Sugar and Sin Bundle

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  The kid’s long lashes lowered, shielding his expression. “What am I going to do?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

  He had to get through to the kid. If the cops tied the drugs back to him and the Guardians, it was game over. Everything he’d planned and worked for, his dreams of a better life for his family and his community, would be ruined. Chaz hardened his voice. “You’re going to shut the fuck up and do exactly what I tell you. And you won’t mention a word of this to Rémi or that bitch cop.”

  Corey frowned. “But they’re going to question me.”

  “Yeah. And you better not breathe a word about me, the Guardians, the Vipers, or the drugs. You blow this for me and you won’t have to worry about going to prison—you’ll be joining your girlfriend in the ground. You got that?”

  The boy’s face lost all color. “You’d kill me?”

  Chaz sighed. “I told you to keep your nose clean. You didn’t listen.”

  “But you’re selling the drugs!”

  “To the whites. I don’t care if they all die. Every last fucking one of them. As long as I get their money first.”

  “Ellie wasn’t like that. She didn’t deserve to die.”

  “She took the drugs of her own free will, didn’t she?” He waited for the kid to agree before continuing. “She was as weak as her cunt of a mother. People like that, fucking band-council supporters, they’re about as Indian as Rémi or that white SQ bitch. But with what we’re making on this deal with the Vipers, we can really change things here. We can drive the band-council scum off the fucking rez.” With AK bullets through their brains.

  At last, the boy seemed to understand the precariousness of his situation. He held up his hands in surrender. “What now?”

  “Because I like you, I’ll give you another chance. One more test of your loyalty to the Guardians. If you don’t fuck things up with the cops first.” Even if Corey did spill to the SQ about the grow op, Chaz had taken precautions. Precautions that pointed to Pete. Chaz barely suppressed a grin at his own genius.

  Corey head bobbed. “Anything, man. What do you want me to do?”

  “I’ll let you know when the time comes.”

  Someone as desperate to save his ass as Corey would make the perfect disposable soldier. While Chaz kept himself squeaky clean, the kid’s hands would get bloodier and bloodier.

  The hard plastic chair bit into Rémi’s ass. Were these torture devices meant to enhance the ER experience? All around him, people in various degrees of pain waited for their turn to see a doctor. Fevered children screamed while their distraught mothers cried; elderly men and women moaned in pain as their caretakers tried to comfort them. Hell. It was pure hell.

  But beyond the large double doors, in the trauma room Martha had been rushed in to, an even more hellish scene was playing itself out. A scene from every parent’s nightmare. He’d never forget her screams when she’d first arrived: Where’s Ellie? Where’s my baby?

  Unable to stand the emotions saturating the air around him, Rémi crossed the reception area to the row of vending machines against the far wall. He pushed a couple loonies into the coin slot and selected a soft drink. After popping the can open, he took a long gulp. The cold liquid relieved some of the tightness in his throat, but it did nothing to alleviate the ache in his chest. He knew exactly what the doctors were telling Martha.

  When he’d arrived with the ambulance, the paramedics had wheeled Ellie’s gurney through those same double doors. A half dozen running doctors and nurses had immediately followed. Only minutes later, they’d all exited, confirming what he’d already known. Ellie was dead.

  In all his years of counseling, he’d read about dozens of drug-related deaths. But he’d never heard of anyone dying from smoking half a joint of weed. Something else had to have been in that joint.

  Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, he dialed Alyssa’s number and started pacing the long corridor while he waited for the call to connect. Maybe she had some news. When she answered, the sound of her voice took some of the edge off his frayed nerves. “Hi Rémi. How are you holding up?”

  “Better now that I’m talking to you.”

  “Any news?”

  “Martha’s in the trauma room with the doctors. But I think we both know what they’re telling her.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rémi.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Any news on your end? You guys know what was in the joint?”

  “MacLean opened it up. The joint contained marijuana and an as yet unidentified white substance. We’ll do some tests on it, but MacLean thinks it’s MDPV.”

  The entrance doors loomed in front of him. He stopped pacing to watch as another ambulance drove up. “MDPV. You mean bath salts?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck. Any news about Corey?”

  “We haven’t located him yet. Think you’ll be at the hospital much longer? I can come over and pick you up.”

  Warmth spread in his chest, almost easing the ache that had been there since they’d found Ellie at the skatepark. He needed Alyssa right now. Needed to hold her in his arms. Needed to feel her warm, smooth skin against his own. “I’d appreciate that. We can give Martha a lift too.”

  He hung up and polished off the rest of his soft drink, then tossed the empty can into the recycling bin. He resumed his pacing, swinging his arms and rolling his tight shoulder muscles.

  But as time passed and the cries and moans from the waiting room wore away the small comfort Alyssa’s voice had given him, images of the day his mother died flashed in his head—her pale body and hollow eyes, the flashing lights and wailing sirens, people rushing, people stopping; his grandfather, a stranger, arriving to take him away. He sank into an empty chair and dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples to drive out the memories.

  The trauma room doors banged open and Rémi’s head snapped up. With a determined step, Martha headed for the exit. When she spotted him, she changed course. Rémi stood and met her halfway. He opened his arms to offer her a hug. “I’m so sorry, Martha.”

  Her eyes drilling into his, she poked him in the chest. Hard. “Rémi Whitedeer, this is all your fault.”

  He turned his palms up. “We all loved Ellie.”

  “Liar! If you’d loved her, you would have kept her away from that good-for-nothing kid. Ellie was a sweet girl. But she would have done anything for that boy.” Her voice caught on a sob. “You should have warned us.”

  Rémi dropped his arms and bowed his head. Martha was right. He should have told her about Corey’s growing drug problem and his involvement with the Guardians. Should have at least talked to Ellie. On the other hand… “I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but we don’t know that Corey was even involved.”

  “Not true. Ellie told Bea she was meeting Corey after work. He was there.”

  “Corey really cared about Ellie. He wouldn’t have left her like that.”

  “Yeah? If he cared so much, where the hell is he right now?”

  Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

  “I’ll tell you where he is,” she continued, answering her own question. “That little coward is hiding, and how much do you want to bet that terrorist cousin of yours knows exactly where?”

  Movement to the side caught his attention. A security guard had noticed their argument. Martha needed to calm down. He tried to cup her shoulders, but she batted his hands away. “Don’t touch me.”

  Reaching for her arm, he tried again. “I know you’re angry and hurt. But this won’t be like with Charles. I promise. I’ll be on the SQ’s ass until this is solved.”

  She stopped fighting him and listened.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but not by accusing people without evidence.”

  Her eyes flashed and her lips pulled back into a snarl. Shoulders rigid, she poked his chest again. “Fuck evidence. I know he was there. I know he gave her those drugs. And I know that if you’d been honest with me, my
little girl wouldn’t be dead.”

  Rémi stared at her, unable to say a word. She was right. Ellie was an innocent girl who’d gotten in way over her head. She’d had no business dating a messed-up kid with a drug addiction. Maybe if he’d gone against the rules this one time, Ellie would still be alive.

  Alyssa ran through the doors and zeroed in on him and Martha. He’d never been so glad to see someone in his life. She’d know what to do. Without saying a word, she pulled Martha into her arms.

  Martha hesitated, then wrapped her arms around Alyssa and rested her head on Alyssa’s shoulder. “This can’t be happening. Ellie’s life can’t be over already.” Her voice cracked and a sob tore from her throat, the sound so raw, so rough, Rémi wanted to cover his ears. The two women continued to hold each other, slowly rocking from side to side until Martha’s tears slowed.

  Feeling like a tool, Rémi backed off and kept silent guard. After what could have been forever, Martha lifted her head and offered Alyssa a shaky smile. Streaks of mascara ran down her face. Alyssa wet her thumb and started wiping the mess on Martha’s cheeks. Within seconds, her fingers were black. Martha sighed. “I really need to get cleaned up, don’t I?”

  Alyssa smiled softly. “Come on, I’ll go with you to the ladies room.”

  Martha shot him another black look, and followed Alyssa across the waiting room to where the washrooms were located. A minute later Alyssa returned, stopping a few feet away from him, and studied his face. “Are you okay? You look wiped.”

  No, he wasn’t alright. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, but he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t touch her at all—they were in a public place. He plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll be okay. Martha just forced me to realize a few things.”

  Alyssa’s brows drew into a frown. “Such as?”

  “It is my fault Ellie’s dead.”

  “What? You did everything you could to resuscitate her, even though we both know she was already dead at the scene.”

  Her defense of him only made him feel worse. He dropped his gaze to her boots. “If I’d told Martha about Corey’s problems, she would have kept Ellie away from him.”

  “That’s bullshit. Don’t you remember being sixteen? I certainly do. The more my parents told me not to do something, the more I did it. Ellie would have continued to see Corey no matter what you did or didn’t do. Besides, don’t you have some confidentiality agreement with your clients? It would have been unethical for you to tell Martha or Ellie anything.”

  Rémi threw his hands in the air. “Fuck ethics. Ellie’s dead because I didn’t have the balls to break the rules. I’m a fucking lemming.”

  Alyssa reached out and grabbed one of his hands. “You’re being way too hard on yourself.”

  He shook her off and folded his arms across his chest. “No. That’s just it. I haven’t been hard enough.” She wanted to protect him because she cared. But she was wrong. He turned and stalked toward the door. Her boots thudded on the tiles as she chased after him. “Rémi, where’re you going? I thought we’d drive Martha home and then we could talk.”

  Without turning around, he waved to her over his shoulder. “I need some time. Alone.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Rémi stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to Alyssa’s motel room, the morning sun poking holes in his brain. He felt like a complete moron. If he knocked on her door, she might slam it in his face. But if he waited for her to come out, he might be here all day.

  Both choices sucked.

  Balancing the two cups of coffee he’d brought in one hand, he checked his watch. Shit. It was almost time for him to be at the Longhouse.

  Deciding on the most expedient option, he placed his foot on the first step but froze at the sound of a door opening above him. Alyssa came into view, wearing a pair of navy slacks with a matching flower-print blouse, a purse on one shoulder, a gym bag on the other. With her hair pulled back in a golden ponytail, she looked healthy and so fucking beautiful.

  Catching sight of him, she stopped, her hand on the rail. “What’re you doing here?”

  How had they come to this? The flight of stairs separating them seemed as insurmountable as Mount Everest. Holding out the cup of coffee, he shot her a wry grin. “A peace offering?”

  “What? No wampum belt?”

  He chuckled, then turned serious. “Sweetheart, we need to talk.”

  She frowned. “I think you said enough last night.”

  “Come on, Alyssa. Cut me some slack.”

  When she tromped down the stairs, he reared back to get out of her way. Passing by him, she grabbed one of the cups of coffee and took a large gulp as she crossed the parking lot to her car. He came up behind her, and she spun around. “Just so you know, I told Martha everything you did to help Ellie last night. She’s still mad at you, but at least she understands why you couldn’t tell her about Corey’s problems. Ellie looked up to you, so Martha decided she wants you to be the ‘speaker for the bereaved clan,’ whatever that means.”

  Alyssa had smoothed things over with Martha for him? “Thank you. You can’t know how much this means to me.”

  “I’m glad I could help. Now get out of my way.” She walked to the back of the car and unlocked the trunk.

  His gaze never straying from her face, he opened the lid for her. She lifted the gym bag off her shoulder and threw it inside. When she started to round the car toward the driver’s side door, he slammed the trunk shut and with a hand on her elbow, twirled her around. “Listen, I came here to apologize. I’m sorry if I treated you badly.”

  “If?”

  “Poor choice of words.” He reached for her, but she pressed a hand to his chest, holding him at arm’s length.

  “You have no idea why I’m upset.”

  No, he really didn’t. His track record with anything other than casual flings sucked, and that had never bothered him before. It did now. “Last night was hard on everyone,” he hedged.

  She sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “It’s more than that. I might as well have been a piece of furniture.”

  “You do make a comfortable bed.” His lips quirked at the images that conjured in his mind. Until he caught the fire in Alyssa’s gaze. Oh shit.

  She planted her hands on her hips. “You pushed me away at a time when you needed support. Support I was more than willing to give. That hurt.” Something glinted in her eyes before she blinked it away. Throwing her shoulders back, she raised her chin. “That told me exactly what you think of me and this”—she waved a hand between their bodies—“this whatever you call it.”

  “I call it a relationship.”

  “Bullshit.” She slammed her cup of coffee on the roof of the car, yanked her keys out of her pocket, and turned to unlock the door. “You made it clear last night that I’m nothing more than a fuck buddy.”

  Fuck buddy? The sex hadn’t been all that romantic, granted, but still... she was the one with the problem, not him. Hadn’t she pushed him away when he’d tried to kiss her at the diner? “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who’s ashamed to let people know we’re together.”

  He turned and walked around the front of her car, heading back to his. This argument wasn’t getting them anywhere. And on the first day of Ellie’s funeral, he’d really rather not be having it at all. Her car door slammed. Good. They both needed some cooling-off time.

  As he rounded the front of the black SUV parked next to her car, she caught up to him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” she spat, grabbing the back of his shirt. “We decided to keep this on the QT because you don’t want your family to know you’re dating an SQ officer.”

  He whipped around and bent down so their faces were only a couple inches apart. His heart pounded with the rousing tempo of a war drum. He should just keep his mouth shut and leave. But he couldn’t stop himself. It needed to be said. “And you don’t want your cop buddies to know you’re dating an Indian.”
/>
  “That’s as much for you—”

  He heard a small pop and spotted a trail of smoke rising from her car. Grabbing her shoulders, he pushed Alyssa down to the ground on the far side of the SUV.

  “What the—?”

  Her words were cut off by an ear-splitting blast.

  Landing on the asphalt with Rémi on her back, Alyssa had the wind slammed out of her. She struggled to draw air into her lungs and come to grips with what was happening. His mouth was near her ears and she could feel his lips moving as though he were talking, but she could only hear a loud ringing. What the hell was going on?

  Above her, Rémi’s body jerked. Something hit the back of her calf, searing through the material of her slacks and into her skin. Biting down on her wrist, she muffled her screams. If they were under attack, the last thing she wanted was to give away their location. Maneuvering sideways, she tried to get out from under Rémi so she could assess the situation, but he caged her between his powerful arms and used his hands to shield her face.

  Through the web of his fingers, she saw pieces of metal and glass on the ground in front of her. She reached a hand out to touch one. Rémi yanked her arm back against her body, but not before a jagged piece of falling metal embedded itself in his hand.

  Their movements brought smells to her, burning rubber and metal. That last thing she remembered hearing was a loud boom. Had a bomb exploded? Rémi eased off her and onto his heels, yanking the metal shard out of his hand. She pushed up and crouched next to him.

  As she took in the extent of the damage, her breath caught.

  Acrid smoke blanketed the area, scorching her throat. The windows of the black SUV they’d fallen next to were blown out, as were those of the blue sedan to their left. And everything was eerily quiet. She pushed on her ears to even out the pressure. Shaking her head, she stood up. Several women from housekeeping stood on the porch of the motel or peeked out of room doors. Alyssa took several steps toward them. One of the ladies pointed to something behind Alyssa’s back. She turned to see the burning shell of her car. A sob rose in her chest and her knees buckled.