Twenty-Four Ella
TWENTY-FOUR
Ella
I’m back in the tree, and Leo is sprawled under me, tongue lolling, content.
We drove in a battered Toyota that blends into traffic, the kind of truck nobody remembers.
I picked a path that ducks every camera I know about and a few I only suspect.
Now I give the bird whistle and count to ten.
Nothing stirs. That’s fine. This isn’t my usual hour, and if a lens tags me now, I’ll have problems. I whistle one more time for luck, drop to the grass, and dust off my hands.
The front desk won’t let a dog in, so I need another approach.
The nursing home sits quiet, the big brick building stretched low and confident. I head toward the main doors, then cut left without breaking stride and follow the exterior until I reach the window I need.
A gardener looks up from across the lawn and then returns to tending his roses. I’ve learned that if I act like I know what I’m doing, folks usually don’t bug me.
I tap the glass. The slats flip up, and my godmother leans out, green glasses crusted with rhinestones catching the light. She pushes them higher, sees Leo, and softens. “Oh, what a sweetie.” She props the window, hooks the screen out of the way, and waves me forward. “Bring him inside.”
“That’s the plan,” I say. Leo looks at me, then at her, then back at me. He bunches his legs and slips through the opening like he’s done it a hundred times.
I climb in after him and land hard on one knee—not nearly as graceful as my dog.
Aura grabs my elbow and steadies me while Magdalena’s voice cuts from behind a monitor. “What exactly are you doing?”
I stand, brush grass off my pants, and watch Aura swing the screen back, slide the window down, and tug the blinds shut with quick, practiced motions.
Joslyn pivots in her chair, pale blue eyes that miss nothing locked on me. “Where have you been?”
“Kidnapped,” I say. “Justice Beathach took me.”
Aura’s ring-heavy hand presses to her chest. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Heat climbs my face before I can stop it.
Magdalena studies me, then the dog, then me again, her mouth tightening as if she’s solved a problem she doesn’t like. “You did not,” she says.
Aura turns to her. “Didn’t what?”
“Nothing,” I say, too quick. “I didn’t do anything.”
Jos doesn’t blink. “I doubt that.” She tips her chin, unblinking. “Are you involved with Justice Beathach?”
“I’m not involved with him,” I say. “He might have kidnapped me a couple of times.” There are more pumpkins decorating the place than before, and several have been covered in orange sequins. The smell of fall, apples and ciders, spills from a couple of candles lit on the far credenza by the door.
“You didn’t kiss him, did you?” Jos’s voice is sharp, like she already knows the answer.
My cheeks blaze. “He kissed me.”
Magdalena slides her glasses higher, pink sequins glittering across the frames she glued herself. She peers at me over the lenses, eyes narrowing. “Did you kiss him back?”
I shift on my feet. “I did.” The words scrape out. I’d done a lot more than that. No way I’m giving them details.
Mag’s chair creaks as she leans forward, her elbow on the desk, her hand fishing in the glass bowl beside her. She unwraps a caramel with neat, practiced fingers. “Well, how was it?”
I glance at the floor, then up, my voice light and shaky. “He’s a good kisser.” Oh, please don’t ask for more details. Please.
Aura pats my arm, her thin skin soft and smelling faintly of rose lotion. “As long as all you did was kiss him, I suppose that’s all right.”
Oh, for the love of everything holy. “He’s not that bad.” I nod toward Leo, who sprawls contentedly on the rug. “He beat up a guy to save the puppy.” Killed the guy, really.
Three pairs of eyes turn toward the dog. Jos studies him with her usual soft spot for animals. Mag tilts her head, sugar still melting in her mouth. Aura just smiles like glitter belongs in every corner of the world.
“He let you keep a dog?” Jos asks, disbelief edging her words.
“Not just let me,” I say. “He helped me save him.” My voice pushes too hard, like I’m trying to sell something I don’t quite buy.
Justice might be decent with me, with dogs, probably with elderly women, but in the grand tally of life, his soul probably has some serious dents.
It should worry me more than it does. “I kind of feel safe when I’m with him. ”
Aura gasps and claps her rhinestone-bright glasses up on her head. “That’s how they get you, honey. They make you feel safe, make you feel special, and before you know it—”
“You’re in the mob,” Jos finishes flatly.
I laugh under my breath. “I don’t think that’s really how it works.
” Though both Alana and Rosalie ended up right there.
Not in the business, but standing beside it.
Rosalie’s an attorney, a legitimate one, and Alana still fronts Aquarius Social with posts online, now branching into Malice Media.
Neither of them has blood on their hands.
Every instinct in me says their men would burn the world to protect them.
I like that for them. “I can’t gossip any longer.
We need to get to work to retake my company. ”
I need the TimeGem powerful servers to cure the computer virus before anybody else gets a hold of it. Including Justice. Of course, I plan to cure him as well. Somehow.
Aura twirls a strand of her silver hair and eases back into her chair, sequined tracksuit sparkling under the glow of the string lights.
She rolls closer to her keyboard, fingers poised.
“I tracked what you sent. Whoever infiltrated the TimeGem servers knew what they were doing. I can piggyback on that, same as you. And I see you’ve already been in here. ”
The room hums with machine noise and little touches of defiance. Glitter clings to the carpet, catching the twinkle of string lights looped around curtain rods.
Mags nods. “We can take the system down whenever you want, but we need a plan.”
Jos nods, fingers resting on the edge of her neat notepad. “If we take the diamonds out of commission, we have to make sure there are citrines ready to replace them, and you’ll need to be there to charge them.”
Mags taps her chin, squinting at the monitor glow. “Unless you charge them beforehand. Either way, we need them ready, and we need to be in the server room to do it.”
I stiffen. I don’t like the way they keep saying we. “How exactly are we going to do that?”
Aura smiles, and despite her rhinestone tracksuit and silver bun, it’s wicked. “I’m working on that.”
Mags exhales hard, her sequined glasses slipping down her nose. “I’d love to steal the diamonds. They’re so … sparkly.”
Aura tilts her head, considering. “I suppose we could. I know a good fence in Boise.”
Jos leans back, crossing her arms over her white shirt. “There’ll be some residual energy in the diamonds from Sylveria since she’s the one charging them, but it’ll fade. We could sell them on the open market. Think of the dogs we could save.”
“I’d like that,” I murmur. “Sylveria’s hinted she needs my help a few times, but she hasn’t told me what for, and I haven’t hit her servers yet. Have you?”
Mags shakes her head. “Not yet. Someone else is already after them.”
I grin despite myself. “I like that. I like that a lot.”
Aura narrows her eyes, glitter flashing from her glasses. “Totally agree.”
The monitors throw pale light across their faces—Aura with her sequined sleeves, Mags with her candy bowl pushed to the side, Jos with her locket catching the glow. The whole room hums with electricity and age, these women plotting server raids like it’s just another Tuesday.
“Do you want me to attack TimeGem?” Aura asks.
I love any idea that keeps these women working remotely. “Yes. Make Sylveria need my help, more than she already does.”
“Then what?” Jos asks, folding her arms tight.
“Then I’ll end up in the server room to help her?” I’m not sure about this plan.
Jos hops in her seat, looking adorable in a purple pantsuit. “Then we can plan a robbery?” Hope fills her faded eyes.
“Sure.” I wonder if Justice will help. He’s got the manpower.
But considering I just escaped his penthouse, he’s probably pissed.
My butt still tingles, and I’m not up for another spanking.
I’m pretty sure I’m bruised. “For now, I need to get to my last decent safe house to work. I’ll finish opening the tunnel into their server.
You can attack about four this afternoon. I’ll clear the path for you.”
“Excellent.” Aura claps her hands, rhinestones catching the glow of the monitors. “I’ve been waiting to attack forever. I’m glad you’re finally ready.”
Me, too. With Justice on my ass, another player making a move, and Sylveria wanting me in her server room, I’m running on borrowed time. “I am so ready. Does anyone have a phone?”
“Of course. Do you want a burner or my regular one?” Mags asks, tugging open a drawer.
“Burner.”
She rummages past stacks of candy bars, crystal pendants, and a half-burned candle before tossing me a small black phone. “Who are you calling?”
“I’m texting Rosalie.” That will have to do. I so do not want to talk about Justice with her while my godmother listens in.
My thumbs move fast. IT’S TIME TO FILE SUIT AGAINST TIMEGEM.
Rosalie has an entire case prepared—challenge of the will, challenge of the trust, fraud, theft. She’s been waiting for my signal.
“She’ll file it right away,” I murmur.
The phone buzzes back: ARE YOU SURE?
YES. PLEASE FILE.
A flood of emojis rolls in—smiley faces, hearts, clapping hands—then: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? HAVE YOU BEEN WITH JUSTICE BEATHACH?
I return the text: I HAVE, AND I NEED TO TALK TO YOU, BUT NOT NOW. FILE THOSE PAPERS.
Three dots show, and then: FINE, BUT MEET TONIGHT. FIVE O’CLOCK. SANDBAG BAR BACKROOM. YOU AND ME.
I picture the routes in my head, dodging as much CCTV as possible, then send: ABSOLUTELY. SEE YOU THERE. I can get inside without being seen. Rosalie knows what she’s doing. I toss the phone back to Mags.
“I’ll destroy this in just a minute,” Mags says easily.
“Thanks.” I move back toward the window. “Would you all keep the dog for a bit?” It’s easier to run without him.
“Of course,” Jos says for the group, her fingers flying over the keys. “I’ll order him food right now. And treats. Plus a few toys.”
Leo flops down on her feet. Yeah, he’s found a kindred spirit.
I don’t blame him. I love this place and these women.
The room hums with overlapping signals that include the faint whir of cooling fans, the snap of wrappers as Mags digs for another caramel, and the steady tick of the crystal-faced clock on the wall.
String lights flicker above the curtained windows, throwing small halos across the cluttered credenzas.
Aura’s perfume bottles and bedazzled teacup sparkle under the glow, while Jos’s workspace stays neat, her topaz locket gleaming as she makes another note in her tidy handwriting.
I gently pull the window screen free.
“Why don’t you go out the main door?” Aura asks.
I shrug. “Dunno. I came in this way. Are you sure the cameras are still out?”
She rears back.
Oops. I lift up a hand. “I know they are. Sorry.” I flop my leg over the sill and drop down on the other side, careful not to trample the flowers. “Thanks and I love you. Get ready to attack at four.” I blow kisses, turn, and run across the lawn to the forest.
The trails are familiar as I move between trees to a small alcove where I usually hide my vehicles while visiting. There are no cameras anywhere near.
Reaching the truck, I open the door just as a gleaming town car tears around the bend and screeches to a stop at my side.
Two men jump out.
“Damn it.” I shove the door, but the closest guy is quicker. His hand clamps on my arm, yanks me forward, and before I can twist free, he tosses me into the back of the town car. I hit hard, palms scraping the pristine carpet. The air smells like new car and real leather.
I push up, knees stinging. “Ah, shit.”
Sylveria Rendale sits across from me in a blue ball gown, the kind that belongs at a gala, not here.
The skirt is bunched at her knees, creased from the ride.
A row of diamonds circles her throat, bright even in the dim car light.
Her hair is pinned tight, not a strand out of place. “How are you, my dear stepdaughter?”
“Just great,” I mutter, sliding onto the seat. “How did you know I was here?”
“I’ve been tracking Rosalie’s calls and texts.
Even though you used a burner phone, Rosalie didn’t.
” Sylveria smooths her dress with long fingers, her nails painted red.
“The best part is we’re the only ones who know where you are right now.
Most of the underworld still thinks Justice Beathach has you. ”
Well, fantastic. If I end up dead, he takes the blame. Darn it, Rosalie. We all figured she was so safe now protected by the Russian mob. Why hadn’t I thought to give her a burner phone? What was I thinking?
I glance at the door. The hulking bodyguard wedges himself there, with his wide shoulders blocking the window, hands loose at his sides. Watching with no light in his eyes. Not even a glimmer. There will be no help for me from him. “I suppose you still want me dead,” I mutter.
“I really do,” Sylveria says, and then she smiles.