by Sienna Evans
He sighed.
“Who knew, Greyson?” I repeated, louder. My throat burned. My eyes stung. I could've fallen apart if I wasn't so pissed off.
“I don't know. Honestly, I don't care.”
“You can't give me half-truths and expect me to accept them.” My body shook right through. Tears hung on, along the inside of my eyelashes. I bit into my lips. I couldn't decide if I was more pissed off or broken.
He must've seen in, or at least felt the tension. “I'm here now. That was the past. I'm here with you, Celeste.”
“You went through all of that. I was oblivious. We…I assumed you'd just left.”
“You thought about me?” His pupils twinkled.
“Always.” I allowed my eyelashes to lay flat as I inhaled until I couldn't get an ounce more. Once I exhaled, I asked, “Did you…think about me?”
“Honestly Mad—Celeste, I tried not to.”
“Why not, Greyson?” I wanted to ask him if I meant that little to him. Those were just words though. So, I repeated, “Why not?”
“You're so much better than me,” he just about mumbled. Although he'd stopped pacing, I couldn't see his face again. I wanted to know his pain, his distress. He'd suffered through that time. And me feeling any of that through his expression or words was minor to him actually enduring that crap.
“I'm not better than anyone.”
“You're wrong.” He rushed over and fell to his knees in front of me. “You deserve a man who'll worship you. A man who's good. Not some punk who spent time sitting behind bars.”
“So, you avoided thinking about me?”
He smiled ever so slightly.
“For close to two years, you tried to pretend I didn't exist…”
“Imagine if I'd gotten ten or twenty years,” he threw back.
“Thank God you didn't. You received a light sentence,” I observed, trying not to allow my tears to show anymore.
“Just know this, Celeste, when it comes to prison, there’s no light sentence.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he replied right away. I lost the fight when another teardrop trickled down my cheek. He let go of my right hand and swiped away the moisture. He formed a smirk; like his idea of a smile. “Just before I was sentenced, Cohen came to visit me.”
“Did you ever find out his reasons for setting you up?”
“His daughter. I was screwing his twenty-four-year-old daughter.”
A pang of jealousy caressed the side of my face over that bit of detail, but I fought to not let it show. Seriously Celeste, did you think this man would be a virgin? That’s a non-issue; should be at least.
“I hadn’t planned on popping the question and settling down. I was young, having fun.Of course, I would leave her alone for a better sentence. I hated having to talk to the crook, but I did. I agreed. So instead of a fifteen-year mandatory minimum, I got eighteen months in federal and three on work release. When judgment comes calling, Philip Cohen better be at the front of the line with the rest of history’s evil criminals.”
“What about your own judgment or payback?” I was curious about his mindset. Sure, I might've been empathetic to what he’d gone through, but would he ever try to seek revenge?
“I don’t need to worry about revenge. I want to believe that good people will eventually get repaid for their deeds, and the bad ones too.”
“Karma?”
“No, just life,” he replied with conviction
“And Brendan…”
“Enough for today, Mad.”
“I'm not—”
Greyson
I hope my story was good enough to satisfy Celeste. Someday, when things were squared away, I’d have to give her more. I would reveal the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. For her sake, I could only hope she wouldn’t find out before I was ready.
On the way out of her place I shoved my hands into my pockets. Before I’d left the station, Naila had given me her number. I traced the raised lettering with my right thumb. In all honesty, she didn’t even look old enough to be in that position. There wasn’t a single line, at least not from what I could see. Women in law enforcement were much different from what I remembered. Classy, exquisite and sexy. No wonder Brendan was into her.
Speaking of the him, Brendan was waiting for me when I exited the building. He studied me, sizing me up to be exact. I finally stopped trailing the card and slapped my palms together.
“You’re seriously not going to back away from Celeste, huh?”
“Don’t you have a job, Detective Michaels? Or is it Head Detective?” I said with venom as the thought of how cold he was to him brother plagued my mind.
“Don’t deflect. Her family’s going to kill you.” He started off grinning, and then gradually began pounding at his chest while the laughter flowed. “You’re not a model citizen, but I don’t blame you for trying.”
“I don’t know what’s more pathetic-–you following me and Celeste around, or you trying to set me up over and over again.”
“Trying?”
“Look Brendan, stay the away from me and Celeste.” Around us, people marched up and down the sidewalk. We stopped right in the middle and let the world continue while we tried to not cause another scene. The sun beat down on us, like we were magnets pulling its energy. I was so done with anything having to do with my brother. “Just leave us alone.”
“Okay…okay. I’m sorry,” Brendan began as his hands rose in surrender. He then tilted his head and faked a smile.
“Do you think sorry is enough, for all of the harassment and twisted logic you feed off of?
“Don’t be an ass. We both messed up. No one is perfect; not me and not you, Greyson.”
“To hell with you, Brendan!”
“The bond between family never dies. You can do anything. I can retaliate. At the end of the day, we’re brothers and nothing will ever change that.”
I tossed back my head and shook it front left to right. The heat was sweltering and my patience was slipping.
“I have to go,” I said without making eye contact. I then took a few steps toward the end of the block. I knew he was wondering about the discussion I had with the broad from the precinct, but I’m sure he knew the gist of it. “Look Brendan, give me space.”
“Seriously?” He fell in stride with me.
I didn’t reply.
We paced on in silence.
“Don’t be stupid,” he continued, snapping his fingers several times. “At least, tell me about Celeste.”
“I feel like we’re living in some kind of alternate universe that makes you think this is okay.”
And like I never said a word to begin with, he pressed, “You’re really with her?”
“For fucks sake!” I reeled.
I turned away, heading in the opposite direction with my brother calling out my name like we might ever be able to get this right. If he knew what I knew, he would stop focusing on everything that didn’t matter. He’d tried to get right and go somewhere far away, where no one knew who he was, and no one would ever find him again.
But it wasn’t my place to say anything. His issues weren’t mine or anything he might’ve done in the past. I could forgive all of that, to a certain degree. The real issue was with Brendan’s connection and those Russian guys.
Celeste
After closing the door behind him, I pulled on a tank dress, no underwear or anything.. Studying kept taking back seat to what was still going on within me.
Civil Contracts. Constitutional Law. Evidence.
Everything led back to Greyson - his grimace, his piercing stare, his chiseled chest and so much more. I couldn't decide which excited me the most.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be caught up with someone when I was preparing for something like this. The Bar was no easy task. But, with everything going on, I couldn't imagine there would be a better time.
And then Quinn’s face flashed in my
mind. My poor, innocent cousin with big eyes and dreams. It might’ve been impossible to move forward with my plans now, but some day…
Boom! Boom! Boom!
I wasn’t expecting Greyson back so soon. I tiptoed to answer and didn’t bother to check the peephole before throwing open the door. Honestly, no one else visited me.
“Hellooo…” I was stumped to see Brendan. Cocking my left leg behind the door, I brought it closer in and refused to budge.
“Glad to see me?” he teased.
I replied with my middle finger.
“I always knew you’d grow up to be beautiful, CeCe.”
I curled my lips as I planned a reply. “First off, my name is Celeste.”
He smiled, and then nodded. His eyebrows arched upwards. Several lines extended across his forehead. He smirked like he had me under his thumb.
“Why are you here, Brendan?” I bit out in disgust. Making it clear he was the last person I wanted around me, I rolled my eyes and tossed my head several times.
“I wanted to check up on you. You had a hard time last night, didn’t you?” Brendan's smirk turned into a smile. He was so phony. After all of these years, I saw him for what he was—twisted! Every time I tried to look into his face, I wanted to throw up. He was disgusting. I squinted. I wanted to believe this wasn't our Brendan. But he was.
“Let me in. We need to talk, CeCe.” He pushed. I pushed back. He stepped forward. I did the same.
I breathed in, exhaling as my head rose. I trailed from his broad upper body to swollen jaw and pulverized skin, eventually settling on his bloodshot eyes. His scent was strong, a musky odor.
“C’mon. You had to know I’d come. Last night was unacceptable.” And he pushed hard…harder. I couldn’t hold him off any longer. The door was coming open and there was nothing I could do about it.
I turned to run, but before I could flee, he captured my waist and picked me up from the ground. Kicking and screaming, even throwing my arms around wasn't enough to put an end to his torture. My heart pounded against my chest. The vibrations stretched up and down my entire body.
I was pissed, livid…scared as hell.
Brendan wrapped his arms around me and spun us. Placing me on the kitchen counter, right behind the door as he kicked it shut, he stood directly in front of me. His breathing raged like a beast. He breathed heavily and licked his lips. I trembled but tried not to show him how scared I was. If I could only keep my limbs from betraying me, he might've thought twice before going further.
“I—We need you to stay away from Matryoshka and any of the men associated with that place.”
I cleared my throat, declaring, “And you come to me? Are you serious, Brendan? You’re a cop. A detective!”
“I don’t want to have to hurt you, Celeste. Play nice. These aren’t guys you’d want to mess with.” Brendan made a fist. I held out for an impact. “I’m not someone you’d want to mess with either.”
Boom!
Instead of his weapon slamming into my body, he pounded on the countertop next to me. His free hand wrapped around my neck, silencing my yelp.
“I could snap your neck.” He spoke slowly, spitting out the final word as a single bullet. Shark-like eyes ripped me apart. I inhaled a mixture of my strawberry fragrance and his sweat. The combination was nauseating. Still maintaining a hold on me, he passed the pad of his rough thumb across my lower lip with the other hand. “You’re too beautiful to end up dead.” Then in an inaudible pitch he added, “Too.”
I was afraid. I squeezed my thighs together. I knew the look in Brendan’s eyes; it sure wasn’t innocent. Nothing about this asshole was innocent. “Get off of me, Brendan,” I crowed against his finger. If only Greyson was here, this would not have been happening. Greyson would be livid. He’d explode, especially after learning that his brother put his hands on me. Brendan touched me like he could. Like it was a privilege he'd earned. “Greyson will kill you—”
Brendan’s dry lips crushed against mine. I gagged. I forced it down and instead quickly took in his lower lip and bit the hell out of him. He yanked me up, tossing me to the floor.
“Do you know who you’re dealing with, little girl?” Brendan screamed. “You brought yourself into this. No one dragged you in. Unlike Quinn, no one wanted you.”
“Quinn? Really Brendan?”
I tried backing away from him. I propped up on my elbows, my skin chilled against the floor, I was cornered. I was scared as hell.
“Stay away from me!”
This time, he touched my face and brushed my lips much softer. I flinched. I held my breath, wishing him away. I bit down to keep from crying. And then he was no more. I hopped up and ran to lock the door. I returned to the short kitchen counter, where he'd thrown me on like I was his property. For a second, I felt overrun with disgust. I'd let Brendan do all of that to me. I'd let him get and maintain the upper hand. I spun away from the countertop—couldn't stand to imagine it all over again.
Brendan touched me!
He threatened me!
He…He kissed me!
My back crashed to the counter before I sank to the ground. My crying grew louder, still causing my body to jerk. I could almost feel myself floating up and into the air, while I saw how very broken I've become.
He stood for everything I was against. I might’ve considered never going back or pursuing this any further, but he made me want to dig deeper. Brendan changed the rules when he showed up. And then, it crossed my mind. He’d made subtle comments about Quinn and her death. He’d threatened me to stay away. He’d hinted at my fate…one similar to my dear, sweet cousin’s.
“Quinn,” I called out, knowing I wouldn’t get an answer. Crawling out of the kitchen on all fours, my chest pulsed.
I had to find my phone, to reach Greyson and let him know. A small part of me wondered if that might only cause him to get taken advantage of by Brendan all over again. Those Russian thugs were sick, and connected in ways I could never fully understand. For everything Brendan had put him through, I had to figure out a way to change things. I wasn’t entirely sure of how, but I needed to.
For Quinn.
For Greyson.
Those men gave Brendan the strength he needed to pull this off. Perhaps, if I could find the major players, then I could make some moves. Hell or high water, I was willing to put my life on the line for what was right. I'd confront danger every single time, until my luck ran out.
I crawled until I reached a wooden stand at the entrance. My mind flooded with thoughts and images from over the course of the years—back then and now. With all that Greyson had shared, I had this horrible feeling that his brother might try to loop him in and turn this all around. I refused to allow Greyson to be pulled into that world.
I shook my head from left to right, first slowly and then swiftly. Salty tears kept rushing from my eyes, reinforcing the trail down my face and between my lips. I didn't stop to clean them up. Not wanting to admit what I already knew to be my fate, my body folded into the fetal position as I wept. Nothing could break me away from this mess with the Russians. The glue was Quinn's death. I’d opened Pandora’s Box, and there was no hope otherwise.
Stay far away?
How…Why would I want to do that?
Right was right. Wrong was so wrong!
My phone vibrated down the foot of a nearby table, jolting me back to reality. I placed two fingers at my temples and tried to settle my nerves. I inhaled a few times as the ringing ended. About thirty-seconds later, the message notification sounded. I extended my arm and felt for the phone. Greyson’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hi, Grey?” My fingers were too quick and dialed before I could gather my thoughts or even formulate some kind of excuse for not answering before. I still needed to process things, so I’d have to take the conversation slowly and steadily.
“Still studying?”
“Yeah…” My voice croaked. I hadn’t gotten up from the ground but didn’t want him to kno
w my hell. Not yet.
“I wanted to take you out.”
“Let me finish off and get back to you.”
“Okay…sure.”
Five minutes later, I got up from the floor, pulled on a fresh set of underwear and booties. I splashed my face, pulled my fingers through my hair and prepped my lips with a fusion glitter. After grabbing a brown leather satchel, I rushed out of my studio apartment. I took a steadying breath before stepping through the door. I closed it with one hand, while I searched out my cellphone with the other.
Greyson
After years pushing the limits, the lines have finally blurred. I wanted everything at one point in my life, now everything became nothing at all. Driving in the opposite direction, I paused to reflect. Five-seconds later, car horns blasted me. The city was impatient that way, and StuyTown was no exception. My life has been anything but patient.
When I'd first learned about Brendan and Mr. Cohen’s plans, I’d refused to accept what made sense all along. I'd fought the knowledge. Even when Brendan came to visit me after just one week of being locked up, I remember gazing into his burning stare long and hard. My instincts had warned me about him.
Brothers are forever, right?
Sitting in a mustang, trying to forget everything on the outside, I let my eyelids fall shut. The problem in doing so…reality was even more vivid.
My past. My present. Those were continuous nightmares.
My future. An onslaught of nightmares waiting to unfold.
But I now had hope. Just a little, but still hope. Celeste.
Only one last thing…
“I was expecting you, Greyson,” Naila Sanchez whispered, answering on the first ring.
“Why so sure?” I threw out at her. My fingers squeezed the sleek, black iPhone. I connected her to the Bluetooth.
“Where money is concerned, I can put my neck on the line.” She laughed. It had a smooth, sultry feel to it.
I grunted in response. Life was getting to me. These players were all in, thinking money was my God somehow lost its appeal. Day in and day out, brokering deals while watching my back has lost its appeal. As I sat in my ride, half listening to this broad ramble on and on about how good she was at near everything, I only had one desire.