5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Sylvie
I wanted to kill Drakos Creed. Silently fuming, I splinted the severed arm back to the corpse lying on the gurney in front of me. That asshole knew I wouldn’t want Luna anywhere near his businesses or his law firm, but I couldn’t exactly tell Luna that I’d met Drakos at Titties one night, or that we’d then killed and buried two MC gang members together.
Luna recently found out that her legal internship had been switched at the last minute to Drakos’s law partner, Roman Fowler. And Roman, being the arrogant asshole he was, wouldn’t release her. Luna was angry and annoyed, but the whole situation worried me. Men like Drakos and Roman didn’t act without a motive, and I couldn’t figure out what Roman Fowler’s agenda was, which left me anxious and unsettled.
The corpse I worked on was a middle-aged man who’d died in a single-vehicle, drunk-driving accident. The coroner mentioned his alcohol level had been well over twice the legal limit, but at least he hadn’t killed anyone else. Unfortunately, his wife insisted on having a viewing.
Why these people thought I was some magician or miracle worker who could piece these bodies back together like a damn jigsaw puzzle was beyond me. Sometimes, death was violent and messy, and cremation or a closed-casket funeral were better choices.
After splinting and stitching the man’s arm back on, I worked on his skull next. Sticking my trocar up his nasal cavity, I sucked out his brain matter, blood, and general gore, then carefully sliced back a portion of his scalp and filled in the obvious dent there with dermal filler. After gluing his scalp back on, I embalmed the rest of his body.
Luna knocked on the door as I stepped back to survey my work. “Is he the one who died in the car wreck?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen worse. I’m done embalming and washing him, but come look at his head and tell me if you see any obvious signs of trauma.”
She leaned over the body, scanning the face and head. “It looks good, Dr. Frankenstein.”
“You’re hilarious. Will you open the fridge?” I stowed the body in the large walk-in refrigerator, and we cleaned up and headed to the mortuary kitchen to make coffee.
As we entered the public area, I stopped short when I saw two men in biker vests walk in. Adrenaline hit my system, and I worried about Trina coming in early and seeing them here. She wouldn’t come in to clean for a couple of hours, but I wanted them gone before then.
“I need to talk with these gentlemen. Will you make coffee?” I didn’t want Luna anywhere near them.
She studied the men. “Who are they, and why are they here?” Luna’s inquisitive nature drove her to ask countless questions, and she wouldn’t rest until I could convince her I was safe.
“We’re expecting them,” I lied. “They’re here to plan a funeral.” I recognized their OutKast cuts, and my heart thudded heavily in my chest. Did they find out about Samuel?
Luna glanced at them again. “You have your phone on you?”
“Yes.”
She nodded and took off to make coffee, and I walked down the hall to greet the two bikers. “Good morning. What can I do for you?”
The younger one with ugly neck tattoos—including a swastika—grinned and scanned me up and down. “Hello, sugar. Where’s the boss man?”
I kept my face neutral. “Do you have an appointment? We only meet clients through scheduled appointments.”
The younger man’s ugly smile dimmed, and his eyes narrowed. “We don’t need an appointment. Where the fuck’s your boss?”
My eyes slid from him to the large, older man. He had a shaved head and a scar running through his lip. His eyes were cold and flat. I glanced at his vest and recognized his patch, identifying him as one of the vice presidents of OutKast—and the father of the man I’d killed and buried in the desert. Samuel’s father, Terrance LeBaron, was here at the mortuary.
I kept my face neutral, but fear shot through me. “You’ll need to call back and make an appointment.”
Terrance studied me, but not with the same open disdain as the younger biker. “What’s your name?”
“Sylvie Spade. And yours?”
“I think you know.”
I inclined my head. The man’s son was missing, and I wasn’t surprised he’d come here to ask questions. “Terrance LeBaron. Father to the animal who raped and brutalized a young girl not yet old enough to drive. Why are you here?”
His swastika friend stepped forward and pointed his finger in my face. “Listen, bitch. You don’t talk to—”
“Carver, son. Step back. ‘Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty,’” Terrance murmured absently, his cold stare still fixed on me. “You’re not afraid of us, are you?”
Declan, one of my cousins, mentioned once that Terrance LeBaron liked to spout Bible verses. “Of course I’m afraid of you, I’m not stupid. But I’m more enraged and heartsick that you’d condone something like that happening to a child.” My anger slipped its leash. “Aren’t there a few Bible quotes about raping and hurting children?”
He didn’t blink. “Where’s your grandpappy, or Fennick?”
I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Neither of them are available. You have to deal with me.”
His cold gaze scanned me. “I don’t deal with women. ‘Suffer not a woman to usurp authority over a man, but to be in silence.’”
The creepy fucker was quoting misogynistic scripture at me. “You’re an idiot if you believe that.”
Carver gritted his teeth and pointed at me. “You need a lesson in respectin’ your elders?”
“I think getting a lesson in respecting anything would be hypocritical coming from you.”
Terrance folded his arms. “You called me an idiot. I’ve killed people for less.”
“I said if you believe that, you’re an idiot. The House of Spades could have retaliated by going after your little granddaughter in Oakland or your twelve-year-old niece in Miami, but we didn’t.” I’d cyberstalked the LeBarons after what happened to Camilla.
The smirk slid off Terrance’s weathered face, and his eye ticked. “Are you threatening my family, girl?”
I kept my expression carefully neutral. “No, but I’m telling you we could have. Innocent children and families shouldn’t be targeted in business or turf wars, and Camilla is innocent. If you had requested a formal meeting, we would have accommodated you. However, showing up at our business unannounced and uninvited is disrespectful and overly aggressive.”
Terrance tilted his head. “How is it you know so much about territory and turf wars, girl?”
“My family recognizes that women have brains too, and I have a voice in what occurs.”
Terrance looked around the quiet mortuary. “Alright, if you have a brain and a say, then you should be able to help me. My boy went missin’ not long after a hook-up with your girl, and another MC brother disappeared around the same time. Do you or your family know anything about it?”
My boiling temper finally exploded. “ Hook up ? Is that what you’re calling it? That girl’s name is Camilla, and your ‘boy’ is a thirty-something-year-old child rapist. So even if I knew where your pedophile rapist son is, I wouldn’t help you. Your gang is a blight on society. You peddle hardcore drugs and prostitution, and you hurt innocent children. I bet most of you have more sexually transmitted diseases than brain cells.” My temper hadn’t just slipped its leash, it had grown two heads and torn the roof off.
Terrance’s face went red with anger, and he didn’t hold Carver back this time when he came after me. My cousins taught us how to defend ourselves, but there were two of them, and I didn’t have any weapons. Carver tried to grab my arm, so I twisted and backed away.
He scoffed. “Take your beating like a good little bitch and I may not kill you.” Carver lunged again, and I gave him a swift kick to the crotch. He raised his thigh at the last millisecond, so it wasn’t a direct hit, but he grunted in pain and backed up a little. Then he rushed me hard. I went low and to the side, tripping him as he barreled past and hit the wall behind me. But now they were on both sides, and I had nowhere to go.
“Enough,” Terrance growled. He reached out to grab my shoulder as Carver shoved me into the older man’s chest. Carver sent us all sprawling, and somehow I ended up on the bottom. The air expelled from my lungs, and I gasped. Then I caught a whiff of unwashed bodies.
“Oh, my God,” I wheezed as I struggled to get out from under them. “You smell like rancid meat. Do humankind a favor and shower once in a while.”
Terrance rolled off me as Carver roared in rage, grabbing me by the hair and pulling me to my feet. “Boss, I’m gonna kill this mouthy bitch.” When I tried to twist away, Carver dragged me to him and wrapped his arm around my neck.
The older man glared at me as he slowly got to his feet. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth and quit provoking him.”
Keeping my voice calm, I stared back at him. “You showed up at our business and accosted me after your son raped and assaulted a minor. Who’s doing the provoking here? If you know Fennick, you know how he’s going to react to this.”
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!” Carver screamed, spittle flying from his mouth as he tightened his arm around my neck. He cocked his fist back and punched my cheekbone, and then my ribcage. Pain radiated through my skull and side.
I’d had enough. Sliding my hand behind me, I fumbled around and grabbed his junk, squeezing hard. Then I slammed the back of my head into his face. Carver howled and feebly punched me again before folding over on himself. I stayed on my feet and ripped away from Carver’s grasp as Terrance pulled a gun and calmly aimed it at my head. Carver stooped and held his bleeding mouth with one hand and his crotch with the other.
Slowly, I lifted my hands, my heart thudding hard. “Really? You’re going to shoot me now?” I jerked my chin to the small, almost invisible camera above Ezra’s office door. “We have security cameras. If you leave now, you might skate by without Fenn and Kilian killing you, or Ezra calling the police. But if you shoot me, you and Carver here are royally fucked.”
Terrance stared up at the camera above Ezra’s door, and I helped him out by pointing to another camera above the front entrance behind him. He stepped back and put the gun away. “I didn’t come here to kill anyone or start a war. I’m just looking for my son.”
“I don’t know anything about him, but I hope he never comes back.” Lowering my hands, I turned to Carver. “A little advice, dumbass. When Fenn sees the video of you punching and manhandling me, he’s going to lose his mind. Your life is over as you know it. If I were you, I’d move far away and stay there if you don’t want to die.”
“Your family doesn’t scare me, you stupid cunt.”
I studied him dispassionately, ignoring my throbbing cheekbone. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
Terrance smiled humorlessly, the scar across his lip stretching. “You need to learn to control your temper and your tongue, Sylvie Spade. ‘A quick-tempered man acts foolishly.’”
I rolled my eyes and huffed out an annoyed breath. “Good thing I’m a woman then, and you left out the rest of the scripture. ‘A man of wicked intentions is hated.’ I’ll be sure to tell Ezra and Fenn you stopped by.”