Brutal (36 page)

“Is Tony giving you problems?”

“No more than usual,” I say, laughing. “I’ll handle Tony.”

“I know you will. So, how’s the memory?”

“Still sketchy,” I say. “But I’ll get there. Say I was to say yes to your offer. How would that work, exactly? I haven’t put in the school, and I haven’t been a model citizen, so what strings are you pulling?”

“You’d be a liaison,” he says. “And as for the strings? You let me worry about that.”

“I’ll consider it,” I say, really unsure about the offer.

“Venessa,” he says. “You can’t go on like you’ve been, unprotected, hiding in the shadows, using drugs on these people. Its pure luck you’ve survived this long. You and Rogan have both changed in the short time you’ve known each other. Why continue the risk? Join us, get your justice, and just have the back up when you do it.”

“This is about him, isn’t it?”

“It’s about both of you.”

“Then my answer is yes. For him, though, this is for him. I just hope I get a learning curve,” I say.

Because, yeah, that about sums it up. I know this is what Rogan would want, but is it what I would want? He likes rules, I don’t. He lives for justice. I like to pick and choose who gets it. He would do anything for me, I know that. I also know if we keep up as we have been, with him turning a blind eye to what I’m doing, eventually he’d be forced to choose. I can do this for him. Like the Captain says, I’ll still get my justice. I’ll just have back up. It makes sense, and gives me a lot to consider.

My musings are cut short when Rafe flies in my room, dripping with sweat and looking straight up menacing. Rogan is right behind him and we’re all standing here waiting for him to speak but his chest is heaving, his eyes are blood shot. Whatever happened isn’t good and for the first time since I lost my family, my fucking blood ran cold. In my bones, I know the answer, I fucking know it.

“Rafe? Where’s Macy?”

“Gone,” he says. “Gone.”

Then all Hell breaks loose.

I
was wrapping up with the nurse on duty, making sure Angel had all of her papers, instructions, medicine, and follow up appointment. It’s probably my fault it took so long, since I asked everything twice. I just wanted to be sure, and I was giving the Captain a few minutes alone with her. He told me he wanted to approach her about teaming up with Rafe and me, and as fucking stoked as I am about it, I don’t know how she’ll take it. On one hand, I don’t want her to think I’m clipping her wings, but on the other, I need her safe. There’s safety in numbers. It’s a good compromise in my book. She can adjust to having to play by the rules, I know she can. I gather up all of the shit I need to get her home, when Rafe flies out of the elevator, and literally runs right past me to Venessa’s room, so I follow.

I look at Venessa, who’s staring at Rafe. I’ve never seen this look on her. If I had to name it, I’d call it dread.

Rafe looks like he’s either going to pass out or flip out, but he came to her room for a reason, and I can only think of one. Apparently, she caught on before I did.

“Rafe?” she asks. “Where’s Macy?”

“Gone,” he says, breathing heavy. “Gone.”

A mask comes over her face. This mask scares the fuck out of me. No, it’s not a mask it’s the face. The face that only Kharma wears.

She immediately grabs her shoes and phone and approaches Rafe, eye to eye.

“Tell me,” she says. “All of it.”

“Went to get her, I needed to apologize—“

“Rafe!” she snaps. “I don’t give a fuck about that! What happened when you got there?”

“Her door was busted,” he starts. ”She struggled. She fucking fought like a hellcat, by the looks of things. Two, maybe three, men were involved. Left her purse, took her phone.”

“Blood?”

“Some,” he says. “Fuck.”

“When do you think they took her?”

“Sometime between 6 and 8 am,” he says. “I drove by at 5:30 to make sure she was secure, and I was back at nine because I wanted to see—“

“Enough,” she says, glancing at her phone. “I have to go to the club.”

“Venessa,” says the captain. “Let’s handle this together. We just talked about a team, right? Let’s do this the right way.”

“I’m not involving you in this,” she says. “Not when it’s Macy. The rules do not fucking apply when it comes to Macy.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“You can either follow me, or stay here,” she says. “I’m going to suit up. Rafe, you comin'?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.”

She walks up to both of us, and looks us both directly in the eyes.

“Fuck the rules,” she says. “I’m out for blood. I’m going to tear the city apart until I find her, and I will fucking destroy anyone who tries to stop me. You both better be on board with that before we leave this room. Decide now.”

“Fuck the rules,” says Rafe.

“I got your back,” I say.

“Let’s go,” she says, walking out with purpose. We both follow her lead, because if you’re going to fuck the rules, she’s the one you want to roll with.

The trip to the club was a silent one. She spent that time making calls, sending texts, and I’m afraid to ask what she’s setting up. I’m her back up, so I ain’t saying shit yet. Rafe just studied her, almost seeing her for the first time. Venessa has all these sides to her. Kharma doesn’t. She has one side. You don’t want to find yourself on it.

She unlocks the door to the club and Max, Tony, and Julian Perret are already there, waiting.

She doesn’t speak, she passes them, and heads to the locker room. Rafe looks ready to follow, I know I am, but Max and Tony have other ideas.

“She okay?” asks Max. “She looks pale.”

“She’s solid,” says Rafe. “Fucking stone cold.”

“She’s ready for battle,” I say, and everyone nods in understanding.

“Good, because trouble's coming,” says Max. “Tonight.”

“You two off duty?” asks Tony.

“Yeah,” we say in unison.

“I have everything secure,” says Julian. “I need to speak with her briefly, then I’ll go.”

“Speak to her about what?” I ask, looking at Tony, because that fucker knows. He always does.

Tony nods at him to go ahead.

“She’s requested her living will,” he says casually, although he has the decency to look pissed about it. “It’s prepared and ready for her to sign, with witnesses.”

“Living will?” asks Rafe, confused. Tony won’t look at either of us now.

“Fuck!” I say to Tony. “You fucking knew about this?”

Tony nods, looking as destroyed about it as I do.

“She’s requested, in the event of her death, that all of her holdings belong to you, Detective,” says Julian. “With a private allowance going to Ms. Kowalski.”

“Tonight?” asks Rafe, changing the subject. “How do you know its tonight?”

“Because he fucking called me and told me,” Max says, seething.

“You told Venessa?” I ask, looking at Max directly.

“No,” he says. “Tony did.”

“She needs to be prepared for any eventuality,” he says.

“Jesus,” I say. “I know what she’s doing.”

I feel like my life, or what’s left of it, flashed before my eyes. She doesn’t plan on coming back to me. She’s going to give herself up in exchange for Macy, die trying, or whatever other crazy shit she has going through her head. She’s trying to shut me out. Not going to happen. Over my god damned dead body, she is.

F
rom the hospital to the club, I made several arrangements. While I made those arrangements, I made sure the app tracker wasn’t functional. The first text was to Rafe, who was actually sitting next to me in the truck. I asked him to send me the sketch copy, because I need to confirm my kill. He promises to have it to me within the hour, so I’ll need to stall. The second was to Julian, asking him to prepare my living will, and to retrieve an item from my locker. The third was to Tony, asking him to keep the details of the extraction quiet, and to leave the key to his Beamer in my locker. The final was to Rafe again, asking him to be ready when I needed him to get Macy out, and also to not tell Rogan I’m gone until I send him the location, or all bets were off.

The final was to Macy. I kept it simple.
‘I’m coming for you. Tell me how to find you.”
 Within seconds, I got my answer. An address. An address I’ve never forgotten. Who forgets the address to their childhood home?

Like I did those few short years ago, when plotting the death of the two men that took everything from me, I took out the latex cat suit that I’ve kept in my locker. I’ve worn this suit only one other time. I’m wearing it tonight, because I plan to coat myself in blood and I hate when my good clothes get stained. There are no weapons to be hidden here.

When I first started coming here, I met a man, in his early 40s maybe, his name was never shared. But I saw the way he watched my marks, because I think he was watching them, too. I suppose I didn’t disguise my hatred as well as I thought I had. He approached me one night, and handed me a necklace. He told me vengeance had a price and, if done right, vengeance was worth it. I never saw him again, but I did keep the necklace. That necklace was the garrote I used to slit their throats, and watching them die was beautiful. Revenge is beautiful. I’ve never lost sleep over their deaths, and never will. It’s the fact that they had ever lived in the first place that haunts me. Many nights I wonder what ever happened to that man. He gave me a gift, and I’ll be forever grateful for it.

Looking in the mirror, going over options and mentally preparing yourself for war isn’t as hard as you would think. Here’s what I know as fact: I’m getting Macy back, and I’m prepared to die to see it done. Fact: Rogan is my mate, and not everyone gets one, so in this I’ll count my blessings. I’ll love him in this life and in the next, but I have resigned myself to losing him to save Macy. Fact: I’m going to kill tonight, and there is no limit on how many lives I’ll take to secure the lives of the people I care about. That’s who Kharma is, but don’t you dare think that Venessa isn’t totally on fucking board, too. 

Making sure the app tracker is still off, I tuck Tony’s key and phone into the cleavage in my suit, and make my way out to meet Julian. Signing needs to be brief, because I need Tony and Julian’s help to get out without being detained by Rogan.

When I enter the main room of the club, the situation is hostile, to say the very least. Rogan is hanging on by a thread. I care about these people, but I can’t worry about that right now. This is bigger than my fucking feelings. I have no fucking feelings anymore. I have lives to save, lives to take, and the sooner I leave here, the sooner I can make that happen.

“Julian,” I say. “I’m ready.”

“Angel,” he says. “We need to talk, now.”

“Julian,” I say, putting my hand out, asking for the papers.

“Everything is highlighted,” he says. “Max and Tony will act as witnesses.”

“Angel,” he says. “Don’t fucking sign those papers.”

I ignore him and look for the X’s, highlighted in yellow, and sign. He doesn’t stop me. There could be twenty pages or two hundred, but all I can think about is death. How many will I kill tonight? I should be worried that my heart is beating with excitement and not with fear, but I’m not. Because this is right. This is going to happen.

I hand the stack back to Julian and nod, turning from him. There, that’s done.

“Angel,” he says, with a hitch in his voice. “Where the fuck are you right now?”

“Rogan, man,” says Rafe.

“Fuck you, man. Angel, don’t walk away from me.”

I keep walking, hoping Rafe holds up his end, and keeps him there, or I’m fucked. I don’t want to knock him out, but I will if I have to. I’d knock out every man in this room if I had to.

“Give her a minute, man,” he says. “Shit.”

“Time's up,” he argues. “Venessa, turn around.”

I don’t turn around. I’m ready to walk back to the lockers and hit the back door Tony left unlocked for me.

“Give her some space, Detective,” this from Tony.

“Fuck you, too, Gallo,” he says. “She’s mine.”