Chapter Eight. #2
“Yeah,” I muttered. No fuckin’ way was Amy staying in that apartment alone.
The two Feds were acting seriously off. That wreath had alerted them to something.
Worried about Amy and not wanting to scare her, I just nodded when the agents stood up.
Drew and I exchanged glances. Something wasn’t right about Nathan Coleman’s death.
Hopefully, Inglorious would get an answer.
Amy
As expected, my dad freaked out and insisted I come home. Instead, I headed back to the apartment. The only reason Papa wasn’t hauling me off was that Vortex had stated he was going to stay the night. That led to a whole new conversation, during which Vortex leaned back in my armchair and smirked.
Damn, infuriating man. Papa also informed me that Natasha’s funeral was booked for four days from now. It had been five days now since the crash, and while the media continued to speculate, the Feds remained tight-lipped.
Vortex and I ate dinner, watched some more Michael McIntyre, and then I fell asleep.
I stirred as Vortex carried me to bed, but I was too tired to say anything.
When I woke the next morning, I heard swearing.
Sleepily, I blinked, wondering what the hell had happened now.
When I entered the living room, Vortex was staring out the window, cursing rapidly into his phone.
I headed for the bathroom and used the toilet, brushed my teeth, and washed my face. When I came out, Vortex faced me furiously.
“What now?” I asked, resigned.
“Someone leaked your name.”
“What?”
“Brave girl, you’re all over the networks.
Some asshole outed you as a survivor.” Vortex’s expression shifted.
I steeled myself for more bad news as he continued, “They also know that Natasha was with you at dinner and you survived, and she didn’t.
The story is top news: the tragedy of two friends who were seated inches apart.
” The disgust in Vortex’s voice couldn’t be clearer.
“There’re fuckin’ reporters outside, and they keep coming,” Vortex stated. I dashed across the space and peered through my curtains. A throng of people gathered, their numbers increasing as I watched.
“Oh, no!”
“Your picture is all over the place. Gotta get you out of here. Pack a suitcase; you’ll stay at the clubhouse. The club can protect you better there,” Vortex said.
I sat down heavily on the sofa. “Mari must be devastated.”
“I’ve spoken to Phil. He and Duke are heading over. The media are also outside her home.”
“Why can’t they leave Mari to grieve!” I exclaimed angrily.
“Because they’re asshole pond scum who feed on people’s grief and misery. Let’s get you packed and out of here,” Vortex urged.
“I’m causing more trouble than I’m worth. This is crazy.” I shook my head.
Vortex straightened. “Amy, look at me.”
I did because something in Vortex’s tone made me.
“You didn’t cause any of this. You’ve not sought attention or the drama. Believe me when I say that you’re worth far more than this. Now, brave girl, so pack for at least a week.”
“We’ve got Tash’s funeral. What if the press attends there?” I whispered.
“Do you trust me?” Vortex asked.
“Yes. Ever since the moment you found me,” I replied.
“Then they won’t upset Natasha’s funeral,” Vortex promised.
Aurora-Victoria
The feeling hit me with such force that I staggered back. Luckily, I wasn’t alone in the shop; otherwise, this might have been very nasty. Lowrider’s hand shot out and grabbed me.
“Aurora?”
“Vision coming, big one,” I stammered out.
“Shit!” Lowrider exclaimed. He released me, thinking I had my balance, and yanked his phone out. I had mere seconds before the vision hit. I reeled backward and slammed into the counter.
“Crap!” Lowrider shouted as I went down. He caught me before I hit the floor and lowered me gently.
“I see a man in a cloak, I can’t see his face, he carries a scythe. I think he’s the Grim Reaper. He’s stalking the fire in the sky. He feels cheated, that it wasn’t pure, the survivors tarnished it… he’s searching.”
“For what?” Lowrider asked.
“I don’t know. There are caves and a pool of blood.
The reaper’s reflection shows, but his face is a skull.
I see a whirlpool, spinning faster and faster, and flames, such hot flames.
There’s a gallows with men and women hanging from it.
The reaper is laughing at them. He flashes his scythe, and they fall into the whirlpool, but they don’t drown; the whirlpool keeps circling them near the top. ”
I paused as I tried to sort through the images that were coming faster. “Ten skulls on an altar. Blood drips from a bed and forms a small puddle, which then becomes a tornado. The scythe flashes and takes a head. The reaper holds it up in triumph; he now feels vindicated.”
A pain slammed me right between the eyes. “Death isn’t finished yet.”
I gasped as dark laughter surrounded me, then faded. Lowrider’s concerned face peered into mine.
“Are you okay?”
“Not sure. Did you get all of that?” I murmured.
“If he didn’t, I did. This’ll go freaking viral!” a woman crowed. I made a horrified noise, and Lowrider spun around on his haunches. She held her phone, its screen lit as she tapped on it.
“Don’t you dare put that on social media!” Lowrider hissed.
“Screw that, buddy, this is going to make me famous!” the woman cackled.
“Call Leila,” I exclaimed, and Lowrider nodded. Somehow, I knew it was too late. Not even Leila or Nigel could stop the deluge.
Vortex
Getting Amy out of the apartment had been crazy.
The press was covering both the front and rear doors.
In the end, an elderly neighbour let us use his apartment to climb through the window and escape in the waiting SUV that Rory was driving.
It was freaking ridiculous that they couldn’t respect someone’s grief and trauma.
I’d thrown the suitcase out after her, and Rory had grabbed it before leaving.
Nobody paid me much attention when I left and collected my Harley. Guess they thought I lived there or something. I was nearly home when the phone rang.
“Vortex.”
“There’s a problem,” Inglorious snapped. Fuck, he was pissed.
“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”
“Not you. Aurora-Victoria had a vision an hour ago. Lowrider was with her. They didn’t see a customer filming, and the bitch put it on social media. It’s gone fuckin’ viral. Leila hacked in to remove it, but it was too late. Thousands have seen it and keep sharing it.”
“Okay? What’s the issue?”
“Aurora-Victoria stated it’s to do with the Titanic of the Skies. That death hasn’t finished and feels cheated by the survivors. The news outlets have picked it up. Now there are theories that the survivors are being stalked like that film. Especially with Coleman’s suicide,” Inglorious said.
“You’re fuckin’ kidding!” I exploded.
“Nope. I wish I fuckin’ was. This is spreading quicker than we can stop it. With Amy’s name being released and this, we’re facing a mess.”
“Amy’s going to need to lie low, Prez. We have to protect her from this crap. In three days, Amy’s got Natasha’s funeral. That’ll be a clusterfuck. What’s the options?” I asked.
“Nanci is reaching out to Mari. Duke and Phil are making the introduction. I’ll call in a marker with each ally. There’s shit we can do to guarantee Natasha gets the send-off she deserves, and the family can attend with dignity. We’ll ensure that the media stay the fuck away,” Inglorious promised.
That humbled me. Inglorious, using a precious marker to be certain my girl and her family got to say goodbye to a loved one. Boy, had I been wrong about Inglorious and his motivations all those years ago.
“I owe you.”
“Nah, it’s what brothers do,” Inglorious replied. Fuck me, that humbled me even further.
“One thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Ask Leila and Nigel to destroy that bitch with the video and let it be known why. She wants to be famous; we’ll give her fuckin’ fame. I’m sick to death of this shit.”