They kept coming to me, one after another.
“Who’s Anthony?” Rosslyn asked after we’d almost been mugged.
“Just a guy I used to know,” I answered.
But did I really know Anthony?
Sure, he’d helped me out on the streets, but he was just another common criminal—another person out for himself.
I knew things about him. Things like he was seven years older than I was. He lived on the streets growing up and built his crappy empire from nothing. He was a foster kid like Vick and me, which was why he’d always helped us out. Also, he was crazy about Vick, another reason why he was so willing to help us out.
But the biggest thing of all that I knew about Anthony was his intimidation strategies. I’d seen him place a gun to someone’s head many times and he’d always say the same fucking thing.
I’m your worst nightmare. Just call me the boogeyman.
It was Anthony.
He was the one behind the letters.
A life for a life.
He was blaming me for Vick’s death.
Took him long enough.
But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I found him and put a stop to his bullshit. And the only way I was going to do that was to go back to where I’d come from.
The streets.
“PULL OVER HERE,” I SAID to the cab driver.
There was no way Mac would have gone along with my plan, and since I had yet to get my Honda back, a taxicab would have to suffice.
The driver slowed and parked behind Sebastian’s Jag. My eyes scanned the area, but Sebastian was nowhere to be found. Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned to see Sebastian walking down a long alleyway to my right.
I hesitated to get out, my fingers turning white from gripping the door handle. The entire area looked abandoned and shady. Broken black asphalt shined from the recent rain and trash littered the ground. I didn’t know what he was doing in such a place, but I was about to find out.
My eyes lingered on Sebastian’s back until he disappeared into a building. The metal siding on the building was rusted—broken pieces hung from the roof that looked ready to fall and impale the next passerby.
He was going inside alone. There was no telling who or what awaited him inside that building. Swallowing my nerves, I ran my fingers through my hair as I waited for him to come back outside. The window was down. The wretched smell of body odor and trash filled my nostrils. I silently wished I could breathe some fresh air.
I dug through my bag in search of my phone. I was useless when it came to helping Sebastian if he needed it, but at least I could call for help. My fingers brushed my gun and relief filled me. I’d tucked it inside before leaving the condo.
Then my fingers caught the edges of the white envelopes I’d stuffed inside before leaving Sebastian’s office. I pulled them from my bag. There were at least twenty of them—all addressed to Sebastian and all with the same jagged handwriting.
I started from the bottom and worked my way up the stack. With each letter, the unsettled feeling inside me grew. My stomach tightened in knots and the nausea that I’d been keeping at bay rolled around in my center—hot and disgusting.
Why had Sebastian kept this from me?
It didn’t make any sense, but then again, it did. Sebastian was always trying to keep me safe—always trying to keep me worry-free. Meanwhile, he took the brunt of everything—carrying the stress of three people around on his wide shoulders. I loved him for it, but it wasn’t working. He was going to make himself crazy.
My eyes scanned the next letter in the stack. The paper was more worn than the others were, as if Sebastian had read it repeatedly—folding and unfolding each time. When I reached the part of the letter telling Sebastian to leave me alone, it all made sense. This sick bastard, whoever he was, was the reason the last few weeks had been unbearable. He was the reason Sebastian had been so cruel. He was protecting me—pushing me away to keep me safe.
The meter was running, the cab driver slowly falling asleep in the driver’s seat, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t move—not until I knew Sebastian was okay—not until I knew what in the hell was going on. Instead, I continued to read the letters repeatedly—searching for clues that I knew I wouldn’t understand.
I didn’t know who the bastard was who wrote the letters, and I was sure Sebastian didn’t know either, but judging by the last letter, it sounded like he knew Sebastian.
It meant something personal to this guy, and he was hell-bent on making sure Sebastian was going to pay for whatever sin he was blaming him for. It made me fearful of what this guy possibly had planned for Sebastian, and from the sound of his letters, me too.
The only comfort I got out of the letters was that Sebastian did and always had loved me. He pushed me away because he thought he was doing what was best. He was trying to protect me. I understood that now. Even if I didn’t agree with the way he went about it, I knew it was Sebastian’s way of dealing with things. After everything that had happened with my parents, he wasn’t going to risk losing me too.
I just wished he would have come to me—trusted me enough to let me in. I wish he had told me what was going on. I would have understood—at least, I told myself I could have. I guess I couldn’t blame him really. Thinking back over the years, I’d done some ignorant things—things that could have gotten us both killed. In the end, we were both stubborn people who were willing to do whatever it took to keep the other safe.
The driver snored in the front seat and the time on my clock changed once again—another minute Sebastian was out of my sight. I couldn’t take it anymore. Opening the door, I tossed the money for the ride onto the front seat. The driver jumped when I slammed the door shut.
I crept across the street and into the alleyway where I’d last seen Sebastian. My eyes scanned the disgusting space, and I flinched as the smell of trash and sewer grew stronger. Making my way around the rust-covered building where Sebastian had gone, I tripped over the sidewalk and almost fell onto the gross asphalt. My fingers skimmed the rough outer shell of the building.
“Damn.” I hissed, pulling my fingers back to see blood rush to the surface.
“Now, that’s no way for a lady to speak,” a voice sounded from behind me.
I gasped and started to turn around, but whoever it was held me forward, his hand skimming my side and making my nausea thicken in my stomach. My purse fell to the ground, the letters and my gun spilling out onto the broken wet asphalt.
“I see you found my love letters.”
The sound of his voice in my ear was all too familiar, and I quivered at the sound of it. It was instinct to want to turn toward the sound of his voice, but he pushed the blunt tip of a gun into my side—the metal cold through my thin shirt—and it stopped me.
“Not just yet, sweetheart. You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?” I didn’t respond, and he just laughed. “That’s a good girl. Now, we’re going to take a little trip. Start walking.”
I did as he said, afraid to do anything else. My feet felt heavy as I moved. I left my purse, the letters, and my gun—the only thing I had to save myself—on the ground just outside where Sebastian was. I considered dropping to my knees and snatching the gun, but I knew I wasn’t faster than a bullet. And with his gun pressing into my side, I was as good as trapped. I wasn’t about to take that risk. Not with the life of my unborn baby on the line.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
The ground beneath my feet shifted as a wave of fear and dizziness swept over me.
“You read the letters, Rosslyn. You know exactly why I’m doing this. A life for a life, remember?”
“I don’t get it. Whose life was taken? Taking Sebastian’s life isn’t going to bring that person back.”
“Silly, stupid girl,” he spat angrily.
The gun dug harder into my side and I winced. I’d upset him. The gun moved from my side and brushed my chin before h
e stuck it to my neck. Closing my eyes, I silently prayed to live.
For Sebastian.
For our baby.
I just needed to live.
“It’s not Sebastian’s life I plan on taking. At least, not the way you’re thinking.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, holding back tears.
My voice was raw with emotion—harsh and gritty.
“And you won’t understand. Not right now, anyway. And until everyone’s joined the party, you’ll have plenty of time to wonder. Now, move your ass.”
I dragged my feet. My knees feeling weak and wobbly. I could feel it coming. I was going to faint. I was definitely going to pass out on the dirty asphalt with a gun digging into my neck.
“Fuck!” he roared behind me. “Fucking move.”
I didn’t see the blow coming. Instead, pain shot into the back of my head and down my spine when he smashed something against the back of my skull. I wobbled for a bit, hearing a string of his angry curses from behind me. Then the blackness moved into my vision slowly before swallowing me completely.
I SEARCHED ALL MY OLD haunts, asking every person I passed where I could find Anthony. I greased so many palms with benjamins that my wallet was practically empty, and still, I came up with nothing.
Not one fucking clue.
The fucker was hiding out somewhere and I’d find him. In time, I’d have my hands wrapped around his throat and I’d be choking the life from him. Oh, it would happen. I didn’t have any other choice. He chose to fuck with my world, so I was going to fuck up his.
Life for a life.
An eye for an eye.
He threatened me and mine, and I was going to end him. With a baby on the way, that was the way it had to be. I couldn’t sleep on this shit anymore. I needed to act.
For Rosslyn.
For our baby.
For my world.
Leaving Anthony’s final spot, a rundown metal building full of meth and its makers, the heavy door squeaked like a dying animal as it shut behind me. I stood here a minute, my hands on my hips, as I debated on where to go next. But there was nowhere else. I’d spent the day hitting every spot.
My car stood out next to the shitty area it was parked in. A few hoods stood close by, their grimy fingers skimming the perfect paint job as they debated stealing it. I started toward my car, pressing the button and making the horn beep and the lights flicker. The assholes standing around it jumped at the sound and lights and scattered like cockroaches.
I was almost to my car when I tripped over something and landed on my knees in the pitted asphalt.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I wiped my muddy hands against my expensive slacks.
It was then that I saw what I’d tripped over.
My heart stopped.
The ground went blurry as my blood pressure shot up and my fingers shook with nerves. Swiping up Rosslyn’s purse, surrounded by the letters and the pink gun I’d bought her years before, I held it in my grasp as I scanned the area around me.
She was there. Or at least, she had been there.
How else would her purse have gotten there?
She’d followed me. She’d followed me right into the fucking mouth of the beast, and now, there was no telling where she was. I had to find her before something terrible happened—before Anthony got his paws on her.
He was a dead man.
THE CLUB WAS IN FULL swing, people danced and laughed as if my life wasn’t in total chaos. People smiled at me and tried to talk to me as I made my way across the room toward my office.
“Hey, Black, have a drink with us, man!” Someone shouted as I passed, but I didn’t even look his way. I was on a mission, one that required every firearm I owned.
After finding Rosslyn’s purse, I searched the area on the verge of insanity. I’d even considered calling the police, but I knew they couldn’t do anything. It was up to me and me only. I called her phone only to hear it ringing inside her purse.
She was gone.
I’d tried to call Mac the entire drive back to the club, but he wasn’t answering, which put me into overdrive. Something was definitely wrong. Mac always answered.
I took the stairs to my office two at a time, my legs powering through the steps and pushing me to my goals.
Guns.
Finding Rosslyn.
And blowing Anthony’s fucking brains out.
Throwing open my office door, I hit the lights, but nothing happened. The room remained dark. I flipped the switch up and down, the clicking noise filling the room. And then realization set in and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
It was then that the lamp on my desk clicked on and I was able to see Rosslyn sitting in the middle of my office tied to my chair. She was unconscious, her face resting against her chest and her red hair, tinted with blood, falling down around her face keeping it covered.
I rushed toward her and fell to my knees in front of her. Her skin was cold to the touch when I lifted her head and pushed away her hair to reveal her pale face. My fingers felt the gash on the back of her head, and when I pulled my hand back, my fingers were stained with her blood.
“Rosslyn,” I whispered. My voice cracked with emotion and fear. “Please, Rosslyn.”
I’d never been a praying man, but at that moment, I sent up prayers to every deity in existence. She had to be okay. I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose our child. Cold had consumed my body, and I held my breath as I felt the side of her neck for a pulse.
A flicker of movement against my finger sent me reeling with joy.
She was alive.
Again, my fingers found the side of her head. She moaned, her head rolling lifelessly to the side, but still, she didn’t open her eyes. I went to work on the ties around her wrists, my fingers digging into the corded rope until the tips burned.
“I’m going to get you out of here, baby,” I promised. “You’re going to be okay.”
A chuckle sounded from the corner of my office and my head snapped up to find nothing but darkness.
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Sebastian.”
My eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness, and I could see the outline of his body lounging against the wall. I didn’t need to see his face. I’d never forget his voice—the lazy lean to it—the carefree grit.
It was Anthony.
Anger exploded inside of me. I’d been searching the entire fucking city for him, running from place to place, when he’d had every intention of coming to me.
“What’s wrong, Boogeyman?” I mocked his name. “Too much of a pussy to come into the light and face me like a fucking man?”
Again, his chuckle filled the dark corner.
“Looks like you finally figured out part of the puzzle. Took you long enough. I remember you being smarter than this, Sebastian. What happened, bro?”
“I’m not your fucking bro,” I snapped.
“Sebastian?” Rosslyn’s voice broke in.
I swung my attention back to her, and suddenly, we were the only two people in the room as my eyes locked on hers. She blinked and then her head rolled to the side again.
Bending over, I lifted her head until she was looking at me. Her eyes fluttered opened, but they closed just as fast.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” I checked her over, my hands lingering over her stomach. “Where does it hurt?”
“My head,” she moaned.
I kissed her forehead, her skin cold against my lips. “Anywhere else?”
She shook her head and moaned again. “There was a man. He … I don’t know what happened.”
Tears filled her eyes before rolling down her cheeks.
“Shhh,” I soothed her. “It’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Anthony’s chuckle filled the room again, and Rosslyn’s head whipped in his direction.
“Still making promises you can’t keep.”
And then something strange happened.
Rosslyn’s expression shifted from pain to confusion. Her breathing came out in a rush before she paused and shook his head. “Kevin? Is that you?”
The darkness in the corner shifted, and soon, Anthony’s face came into view. The boy I remembered from back in the day was long gone, and in his place was a man. The stubble on his face was a few days old and his clothes looked dirty. His eyes were red and bloodshot as if he was slowly coming down from one of his binges.
“His name’s not Kevin. It’s Anthony,” I said, tugging once again at the rope holding Rosslyn in the chair.
Anthony laughed. The sound radiating hatred in my heart.
He’d burn.
I’d kill him and he’d burn.
“Hey, pretty girl. Miss me?” he asked Rosslyn.
I was confused.
How the fuck did Anthony know Rosslyn?
And why was she calling him Kevin?
“Kevin Anthony Brewster,” Rosslyn whispered to herself as if she suddenly recalled something important. “I can’t believe this. You were my friend.”
Desperation and heartbreak filled her eyes.
“You’re sweet. Too sweet, actually. You made it so easy to move in on you,” he responded.
“You know him?” I asked, confused.
Rosslyn nodded, her eyes locked on Anthony.
“I was his probation officer, but we became friends.”
And then I remembered Mac telling me about Rosslyn’s friend. Kevin, she’d said his name was.
It was Anthony the entire time.
I swallowed hard, holding my emotions in check. This entire time, he’d been in charge. This entire time, he’d been in her life. He could have easily ended her. Killed her. Raped her. Whatever the hell he’d seen fit, but he didn’t. Instead, he decided to make my life a living hell. He’d decided to make me suffer by making me push her away.
“We were never friends, Rosslyn. You poor, stupid girl.” He shook his head. “You were my leverage, and you fell right into the palm of my hand. A word of advice … never trust a criminal.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because he …” He pointed at me with a gun I hadn’t realized he was holding. “Took something very precious from me.”
Little Black Box Set Page 41