Valerie
“Here.” Carlyle’s secretary smiled warmly as she handed me a glass of tea, not a mug, and the heat suffused my palms almost instantly. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.” He’d stuck us in what could’ve been a board meeting room, and I took a sip of my tea and set it down before I dropped it. For the moment, my sister, coworkers, and I were alone, and my brain puttered along sluggishly. The memory of the name on the package meant it was addressed to me, but . . .
Natasha hadn’t heard anything at all from Mom or the guy that I’d talked to that once? How did things escalate to the point of being blown up?
The doors swung open, and I glanced over to find Carlyle and who I assumed was his brother because they looked a little the same, but for glasses and build. He barely glanced at me, and I inhaled a shuddering breath as he slapped a sheath of papers on the table.
“You really haven’t gotten any calls from this guy? Which means they’re specifically targeting Valerie. Why? You’re her sister— you know her best.” Natasha was in far better shape than I was, and she flopped back in her seat to sigh frustratedly.
“She’s younger than me, and I guess that means she’s a spineless bitch? I don’t fucking know why. How’d you get my phone records?” Carlyle ignored the last question completely to sit down at the head of the table, and I felt safer having him two chairs away. “Mom must guess she’d be easier.”
“Do you have any idea at all who your mother’s debt is to?”
“Not specifically, but some dude was following me at one point. I’d recognize him— he had face tattoos.” Surprise burst from my lips in a squawk, and Natasha’s gaze flickered to me to glisten in regret. “I never told you because I knew you’d freak out.”
“Face tattoos are used a lot in gangs and cartels, so being in Dallas, it wouldn’t be a small list. Do you know anything to narrow it down?”
“Carlyle, the major gangs in Dallas wouldn’t send someone high enough ranking as to have a face tattoo after them. It has to be a small fry trying to act big.” Speaking up from just behind his brother, Oran— that was his name, right— cleared his throat roughly. “My contact told me they’ve had an upset the past year and a half or so, someone gobbling up territory. Somehow, they haven’t gotten under the major players’ skin yet to be dealt with.”
“Call Pedro Gonzalez and tell him to get his ass here.” Carlyle’s eyelid twitched in agitation, his already deep voice a growl, and I felt myself getting sucked out of my body. Who was he? How could he be so levelheaded? How’d he get Natasha’s phone records?
How’d he suspect it was a bomb?
“Pedro Gonzalez? The guy who executed half a town on the border?” Speaking up cautiously, Fred sat up in his chair, and Carlyle nodded unabashed. “What the fuck is going on here? Who are you? How’d you get us off the street without the police getting too involved?”
Carlyle leveled a stare, and I gnawed on my inner cheek as the tensions rose. Inhaling deeply, he stood up only to sit on the table, and unease ate away at my gut.
“Do you really want the answers to those questions? The simple one is I am rich. I can buy anything— the police included. I can buy the best hacker in the world, and I can get rid of anyone, anywhere, anytime, and no one will ask questions.” The badly disguised threat shut Fred up, and Carlyle scoffed lightly before turning back to my sister. “Do you have any way to narrow down the list, Natasha?”
“U-um . . . I mean, I can describe him pretty well. He was following me for weeks.” Carlyle nodded, gesturing to his brother without looking at him, and Oran left the room for some reason I couldn’t quite put together yet. “I tried really hard to stay out of my mom’s bullshit, so I wouldn’t even know a general location.”
“The description will be good enough.WhenI find your mother, I’ll hold onto her until you decide what you want to do. Until then, I’ll show you to your apartment.” Standing up, Carlyle glanced between the two men thoughtfully before cocking his head. “Would you prefer to commute to work or take a temporary stay? Neither of you has kids, and your wife is divorcing you, so it’s up to you.”
“You know my wife i—” Marshal cut himself off, and I glanced over dazedly as he shook his head. Everything moved around me, like a glass wall erected between me and everyone else. “I’ll take the stay— it’s better than crashing on your couch, Fred.”
“I guess I will, too, then.” Staring at the edge of the long table, I wrapped my arms around myself as the air moved along my cold skin. Blood drummed in my ears, and my heartbeat throbbed through my whole body with each slow, weak pump.
“Llane will show you across the bridge. Just follow her.” When Fred and Marshal had shuffled out, Carlyle closed the door behind them, and he wandered over to drop into the chair next to mine. “Are you alright, Valerie?”
The world moved in slow motion as I tilted my head, and Carlyle managed a grim, ugly smile as he rubbed his palms together. Everything was in a wide shot, and I simply nodded dumbly when his question finally processed.
“We need to talk when you’re feeling up to it. Someone is thoroughly going through your apartment right now, and I’m going to find out who made that bomb.” My throat tightened at that four-letter word, and Carlyle leaned his forearms on his knees to sigh. “Pedro will move mountains not to get on my bad side, so he’ll cooperate. Until we sort this mess out, you’re both going to stay here. If you need anything, no request is too outlandish.”
“I . . . I need a shower.” Nodding curtly, Carlyle held out his hand, and I took it without thinking. His skin washot, hot enough to melt off his bones, hot enough to bubble, but not hot enough to burn me. Standing up on wobbly legs, I sniffed hard as I leaned into his chest, and he cupped my head and hooked an arm around my back.
“Follow me, please.” Those strong arms didn’t waver as they led me around the chairs and out of the room, and I exhaled a shuddering breath. “Would you like anything particular, Natasha?”
“Some really good booze and a lot of ice cream, yeah. Please.” His heartbeat against my chin was sure and strong as he nodded again, and I glanced up at Carlyle through glazed eyes. “I take it we’re not going to Vegas.”
“Unfortunately not, no.” I wasn’t sure which direction we went, but he eventually swiped a card and opened the door to usher me inside. “I’ll have your things delivered here when they arrive. For now, just relax. You’ll be fine here. I’ll let Cindy know you won’t be meeting together until next week.”
“Carlyle . . . ” My own whisper sounded alien, and he hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Right this way.” Leading me past the kitchen, he popped open a door directly to the right at the lip of the hallway. “Let me know if you need anything, Valerie. You, too, Natasha. As I said, no request is too much.”
Leaning on the door frame, I blew out a hot breath as Carlyle retreated, and I closed my eyes while my sister slumped opposite me. My mind puttered along a little faster now that we were alone, and she stared holes into my face before I managed enough strength to open my mouth.
“It’s happening all over again.” My bare whisper earned me a sad twitch. Ifeltit flutter along my cheek, and Natasha took my hands to drag me into the bathroom. She flicked the lights and turned the shower on, and I cracked open my eyes just enough to see where I was going.
Knowing the water was cold as it drenched my hair and clothes didn’t make it feel any less hot, and I sat down against the tiled wall to pull my knees to my chest.
