30. Lafe
LAFE
I finished off a few emails to my suppliers and sent them off. Then handled a couple of issues with my street boys. Things that should have been done two weeks ago, but life since I brought Amorette here wasn’t anything like it used to be.
At least not for me.
My thoughts were too loud and my guilt too consuming. I’d put us in this fucked up mess. Me and my stupid fucking conscience.
I sighed as I walked out to the living room and sank onto the couch. It was the exact spot I’d resided in through most of Killer’s stay with me.
Why did I do things the way I did? I scrubbed a hand over my face and dropped my head back against the wall.
Exhaustion stopped the answer from forming.
I’d slept so much since the comedown. If I slept anymore, I’d never wake up again.
It was hard to find it in myself to care.
Andre’s life would be much easier. Parker wouldn’t give a shit either way.
Maybe Grey would care, in the way Grey cared about anything.
But if it wasn’t fighting or fucking, life didn’t hold interest for that bastard.
I guess I should also count myself lucky Grey took the time to get me sorted. Then he stopped by every few days with his healthy meals. Probably to make sure I was still breathing.
My brothers thought I would OD one day, but I had very strict rules.
With Amorette here, I just needed them to stay awake.
To make sure she didn’t run. Looking back, I didn’t need to.
At that moment, though, she was the enemy who would slit my throat in my sleep and send everyone I loved to their deaths.
The mind worked in funny ways.
“Knock, knock!” Parker called through the door.
“Go the fuck away!” I yelled back, slumping further into the cushions. That asshole being here couldn’t mean anything good. He’d laugh at my sorry state and mock me for my weaknesses.
“Sorry, no can do, dear brother. I’m afraid I’m in the hall until you open the door.”
“Like hell,” I muttered. If I gave him enough time, he would go away on his own. Parker had patience in certain situations, but this wasn’t one of them.
“I know what you’re doing. You’re not going to outwait me. Here. How about a little game of tap-tap.”
“Tap-tap?” I grumbled. What the hell was that?
Then it began.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The skitstovel used his finger to annoy the fuck out of me. Like some backass version of Chinese water torture.
Fuck this shit. I went to the bedroom and shut the door, but either his tapping got louder, or I knew it was there so my mind was playing tricks on me.
I threw the covers over my head, and it still assaulted my eardrums.
After a solid ten minutes of that wretched sound, I stormed the door, unlocked it, and threw it open.
“Are you fucking happy?” I snarled at a smiling Parker.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “Delighted. You look like shit.” An insult delivered with a smile. The very definition of Parker.
“Fuck you.” I turned around, leaving him to come in on his own. If he wanted to be an ass, he could shut and lock the door behind him.
He chuckled under his breath. After he took care of the door, he followed me to the couch. While he looked around the place, he whistled.
“You know, Blanca would probably come help you clean up this mess.”
I sneered.
“You didn’t keep it like this when Little Love was here, did you?” He raised his brows. “Girls like her, they aren’t too fond of pigsties. If you lay with pigs…” His lips curled as he trailed off.
“You get dirty,” I deadpanned.
Parker full-on smiled and stretched back against his chair. His gaze constantly moved around the living room, and he didn’t try to engage in any more conversations.
Closing my eyes, I almost forgot he was here.
I was just so tired.
My phone rang in the other room, jolting me out of my doze. I jerked up and stared right into Parker’s eyes. He had been watching me while I slept. That would have disturbed me with anyone else. With Parker, he had always been odd. And I trusted him with my life.
For the most part.
“I checked the fridge while you napped. I see you’ve been eating Grey’s food and drinking the water supply,” he said as the phone stopped ringing.
I grunted. What did he care?
“You’re not even going to ask about her?”
I cut my gaze to him. Grey hadn’t said one word about her when he’d been here. Not surprising since she pissed him off.
Killer had taken up more of my thoughts than I would ever admit. Mostly about myself and why I couldn’t leave her there. Yet, every once in a while, a stray thought would pop in about where she was. Did she hate us? Were we scum to her because of our forced careers?
Did she see our weaknesses the same way I did?
“Your silence is giving you away, Lafe.” Parker leaned forward and slapped my knee. “I’ll put you out of your misery. Little Love is firmly planted in our lives now. I thought you’d be happy to know she doesn’t need constant supervision anymore.”
I perked up, my curiosity getting the better of me. “It’s been a week, maybe a little more, since I fucked it up. How did that happen so fast?”
He had to be fucking with me. The way she was driven by her righteousness wouldn’t allow her to bend so easily. It was why I stayed coked up to watch her.
“Ah, but, brother, you forget she has a savior complex.” Parker grinned and paused. When I glared at him, he shook his head in amusement.
Everything was a joke to him.
“We’re putting her to work. She’s going to research potential projects for me.
” He waited to see if I’d have anything to say about that, and when I didn’t, he continued.
“So, I took her to meet Rod and let the public see her with us. It helps that she made up with Grey.” He shrugged like he never doubted that for a minute.
“Everything was going splendidly until Grey took her and Blanca to the restroom.” His jaw worked, the first sign that whatever happened next angered him.
“Why was Blanca there?”
“Not important.” He waved my question away. “The important thing here is, a gunman caught Blanca and Grey in the hallway. It seems that either Vicente wants us off the board, or another player is trying to break into the game.”
I furrowed my brow as I sat forward. Where was my water? My mouth was parched and this news was starting to give me a headache.
“What does that have to do with Amorette?” I croaked, thinking I had an idea where this was going.
“Well, because Amorette came out of the restroom and to their rescue. She saved the day. Or at least thinks she did.”
“She took care of the gunman?” Why would she do that?
“More than took care of him. She killed him. Shot him with his own weapon. Which, he had shit for brains to have a second gun stuck in a visible place. He deserved it.”
Parker’s glee in recounting the story was bordering on morbid. He was thrilled that she jumped in to save them.
But I still came back to the question–why would she do that? For them? Maybe for Blanca. Grey would be seen as her captor, the same as Maikel and me. Right?
“Don’t you see what this means?” He grinned and leaned forward. “Little Love isn’t quite so bright white as she wants to be. In her lovely little head, she’s now a murderer.”
“Hm.” But what would that do to her psyche? Parker was flying high that she wouldn’t try to leave. I was more concerned in my fogged-out brain that she’d push for revenge, since we were the catalyst that led her to this defilement of her character.
“You’re absolutely no fun,” he sighed as he fell back in the chair.
“I don’t think this is the easy solution you think it is,” I warned.
He waved his hand again. “Stop being paranoid. You should be past this stage in your comedown.”
I growled.
“Accept this for the boon it is. Now Grey can keep his fuck buddy, and you can keep your sanity. You can stop beating yourself up for taking her. Anyway, I had another reason for coming here.”
He pulled out his phone and opened an app. When he turned the phone my way, it was a mostly clear image of Killer sitting in the living room of the birdcage.
Why did they put her there if she wasn’t a threat anymore?
“She asked. That’s why she’s in the birdcage. But don’t worry. Grey won’t let her be there for long.” He shook the phone until I took it from his hands.
Killer was sitting on the couch, staring blankly into the room. I recognized this behavior. She was in shock.
“You put cameras in there?” I had to check the timestamp to make sure it was actually live and not a picture or a loop.
“We should have done that ages ago. I only had cameras installed in the living room and kitchen just to make sure she was still breathing. I had a feeling she’d go back sooner or later.
” He reached out to take the phone back.
“I’ll send you the link. That should take off the sharpest edge of your distrust. You can watch her.
Make sure she’s not plotting our murders,” he said with a smirk.
Without any other comments, he strolled to the front door, and right before he closed it he said, “You should lock this behind me.”
Asshole.
It was another ten minutes before he sent the link to the app with the login details.
I logged in immediately.
Killer was still in the same position, missing all the fire that had drawn me to her.
It was intrusive and wrong to watch. Still, I did. I watched her for hours. It was addicting. She moved between catatonia and screaming rages. Tears were present only half of the time.
Parker had added three cameras. Two in the living room and one in the kitchen. The only time I couldn’t see her was when she went to the bedroom.
When she’d disappear, I itched, constantly flipping between all three angles while I waited for her to appear. She was digesting her first kill. Coming to terms with it.
I followed along with her, remembering my own screwed-up initiation into the life. In a way, it was cathartic. Until days passed, and she was mostly a zombie at this point.
The intrigue and connection had worn off, leaving behind the guilt of watching her when she wasn’t aware.
She’d claimed her name, Killer.
And I added another deed to my sins.
Stalking.