by Amarie Avant
He eventually met Brenda Miller. She and his new foster sister, Shelly, did one thing everyone else was incapable of. The two chose not to give up on him, regardless of his faults. They forced him to hone in on his intelligence at school while redirecting his misbehavior at home. As an adolescent, Brenda kept him from the target of the LAPD until he attended the academy. Completed a total three-sixty, now, Wulf had a position in the Gang Unit. The goal-oriented man wasn’t finished there. He became the leading agent.
“Gracie was a kid,” Wulf began looking off into the distance, “stuck with the wrong cards in life. She had a boyfriend in the Gunner Gang—”
“The Gunner Gang?” Glenn screeched. “I’ve seen a few documentaries about them in the past. They’re putting the Bloods to shame.”
“Yup, then you get the gist. But there’s no such thing as monogamy in those types of Gangs, Glenn. She was foster, like I was. Only, she didn’t have a good family—the system had given up on even offering her a family. She was in a group home facility.” He stopped to let the guilt sink in again. Wulf knew he would’ve been in the same situation as Gracie, had Brenda not been his last placement.
The social worker had threatened a young Dylan on the way to Brenda’s home. “Dylan, if you screw up with Ms. Miller, I’m starting the paperwork for group home, and I know you know what that means. No cell phone, no calls, no sneaking out. And check this, I won’t even be your social worker anymore. You’ll get a group home social worker that doesn’t give a damn about you either.”
“She was a misunderstood group home kid, where the county pays out of the ass just to keep kids that they deem the worst of the worst safe. The group home she stayed at was no better thanjuvie.”
“Wow.”
“She’d come to see me, feed me a little information about the gang, ask if I’d help get her boyfriend out of the gang.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.” Glenn leaned against the car, his demeanor just as anxious and worry-filled as he was when they chased after Mary Jane.
Wulf paused to look into the back seat, but the woman who was just as courageous and bullheaded as Gracie didn’t seem to be listening.
“Even less promising since her boyfriend was one of the main honchos and she was blinded by love. I offered her witness protection, to change her identity, send her somewhere so that she could have a better life, but Gracie kept saying she wanted to wait for that piece of crap to wise up.” He bit at his bottom lip, recalling the intuition he had. Gracie had almost seemed ready to leave the life she led. To give it all up and start over.
Glenn sighed. “But the Gunners went to jail, right? Like a year ago?”
Wulf nodded. “A year ago, Gracie came up missing. But she left me a note. I guess she was just smart enough to leave all the details before going to her boyfriend and asking if he wanted to leave. She had it wrapped into her mind that I’d give him a deal, and that they’d be free together. That wasn’t the case. Her note held names and locations and ties to a cartel organization that the Gunners worked for. About a week later, the streets were clean, and we found her body.”
Mary Jane’s eyebrows crinkled as newspapers and reports flooded her memory of the gang’s fall less than a year ago. Wulf was hailed as a hero. She knew more about Los Angeles than she initially thought. She wondered if she’d been there on assignment, perhaps.
She looked at Glenn who was visibly shaken after Gracie’s story. The agent in her required a tough skin, but Mary Jane offered Glenn a wan smile as he opened his door. She tried to make eye contact with him when he got into the back seat. She needed to show sympathy. He’d been frozen as ice as he told the story. Now, he didn’t even glance in her direction.
Who was she kidding? Wulf is a savior cop who doesn’t want to be bothered. She was on a mission. Though she couldn’t quite insert herself in Anya Randolph’s mind, Mary Jane felt that if she truly were the agent, a mission had to take precedence over everything. Even though Wulf’s story compelled her to comfort him, Mary Jane gulped down that need.
“C’mon, Glenn. I need to return to the motel,” Mary Jane said, finally looking at the fireball of a desert sun off in the distance. She looked back into the rearview mirror at Wulf who finally looked at her. Her gaze held as much apology as she was capable of and something inside of Mary Jane told her that Wulf didn’t do well with sorrow. “I need the phone number. I must report to the Agency about the Asia prototype.” That is if, there truly is an agency and I’m Anya Randolph.
As Glenn drove, she wrapped her mind around the few precious memories she had as Anya. Something didn’t click.
The meeting adjourned with no more dead bodies. Jake watched as the rest of his crew walked stiff-legged out of the room.
He turned to Beasley. “Wyatt and Cody haven’t texted me back. I should go check on them.” Jake’s face was stone-cold with disinterest. At least, he hoped.
“Not necessary. I’ve anticipated as such. Those idiots probably tied her up for a good time before dropping her off,” Beasley said, leaning back in the leather seat.
That’s what I’m afraid of. That weak-ass officer couldn’t keep her safe! “Shouldn’t I—”
Beasley chuckled. “I have a surprise for them. They think they can touch my girl. I’ve told one of the maids to awaken Hurricane. Jake, you have more pertinent matters to attend to. Round up the girls for the night. It’s about that time.”
Jake hid his grimace as he walked out. Once Hurricane caught up with them, everybody is dead. The seven-foot-two cannibal, Hurricane, was the only man Jake feared. If he could be called a man. Before Mary Jane entered his life, Jake had never crossed Beasley. He could always kill when he was unable to be loyal, but Hurricane was a different story.
Did Mary Jane mean so much as to ruin the connections he made? Just as he began to ruminate over it, another thought popped into his head. A thought so consuming, Jake knew exactly who he’d choose.
In the courtyard of the mansion, Jake called out to Steward, the newest member. “Come with me.”
Standing next to the red F-250 with three other guys, Steward pointed to himself and then looked around at the other hooligans in astonishment. “Me?”
“Yes!” Jake’s hand went to the back of the guy’s neck, and like a dog, he pulled him toward the trailer with MJ and two other girls on it. The bus he’d used to help Mary Jane escape. He’d barely gotten Gus to agree to let her ride along while they went to fill up the tank.
Jake got into the driver’s side, and Steward hopped into the passenger seat. While pulling past a Ferrari and out of the U-shaped driveway, Jake said, “Listen here, Stew, you’re gonna get the girls ready for tonight and take them into the neighboring towns. They know what street or which motel they should be dropped off. Got that, Steward?”
“But Beasley doesn’t let any of the new guys escort—”
“Steward,” Jake’s voice hardened, “I get it, you’re afraid. There’s repercussions of you screwing over Beasley. Shit, I don’t even want to finish thinking about it.”
“Yeah…me neither.”
“We’ve all gotta be afraid of something, Stew. So, I feel you on that. Keep your eyes open.”
On key, Steward glanced out across the wilderness as if he expected the king of the jungle to come bulldozing toward them.
Jake turned the large wheel and the big bus lurched onto the highway. “Steward, fear Beasley all you want. He’s almost at the top of the food chain. Right above him? Me.”
“Okay.”
“When we get to The Petting Zoo, the girls will be ready, like I said. You’ll transport them in this bus to their destinations for the evening. Do not touch the girls.”
Jake pressed on the brake at the stop sign. Usually, he wouldn’t stop, but he felt the need to give the guy a hard stare when saying, “This is our little secret.”
“Okay.”
Jake gave him a reassuring smile. Although, Steward’s agreement did not matter. Come morning, Jake
would cover up what he’d done, and that meant a bullet to Steward’s brain. When he gave a shaky smile in return, Jake pressed on the gas. He needed to save Mary Jane before Hurricane forgot to keep her alive prior to his order of returning her to Beasley.
Jake had to kill Hurricane. He gulped down the lump in his throat. It would be a hard night.
16
“Wulf, this is where we part ways.” Mary Jane looked up at him as they stood in the staff room back at the motel where Glenn worked. During the long ride, she’d kept quiet, not saying a word to him, and he hadn’t said a single thing to her. It was as if the night they’d shared occurred ages ago. But for her, there was a longing to make a connection.
Wulf glared down at her. “That’s a negative. You and I are headed to Los Angeles where we will connect with a friend.”
“I don’t need—”
“Who will look into this situation,” his voice boomed, “then I will personally escort you to a safe rehabilitation center, where you’ll forget these delusions of prototype China, and sometime later, not now, you’ll thank me for getting you away.”
She tugged away from his touch but it was no use. She bit her bottom lip so hard to stave off the need to cry. How could he not trust her?
Wulf’s stone face didn’t move a twitch. “I’m helping you, Mary Jane. One day, you’ll understand that.”
Her hard glare turned wide-eyed at the sound of a click. The sparkle in her brown eyes disappeared as she looked down to see her left wrist in handcuffs, followed by her right.
“Take these off,” Mary Jane ordered, jiggling her confined wrists. “I’m not under arrest!”
“Um, Wulf, that’s not something I would do, if I were you.” Glenn spoke so quietly that Wulf could barely hear him. “You did see how she murdered those twins.”
Ignoring the warning, Wulf said, “I regret to inform you, Mary Jane, that you indeed are under arrest for assault on a police officer.”
“Oh, I assaulted you! Well, I think we’re even, Wulf.” She struggled against his clutch.
“This entire town doesn’t make sense, MJ. I’m doing what’s best for you and taking you to a friend at the LAPD.”
“Los Angeles has no jurisdiction in Santo Cruces City, Arizona!” Mary Jane tried to turn to Glenn for help, but Wulf had yanked the front door open. “Wait, wait. Can’t I at least call that number to confirm if someone competent can prove who I am?”
“No,” he growled. He gripped her bicep firmly.
“Please, Dylan.” Her tone held a note of sincerity. They both knew she didn’t use his first name but it sounded so good coming out of her mouth.
“Listen, I know your scrawny ass listened when I spoke about the foster kid Gracie,” he said, his gaze connecting with her. “I didn’t save her, Mary Jane. I’m saving you.”
She bit her lip and murmured. “I think you did your best.”
“I didn’t. Before Gracie was even moved to group homes, she was coming and snitching to me. She had this foster mom that didn’t give a damn about her. They had cup-of-noodle soup and other crap for dinner all the time, and I even went to her social worker about it, but the worker didn’t care. Asked me if I wanted to begin the process of caring for her.”
Mary Jane’s lips trembled into a slight smile. However, they both knew how the story ended. She whispered, “Wulf, you tried, I know you did.”
“MJ, my meddling got her put into a group home. The more calls I made to the social worker, which in return had her contacting the foster mom, and then that damn lady lied on Gracie. Lied about Gracie trying to shock her. It was either me or a group home…I should’ve taken her in.”
“We can’t change the past,” Mary Jane whimpered. “Please, please, you’ve gotta let me figure out who I am. I keep thinking that I’m Anya, but . . . but the memories are too short, and almost like watching TV, not as if I’m invested in that life. So, Wulf, you have to let me know just who I am. It’s the most important thing to me in this entire world. Help me.”
Slowly, Wulf stepped back inside the lobby and decreased the pressure of her forearm. After a few more moments, he let her go.
“Thanks,” she said.
He looked away from her innocent gaze. Rubbing the back of his neck, Wulf nodded. He went to the continental breakfast stand and grabbed a package of instant coffee.
“Wulf, please take these off so I can make the call?” Mary Jane asked.
“No,” he replied, pouring the contents into a Styrofoam cup. At the sound of her deep sigh, he picked up the electric hot-water carafe.
Knowing that Wulf had caved just about as much as a stubborn man like him was willing to, Mary Jane let it go. With her wrists still confined, she found the piece of paper and Glenn went to grab the wireless phone from the lobby. She scanned the phone number and huffed. “No, this can’t be right.”
“What’s wrong?” Wulf asked.
The relief on his face made her want to cram the paper down his throat. But she gave an infuriating grumble instead. “There are only six numbers!”
“All right, let’s go.”
Mary Jane yanked her clasped wrists closer to her abdomen. “No, Wulf. You just want to illegally force me into rehab! I’m not….” A lump formed in her throat and her voice decreased an octave. “I am not a drug addict. If you’d just believe me…we…we had something last night, so I just don’t understand why you’d do this!”
“I’m saving you, MJ,” Wulf’s voice slammed into her chest. She could tell his patience was winding down to zero. “We are getting the fuck out of Arizona. My old partner, Jones, is going to look into this mess. We will collaborate with the proper authorities regarding the SCPD.”
Mary Jane stopped speaking.
“Glenn.” Wulf’s eyes stopped on him, and Glenn stood to attention. “Thank you for the use of your car. You’ve been an invaluable asset. I will be confiscating your Grand National, but I will have it sent back to you once we are in Los Angeles.”
Glenn’s bottom lip dropped. “No-no, you can’t take my car!”
“I can, and I am. Police business.”
“But, well…” Glenn began, disregarding Wulf squirming around to keep Mary Jane in check. “My mom’s car is in the lot. She never leaves, and she drives a Honda Accord.”
“Okay, harder to spot car, less gas,” Wulf agreed.
“This is ridiculous,” Mary Jane cut in. “There has to be roadblocks in every direction, and our mug shots will be all over the place.”
“I’ll think of something,” Wulf said.
The heat faded as the sun disappeared over the horizon. The sky transitioned from a lilac to a deep indigo as Mary Jane stretched her legs in the back seat of the Honda Accord. They’d been driving for about thirty minutes, and she felt Wulf’s gaze off and on. Her lips curved into a genuine smile as she remembered last night.
“Dylan, can’t I sit in the front seat with you?”
His eyes sparkled. “I detect a hint of manipulation. You use my first name for self-gain.”
Her eyes shaded slightly. She winked and in a seductive voice said, “C’mon, you love it when I say your first name. Let me out of these cuffs, and I’ll hum it like I did last night.”
“No, thanks.” He glanced through the rearview mirror, back at the road, and then at her again. The way her pink tongue slowly came out and licked her lips chipped at his rigid demeanor. “MJ, I’ll never forget you screaming out ‘Oh, Wulf’ all night long. That’s priceless. After we figure everything out, you and I can celebrate.”
Yeah, right, you already think I’m crazy.
“Hmmm, I didn’t say it like that, I said it like this.” She then said his name in a sultry voice.
His dark eyes melted her insides through the mirror. Every part of her body tingled with a primitive craving. Her initial plan was to play nice, then disappear at one of the truck stops along the way. She had to return to Santo Cruces City and put the pieces of the puzzle together. For her sanity.
He continued to glance through the rearview mirror. Mary Jane unbuckled her seat belt. Who was she kidding, this one last fuck would hit it out of the ballpark for the two of them. Then she’d leave him before he could “save her” and send her on her way.
His deep voice seemed to be weakening with desire by the second. “MJ, your safety is important, please put—”
Bam!
The car had been T-boned from the passenger side. The impact sent them flipping over and over.
17
The tires left rubber marks on the asphalt. Jake slammed the door to his Camaro and stepped on the curb at the crappy motel. It had taken hours to get Cody and Wyatt’s neighbors to talk.
Still in a state of unrest, he wondered if Hurricane had caught up with Mary Jane yet. Jake pulled the cap lower over his face. It wouldn’t do for Steward to see him since the girls should be moonlighting in the area already. Just before he gripped the door to the lobby, his cell phone went off.
The tune was different.
Only one person had this tune.
Intuition told him to just fuck it, not answer. But this was the boss of all bosses. “Hello,” Jake gritted out.
“How is my pet?” the scientist asked in a calm voice.
Call Mary Jane your pet again and I’ll take my sawed-off shotgun, press it into your motherfucking mouth, and watch your brains spray. “Good.”
“You hesitated, Jake. When I hire a person and that person proves incompetent, they are expired,” he said, tone never fluctuating. “Then another man is vetted and more is expected of him. You are that other man, Jake.”
“She is fine,” Jake growled.
Finally, a soft chuckle came through the line. “Good. Always recall who you work for. Beasley is replaceable. Everyone is replaceable, except for my…what’s that silly name she was given again? I would’ve never thought to call her—”