Chapter 14 #2
“I see you have personal plans for Chet,” I say with a little smile.
The strange sound of my voice causes Alexei to wet his lips.
He witnesses the smile slide off my face, leaving something ancient and feminine and angry behind.
He’s so into this. “But so does my crew. Chet owes Lemon, and this is the last favor I’m ever going to be able to do for her.
He owns a funeral home, does he? Where better to hide evidence than in a place that personally implicates the man we’re going to kill? ”
I rip my eyes from Alexei and look back to Bohnes, waiting to hear his feedback. He says nothing, the edge of his mouth lifting. If he doesn’t agree, he’ll let me know and we can have it out like a proper couple. Communication is key.
“We need to coordinate,” I continue. “Get everyone to wear black. Bring their balaclavas, like we’re on a job.” I offer Nisha a stupendously over-the-top wink. “It’s time we show both the mob and the mayor at the same time: my crew is part of my value. Uncle Burt will love this.”
“Keep calling him that to his face, I dare you,” Alexei challenges, moving around me and giving Ash an odd look. “Has anyone but you touched the coffeepot this morning?”
“Nobody else,” Ash agrees, shaking his head and pushing his hood off. His hair is all fucked-up. “You want some coffee?”
The moment is tense and stretched.
Monumental.
“I would like that very much, spasibo.” Alexei turns away like he’s not at all squicked out, strutting into the attached breakfast nook.
It’s honestly pretty fucking sweet in there.
Potted plants I don’t have to take care of that Alexei knows all the names to.
Apparently, his mom planted most of them and he brought them from New York.
Somehow, none of them died during his hiatus.
I refocus on Nisha, trying and failing to stifle a grin. Alexei is going to drink coffee given to him by Ash. That’s huge. Them fucking each other turned out for the best.
“Have everyone gear up. Bring their weapons. We need to be willing to get dirty. If there are goons, then the goons have got to go.” I jerk my thumb across my throat, indicating my point. “I said no bodies, but this is an exception.”
“I’m having coffee in front of the fireplace first,” Nisha tells me, because she knows we’re not going to the club today.
Sunday is the only day it’s closed, go figure.
“Then I’ll work it out.” She gives Bastian an assessing look as he puts his hands on his hips and exhales, like he’s already starting the process of gathering himself.
If he can get close enough to Chet to kill him, he’ll do it. Consequences be damned.
That’s okay with me, if he takes it into his own hands. I want a pound of flesh. Bastian wants it more. And trust me: I really fucking want it.
“Do not die on me. That’s your order,” I tell Basti, tossing my hair and hitting him with it on purpose.
“Aye, aye, captain,” he says glibly, inching his way in the direction of the nook. Everyone wants Ash’s food.
Except for Gram.
I turn my attention to Bohnes and Widow, the three of us connected by our neighborhood in a way that Ash and Alexei will never understand.
“Prescott instinct says what about this?” I ask them, and they exchange a look.
Blue eyes and gold ones. Mine. Both of these fucking beasts are mine. My Hades and my King.
“Sending Bastian in to be alone with Chet?” Widow shakes his head and plants his hands on his hips.
“Risky. But do I think Chet will be difficult to lure in with the right bait? Not at all. If he thinks there’s even the slightest chance he can bang and bury your best friend, he’ll come running. It’s a solid plan.”
Bohnes looks at me now, deadly serious. “If I get the opportunity to kill Chet first, even if it’s quick, then I’ll do it. Him being dead is more important to me than him suffering.”
I flip him off, making my own way to the nook. I can beat Bohnes at this. I can utilize my crew, get justice for Lem, and hide the evidence in a way that’ll keep us safe forever. I can do all of those things.
Ash has made French toast, towering stacks of it. There’s a jug with maple syrup. Melted butter. Even Alexei has a plate.
Heaven.
My besties and my boys break bread.
Boom, baby.
“Valeria Navarro, I think she might actually be a bad guy.” Emma Jean is walking beside me as I explore the house, trailing my fingers along the wall. Alexei is walking ahead of me now, guiding us down a long hallway. I’m still sore and trying not to show it.
Last night was delicious and raw. I can feel them with every step I take, and I love it. My hand comes up of its own accord and slides up Alexei’s back. He shivers and flicks his eyes down to me. We’re both trying to concentrate on what Emma’s saying. It’s important.
Also…fuck.
“Valeria Navarro, the head of Housing Dignity for Lane County?” I know about her because Jennifer’s fed me gossip on this lady. KMZI 66.6 talks about her sometimes, too. And Nessie is part of the radio. She knows everything.
“I think she killed the two tenants that tried to protest the eviction. Pierce Cranston, the police officer that… Anyway, he arrested them and brought them straight to the HDLC office. Valeria claims that she offered them services, but they never did leave that building, at least not on camera. On top of all that, she was appointed by Mayor Kelly’s predecessor, but at Jonas’ recommendation.
She worked for him when he lived in LA, too, as a secretary.
” Emma Jean shies to the side as Bohnes gives her a look.
He’s standing directly behind me, one hand on the curve of my waist.
“What do we give a fuck about any of this? Are you saying she deserves to die, too?” he asks point-blank.
“Lemon gets justice, but these people—Marcus Clair and Natalia Greer—don’t matter?” Emma Jean is righteously furious, her chaotic good spilling out all over the place. “You’re the only ones who can help. That gives you an obligation to help. Indifference kills.” She is dead serious.
“We don’t do charity work.” Widow scoffs and moves around her, utilizing the massive hallway to his advantage.
I’m not sure where we’re going, but Alexei really wanted me to see something.
Seeing as this is my new place—at least for now, I’m not living in this area for long—I should take some pride in it and get to know the joint.
“Larron Van Gordon,” Ash whispers, fiddling around in his pocket.
I reach over and grab onto his wrist, forcing his hand out so I can see what’s in it.
He surrenders the dead man’s cuff links with a sigh.
“Him as well. It would relieve my conscience greatly to have my bad deeds redeemed in that arena.”
I’m just staring at him as Emma gapes.
“He looks and sounds like an entirely different guy,” she whispers, like she can’t believe she ever mixed Ash and Aspen up in the first place. Me neither. Why the fuck was I the only one who could see something so obvious? “And yes, Larron Van Gordon needs justice, too.”
“This is getting ridiculous,” Widow grumbles as Alexei pauses in front of a pair of double doors. We’re on the first floor of the house, heading down a wing that runs northeast in a diagonal off the back. “More targets means more chances to run into trouble.”
“We could uncover Mr. Van Gordon’s body with the killdozer,” Bohnes murmurs, flashing white teeth.
He has this disturbed look on his face that makes me so wet that I drip.
I washed up good earlier, so I know this is all fresh arousal.
That’s how much I want them. I’m in season or something right now.
I probably will start my period soon, like Bohnes predicted.
He seemingly knows my cycle better than I do.
Goose bumps. “It’d be good press, especially after all the secrets Miss Addison spilled on the radio. ”
Emma Jean bristles when Bohnes uses her real last name. Knows better than to say anything to him though. Good girl.
“Valeria would be pretty easy to kill. She doesn’t have security.” Ash shrugs as I reach over, taking Emma’s hand and placing the cuff links into it. Our eyes meet.
“These belonged to Mr. Van Gordon.” I know Emma helped him out on the campaign trail. This might be hard for her.
“He was the only genuine politician I’ve ever met,” Emma whispers, clutching the cuff links and then hastily shoving them into her pocket. “Think about it. I just thought you should know. The deeper I dig, the farther Jonas’ claws reach. He’s a well-connected man.”
“Problem with scum like that,” I tell her confidently, “is that they turn on each other. They’ll do it to save their own asses.
They’ll do it for an extra buck. They’ll do it for a threat.
Those people are social climbers, sycophants, and sociopaths.
Flick one card and the entire deck is poof, gone. ”
I grin at her, moving up to stand beside Alexei. He’s just staring at the door, so I figure this must have something to do with Pavel. It’s our first real day off in forever, a dangerous moment where emotions could flood in and overwhelm us if we’re not careful.
Sarcastic wit and quick, shiny retorts, a bit of oozing entendre. Yeah. That’s a healthy diet. That’ll keep me sane.
“My father used to conduct business in here.” Alexei’s smile is raw and unfiltered.
He doesn’t hide his emotions or his nudity.
But he wears gloves and carries hand sanitizer and cotton swabs in his pockets.
“I wasn’t allowed in this room for any reason whatsoever.
He’d meet with family contacts. Jonas. Chet. Ernest. His lawyer. Right here.”
Alexei draws out a key from his pocket, examining it before inserting it into the door and turning the gold knob.
The doors split open to reveal a steamy bathhouse.
There are square baths, as big as hot tubs.
Four in total, enough room for twenty people comfortably. I could fit half my crew in here.