Losing Streak (The Lane) (16 page)

Chapter Twenty

I knew I’d effectively gotten my point across to Rice when there was no word the next morning from Joshua about anything. Not that he didn’t have words for me. He had plenty of those that he was all too willing to share.

“I don’t understand the holdup, Rosemary.” He stood from behind his study desk and paced the length of his office. “You promised MacBain was under control. And yet it’s been another week and nothing. You’ve talked to him, correct?”

I nodded. “Numerous times.”

“Told him the stakes?”

“Without going into exact details, yes.”

“And Chief Daniels?”

“Stopped in and alluded to the charges that could appear if he didn’t comply.”

“Have you blacklisted him?”

“For a fair few days now.”

“Then what is the issue? What aren’t you doing?” He stopped pacing long enough to point a finger accusingly at me. “I need this deal handled. I need this done. You’re not fulfilling your end!”

There was no warning. One minute I was sitting there, calmly answering his questions and the next, I felt something in me snap violently and splinter into pieces.

“I’m doing everything I can! I can’t help it if Charlie MacBain is a stubborn son of a bitch. I’ve tried. I’m still trying. Stop acting like I’m not just as invested in this as you. I’m probably more invested than you! You own the entire fucking Lane save for Molly’s. I have nothing. So, yeah. I’m trying, okay? I’m trying and I’d really fucking appreciate it if you didn’t act like I’m not.”

I think my outburst surprised both of us, maybe him more so than me, judging by the way his eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he gaped at me.

I almost believed, for a second, that I was going to get away with it too.

He moved, a blur of motion that I could barely track, and before I realized what was happening, he was in front of me, leaning into my space, face close to mine and his expression dangerous.

“Do not get sassy with me,” he snarled, his cheeks an instant and alarming shade of red. “I have allowed you to get away with much, but if you can’t behave yourself with the freedoms you’ve been given, they can easily be taken away.”

“The freedoms I’ve been given?” I scoffed, despite my precarious position and how far I was leaning back in my seat away from him. “Yes. Let’s talk about the things I’ve been
given.
You said it yourself, I’ve had to work my ass off for everything. They weren’t gifts. Don’t act like they were gifts. And don’t act like every single one of them hasn’t come with strings and threats attached.”

His pale eyes crinkled to slits as he started to pull away and I raised my chin, defiance working its way into my shoulders, squaring them.

Damn straight
,
you’re going to back off
, I thought viciously at him.
You know I’m right
.

He drew back, his arm an angry, baffling slash that flew toward me. Before I could turn away from it or shield myself in any way, his palm collided sharply with my cheek.

“You will not talk back to me, you ungrateful little bitch,” he said in a low, menacing voice. The skin of my cheek seemed to throb in time to it. “I have given you everything. I have allowed you to do whatever your gold-digging little heart desires, and this is how you repay me? You were given a job, a simple job, and you have failed me. Have you even tried? Were you laughing at me? You were. You were laughing at me while you went and fucked off, completely disregarding your responsibilities. I won’t stand for it, Rosemary. I will not stand for it.”

He stepped back just as suddenly, straightening his clothes. I raised a hand to my face, cradling heated and tender skin against my palm.

“I regret that,” was all he said. Not sorry. Not even, “I shouldn’t have done that.” No. “I regret that,” as if he was discussing eating too late or missing his favorite show.

I gaped at him. I couldn’t help it. In all the time since I’d come to work for him, not once had anything like that been directed at me. I knew he was ruthless, of course. I knew what he was capable of—or rather, what he was capable of ordering others to do—but never had that cruel streak ever turned on me personally. Threats against mine, sure. But not me. Not like this.

I almost felt betrayed, which was stupid. I’d known the dog was rabid, was forever seeing the proof of that, and yet I was shocked it had turned on me. As though I truly believed I’d never get bit.

“Clearly we’re in need of a renegotiation,” he murmured as he moved around to sit behind his desk. He didn’t even have the decency to look at me. Instead, he fixed his eyes on his hands folded in front of him. “Of course, considering the circumstances, it will not be nearly as generous. Unfortunate, of course, but unavoidable. But you have been mostly an asset to me over time and I am not so unfair that I won’t take that into consideration.”

I knew the expression on my face was a dumb one, but I couldn’t erase it. Instead, I sat there staring at him, mouth hanging open, eyes squinted as if it would help me see things more clearly. He continued to ignore it and me, staring hard at his porcelain-colored fingers as they strummed against the dark wood of his desk, lost in thought. Finally, he stopped, a grin slowly overtaking his features.

“Five grand.”

I blinked once, my hand falling away from my cheek to land in my lap.

“Excuse me?” My voice was grainy, foreign even to my own ears.

“Five grand. Not as much as my original offer of thirty-five but still fair. More than fair, actually. Nearly charitable. You may keep your car and I’ll allow your mother to stay in her house at a reasonable price as my tenant. You will still be free to walk if you so choose.”

“The catch?”

“You and your preoccupation with catches. No catches. No strings. I will send in someone to give Charles MacBain a message. If you can manage to go in immediately following and close the deal once and for all, you will walk with what we’ve just agreed on.”

I nodded slowly, thinking, my discomfort momentarily forgotten as I considered how far five grand would get us. Not very. Nothing like the thirty-five would have. But with the car and the house, I could probably make it work long enough to get another job and float us. Of course, I’d have to move back in with Mama for the meantime, but considering the circumstances of her health, that probably would have been unavoidable anyway.

“Fine. Who will you send?”

“Oh, I have someone in mind,” he replied vaguely, waving the question off. “Of course, I’ll need you to schedule Carmen for Chief Daniels again. You know, as an incentive for him to look the other way. A thank-you in advance.”

I suddenly realized what he was implying.

“Wait. What kind of message? You’re not going to send in, I don’t know, Jared to talk to him?”

He shot me a droll look.

“I think the time for talking has passed, don’t you? After all, you admitted to trying that route already. Must I really spell it out?”

No. No, he didn’t. Not when he put it that way.

“It’s all up to you, obviously,” he continued. “If you don’t agree with the, let’s say, terms and conditions, then this all means nothing. Just talk. A brainstorming session.”

“And if I don’t? Agree, I mean.”

He shrugged but it was too calculated. Too casual.

“All bets are off the table.”

My heart sank. Of course it’d come down to this.

I’d done a lot that I wasn’t entirely proud of. I’d stood by and let things happen, allowed things to play out when I probably could have stepped in to stop them. It’d been easy to turn a blind eye to it, though. Because it was them or mine, and mine always came first. But I’d never, not once, outright condoned the harm of an innocent person. It was my one redeeming quality on a résumé full of awful skills and accomplishments.

But it was Mama. It was Mama and probably Jackson, or MacBain. I could risk myself, if I had to. If it had been me that harm would come to, I could say no and let the cards fall where they may. But not with them. Never with them.

“Charlie MacBain’s a big man,” I said, meeting Joshua’s eyes straight on. “You’ll need someone big to get the job done.”

He chuckled and it was dark, so dark, and genuinely amused.

“Oh, Rosemary. Sometimes I don’t know if you play dumb to make yourself feel better or if you’re genuinely that naive. No. I won’t need someone to match Charles MacBain’s size and power. I’m thinking a smaller scale, if you catch my meaning.”

Fuck. Fuck, of course I did. And I’d known it, hadn’t I? He was right. I’d been playing dumb. Purposefully dumb. He wouldn’t go after MacBain. That wasn’t his M.O. at all. No. He’d put the target on a smaller back. One sure to hurt MacBain more than his own bones being broken would.

A line in the sand had been drawn in front of me and crossing it held consequences I wasn’t entirely sure of. Hell, maybe. I wasn’t sure I even believed in hell, though Mama did and was scared of it. Life seemed a little too hell-like for me to believe that another, worse one was waiting beyond. But if it existed, surely agreeing to something like this would buy my ticket straight there. Was I willing to risk that?

My throat was raw and thick with regret. I wasn’t even sure what that regret was for. Maybe my body was reacting to what it knew my mind would decide.

I looked Joshua King in the eye, who might have been the devil himself, and I bought and paid for those tickets with my nod.

“Make the call.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Joshua hadn’t stuck around for much longer after that, citing some kind of meeting he had to get to. Not a meeting I had known about. Not one that I had seen scheduled anywhere. But I nodded once and once more when he reminded me to call Carmen and promised to be in touch soon. Then he was gone and I was alone.

I didn’t call Carmen, though. Not right away. Instead, I spent the next few hours pacing the length of the penthouse, pausing occasionally to stare out a window and rub at my aching cheek. At one point I caught sight of my reflection and I startled, taken aback to see such a vibrant red standing out against my pale skin.

Bastard.

Guilt tried reaching for me whenever I did stop moving. Its long, hard arms tried to wrap themselves around my chest and squeeze, but I batted them away and took to pacing again. What was done was done, and while it was a horrible, unforgivable evil, it’d been a necessary one. Mrs. MacBain had been right all along. I was a wolf. And like a wolf, I didn’t allow myself to mourn the prey.

I’d completed yet another pass when my phone suddenly rang out, cutting through the silence, causing my heart rate to spike. I hurried over to the end table and snatched it up, something close to a relieved sob escaping when I saw “Unavailable” on the screen. Brandon, then. Probably.

“Hello?”

“Motherfucking cocksucking son of a bitch!”

I almost giggled because I was obviously broken, but I managed to catch it before it bubbled out.

“What’s wrong?”

“What the hell isn’t wrong? Goddamn it!” He swore loudly and I heard a crack that sounded suspiciously like something being punched. “Guess who the fuck I just got off the phone with? Don’t bother guessing. It was King.”

“What?” I shook my head as if he could see, my heart plummeting somewhere around my knees, judging by the sensation. “No.”

“Yes. Wants me to go see Mrs. MacBain. ‘Be persuasive,’ this fucker says. ‘Forty-eight hours.’ And then he just hangs the fuck up.”

“But—but he never said—”

“What? That he was going to do this shit? Guess he figured you needed the help and because he’s a mean bastard he picks me to do the dirty work.”

Without thinking, I replied, “No. No. He never said you.”

I was met with silence.

“So you knew then? That he was planning something like this?” He didn’t sound judgmental and yet I knew. I knew he was thinking something and that something wasn’t pleasant.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“What did he threaten you with?” And just like that, something inside my chest eased. Because even though he might not have approved, he understood. There was something in that, at least.

“The usual.”

He was quiet for a minute, quiet enough that I’d wondered if he hung up, but then he sighed and it sounded a lot like, “Fuck.”

“Where are you?”

There was a beat of hesitation, too long not to notice. Too long not to mean something.

“Depot Town.”

“Meet me at the Laundromat over there. Go around to the back.” I didn’t give him a chance to answer before I hung up. Like that night so very long ago, there was just faith in the following, only now the roles were reversed.

Brandon, predictably, being closer, was already there when I pulled in. He straightened away from where he was leaning against the side of his truck, hair disheveled, as I crossed the short space between our vehicles and threw myself into the passenger seat. He was sliding in next to me within seconds.

“Drive,” I demanded, but he was already backing out and pulling away. We hadn’t even reached the road before he was back to rampaging, his frame almost vibrating with the force of his anger. His face was all hard planes and sharp angles and in his pauses, pauses that I didn’t fill, his jaw clenched so tightly a tic appeared there. I found myself watching it transfixed until he’d catch another wind and start up again.

“I don’t understand why you, though,” I finally said when he took another ragged breath, my voice calmer than it should have been. I was calmer than I should have been. Maybe seeing Brandon angry doused my own anger. “Why not someone else? Anyone else?”

“King’s got his reasons. Fucked-up, sadistic-ass motherfucking reasons.”

“But Rice—”

At the sound of Rice’s name, Brandon glanced over at me, mouth open as if he was going to say something scathing, but whatever it was died on his tongue. His eyes flashed dangerously and before I realized what was happening and why, he’d jerked his truck off the road onto the gravel, so hard rocks hit the undercarriage.

“The fuck is that?”

I frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

Without a word he pushed back the hair that had fallen across my face, his fingers brushing against my cheek in the process, making me wince.

“That,” he said, his voice low and dark, watching me carefully. “Where the fuck did you get that from?”

But he already knew. I could see it in his eyes. I nodded and that was all it took for him to explode.

“Fuck!” He struck out, punching his dash so hard that I gaped, wondering how there wasn’t at least a dent there. Maybe he wanted to put one there because he immediately hit it again, bellowing another curse in a strangled voice.

“How long has this been going on?” he demanded, his voice full of fire and brimstone.

I looked at him, took in that murderous expression on his face as he watched me carefully, waiting, vibrating. Finally, I shrugged.

“It was the first time. Joshua—” His name hung heavy and I realized just how little we spoke it out loud. “He’s never done it before.” I squared my shoulders and prepared myself for the lie I was about to tell. “I don’t think he’ll do it again.”

Brandon frowned but didn’t say anything at first, just continued to look at me as he reached out and traced the bruised skin as though his touch alone could erase them. He frowned when it didn’t.

“I’ll kill him,” he vowed softly. I almost laughed. But then he was dragging me toward him with a fierce grip, burying my face against his solid chest as if by hiding the damage before him, he could forget it existed. As if I could forget it existed.

Ironically, I almost could.

His breath was ragged against my crown as his fingers anchored in my hair, almost bruising. Tugging. But real. God. So real.

“I almost wish I could go back in time,” he said quietly. “Get a job like a fucking normal person.”

“Where would have been the fun in that?” I meant it to be a joke, maybe a poor one, but something to ease the tension I could feel in his muscles surrounding me.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered after a minute. “God, babe. I’m so sorry. This is my fault. All of it. I put you there. I handed you to him. He’s a twisted fuck and I practically gave you to him. You should hate me, you know. How can you not fucking hate me for this shit? I hate me for it.

“I’m done.” His voice was low, dark, full of anguish but also determined. I tried to glance up at him, but he tightened his hold on me and pressed a harsh kiss to my hair. “I mean it. I’m fucking done. I can’t do this anymore, Rose. I can’t. I can’t go in there and rough up some other guy’s girl. Everything I’ve done, every single fucked-up thing I’ve done, has been to protect you. Because I knew that if I didn’t do it, you’d be the one to pay. I’m a bastard but I’m not so much of a bastard that I could do something like this and live with myself after.”

“What can we do, though?” I snaked my arms around his waist and squeezed. “There’s a lot at stake here, Brandon. A hell of a lot at stake.”

“I know. Fuck, I know. Maybe we could go to MacBain? We could tell him what’s been ordered. Tell him he’s got to give in and this is why. Then we get through these last few weeks and we run. King’s reach isn’t everywhere. We’ll get the fuck out of here and leave this dying-ass town to the corpses.”

I nodded once against him and squeezed my eyes shut.

We had one month left. And in a month, my mama might be one of those corpses we’d be leaving behind when we ran.