“I’d prefer to inject him with this and smile as I watch his life end.” I held up a full syringe that I pulled from my sleeve. So what if I had special cuffs made to store syringes and vials in? We all had our skills. Poisoning was mine.
Oleander gave me a quick glance that read far too much into what I didn’t say, before pulling away from the curb and out onto the street behind Jordan’s Maserati.
The inky sky did nothing for us as we sped through the city streets of East Dremest. With the lights that lined every block and more that spilled out from storefronts and buildings, there was no way we could hide unless we traveled down the side roads. Jordan was about speed tonight, not getting there undetected. He’d tried the other way and lost the person in question. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Now Jordan wanted the man to know he was coming. That his death was imminent, and the mafia boss himself would deliver it. My poisons were a backup. A just in case Jordan didn't feel like getting his hands and clothes bloody.
A part of me wondered if that was why Forest didn’t let himself get too close to me. If it had something to do with Jordan and the job I did. It wasn’t like the mafia life didn’t surround Forest. Any time he visited Hartley at home, there was Jordan and at least one guard watching.
It always came back to Forest with me. That wasn’t healthy at all. My thoughts shouldn’t continuously stray to a man who couldn’t bother visiting me as I healed.
My arm shot out and I punched the seat in front of me.
“What the fuck?” Raiden yelled.
“Sorry, we hit a bump.” I wasn’t at all. I needed an outlet for my aggression, and there was no one for me to kill.
"Shel..." Oleander pleaded. He didn’t have to say more than that. He’d been begging me to open up. Hell, so had Arden, our resident therapist. I’d been seeing him somewhat regularly. We’d mostly unpacked my horrible childhood and worked on ways to help heal the past trauma. Although, I didn’t believe there was any way to possibly mend it. My mom was dead thanks to my father. He rotted in jail, slowly dying due to drinking himself into oblivion for years. I longed for the phone call from the prison to say he’d finally died. That fucker hung on out of spite though.
“Not now,” I muttered.
“Yes, now,” Raiden barked. He had a right to, since I punched him in the back. “You’re lucky you have your poisons on lockdown, or you could have stabbed me with one of them.”
“That’s a bit excessive, considering they don’t move when I land a punch. Plus, the thickness of the seat is more than the length of my needles.”
“He’s coming back tonight,” Oleander interjected. It wouldn’t do any good to fight with Raiden. I didn’t want to feel both his ire and Lane’s. Alton was a healer, not a fighter. I could hold my ground, but two on one wasn’t the kind of fun I wanted to have right now.
“It doesn’t matter,” I grumbled. “Nothing will change. It hasn’t in months. This will be no different.” I really needed to get out of this mood. Once the moon changed, I should be fine. Normally, I didn’t notice it. Tonight, it was right fucking there.
“You don’t know that for certain.”
Turning, I looked out the window, not bothering to respond. I’d have to bring something sweet to Raiden’s apartment later asan apology. I shouldn’t have lashed out. It wasn't like me. I was the calm one—the one who was always steady. An effort wasn’t made to be that way. I just was.
Fortunately, neither Raiden nor Oleander would repeat what happened in here. They wouldn’t tell anyone I slipped. We all had our parts to play, and mine was the mediator, the person who could soothe Jordan and any situation. If I lost that, I could be out of a job. As much as the guards kept a bit of distance between us, we were still some sort of fucked-up family. The kind who weren’t related by blood but would die for each other. God, it was a wonder I didn't need multiple sessions a week with Arden. There was so much to unpack.
The SUV finally came to a hard stop, and the doors opened as we saw a person run into the shadows. It was another day in our lives. Another piece of shit human to get off the streets. Another floor for the cleaners to scrub after blood had run over it in one of Jordan’s warehouses.
It wasn’t conventional. It wasn’t legal. It was downright brutal, and we loved every second of it. Plus, it had the added benefit of keeping my mind and body busy. I’d worry about my thoughts spiraling as I washed up later.
2
FOREST
My eyes were barely open as I walked through the door to my apartment. The curtains were as I’d left them—open. A soft glow cast inside from the streetlight. The city wasn’t dark, no matter what time of night it was. I sometimes missed living away from it. The nights I’d spent in that little house on the sound in North Carolina were hot inside, thanks to the air conditioner only churning out so much cold air, but they were dark enough where I could see the stars. There was too much light pollution here.
Wheeling my suitcase inside, I shut the door behind me and locked it, leaning against it, my weight nearly dragging me to the floor. I was so tired, bone-deep, could sleep for a week, exhausted. I also felt all of my forty-nine years. It wasn’t often, but today, I felt old.
My job ran me ragged. I could have stayed where I was and not taken the promotion. Money wasn’t an issue. Rent was cheap where I lived, thanks to the apartment being in a building my brother owned. He could have charged me a lot more than he did. Hartley was glad I was here and not across the country in California, where I’d lived previously.
Being this close to him, only two blocks from where he resided and above where he worked, I saw my brother more thanever. At least, I did until I agreed to this job. This wasn’t the first time I regretted taking it.
Pushing from the door, I walked toward the windows facing the street and reached to pull the curtains closed when I paused as the streetlights caught the lines of a familiar Maserati. A Navigator followed behind it, making my heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure who was in those vehicles, except for the mafia boss my brother was in love with and his driver, Albert. My mind didn’t focus on them though. It went to someone I couldn’t stop thinking about.
Sheldon stirred feelings in me that no other man ever had. It wasn’t a bad thing. I didn’t reject being with a man. I just hadn’t done so before. After spending my entire life thinking I was only attracted to women, finding Sheldon mesmerizing took time to reconcile.
Part of it was who he worked for. It was wrong to think it was fine for Hartley to be associated with Jordan, but not Sheldon. They weren’t the same in my mind though. Hartley was my blood. I’d do anything for him. After not being who he needed for years, I was trying to make up for it. Hartley deserved better than I’d given him in the past.
When our grandfather died, the man who raised us, both of our parents were already in the ground for many years. I didn’t handle it well. That was an understatement. I was a fucking mess.
We called him Pop. He was an important figure to us. When he passed, he left everything to Hartley, including his debt. I wasn’t surprised I didn’t get the house. My brother had always been the responsible one. He took care of the funeral arrangements while I drank myself to sleep. After the service, I flew back to California to drown my sorrows. I missed the man who’d raised us. He’d loved us with everything he had.
