Chapter 8
Nova
I’ve never hyperventilated in my life, yet I’m dangerously close right now.
Not only am I supposed to be working and am not, but I’m staring at something that I presume is a very fucking old piece of stone with hieroglyphs on it.
I’m also in a fucking cave that could be used for smuggling or killing.
What the fuck is going on?
“That’s not drugs,” I blurt out, my brain deciding on the most ridiculous thing to say, it seems.
“No, it sure isn’t. So, your dress?” Chris looks over at me, and I see the anxiety in his eyes.
“Sure.” But I don’t move. I continue to stare at the very old and probably very illegally piece of stone.
“Can you go get it?” Chris says with more urgency.
“Shit, yes.” I spin around and march out the opening before Chris pulls me back by my shoulder.
“Let me clear the way first. No need for you to be seen, then asked questions you can’t answer right now, and make this more messed up than it already is.” He peeks out of the cave and keeps his head on a swivel the entire walk back.
My head is completely blank the entire walk back to Bella’s. It’s like there were so many thoughts in there, trying to figure out what the hell is happening, that it just gave up. I’m now walking like a zombie to my locker, with Chris hot on my tail, like this is a normal everyday occurrence.
I fear I’m about to be dropped into far more than I bargained for.
And that’s saying something since I assumed I’d either end up dead or in jail when this was all said and done.
Wordlessly, I hand Chris the T-shirt dress I keep in my locker and watch him bolt out the door to the random cave. I stand in the back parking lot, waiting for him to return so I can tell him to be here at the end of my shift.
He better get ready because one hell of an explanation is going to be needed once I’m done with my impromptu shift. Chris agrees to stick around before I have to get back to work.
I came here to try and focus on my end game. To digest everything that happened at the MET and process how I feel about where Charlie’s life went.
Now? I’m distracted as hell on stage, looking for Chris—who doesn’t return—and wondering what the hell that stone was. It was old, as in “should be in the MET” old, which means knowing it was in the cave is probably dangerous as hell.
Shit. What if Thing 1 or 2 saw me and tell Cano? That’s a sure-fire way to get myself killed.
And Chris is using your dress to transport it. If Cano puts two and two together, it’s beyond game over.
A hand slides down my thigh as I walk the edge of the stage, jolting me out of my panic. The big step back combined with my wagging finger telling him no will probably lose me tips, but I’m far too lost in my new problems to give a shit.
As I continue my half-assed dance, my confusion ramps up.
Why was Chris picking up something like that from a very sketchy cave area? Why was it just sitting out there in the open for anyone to see? Granted, I had no idea there was anything like that there, but it doesn’t mean people don’t stumble upon it.
And what happened to drugs? This change in … product is throwing me for a loop. Drugs are easy. Artifacts, artwork, or very expensive things that are most likely stolen? I have absolutely no clue where to start with this.
It’s not like I can ask Chris outright.
“Hey, remember when you took my dress so you could hide a precious and old-as-fuck stone with hieroglyphs on it? What was that all about? Am I going to die for even knowing about it?”
Yeah, that would not go over well.
Fuck.
As my song ends, muscle memory is the only reason I leave the stage.
My ass plops down on the chair in front of my locker as I stare at the wall.
What do I even do now?
Oh, that’s right. I’m still on shift for another three hours. At least it will kill some time for my head to catch up on these new developments.
My last dance is over at midnight. It takes me minutes to change before I head out and walk to the park that’s nearby. Shockingly enough, it’s just down coast from the cave.
The swings provide somewhere for my nervous, unsettled energy to go while I think.
I know I told Chris to wait for me, but now I’m not sure what to do or say. Do I call Chris? Do I wait to see if he calls me? Am I able to act like nothing happened?
I’m not sure if I can, but as I think about the images on the stone, I start to think about my options.
If I can use this to my advantage, maybe I can help Chris with this side of the business.
Or at least make him think that I’m helping.
Maybe get close to him and see if I can get more information.
Use it to blackmail Cano and get my revenge for Charlie.
I nod as I kick my feet back and forth, sending me higher and higher. The wind in my face is the only thing making me feel alive.
“This seat taken?” Chris’s voice shocks me to my core. So much so, I almost fall off the swing.
“Holy shit, clear your throat or something.” I gasp.
“Sorry. Shit. I’m sorry.” I feel his hand on my back, slowing me down. The worry on his face is real.
He sits in the swing next to me, but neither of us talks.
I’m not sure what to say, honestly. It’s best if I act like I didn’t see what I did.
It’s safer for me. I still don’t know Chris all that well, although I do trust him more than most men.
I can’t trust his intentions yet. All thoughts of blackmail disintegrate because who am I kidding?
I can barely get Chris in the palm of my hand.
There’s no way I can blackmail a fucking drug kingpin.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your dress.” He holds out the wadded-up fabric, which I grab and nod. “No one knows you saw it or helped me.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“No one will know,” he says firmer.
“Okay.” I match his tone. One thing I do know is that I need to be strong. Show no weakness even if I was starting to melt for this man. It’s too risky, and I should have remembered that earlier.
“Talk to me.” There’s a panic in his voice that doesn’t soothe my frayed nerves at all.
“I think it’s best if I don’t talk. And pretend like I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His sigh makes me nervous. “But you did see it, and something like this isn’t easy to just forget.”
He’s right, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to be more involved than I already am.
Silence surrounds us before my impulse control leaves my body. “What was it exactly?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I do know it’s likely Upper Paleolithic.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I murmur.
“Stone Age, basically. I’ve never seen a piece like the one in the cave from this era before, but if that’s what it is … then it’s beyond priceless.” His voice has a tinge of awe mixed with something I can’t place.
Anger maybe? Although, I have no clue why he would be angry.
“I’m so confused.” My head tilts back so I can look at the stars. “I thought Cano was just about drugs. How does”—my hands flail around—“all of this factor in?”
“The drugs are mostly a cover. I mean, it still makes him good money, but it’s really just the forward-facing part of his cartel. The real stuff is the artifacts. The artwork.”
“And how does he get all of this stuff?”
When Chris doesn’t answer, I shift to look at him. His eyebrow is up, like he’s asking if I’m serious. “Shit. It’s all stolen?”
“We’re already in too deep, I suppose. Most are, yes. Some are legitimately bought, but those are the exception, not the rule.”
“So this is, like, what? Pirate shit? Next, you’ll tell me they use big ships to transport everything?”
Chris’s laugh should put me at ease; it usually does, but not this time. “Sadly, no. But that’s not a bad way to look at it. It is kind of a modern-day pirate business.”
“And you’re just okay with this?” The higher my voice gets, the closer I am to hysterics. I can feel it just on the edge of my consciousness.
He sighs., “It’s business.”
Two words, but they seem so much more complex. There’s more to this; there has to be.
I push off the ground, sending the swing into motion again. Chris mirrors my actions as I try to come to terms with everything he’s told me.
Ten minutes could pass, or it could be an hour—I’ve lost track—but when I do finally speak, I shock myself. “I want in.”