.

  “When did we decide that Brook,” Symone asked, folding her arms across her buxom chest and sitting back in the chair.

  “That’s an understood, Symone,” Brooklyn shot back.

  “When did it become an understood?”

  “When we decided to put it all on the line for the family, that’s when,” Brooklyn asserted without wavering.

  “Brooklyn does have a point, Symone,” Drew added. “Think about it. I mean we are all doing all right, but being a museum curator? It’s for the love of the art baby, not the money. And I know you love teaching your martial arts students and all, but what happened last year when class enrollment dropped off that semester?” Drew didn’t wait for Symone to respond. “Things got tight, and you were scrambling for a minute.”

  “They did Drew, but I bounced back,” Symone quipped. She shifted uncomfortably in the seat as Drew continued.

  “Brooklyn’s doing fine, Brook is always fine, but having a little extra for a rainy day I’m sure wouldn’t hurt, would it Brooklyn?”

  “Naw, sis, it sure wouldn’t,” Brooklyn agreed. Symone expected allegiance between Brooklyn and Drew, and the upturn of her lips demonstrated how she felt.

  “And I mean no disrespect, but you know social workers don’t make no money. And Leah ain’t in it for the money. But she’s got James to take care of. Having some extra money now and something for when baby boy gets ready to go to college or whatever? Come on Symone. If we doing this thing, we need to get our ends, too.”

  Leah nodded her head in agreement. It would make things much easier with a safety net. Although she hated to admit it, Symone knew they were right. It took her a minute, and Symone made them wait while she contemplated. But she saw the look in their eyes. Symone knew that if they were not all united on the plan, what they so desperately wanted to accomplish wouldn’t happen. There was a time to be practical, and there was a time to make sure that not only did the people she cared most about survive, but thrive.

  “As long as we don’t get greedy,” Symone began.

  “We stole a multimillion dollar salt shaker, Symone, and it still ain’t enough,” Brooklyn reminded her. “We need to get paid!”

  Drew and Leah chimed in. “for real,” “that’s right, Brooklyn!”

  “Okay, okay, but we have to be smart about this. We have to plan, review, work all the angles and plan for every contingency.”

  “Come on Symone,” Drew interjected. “We are professionals.”

  “Sho’ you right!” She and Leah slapped a high five.

  “I got your professionals,” Symone quipped.

  “So what’s our target?” Brooklyn’s question turned the conversation serious. The ladies grew silent, each thinking about what would be the next best move. They had a significant deficit to breach.

  “The problem with stealing merchandise is getting rid of it,” Leah asserted. “Dealing with all the back channels, covering our tracks so it can’t be linked back to us…”

  “Paying the damn middle man,” Drew added, “that cuts into the profit margin.”

  The ladies had a point, and as Symone thought about it, she paced back and forth.

  “So where are we with the salt shaker?” Brooklyn inquired. “Before we move on to the next, we have to make sure we have some traction on liquidating that very expensive asset.” She continued. “We can at least put a stop gap on the back taxes and shore up the company until the next score.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little soon to try to move it,” Symone asked.

  “Especially since your little heartthrob was there,” Leah chimed in.

  “Let’s not start,” Symone shot back.

  “Brooklyn, was Agent Mason Fuller there?” Leah teased.

  “Yes, he was,” Brooklyn said, nodding her head affirmatively.

  “And did she or did she not reference him as a god, Drew?” Leah continued the tease.

  “That she did,” Drew readily agreed.

  Symone was embarrassed. “Y'all play too much,” she countered; her cheeks flushing. “But I agree with Brooklyn. We need to get some traction on moving the Saliera while we figure out our next move.”

  “I’ll put the call in,” Drew said.

  “Remember to use the burner,” Brooklyn reminded. Drew rolled her eyes.

  “Thanks for the reminder, sis,” Drew whined. She hated it when Brooklyn treated her like a child.

  “Why don’t we do a bank for the next one,” Leah offered. “With cash money, we can turn it over quicker, no middle man, less hassle.”

  “That all sounds good,” Brooklyn began. “But you do remember what happened the first time we tried to do a bank?”

  She did, and so did the rest of the group.

  Chapter Seven

  “Step forward, left leg first. Remember your hands, Carl.”

  Symone approached the young man and grabbed his fist.

  “If you remember your legs and not your hands you won’t be able to hold your position. Remember your hands.” She stepped to his side and demonstrated. “Feet, step, legs, hands.”

  “Okay.” He said.

  “You got it, come on together, let’s go.”

  They stepped completing the technique without error.

  “Again!” Symone said.

  Their steps continued to align as they practiced over and over.

  “Good job!” She patted him on his shoulder and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Tomorrow we’ll be working a little later than usual since you all will be fighting one another. Don’t try to show out and just remember your steps and focus. You’ll do fine.”

  The young men gathered their bags and filed out of the room one behind the other. Symone made her way to the shower room. Inside, she attempted to clear her thoughts but failed.

  Symone didn’t want to feel stressed out, but sometimes she couldn’t help it. Her family’s pharmaceutical business was thriving in the beginning. They’d all been surprised when the corporate income flourished into the multi-millions, but that wasn’t without bank loans they’d needed to get it off the ground. The family was confident they would never want for anything. But, three years ago, all that changed. Not only had the business taken a hard loss, but they all went nearly bankrupt trying to keep it afloat; investing their own monies into the sinking ship. When they began to receive late payment notices from the property they inherited from their late ancestors, their parents were certain it was over. Now the millions they needed to keep the business going had landed on the four of them. And even though her aunt and uncle knew nothing of their thievery, it still felt like a ton of bricks. If they didn’t get the money, the bank would collect what was owed, and the business would be shut down. Thoughts of the impending heist floated around Symone’s head as she showered, dried, dressed and left the facility in route to her favorite place.

  Now inside Starbucks, the smell of roasted coffee and the buzz of keys being tapped by local writers, sitting in their secluded spaces, filled the room. In line, Symone shifted the scarf around her neck. She smiled when the woman in front of her stepped aside, and she came face to face with the cashier.

  “Hey Symone, will you have your usual today?”

  “I think I’
ll go for a power lunch, the string cheese, fruit tray, bag of popcorn and bottled water.”

  “Fabulous.”

  The cashier typed her order in. “Eight dollars.”

  Instinctively, Symone pulled out her Visa and handed it to the lady. Happily, the cashier swiped the card, but it declined. The cashier frowned. “Um, its saying insufficient funds.”

  This time Symone frowned. “Try it again.”

  The cashier slid the card through again, but the machine beeped indicating that the Visa was no good. Thoughts of Drew’s words were brought to the forefront of Symone’s mind.

  “I know you love teaching your martial arts students and all, but what happened last year when class enrollment dropped off that semester? Things got tight, and you were scrambling for a minute.”

  Symone lied when she said she bounced back. She hadn't; instead, she robbed Peter to pay Paul; going between two loan establishments to make ends meet. That was a confession Symone wasn’t willing to make.

  “It’s on me.”

  A baritone voice beat behind her. Symone stiffened turning slowly to face him. Agent Mason Fuller stood so close to her she could smell his cologne.

  Suddenly, her mouth was dry, and she needed that water faster than ever.

  Mason’s tongue traveled across his bottom lip; his mouth parted into a dazzling smile. For longer than necessary, they held each other in sight; hyper-aware of the connection that drove them both insane. Mason reached passed her handing his MasterCard to the cashier, which she happily took.

  “No!” Symone said snapping out of her daze. “I’ve got cash.” She fumbled for her wallet.

  “It’s okay, really, I don’t mind,” Mason said, covering her shaky hand with his. His movement pulled him even closer and a spark of energy coursed through their loins.

  The cashier swiped the card before any more protesting could be done. Her line was getting long, and she was trying to make employee of the month.

  “Should I add anything to this order,” the cashier added.

  “I’ll take the Cafe Mocha,” Mason answered.