56. You’ve Got Mail
56
You’ve Got Mail
Matt
I knew going into it that Declan's farewell concert would be an emotional rollercoaster. But even knowing this didn't properly prepare me for how much it would affect me.
By the time we make it backstage, I've managed to get control of myself to the point that I no longer fear I'm going to lose it at any second.
I've spent the last month keeping myself busy, tying up the loose ends of the criminal organizations we managed to dismantle. Once that was complete, I began implementing plans to prevent them from ever rising to power again. Having this daunting task to focus on kept most of the gut-wrenching emotion at bay, but I knew at some point, I wouldn't be able to hide from it anymore.
We’ve all worked tirelessly to ensure there’s no chance that our life's work and the death of Darius and Antoinette won't have been for nothing. This means I've had to come up with an intricate and detailed accounting, which consists of one of the wealthiest people in the world being fictional, with an entire conglomerate of shell companies that have to look real beneath him.
Or, in this case, her.
I have created and utilized every LLC, foundation, corporation—if it could possibly be a moneymaker, I've brought it into the mix.
Luckily, I understand what it takes to keep the government off your back, and I sleep easily at night, knowing my less-than-scrupulous activities are being done for the greater good.
It also helps that the considerable fortunes that we have managed to reap from our work can easily be funneled back into this new business venture.
Along with this came a flurry of interested parties wanting to get in on expanding our initial plan to build and maintain housing and other life-building services for those less fortunate and disadvantaged.
One such man, Albert Power, from the Power PR Management Firm, reached out specifically because one of his employees had had a violent run-in with a sports figure they manage.
While our first instinct is to go out there and rid the world of such men, working out some subtleties to remove the woman from the situation while also not having to completely change her current life was a challenge we happily took on.
Though I got the impression Albert was hoping we would stick with our typical Plan A procedure, he accepted that the best plan was to make this woman unattainable to the player and set up appropriate roadblocks to keep it that way.
With that being the first mission we’d taken on, we're just now feeling comfortable letting loose of the reins we’ve been holding so tightly to for so long and handing them over to the people we trust most.
So, this concert wasn't just a big announcement for Declan; it was a big announcement for all of us.
I enter Declan's dressing area, mildly surprised by how spacious it is, given this was an impromptu event.
I stick to the wall, watching everyone mill around, taking a few final moments to feel the impact of Declan's words spoken only a few short minutes ago.
Slowly, everyone begins to breathe more easily, smiles shine more brightly, and laughter echoes freely.
I wait until Declan is alone and then make my way over there.
“Great show, Dec.” I extend my hand, which he grasps firmly, immediately yanking me in for a hug, and I laugh, going willingly and slapping him on the back.
“It was a little touch-and-go there for a moment. I wasn’t sure I’d get through it.”
“I’d say you more than got through it.”
“It was Issa,” he answers seriously. “She got me through it.”
I smile, knowing exactly what he means. “She really freestyles her parts on the spot?”
“Oh, yeah. She does it all the time, though it’s not as impressive when she does it during an argument.”
I laugh, finding this tidbit entirely entertaining while also being relieved Jessica doesn’t have a penchant for freestyle rap.
Declan steps close to me, his arm coming around my shoulder as he leans down. I attempt to inch away from him, but his mischievous smile stops me. “What are you doing?”
“Did you get it?” Declan asks eagerly.
I frown, quirking a brow at him as I reply, “Get what?”
He frowns at me, an impatient noise brewing in his throat as he leans in even closer. “Don’t play with me, Mathias.”
I return his frown, straightening my spine as I bristle. “Honestly, Declan. I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
He squints at me, then drops his arm and motions for Tony to come over. Tony gives me a questioning look as he strolls across the room, stopping beside Declan, who gets right in his face as he asks, “How about you?”
Tony raises a brow at him and snorts. “What about me?”
“Did you get it?”
“Did I fucking get what?”
Declan scowls, his fingertips tapping on his thigh nervously. He looks from me to Tony and back again.
“What is Declan muttering about now?” Jessica asks from behind me, having just walked over with Carolina.
“I have no idea. He asked me if I got something and then went all weirdo when I said I had no idea what he was talking about.”
Jessica frowns, her eyes immediately going to Carolina’s, whose eyebrows raise into her hairline, her eyes widening almost comically.
I turn back to Jessica, who’s now looking at me with that same wide-eyed expression, and I groan, my eyes going to the ceiling as I say, “What? What did you do?”
She smiles at me humorlessly, her hands coming up as she responds, “Well, I didn’t do anything, per se.”
“They fucking around again, Matt?” Tony asks from my other side, and I turn to face him, nodding. “Apparently.”
Tony steps closer to Carolina, only stopping when his front is pressed right against hers. She doesn’t flinch or pull back, but her eyes are wary as she watches him.
He leans in, his eyes on her lips as he says, “Somethin’ you wanna tell me, sweetheart?”
She swallows, then shrugs and feigns innocence. Tony’s eyes narrow even further. He tsks her, then shakes his head before looking at me. “They’re definitely hiding something.”
Jessica fidgets, her hands twisting together, and sigh. “You may as well just confess. There’s no getting out of it now.”
“Yes,” Declan chirps. “Fucking confess so I won’t look like a complete fucking lunatic for once in my goddamn life.”
“We may as well just give it to them,” Jessica mutters, nudging Carolina with her elbow. Carolina sighs, then digs into her inside jacket pocket, and pulls out a small piece of card stock.
Jessica slaps her hand on my chest, startling me, and my hand comes up automatically, gripping her wrist firmly. I pull her hand back, a similar piece of card held between her thumb and index finger. I take it from her gingerly, realizing immediately that it’s a postcard.
I turn it over and over in my hand, unsure which side I want to focus on first, but finally settle on the front, where typically a picture would be. In this case, it’s not a picture at all. Instead, the front is pitch-black with a foiling that’s such a deep red it almost blends in.
I move it up and down, allowing the foiling to catch the light, revealing a rose, dripping blood, with two revolvers crossed over beneath it.
I glance at Tony, who’s doing the same with his postcard, his brows pinched together in concentration. I close the distance between us, holding my postcard next to his, confirming they’re the same exact thing, and then I turn mine over, and he does the same.
The text is different on each card and makes no sense.
ATL AV 2 AM
Suddenly, my postcard is yanked out of my hand, and I yelp in protest as Declan also makes a grab for Tony’s, who spits out, “What the fuck, Dec?”
Declan flips both around, eagerly scanning each side before holding them both in one hand. He uses his free hand to dig inside his own jacket pocket, walking across the room to a table where he sets the two postcards down, text side up.
We crowd around him, leaning close as he sets a third card down, which shows tomorrow’s date.
Declan is grinning like a fucking lunatic, and I frown in confusion, my heart pounding in my chest at the many implications of what this could mean. “What the fuck does it mean?”
Declan stops grinning, giving me an impatiently grumpy look as he sputters, “Atlantic Aviation, 2 am, tonight.”
Tony laughs hollowly and then retorts, “Absolutely not.”
“No fucking way, man,” I spit out angrily. “There’s no fucking way I’m going to a private airstrip at 2 am with no information on why, how, or for whom.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“No, it’s not gonna happen.”
Declan turns to Tony, his lips pursed, and I already know he’s gonna say something shitty. “Looks like the boy scout is back.”
I grit my teeth, annoyed that he knows how to push my fucking buttons so easily. “Nice try, Declan. I don’t give a shit what you call me. I’m not stupid enough to get on that plane.”
“Tony, help me, man.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn my focus to Tony and then immediately groan at the expression on his face. “Oh my god, please don’t do this.”
Tony shrugs, his trademark smug smile on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I mean, he’s not wrong. It could be fun.”
“It also could be a death trap.”
“If we die, we die,” Tony drawls. “It’ll be like a final adventure.”
“Yeah,” Declan adds. “Just think ‘what would Darius do’.”
“Not a great example, considering the circumstances,” I mutter.
They both give me closed-mouth smiles, eagerness shining in their eyes like a pair of puppies. I look to Jessica, hoping she’ll throw down some form of defense and insist I not go on this stupid adventure.
But she doesn’t, the fucking traitor.
“Fine,” I sputter. “But don’t go blaming me when we end up blown to kingdom come over the fucking Pacific. Or worse.”
Declan shouts excitedly, swooping in and wrapping his arms around me. He lifts me right off the ground, bouncing me up and down excitedly, then sets me on my feet, turning and walking briskly toward the door. “The car’s waiting. We better hurry.”
I groan, looking up at the ceiling as I curse my entire life up to this point. Tony scoots in close to Carolina, pressing a kiss on her lips. She giggles, kissing him back enthusiastically.
Jessica steps in front of me, placing her hands on my shoulders and rising up on her toes in an attempt to kiss me. I glare down at her, wanting to give her a good spanking for keeping that postcard from me.
She eyes me a bit warily, but then her hand moves from my shoulder to my neck, her thumb stroking down my throat firmly. I try not to respond, but the low growl that forms in my chest is an automatic response I can’t seem to control.
The corner of her mouth curves up knowingly, and I sigh, grabbing her by her upper arms and yanking her closer so my breath paints her lips as I whisper, “Don’t think just because I’m leaving that I won’t punish you later.”
She smiles brightly, kissing me lightly and then pulling back to stare up at me mischievously. “I’m counting on it.”
I shake my head, bending down to kiss her once more before releasing her.
Tony is waiting by the door, anticipation in his eyes and his demeanor as he shifts from one foot to the other. “Let’s go, asshole.”
“Shut your hole, fucklicker.”
He smiles brightly, putting an arm around my shoulder as he maneuvers me down the hallway toward the open door, where Declan’s car awaits. “Aww, fucklicker. That one never gets old.”
We exit the building to find Declan waiting impatiently by the car door, which is standing open. He motions for us to hurry, which we don’t, and then we stop outside the car door. “Is this a giant fucking mistake?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Only one way to find out,” Tony adds helpfully.
Declan climbs into the back of the car, quickly followed by Tony. I pause with one hand on the top of the car door and the other braced on the car's roof.
I look back at the door we just exited to find Jessica, Carolina, and Issa standing there. They smile and wave, and I shake my head, entirely certain the expression on my face is pained coercion.
I take a deep breath. “Fuck it.”
Then I get in the car, slamming the door behind me.