Completely talking out of my ass here, but it’s working.
She gasps. “He’s sick!”
“That isn’t my problem.” I walk toward the front door, but glance over my shoulder and say, “Make sure your son knows he will receive a call from management.”
Which, of course, he won’t, but they’ll think twice about giving keys away all willy-nilly.
The door closes heavily behind me, and I walk down the few steps to the walkway and turn the corner to go around back to my private entrance. They really did try to make this building more than what it is. It’s like they’re going for a Boston penthouse even though I’m on the third floor in the suburbs. Whatever. It works for what I need.
It’s a quiet neighborhood, nothing like a downtown city and not like back home either. It’s like something out of a movie. The houses across the street have flower boxes in their windows for fuck’s sake, and they’re all painted similar pastel colors that look like they were pulled off an HOA list.
The walkway is lined by a black iron fence and thick bushes, with a couple gates that lead to the spacious parking lot. Each apartment gets two spots, except for me—I get four. Just as I turn toward the back of the building, a car pulls into the lot.
Sam’s car.
I ignore it, looking forward and hoping like hell she doesn’t see me. Panicking and rushing will bring attention to me. I don’t know what she would do if she recognized me, here, at the place she lives. Once I’m safely in the elevator, I let out a breath.
I swipe my card, the doors close, and up I go. Once at the top, I hurry to the window and look down at the lot. Sailor is standing to the side with her arms crossed, watching Sam pull a bunch of bags from the trunk. She looks so unhappy, and it makes me so fucking angry. She would be happy if she were with me. I’d do anything to make her happy—anything that it took, I’d do it. If only she’d give me the opportunity.
What is she doing with him? What is she doing here? She needs to come back home—to me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I don’t pull my eyes from her as I answer it.
“We have a problem.”
I recognize the voice—Vincent, my mother’s secondhand-man-turned-leader since the cowardly bitch is in hiding. I’ve known him all of my life, and for years I didn’t trust Vincent, thinking he was up her ass and doing as she asked, but I was wrong. Seems he’s been biding his time to take over, which tracks, since they’re all a bunch of snakes. Mother’s been pissing people off left and right for a long time, thinking she can do whatever she wants, when she wants, and without repercussions. Just because she’s at the top of the food chain doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to listen to anyone else. You’re only at the top when you have people at the bottom to hold you up. Seems she learned that the hard way, and it brings me a little bit of joy. Her time was coming to an end before she took off, and she did a great job hiding it from me, making it seem like she was more powerful than ever.
She knows she fucked up, knows she pissed off a lot of dangerous people, and that’s why she ran. It wasn’t just because of me—everything unfolded at the same time, it seems.
I couldn’t care less what is going on with the organization. Without her involvement, I can move on with my life and stop worrying about her hanging this shit over my head. However, my mother does still need to pay. And she will. As soon as I find her.
“What kind of problem?” I ask.
I first heard from Vincent a week after I killed Mindy. I wasn’t surprised when he called, but I was surprised about what he’d said.
It’s yours if you want it.
I didn’t hesitate. I don’t want it. Not a single fucking part of it. I’m sure he was aware of that, but asked anyway, which is so fucking respectable. But I also wonder if it was a test. It’s possible he planned on taking it the entire time and just wanted to know how much of a threat I’d be.
I’ll admit, there are things about running the organization that are tempting—like the power. Being able to get something done with a snap of my fingers. But it’s too much work, and I don’t have time for it. All I have time for is my little dove. And if she knew I was a part of that, she wouldn’t like it. It’s one more thing to keep her away from me, and so, I won’t do it.
It’s not official, but I am affiliated with them in a way, and I always will be thanks to my mother’s involvement. Vincent isn’t harassing me about taking my place the way my mother did, but I know he wants me by his side. Name means everything in that world, and mine, unfortunately, has a certain reputation thanks to my mother’s parents and their parents before them.
“Someone put in a missing person’s report for a Mindy Watson. They didn’t leave their information, but it was an older woman.”
“Fuck,” I growl, still staring down at the parking lot. Sam closes the trunk, one arm full of plastic bags stuffed full with a bunch of shit. “What do we do?”
Vincent had told me that this could all be pinned on me to keep the heat away from them—considering it all stems from their previousqueen—but he’s keen on getting me to join and he knows he won’t get anywhere by being a dick. He’s chosen to work with me, keep me in the loop while also getting my help—a little because I refuse to actually work with them, but I do need all this shit to blow over, and I could use their help while my mother is on the loose. It’s a one hand washes the other type deal… for now.
I don’t know why I’m wanted so badly, but people should fuck off with it already. Too many people would be willing to join, to be their bitch, yet they’re after me—the one person who wants nothing to do with it. The only thing keeping me from hanging up on Vincent or blocking his number is how helpful he’s been. Not only with handing information over on my mother, but withsome other things that have come in handy with Sailor. And of course there’s the fact he knows I committed murder, but he doesn’t have any proof, so that is debatable. He could stir up a lot of shit though.
At least I haven’t had to talk with Orville to get me what I need. Vincent has offered up his own guys for me to use, giving me access to what he has, with wanting nothing in return. At least not yet.
I know what he’s doing, and it may work. As much as I don’t want to be part of it, he’s making it more tempting than my mother ever did, but… I can’t. I won’t.
“Nothing as of right now. Thankfully, my guy was working at the station when she went in—talk about luck. He got rid of it, but it won’t take long for her to realize it didn’t work. She’ll try something different. Bigger, probably.”
“She won’t stop.”
