twelve Warren
twelve
Warren
“What happened to you?” Lily asks, as she walks into the office.
I’m drying my hair, but my clothes are still soaked and sticking to my body. Anger boils inside of me from my interaction with Selena earlier.
“Nothing,” I grumble.
Damon and Xavier walk into the room, and they stop when they see me.
“Did you do a job for Dad without us knowing?” Xavier questions me, a hard glare in his eyes.
“No, I had to talk to someone. It’s raining.” I throw the towel down and move to my closet.
“No shit, Sherlock. We know it’s raining, but why are you soaking wet?” Damon asks.
Lily smacks his arm, but they all sit down. I rip off my wet shirt and replace it with a dry one. I pull my jeans down, and all three of them yell at me for not moving into a private space. I don’t give a fuck if they care or not.
Once I’m in dry clothes, I move to my office chair. They all stare back at me.
“I went to talk to the woman who wrote that blog about us. I got her information from our PI.” I huff and run my hand through my still-wet hair.
“Warren, that was stupid,” Damon shouts.
“Does she know who you are?” Xavier demands.
“Hey, calm down, everyone,” Lily orders.
The tension is thick, and I’m about to burst. I love my brothers, but I’m not in the mood to be yelled at by them right now.
“Yeah, I’m a fucking moron,” I say sarcastically. “I walked up to her, gave her my full name, and told her how we are in the mafia.” I shake my head angrily.
Damon stands up, and Lily grabs his arm. “Warren, you need to fix this. What if she goes to the cops? What did you do?”
Xavier flinches and shakes his head. “Do we need to fix this?”
They are asking if we need to get rid of her. To kill her.
For some reason, that bothers me. Sure, she’s annoying and pissing me off, but she’s also gorgeous, and her determination turns me on.
I’ve never met a woman who has challenged me like this before.
I can tell she’s afraid of me, but more than anything, she’s intrigued by me, too.
She wants to know about us, and as bad as that seems, it also makes me wonder if I could ever have love like Damon found.
Lily knows what we do. She knows the monster she’s getting married to, but she’s still in love with Damon. If they can make it work, couldn’t I?
“Damon, not everyone is out to get you all. Remember, you trusted me. Maybe Warren can trust this woman,” Lily offers.
I smile her way. “Guys, I wore my mask. She doesn’t know what we do.
That’s why she’s writing the story. I told her to drop the story.
She’s not going to be a problem, but if she is, you all let me handle it.
I don’t want anyone to touch her.” My voice is filled with venom as I stare back at my brothers.
Damon narrows his eyes at me. “Do you like this woman?”
“I don’t even know her,” I argue.
“We can’t risk anything,” Xavier reminds me.
I nod. “I know that. I’m not as reckless as you all think I am,” I shout.
“No one thinks that, Warren,” Lily chimes in.
“Yeah, we do,” Damon grumbles.
“Look, I’m going to handle this. Everyone else just back off,” I roar out.
The guys try to argue, but I just stop them.
All at once, our phones chime, and suddenly, our argument is long forgotten. We all know what this means.
Dad needs us.
“Why the fuck do we still do this?” Damon asks, as he pulls up to the docks.
Two hours ago, we got a text from our dad, asking us to pick up a last-minute shipment from his new customer. He had an uneasy feeling about it and wanted us to check it out first.
“Why can’t he do this himself? He said it was a small shipment,” Xavier states, as Damon parks his bike.
“Dad hates to get his own hands dirty,” I remind them.
We all park our bikes and walk along the shadows of the docks to where Dad instructed us to go. I’ve got a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I can’t figure out why. I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. We’ve hurt people. Buried people. Stole from people.
But tonight, something just feels off.
“This is the last deal we do,” I state with finality.
The guys nod in agreement.
We spotted Dock 12, where Dad told us a shipment should be waiting.
All of the workers are long gone, so no one else is here.
There’s a large shipping container on the dock, and we all give each other puzzled looks.
Dad said this was going to be a small shipment, but that’s a fucking huge container.
We slowly approach the area. Damon is wearing night goggles, and Xavier and I have our guns in our hands, ready if needed.
“Something feels off,” Damon whispers, as he looks around.
“Do you see anything?” Xavier asks, his voice low.
“No,” I respond, and Damon shakes his head, no.
The air is thick and humid from the rain earlier, and as we walk, we make noise as our feet splash through puddles on the pavement. It’s hard to be quiet tonight, and that only intensifies the anxiety growing inside of me.
Normally, I don’t mind doing something dangerous. When I was a teenager, I used to live for shit like this. It made me feel like a man, like I was powerful, when Dad would ask me to come along and help my brothers. But tonight, I feel like anything but powerful.
We stop when we reach the container. I typed in the code for the lock that Dad had given us. When I slide open the door, I almost gag from the heinous odor permeating the air.
“Oh shit,” Xavier gags.
Damon turns and almost vomits, but I step inside.
“Fuck, it’s a dead body,” I say.
Stumbling backward, I stare at what appears to be a man in his late fifties.
He’s tied to a chair, the side of his face bruised and bloody with a single gunshot to the temple.
Bugs crawl over his body, and it’s clear he’s been in this container for days.
His head hangs down, so I can’t see his face clearly, but we are certain he’s dead.
“We need to get out of here,” Damon orders. “This isn’t right.”
“I think Dad is being set up,” Xavier agrees.
I slam down the door, and we all take off running toward the lot where our bikes are hidden. As we turn the corner to where the lot is, sirens wail in the distance.
“Fuck, the cops are coming,” I shout.
We race forward and hop on our bikes. A police car speeds toward the docks, and we all start our bikes, keeping the lights off.
“Everyone goes in different directions. Don’t go to your homes for at least an hour. Burn your clothes, shoes, and gloves,” Xavier yells out.
I kick my stand and rev my engine. Two more police cars emerge, and one passes me before it realizes that I’m there. One police car turns and begins heading our way. The other two continue toward the docks.
We all drive off, me going straight, Damon taking a left, and Xavier turning and making a sharp right.
Our bikes are too fast for the police car to follow, so after a few minutes, I turn and notice I’m alone on the roadway. I let out a heavy breath and pedal faster until I reach the beach.
Parking, I hop off my bike and walk toward the sand. The ocean at night is eerie, but nothing matches the insanity and foreboding feeling I had tonight when I found that dead man. Someone is clearly after us and has us set up.
I punch in my dad’s number and fall onto the cold, wet sand. I stare out into oblivion, and when my dad answers, I feel my body shake. “Tonight was a setup. Dead body. Destroy all contact with your client.”
“I just spoke to Damon, already on it. Lay low for a few days,” Dad says, and then ends the call.
I grip my phone in my hand as I listen to the waves crash along the shoreline. I wonder if all families are as fucked up as mine, or if we are just special?