Chapter 9
chapter
nine
Izabel
It was almost three in the afternoon when the company vehicle pulled in front of the ruins of several dilapidated houses in the Glen Ford neighborhood.
“Stick close to me,” Marcus said when I was about to open my side of the door.
He got out of the vehicle and immediately turned his attention to our surroundings.
Tractors, bulldozers, and demolition crews were already on site to clear the area where new single-family homes and an apartment building were going to be erected.
The Metro Bank and the Solace Foundation partnered on the project financing.
Stockman and Bose had offered their services—manpower and materials at a discounted rate—including the architectural design work for free. My team was spearheading this project.
“I don’t see King,” Marcus said as he slipped on his aviators.
I checked my phone and noted a missed message from him. “He’s going to be thirty minutes late. Traffic on Sixty-Four.”
“Izabel!”
Luisa, the taqueria owner, was fast approaching with excitement in her eyes. “So it’s really happening?”
Her glee was infectious and exactly what I needed on this confusing day. “Yes. It’s happening.”
She clutched her chest. “God bless you, child. From now on, you and your man will have tacos for life.”
Luisa meant Drake, but it was Marcus who gave a pained cough, thinking she was referring to him. Heart in throat, I laughed nervously.
“About operating a taco truck in front of your building,” the woman continued. “I appreciate the offer, but with my son off to college, we will be shorthanded. I’m sure me and my familia will be slinging more tacos than we can handle with construction starting.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. We discussed the influx of business to the area brought about by the development. After a few minutes, Luisa bade goodbye and walked back to her taqueria.
“It just occurred to me,” Marcus started casually. “That Mrs. Romero wasn’t referring to me.”
“She wasn’t.” I put on sunglasses before I nimbly hopped around the debris on the sidewalk.
“Are you seeing someone, Izzy?”
I was saved from answering when a bulldozer dumped debris into a pile, drowning out every other noise in our surroundings.
Instead, I made a circling motion with my forefinger, signaling to look around .
I was anxious to see the spot where we were building the children’s playground, with the added intent for Marcus to drop the question.
He came up behind me as I headed down the length of the deserted stretch of houses and was reminded of Marcus’s concerns.
Although most of the current residents gladly moved out of their homes, there were some who were resistant.
Metro Bank bought up their existing mortgages and gave them a stipend to rent an apartment while the eighteen-month development was ongoing.
It was more than a fair deal, given what they would have spent to keep their houses livable.
But, as with all negotiations, there were some who weren’t happy moving elsewhere—especially those who used the houses for drug deals.
After working on exclusive subdivisions with perfectly manicured landscaping and state-of-the-art clubhouses, I wanted a development that would give the residents a sense of home. One where the children could play, get dirty, scrape their knees, and run around with the family dog.
Economic growth was imminent in the Newport News area and I wanted the Glen Ford residents to be a part of it.
Most of the community came from Latinx or Asian backgrounds.
My own mother was a second-generation Colombian immigrant who, upon graduating from high school, worked two jobs so she could afford to go to beauty school.
I understood the value of hard work, the fear of losing a roof over my head, and going to bed hungry.
I was forever grateful to Mr. Stockman for giving me this opportunity to fulfill a childhood idealistic dream, which brought my ambivalence about Drake’s return into focus.
Would I have been so driven in the pursuit of this project if Drake hadn’t “died”?
The hours I put into chasing down every sponsor to donate to the Solace Foundation had been my coping mechanism for losing my husband and baby.
His return made me feel like a fraud. Like I just used this project as my therapy instead of genuinely caring for Luisa and the residents.
“Goddammit.” Marcus’s muttered curse yanked me out of my musings.
“What…?” My question cut off with the approach of two dangerous-looking men. I’d never seen them before, and they certainly didn’t look like they belonged in Glen Ford.
“Don’t look at them.” Marcus moved closer. The demolition activity was some distance behind us. The noise it was producing would drown out any calls of help. “Keep walking.”
Heart pounding, I did as I was told, but luck wasn’t with us. We were definitely on the newcomers’ radar.
Marcus slipped in front of me just as the strangers stopped before us.
“Whassup,” Marcus said.
The ginger-haired man’s smile was shark-like. “We need both of you to come with us. Quietly.” Though the man was dressed like a homie, his military bearing gave him away.
Marcus puffed a derisive laugh. “No can do, bro.” He cupped my bicep and backed us away. “Whoever hired you guys to intimidate the developers can go fuck themselves.”
Ginger-Hair lowered his gaze to Marcus’s side where I figured he had his hand on his gun. Ginger-Hair’s companion grew alert and moved his hand, likely to reach for his firearm.
Shit.
“There’s no need for that, Marcus,” Ginger-Hair said softly.
My friend froze.
“Who the fuck are you guys?” Marcus growled.
Ginger-Hair shrugged. “If you come with us, we can tell you. I can’t believe you’d put Drake’s wife in danger.”
Indignation dissolved my fear and fueled my bravado. “Tell my husband he can go fuck himself. Marcus and I have a job to do.”
I spun around and marched off, expecting the men to respect my wishes. I couldn’t believe this was how Drake intended to tell Marcus he was alive! Scaring us like this. What if Marcus reacted and someone got shot?
A scuffle erupted behind me, and I turned in time to see Marcus taken down by Ginger-Hair and his cohort.
“What are you guys doing?” I shrieked.
A hand clamped over my mouth, and I was yanked against a hard chest.
Marcus’s eyes widened at the man behind me before Ginger-Hair stuck a needle in his neck.
“Sorry it has to be this way, Iza,” Drake’s voice murmured in my ear before he half-lifted, half-dragged me in between two houses and bundled me into a waiting van.
Drake got in beside me. Ginger-Hair and his partner carried Marcus.
A few of Glen Ford residents watched the scene unfold, but just like they were taught to do to survive in the rough neighborhood, they turned away.
Marcus was dumped in the back of the van, and his head hit the side of the vehicle.
“Be careful!” I yelled, then spun on Drake. “Why are you doing this? Why are you treating Marcus like this? Hasn’t he been through enough?”
Drake’s eyes were cold. “He has a lot to answer for.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Can’t tell you yet.”
A derisive huff escaped my lips. “Figures.”
“But I will.”
“When? Will that be your story after another three years of pretending you’re dead?”
The van pulled away from the curb and sped off to the back streets away from the development.
“Enough!” Drake growled. “If you can’t forgive me for what I’ve done, there’s nothing else I can do.”
A feeling akin to fear and panic gripped my heart. “What do you mean?”
Drake sighed. “If you can’t trust me again, then maybe it’s best if we stay separated for a while instead of tearing each other apart like this.”
Oh! He was giving up? Didn’t I have the right to come to terms with the fact that I’d been lied to and made to suffer for three years? Tears burned the back of my eyes. A stricken look replaced the anger on Drake’s face. “Iza…”
“Maybe it’s for the best.” My chin tipped up, feeling stubborn, holding on to my indignation, my fury. How dare he ? “Better yet, don’t change your name back to Drake Maddox and we won’t have to separate or divorce or anything. Let the dead stay buried.”
I couldn’t stand the sight of him and looked out the window. The awkward silence in the van made me aware that in my anger, I’d forgotten we had an audience. Drake remained quiet beside me except for the rustle of his clothes as he moved.
My phone vibrated with a text from Mr. King. I gripped my phone, undecided on how to reply, and my sheer inability to do so only frayed my high-strung nerves.
I’d been building a life without him, but Drake and his secrets were ruining it.
Drake
Izabel fumed beside me.
I was pissed at myself for losing patience with my wife, but Marcus’s betrayal hit me hard. And now words were spoken between us that could never be unsaid.
Let the dead stay buried.
Five words. Five words that hollowed my chest and shredded my heart. Maybe Viktor was right, and we needed a mediator because I sure as hell was digging myself into a deeper hole. I knew fuck all how to reach her.
“I had a very important meeting with the foundation manager,” Izabel spoke tightly. She was not looking at me, but out the window. “You and your friends better have a good excuse to give my office.”
“We’ll have Tim leave an anonymous tip that you and Harrelson were abducted,” Brick said. “Your company vehicle is still at the site. I’m Brick, by the way.” He thumbed at our driver. “He’s Edmunds.”
Izabel was shaking her head. “This was Marcus’s last chance to prove himself.” Sadness tinged her voice. I wanted to grab her and roar that he was a traitor who never deserved to live. “You’ve ruined that for him, too. Has he not suffered enough?”
Not even close.
“There’s a good reason we took Harrelson,” Brick said.
“More than a few saw you guys haul us away.”
“We’re taking care of that,” Edmunds piped in for the first time.
“What does that mean?” Izabel asked incredulously.
Viktor had someone pay them off. But no one was volunteering to enlighten her.
Izabel’s phone kept on pinging with text messages.
“Better turn that off, sweet cheeks,” Brick said.
“Don’t call her that,” I growled.
He chuckled. “Sorry, chief.”
“Where are you taking us?” she asked as our vehicle entered the interstate.
Edmunds’ eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.
“Got it,” I muttered, hating to have to do this part because it was gonna be another reason for her to hate me.
Izabel turned away from the scenery. Wariness stole over her face as her eyes pinged between me and the guys. One thing was certain; she still could sense my change in tone when something was wrong. “Got what?”
“I have to do this, baby.” Her beautiful eyes widened in surprise before I threw the hood over her.