The Arrangement Anthology (78 page)

Time passes strangely in the next few moments. It feels like I’m in my body and watching from above at the same time. My steps from the elevator feel heavy and light. Contradictions flood me and I have no idea why. The cop’s words ring in my ear, his raspy, deep voice continues like a never ending echo. “The woman was a prostitute.”

I hear the sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor and continue quickly toward the bar. I don’t have any
alcohol wipes in my purse and my throat is too tight. Add to that the torrent in my stomach and if I don’t get a lemon in the next two seconds, I’m going to lose it.

The people around
me register as noise. I don’t know anyone, I don’t see anyone. I’m engulfed in my own personal hell that hovers around me like a cloud. As I step into the bar, a hand lands on the crook of my arm and yanks.

My
reaction is instant. I whirl around with my fist already balled, throwing all my weight into the swing with my arm. The man catches my fist in his palm and holds it for a second.

“Avery, calm down. Where the hell did you go? I need to get you out of here.” It’s Gabe. I can’t calm down enough to let out a sigh of
relief. My entire body is strung tight and ready to pop.

I nod at him and he lowers my arm to my side. “Come on. Back to Black’s before this mess gets bigger.”

I snap out of my stupor and shake my head. “No, I need to go here.” I hold up Sean’s card and Gabe plucks it from my fingers.

People move about us, murmuring about the dead woman in the Ferro suit
e. I hear their voices, and can’t block them out. “The man is a monster. They should just shoot him,” one woman says sternly as she walks by in a hurry.

A man passing in the other direction is grinning deviously, “That’s one way to get out of paying, huh? I always heard Ferro was a cheap bastard.”

The comments barrage me, and don’t stop. Each wave of insults is worse than the last. They hate him—everyone thinks he did it and Sean wasn’t even in the room.

My lips press together in a
twitchy way as I regain my composure enough to act. I spin on my heel to grab the asshole’s shoulder and tell him off, but Gabe sees the movement and stops me before I have the chance.

His hands land on my waist and he yanks me away. I want to turn and claw his face off. I’m fuming. It feels like someone ripped me open from sternum to navel, and I can’t tell if I want to
fight back or lay down and cry. “Stop it, Miss Stanz. Do not draw more attention to yourself.” Gabe hisses in my ear. “I’ll take you to this place, if this is where you want to go, but we leave now. No comments. You don’t know a damn thing, and if you tackle someone, I swear to God that I’ll taser your ass and throw you in the trunk. Got it?” The old guy is puffed up like he means business.

Attacking assholes won’t help Sean, so I nod. I didn’t expect Gabe to comply so easily, but I’m not about to ask
questions. He releases me, I follow him out a side door, and we shove past a mob of people trying to get inside. Reporters look at us and some flashes go off, but then they realize that we’re nobodies and drop their cameras to their sides. The chatter begins again and I hear more of the same. They’re condemning Sean and growing into a frenzy. I hear someone say that Amanda’s death was unnecessary and now this.

I turn and look at the guy. We make eye contact, but Gabe holds onto my arm and pulls me away. I don’t speak, but I wonder—what kind of life would Sean have had if Amanda
hadn’t killed herself and taken his only child? His personal hell is expanding, and this event will make it so much worse.

After Gabe deposits me in the back seat, he jumps in
the limo, and we’re off. We make it through the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel and back onto Long Island quickly. I stare out the window, watching lights blur by, lost in thought.

Gabe finally speaks up,
“Where were you?”

Glancing up at the mirror, I look into his old eyes. “Not in the room, if that’s what
you’re asking. I didn’t do this and neither did Sean. We were in the restaurant.”

He nods and grips the steering wheel tighter. “I noticed the rock on your finger. People saw you two?”

“Yeah, they saw us.” My voice is soft and my shoulders finally relax. I feel like a deflating balloon that was smacked too many times.

“Good, then this shouldn’t lead back to Black.”

I glance up at him and know—call it a gut instinct—that he’s wrong. This will lead back to Miss Black, and possibly everyone else. My lips part as my gaze narrows. The words don’t come out of my mouth, but he watches me. The old guy sees everything and I’m still an open book, unable to hide the thoughts rushing through my mind. The worry line between his eyebrows deepens. “Spit it out, kid. You’re thinking something, and if it affects all of us, you have to spit it out.”

I only say two w
ords, but he knows what I mean. “The bracelet.”

Gabe swallows so hard that I can hear it from the back seat. The man actually turns his head to look at me. “She crushed the black stone?” After our eyes lock, both wide with worry, I nod once. “Holy fuck.”

Gabe whips his head back around and accelerates, bobbing and weaving through traffic like his ass is on fire. He grumbles things to himself,
but he doesn’t turn back toward Black’s. Instead, he keeps his word and drives me to the strip club on Long Island where I’m supposed to meet Sean later.

I slump back into the seat and think of the ramifications of the broken bead and why Gabe didn’t know it was crushed. When I crushed the stone, he was there, smashing through the door and then pro
mptly pummeling Henry Thomas into the floor. My heart starts to race again. I never thought of having a faulty transmitter in my bracelet. Is that what happened to Mel? My God. I can’t imagine what would have happened if I crushed the stone and Gabe didn’t show up the night Henry went nuts. The thought sends a shiver down my spine and for once I keep my face expressionless as my mind drifts through the consequences.

If Gabe
didn’t show up and I was on my own, what would I do? The thought never occurred to me. I had this sense of security, that if anything went screwy all I had to do was crush that stone and help would arrive. It never felt like I was on my own, left to my own devices to defend myself, but it seems like that’s exactly what happened to Mel.

What would Mel do if help didn’
t come? She held her own on the streets long before I ever met her. The attitude she projects says
don’t screw with me
, so I can’t imagine who would—or why. It makes no sense. When Sean and I left, Mel was ordering a buffet from the room service menu. How’d she go from pigging out to fleeing, leaving behind a dead body on the floor?

I see the lifeless curled fingers poking out from under the sheet in my mind. I remember the massive amount of blood that soaked into the carpet around her. What
happened? Better yet, who was she? Why was she there and who killed her?

‘
Fuck’ is the right expression. We’re all screwed if this gets traced back to Black. I glance up at Gabe and try to keep my thoughts off my face. “Why didn’t her transmitter work?”

Gabe’s jaw is locked tight as he shifts his lower jaw from side to side. He’s livid, but I’m not certain of the reason. It could be fear of exposure or something worse. G
od, what could be worse? He lets out a huff of air and inhales again before looking in the mirror at me. “No clue.” That’s all he says before locking his jaw again.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as he looks away. It’s an
ominous feeling and I know he’s lying to me. There’s more going on than I’m aware of, a lot more.

We exit the expressway and drive down some side streets until we stop in front of a shack. Okay, calling the strip club a shack is kind. It’s just scary looking, complete with
a neglected façade and a decaying parking lot that’s turning to dust.

Gabe’s expression changes into a look of concern. “You sure this is where Mr. Ferro wanted you to go?”

I nod, gaping at the building with the same dumbfounded expression. “Yes.”

“It looks like the place is closed.”

Yeah, it does. There are only a few cars in the parking lot and the sign on the door is flipped to CLOSED. What the hell is Sean thinking? There’s only one way to find out. I move before Gabe snaps out of it, and open my door. My heels hit the gravel and I nearly twist my ankle, but I recover and straighten.

Gabe rushes toward me, and closes my door. We both stand there, shoulder to shoulder, and stare at the old building. “I think I should walk you inside.”

I think that he should, too. Honestly, the place creeps the crackers out of me, but Sean wouldn’t have sent me here if it wasn’t safe. My gaze drifts to the ring on my finger, and I know without a doubt that Sean asked me to come here to keep me safe. Although I want Gabe to walk me in, I don’t know what secrets Sean has hidden here and I don’t want to cause more trouble. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine. You can go back to Black’s.”

The old guy eyes me like I have a spine of steel and nods. He scratches his scruffy cheek and looks at the car. “I’ll tell Black that I didn’t find you—that you were already gone.”

“But what about the bracelet?” She’ll see that I was in the limo.

He shrugs. “I’ll make something up.”

I reach toward him and squeeze his forearm. It’s the closest thing to a hug that I can offer without him taking my head off. Well, not that I think Gabe would hurt me, but I want to reassure him in some way and it seems like the right gesture.

“Be careful. I don’t know what’s going on, but this feels wrong.” Gabe glances at my hand and then up
at my face. He has the perpetual frown he always wears and pats the top of my hand. “Trust your gut, kid.” That’s all he says before turning away. He doesn’t wait for me to go inside before driving away.

I watch the red tail lights disappear down the street and stand
there, alone, staring at the door to the strip club. I better head inside and find out why Sean sent me here.

My heart pounds a little faster as I cross the parking lot. The wind rustles the barren branches of the trees at the back of the building, making me look in the shadows for ominous figures. I’d planned on going inside and sitting in the back, blending in amongst the other patrons as much as possible, and waiting for Sean. It’s late and the place is empty, closed, so that plan’s tossed. When I walk inside, assuming the door is unlocked, everyone is going to look at me and wonder what the hell I’m doing here.

I need to grow some balls. I swear, it seems like everything scares me lately. Before I reach the door, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen. It’s Mel.

“Where are you?” I snap before she has a chance to say anything else.

“Driving in circles. Where are you?” Mel’s voice doesn’t have
the cool composure that she’s known for, which worries me.

I tell her where I am. “Get your ass out here now.” Mel agrees and the line goes dead. Pressing my fingers to my temples, I
try to fight off the compulsion to bang my head into the wall. Fuck it. I bang my forehead against the door and let the cold metal freeze my brain.

What have I done? How did I get mixed up with all this shit? I’m enough of an emotional basket-case without dead bodies. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, intending to steady myself to push open the door and waltz inside like I belong in this place, but that doesn’t happen.

Within a moment of resting my head on the door, it’s yanked open and I fall forward. My body slams into some guy. Strong arms catch me and for a second all I can see is a dark dress shirt with the top buttons undone, and a silver ring hanging around his neck. The guy straightens me up, holding me by my shoulders. His lips twist into a sexy smirk. “You okay?”

I finally get a look at his face and freeze. Holy shit, is that Trystan Scott? The guy is a legend. He’s the biggest rock star around, and the guy is standing in front of me. My eyes
widen and I manage to blink once. It can’t be him. No way. This has to be a double, or some sort of impersonator, for the club.

A dorky smile crosses my mouth and I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sean Ferro told me to come out here—”

The guy’s smile vanishes and he looks me over again. “You know Sean?” I nod. “And you willingly came here to see him?” He glances past me like there might be a militia hidden in the parking lot, holding me here at gunpoint.

I nearly laugh. He knows
Sean, that much is certain, because he doesn’t like him at all. I poke the guy in the chest and get in his face. Today’s been too long to deal with this twerp. “Listen, Trystan impersonator, I don’t have to tell you a damn thing. Now let me inside before I get mugged and Sean kills you and buries you out back.”

The smirk returns, but brighter this time. He’s trying not to laugh. “Uh, yeah, first things first—I’m not afraid of Sean Ferro, and second—I
am
Trystan Scott.” He glances down at my finger, which is still pressed into his chest, like I intend on kicking his ass myself, before looking back up into my face.

A stupid expression is frozen on my lips and suddenly I can’t speak. My eyes slowly widen as I recognize the dimples, the scar, and the
distinct traits of the rock star. His father beat the shit out of him when he was younger and the proof is forever on his skin. I’m caught between looking like an asshole and a crazy woman. Fuck. I need to pick one and just go with it. I drop my finger and place my hands on my hips and tilt my head at him. “Why would Sean send me to you, if you hate him?”

Trystan shrugs—I can’t believe it’s really him. This is totally weird.
“No idea. He does a lot of illogical shit that only makes sense in his twisted mind.” He lets his eyes rove over me once and spots the ring on my finger. His jaw drops as he points toward my hand. “No fucking way. Is that from Ferro?”

Now I feel naked. The way this guy looks at me, with such utter amazement
, is unsettling. I cover my engagement ring with my hand. “Yes.”

Something shifts and the amused smile returns. “Now you have to come in.” I glance up at him and wonder what made him drop his guard, but he clearly
has. Instead of being suspicious of me, he seems to like me. The change happened in a snap.

“I don’t get it.” Looking into those icy blue eyes, I can see that Trystan knows what I’m asking.

“Anyone that is capable of taming Sean Ferro is a force to behold. You’ve captured my attention, Future-Mrs. Ferro, which is difficult to do.” Trystan pushes the door open, extending his arm, and ushers me inside.