And Sasha, like the other two, hooked up with a lot of women, but reportedly paid little attention to them afterward. His focus seemed to be on making money and making a name for himself in the syndicate. Then they’d splintered off to form their own organization and for three years, I only caught glimpses of him, sometimes in odd places, like a campus bar I went to. At the time, I assumed he was there for business or to meet a woman, but now, sitting in a strange car with bare feet and panties held together with shoestrings, I wonder whether the real reason for his being in that bar was that he was stalking me.
* * *
Anvil
When I enter the castle, I expect Trick to come at me hard with questions; instead he’s kicked back on a couch smoking a blunt.
It’s Zoe who jumps up and meets me halfway across the foyer.
“Z, what did I say?” C calls out, walking out from the kitchen.
Zoe flings her wild curls over her shoulders, grabs me by the upper arms and leans close. Her flowery perfume wraps around me.
“Rachel—my Rachel—is missing!” she whispers frantically. “It’s all over that someone took her. Do you know anything?”
I nod.
C exchanges a look with me. His says ‘what the fuck?’
“What do you know?” Zoe demands, her voice shrill.
“Trick, you want a word?” I ask.
Trick looks over his shoulder, blows smoke and smirks. “Nah. I figured out what I needed to know. How about you, ‘Vil? You need anything?”
I shake my head.
“Let’s take a ride,” C says to me.
Trick stands. “I’m coming. Give me a second, C. I’m light.”
My eyes go to the chest holster where Trick’s got his Glock. His going for more guns must mean someone other than the three of them has an idea that I took Rachel. The property where I’m keeping her has no ties to C Crue. I wanted them clear of it.
I hold up a hand, not liking where this is headed. C and I step outside. Zoe tries to join us. He kisses her, then sends her back inside.
Trick steps out and closes the door behind us. “I’ll drive. I’ve got one.”
We have our business discussions away from our residences and vehicles. Usually in hotel rooms chosen at random, and when Trick says he’s got one, he means he has a place in mind that should be secure.
Against my better judgment I get in the Rover. As we drive, I glance more than once at the clock on the dash. I want to get back to her.
I don’t say a word about it, or anything else, as Trick drives.
His choice is a motel just out of town and near the expressway. When we’re in a room that he paid cash for, we sit around a small table, leaning in and our voices partially drowned out by the television we turn on.
“You took her yourself?” C asks. “Or you took her from a kidnapper?”
“All me.”
“Did you send ransom notes? Or did someone—?”
“Me,” I say.
They both give me a questioning look. We makes millions every month. The only money of Frank Palermo’s I plan to take is the money his operation makes. We’ll get that when the war ends and his syndicate no longer exists.
“The emails were a test,” I say.
“Did they pass?” Trick asks.
