Page 22 of Wicked


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“Repeat yourself, but this time leave a name.” I keep twisting the blade.

“I-I don’t know! Ok—” I lean down this time so I’m eye level with him. His eyes are blue, but not like Poppy’s. They’re more like the color of the bottom of an old pool floor after it has been left all winter.

“Do I look like the kind of man who doesn’t know how to make your final minutes in this world feel like hours?” I lean in closer. “I can think of forty-two ways that I could kill you, and none of them are quick.” My thumb flies to the inside of his right eye and I sink it into the socket, watching as blood spills over my hand. “Now. Tell me a name, and I’ll make sure I won’t pay your family a visit.”

“We don’t touch family,” Tony whispers from behind. “You gonna tell him we don’t touch family?”

Victor doesn’t miss. “He seems busy. Are you?”

“Shit, man…” Tony mutters, stepping back.

“Okay—shit!” His bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know a name! H-he had a tattoo on his face. A cross. He drove an expensive car. I swear that’s all I know!”

I shove him away, pulling out my gun from my holster and unloading three rounds into his skull then wiping the tip of my gun against my suit. “We need to figure out who the fuck these motherfuckers are, right after I go babysit your kid.” I turn, waiting for both Victor and Tony to follow me to the waiting black SUV. “What?”

“Nope—” Tony, who is apparently Ruby’s favorite uncle, shakes his head, rubbing his slightly overweight belly. “You are a real fucking problem.”

Victor laughs, patting him on the back while making his way to me. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a tiny tin, popping it open and offering me a cigar. “Proud of you, son.”

I didn’t do it for his pride.

I didn’t think.

Tony gets into the car that’s parked behind the Range Rover, just as Victor leans in, handing me the keys. “I want you at that lake house tonight. Watch our girl.” I wrap my fingers around them, watching as he heads to his parked Maserati. Rounding the SUV, I put the car into reverse and do just that…

Go watchmygirl.

But not because it’s for him… or even me.

I slow the SUV to a stop, pulling up the emergency brake when it won’t stop rolling down the deep-set driveway. This is hardly the average lake house, but I don’t know what I was expecting since I know the kind of money this family swims in.

I take the keys out of my pocket and cut the headlights, sitting there in silence. I need it. The silence between all of the noise that I’d walked. Even thinking back to my initiation, I should have known better. Known that there was more to why Victor took Poppy and me in. That kind of charity just doesn’t exist in our world. Everything is a transaction. The worst of it all is that I can’t tell fuckinganyonewhat was said to me that night. The night I walked through the chapel’s doors before cutting myself open and bleeding over an Angel card.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell anyone. No one except for those who were present, that is…

I shove the door open, my shoes hitting the soft blades of grass. There’s a large tree planted in the center of a wraparound driveway that directs you around a lake house constructed of glass walls and deep stained wood. There are three floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the front, with a ceiling-less porch that hugs around the entire box style building.

I walk straight past one of the soldiers who is standing at the front door. He bows his head and I offer him a tight smile. I don’t recognize him, but then that’s not uncommon.

His hand reaches for the gold handle, but I shake my head. “No. I’ll go around.” It’s a full moon, so it wasn’t as dark as it otherwise usually would be. A bright glow bounces off the glass walls, which I quickly realize aren’t glass but mirrors. The music becomes louder as I take a left turn to the side of the house. There’s a large area of grass, but behind that is an abundance oftrees. When I hit the final corner, I pause in my footsteps, taking in the scene.

Fuck me. It’s nothing like the parties I went to back home in Detroit. The lake is down below, with a long jetty that stretches out into a dark bed of water. In the far distance, you can see other lights from houses on the other side, but it is secluded enough to know that no one can see you.

Or hear you.

Goose bumps prickle the back of my neck as I shove my hands into my suit pockets. Fucking hate wearing this thing. It’s definitely something I will need to get used to. If ever.

Wu-Tang thumps through the speakers, and little lights hang above in the trees before leading toward the jetty. The yard spreads out wide enough to not seem so congested, but there aren’t that many people here. It’s clearly an invite-only party.

My eyes land on Poppy, who’s sitting on a lounge chair beneath a large tree, laughing at whatever that girl who is sitting beside her just said. I know who it is, Betty Peterson, a.k.a. Ruby’s BFF. The music isn’t loud, but there’s an air of uncertainty that hovers over the space. I still don’t know why Victor called this party, but I’m sure that by the end of it, we will all know.

“You know you’re painfully obvious…” she says from behind me. Clearly, she’s drunk. Her voice slow and dripping with liquor. She must come closer because I can feel the heat of her body on my back. I keep my eyes on Poppy. Sure, I’d jump in front of a bullet for the brat behind me, but my sister is still my priority. “How does it feel to not have control of me here?” She’s drunk. Too drunk.

I follow her slow movements as she rounds the front of me, taking the step down and looking up at me from a bent head. On any other occasion, I’d fuck the stupid out of her, but right now, she’s just pissing me off.

Her swollen lips wrap around the top of the bottle, and I watch as she tilts her head back and swallows.

Without unlocking my eyes from her, I reach for the frosted glass of Grey Goose, removing it from her hands.

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