Chapter 15 #3
“Pavel knew things about Aspen he shouldn’t have known.
” Polina is pouring sweat now, staring at my knife with crossed eyes.
“And Chet was willing to pay well for stupid shit about him. Schedules. Emails. Overheard phone calls. Aspen and I were going to run away together with that money.” Her eyes fill with self-pitying tears.
“Aspen can’t be yours now. He’s always been mine. He loves me.”
Sigh. It’s like looking at a reincarnation of Lemon.
I squat down in front of her, still holding onto the knife.
“Pavel is dead, Polina. What did he know about Aspen that could’ve gotten him killed? Is that what this is about?”
“I have no fucking clue!” she screams, lifting her wild eyes to mine. Her entire body is shaking. “All I did was trade gossip for good money. A smart business decision. That’s it. Why are you acting like I killed him myself? I had nothing to do with that.”
“You thought Chet wanted to know family secrets for a benign side project? You’re a mob princess.
Don’t lie to me.” I touch the edge of the blade to Polina’s leg, giving her a metallic stroke with the flat part as a warning.
“You continued to feed Chet information, even after Pavel went missing. You weren’t exactly heartbroken over the incident. ”
If Alexei had been killed and the family had believed the setup, Polina never would’ve had to worry about getting caught. It was a pretty solid business deal. Earn some big bucks outside the family. Skip into the sunset with Aspen. She was lured in by the sweet venom of freedom, greed, and romance.
My favorite toxin. Risky, though. I’ve been sipping small bits here and there, just to build up an immunity.
“Shame that Pavel’s son managed to live when he was supposed to die, hmm?
” I play with the wedding ring on my finger and Polina notices, going pale.
I nod to Nish and Basti and they let her go.
She scoots away from me, pressing herself against the legs of my girls on the opposite side of the circle.
“Unfortunately, you couldn’t have predicted my involvement. You picked the wrong side, honey.”
“I’ll give the money back, okay?” Polina whimpers, hiccuping, like she thinks today was the final boss. Bad stuff happened, but it’s over now. I choked her a little bit and that’s that. “If you take me down, Aspen dies with me. He’s fucked. I’ll make sure of that.”
“I regret to inform you that Aspen Kelly is dead,” I say, glancing briefly at Bastian as I stand up.
He pities this girl. I knew he would. She might be Oak Valley, but she fell into the Prescott trap.
Believed the wrong man. I’m getting tired of this pattern.
“The guy that’s still alive is his identical twin, Ash.
He doesn’t even know who you are, and he had absolutely nothing to do with ratting out the family.
Don’t make baseless accusations, Polina. ”
“His twin?” she repeats with a scoffing laugh.
“How convenient. Switch his identity around whenever you need a scapegoat.” She shoves up to her feet, glaring at me from narrowed blue eyes.
“I’m going to tell my father that you were here today, that you harassed me.
” Polina lifts her chin, nice and proud and stupid.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. As of now, he isn’t slated to take the fall with you.
If you rile him up, that might change.” I twirl the switchblade in my fingers.
It’s interesting how much you can get out of someone with simple conversation.
I haven’t had to cut a single finger off to get her to tell me what I need to know.
“Just to clarify: you gave information to both Chet and Aspen. One for money and the latter because you fell in love.”
“I don’t date faggots.” Polina shoulder-checks one of my girls on her way out of the circle, and I wave my hand, commanding the others to let her go. This bitch is doing her best to make me want her dead. Good lord.
“What she means to say is faggots would never date me,” Bastian whispers with a laugh. He, too, is feeling less guilty by the second.
“Her heart is broken, and she’s dumber than a box o’ rocks.” Nisha runs a hand over her fresh hair, courtesy of Jack the Fuckboy. “You still think she’s useful?”
We all watch as Polina fights the chain on the front doors and fails spectacularly. She’s not going anywhere unless we let her out.
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh, studying the rich girl across the room with raw pity. “She’s useful. Oh, Ash, baby.”
He rises to his feet from behind the front counter, reminding me in all the best ways of Bohnes. Wearing a black baseball cap, a sword, and that demon tongue face mask, he looks as unsavory and dangerous as he is. Polina’s skin goes full goose bumps when she spots him.
I smile.
“Doushita no?” he asks, cocking his head to the side in a way that encourages Polina to keep her mouth shut. Can she finally tell that this guy isn’t the love of her life? It’s so obvious to me with the way he stares, like I’m a bright flame in a very dark world.
“You and Polina are going to film a little video for me.” I slap the flat side of my knife against my palm to draw Polina’s attention.
She looks at me with undisguised hatred.
Again, good instinct on her part. She is a mob brat after all.
“If you want to live, you’ll play a little game at the reception tonight.
That’s it. I won’t tell Uncle Burt about any of this. ”
Polina shudders at the sound of Burt’s name, lifting her chin and flicking her blond hair over her shoulder.
“What do I have to do?”
I stop smiling when I look at her, squatting down and using my knife to pick up a bright red thong from the floor. And I’ll take that one. Into my pocket it goes. Bohnes doesn’t need to pay two hundred bucks for a scrap of fabric that doesn’t even cover the cheeks.
“Whatever the fuck I tell you,” I reply.
And that’s that.
The idea for my wedding dress comes on a whim.
After we leave the first store, abandoning Polina when we’re done with her, we continue down the sidewalk and I pass the window of a fabric shop. There’s a bolt of absurdly expensive red lace. Handmade in France or some shit like that.
I send one of my girls into the shop to buy the entire bolt.
Now I just need a hat.
“What, uh, color are you thinking of for your wedding dress?” Bastian asks, unable to hold back his laughter.
“Not white, surely. Only I’m eligible for white now.
” He folds his arms, looking smug. It’s cold enough out here that we can see our breath.
Still pretty busy down here though, lots of holiday shoppers on the icy sidewalks.
We’re getting a lot of stares. Won’t lie.
“You sure do know how to spend a man’s money.” Bohnes appears out of nowhere on my right side, causing Bastian to jump and let out a little scream. I grin. Bohnes is looking at his phone screen, presumably checking the lace transaction. I don’t even want to know the amount. It doesn’t matter.
“What’s the lace for?” Nisha asks, and I grin, using my phone to get directions to a vintage clothing place down the block.
“Veil.” I gesture behind me. “As long as that bolt is, that’s how long I want it. Instead of a train, it’s the lace hanging off the back of my hat, all the way to the ground and then some. Does that sound dramatic enough? Should I make it weirder?”
“You have a beautiful mind, Scarlett,” Nisha agrees, glancing at Bohnes in annoyance. “And you, why’d you stop creeping? What do you want? We’re in the middle of a girls’ day here.”
“There was someone creeping where I was creeping.” Bohnes’ eyes flick up to the second floor of the building on our left. He watches it for a minute and then turns his attention back to the sidewalk. “They’re efficient.”
Those last two words are so pouty that I’m surprised they came out of Bohnes’ mouth.
“Giving a frog stuffie to Ash was super cute, Kellin. You’re kind of nice, too.” I shrug my shoulders as Bohnes narrows his eyes on me.
“Still stings, does it? Well. I won’t ever call you nice again. There’s no need to make up lies about me.” He looks back at the second floor windows again. Nods. Slips into an alleyway on my left.
“What are they up to?” Bastian whispers, but I only shake my head.
The boys are in charge of security, and we’re in charge of shopping.
These outfits are vital to our success. In rich people chess, clothing matters.
I cannot go to the family’s church as anything less than a total baddie.
If I don’t wear the right dress, we could end up dead.
Our survival depends on Burt’s assessment of our skills.
If we are a part of the family, we must represent the family.
“Let them do what they do best,” I say, pausing on the quiet street corner with the nice old-fashioned lamps that still have the glass in them.
In Prescott, there’d be broken glass on the ground.
Or just no streetlight at all. “Lemon didn’t take us dress shopping, so… let’s have a little fun with mine.”
We cross the street after checking very carefully for cars (having some rogue driver hit me would be a quick way to end this).
Inside the vintage shop, I’m greeted by all four boys.
They force their way into the back door without being noticed by the employees up front.
Together, they find me half-naked in a changing room with a velvet chaise and leopard print wallpaper.
All four of them are spattered with blood.
Not a lot. Just enough to tease my nostrils with a metallic flash.
“That was a very expensive assassin.” Bohnes frowns at a few red dots on his white sweatshirt. He reaches up to rub a finger against one of the spots and Alexei swats his hand with a glove. Bohnes turns his head curiously in his client’s direction.