26. Hyacinth
TWENTY-SIX
HYACINTH
As soon as Chrys opens the hotel door, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug.
She’s safe, and warm.
Then I pull back and glare at her. “Why did you open so fast? You should have checked it was actually me.”
“I looked through the peephole,” Chrys retorts. “And only you knock like that.” She takes a step back. “Come in. Step into my humble abode.”
The hotel is a cheap one on the edge of the city, and I don’t see any of her belongings anywhere. The single bed has sheets that are worn thin from years of washing, with obvious discoloration on one side.
Chrys was smart and drew the curtains shut, at least, but I don’t like how unsecured the entire place is. Nobody had even stopped me from strolling past the front desk and to the stairs.
“This place is a dump,” I say. “Why didn’t you get one of the nicer ones?”
“He didn’t even let me grab my purse. I had to borrow money from the neighbor,” Chrys says with a brittle smile. “Oh, his name is Mateo Jimenez. The guy who grabbed me and marched me out.”
I pull out my wallet and hand all the cash to her. “Here.”
She takes the money.
Mateo Jimenez. He wouldn’t have been working alone, but I’ll start with the easiest one. “I’ll get into your condo and grab the essentials for you.” It doesn’t solve the problem of needing a new place to stay, but it’ll be easier once she has access to her money again.
“Hold on.” Chrys gives me a critical once-over. “What have you done to my clothes this time? And your hair? You look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket or some shit.”
I reach up to touch my hair.
It’s still disheveled from where Zane had been playing with it.
My skirt is dirty because I’d knelt on that rickety old dock.
“I took the red eye into the city,” I say. “I can’t be expected to look my best under those circumstances.”
“Uh huh. You’re all dressed up, too,” she notes. “What were you up to when I called you, brother dearest?”
“Really?” I raise my brows at her. “I rush here to rescue and/or avenge you, and you want to focus on what I was doing? We should be focusing on the details of everybody involved. I wouldn’t want to make any mistakes.”
“I want a distraction.” Chrys touches my arm, then takes a few steps back. “But fine. Some asshole came to the condo, told me I was being evicted, grabbed me, pulled me out of the place, and that was that. No keys, no purse, nada.”
I can feel the blood boiling under my skin. I’m going to need to make somebody else’s blood leave their body.
“Did they hurt you?” I ask in curt syllables. “I’ll make sure to repay it a hundred fold. Before I do the usual, of course.”
She shakes her head. “I’m humiliated and pissed off more than anything. What the hell happened, Hyacinth?”
I stay silent.
This is my fault.
If I’d done what Forest had asked, she’d still be in her nice cushy condo, enjoying her evening.
She wouldn’t be wondering if she’ll have to start over from scratch.
She wouldn’t be in this fucking dump of a hotel.
We stare at each other. I keep my hands still and my gaze steady. I’m not giving anything away.
But Chrys frowns at me. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask.
“The fucking mask. Pretending everything is all right, even though we both know it’s not. That’s what you looked like whenever…” She trails off.
“Whenever what?” I press, and even I’m surprised by how harsh my voice is.
“Never mind,” she says. She punches me lightly in the arm. “You keep blowing me off. Tell me what’s going on. You’ve been weird this entire month.”
There’s no reason to involve her in any of this, except she’s already involved.
And if I can’t talk to Chrys, who can I talk to? She’s the one person in the world who understands exactly what my life is like.
I bend my head forward. “I found somebody who wants to know me.” I let out a bitter laugh. “But it’s a bad idea. Because of how I get when I’m into somebody, and also he’s… he’s the one I was supposed to… Well, Forest got impatient with me for failing all my job interviews.”
Chrys blinks at me. “Oh. Ohh.”
“Is that all you have to say?” I demand.
“Well, no. I have plenty to say, including, what the fuck and why didn’t you tell me?” She hits me in the arm again, a little harder this time. “How did that even happen? Come on. Tell big sis all about it, then you can go deal with the big, bad men who are going to ruin my reputation.”
“Big sis?” I rub my arm and pretend her blow hurt. “You’re older by an hour at most. And there isn’t much to talk about. He’s hot. He’s good in bed. He…”
He wanted to do a fun activity with me.
He wants me to stand by his side as a partner.
And I’d ruined it all by rushing off to rescue my sister.
So much for me being perfectly devoted.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re more important,” I say, even though it hurts me to utter those words.
“Duh. But that doesn’t mean someone else can’t be important, too.” Chrys’s eyes narrow. “Did you tell Lionel? Because he’s been weird. Everyone has been weird, and I can’t get a straight answer out of them on what’s going on.”
“Lionel knows something.” I shake my head. “But he’s focusing on himself. I think there’s somebody he has his eye on. I feel sorry for whoever that person is.”
“So do I. But that doesn’t tell me anything. You’re doing that thing.” Chrys gestures to the armchair in the room. “Go. Sit. Tell me all about it, then we can go get my shit.”
I sigh, but I sit down. It’s only once I’m off my feet that I realize how tired I am, too.
I’d gotten a few hours of sleep on the plane, but it wasn’t exactly restful.
“I don’t know,” I say with a hint of amusement. “It’s not exactly safe for virgin ears.”
“My ears are probably the only virgin holes in my body,” she shoots back. “Now tell me.”
So I do.
I tell her about how I’d first met Zane, how I’d tried over and over to kill him only to fail, how I’d decided not to do it after all.
I don’t hold anything back.
When I’m done, she hums, watching me from where she’d settled at the foot of the bed. “Wow. So you fell for a closet case you were supposed to off, and now you’re obsessed and Forest is pissed at you,” she summarizes.
“Basically.” I lean back into the chair, and I feel a lot lighter than I had before. Still tired, but not as weighed down. “It’s my fault you’re in this dump right now. It’s my fault…” I bite my lip before continuing, “It’s my fault if Mom tries to pull you into the family business again.”
Chrys scoffs at me. “She can try. It won’t work. I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself. She made sure of that.”
“Really?” I level a gaze at her. “If she put you in a dark room again, you’d manage to get out of it unscathed?”
“I don’t plan on being caught in a dark room.” But I don’t miss the unease in her expression. “Look, Hyacinth. You can’t let her hold us all hostage for the rest of your life. Fuck her, fuck Forest, fuck all of this. You want this guy? Go for it. Lionel and I can hold our own.”
I want to believe her so badly.
I don’t trust Mom or Forest to leave her alone.
But like Chrys said: Mom made sure we could take care of ourselves.
And she made sure I knew how to take out anyone who inconvenienced me.
Even if that includes her.
The two men who’d occupied Chrys’s condo were a joke. I easily disposed of them, and dropped their corpses into the neighboring dumpster. I don’t care if the bodies get discovered. Let Forest deal with the mess.
The last man—Mateo Jimenez—is apparently a frequent flyer at the Roi de Pique. His colleagues had helpfully told me that.
I’d normally wait until he was somewhere less public, but I can’t be bothered to wait that long, and I know if I leave the body on the Roi’s property, it won’t be discovered.
The Spade Family wouldn’t want that kind of publicity, after all. They’re laying low after some fiasco a few years back. I’m not clear on the details, because mostly I don’t care what the other crime families get up to.
I make my way through the casino. It’s still early afternoon, so the crowds are thin, and I have no trouble spotting my target sitting at one of the blackjack tables.
Jimenez is broad, wearing a leather jacket that is better suited for the casino AC than the desert climate.
I need him to get away from the crowds.
I can’t even do my usual ploy of seducing him, because I look too much like Chrys. He would recognize me instantly.
It means I end up sitting at one of the slot machines, staring at Jimenez from afar, for over an hour. I’m contemplating simply walking up to him and stabbing him when he finally leaves the table and walks in the direction of the bathrooms.
Perfect.
I follow him down the hallway.
There’s a camera aimed in our direction, but I keep my face angled away and hurry along.
Jimenez stops at the bathroom door and jiggles the knob. “Locked? What?” He pounds on the door. “Hey! I can hear you in there. Open up!”
Somebody shouts back, “Occupado, asshole!”
It’s followed by a loud moan.
I bite my lip to suppress a laugh. Of all the days. Jimenez grumbles, but he goes into the women’s restroom right next door instead.
He must really, really need to piss.
I wait a few seconds before following him inside.
The only occupied stall is the one he’s using. How lucky for me.
I grip my wire garotte and wait until I hear the piss hitting the porcelain before I go to the stall and kick the door in. Jimenez cries out and stumbles forward, catching himself on the edge of the toilet. His pants are around his ankles, his pasty ass pointed out at me.
“What the fuck?” Jimenez looks over his shoulder.
I wrap the wire around his neck and pull tight, while I kick the back of his knee to force him down. He gasps and struggles, but he has no leverage, his dick is flopping around, and the wire is cutting into his neck. The smell of blood fills the air, mingling with the urine stench.
It takes less than a minute for him to die.
I wait a few extra seconds before assessing him as well and truly dead. Most of the blood dripped onto the toilet or into the bowl.
I unwind the garotte, close the stall. I clean the wire and stuff it back into my pocket, then I casually walk out.
Whoever is in the men’s room is still going at it. I silently thank them.
They made my job a lot easier.
I exit the casino, out into the bustling city street. This is the city that I thought would be my new home. The complete opposite of New Valence’s horrible humidity, the air is nice and dry. No mosquitos, no swamp, no Cuore family.
No Zane.
Ugh.
I try to drum up some sort of strong emotion for the casino walk, but the lights and the sounds aren’t drawing me in. The crowds of tourists are the same as in New Valence, but more focused on gambling away their meager funds.
I sigh and pull out my phone. I dial Forest.
He picks up instantly this time.
“Ready to finish the job?” Forest asks.
“I finished a job. I hope you weren’t attached to your goons.” I laugh to myself, remembering the image of Jimenez folded over the toilet. “I’m done, Forest. If you go after Chrys again, I’m going to murder you myself. Or I’ll just tell Mom and let her deal with you.”
I notice the pause.
Yeah, I thought so. He didn’t run this by her.
For all her faults, Mom would never allow Forest to hurt any of her children.
“I don’t know why you want Zane gone so badly,” I say. “He’s not getting in your way.”
“But I’d have better footing if he was gone,” Forest mutters.
I frown at that. “Why? You can’t expect to take over his businesses. If Zane’s gone, his friend Moore will take over, and they’d start a whole war against our family.”
I keep ambling down the boulevard, dodging the tourists who stop to take photos in the middle of the sidewalk.
“No. We’d partner up,” Forest says. “Moore’s a coward. He’ll take over, but he already agreed to—” He stops himself. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve ruined the deal anyway.”
Wait.
“You weren’t working alone,” I say, working through the information. “It wasn’t you who wanted this hit. It was—”
Forest hangs up on me.
The one who wanted Zane dead is Richard Moore.
And I left Zane with only his incompetent guards to protect him.
Fuck.