X-394

by Dee Garcia

  I shuddered at the image that thought provided, the sound of my teeth chattering reverberating off the shower walls around me. It broke through the momentary haze, and my eyes darted to my hand flat on the tiles, deep purplish-blue nail beds reminding me just how icy the water had gone. The pads of my fingers were pruned too, and I knew it was time to get out, but I was wallowing, and the solitary confines of my bathroom allowed me to wallow in peace. I couldn’t very well stay in there forever though. At some point in time I’d have to face my demons, in one way or another.

  Begrudgingly, I forced a hand down on the nozzle and shut off the water, goosebumps instantly prickling my skin as I stepped out into the cool surroundings of my bathroom, the chilled air enveloping me from head to toe. I snatched my towel off the counter and wrapped it around myself without bothering to actually dry off first. All I wanted was the safety of my bed. I didn’t slip into pajamas either, crawling under the sheets with the hope of sleep taking pity on me and whisking me away from the depraved depths of my reality. Curling into a ball, I snuggled into the duvet and much to my surprise, the world around me slowly began blurring over, growing darker and darker until I slipped into oblivion.

  How long I’d been out was entirely irrelevant when my phone started blaring on the nightstand. Jolting with a gasp and all, my heart racing, I reached for the offending source and lifted it to my ear, croaking, “Hello?”

  “Petal, its Liana.”

  Jesus Christ.

  I let out a deep breath, relief flooding me from the sound of her sweet voice.

  “Hey, girl. What's—”

  “He's here,” she said in a rush.

  Freezing at the urgency of those two little words, I shot up right and all but blurted out, “Who?”

  Shuffling through various loud spaces oozed from her end of the line, and at one point, I heard her tell someone she was going outside, followed by the door flying open. Then she said something I hadn't expected to hear.

  “LeRoux.”

  The sound of his name was an instant wake-up call. Anger flared in place of fear and I raked a shaky hand through my still damp hair as I processed what Liana had just said.

  “You're sure it's him?” I asked after a beat.

  “I'm positive. He matches the description Luca gave me a few weeks ago.”

  “And he’s still there?”

  “He is, and so is the large envelope he handed me when I went to take his order a few minutes ago. Said it's for you.”

  What the hell?

  Pulling the phone from my ear, I checked the time and mentally calculated how long it would take me to get to where she was. The pub she'd recently begun working at since returning home from Italy was about an hour away, which wouldn't have been so bad if a certain Frenchman wasn't part of the equation. How he knew who Liana was and where she worked was beyond me, but it made the situation that much more dire, meaning I had to get to Yankee’s a lot faster than NYPD would ever appreciate.

  “I'm on my way. Do not leave until I get there, Lia, do you hear me?”

  “But we close in half an hour and I have pl—”

  “I don't care,” I cut her off, scampering around my room to get dressed. “LeRoux may lurk around after supposedly taking his leave, and I can't risk you getting hurt. I'll be there soon, okay?”

  “Ugh, fine. Should I call anyone in the meantime?”

  I stilled, halfway into my jeans, my eyes widening in alarm. “No. No, no, no. Do not call anyone. Not Luca, not my brothers, no one. I've got this under control.”

  “You sure?” she asked warily.

  “Yes, I'm sure. Hang tight and act as naturally as possible. Who knows what Gaspard might do if he even so much as senses the slightest thing off. Think you can handle that?”

  Liana giggled, and I could practically feel her eyes rolling. “I may not be a vicious bitch like you, but Dad taught me a damn good poker face. I've got this.”

  My mouth tilted in a smile at her candidness. It proved my personal little theory that although she might've been a saint standing beside me, the fire of her family’s legacy could not be put out.

  “The famous Ravenna poker face. Play him good and keep calm. I'll be there in less than an hour,” I said, pulling a long-sleeved black shirt over my head.

  “Drive safe, Petal.”

  That was the last thing I heard as I snatched my key ring off the vanity and barreled through the door of my room like a bat out of hell. I made it all of fifteen steps into the hallway before running headfirst into a very familiar rock-hard body.

  My hands curled around his biceps and I glanced up into clear blue eyes.

  “Woah.” Luca’s hands fell to my waist, dark brows instantly worrying together at my hurried state. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just, um, I have to get somewhere,” I said, wiggling from his grasp in an attempt to get around him.

  He was literally the last person I wanted to see, especially at a time like this. I didn't get very far, though.

  Catching my arm in a firm grip, he yanked me to an abrupt stop. “Where?”

  A tense silence fell between us as I contemplated my answer. If I told him the truth, he'd without a doubt follow me to the pub. Liana was his little sister, after all. But as I said to her just moments before, I had it under control, and it was best to keep as many people out of this as possible. Why worry him and the rest of the Ravennas when everything was going to be okay?

  I mean, it had to be okay, right?

  There had to have been a reason for Gaspard to finally have come out of hiding.

  Pulling my arm from Luca’s grasp, I smiled as genuinely as possible and took a step back. “Work-related. We’ll catch up soon, okay?”

  “Catch up soon like that call I’m still waiting for?”

  “Luca, please,” I sighed. “Not now. I really have to go.”

  “Then let me come with you.”

  My head flew back. “What? No.”

  “Why not?” He crossed his arms.

  “Because I work alone, that’s why.”

  “C’mon, Eden. I’ll stay out of your way, let you do your thing. Just let me come with you. We can go have dinner after or relax at my—”

  Here we go.

  I put up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “What part of no didn’t you understand the first time, Luca? I don’t want you to go, I don’t want to go have dinner, and certainly I’m not going back to your place. Enough is enough already. You seem to be envisioning some sort of future that isn’t even an option in my book, and quite frankly, you need to let it go. It’s not happening.”

  “Seriously?” he asked, almost snarling his question in disgust.

  “Seriously. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”

  “Why, Eden?” His voice stopped me halfway down the hallway. “Why won’t you give me a chance?”

  Sighing profoundly, I peered over my shoulder. “Because I made myself clear from the get-go. No strings attached, ever. You may want to cross that line, but I don’t, and really, you have no one to blame but yourself. The moment you started feeling even a spec of something more, you should’ve backed off.”

  “I should have, yes, but I figured if I was feeling it, then you might too.”

  “Never assume, Luca. It makes an ass out of both parties involved. And for future reference, sex doesn’t always open the gateway to a relationship. Some people truly enjoy it for what it is, not what it has the capacity to flourish.”

  And with that, I hightailed it down the stairs, leaving him standing in the middle of the hallway to mull over the little morsel of information I’d finally thrown his way. I should’ve felt badly at the bluntness of my words, but in all honesty, I didn’t. He needed to hear it, and he needed to hear it clearly because my previous attempts were obviously not loud or clear enough. I'd half-expected him to come after me, but as I shuffled out the front door and neared the GranTurismo, it was apparent he had no intention of doing so.

 
Thank the Lord.

  True to my word, I pulled up to Yankee’s less than forty minutes later and parked in one of the only spaces available. It was packed to the brim, not unusual for the weekend, but rather than pulsing with life, it reeked of danger. Whether Gaspard was still here or not, I didn't know yet, but something just felt… off. It was similar to that gnawing sense of unease that stirred about when my brothers and I infiltrated his estate, only not as intense. Nonetheless, I could still feel it.

  Killing the engine, I flung back into my seat and took a much-needed deep breath. The high was back, rippling through me in a winged frenzy that ensnared my focus, none of it remotely enjoyable. I felt indestructible and anxious all in one shot. Not surprising in the slightest, seeing as it was a recurring theme nowadays. No amount of uncertainty could do away with years of training, though, and with my senses on high alert, I slipped out into the night and pushed my way into the bustling pub, my gaze breezing over anything and anyone in my blinded path to Liana.

  Dark wood paneling with neon signs and an assortment of sports paraphernalia made up the walls around me. Massive TVs hung in different areas of the restaurant, each screen playing a different channel that either consisted of baseball, football, the news, or a highly popular series of sorts. Swarms of people—from college kids to married couples—filled the booths along the perimeter, the floater tables and high-top bar stools, and the fully stocked bar too. All of them no wiser to what was going on around them, their boisterous conversations and the sound of Kiiara’s “Gold” drowning out the truth.

  “Eden!” I heard somewhere amongst the crowd.

  Swiveling around, my head snapped around until I caught wind of my childhood friend pushing toward me.

  She bound up to me and wrapped me a tight hug. “Hey, Petal.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked, squeezing her in my grasp.

  “Do I look injured?” She chuckled and pulled away for me to take her in. “I'm good, trust me.”

  Thankfully she really was, but it didn't take away from the urgency of why I was here.

  “Where is he?”

  Liana shrugged. “He disappeared while I went outside to talk to you. I asked security to scope things out but he came up empty-handed.”

  “Fuck. He could be anywhere,” I said, taking in every face around us.

  “That might be a good thing. C’mon, let's go to the back so you can open that envelope.”

  Snatching my hand in hers, Liana led me through the throngs of pub-goers to a narrow hallway just off the bathrooms in the back. At the very end of the well-lit corridor was a pale blue employee room housing a few lockers, a table, a small refrigerator, and a microwave. I shut the door quietly behind us as Liana sunk down to her feet and twirled her lock around.

  “I didn't want anyone to see it while I was serving tables, so I stuffed it back here,” she said, holding out a large yellow envelope to me.

  Taking it from her grasp, I noted it wasn't as light as I expected and went to sit at the empty table nearby, bunching the prongs upward to release the seal.

  “I have to get back out there”—her voice was by the door now—“but if someone comes back here, just tell them you're with me.”

  Nodding, I offered her a small smile and tilted the envelope downward, a folded piece of paper and an ancient Nokia clattering onto the table.

  What in the actual fuck?

  I didn't know which one to grab first. The phone had my attention but the note was burning a hole through my head. Upon unfolding it, my eyes drifted over the short message scripted in thick black ink.

  I have a proposition for you.

  If you find yourself interested,

  dial 1.

  I was speechless, my grip tightening around the creased paper as a cluster of questions filled my every thought. What did he want? What could he possibly have to offer me? Was he willing to right what he'd done wrongly to my family? There was no other way to answer them without contacting Gaspard first, and as much as the thought of negotiating with him did not sit well with me, I knew there was no way I could pass this up. It might be my one and only opportunity to rid my father of the Frenchman once and for all.

  With my mind made up, I reached for the phone and dialed 1, as instructed. It rang only twice before a thick French accent slithered into my ear.

  “What the fuck do you wa—” I started through gritted teeth, but he was quick to chide me, abruptly halting my irate question.

  “Before you speak, Miss Scarsi, I would think very clearly before doing so, or the distasteful establishment you're standing in will go BOOM with the click of a button,” he said, placing emphasis on the boom and its attached explosive sound effect.

  I swallowed down my words and a little bit of my pride too. “I'm listening.”

  “As of late, I seem to be having the same pesky problem your father often has.” He sounded amused.

  “And that would be?”

  “The return of my money.”

  Silence.

  “You see, petit, the people who borrow money from me know better than to miss their deadlines. Do you know why?”

  “No,” I said flatly.

  “Because, unlike your father, I have no mercy. I do not offer ridiculous extensions, and it is clear that if they do not return what has been given to them, jei viendrai pour eux.”

  “What does that mean? I'm not exactly fluent in French.”

  He chuckled darkly. “I will come for them.”

  “Okay… I'm not following. What does that have to do with me?”

  “I'm tired, Miss Scarsi, and old. I've known your father for many years and your talents have not gone unnoticed. I could use your assistance to get the job done.”

  I scrunched up my face in both confusion and disgust, shooting up to my feet. “What makes you think I’d ever agree to help you?”

  “Because if you do, I'll return your father every penny with an added sum for you, bien sûr,” he purred.

  That had my attention. I'd been right. Apparently, Gaspard had come to his senses and realized my father would never stand down. He'd be forever wanted if he didn't correct his mistakes, always on the run to keep himself alive.

  “So, let me get this straight,” I said, pacing the room. “You want me to work for you and in return, you'll pay my father back everything?”

  “Oui. It's what I said, non?”

  “What's the catch?” I blurted out.

  “There is no catch. You help me, I help you.”

  “I don't believe you. How long is this list?”

  “That is not information I can share at the moment. I can promise you it is not very long though.”

  “And there's the catch.” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “If I agree, how will this work?”

  “It's very simple, really. You will use this phone, and only this phone, to keep in contact. I can track everything you do on here, so no…how is it you Americans say? Funny business?”

  I hummed and rolled my eyes, leaning up against the wall.

  “Once you remove a name, I shall give you another,” he added.

  “And how will I know when I'm done?”

  “You will just know, petit.”

  Was he for real? Did he really expect me to say yes at the drop of a hat, because he said so? He was a liar, a con artist, a fucking gunrunner, and he just wanted me to say yes? Was he out of his mind? I stood there for God knows how long, both of us unspeaking as I contemplated what to do.

  Could I really do LeRoux’s dirty work in my current state?

  “So I'm just supposed to trust you, and navigate my way blindly through an indeterminable wild goose chase?” I asked dubiously after a beat.

  “Indeed, and I will not wait around for an answer either, so make it quick, Miss Scarsi. My finger is twitching to push the little red button. In fact, it feels so warm and smooth, I am not sure how much longer I can restrain myself.”

  “Fine!” I blurted out, my eyes widening i
n alarm.

  “Excellent,” he chuckled in satisfaction. “I will call you soon with the first detail. When? I do not know, but you’d be wise to head south for about two hours. Will probably make your job easier.”

  I was seconds away from protesting when the line went silent, my mouth popped open with unspoken words and all. Pulling the phone from my ear, I glanced at the screen and sure enough, he’d disconnected our call, robbing the power right from beneath my feet, though I suppose with him on the run, he’d had the power all along.

  Fuck.

  What the hell had I just gotten myself into? Two hours south? That meant he was going to have me traveling around to the ends of the earth. Who knows how long I’d be away from home. How the hell was I going to explain this to Daddy and expect him to agree to it? He’d never agree to let me go alone and really, after what happened, it was a given he wouldn’t let me go at all, even with backup. Anything connected to Gaspard was a firm no.

  Shoving the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I collected the note and envelope off the table and hurdled out of the break room right as someone was making their way in.

  “What the—?” I heard behind me, but they made no move to stop me.

  Careening around the corner into the sea of rowdy people once more, I came to the conclusion I was going to have to just go. No explanations, no goodbyes. I knew my father was not going to be pleased, neither were my brothers, but this was how it had to be. Once I’d made it the two hours away, I’d call them and assure them I was okay. I was also going to have to call Xander, too, and explain in as little detail that…