by B. B. Hamel
“I don’t care,” I say, fear spiking. “Just tell me.”
He shrugs, rolling his shoulders and neck. “My real name is Dawson Sparks, and for ten years, I was the biggest drug dealer in New York.”
“Drug dealer?”
He nods. “I started out young, doing the count, handing off, shit like that. But I rose through the ranks, until one day, I put a bullet through the eye of the previous top dog. Took over most his operations with my partner after that, cleaned up any guys that wouldn’t get in line.”
“Cleaned up?” I ask even though I don’t want to know.
“Like I said, this isn’t my first body.” He sighs and looks almost sad. “Things went good for years. We had our problems. I did a little time a few years back, nothing major. Made a lot of money. Until one day, some new guys started moving in on our turf.”
“Is that who came here?” I ask him.
“That’s what I thought at first,” he says softly. “Back in the city, these new guys were aggressive and well-funded. My boys started disappearing. We tried to speak with their leaders, but they brought us into a trap, the spineless fucking piece of shit. They killed my partner and I barely got away with my life.”
I bite my lip. I don’t know how much of this story I believe, but then again, there is a dead guy wrapped in plastic ten feet away.
“After that, I kept fighting, but a lot of my boys broke ranks. We lost a lot of guys. I stayed in the city until the bitter end, but when it was clear we were going to lose, I decided to get the fuck out of there.”
“So you came to Pine Grove?”
He nods. “Yep. Felt like a good spot to disappear. I was fucking careful, used a fake name, paid in cash.” He hesitates and grins. “Well, fake last name, at least.”
“But they found you.”
He looks at me. “Yeah. Someone found me.”
“Who?”
He sighs, staring down at the ground. “My partner, his name was Marcus. I watched him take a bullet to the fucking chest. I watched him go down, watched the blood spread all around him. I watched him go still. I watched him fucking die.” He takes another deep breath and lets it out. “But tonight, I saw a ghost.”
“Marcus,” I say softly. “I heard that name.”
“That was him. I know it was him. But how he’s alive, I just… I don’t know.”
“This is insane,” I say suddenly and stand. “This is absolutely insane. I want to go home.”
His eyes meet mine, icy and calm. “Sit down, Celine.”
I hesitate, but slowly sink back down onto the root. “I don’t believe any of this bullshit.”
He laughs, bitter and angry. “I don’t really care, honestly. I’m telling you the truth because… well, I don’t fucking know why. I guess because you’re involved now.”
“Involved?” My eyes go wide.
“You were there. You heard him speak, and I’m pretty sure he saw you.”
“He saw me?” I say softly.
“Marcus doesn’t forget a face and he doesn’t leave loose ends.” He sighs and stands up. “If you want to stay alive, you’re going to have to trust me.”
He walks back over to the grave and starts digging.
I watch him silently for a while. The muscles in his body tense and flex as he works, efficiently and effortlessly. If it weren’t for the sweat on his skin, I’d think he wasn’t even trying.
I don’t know how much of that story I believe. It’s a good story, but just that, a freaking story. It’s way over the top, way absurd, and yet…
There are some things that add up. Like, he bought the house in cash, like a drug dealer would. And some guys did try to come kill him.
Still, it’s so insane. One second, I’m losing my virginity, and the next, some guys are breaking into this strange man’s house and he’s shooting at them.
I watch Dawson dig some more. The sun is starting to peek out over the horizon, and I feel a sudden bone-deep exhaustion.
There’s no way out of this. I know it just as well as he does. Except instead of rolling over and giving up, Dawson’s down there, digging.
He didn’t attack those guys. They came after him and he only did what he had to do. Maybe he killed before, maybe he did some horrible things before, but…
I’m here and I can’t change it.
I stare at his body. He looks back at me, cocks his head.
“What do you say, love?” he asks. “Fancy digging?”
I slowly get up from the root. I walk over to the truck and grab the second shovel from the back. He watches me carefully as I walk over and drop down into the shallow hole with him.
“That’s my girl,” he says softly, a smile on his lips, as my shovel bites into the soft ground.
6
Celine
I stare out the window as the trees flash past. My hands ache and I have dirt under my nails. Even with my help, it took another hour until the grave was deep enough.
Dawson dropped the body in himself. “Don’t look, love,” he whispered in my ear and steered me back to the truck. I sat up front and stared straight ahead as he buried the body alone.
Back in the truck, we’re speeding toward town again.
“The problem with Marcus is he uses people,” Dawson says. “That was always his thing, even back when we were first starting out. He used people against each other. It’s his favorite tactic.”
“So what?” I ask.
“So, you’re in just as much danger as I am. He’ll figure out who you are, and he’ll use you against me.”
I frown a little. “Would it work?” I ask.
He laughs gently. “You don’t want to find that out. Better we avoid the issue altogether, yeah?”
“Okay.” I let out a breath. “What do we do?”
He glances at me. “You’re just coming along?”
I chew my lip. “I just helped you bury a body. I don’t think I have much of a choice.”
“You always have a choice. But I’m telling you, I’m your only shot at getting through this alive.”
I nod and stare back out the window. Trees and more trees. Pine Grove feels like a tiny town lost in a sea of trees, swallowed up, cut off from the rest of the world.
We really are alone out here.
“We’ll lie low,” he says. “Find a motel, get a room, pay in cash. I don’t know how Marcus found me out here, or how he’s even alive, but he doesn’t have the drop on me anymore.”
“Will that be safe?” I ask him.
“Safe as it can be. Once we’re holed up, I’ll go hunting.” There’s a sadistic glean in his eyes.
“You’re going after him?”
“No other way,” he says. “Marcus won’t stop. So we take it to him.”
I chew my lip again. “I don’t know,” I say.
“Worst-case scenario is I get killed and you won’t have a problem anymore.” He shrugs. “Can’t use you against me if I’m already dead.”
“Sounds like a best-case scenario to me.”
His eyes flash and he grins at me. “I meant for me.”
I can’t help but smile a little at that. “Okay, so he’s dangerous. Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to go after him? I mean, you guys were partners. Can’t you make some kind of deal?”
“I don’t know,” he says softly. “The Marcus I knew died back in New York, but this man…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know anything at all, do you?”
He glares at me. “If you want to survive this, you should probably learn to trust me.”
I shrug a little and go back to watching the trees.
We pull into Pine Grove twenty minutes later. We stop at my apartment first and he follows me inside, checking each room before letting me pack.
“Five minutes,” he says.
I give him a look and close my bedroom door.
For a second, I don’t move. I think about running away, about escaping, about calling som
eone for help.
But there’s nowhere to go and nobody that’ll help.
I grab a backpack from my closet and jam it full of clothes. I grab some spare cash and my phone, which of course I had left at home before going to work earlier like an idiot. I jam it all into my bag and manage to get into the bathroom to grab a toothbrush before Dawson’s voice comes down the hall.
“Time’s almost up, love.”
I sigh and throw the pack over my shoulder. He nods at me as I emerge, and we leave together. I can tell he’s on edge, but nothing bad happens.
“I need to do something,” I say to him as we start driving.
He glances at me. “What’s so important?”
“I need to quit my job.”
He sighs. “That can wait.”
“No. I’m not just skipping out on Mae.”
“You can apologize when this is all over.”
“Dawson,” I say seriously. “Stop at the bar. I’m not going with you unless you do.”
His hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, but he doesn’t argue.
We pull into Hammy’s parking lot and I get out.
“Five minutes and I come looking for you,” he says.
I nod and hurry inside. It’s mostly empty, which is pretty normal for this early in the day. Mae’s behind the bar, drinking a cup of coffee, while the regulars sip their first beer of the day.
“You’re not working, are you?” she asks as I head toward her.
“No,” I say. “Actually, I’m here to quit.”
She looks surprised. “Really? You’ve been doing so good.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Something came up and I won’t be able to come in for any more shifts for a little while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Well, okay then,” she says slowly. “You don’t have to quit. When you’re ready to come back, just come back.”
Relief floods over me. “Thank you,” I say softly.
“Sure.”
“Can I ask another favor?”
“Go ahead.”
“I was hoping you could pay me. Plus credit card tips.”
She laughs softly. “I thought so. Wait here.”
She disappears in the back. She’s gone for a few minutes and I keep expecting Dawson to come kicking down the door looking for me, but he doesn’t appear.
Mae comes back with an envelope. “Wages plus tips owed,” she says, but pulls it back before I can take it. “You okay, Celine? You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No,” I say, giving her my most convincing smile.
She doesn’t look impressed. “I’ve been here in this town for a long time and I’ve seen girls like you over and over again,” she says softly. “You always seem to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. I’m just saying, be careful.”
“I will be,” I say, a little shaken. She hands me the envelope.
I take it and slip it into my back pocket.
“Good luck,” Mae says.
I nod and turn away. The white-haired older man that’s always in this place catches my eye before I leave. He smiles a little bit and a chill runs down my spine.
I hurry past him and out into the parking lot.
Dawson looks agitated. “You okay?” he asks.
“All good,” I say, climbing into the truck.
He sighs. “Okay then. Let’s go.”
We start driving, and all I can think about is what Mae said back in the bar.
They all end up dead in a ditch.
Is that going to be me?
But no, that’s crazy. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I mean, this is just some safe, tiny little town. If a bunch of girls had ended up dead, people would be talking about it.
I sigh and look at Dawson. His face is tired but still handsome, still in control.
I want to lean across the truck and touch his cheek. I stop myself. I force myself to remember.
He’s a killer. Maybe he has a beautiful face, but he’s a killer.
Dawson catches my eye and smiles. A thrill runs through me.
Beautiful and a killer. I’m not sure which one is worse.
7
Dawson
We find this little bed and breakfast a ways outside of town, off the beaten path. I figure it’s safe enough, so we get a room from an older woman that smells like kitty litter and smiles like we’re her first guests in ages.
From the state of the place, we probably are.
“Glamorous,” Celine says as she sits on the edge of the bed and bounces up and down.
“Safe,” I correct her.
“Are you sure? We might die of, I don’t know, flea bites or something.”
I laugh at that. “Not the worst way to go.”
“Probably up there, though.”
“Probably.” I sit down next to her. “Listen, Celine. You’re doing great so far.”
“Thanks,” she says, looking at the floor.
I put my hand on her leg. I know she’s afraid of me. I can see it in the way she leans away and flinches a little when I come near.
I don’t want her to be afraid, but I’ll use it, for now at least.
Marcus is a real threat. He’s out there and he’s coming. He really will use Celine against me if I let him.
I just can’t let him. That means keeping Celine close.
Fucking hell. Maybe he didn’t see her during the fight, and this is all for nothing. I can’t risk it, though.
I know Marcus better than anyone else. We were good partners, back in the day. He was the enforcer and I was the businessman. I kept the operation running, and he kept the competition at bay.
He was ruthless and brutal and he never, ever forgot a damn thing. That was what made him so formidable. He was always a step ahead of the people that kept coming after our empire.
That’s how we lasted for so long. I like to think it was partly my management of the whole thing. Which definitely helped, but I now realize that it was Marcus.
After he was gone, things slowly unraveled. Without his ruthless efficiency, our fighters lost their teeth. And eventually, we lost the fucking war.
I had nothing left. My partner and friend was dead. My empire was nearly entirely destroyed. My people were turning their backs on me.
I had nothing left. And so I ran.
But here I am, my past catching up to me already.
She looks at me, head cocked slightly. I squeeze her thigh and move closer to her.
“Celine,” I say softly. “Can you do something for me?”
She bites her lip. I like that little habit. “What?”
“Give me your phone.”
She hesitates and I see her glance at her bag. “I don’t have it.”
“Don’t lie to me.” I take her chin and turn her face toward me, looking into her eyes. “Give me your phone.”
She hesitates, frowning, but gets up and grabs it. She hands it to me.
“Thank you. I have to make a call. You stay here.”
“Who are you calling?”
“A man named Omar,” I say. “Another ghost from my past.”
She watches me go without a word.
I head down the old, creaking steps and outside. The old woman that runs the place is sitting on a rocking chair. “Going for a walk?” she asks.
“Just making a call.”
She nods and spits on the ground. “Reception is better that way,” she says, pointing west.
“Thanks.” I walk off in that direction, phone in my hand.
I haven’t spoken with Omar since I left. That feels like so long ago. He was one of the last men left around me, one of my closest advisors, my right-hand man. Omar is still in the city, as far as I know, although I gave him money and begged him to run.
Good old Omar, loyal even then.
I dial his number, half expecting it not to work, but he picks up.
“Who’s this?” he grunt
s.
“Hello, Omar.”
“Holy shit.” I can hear the pure surprise in his voice. “Dawson?”
“We don’t have long. I need to know something.”
“I thought you were dead, man. I thought…”
“I’m not dead,” I say. “Who told you that?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “Shit’s changed, Dawson,” he says softly.
“Marcus is alive.”
He sighs. “I know.”
There’s a long silence. I stand there, staring out into the trees, anger rolling through me.
“How?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But once you were gone, he appeared again, started taking over like nothing happened. He rebuilt the whole thing, but this time, we’re selling all over the coast, man.”
“All over the coast?”
“Down in Philly, in Baltimore. Million other places between. We’re fucking expanding.” Omar laughs ruefully. “He made me a captain.”
“Good for you,” I say.
“Dawson, man, he brought in these other people. South American guys, I think they’re from Nicaragua but I really don’t know. They… they don’t fuck around.”
“Shit,” I say softly.
“Where are you, man? Seriously, tell me where you are. I can help you.”
Something tingles on the back of my neck, like someone is watching me. “How do you know I need help?”
He’s silent for a second. “Why else would you call?” he says, laughing, but it’s forced and tense.
Fucking hell.
Even Omar turned on me.
“How much of what you just told me is true? At least tell me that much, Omar. After everything.”
He hesitates a second. “Marcus really is back, and we really are expanding. And he really does have some fucking scary associates.”
I sigh. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Dawson—”
I hang up the phone.
I stand there, staring at the woods.
My old partner fucked me. It all seems so clear to me now.
Those mysterious guys picking apart our empire. The way he died suddenly, in the middle of what was supposed to be a negotiation.
It was all him from the start. It had to have been. Who else could destroy us but Marcus himself?