by Tijan
I swallowed over that damn lump. “That guy in the bathroom was a nice fuck off?”
He grinned, taking out a knife. He ran his thumb over the edge. “I’m guessing Macca pissed someone off. They knew I’d kill him. Macca’s stupid—always makes noise when he goes in for a mission. I’m surprised he’s still alive all these years later.”
Damn. He knew that guy.
“Did you like him?”
His grin widened. “I don’t like anyone.”
Right. Cold, dead—that was Raize. I forgot for a second who I was working for.
“You never said why Cavers is here.”
He turned, heading back to the table. He laid the knife down and started to pile the papers together. “He’s here to snitch on us to Bronski.”
Hearing that name, I winced again. It was like an internal slap, followed by a roundhouse kick to the face.
“Why Bronski? Why not Carloni?”
Raize shot me a hard look, pausing before he put the papers in a bag and zipped it closed. “Because Carloni is pitting Bronski against me. Winner gets you.”
Cold dread spilled over me. “How do you know this?”
“Because I bugged Cavers’ room, his phone, and his vehicle. He’s Carloni’s man, but he’s reporting to Bronski, which tells me Carloni doesn’t want me here. I’m being used to make the relationship. Then he’ll send Bronski down here to replace me, and I’m guessing you’re the consolation prize. For Bronski.”
“Why would Carloni do that?”
“Because even though I was sent to Carloni, he’s not my boss. He must’ve found out somehow.”
Did I want to ask? I closed my eyes for a moment. “Who is your boss?”
He shook his head. “That’s not information you need.”
I winced, feeling slapped by that refusal after he’d told me so much. But, okay then. Raize had a boss. That boss sent him to Carloni. Carloni is using his connections, and then he’s planning to kill him and replace him with his own guy—who I refuse to think about—and Raize knew all of this.
Who was this boss? Maybe this might make more sense if I knew? Maybe? I didn’t know. This was kind of the office politics of this world. You got used and then executed.
But I was here. Once I’d started on this path, there was never any going back. I had one choice now, keep going. “You can’t kill Cavers then?”
“No, but I can send him on errands that will do nothing for us.”
“Why send Jake to follow him?”
“Because if I didn’t, Bronski and Cavers would both think I didn’t give a shit what he’s doing, and that would make them suspicious.”
Right. Because all of that made sense. “You told Jake not to be seen when he followed Cavers.”
Raize shook his head. “Jake sucks at tailing. There’s no way Cavers won’t see him, but Jake will at least try to stay hidden.”
“And what are you and I doing?”
He picked up the bag and nodded to my pizza. “The real work. Finish eating and meet me outside in five minutes.”
The real work. I wanted to make a joke about that, but I couldn’t. Dread was my constant friend. It was in me, always. And hearing those words, the real work, my dread turned into an altogether different sensation.
Anticipation. I didn’t like feeling that. I didn’t like it at all, but the other surprise of the day? Raize was a lot smarter than I’d thought.
I’d underestimated him, and that alarmed me. Who else had I underestimated?
“Girl.”
I had to go. I started for the door.
“Don’t forget your food.”
12
Carrie
Raize had two items to handle. One, we paid cash for another truck. Second, we went shopping for me.
Jake had bought everything Raize asked him to—food and supplies like toothpaste and toothbrushes, hand soap, towels, sleeping bags, blankets, a fan, the basics for staying at an empty house for a while.
But as far as purchasing clothes for me, he hadn’t done so great. He’d bought me a pair of socks.
So that’s how I found myself at the local Target with Raize carrying one of those hand-held baskets. I was in the dressing room, eyeing what he’d handed off to me.
I took the jeans, size four. I eyed the sweatshirts and tops he’d also handed me. “Why am I trying these on?” I asked him through the door. “These are just basic clothes that I can eyeball whether they’ll fit or not.”
“Can you fit them?”
“Yeah.” I tossed one of the pairs of jeans away, scooped up the rest, and went back out.
Raize stood as an older woman and a young girl came around the corner. “Oh!” The older woman looked like a young grandmother, her hair brushed back to reveal diamond earrings. The earrings got my attention first because they were classy. The granddaughter had the same blonde hair, same face and eyes. She wore a diamond necklace, and they both had their arms full of clothes. I was guessing the pink halter top wasn’t for the grandma.
Interest filled their eyes as they stared at Raize.
There was that reaction to him again. I didn’t understand it.
Raize’s gaze cooled, and I was hoping he wouldn’t call the grandma a skank cokewhore.
He stepped back, his hand went to the small of my back, and he murmured, “Excuse us.”
“Oh papacito!” The older woman made a show of fanning herself. The younger one giggled and sent me a look of approval.
He was a killer. Didn’t they see that? Didn’t they instinctively fear him? They should.
They were stupid. Ignorant.
Raize was dripping in so much blood, he had no soul anymore. I railed at them silently, screaming inside my head. Why couldn’t they feel that from him?
I stiffened, and Raize shot me a look, his hand pressing more firmly against my back. But neither of us said a word.
I walked briskly out of there, but not before pain sliced through me as a memory flashed before my eyes.
I was standing in a clothing store’s dressing room.
I was bored. I wanted to leave, but I had a book in my hand. I gripped that book tighter and tighter.
“What do you think, Friend?” She winked at me. Friend. It was our ‘code.’
The dressing room door swung open, and my sister came out, her hands on her hips, and struck a modeling pose—
No!
I would not let myself remember. If I did… I couldn’t.
Acid filled my mouth, but I swallowed it, shoving it down, down, so far down that I wondered how deep my tunnel went. Beyond my soul, beyond my body, all the way down into hell, that’s how far it went.
I moved left, following the aisle, but Raize shifted and pulled me into the underwear and bra section. We were alone.
He stepped in, crowding me with a hand on my hip, holding me in place. “What’s your problem?” His breath teased my neck and ear.
I couldn’t suppress a shiver, but he didn’t move back, and I didn’t step away. “Nothing.”
He pulled me against him, my side pressed to his chest. His fingers held my chin, and he angled his head to inspect my face. “What just happened in your head?”
“Nothing.”
He knew I was lying. My mouth was so tight, my teeth were grinding so hard that my entire face hurt.
“Stop.” He nodded to my mouth. “That’ll give you a migraine.”
“Like you care.” I snorted before I could stop myself.
Raize released me, stepping away. “No, but you will when you’re doubled over, puking in the bathroom. You’ll be vulnerable when Cavers might be around.”
God. I gritted my teeth again.
He drenched me in boiling water with that reminder. Never be vulnerable. I’d forgotten. At some point, with Jake asking me personal questions and Raize acting like he gave a damn—I’d started to soften. I could never do that either.
I was like that grandma and her granddaughter. I was being stupid, reckles
s, forgetting who Raize really was.
I pulled away, and knowing he’d steered me here because these were the last items we needed, I reached out and grabbed whatever was hanging in front of me. A pack of underwear, two sports bras. Some socks. We were good to go now. In the basket were two pairs of jeans, a few shirts, a sweatshirt, and now my underclothes.
Raize was still studying me, but when was he not?
He nodded and started for the front of the store.
I followed, not saying a word.
He took one detour, putting a pair of sneakers and sandals into the basket, and then we went to check out. Once everything was rung up, Raize pulled out cash to pay. He paused, reaching out to snag a pair of sunglasses. He added that to the pile.
Raize handed all of the bags to me, walking ahead of me once again.
I frowned, staring at the sunglasses. He’d added those for me, and I looked up as he pulled his own out and slipped them on his face.
“What do you think, sis?”
I rocked backward, the memory picking back up.
I couldn’t shove it down, and I was helpless to stop as it played out in my mind.
I looked up, seeing my sister in jeans that were skintight and a top that wasn’t a top. It was a bikini. She grinned at me, wiggling her hips as she did a slow circle. The tattoo was new on her side, so it was still bandaged.
I hated seeing that tattoo. It was his claim on her, like she was his property.
But before I could tell my sister she looked beautiful, because she always did—she was popular for a reason at school—he spoke up. “Those pants make you look fat. Pick something else.”
My sister’s smile fell flat and she swallowed. “Right.” She hung her head and went back into the dressing room. The door shut quietly, a slow click, and I hated that almost as much as I hated him. My sister never shut a door slowly, carefully. She rushed through life with a zest that was annoying at times. She was a force.
The way that door shut? There was no force there.
He was taking that from her.
I didn’t let myself look at him. If I did, I was going to smack him in the head with my book, and I wouldn’t stop.
A tear slid down my face as the parking lot swam into focus.
I should’ve looked at my sister’s boyfriend. I should’ve smacked him with the book, and I should’ve kept going until he was dead.
I hadn’t wanted to go to jail.
What a silly notion now.
13
Carrie
Raize parked, and when we got out, I was surprised to see him putting his gun in his seat’s zipper pocket. He held his hand out. “Give me your gun.”
“What?”
A few people walked past us on the sidewalk. They looked exhausted—maybe commuting for work. None of them were looking at us. In fact, I got the feeling this was a neighborhood where people minded their own business.
“I didn’t bring it.”
I ignored the flash in Raize’s eyes and started for the end of the truck.
“Stop.” He hooked his arm through my elbow, moving me closer as he reached inside and took his gun back out. He snagged the sweatshirt he’d just bought me and handed it over, unlinking our arms. “Put this on.”
I frowned. “It’s hot out.”
“Put it on.” He was back to being monotone.
I did, and then sucked in my breath when he reached for me, his hand snaking up through my shirt. “Hey!”
He ignored me, and I felt him putting his gun on the inside of my bra where there was some extra cushion in the sweatshirt. That’s why he’d bought this particular sweatshirt.
I tried to stop myself from glaring at him, but it was hard.
Everything he did was for a reason, an angle. He hadn’t bought me clothes to be kind. He’d bought them as an extra place to hide his weapons.
Raize stepped back, looking me over before giving a nod of approval. “They’ll run their hands down your back, but the hoodie should bunch up. They won’t do a thorough job with me there.”
I eyed him as he looked toward a building. “Why won’t they do a thorough job with you there?”
He lingered on the building for a moment. One story. Flat roof. The outside was of faded red brick. There were two narrow windows on both sides of the door. Both windows were blacked out. The door didn’t look any better than the brick. It was painted in velvet red, but the paint job was old and chipped.
He looked back to me.
Heat flashed in his gaze, and I almost stepped back. Tingling shot through me—what the hell was that? He smirked. I’d never seen Raize smirk before, but there it was. That’s how he looked hot to so many women. I saw it in that second, until I looked up and his eyes were still dead. That snuffed it out.
“They know me here. They’ll be nervous about insulting me.”
Well then. That explained nothing.
Everyone should be nervous about insulting Raize, as far as I was concerned.
He took off, and I stuffed my hands into the sweatshirt’s pockets. Oh. He might not want that bulge to be outlined, so I took them out. I followed at a more sedate pace, which he noted with a slight frown. Once he was ten feet from the door, it opened and two giant guys stepped out.
They nodded to Raize, who jerked his chin up. “I’d like to see Oscar.”
They both stared, not responding until one touched his ear. He had an earpiece there. He listened for a moment. “We gotta search you and your woman.”
Raize’s eyes were cool, but he didn’t argue. He raised his arms and spread his legs. The earpiece guy went to him, and the other guy came to me.
Raize growled when he touched my arm. “Be careful with her. She’s mine.”
She’s mine.
I gulped, a chill twining around that tingling sensation from before.
The guy gave Raize a dark look, but his hands barely skimmed me, and Raize was right. He didn’t plaster the sweatshirt against me so he missed the part smack in the middle of my back.
They stepped back when they were done, and the door opened once more. A guy in a yellow suit flashed a grin at Raize. He was bald, ebony skin, and dark eyes. Those eyes were lit up in amusement, but there was something more there. Knowing? Something else? I couldn’t tell.
A small grin tugged at his mouth before he ran a hand over his face, smoothing out the half-smile. “Well, well, well. I would never believe it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes. Can’t believe you came back, hombre.”
“Yeah. Well.” Raize shrugged. “You know this business.”
A more knowing look came over the guy, and his grin faded. “I do. You want to see him, huh?”
“I have to.”
“Got it.” The guy’s gaze lingered on me before he jerked his head. “Follow me then. He’s waiting.”
I was noting that neither said each other’s names. That was weird. Though, they weren’t acting like it.
Then we were going inside, and I didn’t know what I had thought it was earlier, but I wouldn’t have guessed a strip club.
It was a strip club.
Everything was so dark. I knew we were walking past people, but I couldn’t see them—could only hear them, sense them, almost feel the movement in the booths as we went past. The air in the room was heavy, with a lot of different smells. Cigar, sweat, booze, body lotion, self-tanner, perfume. I sneezed. I wasn’t used to perfume anymore, though Broo—nope. I needed to shut down those memories.
Why were they coming to me? Now? After being in this world for over a year?
We were taken down a back hallway. It had little lights on the floor until we came to an office.
The guy knocked on the door as he opened it into another dark room, but not as dark. A few lamps in the corners gave the room a soft glow. Behind a large desk, a guy sat in a chair with a girl giving him a lap dance. Behind them was a large, glass room. It was like a wine cellar, but there wasn’t any wine. Instead, a few heavily made-up girls lo
unged in bikinis behind another glass wall. Their hair was done in updos that must’ve needed an entire bottle of hairspray, and all of them were wearing high heels.
They looked miserable.
“Raize.” The guy wheeled his chair back and smacked the girl’s ass.
She got up, giving Raize a look before sauntering out of the room. None of the guys paid her any attention. All eyes were on Raize, with a few looks coming my way.
“Oscar.”
Raize was guarded, but no surprise there. He was extra alert. I could feel it. I didn’t know if this was a weird homecoming or we’d be involved in a shootout. Either way, Raize stood next to me, within reach of his gun in my bra, but he kept his hands free and loose at his sides.
Oscar looked tall and trim, his long legs kicked out and one ankle crossed over the other. He leaned back, his fingers drumming against each other. He wore what looked like an expensive suit with a few gold chains around his neck. His eyes were dark. His hair was dark as well. I couldn’t place an age on him. But the more I looked at him, the more slimy I felt. This guy was dirty, and not just because of the strip club and all the girls. If I’d met him in Target, he still would’ve made my stomach roll.
Then his eyes slid my way, and the dirtiness turned into a rotten sort of feeling.
He tipped his chin up. “Who’s this? I’ve never known you to take a traveling companion.”
Raize barely flicked a gaze my way. “She’s no one.”
A quiet snort came from behind me, from the guy who’d met us at the door. It was so quiet, I was sure only I’d heard it.
“Right.” Oscar’s tone turned mocking, but it seemed we were back to business. He stood up, and his voice dropped, getting serious. “What the fuck are you doing here? Walking into my business? I know Estrada wants you dead.”
I felt a bristling in the air at those words.
I tensed.
“I wasn’t aware Estrada wanted me dead.”
Oscar’s eyes flashed, and his lip curved in a sneer. “Right. Where’s Macca then?”