The Rising, page 45
part #1 of Unlawful Men Book 4 Series
Danny smiles at my enthusiasm and drops a peck on my nose. “I’ve some business to clear up first.”
“We shouldn’t mention it to Daniel until it’s definite,” I say. He’d be broken if I gave him this and then took it away. Danny smiles as he goes, reading my thoughts and fears. If the principal does find out Danny’s who he is, Daniel won’t be getting into that school. Simple. I will do everything in my power to make sure the principal thinks Danny shits rainbows and goes to church every Sunday. Will they check that? If he goes to church? I need to speak to Father McMahon.
“Come with me a minute,” Danny says quietly, taking my wrist and pulling me out into the hallway. He has a quick check around before he speaks. “What do you know about Pearl?” he asks.
“What?” I ask, my forehead bunching.
“She’s been asking after Brad.”
“Ohh,” I breathe. “You too, huh?” I look past him to the kitchen. “James was asking too.”
“I think that’s one of the reasons he fucked off to the hotel and fucked his way through fuck knows how many women.”
I look at Danny, disgusted. “He did what?”
He shrugs, like it’s standard. Standard. “Wait, did you tell Pearl?”
“Yes, I fucking told Pearl. We need to nip that in the bud.”
Is he for real? “What, like you’re trying to nip Otto and Esther in the bud?” I ask. “Because that’s going well.”
He blinks, surprised.
“What are you?” I rant on. “The love police?”
His surprise morphs into irritation, and I roll my eyes dramatically, not doing myself any favors, but . . . screw him. “Rose, we hardly know her.”
I laugh hysterically. “You didn’t know me.”
“She’s twenty-one.”
“Don’t forget the small matter that she’s a foreigner.”
“She’s British,” he says, confused.
“Precisely.” I poke him in the chest and immediately apologize for it when he withdraws, grunting with pain. Damn it. “I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven.”
“Anyway, your little plan to put her off Brad may have worked,” I tell him. “She looked appalled when I told her Hiatus is a strip joint.” Innocently, of course.
“Good.”
I suppose Danny’s right. Brad’s not a one-woman kind of guy. Pearl’s young, naïve. Brad will only hurt her. I sigh. I would say Pearl should be kept away from this world, but she’s already exposed to it. Already in it. “You’d better go.” I reach up on my tippy-toes and kiss his scarred cheek. “James said he’d meet you at Hiatus.” I turn and head back to the kitchen, but he grabs my sweater and hauls me back to him, draping me over his arm. I let out a surprised yelp and find his eyes.
“You know the best thing about having a fiery marriage?” he asks, and I smile, despite myself. I love making up with him. I sickly love sparring with him. Bickering. Arguing. Fighting. It’s the reasons why we fight that I hate. I grab his cheeks and land a big kiss on his lips, and Danny quickly takes it deeper, introducing his tongue. I lap it up on a contented hum and swallow every magical sound of pleasure he makes until he returns me to my feet, turns me by my shoulders, and sends me away. I hear the front door close and go to the window in the kitchen that looks out onto the front, seeing him sliding into the passenger seat of one of the Mercedes. Ringo’s at the wheel.
“This kitchen gets busier and busier,” Esther says as Brad strolls in with a face like a slapped ass. He’s suited, but the sling supporting his shoulder takes it from classy to creased.
“Morning,” I say, casual, going to the chopping board and picking up half a lemon.
He grunts, looking at the girls at the table as he passes them, not uttering even a hello. Pearl looks down at her coffee, and Anya looks at me, her thick, beautiful, naturally shaped eyebrows high.
“I think Pearl and Anya should come work at the club,” I say, nibbling the corner of the lemon.
Brad freezes, looking at me in horror. “I don’t need any staff.”
“Umm, actually, I recall Mason saying he’d lost a few girls.”
His eyes widen, and warning comes at me. What’s his problem? He doesn’t even deal with the bar staff. That’s Nolan’s job. It could be mine if my husband would relax a little. Besides, Pearl’s clearly gone off Brad. “It’s a no.”
I look at him in disbelief. “They need something to do.”
“I said no,” he bellows, swinging around and knocking his shoulder on a cupboard. We all recoil in shock at his outburst. “Fuck!” he yelps, dropping his coffee cup. It shatters across the floor, Brad curses some more, and then stalks out of the kitchen, leaving behind a gallery of speechless spectators.
“Oh, I say,” Esther breathes, going to the cupboard and digging out the dustpan and brush before snatching a towel off the counter. “Whatever has gotten into him?”
I look at Pearl.
She looks away.
This house right now is like a box of tension. A pressure cooker waiting to explode. I have to get out. I leave the kitchen and take the stairs fast, running down the corridor to Daniel’s bedroom. I swing open the door and find it empty. TV room. I backtrack, taking myself back downstairs, finding Daniel on the couch with Tank. Neither of them look up at who’s entered, their serious attention on the screen.
“You’re not needed today?” I ask.
“You’re here,” Tank says, his thumbs working hard on the controller in his hand. “And so is the little man. I’d be out with Fury looking for Beau if I could.”
“We’re going out for pizza,” I say. Those simple words. Simple but so strange. So strange, in fact, both Daniel and Tank stop playing and look at me like I need checking in at an asylum. “We are,” I assure them, pulling out my cell.
“I’m going nowhere unless I get it from the boss’s mouth.”
“Mom’s the boss,” Daniel says, making me smile. That’s not quite true, but I’ll take it.
I pull some confidence from nowhere and dial Danny, taking my cell to my ear. “Miss me?” he asks in answer as I start to pace in front of the fireplace.
“It’s painful.”
He laughs softly. “What do you want, baby?”
“To take Daniel out for pizza.” I hold my breath, turning away from Tank and Daniel so they can’t see my screwed-up face.
“Okay.”
My face drops. “What?”
“I said, okay.”
Okay? Just like that? I click my cell to loudspeaker and turn to Tank. “Can you repeat that, please?”
“You can take Daniel for pizza.”
“Cool!” Daniel chucks his controller aside and turns off the TV.
“Thank you.” I smile sweetly and disconnect the call. “Not that I needed his permission,” I add, leaving a laughing Tank and Daniel behind. “Be ready at one.” How ridiculous that I’m this excited to take Daniel out for plain old pizza? Crazy!
I take the stairs two at a time, dialing Beau, begging her to turn her cell on and pick up. She doesn’t. I pass Zinnea’s room and slow, reversing my steps and knocking on the door. “Come in,” a voice calls, and I push my way in. I’m not faced with the vivacious alter ego Zinnea Dolly Daydream. Lawrence is sitting in the chair by the window in an unusually plain red kimono, his natural hair damp from a recent shower—no lashes, no makeup, nothing. I pout when he looks at me sadly.
“Come for pizza,” I say, giving him begging eyes.
“Where the hell is she?” he asks, sounding as ordinary as I have ever heard Lawrence sound. Frankly, it doesn’t suit him. “I should have stayed in St. Lucia. I can’t stand this worry.”
“She’ll be home.” I go over and take his hands, pulling him up. “Come on. The boss has given me permission to leave our prison. I’m not going without you.”
“Fine, fine,” he sighs, waving me off. “What time are we leaving?”
“One.”
He looks at the clock on the nightstand that shows it’s just gone ten. “Good Lord, I better get a move on.” He scuttles off to the bathroom and shuts the door, and I go to my room, dialing Beau yet again. I get her voicemail again, but this time I leave a message.
I beg her to call me. The wobble in my voice is not fake.
I’m so fucking worried about her.
* * *
In those three hours from ten until one, Lawrence didn’t find it in himself to transform into Zinnea. Instead, he pulled on some Bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt, some black and white checked Vans, a tie-dyed baseball cap that he has on backward, and has some thick-rimmed round spectacles covering his puffy eyes. But he’s here.
“Daniel, it’s not growing legs and running off your plate,” I say, astonished, as Tank chuckles around his slice and Lawrence rubs his hair. I have never seen anyone eat pizza like it. I hate to think he’s making the most of his freedom, eating as much as he can as fast as he can. We can order pizza anytime, but it’s not the same as eating out.
My cell rings, and I blindly reach for it as I toss Daniel some napkins, answering. “Hello.”
I expect to hear Danny’s voice. Checking in. I don’t. I shoot up from the table. “Beau?” I blurt, and everyone pauses chewing and looks at me, eliminating any chance I have of keeping this from James. Not that I would or could. The man is a broken, lost mess.
“I’m fine,” she says, as I step away from the table, getting a warning look from Tank. I don’t go far, wandering in front of the bar area.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“I need answers.”
“That’s not what I asked,” I retort. “Where are you? You didn’t come home, Beau. I can’t believe how stupid you’re being.” I love her, understand her, but I cannot accept this level of recklessness. “James is so worried.”
“I know.” She sounds quiet. Defeated. “I don’t want him to worry.”
“Are you joking?” I stop with my pacing and look at the top shelf in disbelief. “You don’t want him to worry?” She really is acting stupid right now. “Beau, after killing, that is what our men do best. They worry about us. We’ve discussed this before.”
“I know.”
“Come home,” I beg. “Please.”
“Where are you?” she asks, obviously registering the hustle and bustle.
“At a pizza place in town.”
“With?”
“Tank, Daniel, Esther, and Lawrence.” I hope she also registers the fact I’ve mentioned her uncle, not her aunt.
“Lawrence is there?”
“Ye—”
The phone is snatched from my hand and Lawrence is soon yelling down it. “Beau Hayley, you will get your ass home this minute, do you hear me?” His mouth falls open and he looks at the screen. “She hung up on me!”
Burying her head. Being a coward and not facing the hurt and worry she’s causing. I put an arm around Lawrence and lead him back to the table. I want to point out the quite important fact that her call at least tells us she’s alive, but I don’t. I lower, get a knee rub from Esther and more questions from Daniel. “Why won’t she come home?”
I shamefully push the pizza toward him to shut him up. Of course, he doesn’t, looking at me tiredly as he talks over his food. “I’m fourteen soon, Mom.”
“I know,” I mutter, thinking talk of school would do the trick, distract him, excite him, but no. I’m not tempting fate. If the principal of this school finds out who we are, Daniel won’t be going anywhere near his school. Also, Danny could change his mind. Anything could happen. He might not be satisfied with the security. It might be too far away. Too . . . anything.
I take a chili from a pizza and pop it in my mouth, noticing Tank’s on his cell. He’s silent. And his face pales. Oh God. I chew and swallow as he hangs up and looks down at the table blankly. What the hell? I wave for a waitress to box up the rest of our pizza to take home and wait for Tank to declare our immediate departure. But the waitress comes, she goes, returns again with the boxed pizza, and he still hasn’t spoken. The rest of us all look at each other in question, and then Daniel puts a hand on Tank’s big arm and wins his attention.
“Are you all right, Tank?” he asks.
“That was the nurse.” Tank winces, reaching for his head and rubbing a hand across the back. “It’s my mom.”
“What about your mom?”
“They said it won’t be long.” He gets up, sits down, gets back up again, clearly in a muddle.
Oh no. “You must go.” I stand too, collecting my bag and the pizza boxes, putting some cash on the table.
“I can’t,” he says, motioning to Daniel, then me.
“That’s why we’re going with you.” I make it clear it isn’t up for discussion, looking to Esther and Lawrence to get moving. I don’t know what Danny will say. I don’t actually care. He won’t hold it against Tank, I’ll make sure of it. “You should call Fury too.” I take Daniel’s arm and lead him out of the restaurant. “Perhaps someone else should drive.” Tank looks shaken up, completely lost.
Daniel looks up at me as we walk down the sidewalk to the car, Tank close behind. “I feel bad for him, Mom.”
“Me too, darling.”
“He and Fury really love their mom.”
I nod, keeping myself together, trying not to think about all the lost years we’ve had. “Do you hate me?” I blurt out of nowhere, my fears spilling out of my mouth.
“Why would I hate you? You’re my mom.”
I exhale, exasperated with myself, and stop us just before the car. Lawrence and Esther are catching up, and Tank gets straight behind the wheel. “I wish I could give you more.” Good grief, I don’t even have to look down at him anymore.
He doesn’t say anything, his poor thirteen-year-old brain probably doesn’t know what to say. But he does hug me. And it’s the best thing he could do.
I so need it.
27
JAMES
It was fifty-fifty. Part of me hoped it would be Volodya sitting here so I wouldn’t currently be aching with the effort it’s taking me to remain in my chair, but the practical side of me knew Sandy was our best option.
So it’s a good thing I drew the shortest straw.
“John Theodore Little,” Sandy says, looking between Danny and me. “That’s the name of the man who bought Winstable?”
“That’s what I said,” Danny replies quietly, as I watch the men standing behind Sandy, who’s sitting comfortably on the couch in the office at Hiatus, much to my displeasure. “You told us you had information.”
Sandy nods slowly. Dragging it out. Milking this situation for everything it’s worth. The Brit and The Enigma wanting something from him. Or, more significantly, needing it. “Let me ask you this,” Sandy says, his accent not as thick as Volodya’s, as he crosses one leg over the other, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. “You English, what is the name Theodore . . . how do you say it? Reduced to?”
“Shortened?” Danny tilts his head.
“Yes, shortened. Theodore shortened.”
Danny and I toss frowns at each other, and Brad sighs from his chair. “Ted—” He pauses, darting wide eyes Danny’s way as ice glides through my veins. “Jesus.”
“Teddy,” Danny whispers, looking shook.
“And Little John,” Sandy goes on as it all falls into painful place in my mind.
“Was a bear,” Brad says, hitting his desk with a balled fist.
I exhale on a disbelieving, unamused burst of laughter. I don’t believe this. How the fuck did we need this Russian prick to help us figure that out?
Sandy nods, and Danny starts pacing the office, the stress and anger radiating from him on a whole new level. “Fuck!” he roars, punching a filing cabinet.
“It’s a penname,” Sandy goes on, unperturbed by The Brit’s temper.
“An alias,” I correct him quietly.
“Potatoes, tomato.”
Danny stares at Sandy like he’s a fire-breathing dragon, and Otto goes straight to his laptop, tapping away frantically.
“He had men on the inside,” Sandy continues.
Had. “He doesn’t anymore?” Danny asks, his chest rising and falling slowly, a result of him trying so fucking hard to contain his rage.
“I say no.” Sandy’s rugged face takes on an edge of disgust. “I was being watched by entry police.”
“Immigration.”
“That stopped as soon as I accepted The Bear’s offer to join him. Just yesterday, my bank accounts were frozen. I expect they’ll catch up with me again soon. These are legitimate accounts for a legitimate business. That speaks to me that he has lost whoever he had on the inside. I also had a call from a Detective Collins. She said if I give her details on some things, she will ensure my accounts were thawed.”
“Unfrozen.”
“My English—”
“Will do.” I look at Danny, shaking my head. Details on us. Collins wants details on us. Higham told us this. But is he covering his arse? In too deep? Naturally, we don’t mention Higham.
“I’m not interested in being a mouse.” Sandy gives each of us a moment of his eyes. “I want to remain here and run my business. I want Volodya gone.”
I laugh under my breath. That’ll please Danny. “What’s the deal with you two?” I ask, helping myself to another vodka. Just one more before I go out there and search the streets. Again. Up and down, up and down, hoping, calling her repeatedly.
“He cannot be trusted.”
Danny laughs loudly and holds his glass out for me to refill. I’m barely done and he’s necking it. He won’t be getting another. We’ve got a long afternoon ahead. The last thing we both need is to be stopped for riding jet skis under the influence while smuggling in our guns. Fucking hell, now more than ever I wish the delivery wasn’t today.
“He’s ex KGB,” Sandy continues.
I finally feel like we’re getting somewhere, and it’s bittersweet with Beau missing. I need to get to the bottom of this today so I can call her and get her back. Problem is, even if we get answers, I can’t fucking get hold of her to share. And this man in front of me, who could potentially end this for us, still tried to kill Beau. A flashback of her lifeless body on the bed after Dexter shot her invades every corner of my mind. The bullet wound on her tummy.
