6. Hyacinth
SIX
HYACINTH
My fingers itch.
I curl them into my tight jeans, but the itch is under my skin, and I’d need to pry the flesh from my bones before I’d get relief.
The humid air around me and the thump-thump-thump of the nearby club music doesn’t do anything to alleviate it.
I need to hurt somebody. That’s what will make it go away.
Make somebody bleed, listen to their panicked gasps, and drink their dying breaths.
I wait in the alley, where a motorcycle is propped up. It’s one of those loud ones the biker gangs like to use, so everybody knows that they’re on their way.
Loud and in charge.
I run my hand over the leather seat.
“Hey!” a harsh voice calls out. “What are you doing?”
I turn around to face the man. Tall, well-muscled, wearing a leather jacket that’s covered in patches. He radiates violence as he approaches me.
He really doesn’t seem like the kind of person to take a whip, but appearances are often deceiving.
“I like your ride,” I say. “I bet it rumbles nicely between your legs.” I keep touching the bike, letting my hands slide over the seat and chassis like I own it.
He sneers at me. “Get away from my bike, you—”
“Careful,” I say, smiling. “Anything you say about me is true about you as well.”
His eyes widen, but he shakes his head. “I’m nothing like you. Fucking girly-ass, swishy…”
Like I haven’t heard worse words thrown at me.
I can’t take you along! You’re too… too… feminine.
Ugh, I don’t need to think about all that right now. I wouldn’t be thinking about it at all, if I wasn’t here in New Valence.
The biker grabs my collar and shoves me against the brick wall.
“What did you see?” he growls. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I lick my lips enticingly.
Girlishly.
Are only women allowed to be seductive? That never made sense to me.
The biker recoils, although he doesn’t loosen his hold on me.
“I’m the person who’s going to kill you,” I answer. “No hard feelings.” I pretend to think, then add, “Many hard feelings, actually.”
“You? Kill me?” The biker glances up and down my body. He dismisses me just as quickly, and despite my threat, he even relaxes a fraction.
Amateur.
I take the wire garotte out of my coat pocket and loop it around his neck, faster than he can react. I pull the wire taut, and it instantly cuts into his flesh.
He startles and lets go of me. I pull tighter, and the step he takes away from me has the wire cutting even deeper. He tries to punch me, but it’s trivial to avoid the blow.
I twist around behind him and kick him in the knees.
Already short of breath, he falls to the slick concrete. I tighten the wire, watching as the biker struggles for air.
“How was Zane Vilani?” I ask casually. “I saw you two flirting with each other.”
I couldn’t believe it. Zane Vilani, unwilling to be seen touching me by his underlings, but he’d gone on to proposition a man in a public club.
Hypocrite much?
“And you!” I laugh as the biker gurgles. “Do you think your biker crew would look at you the same if they knew you liked submitting to other men?” I pause. “I assume you submit. Zane wouldn’t submit.”
There’s no way Zane would submit. I try to imagine taking the whip to his back, and it’s simply wrong.
The biker’s struggles slow. Blood drips from his neck down to the concrete, joining the puddles of rain.
I don’t let go.
“Did you suck his cock? Is that the last thing you tasted? Or maybe he fucked you?” I think about it, but they hadn’t been in the room long enough for that.
“You must be a terrible lay. Ten minutes in that room? Which means you came in five, if we factor in the time necessary to get pants down and lube up.”
Unless they hadn’t used lube.
Or condoms.
I growl and pull so tight that the skin parts suddenly. The biker’s head lolls forward, and the smell of blood grows even stronger.
If he was still alive before, he definitely isn’t now.
I huff and finally relax my hold. The biker’s weight is heavy on the garotte.
Yeah, definitely dead.
I unwind the garotte and drop it into a plastic bag while the body drops to the ground. I roll the biker onto his back so I can see my handiwork.
Oh, oops.
That’s a lot messier than I intended.
I crouch down next to him. “Hey, at least we know I’m still good at killing. I thought I was losing my touch. Thanks for helping me out.”
He doesn’t even gurgle in response.
But on the plus side, my fingers aren’t itching anymore.
I knew murder was the best way to cure me of that.
“When you said you had a body to dispose of, I thought it would be Vilani’s,” Forest says.
Forest Cuore is my dearest cousin and second-in-command of the Cuore family here in New Valence.
Or, he thinks he’s second-in-command. Consigliere, underboss, whatever title he wants to go by these days, I know for a fact his older brother Dante, the actual boss, doesn’t trust him with much.
Dante doesn’t trust anyone, but in our line of business, who can blame him?
I swivel in Forest’s office chair. “It couldn’t be helped. That guy pissed me off.”
Forest lets out an annoyed huff. “You said you had stopped with all that. You were over the random killings.”
I stop the chair so I’m facing him.
Forest has the same thick, dark hair and intense brown eyes as his father.
This late at night, the stubble is growing in, and the lamplight makes the slight crookedness of his nose stand out.
I know he wouldn’t be caught dead without a suit jacket during the day, but right now he’s in only a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The slacks are his usual dark gray.
“I never said I was over ‘random killings,’” I protest, doing air quotes for emphasis.
It also wasn’t random, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Forest rubs his temple. “You promised. That’s why I backed you and helped you get out of New Valence.”
“I could have left on my own,” I grumble.
But we both know that isn’t true.
I was trapped. Not physically, but I might as well have had a collar around my neck.
My throat feels so bare right now.
Forest sits down on the chair closest to the desk. It’s like he isn’t even bothered by me sitting in his office chair.
Dante would never have allowed it.
I’d sat in Zane’s chair as I’d scribbled the note to him. I wish I could have seen his reaction.
“And if you didn’t want to deal with me, you shouldn’t have called me back,” I point out. “I don’t want to be here.”
Forest glares at me. “You’re the only person I could trust with this.”
I prop my elbows on the desk and rest my head on my chin. “You never told me why. I do absolutely want to support our family, of course I do, but it would help if I knew—”
“No.” Forest leans back, stretching his neck out.
Huh.
There’s a dark bruise on the side of his throat. Not finger-shaped, either.
I would understand if somebody had strangled Forest. I don’t understand who would kiss him. Or want to leave marks on him.
What kind of women is he taking up with these days?
“Did I interrupt something?” I ask.
Forest opens an eye. “What? Of course you did. I have better things to do on a Friday night than arrange clean-up for you.”
I point at his throat. “Looks like you have better people to do, too.”
Forest immediately slaps his hand over the hickey. His face flushes red. “None of your business,” he hisses. “And it’s nothing. A temporary thing.”
“Temporary,” I repeat, my voice flat.
Temporary doesn’t usually leave marks. Temporary wouldn’t have him flustered like that.
“Who is this temporary woman?” I ask. Anything to get the conversation away from me. “Do I need to vet her? Kill her husband?”
“There’s no—” Forest shakes his head. “Nobody is cheating on anybody.”
There’s no… husband?
Or maybe there’s no woman.
Interesting.
I always thought Forest was straight. He sure looked down on me when I’d started wearing my more feminine clothes, and I’ve seen his discomfort when I cross-dress.
Now I’m even more curious about this supposed ‘temporary’ affair.
“If you both like each other—” I start.
Forest interrupts before I can continue. “I met with Harrington the other day.”
My smile turns brittle. “Shut the fuck up.”
Forest only rolls his eyes. “He’s running for mayor of New Valence now. I’m thinking of donating to his campaign.”
I grip the edge of the desk. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking…”
“If you want me to back somebody else, then do your fucking job,” Forest snaps back. “You’ve been back a month already. It usually takes you a week at most. I’ve never seen you this sloppy.”
“You’ve also never gone after one of the most paranoid men in the city,” I retort. “But if it’s so easy, why not do it yourself? Start a nice, big shootout in his casino and see how that pans out for you.”
Forest glares at me, and I glare right back.
Would anyone even miss Forest?
Dante might even thank me if I murder him.
If he’s dead, he can’t call in any debts, either.
Mom wouldn’t forgive me, though, and even if Dante was glad, he’d still have me killed for daring to go against the family.
If I die, it’s not going to be at my cousin’s hand.
Forest motions toward the door. “Don’t try me, Hyacinth. Now get out so I can get to bed.”
I flip him off and storm out of the office.
Immature, maybe, but I’m too rattled to play it cool right now.
Fuck.
I really don’t want to think about Keith Harrington.
I’ve avoided thinking about him for five years, blissfully free of him and his fucking expectations and his touches and the beautiful pain he gave me.
I’d knelt for him.
I’d happily given him everything he’d asked of me.
I’d killed for him.
He’s the one I should murder.
I fumble for my phone and, stupidly, type his name into the search bar.
The first result is his campaign website. Keith Harrington for New Valence mayor! Helping all small businesses thrive!
He’s still as handsome as he’d been back then. I zoom in on his face, on those lips that had kissed me and the teeth that had bitten me.
It would be easy to go back to him.
He’d have me; I know he would. He’d need me now more than before. I could make his opponents vanish into thin air, leaving him running unopposed.
The website lists contact information. I tap on the phone number.
My finger hovers over the call button.
“Hyacinth?”
I startle and quickly put my phone away, turning toward the youngest of my cousins. This is what I get for lingering in the Cuore manor halls. “Hi, Avery,” I say. “What are you doing awake?”
“Nice to see you too,” Avery drawls. He pushes back strands of dark hair that have been stylishly disheveled and peers at me with the trademark Cuore blue eyes.
Well, they’d skipped Forest, but Dante and their sister Julia have them as well.
“I should ask you why you’re skulking around here this late at night. When did you get back in town?”
I shrug. “Last month. And I’m skulking because I had to discuss business with Forest.” I wave dismissively. “I heard you started a nightclub. How’s that going?”
He scowls at me. “It’d be doing better if it wasn’t for Jayce Santos constantly getting in my way. Every time I do something, he’s right there trying to sabotage me. He’s not the only one in town, but he acts like it.”
“Jayce Santos?” I pretend not to know who he’s talking about.
Zane had been awfully close with him at Absinthe. Just the two of them, whispering to each other in that private booth.
“He’s a total dickwad,” Avery mutters. “He owns Absinthe, and he thinks he’s the only person allowed to have a club in New Valence. Like there aren’t countless other bars and clubs in the area! He’s focused on me.”
“Are the other nightclubs also dealing in drugs?” I ask skeptically. “Last I checked, Absinthe was owned by one of the cartels.”
If Avery didn’t want to anger Jayce, he could have avoided the illicit side of the business. He must have known that.
“Some of them!” Avery says, crossing his arms against his chest in a way that knocks a few years off of him with the way he’s sulking. “It’s not my fault people prefer the experience at The Basement.”
“So you sourced the better drugs.” I wonder if Zane ever partakes when he’s at the clubs. I hadn’t seen him snorting or swallowing anything at Absinthe, though, and that would have been the perfect place to do it.
No, a man like Zane would never let himself lose control in that way.
I imagine getting high, and Zane finding me like that. I’d be helpless, and he’d tie me down and growl in my ear—
No. Wait. I can’t get high or drunk or anything around Zane.
I’m going to kill him.
Shit.
“Well, good luck with the club thing,” I say. “Let me know if you want me to kill Jayce or something.”
Something flickers in his eyes. “No, I don’t want him dead. He’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Right.
There must be something in the New Valence air lately. The humidity is making everybody act weird.
This is why I’d rather be living in the desert.
I say goodbye to Avery and make my way out of the manor before anyone else can accost me. I don’t need my mother popping out of the shadows to question my actions.
The sooner I kill Zane, the sooner I can get out of this fucking city.
… But maybe I’ll see what he thinks of my latest present first.