“Forty more feet and you’ll have one.”
“Forty more feet? I could be dead in ten. How’d you do that anyway?”
“Do what?”
“How’d you get me in with a gun? Nick doesn’t know me.”
“But he knows me.” She looks up at the balcony. “This is his city. He’s aware of Dorazio and some of what’s happening within the districts. I’m keeping him up to date on a need-to-know basis.”
“If that’s the case, then he really shouldn’t have let me in with a gun.”
She stops and places her hands on my chest, leaning in close like we’re about to kiss. “I said Nick could ruin my career if he wanted to, but that goes both ways. I could destroy him. Taking me to his home in the burbs and paying me for sex?” She backs away, her eyes sparkling under strings of party lights. “Not that I’d ever stoop to that childish level of revenge and go public with any of it … but he doesn’t know that.”
“I need a frickin’ drink,” I repeat.
I make a swift turn in the direction of the bar, coming face to face with an attractive older woman, tall and fit, with freckles and chestnut brown hair. There’s no question this is Autumn’s mom.
“I hope your dad didn’t hear your friend swear.” Her brash voice startles me, the exact opposite of Autumn’s.
“Frickin’ isn’t a swear word, Mom.”
They palm one another’s shoulders, tipping forward for a cheek-to-cheek kiss. Their bodies are far enough apart for a third person to stand between them. It’s anything but loving.
“This is Dylan.”
“Pleasure,” I say, shaking her mom’s clammy hand.
“Watch your language around my husband. I don’t want any problems for my daughter.” She turns to Autumn. “Are you smoking again? You smell like an ashtray.” She digs inside her purse and pulls out a small glass bottle, shooting a mist of perfume onto Autumn’s neck. “Don’t let your dad see you with a cigarette. He’ll insist we have the loft fumigated.”
A middle-aged man with pointed brows and penetrating eyes approaches us. “You brought a man to the party?” He offers his hand, and I give a firm shake, knowing straightaway this is her dad.
“Farren, please,” her mom says to him. “I haven’t seen her in a month. Let’s not argue about her bringing a date.”
“I didn’t catch your name,” he says, not letting go of my hand.
“Dylan Marzley.”
“Dylan? Farren Black.” He pulls away and stares at Autumn’s dress. “It’s too short and the neck’s too low.”
“I know. That’s why I like it.” She smiles. “The lace covers the low neckline.” She slides her finger across it. “And did you notice the scarf? I think it’s tasteful for the evening.”
“Me too,” I say. “She looks beautiful.”
“Who asked you?” He glares at me for a second before turning back to her. “The scarf is the only reason I haven’t told you to put your coat back on.”
“Farren,” his wife pleads.
“What happened to your face?” he asks me.
I touch the bridge of my nose as if I wasn’t aware. It’s been almost a week since the parking lot incident, the aftermath still noticeable. Autumn squeezes my hand, signaling not to answer, which is fine since I can’t think of a good lie to make up on the spot.
Farren stares. I smile. He stares more intently. I smile wider.
“Are you deaf?”
“Nope,” I answer.
“Nope? Nope, what?”
“Nope … sir?”
That satisfies him.
He puts his hands in his pockets and surveys the room, giving a chin lift to a group of guys sitting at one of the tables off to the side. He takes a step in their direction, patting Autumn’s arm as he passes by her. “It’s good that you’re here.” Another distant, unloving form of contact, similar to her mother’s awkward half-hug. They’re just like Lona Anderson.
“Dylan, the drinks are through that door.” Autumn points toward the back of the room. “I’ll meet you there after I finish gossiping about you with my mom.”
I laugh openly at her honesty. They can talk about me all they want. I’m inept around parents anyway.
I glance back at her on my way to the bar area, her mom giving me the once-over, whispering something to Autumn. I can’t remember a situation that has made me feel more out of place than this one. I’m here because I want to impress a girl, be the highlight of her night, the guy she thinks about even when she sees the man who stole her virginity. But that’s what’s wrong with me. I realize it now. I know I’m blind. I’m on the shady side of the tree, stalking her while being hunted by others, expecting her to change my life instead of changing it on my own. Damn her for turning my heart soft, and damn me for loving it.
A waiter slides a pocket door open. I step out of the ballroom and into a dimly lit room where men with whiskey breath linger close, dropping cigar ashes on my only pair of black dress shoes. The space is loud and overcrowded with men discussing politics while the women are out on the dance floor sipping red wine and commenting on one another’s hair. There’s a distinct gender split happening here, very fifties-ish. No matter the decade, I’ve stumbled into a place I don’t belong. These men aren’t the most welcoming, not like my dad and I are with the customers at our bar. We don’t circle our patrons like sharks. That’s no exaggeration either; two are right up in my face.
I hold my ground, refusing to leave before I get a drink. “What’s up, fellas?” I ask them.
“Mayor Faulkner wants to talk to you. Upstairs,” one of them says, pointing to a back staircase.
I rock on the balls of my feet. “What for?”
“Just a friendly conversation.” The other one opens his coat and shows his gun.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” they echo.
They take me up a corkscrew flight of footworn wooden stairs that opens to a private balcony area overlooking the ballroom. Rivulets of sweat run down my sides. I can barely see my hands in front of my face, let alone recognize anyone in the room.
I’ll be able to spot Nick once my eyes adjust to the darkness. I’ve seen photos of him. I know his hair is black, like mine, only longer and slicked back. And he has a short salt-and-pepper beard. Tiny eyes, too—like a rodent.
Men next to the wooden balcony railing catch sight of me, snuff out their smokes, and disperse. One by one, they vanish down the stairs like animals keen on a storm moving in. One by one, until there’s only one—a guy sitting in a rustic leather chair with his hands raised in the steeple position, the tips of his fingers touching his lips. He’s much beefier than his online photos, with a top-heavy body and a thick neck.
“Take a seat.” He motions to the chair across from him.
“I’ll stand.”
“You’ll sit,” he stresses, his voice powerful. He looks over my shoulder at a man standing at the top of the staircase. “Gage, go down to my office and get the fax that came in from District D. Bring it up here.” He leans forward, signaling again to the chair. “Are you afraid of me?”
I kick the chair closer to him, digging my nails into the armrests as I sit down. “I’m not afraid.”
He leans back with a victorious smile, giving me the once-over. “I saw you walk in with Autumn. You must be Dylan, this kid right here.” He holds up his cell, showing the photo Autumn took of me the first night we met. “You clean up well.”
“How’d you get that?”
“I asked. Autumn has a file on every guy she meets … and when I ask for something, I eventually get it.”
“Bet that goes both ways.” I make a finger-gun gesture that I was able to walk in here with my Glock because of her.
“Touché.” He pushes a whiskey bottle and a glass across the table as an offering. “I asked for your name when she said she met a guy who works for Dorazio. But I had to put the pressure on to wring it out of her. She wa
sn’t about to give you up without a fight.” He cocks his head. “You must be special.”
“I don’t work for Dorazio.” I pour myself a drink.
“Kid, let’s not play those games.” He raises a hand, blocking my second denial. “I know Autumn withholds information she collects because she gets a kick out of having my balls in a vice. It keeps me speculating about what she’s up to. But she’s vulnerable. So, I got your photo and your name, as I asked. Then I checked you out. Yes, you do work for Dorazio.”
“I have no record,” I reply, picking at the armrest, a sour taste in my mouth.
“That’s true.” He points between my eyes. “You have no criminal record. You’re nearly nonexistent. And if Autumn has the goods on you for something other than being a snitch, she’s keeping it a secret for now.”
I look away. “I’m just an average guy. I have no secrets.”
“Average guys are easy to find online, you’re not. No Facebook or Twitter accounts?”
“I deactivated them last year.”
“Why?”
I shift. “Because there’s stuff on there I don’t wanna see anymore.”
He surveys me from under his hooded eyelids. “Too painful?” he asks.
I don’t answer.
“Look, I’ve spoken to Dorazio about you. The guy is shaking in his boots, says he barely knows you, which is strange since he’s always drinking at your bar.”
“Why are you asking Ed about me?”
“To find your kryptonite so we can make a deal.”
“What kind of a deal?” I say sharply.
“We’ll get there. Let’s talk about Autumn first.” He takes a long pull of his drink. After licking the whiskey off his top lip, he says, “You know about our relationship?”
“No.”
“Oh, really?” His voice becomes dark and dramatic. “Even if it’s incriminating, tell me what she said.”
“I don’t know anything,” I repeat.
He leans back with a grin, holding the glass in front of his mouth. “So you work for Dorazio?”
“No.”
“Did you kill a man named Trevor?”
“No.”
“Have you murdered any drug dealers?”
“No.”
“Are you a pathological liar?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and hold a straight expression. “No.”
Nick peers over the balcony at Autumn, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “All grown-up, huh? At twenty-two, you think you have your head on straight. Invincible, right?”
“What the hell do you want?” I guzzle down the whiskey.
“Take it you haven’t learned to savor it.”
I give the last drop of honey-colored liquid a swirl and toss it back.
“No comment, kid? That’s smart. Keep me guessing.”
“I drink a lot. I don’t have to savor every glass.”
“I was talking about women, not whiskey.” His mouth twists.
I rub my thighs, looking back to see if the stairs are clear for an escape.
“Lighten up. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I have to go. I wanna spend the night with my date.”
He leans in and puts his hand on my shoulder when I start to rise. “We have business to discuss.” The leather chair crinkles under his weight when he leans back. “Who are you, Dylan? Have you worked for anyone besides Dorazio?”
“I’m just a nobody.”
“If that’s true, this will be easy.”
“What will?”
Nick checks and double-checks the stairs to make sure we’re alone before tackling me with his next words. “Ed Dorazio is too much of a risk. He needs to be taken out, and you’re the one who’s going to kill him for me.”
I let out a sardonic laugh. “No. No way. I’m not killing Ed.”
“Interesting response for someone in your position. Dorazio put your head in the lake the other night. He knocks you around all the time. You telling me you don’t have a twitchy finger to take him down? Come off it.” He drums his fingers on the armrest. “He’s on his hind legs, sniffing around, worried you’re screwing Farren Black’s daughter. And now he’s beside himself that I’m moving in with questions. Between Autumn and me, he’s trapped. So let’s cut a deal. You take him down, and I won’t have you arrested for murdering my son.”
My heart stops beating. I shrink back, dropping my fisted hands on my thighs. “Who’s your son?”
He sips his whiskey, calmly crossing his legs, eyes boring into me. “So you admit you’ve killed a man?”
“No.”
“Kid, listen carefully. I don’t like repeating myself.” He sets his glass on the table and leans forward, clasping his hands between his open legs. “Trevor struck—”
“Trevor?”
“Yes, my rotten son. He smacked my wife around and stole her car.”
“Fuck.” I throw my head back. It had to be the guy in the alley. It just had to be him.
“My slapdash drug dealer son.” He strokes his beard from cheek to chin. “I knew the day would come when he’d be arrested on drug charges or killed. And the press finding out about him dealing on the streets means my position would come under fire. Autumn was hired to take him out quietly. But she kept making excuses, saying it was never the right time, too many people around. Then she found the right person to help her out.” He points at me.
Ed’s warning was spot-on this time. “Putting a hit on your son was that easy for you?”
“We wanted the car back first.”
I laugh in disgust.
“It’s a nice BMW.”
“I heard she got your car back from him.”
“Absolutely, she did. I wouldn’t expect any less from her. But by tailing him through the city, she found the corruption in District D. Now people are closing in on Dorazio.” He stares coldly at me. “You know that suffocating feeling, don’t you? When you’re in over your head?”
I look away, catching sight of Autumn down on the ballroom floor. She’s talking to the two men who took me off the lake and drove me to her house.
Nick leans back and grins. “DEA,” he says.
“Who, them?”
He nods. “Good men. They’re in the building across from mine, in the one next to Autumn’s loft. Interesting that she knows them, I’d say Dorazio is in big trouble now.”
Autumn probes the room, looking at her watch. She leaves the conversation to find me.
“Kid, I’m not upset you killed my son. That’s not why you’re here. It was bound to happen.”
“I didn’t kill him.” My voice is too high, sounding like it’s coming from somewhere outside my body.
“Don’t.” His hand is up again. “I hate that back and forth shit. Autumn said she had your help. Lie again, and I’ll have Gage throw you over the balcony.”
Gage walks in and hands Nick a slip of paper, returning to his post next to the stairs. Nick opens it, the creases in his forehead deepening as he reads. “Fascinating.” He puts the paper face down on the armrest. “Dylan, there’re two things I need from you.”
“Two?” A shiver runs deep within my body. “I’m not killing two guys for you. I’m not even killing one.”
“You helped kill my son without any reservation, so I know you’re the right kid for the job. Just a nobody, as you said.” His knee knocks the table between us, swaying the liquor in the whiskey bottle. “You have until midnight to bring me Trevor’s body. It’s despicable that you left him out in that abandoned house. I’ll put him in a place where he can rest without being found. That’s my first request. Dorazio is the second.”
“I’ll bring you Trevor’s body tonight. But I’m not killing Eddie Dorazio.”
“Give me one good reason why.”
“Because he’s my dad’s best friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids.”
“I said a good reason.
”
“Okay, he’s a cop.”
“A good reason.”
I stare at the floor, tilting my fancy dress shoes, looking at the hem on my pants. Sean warned me a hundred times that I was being set up, but I didn’t listen. “Does Autumn know what you’re asking me to do?”
“The less she knows about Dorazio, the better. As far as she’s concerned, you can say this is about Trevor. Mention Ed, and I’ll have you arrested for killing my son.” He pours himself a second glass of whiskey. “As a matter a fact, since Autumn was with you that night, take her back to that house so she can help you move him back here.”
My phone rings. I take it out of my coat pocket and see Autumn’s name on the screen. Nick motions to pick up.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I look down at her.
“Is anyone up there besides you two?”
“No. Just us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Trevor. Why didn’t you tell me who he was?”
She sighs. “Nick was clear that he didn’t want anyone on the streets to know Trevor was his son. Word would spread. Why is he asking you about him? I thought it was over.”
“He wants the body.”
There’s a long pause before she responds. “No. He told me to put him in that house.” A rage brews in her voice. “Put him on the phone, Dylan. He’s got something up his sleeve.”
I push the cell across the table, watching Autumn take a spin around the perimeter of the ballroom. She goes off on Nick, her face turning crimson red, the same shade as the Valentine decorations in the room.
“I don’t want him down in Lakeside. It was only temporary. Your friend needs to bring him to my private garage.” He uncrosses his legs. “Because Autumn, he’s my son, and you and this kid will do whatever the fuck I want. This isn’t a debate!” He tosses the cell into my lap, nostrils flaring.
I pick up the cell. “It’s no big deal. I can do this,” I tell her.
“It is a big deal. He wanted Trevor at that house. This is a trick, Dylan. I know it. I just know it. I’m coming up.”
“Don’t come up. Don’t do anything. He’ll have me arrested for killing him if I don’t do this. I’ll be down once I have the details.”
The Lost Night Page 21