Like a Fox

by Sevilla, J. M.

Bones only smiles his charming adolescent smile and Vic’s preoccupied with his pile of loot.

  As we approach the venue for the event we go over the plan again, this time Bones being the one to affirm that he has it memorized.

  We have to wait behind a line of limos, and Vic takes the opportunity to move next to me. “Last chance to back out?”

  I meet his eyes and give a firm, “Nope.”

  “Okay.” He takes my hand and kisses the top as to not mess up my makeup. “Remind me when this is over to always take you places where you can look as beautiful as you do tonight.”

  I blush from the way he’s staring at me, like I truly am the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, “I can remember that.” I smile at him and I almost get a smile in return, but he’s too focused on the night.

  Vic has me take his seat next to Bones so he can stay concealed when the door opens. He looks to Bones, who is now right next to me, “She’s your main priority, above all else tonight.”

  Bones jingles the change in his pocket, both legs bouncing, “Fuck, man, didn’t even need to remind me.”

  Vic gives him a stern expression, “Still needed to say it.”

  Bones watches his feet tap, “I get it.”

  The limo finally makes it to the front, and Bones and I double check that we have what we need on us before exiting. As we leave, Vic takes hold of my arm, forcing me to give him my full attention, “Let Bones do the dirty work. No matter what happens, no matter how intense it may get.”

  I swallow down my nerves and can only manage a nod.

  Vic loosens his grip, sliding his hand down my arm to my hand and giving it one last kiss.

  The limo door opens for us and I let out a big, shaky breath, knowing its only steady breathing from here on out.

  Chapter 24

  Bones is waiting as I leave the safety of the limo with an elbow extended for me to take. I smile a thank you the way Vic had me rehearse, like I’m smiling to be polite but I had fully been expecting such treatment.

  I must admit I was worried about Bones pulling this off from how jittery he was in the vehicle, but he’s a completely different person than the one inside that limo. He has stopped his fidgeting and his posture matches those of every gentleman here.

  Across the front of the building is a huge sign announcing its cause for Skin Cancer Awareness, hosted by Zanerick Pharmaceuticals.

  My grip tightens around Bones’ arm as nervous anxiety kicks in.

  “Relax. Your only job is to be my beautiful date tonight,” Bones’ soothing voice tells me in my ear. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Bones gives his fake name for the night at the entrance and indicates me as his plus one. Directly past that we’re inspected by guards with metal detectors. I feel my forehead and scalp beginning to moisten with sweat as I hand over my evening bag that holds the poison in a tube of lipstick. Bones also has some on him as mine is for backup, but I never got to see where he is keeping it. All the weapons got left behind with Vic, only there for extreme emergencies.

  I lift my arms for the guard to scan my body. My heart is beating at an accelerated pace. I fear it might be heard by anybody close by, which currently happens to be the event’s security. I watch the other guard unclasp the top of my clutch as moisture pulls at the nape of my neck.

  It doesn’t take long and I have to consciously not breathe out my relief when they let us pass, handing back my clutch with a smile and an “enjoy your evening, ma’am.”

  We circulate, smiling politely as we pass others who are draped in diamonds and smothered in expensive fabric. The large event room is lit by chandeliers and wall sconces, casting a romantic glow on the evening. The tables are lined with silk linens and the centerpieces are beautiful arrangements of various orange flowers with twigs spiraling out. It’s an intimate setting; one I’d be more comfortable sharing with Vic.

  Bones and I have to wait out most of night to put our plan into action and each minute feels like thirty to pass. We lazily sip champagne like this is a typical evening for us. I’ve noticed Bones’s muscles stiffen whenever someone gets too close, even though he tries to hide it.

  “We need to look as though we’re enjoying ourselves,” Bones whispers low, as though we are sharing an intimate conversation, his hand resting on my lower back. “It’s time to dance.”

  The intimacy of being so close to him has us both uncomfortable, for me mostly because I can sense how uneasy it makes him. I don’t want to outright ask why the closeness of others bothers him, so instead I ask my other curious questions in hopes it will give me more insight into the man Vic has trusted with my life. I bring my expertly painted nude pink lips near his ear, to give the impression I’m delivering a more sensual message if others were to see us, “What did Vic do for you that he asked for your help and trusted you enough to stay quiet about it?”

  Bones immediately answers, “He freed me.”

  My head ticks back, “Freed you?”

  He looks down at me and I can’t tell if he doesn’t want to answer or if he’s just contemplating how he will answer me. He finally seems to decide. His eyes soften, adding innocence to his already youthful face, and the depths behind them reach a part of me that believes his loyalty without having to hear his reasoning. I get one anyway.

  Bones lifts his gaze to the room, as though he can’t speak his mind directly to me, “There are some men who are imprisoned for breaking the law, and there are others who are imprisoned as slaves. He saved me from both. For that, I owe him my life.”

  “But it’s me you’re helping,” I remind him.

  “I disagree,” Bones says with a shake of the head, “You are his life, and therefore you two are the same in my eyes.”

  “That’s very honorable.”

  A grim-faced Bones responds in a subdued, distant voice, “For what he did for me he deserves nothing less.”

  I want to ask how Vic saved him but know that’s not my place.

  The conversation is quickly forgotten when I spot the man we are after weaving through the crowd.

  “He’s here,” I mumble, barely moving my lips.

  Bones leads me on the dance floor, gracefully turning so he can get a better view.

  We dance through another song and I can’t get over how well Bones dances, knowing all the various embellishments and leading me so I don’t have to worry about not having a clue of where to step or what to do. The whole time I try desperately not to let my eyes search for our man, a mister Robert Blackwell. I pretend I’m enjoying the man I’m dancing with. I picture Vic, hoping it makes my face shine like a woman in love.

  The MC requests that we make our way to our tables, and that means we are that much closer to the end game.

  “Where did you learn to dance like that?” I ask as Bones escorts me off the dance floor.

  A darkness shadows his bright green eyes, “Another life. One I try to forget.”

  As we take our seats, I happen to peer up and am stunned to the point that my ass is frozen halfway to meeting my chair as I gawk.

  Vikki is across the room sitting at a table of her own, looking polished in a form fitting black dress and bright red lips. She spots me at the exact same time I do her. She doesn’t seem as stunned to see me as she allows the man behind her to push her chair in. She doesn’t offer me any kind of acknowledgment and goes back to greeting the patrons around her, conversing with them.

  I pull it together and allow Bones to finish sliding my chair in. I force myself to look away from her and chant inside my head “I must not seek her out tonight.” I don’t want anybody to see me watching her for even a moment. I know that’s paranoia, but I don’t care. I’ve never been in a situation like this before and I haven’t a clue the best way to handle it, so I’ve decided on ignoring the matter altogether. I don’t even tell Bones, not wanting to draw attention to her.

  I expected the small talk at our table to be painful, but that’s not the case at all. They all have a decade
or two on Bones and I and therefore have bountiful amounts of stories to tell that help the time to go by and distract me from having panic attacks over what we are about to do. Nobody notices that Bones and I hardly touch our dinners.

  After the meal is taken away and we are almost done with dessert, a woman in her mid-forties steps up to the stage and we all listen to her fundraising speech. I tune her out, getting reassuring leg squeezes from Bones, which surprisingly brings me comfort.

  “So get your pocketbooks ready folks, and let the bidding begin!” She shouts when she is done.

  Bones and I make our way to the silent auction along with the rest of the tables. I pretend to take my time inspecting certain ones as though I’m interested. There is only one I’m here for, the same one Bones is making his way towards, trying to make it so we arrive there at roughly the same time. It is for a sailboat. Vic is certain Robert Blackwell will end up there, as sailing is his passion and he loves any opportunity to brag about the extravagancies he can afford.

  Vikki comes up next to me while I’m pretending to be reading about a trip to Paris. She bends down, writing down a bid, mumbling low for only me to hear, “I know why you’re here. You need to leave.”

  I speak just as low, “Once it’s done, I will.”

  She rises back up, “I assume my brother dearest is here?”

  “In the limo.”

  She hands the pen off to me with a fake smile, “Of course. Wouldn’t want these men to think he was back in the family business.”

  My next words pop out, “Are you?”

  “I play many roles. Only one of them is who I truly am.” Vikki brushes past me, and with a sneer under her breath says, “My brother better not die over this.”

  I try not to laugh over our encounter and how cryptic/spiteful she always is towards me. I cough into my hand to conceal a smile, regaining my cool. As I bring my hand down I notice he’s right next to me, retrieving a glass of champagne from a waitress walking by. He examines what’s up for auction next to me and places the glass between us.

  This would be the perfect opportunity to sneak the Memphis84 in. I look around for Bones, who is still making his way to the sailboat table. I slyly try to get Bones’ attention but a woman has captured it first. She is obviously flirting with him. You’d think she’d take a clue he isn’t interested with how stiff-as-a-board he has become and his constipated looking grimace while he looks around for an escape. His hand starts jingling change in his pocket. I’ve seen him do this a few times. It must be what he does to calm himself. Maya keeps a rock in her pocket she rubs when she gets anxious.

  He’s still there, debating if he should make a bid. The opportunity is too perfect. I don’t give myself much time to debate, knowing I’ll chicken out.

  Throughout the whole evening my heart has been beating a mile a minute, but that’s nothing compared to the way it’s thumping now. The blood is now ringing in my ears to the point I might pass out before I’ve even attempted anything.

  First, with a surprisingly steady hand, I set down my own glass of champagne next to his, so close they almost touch. Next, I remove my “lipstick” from my clutch, along with a compact. I twist and the pink nude of my lipstick appears at the same time the bottom opens. The Memphis84 tube drops into my hand. I make sure my fingers are safely wrapped around it so it won’t slip out or be seen. I pretend to double check that my lipstick is in place and for a fraction of a second my hand shakes. I scold myself and with everything that I have force it to stop. Preventing my hand from shaking is about one of the hardest things I have ever done. I’m not joking. It takes willpower and definite mind-over-matter control.

  The real challenge is figuring out the best way to slip the drug into Robert Blackwell’s drink. Not wanting to lose the chance, I go with the first plan that pops in my head, which is probably my first mistake.

  I purposely reach for his glass and bring it up to my lips, pausing just as it’s about to hit and let out a girlish giggle, “Oops, that’s not mine.” He looks up and I give him a flirty smile, “Sorry, I almost drank from your glass.” While his attention is on me I place his glass back down and drop the Memphis84 in, keeping the tube hidden in my palm. I resist the urge to check if the poison shows in his drink, having to trust Vic that it won’t.

  Robert gives me a flirty smile back, “Losing a drink to such a beautiful woman would hardly be an inconvenience.”

  I bat my lashes, sickened by the whole encounter, “Thank you.” I take my glass, quickly eyeing his, and am happy to report nothing looks out of the ordinary. My hand gives out and shakes as I bring my glass up, but he’s distracted by his date that is now at his side. I sip from my glass, peeking through my lashes to see if anybody is eyeing me suspiciously. Not a single person seems interested in anywhere around me and I sigh internally.

  “I got you a fresh glass,” I hear him say to his date, handing over the glass of champagne.

  My stomach drops as she gratefully accepts it.

  I know all color has left my face and I quickly duck into the crowd, pulling Bones along with me. “He gave someone else the drink,” I squeak, stashing the tube back in my clutch.

  “What are you talking about?” Bones follows where my eyes are glued to. He glances between the woman sipping her champagne, unaware that she’s drinking her death, and me, who is obviously panicking. Hyperventilating really. I can’t breathe. I don’t know who that person is. What if she has children? What if despite her date ruining lives she’s saved millions? What if–

  “Calm down, Freya,” Bones has me face him, both of his strong hands wrapped over my shoulders, giving them a shake. “It’s okay.”

  “How is that okay?” I’m not even prepared to kill a man who apparently deserves it, so this is beyond what I can digest. “I’ll never come back from a mistake like this,” I whisper in despair and devastation.

  Bones curses, “You’re in a room full of killers, you did the world a fucking favor.”

  I’m taken back for a second, “What?”

  “Well,” he looks around the room, scrunching his face, “Mostly. Some are innocent, but they all know the kind of fucking people who are in this room and accept that’s who they fucking are.”

  “Vikki’s here,” I point out.

  “I know…” It lingers and I can’t say I’m surprised.

  “Would you fit in here?”

  “Yes,” Bones immediately answers.

  I have to ask, “Vic…?”

  Bones gives me a look, and the look alone is all the answer I need.

  I watch the woman drink what was not intended for her. I guess now I fit in with this crowd too. I don’t have time to contemplate how that affects me, because two well-built men in matching business suits step in front of us.

  “Mr. Kazimir requests your presence,” the one on the left informs us, like we don’t have a choice.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Bones inquires, as though he can’t be bothered with being taken away from the party.

  The one on the left levels his eyes on Bones, “I think you know.”

  “And what the fuck would he want with us? We’ve never spoken before.”

  “Come with us,” the left one demands.

  Bones nods while placing a hand on my lower back, signifying that we should do what we’re told.

  They lead us to the closest door. Bones and I leave our glasses on the nearest table, not wanting them with us.

  Bones continuously rubs his chest as we travel down a stark white hallway with several doors. “You have any Pepcid or Tums on you? Fucking heartburn, man.”

  “What’s going on?” I whisper as I pretend to rummage through my clutch.

  “Indigestion,” is his response.

  Heartburn is our code word for plans have changed and not for the better. Indigestion is our other code word for reminding me to let Bones do all the talking, and first chance I get I need to get the hell out, with or without him.

  My adrenaline has n
ow peaked to full force, prickling my body. I once heard adrenaline can make you hyper aware. I feel cheated if that is true. I can barely focus, and any thoughts I may have are jumbled together. Each step I take doesn’t feel like it’s my feet hitting the ground, like I’m floating.

  I force my mind to process its surroundings, knowing my only goal now is to get out of here alive. The only things we pass are windowless doors, no signs or numbers associating them to anything or anyone.

  I wish I knew where it went wrong, and I can’t help but wonder if our target’s date is dead yet. That’s certainly going to cause a commotion. Maybe that will be my chance to leave. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it will cause a distraction. Maybe that person’s life will save my own. I can only hope. That right there tells you how fucked up this situation is and how far I’m willing to go to save my father.

  We come to a sudden halt two doors from the end of the hallway. We follow our escorts inside. It’s a dark room lit only by the glow of a green desk lamp that glints dimly from the eyes of the figure sitting behind the desk. He’s a large man. Not overly so, but definitely someone who enjoys his food. His features are hard to make out in this light, but I can tell he’s not smiling. The men who led us in pull out the two chairs in front of the desk, inviting Bones and I to take a seat. I glance over at Bones, whose leg is bouncing, but that’s nothing new; part of his body is always moving, like he can’t ever be still.

  The plump man behind the desk adjusts in his chair, lengthening his short torso, “Do you know who I am?”

  Bones is quick to respond, “Nope.”

  The man leans towards the light, “You sure about that?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well let me introduce myself,” his accent has similarities to Vic’s, yet there is a slight difference in how they roll their vowels, “I’m Fyodor Kazimir, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

  Bones looks around the room, drumming his fingers on his thigh, “Is there a reason for this? Were we doing the auction wrong or something?”

  The plump man behind the desk scoots forward, resting his clasped hands on a pile of papers, his perfectly maintained white hair and beard coming into view. “I have reason to believe you work for a man I very much need to get in touch with.”