Chapter Two
I watch the sunrise as I pick the pieces of glass from my feet and empty my purse contents onto the rooftop.
With a sigh, I look through the mess and slip my underwear back on, then begin strapping the sleek holster that usually holds my gun onto my thigh. I didn’t want Leo to find my hidden weapon, so I chose to go without it tonight. But I think that it may be worth the risk to have it in the future.
I slip the gun into place and use the knife to cut a strip of fabric from the bed sheet, making a makeshift bandage for my arm. Using the other section of the sheet to staunch the bleeding, I double- check to make sure I don’t need stitches and then tie the sheet slip around my arm. The gash looks deep, but I’ll do a more thorough inspection later.
I glance over the papers I grabbed from Leo’s desk, but nothing makes sense—just a few names, locations, and times. I gather all my things back into my purse, leaving the bullet casing and the piece of carpet that contains my DNA on the bloody sheet. I tie the ends of the sheet into a knot and lean back against the metal cooling vent.
I breathe in the morning air and let out a sigh as my heartbeat starts to slow and the adrenaline begins to wear off.
After a few minutes, I pull the key off from around my neck and unlock the briefcase; seeing folders with more names and locations and noticing the five stacks of hundreds banded together. I pull one out and run my thumb across the money. Each stack has more than five grand .
There is a small black bag in the top right corner of the briefcase. Grabbing it, I dump the contents into the palm of my hand. There are about ten diamonds, all of which appear to be nearly 3.00ct.
Placing them back in the bag, I hang it into its spot and close the briefcase. As my hands move away from the briefcase, I see that they are still covered in blood. A heavy sigh heaves from my chest as feelings of regret wash over me.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” I whisper to myself as I lean back against the metal box and look up at the sky. It’s turned a light orange color, and I can’t help but smile.
The sunrise takes me back to the days when my mother and I would sit on the patio, me with a hot cocoa and her with a hot coffee. We would talk for hours about nothing as the sun rose. It was the only time we could feel at peace.
I slip on the tank top and shorts over my dress, rip off the wig, and let my hair out of its bun. I run my hands through my hair, releasing the built-up tension around my scalp.
My dirty blonde hair falls to my mid-back, but the strands fly everywhere as the wind picks up. I stand and try to fix the dress because it’s now bunched up at my hips, tucking it back into my shorts and trying to hide it as best as I can. As uncomfortable as it is, this is my only way to walk out of here unrecognized.
I walk over to the edge of the building and look down, finding a fire escape a few floors down, but that is still one hell of a fall. I shift my gaze to the dumpster next to the bottom of the ladder. I put the wig in the sheet and tie it with everything else inside to make a makeshift bag.
I toss everything over the edge and watch as it hits the trash, which is almost overflowing. I put my heels back on and look at my slim silver watch, which reads six-fifteen .
I slowly descend three flights of stairs, tiptoeing, and looking for any sign of the driver. I hear a door on the floor above me open, and a female’s voice echoes through the stairwell. Quickly exiting the stairway and heading towards the elevator, I press the call button when I hear the women exit.
“I can’t believe he’s dead. Ryker is going to be pissed,” one woman says as the door shuts behind them.
“Yeah, do they know who killed him?” The other asks.
“Some woman. Conner said the scene was professional, definitely wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment kill,” The first one laughs, “If you ask me, he deserved it.”
I try to stay calm, but I can feel my heart picking up pace again. How do they know Leo? Why are they here? Who is Ryker? Why does that name seem so familiar?
Inhaling sharply, I try to take a few deep breaths. Trying to calm the panic that has taken over once again. They might be involved somehow, but they don’t know what I look like.
The elevator doors open, and I quickly step in, pressing the button for the lobby. I can feel both women's gaze on me. I turn my head and look at them.
The first girl I notice is short, has brown hair pulled into a ponytail and has captivating brown eyes. She is tan, as if she just came from a holiday. I shift my gaze to the taller one. She is blonde, has blue eyes, and is about my height. Her hair is shoulder length, she’s a bit curvier than me, and she wears it well. I give them a shy smile and focus back on the doors.
“Are you okay?” the blonde asks. I turn my head and give her a puzzled look even though I already know what she’s asking about. She responds by pointing at her arm.
“Ah.” I laugh, “Yeah.” I turn my attention back to the front of the elevator. Please, for the love of God, hurry. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the brown-haired girl take a few steps away from me. “I fell on the dresser. It hurt pretty badly, but it was not bad enough to need stitches, so I’m going to the front desk for a bandage. Who can afford healthcare these days?” I laugh half-heartedly and shift on my feet, trying to ease the pain. I think I missed a few pieces of glass.
I wince and let my hair fall over my face so they can’t get a good look at me. When I look back over, they share a look that says, “You don’t believe her either, right?” I adjust my grip on the handle of the briefcase when the brown-haired girl starts to talk.
“And… the briefcase?”
I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, the doors open, and I use that to cut the conversation short. I head straight towards the side door, feeling their gazes the entire way.
When I clear the door, I sprint for the dumpster to grab the makeshift bag, then bolt for the busy street. Glancing around, the only thing I can think of is to seek refuge across the street at the only open store. The woman at the front desk looks horrified when I enter. I give her a slight smile as I approach the counter. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but do you have a first aid kit?” She looks at my arm and then flicks her gaze back up to meet my eyes.
“Sure,” she nods and reaches under the counter, pulling out the kit. “Why don’t you sit over here, and I’ll patch you up?” I cross the counter and sit down on a stool she pulled out for me. “Everything okay? Do you need me to call someone?” she asks as she opens the kit and pulls out a bandage I already know is too small.
I give her an exaggerated sigh. “I guess so, and no. I’m okay.” I untie the sheet around my arm, and her eyes widen. She swallows, then she reaches for the alcohol and the gauze.
“If you don’t mind… Can I ask what happened? ”
“My boyfriend got released from prison today. I turned him in, so he came after me. I was only able to grab a few things and escape,” I gestured to the makeshift bag. “But I think he was following me, so I slipped into the nearest store.” I feel bad for lying, but what else am I going to say? Oh, you know that murdered guy across the street? Yeah, I killed him.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” I wince as she cleans the wound. She then searches through the bandages, not finding any that fit. She grabs more gauze and holds it over the wound as she wraps it into place. When she’s finished wrapping it, she gives a small sigh. “Do you think he’s still out there?” I give her a defeated nod, then she stands and walks to the door. “Is he a black male in a suit?”
“Yeah,” I scoop up the gauze she used to clean my wound, just in case. I know, paranoia. Better safe than sorry. I shove them into my back pocket as the lady starts talking.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this… he’s with two other men.”
I shoot my head up. “What?” I stand, walk over to the door, and peer out; I see the driver talking to a shorter white male in a t-shirt and shorts and another taller, dark-haired man in a suit. Their faces are obscured, but I can tell from their posture that this isn’t good. Leo did say the men he was working for were brutal.
Even though he is a boss, he is lacking the kind of power that puts him on top. Leo being a boss doesn’t scare me but knowing there is someone who is higher up than him, more powerful, that would want me dead… that scares the shit out of me.
“Who are they?” She turns to look at me as I duck to avoid the driver’s gaze when he turns and looks at the store.
“His friends,” I stay crouched as I walk back over to my stuff and look around the store for another way out .
“Do you have a back exit?” She nods and then leads me through a set of double doors into a storage room full of unopened boxes. We hear a ding as we weave through the boxes, and I freeze.
“It’s okay,” She gently touches my back. “I’ll see what they want. You can leave that way.” She points past a few other stacks of boxes towards the exit sign.
“Thank you,” I give her a sad smile as I walk briskly towards the door, but then I stop in my tracks. If they work with or for Leo, they won’t have an issue getting information from the poor lady by any means necessary. I walk back to the double doors just in case they want to try something.
“How can I help you, gentleman?” She asks in a chipper tone. “Have you seen an injured woman pass through here in the past
hour?” A man with a deep, sultry voice asks.
“No sir… everything okay?”
“I’m going to have a look around.”
“Sure, but nobody entered the store all morning. I just opened.”
The man doesn’t respond for a long moment. “May I check the back?”
“Are you cops?” I don’t hear the man answer, but then the woman agrees for him to search the back, so I pick up the items I need to get rid of and sprint for the back door. Cops, my ass.
After running five blocks and two train rides later, I finally make it to the dusty motel I’ve been staying at for the past few months. It might be a complete shit show, but it’s one of the better motels I’ve stayed at in a while. The TV works, the bed is semi-comfortable, there is a working shower, little to no cockroaches, and the stale smell has become very faint over the past couple of weeks .
I unlock the creaky door and slip inside, looking over my shoulder again, making sure I don’t see anyone who could have followed me. I head over to the dresser, setting the red wig next to the TV and the empty bags of chips I ate the night before. I jiggle the dresser’s bottom drawer, and when it doesn't budge, I yank on it as hard as I can, nearly falling on my ass.
On the floor in front of me, the drawer lies upside down. A hollow gap makes space for where the track flows on either side, about the size of a folder... I’m a genius . Sliding the drawer back on its track, I unlock the briefcase, pull out the folder inside, and slip it into its new hiding place.
After securing the documents, I open the second drawer, sifting through pants to find the first aid kit below. I sit down in the tanned lounge chair, covered in stains I’d rather not think about, and clean the wounds on the bottom of my feet with peroxide. Digging out three small pieces of glass I missed before, I let out a sigh as the stinging starts to dissipate.
Once the pain has subsided, I look through the briefcase one more time, throwing the bills on the bed before relocking it. As I stand, I brace myself against the chair, unable to walk on the soles of my feet. I tiptoe my way into the bathroom, climb on top of the toilet, and push up the ceiling tile before sliding it back halfway. I brace myself against the wall, trying to stop myself from tipping over as I slide the briefcase into the ceiling.
Walking on my tiptoes to the bed, I slide under the musty covers and flip onto my stomach, so the springs don’t dig into my bruised back.
With my eyes closed, I hear the front door squeak open. I quickly grip the gun I still have strapped to my leg. In one swift motion, I turn on my side and cock the gun at the figure standing in the doorway.
“Jesus fuck Bianca!” Jeremy raises his hands, dropping his backpack on the chair as I quickly lower the gun .
“You scared me,” I huff out, running my hand over my face. It only felt like I had been asleep for seconds, but Jeremy wouldn’t be home this early if that were the case. “Why didn’t you come in through your door?” I ask as I flip off the covers. I
feel something wet resting near my hand when I shift into bed. Looking down, I see my sheets are covered in blood. I try to cover it up before he notices, but he’s already scowling at me.
Jeremy is a man I took in after Leo picked off the girls one by one four years ago. His parents were drug addicts and were indebted to a Capo from the Hawkins family.
After the Capo’s last visit, Jeremy ran as far away from them as possible. He wasn’t going to pay the price for his father’s addiction. I found him talking to a low-rank dealer in an alley right next to the strip club I used to work in.
The dealer wanted him to start working for him, but I knew he would never make it out of the mob if he did that. His whole life would change and turn into something like mine. Dead before he hit twenty-five.
The mob finds men like Jeremy and turns them into killing machines, drug addicts, or dealers if they are lucky. I watched man after man enter the street life one week, and a few weeks later, end up dead because they were working off a debt they couldn’t pay. If you refuse to work… well, you know how the stories go.
But this time was different. Jeremy was a kid, only fifteen, almost sixteen. I might only be five years older than him, but when you’re in the mob, age doesn’t matter. If you make grown-up decisions like making a deal with the devil, you will be treated like one.
Once the dealer left, I talked to him for a few hours about his life problems, fed him, and offered him a place to sleep. I paid for a motel room for a few nights. I decided to keep helping him because I was going through some of the same issues at his age. I know what it’s like to be alone. I might not be able to save them all, but I would work damn hard to save the ones I could.
“Hey, long night? I missed you this morning.” He snaps me out of my daze, and I nod slowly.
“Yeah,” I rub my temples, meeting his forest-green eyes. “It took longer than I wanted. How was school?” I change the subject, and he knows better than to pry.
“Good,” he shrugs. “I finally got approved to graduate when we go on winter break,” He saunters over to the mini fridge, pulls out an energy drink and tosses it my way.
“That’s good, what do you need to do?” I rake my eyes over him and notice his blue shirt barely fits him anymore. It’s snug across his broad chest, and the fabric is pulled taught against his arms. His jeans are a bit baggy, but he keeps them up with a black belt. He also has a pair of old tennis shoes he got from the second-hand store a few weeks ago. I bite my lower lip as I take him in, but just as quickly as the thoughts come, I shove them away, forcing myself to focus.
“I just need to write the paper for my English class and take my math final.” I nod in response, and he sits on the lounge chair and searches his backpack. “I told the teacher I wanted to go to the Police Academy, so she said I needed to write an essay for the admission. She said she would use that as my final paper, and it would count towards getting my GED,” He pulled out a pamphlet with all the Academy information on it and handed it to me.
“A six-week course?” He nods, and I look up at him with a soft smile. “A BA in criminal justice?”
“It’s a speed course. If I apply now with the paper, I can start classes in the spring.”
I look over the information, getting this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Looking back up at him, I give him a small smile. “I’m starving. Can you go to the diner across the street and get us dinner? There’s a twenty in my jacket pocket. I’m going to shower.”
This is one of the worst showers in my life, and that’s saying a lot. My showers used to be buckets of cold water dumped over my head. The pain in my arm has tripled, and the cold water is doing nothing but irritating it. I reexamine it and groan.
I quickly wash my hair and take off the makeup I still had on from the night before. I get out, dry off, then put on the oversized hoodie I wear most days and a pair of black underwear.
Jeremy comes back a few minutes later with two bags of takeout, and my mouth waters at the smell. The only thing I had to eat was the bag of chips the night before. I forced myself to eat because I knew I would need the energy, but this greasy meat slab was the best thing I could have asked for. I might not be hungover, but it sure feels like it.
Before I can lose myself in the grease, I grab the first aid kit and walk over to the mirror at the table beside me. Lifting my sweatshirt, I pull my arm out of the sleeve, exposing my breasts. I thread the needle and start to close the cut. I look over at Jeremy, who is eyeing me… well, more like my body.
We’ve been doing that a lot lately, and I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help it. It seems like he can’t either. He looks up, meeting my eyes. Holding his gaze, I pause my stitching.
My heart starts to flip inside my chest. My lungs burn, and I quickly look away. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I force myself to turn back to the cut.
It starts from my mid-arm and stops right above my elbow. It takes about eight stitches before I’m done. I’ve done this about a thousand times, and at this point, I should become a surgeon, given how steady my hands have gotten. I could be on the brink of death and still manage to pull it off. Thank you, Manzo.
I throw the needle and thread onto the counter and run my hand down my face, trying to regain focus on the real world. My mind keeps jumping back to what I did. I fucking killed a man with no hesitation. Yes, he deserved it and should pay for what he did to my girls—but knowing that I’m now being tracked by what looks like another mob boss doesn’t sit well with me. I’m already running from two. I need to figure out who the hell that driver is and who he actually works for.
“What happened?” Jeremy asks in a husky voice.
“Nothing,” I look at the bed, ready to strip the sheets, when I notice they are spotless.
Jeremy must have changed them before he left and I smile as I slip under the covers. I pull them up to my chest, taking a deep breath, and letting the scent linger before I open my eyes, finding Jeremy smiling back at me.
I haven’t had clean sheets in years. I know it’s gross, but I can’t afford to waste money on shit like that when I know I’ll be leaving them behind when I have to run again. The sheets that they offer here aren’t any better. At least with my sheets, I know where the stains come from.
Jeremy hands me the food, and I let out a small groan when I open the bag. Jeremy smirks and shakes his head as he takes a bite of his burger. We sit in silence for a moment as we enjoy our meals, but of course, the game of 20 questions is about to begin.
Jeremy clears his throat and throws the rest of his burger onto the bag he set on the table. He’s staring at me when I look up at him, clearly stewing about our previous interaction. I slow my chewing and pull my eyebrows together.
“Come on, B. You keep me in the dark, you come home bruised and beaten, and you expect me to let it go? I’m old enough to know, and it’s about damn time that you let me in on what the fuck is going on.”
“God damn it, Jer, seriously, this again?” I grumble and lean back into the bed as I flip through the channels on the TV. “There is a reason I don’t want you to know what I do.”
“Yeah, because you still think of me as that fifteen-year-old kid you found.” He stands and starts pacing, “Can’t you see I’m trying to get us out of this shit motel?”
I sigh. I hate seeing him worry. I can't tell him everything. I don’t want him to be a part of this life. “It’s not about me not trusting you. It would be best if you didn’t get involved in what’s going on. It’s…”
“Dangerous.” He interrupts me and stops pacing to lean against the door frame that connects our two rooms.
“Yes.” I nod, “Very. Can we please just eat?” I gesture for him to sit back down but freeze when I see the news headline.
Leo Hawkins was found dead in his hotel room early this morning. He was last seen with a redheaded prostitute with fair skin and is said to be highly dangerous.
I quickly change the channel and settle on a rerun of The Office, but I can feel Jeremy’s eyes on me. I shove a few fries in my mouth and sink deeper into the bed.
“B. Please tell me that you aren’t prostituting?” He walks in front of the TV and holds up the red wig covered in blood. I try to look past him at the show, but he stands in front of my view, and I scowl. “I look past a lot. I wasn’t going to mention anything, but if you’re selling yourself…” He trails off.
“You really think I would become a prostitute?” Anger forces me to stand and grab the wig from him, shove it into the top drawer, and face him .
“Was it you?” He takes a step towards me, and I step back, bumping into the bed.
“No!” I try to be as convincing as possible, but I know he doesn’t believe me.
“Don’t lie to me, B.” His voice is a warning, something I’ve never heard before. He’s normally so gentle, but this…
“I’m not a prostitute.” I hiss, trying to step past him, but he sidesteps me, blocking my path.
“Tell. Me.” He takes another step, causing me to fall onto the bed, but he doesn’t back off.
“Fine.” I stand, making our faces inches apart. With my height at five-foot-seven and his at six-foot-three, it’s hard for me to look intimidating. I might not be a petite five-foot-four girl, but I try my best to give the ‘fuck off vibe’ with a scowl and narrowed eyes. “I didn’t sleep with him, but I did kill him. Go turn me in if you want, but I had my reasons, and I’m not explaining them right now.”
He shakes his head and sighs. He then cups my face, and his eyes dart between mine. My heart skips a beat, and I hold my breath.
What the hell?
He’s always been a teenager, and with my trauma, I always felt older and wiser… but now I feel comfort in his touch, and his words soothe my soul… “Bianca. I don’t care why you did it. And truthfully, I’m not shocked. You could kill a thousand men, and I’d still be by your side. You saved me, and I’m going to save you. When you’re ready, you can tell me why. I know you did it for a good reason,” He leans down and places a kiss on my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We continue to stare at each other, and I shift my gaze to his lips. My tongue wets my bottom lip, and I pull it in between my teeth. His gaze follows the movement, and his eyes quickly meet my gaze again.
He leans in and kisses me so softly I barely register it happening. I stand there shocked for a moment, and I feel him about to pull away, so, instead of letting him, I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.
His tongue parts my lips, and I gladly invite him in. He rakes his hands down my body, gripping the back of my thighs, and lifts me with ease. My hands curl into the soft length of his hair, and he bites my lower lip.
He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine. We close our eyes and stand there for a moment, both of us breathing heavily. When he sets me down, he takes a step back, and the cold chills my body as he walks away.
He sits on the chair, running his hands down his face, scowling at his burger. Why did he stop? I needed more. I wanted more.
No. No, you don’t. You can’t.
I turn away, sit back on the bed to finish my burger and use the TV to distract myself from the thoughts.
About an hour later, we finish our dinner, and Jeremy goes into his room; the door that connects our two rooms stays open most of the time, but tonight, he shuts it. I lean back into the bed and cover my face with my pillow, grumbling to myself in frustration.
Things haven’t always been this tense between us. Something shifted after his twentieth birthday. I had gone down to the gas station at the corner and purchased two shitty cupcakes and a candle. I made him blow it out and make a wish. Little did I know, he was wishing for me to be honest, and I couldn’t give that to him .
As his police academy training approaches, he’s been more protective than ever. It’s something I’m trying to get used to. It always used to be me that had to take care of everyone else.
Between looking after Maggie, Mia, and Karmen in captivity to losing them out in the real world, the idea of Jeremy going out there alone scares the shit out of me. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him, too; he’s all I have left.
Shortly after his departure, there is a knock at the door, and Jeremy walks back in. I lift the pillow off my face and watch as he finishes buttoning his black button-down and tucks it into his black slacks.
“Are you coming to work?” He asks, mildly annoyed, sitting on the bed to finish putting on his shoes.
“Yeah, we need the extra money,” I roll out of bed and go to my closet to search for the black wig I need to style.
It’s on the top shelf on a manikin head, making it too high for me to reach. I’m tall, but apparently not tall enough. Frustrated, I try to reach it, feeling the breeze on my ass as the sweatshirt lifts.
Jeremy clears his throat, and I feel his body press into mine as he reaches up to grab the manikin. I stiffen as his cock presses into my ass. His desire sends a bolt of lust through me. I know it was an accident, but fuck me.
My cheeks heat, red and flushed, as he takes a step back. I grab the wig, ignoring the frisson of excitement that travels through me. Without a word, I head to the desk to start curling it.
Once I’ve curled the wig, I disguise my face with makeup. It’s my best weapon for ensuring I’m not recognized. I start with a black smokey eye, deep contour, winged eyeliner, and black liner on the water line. To top everything off, I apply a shiny gloss.
Going to the dresser, I pull out the knife strap I keep around my chest and the other slim gun holster I keep around my thigh and quickly put all my defense items in their rightful places.
I go back to my closet and pull out my crisscrossed cut-out black dress. The top and bottom are connected by strings that cross over my stomach. I step into it and pull it up under my sweatshirt. I slip my arms into the thin sleeves, pull the sweatshirt off, and glance at myself in the mirror.
I look at the bright red cut, and then I lower my gaze to the bruises lining my ribs, but the one on my thigh is the most visible. Thankfully, the holsters are completely hidden. I sigh, walk over to my rotting desk, and pull out my black heels from underneath.
Jeremy’s eyes follow me while I get ready. He abruptly stands when I fully face him, and he strides towards me as his eyes lower to my ribs. He rubs a light touch over it, and I close my eyes at the connection.
“He did this?” He whispers, and I nod, but he doesn’t say anything.
When I open my eyes, his jaw is clenched, and his eyes are still on the bruises. Stepping back to break the connection, our eyes meet.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, grab my purse off the table, and take everything out but my wallet.
“B…” He starts to say something, but my lack of sleep prevents me from having this conversation.
“For the love of God, Jeremy, I don’t want to talk about it!” I throw the purse on the bed and stalk toward him to get in his face. “I don’t want you to bring it up again.” I cross my arms over my chest, and he runs his hands down his face .
“Why the hell can’t you just let me protect you?” He hisses.
“I don’t need your protection! I can take care of myself. I have for a long time,” My voice slowly starts to rise as my anger builds.
“Bianca, everyone needs help from time to time, and this time, I know that whatever you did to that man isn’t over. You know it, and I know it. Nolan and I both want to help you. You have people willing to fight for you, so fucking take it!”
“That’s not your place. I don’t think you understand the amount of danger it can put you in. The last time someone tried to ‘Help’ me, they ended up dead, and I will not let that happen to you or Nolan. So when I say back the fuck off you. Back. The. Fuck. Off!” I poke his chest with the last words, but he grabs my wrist and scowls.
“It’s my fucking life, and trust me, when it comes to protecting you, I’ll go down swinging. Nolan is our brother. He loves you just as much as I do. If you ask, you know he will help.”
I rip my wrist out of his grip and scowl. He has no idea what he’s saying, but this confirms what I already know. It’s time to disappear.