Lethal

by Robbins, Cassandra

  Copyright © 2019

  LETHAL by Cassandra Robbins

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or scanned in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the need of quotes for reviews only.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and establishments are the product of the author’s imagination or are used to provide authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Edited: Nikki Busch Editing

  Cover Design: Michele Catalano Creative

  Formatting: Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC

  Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography

  Cover Model: Roddy

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Connect

  Also By Cassandra Robbins

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  EVE

  Present

  “Holy shit, they’re coming.” Strike that—he’s coming! “Where the fuck is Benny?”

  The dust cloud is so thick it’s almost suffocating. I close my eyes against the dirt to keep them clear.

  “Never mind.” My voice is loud over the rumble and screeching of their iron horses. “Get to my dad before they do.”

  The dark-haired boy named Santiago nods. His big brown eyes hold terror. He should be scared. Hell is about to burn us open. A small twist of guilt wraps around what’s left of my questionable conscience as I look at the dirty ten-year-old who happened to have the bad luck of working in my booth today.

  “Go.”

  He bolts under the counter and takes off like the boogeyman is after him. And maybe he is, or at least after me. I watch as dirt puffs up while he runs toward my trailer. My eyes scope the neon lights, the Ferris wheel, and the Tilt-a-Whirl. The rides still move; people are still laughing even though bad men are coming. Pushing open the counter on the side of my stand, I ignore the couple whining about the darts that I’ve dropped on the plywood floor.

  “What the hell? I paid you ten dollars. Where do you think you’re going?” the stupid guy sneers.

  The girl covers her nose, dust swirling and dancing around us as the motorcycles spin and skid in the parking lot.

  “You two need to get out of here. Shit is going down.” I reach for my knife taped under the wooden counter, grab my backpack, and almost laugh at the horror on these two idiots’ faces. Truth be told, they are probably my age. But I feel ancient compared to them.

  The guy slams his fist on the counter causing the girlfriend to gasp and jump. “This is unbelievable. I’ve heard you guys are scum, but you can’t steal my money and leave. I’ll call the cops, bitch.” His light brown hair is gelled back and he’s wearing skinny jeans. That fact alone should make me let the motorcycle club take him out. I heave the backpack over my shoulder and start to walk across the loud carnival area.

  “Hey! You can’t do this, blondie,” the douche screams at me.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I yell over my shoulder. “Get away from here. Trust me, that’s worth the ten dollars you gave me.” My hands clench at my sides as I watch the girl wisely pull the guy away. He’s still bitching about not being able to win a disgusting, moldy stuffed animal from China.

  “Fucking pathetic.” I run across the long field checking behind me as I go.

  “Benny… please be in the trailer, please.”

  The sun is lowering and heavy metal music blares out of the speakers. I know in my heart Benny’s gone and more than likely not coming back. Same way I know this betrayal will be the final straw for me. As I exhale, the taste of dirt lingers in my mouth. My mind scrambles with all my options, but with my dad and his lack of mobility… I’ll have to take responsibility for Benny’s actions. They’re coming, and the only person I give two shits about in this fucked-up world is my dad.

  Pushing my long hair behind my shoulders, I wish I had something better on. But who am I kidding? The bikers want their money. I could be wearing a ball gown, and unless it’s covered in diamonds, it’s not going to do me any good. Though I don’t know how much Benny owes them, I only have about $500 stashed away, and I can only pray it’s not as bad as I think. Tucking my head down, I run to my trailer. I don’t even get the door open when a tan tattooed hand grabs me and jerks me inside so violently my teeth chatter.

  Blinking, I try to adjust my eyes to the dark cave-like feel of our trailer. The sound of wheezing comes from the corner and my eyes bolt to my father. His once-strong frame, now shriveled and weak, is slumped over in a sad excuse for a wheelchair. Another tattooed monster stands next to him.

  “Jesus Christ! He can’t breathe without his oxygen.” I go to move toward him, but that tattooed hand is still wrapped around my arm. I twist back and forth, then stop as I realize it’s pointless. What I need to do is think and assess the situation. My dad’s oxygen mask is still on, but his skin is sweaty and pale, with an almost gray, waxy look. My tears burn as I watch my sweet father take small hissing breaths.

  “Please.” I look around for the first time since I was jerked into the trailer and I’m stunned. It’s been completely ripped apart. They’ve torn off cabinets, thrown the microwave and TV on the floor, and split open all the furniture. That means our piece of shit couch and chair, along with Benny’s and my mattresses in the corner, are trashed. Feathers dance around causing me to shiver at how serious this is.

  “Where’s Benny?” His voice is deep and gravelly and I instantly search for the leader. A shudder goes up my spine. I’d know that voice anywhere. After all, its haunted me for two years.

  “Or better yet, where’s Paul?” I can’t place that voice.

  I glance around for poor Santiago. I don’t see him, but there are a lot of big bikers in my small trailer.

  “My father needs his oxygen,” I plead.

  “Where’s your junkie brother? You want oxygen for your old man, you better talk fast.”

  I search the room for that voice.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.” It’s the truth, but they’ll never believe that.

  Then I see him, like a fucking immortal. He’s almost too beautiful to be real. I take a step back, tilt my head up, and realize that I’m fucked. There will be no negotiating. There will be no mercy. It’s all right there in his pretty green eyes.

  Unless my brother, the junkie, miraculously walks through this door, I’m not going to live to be a day over eighteen. Happy Fucking Birthday to me.

  EVE

  Two years earlier

  “Just let me handle this, all right?” I look over at my brother’s current girlfriend Marina and make a necessary decision. “Actually, wait here. I’m only running in for a couple things.”

  Her carrot-red hair that always reminds me of Pippi Longs
tocking, bounces back and forth. It’s one of the few books I’ve read, so whenever I see her, I almost look around for the pet monkey. Marina is like the adult version of Pippi, meaning she has the bright orange hair, lots of freckles, and big boobs. I guess that’s why men like her. Because her personality and face are lacking. But hey, that’s my opinion.

  We’re parked in a Walmart parking lot. Her stocky, freckled legs are on display in her ratty denim miniskirt. Of course, she sports a wife beater with no bra. At first, I thought I could use her as a decoy but her nonstop bitching about my brother and their sex life or lack of one is making me want to gag and reconsider.

  She opens her door to my dad’s piece of shit Ford pickup. “No way. I’m supposed to babysit you.” She squirms as she tries to wiggle her skirt down.

  I roll my eyes as I exit the truck too. “What do you want in here? And nothing fancy. We’re running late.”

  The sun is out and I lift my face to its wonderful soothing warmth. With my eyes closed, I chant in my head for her to say nothing.

  Instead I hear, “I need mascara and some lipstick. Red and maybe some nail polish to go with the lipstick.”

  I eye her and smile. “Absolutely. You know what to do.”

  She snorts as we enter the large store, a blast of cold air making my skin pebble. I rub my hands up and down my tan thighs, ignoring all the leering looks we get. Men are gross. All they do is stare and maybe because they think I’m trash, they think they can disrespect me with their disgusting mouths.

  I sigh as I hear a catcall and a “hey baby come sit on my face.” This is why I hate growing up. It was so much easier to steal as a dirty-blond-haired girl than as a pretty blond woman. And as much as I try not to be, I am. I look like my dead mother. Tall, blond, and thin. Blue eyes, long legs, such a fucking drag.

  Marina swishes her ass so much she actually bumps into me.

  “Jesus Christ. Pull it together,” I snap. “I’m going to go get my shit. You just… I don’t know… browse.” I wave my hand at the magazine section.

  “Don’t forget my stuff.” She’s not even looking at me, her eyes glued on a creep sitting at a table stuffing his face with a Subway sandwich.

  I take off down the aisle quickly taking in the cameras located inside the store. I have my large purse and I don’t like to brag, but I’m kind of a master at this shoplifting thing. In a flash, I have all my stuff. Balloons, tampons, Neosporin for my dad’s elbow. I throw in a couple CoverGirl LashBlast Volume mascaras and some hideous red lipstick. If I was nice, I would tell her she should never wear red lipstick. But I’m not and Marina’s a stupid slut so whatever. My handsome brother is way too good for her—or at least he used to be. Benny looks a lot like me but taller. Although lately he’s been losing weight and his pretty skin is breaking out.

  As I walk over to the electronics section, my skin pebbles again with excitement. I stand and watch a couple kids argue about which is better X box or PlayStation. Rolling my neck, I notice two blue-colored shirts behind a white counter. And halleluiah, they have girls in them. Both are engrossed in their phones, not caring at all what people are doing. The store is enormous, but this section always has more traffic. I glance at the smartphone section and sure enough, a small guard is looking at me. This is why I wanted Marina. Even with her homely face, her tits could have been useful. I smile at him and he immediately looks away.

  Smirking, I don’t hesitate and grab a display phone then turn and walk away along with my giant tampon collection. Got to love tampons. They make even the biggest, scariest guys look away. I bring the phone to my ear—and this is my favorite part—I start talking to my pretend boyfriend. We’re fighting, so of course my voice is loud. The more I talk, the less people have interest in anything but what I’m telling him. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

  As if I own the place, I walk straight for the nice little Hispanic man. He smiles kindly at me as I sit down my giant box of tampons and start to get tears in my eyes as I pretend to hang up on my pretend boyfriend. Shaking my long hair I drop the phone in my bag and sniffle up into his concerned eyes.

  He clears his voice. “That will be fifteen dollars and forty-five cents, and are you okay?”

  “Yes, I guess. Guy problems.”

  He nods. “Well, I have a daughter around your age. You need to dump him and concentrate on school.”

  I nod and mumble, “You’re probably right.” Brazenly I open my bag and grab my wallet, handing him a twenty. He gives me my change.

  “You take care.” His kind smile should make me feel bad. It doesn’t. I smile sweetly at him. It’s almost too easy. That charge I need not even coming anymore. How is that possible? Maybe I’ve gotten so jaded that at sixteen, nothing makes me excited. That would be depressing.

  After I stop to retrieve Marina from the creeper, who wants her number, I pull her along and together we approach the exit. At last, I feel a twinge of adrenaline because if the smartphone has a security tag, this will be when the alarm goes off.

  A couple of guys walk out right before us and it’s almost like I’m blessed. The alarm goes off and I have to bite my lip not to smile. Because as soon as I get close I go off too, but the guard is bringing the boys in thinking it’s them.

  Marina and I keep talking and exit the store. Warm air hits me as we make our way to the truck.

  “Did you get my stuff?” Her dilated eyes make me think she and the creeper might have smoked something.

  Again, I wonder why my brother keeps her around. I start the truck.

  “Yeah, I got your lipstick and some mascara. We need to hurry. I want to reinforce my balloons. Last night I gave away way too much shit.”

  She nods but is clearly in another world. I reach over and roll down my window and turn up the radio.

  We hit traffic. Of course we do—we’re in LA—and a drive that should have taken fifteen minutes takes forty-five. So, I’m sweaty and pissed that I can’t change my balloons. There’s not enough time since the lights and music are already on when we arrive. The carnival is almost ready to open. I park the truck next to my trailer and slap at Marina to wake up. Whatever she took was definitely not an upper.

  “Here.” I toss the mascara and ugly lipstick at her.

  “I’m late and I need to change. I’d say thanks for coming with me but…” I raise my eyebrow at her.

  “What?” she snips, reaching for the visor and checking herself in the mirror.

  “O-kaay, I’m out.” I grab my purse and swing open our trailer door. A cloud of smoke hits me. On our ugly green and brown couch sit my brother and Paul. Or Pauly the prick—that’s what I like to call him.

  “Jesus.” I wave my hand in front of my face. Deep wheezing coughs bring my attention to the back of the trailer where my dad sits on the edge of his bed.

  “Daddy? You okay?” I maneuver my way through the pile of dirty clothes and stand in front of him. His head hangs down and he is clutching a lit cigarette as he coughs and hisses his way through his latest bout.

  “Daddy?” My voice sounds small and frightened because I am. My dad is sick. His lungs are black and he’s slowly suffocating with emphysema. But do you think he would stop smoking for a second? No.

  For a moment, he looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and smiles. “Don’t give me crap, Baby Girl. I need one today.” He stands his full height and I almost burst into tears at my tall handsome father, not even fifty yet getting ready to die.

  “I understand. Are they… are they still coming?”

  I go to sit on the bed as he grabs his leather jacket. It’s hot out but he seems to get the chills. I know it’s because he gets fevers. But today he needs to look strong. He would rather die than show any weakness to the head of the Disciples, the MC that basically runs this area. Since we are only passing through, my dad and Benny usually buy a bunch of weed, meth, and whatever else is popular and sell it to the locals who come to the carnival. He’s been doing it for about five years, and it seems to be working
for us and the club. Easy money on both sides.

  I bite my bottom lip.

  “Evie.” He reaches under his dirty mattress, bringing out his six-shooter.

  “I want you to stay in your booth tonight. Don’t go wandering around while they’re here. I know Blade is trustworthy but the others I can’t be sure of.” He brings the cancer stick to his pale lips and inhales as if it’s his lover.

  Unable to watch him without crying, I stand. “Whatever you want, Daddy. I need to get ready.”

  I walk back out to the main room where Marina is straddling Benny. He seems to be fingering her as Pauly the prick watches, his gaze odd and disturbing.

  “God.” I pretend I don’t see it or hear it even when her moans get louder.

  The hacking and gasps from my dad’s room are what I focus on. I grab a clean top and my bag and run into the bathroom flipping Paul off as I go.

  The bathroom light buzzes and the ugly fluorescent glow fills the small space. I dig in the bag, pull out some deodorant, face wash, and face cream. I keep everything with me. You never know who might jack you. After I scrub my face and moisturize it, I slather on some bright pink lip gloss and use my bag as a shield as I walk out hearing Marina’s loud obnoxious groans along with Paul’s sick grunting. I might throw up.

  This can’t truly be my life, can it? I wish for the millionth time things were different, starting with my mom dying of an accidental drug overdose when I was twelve. She had sent me to the store for milk. When I got back, I found her staring blankly at the TV.

  My dad never got over it. Truthfully none of us did. I mean, how do you move on after that? My dad’s grief was real. And suddenly I was alone. It was like I lost everyone that day. Even Benny… instead of watching TV with me or working in the booth, he was busy trying to find a girlfriend or doing drugs.

  “Oh yeah, I’m gonna come, Benny.” Marina’s loud declaration snaps me back to my life.

  “For fuck’s sake, do it and shut up,” I shout over her. Wasn’t she complaining about her sex life not two hours ago? I slam the door, thankful I have somewhere to go.