by Eve Langlais
Which meant, it had to get worse.
Chapter Six
“What the fuck are you doing?” The expletive had her looking up and seeing the chunky fellow from inside. “Where is the boss?”
“He’s in the car.”
Chunk eyed her, and then his gaze moved past to the body lying in the alley. His eyes widened. “What happened?”
“I can explain,” she said softly, stepping towards him, wishing she’d not tossed the gun into the trunk. But she’d wanted it cleaned with the bodies.
Chunk retreated. “Stay away.”
“Do you really think I could hurt anyone?” She batted her lashes and did her best to look innocent.
Failed miserably given he made a sign against evil, then turned and ran.
Seriously? She couldn’t let him escape. He’d heard too much. Wasting precious seconds retrieving the gun, Portia shoved it into her purse before she chased him.
The guy zig-zagged and ran pretty quick for someone his size, which with his head start, proved enough to keep him out of reach. He was obviously no stranger to escape attempts.
Chunk darted into a restaurant, the bold sign in the windows offering fresh eggrolls that smelled divine and tickled her taste buds as she followed him inside. She tucked her hand into her purse, fingers questing for the gun.
The bell over the door jangled, and she halted as the eyes of more than a few patrons chose to peruse Portia. None of them moved from their seat, so she remained still and cast her gaze around. The big fellow had disappeared, probably into the back. Through the kitchen because he knew this neighborhood, and she didn’t.
Rather than waste her time following, she should be readying herself to leave.
Permanently.
Ugh. She did not want to explain a sudden move to the girls.
Emerging from the restaurant, she quickly stomped back to the dojo, eyeing her car parked across the street and debating if she should just jump in and go. She didn’t have time to waste. Even now, Chunk might be finding a way to get ahold of Ronin.
But she couldn’t just leave Ted in the alley. Not with a cleanup crew coming. They might not realize that she didn’t want him dead.
How would she carry him? She’d need help for sure. She’d figure it out once she—
“Where the hell is he?” She turned into the alley to find Ted’s body gone. She might have thought herself in the wrong place, yet the car remained. The smelly dumpster, too. But no handsome dude dressed in black pajamas, passed out like a sleeping prince.
Had he gotten up and walked away? Doubtful. She’d given him a proper dose of sedative for a man his size.
How then did his body disappear?
Wee-oo. Wee-oo.
The distant wail of sirens might be only a coincidence. Or someone called the cops because they’d heard the gunshots. She couldn’t take any chances. She had to leave. Now.
She practically ran for her car. The noise from the sirens would rouse residents, lured by the possible violence and crime. She might have been seen. Dammit. She sped away from the neighborhood, watching the rearview a little too much. Waiting for signs of flashing lights that would mean a change in plans.
No one chased her, and she made it home with no problem, pulling right into the garage and sealing it shut. The car was compromised, meaning they’d leave in the minivan. The moment she rolled out of her vehicle, she worked on the plates. They’d need a clean getaway, which meant adopting a new name and address. To muddle things further, a touch of a button inside the wheel well ionized the frame, and the color shifted, going from white to blue. It wasn’t an evenly applied blue, and there were hints of white still in places where it failed to switch, but at night, no one would notice the oddness of it. They just needed it long enough to get to their next ride.
Then she’d set it on fire.
Joanna held the door open to the kitchen. “You’re home sooner than expected. I didn’t think they’d get a crew out there so quick.”
“I had to leave before they arrived. Cops were coming.”
Joanna arched a brow. “And you ran away?”
“I don’t have time to be arrested.”
“For your information, they weren’t coming for you. Had you popped into their frequency, or called me, I could have told you. They were answering a domestic.”
The reminder had her glancing at her watch. She’d never even thought to use the monitoring police band feature. “Because, of course, you were monitoring the area. Because you don’t think I can handle myself.” Just like Chen, Joanna sometimes underestimated her. Despite knowing her irritation was with herself, she snapped at her friend.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Of course, I was watching and listening. I started the moment you walked out that door. You told me to guard those girls, and that means being aware of every possible danger, including their mother going to a known bad neighborhood. What if they’d carjacked you? Or decided you were an easy mark for human trafficking?”
“I went armed.”
“A good thing, but I’ll remind you that this wouldn’t have been an issue if you’d stayed home in the first place.”
“You were right. Okay?” Portia hugged her. “We need to make preparations to leave. If the cleanup crew doesn’t get there soon, then it might not be long before someone discovers Chen and his buddy in that car.”
“Even if they do find the bodies, no one will immediately make a connection between his death and you.”
“I don’t want to take any chances.”
A beep had Joanna holding up her phone. “No need to panic. The car and the bodies have been removed.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” One worry resolved.
“And Tanya is monitoring online for any social media videos or images being posted.” The KM hacker would wipe anything she came across.
“Did the crew see Ted?”
“Where did you leave him?”
“He was on the ground until I chased Chunk. Then he was gone.” Maybe he’d recovered from the sedative and staggered back to the dojo.
“And she tells me this now?” Joanna growled as she typed into her phone.
Beep. “No sign of your boyfriend.”
Portia winced. The lie seemed stupid now.
Beep. “Hmm.” Joanna glanced at the screen then moved for the coffee pot. Indicating that she expected a long night ahead.
“What’s hmm supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Joanna!” Portia growled her name.
“Don’t get pissy. The cleanup crew might have set fire to the martial arts place.”
“What? That’s insane. Why would they burn it down?”
“Mother’s orders.”
“Mother knows?”
Joanna rolled her eyes. “She knows everything.”
“How? I haven’t called her.” Portia’s gaze narrowed. “You told her I went to see Ted. You knew about him.”
“Don’t get that look with me. You know what my job is.”
“Your job isn’t to make my life more difficult.”
“No, but it is to make sure you and the girls are safe. The moment your cover was compromised, Marie called me. She wanted me ready to move with the twins if needed.”
Just one of the many backup plans in case Portia was ever found. “I’m so tired of living on the edge of a sword.”
“One day, we’ll find a way to get to the bastard.”
Doubtful. It seemed as if the evilest in the world were often the most untouchable. Impossible to get near without in-depth vetting. Poisoning impossible unless willing to take the chance that others would die, too because the most paranoid didn’t always eat from the plate set in front of them.
The truly evil ones had deals with the devil because they had the best damned luck when it came to avoiding ambush.
Would Ted have the kind of luck that didn’t have him roasting to a crisp? This was all her fault. Ted was probably dead because he’d recog
nized her. Portia rubbed the throbbing spot between her eyes. When would this end?
Beep. Joanna glanced at her phone. “Marie wants you to call her.”
“I will. I just need to check on the girls first.” Needed to reassure herself that they were safe for the moment.
“They’re fine.”
“I’m not,” was Portia’s mutter as she stalked from the kitchen. Tonight, she’d been as bad as those she killed. She’d done it without remorse. She should feel guilt, and yet as she gazed upon the sweet faces of her daughters, she knew one thing for sure. I’d do it again.
She’d kill as many times as it took to keep her sweet angels safe. Had been doing things she never thought herself capable of since having them. She placed a soft kiss on each forehead. Let them sleep a few minutes longer. Who knew how long before they’d get their next rest.
In her bedroom, she pulled out a carry-on-sized suitcase, already partially packed. Phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear, she added toiletries to it as she rang Marie.
“I told you we should have gotten rid of him,” Marie said in lieu of hello.
“Who, Chen? Yeah, you should have.”
“Don’t you dare start. I’m talking about your old school chum. I told you he would be trouble.”
“It wasn’t Ted’s fault that he was getting shaken down by Chen. I still can’t believe the guy survived.”
“You and me both. Next time, I’ll make sure I take his head clean off.”
“There won’t be a next time.” She quickly told Marie what had happened since Joanna had only managed to feed her part of the story.
At the end of it, Marie cursed in French. “Maudit! This is not good. The man that went missing will probably contact Ronin.” Anyone looking for a payout would because Portia would wager that he’d pay dearly for news of her whereabouts.
“I know. I’m packing a few things and then grabbing the girls and Joanna.”
“To go where? I don’t have a new identity set up for you yet.” Creating a persona that could withstand scrutiny took time.
“I can’t stay here.” Not with the fear that Ronin could descend at any second. Never mind that she already knew he was still in China. Her phone was programmed to advise her anytime he moved. He was the bogeyman who could appear at will, especially in her nightmares. “I have an emergency set of papers I can use for now.”
“What about visiting one of your sisters?” Marie suggested.
Meaning another Killer Mom. “No. I won’t put them in danger.”
“Then where? A motel on the side of the road?” Marie snapped, and it wasn’t out of anger at Portia. Knowing her as Portia did, she knew it rose from a feeling of helplessness. Marie didn’t like letting her girls down, and she’d take this sudden move as a failure on her part.
“I was thinking of maybe visiting a beach.” Portia hadn’t actually thought further ahead than jumping into the van and driving until she could drive no more.
“Beach? That’s a great idea,” Marie declared. “You need to go on a cruise.”
“Are you insane? This is not the time for a vacation.”
“But what better way to hide than on a boat full of strangers. Not to mention, the girls won’t think to question.”
A sudden vacation in the middle of school? They would question and argue. Yet it was just the type of thing that might work. Besides, the girls had just brought it up the other day. Still…
“We can’t sail around forever.”
“A week should do it. Give me enough time to close down your life where you are and have a new one ready to go.”
“I’ll need to bring Joanna.” Two eyes watching were better than one.
“Of course. Give me an hour or so, and I’ll get a flight and itinerary set up.”
“Sounds good. I’ll wake the girls and get to the airport.” She had a second set of passports for them all. The only problem was, she couldn’t let the girls question their change in name. She’d handle it on the ride to the terminal.
Marie sighed. “I’m sorry, Portia. I know you were hoping you wouldn’t have to leave.”
“It’s not your fault.” It was hers for not uprooting the moment she ran into Ted.
Hanging up with Marie, she finished packing and looked around at her room for the last time. An impersonal space without even a picture of her girls. She had none around the house. Fear she might have to suddenly leave, making her paranoid about leaving images behind.
How would she explain to the girls that they had to leave and wouldn’t be coming back? Perhaps the latter could be done while at sea where they had distraction.
The twins shared a room, painted a light pink, trimmed in white, but that was where the soft girliness ended. They’d hung a chart of the periodic table and installed a glow-in-the-dark package of stars on the ceiling, replicating the constellations. The shelves of books didn’t hold fanciful tales of dragons or adventure but science and geography.
A shakeup in their routine might not be a bad idea. She’d been wondering if they were missing out on having fun of late. A cruise might be just the thing they needed.
She leaned down and shook Mae first. “Wake up.”
Mae grumbled.
She shook her again. “Wake up, Mae. We have to go somewhere.” When her daughter stirred, she then subjected Lin to the same nudging.
“Let’s go, girls. We have to get moving.”
“Why?” Mae said on a jaw-cracking yawn. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s actually just one a.m.” Odd how it felt later. “You need to get up and pack.”
“I wanna sleep.” Lin flopped face-first onto her bed.
“You can sleep on the plane.”
“We’re flying?” Mae’s eyes popped wide. “Where? Why?”
“It’s a surprise.”
The girls stared at Portia, but it was Lin who stated, “We don’t like surprises.”
Portia knew that. The girls preferred routine. But, sometimes, life wasn’t smooth and predictable. They needed to know how to handle it when that happened. “Too bad. So sad. It’s a surprise. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.” She gave them a reasonable but short amount of time, meaning they had boundaries they could now use to structure their next move.
“That’s too soon,” Lin wailed, slinging her legs out of the bed.
Whereas Mae cocked her head. “For our clothing, what kind of climate are we aiming for?”
The intelligence in her girls sometimes astonished, but it always made her proud because it showed that they knew how to think. “Wear a jacket, but pack for warm weather and water.”
“What about school?” Lin demanded, turning from her dresser.
“Screw school. We’re going on an impromptu holiday.” Portia smiled as she left their room, hoping they bought her fake gaiety. She wanted to be excited, but anxiety filled her. This wasn’t a holiday.
What if Ronin knew? She couldn’t believe how intensely the thought bothered her.
Her phone rang. Mother.
She answered. “Do you have our flight booked?”
“I do, plus…I’ve found you a husband.”
“Excuse me?”
“An extra bodyguard for the trip. He’ll act as your husband to confuse things a bit further.”
“I don’t need a stranger dogging our steps,” she grumbled. “And how will I explain it to the girls? No.”
“He’s got a cover story. Don’t worry.”
“Forget it. I don’t need a man mucking things up.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Portia froze on the bottom step.
Marie chortled. “Oh, good. He’s there.”
“Who?”
“Your new husband, of course.”
Joanna, a gun down by her side, was the one to answer the door.
And who should be the one standing on the step?
“Ted!”
Chapter Seven
The shock on Macey’s face had Ted
grimacing. He was still having a hard time reconciling the nerdy girl he once knew with the one that took him down and calmly spoke on her phone of hiring a cleanup crew and taking care of Chen.
A fucking cleanup crew to handle the men she’d killed.
Who the hell was she? What had she become?
These thoughts ran through his head as he succumbed to the drugs she’d injected him with back in that alley. Even now, he still felt the lethargy trying to control his mind and limbs.
At the time it’d happened, he’d never bothered to fight back. It would have wasted time, precious seconds where drugs spiraled throughout his system.
Rather than risk yet another needle, Ted chose to feign sleep, allowing his body to go limp. As he fell, he slipped his hand inside his gi and into the pocket where he kept a Narcan dose. He’d been keeping one close by for years now. He’d seen one too many addicts twitching on the streets and in the alleys of this neighborhood to ever go without. A long time ago, he used to be that guy drooling mindlessly after a fix. It took a friend dying during a binge in his old addict days after he’d left the military to realize that he might as well put a gun to his head because all he was doing was killing himself. Slowly. Had he survived the war in the Middle East to kill himself when safe at home?
He chose to get clean, and once he managed to get past those first few hard years, started helping others. He’d had to use the Naloxone five times since he started carrying it. Five lives saved. Not enough to rid him of his nightmares, but it helped.
And now his habit would hopefully save his life.
He made sure to land on his belly, surprised when she actually grabbed his head and made sure he didn’t smash down face-first. As Macey spoke to someone, he managed to subtly inject himself, the Narcan countering the opioid making him lethargic.
How had he ever thought this sluggishness felt good. He concentrated on the pain in his body, his hand wedged between cracked asphalt and his heavy frame. His cheek against the same dirty ground.
Listened as Portia walked away and lied to someone on the phone. I am most certainly not her boyfriend.
Any thought he’d had of asking her out fled. She might be cute, but he drew the line at women who injected men. Not once, but twice! Had she given him a double dose of sleeping shit?