Mine to Hold

Prologue

The smell of death filled Rumor Crimson’s nostrils. It reminded her of three-day old fish mixed with sour milk. It was a scent she wouldn’t soon forget. It clung to her throat and imprinted on her brain.

She blinked but couldn’t look away from the dead body. She hadn’t killed the man, but his blood was on her hands.

Tony, her boyfriend, with plastic gloves on his hands, lifted the dead man’s cell. He tapped the screen. “Oh my God. Help. Help. There’s a gunman in—” Tony dropped the phone to the floor.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

Tony wiped the sweat from his brow with his bloodstained T-shirt. “When people steal from the boss, lie about it, and then try to run, this is what happens.”

She swallowed. In the four months she and Tony had been out of foster care and on their own, her life had turned into a living hell. Worse than being abused and abandoned by her biological parents.

Worse than the system fucking her in the ass.

She’d trusted Tony and thought she loved him, but what a mistake it had been to follow him through life. He was nothing but a loser and a criminal.

And now, a murderer.

“Not what I was talking about, and you steal from Tom.”

Tony raised his arm. The back of his hand landed on her cheek with a thud and a crack.

Her head snapped.

A sharp pain shot through her system like a lightning bolt.

She groaned. “That wasn’t necessary.” She wiped the blood that trickled from her face. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit her. But it sure as shit was going to be the last.

“Don’t fucking talk back to me, bitch. You don’t know shit. Now, go get the drugs. I’ll carry the money. We have to roll. The cops will be here in ten minutes.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered.

He grabbed her by the hair and yanked. “You and me, babe. We’re in this now, together.”

“I told you I didn’t want to be part of the drug business. You can do whatever you want, but when I moved in with you, I said?—”

“Shut up.” He gave her a good shove.

She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the dead body. Bile smacked the back of her throat like a rocket launch. She’d do this one last thing, and then she’d run. She had no idea where she’d go, but she was done. Tony wasn’t the man she thought he was and she sure as shit wasn’t cut out for this kind of life. She hadn’t endured years of suffering to end up in a cell.

Turning on her heel, she raced off toward the kitchen and dumped the cocaine into the duffel bag and quickly followed Tony out of the apartment.

“Get in the car,” Tony commanded.

She sank into the front seat. Tears burned the corners of her eyes. But she wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not in front of him.

Sirens blared. Two cop cars came charging out of nowhere from the other direction. This was it. She was going to be arrested as an accomplice to murder.

During her short life, she’d learned to distrust cops and most authority figures. They never did what they said they were going to do. She’d been pushed around from one foster family to the next since she’d been eleven.

That was after two cops came into her home and took her away.

Of course, she’d been living alone for six weeks.

Even she knew that was wrong, but she still resented the way the police had gone about yanking her from the only home she’d ever known.

She glanced over her shoulder as the police cars sped by, completely ignoring them.

Tony smiled. “All part of the plan.”

“Why are we going home? Why aren’t you going to Tom’s?” She shifted her gaze.

“Mind your own business.”

This wasn’t good. She’d been sitting right next to Tony when the call came in.

Go get my product, my money, and bring it to me.

Was Tony going to really double-cross Tom? Not a good idea.

“When you kill a man in front of me and expect me to go along, it is my business. Now tell me what you plan on doing?”

“It’s pretty simple.” Tony snagged his phone and tapped the screen. It rang twice.

“Tony, man. What’s the good news,” Tom’s voice bellowed through the vehicle.

“Shit, dude. You’re not going to like this one bit. But I just circled Ollie’s building and had to bug out. The cops are there. I don’t know why, but it’s not looking good.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Tony. I’m not in the mood.”

“Dude, I’m not,” Tony said. “I’ll go back in an hour when things calm down.”

“You better. And you better keep me posted. I’m sick of that little shit stealing from me. Deal with this, or I’m dealing with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

The line went dead.

Tony was going to be dead too, if he wasn’t careful.

She had no intentions of letting that be her fate.

As soon as Tony pulled into the parking lot of their shitty-ass apartment where the halls had a constant stench of weed, she snagged the bag of cocaine and hauled ass inside.

Tony cracked open a beer, opened a bottle of pills, and washed them down with a big gulp.

“Want one, babe?” he asked.

“You know I don’t do that shit.” She’d tried it once and she fucking hated it.

“You should take one. Or two. It will help calm you down.” He took his beer and flopped on the pullout sofa, which was also their bed. He flicked on the television. Something he stole and he was so freaking proud of that. “Holy shit.” He leaned forward, pointing frantically. “They’re already reporting on Ollie.”

“A man was shot and killed today in the building behind me. Police have not made any statements yet. However, we do know that the victim has an extensive record. He served time for drug trafficking and was released from prison two years ago. We’ll report back more at six.”

“That’s fucking perfect,” Tony said. “Do you have any idea how much money is in that bag over there?”

“I don’t.”

“Fifty grand. In unmarked bills.” He smiled. “And the coke? That’s worth a lot. I cut it right, we can make a killing and Tom will think one of his enemies killed Ollie for it. We’re set.” He leaned back again, tucking a hand inside his pants.

Tom wasn’t the kind of man you crossed and she wasn’t going to be around when Tony figured that out.

“I need a shower.” She palmed her cheek. It still throbbed.

“When you’re done, make me a sandwich.”

“Sure.” She grabbed a change of clothes and padded to the small bathroom that looked as though it had never been cleaned. She turned the water on as hot as it would go and stripped.

Standing under the lukewarm water, she let the tears flow. She and Tony had such big plans. They were going to prove their foster parents wrong. That Tony wasn’t a bad kid. He wasn’t going to wind up a loser. He was going to clean up. He promised to quit smoking pot. He was going to go to college. Get a job.

And so was she.

They were going to have a sweet life together.

But one month out of foster care, Tony was running drugs.

He said it was temporary, just to get them some quick cash so they could follow their dreams. He wasn’t making enough at the auto repair shop and her job as a waitress wasn’t bringing in much either.

Once again, she believed him because she thought she loved him.

But this wasn’t love.

And nothing had changed.

He was the same idiot she’d met two years ago when he landed in foster care. His sob story about his life, though real, was the crutch he used to stay the same.

Quickly, she dried off with the stained towel that smelled like mildew. Her clothes came from the Goodwill store down the street. She hiked her oversized jeans up and pulled her shirt over her head.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Tony was sound asleep on the sofa.

Thank God.

It was now or never.

Quietly, she snagged the bag of cash, her purse with her phone in it, and slipped out the door. As soon as she got to the corner, she got out her cell and called 9-1-1.

“What is your emergency?”

“I know someone who has a big bag of cocaine in his apartment. The address is 80 E 113 Street in the Watts neighborhood. I believe he’s armed.”

“What’s your name, ma’am. Are you there? And are you safe?”

“I’m not there, and yes. I’m safe. But hurry. Please. I think he might have had something to do with the murder of that man earlier today in Hollywood.” Rumor ended the call. She turned off her cell, dropped it to the pavement, and crushed it with her cowboy boots. Bending over, she lifted the busted electronic equipment and tossed it in the trash.

Hoisting the heavy bag of cash over her shoulder, she walked as quickly as she could—without drawing attention to herself—toward the bus stop. She ducked into a convenience store for a soda and some change. She didn’t want any paper trail.

She had no idea where she’d go. Alaska? Montana? Maybe Utah? Some place where it snowed. She hated cold weather and Tony would never look for her in one of those places.

She would leave California, and she’d never come back. Ever.

Sitting on the park bench, two police cars rolled by.

She clutched the bag.

The cops kept going.

Hopefully, to go arrest Tony.

The bus came a few minutes later. She climbed aboard, dropping her coins, and asked the driver for a transfer. It would take a good hour and a half to two hours to get to the Greyhound station. The only decision then would be what ticket she would buy.

She didn’t care.

First one out of town that got her the farthest distance.

Time to really start her life over.