Death & Dust (New York Crime Kings Book 7) Read online

  False Hope.

  “Hope,” I whisper, closing my eyes, desperate not to puke as exhaustion begins to submerge my body, taking me over inch by inch.

  I drag a heavy inhale in through my nose and hold. Feminine hands surround me, easing me out of Ted’s grip and across the backseat of the car. The smell of her skin is familiar. It’s a smell that surrounded me every night I slept in Skull’s large bed since Monique’s arrival. Strangely, like all of those nights, it brings me a bizarre kind of calm.

  “Yeah,” she whispers, her hand on my head, petting me like a child. “Hold onto hope.”

  I blow out the air I was holding as a harder body slides into the backseat and lifts my legs to rest underneath them. They both comfort me. Their fingers caressing, their palms rubbing, as if I’m a sick child in need of nursing.

  I have to hold on to hope…

  …It’s all I have to keep myself from shattering into a million pieces.

  One

  Emily

  False Hope

  Six weeks later

  Huss was right.

  All Joel did the night we escaped Skull’s compound was fill me with false hope and I suspect he knew that from the beginning.

  I should have known Jai was never going to show up at Hannah’s house…

  …because he’s dead.

  I give Joel, Monique, Ted, Huss, and Hannah points for their believability though. They seemed so certain he’d show. Or maybe they just weren’t ready to break my heart. Was I that pathetic looking? That desperate?

  Each morning during those long six weeks, Joel and Monique would come out of their bedroom before the sun rose and slip in beside me on the thin mattress of the fold out couch. Like me, they couldn’t sleep either, but at least they had each other to keep warm during the night.

  Sometimes, Joel would stroke my hair while Monique drew circles in the palm of my hand. Other times, she’d hum lightly, and he’d hold my hand against his bare chest, but despite their efforts, the bulk of my much-needed sleep evaded me as I mourned every day that fell away.

  As days went by, morale for Jai’s return fell, but Joel never faltered. He made me believe with my whole heart and soul that Jai was going to come through the rickety screen door any minute. I sat on the uncomfortable fold out couch day in and day out, moving only to use the bathroom. Hannah cooked me food and Monique sat with me until I ate it—I did, but I didn’t taste any of the flavors on my tongue.

  Six weeks I made them wait for Jai and…nothing.

  I begged them to wait six weeks and one day, but they refused. By then, even Joel was resigned and, finally, he admitted his brother was gone and he wasn’t coming back. I didn’t want to believe it, but I guess deep down, I knew it too.

  On the last day of the sixth week, Ted squeezed me against his lean body as Joel and Huss burned Hannah’s place to the ground, leaving no trace of us behind. Thanks to Huss, we had new identities. I was no longer Emily Sheppard of New York City, but Annalise Smith, an ex-tax accountant from Arizona. Monique, now Fiona Walker, was my younger sister, and the stunning new bride of Mr. Beau Walker, complete with a forged marriage certificate and everything. Beau was a name that didn’t suit Joel, but Huss stands by his claim that he didn’t get a say in the names we ended up with. At first, I didn’t believe him until he showed me the name on his new passport.

  Boris. Boris Bjorn of Las Vegas.

  Ted was Michael Quinn on paper and Hannah was Janet Sommars, both from the humble town of Tupelo, Mississippi—the birth place of Elvis Presley himself.

  I didn’t know how I was supposed to embrace being a tax accountant when I was terrible at math, but Joel told me our new identities didn’t matter much, that they were only to get us out of the United States and into Italy. I feared what he wasn’t saying. Our new identities would—hopefully—keep us hidden from the Twisted Sons and Skull too, if Jai didn’t end him.

  Regardless, I hated the new names. I hated what the new passports represented…what it meant.

  It meant my entire time spent with Jai was erased. Gone. Swept under the rug like it never even happened…we were so close.

  So.

  Damn.

  Close.

  I startle, pulled from my thoughts by a smooth finger as it’s dragged across the surface of the back of my hand. Lifting my head, I turn my attention to Ted, who offers me a small, friendly smile.

  “You okay?”

  I grip the straps to my carry-on handbag and pull it higher on my shoulder. “Fine, thanks.”

  He surveys me, giving me a quick onceover. I’m not stupid. Every single one of them—Joel, Monique, Ted, Hannah, and Huss—treat me like I’m a fragile piece of glass, in danger of shattering at a moment’s notice. Maybe I am.

  To be honest, I don’t know who I am anymore, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m teetering on the edge of a complete emotional breakdown, that I know for sure.

  I inhale through my nose, calming the thick, black sludge of emotion in my chest. Aboard a plane isn’t the best place to fall apart.

  “This is my seat?”

  Ted nods, brushing his palm over his dark navy tee. “That’s you.”

  I lower my bag and slip into the seat. While the others sort themselves out, I smooth my palms over my ripped skinny jeans and take a moment to glance around the plane. I knew Jai and Joel Stone had money, but I didn’t know how much exactly. When I first met Jai, he paid ten grand to save my life. He pulled two rolls of cash out of his pocket like it was no big deal and handed it over without breaking a sweat. He spent an additional two thousand dollars on getting me some toiletries while we were underground too, and God knows how much it cost him to acquire the narcotic he used to drug my opponent so I could beat her way back when.

  Both of his parents were doctors of some kind, their exact titles escaping me at the moment, and I assume they left their children hefty inheritances behind. Monique has money too, more than any normal person would see in six lifetimes, and she had Huss hack her fund and drain all her money into an untraceable offshore account. Together, she and Joel persuaded Huss, Ted, and Hannah into early retirement, and are moving us all to Italy.

  Italy.

  My dream destination…

  …where Jai wanted to get married.

  I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to hold back my tears. Italy no longer holds the appeal it once did, but Joel insisted I go too. In fact, he didn’t give me much of a choice. He said I could willingly join them and relax in first class or refuse. If I refused, he threatened to tie, gag, and stuff me in a crate for the duration of the long-haul flight from New York to Bologna, Italy—including a one hour stop in Munich. Even though I knew he couldn’t possibly crate me on a legitimate International flight, I chose to tag along anyway since there’s nothing left for me in America.

  Italy, despite the sadness it brings, is the perfect place for a fresh start.

  A small woman, a flight attendant, in her signature tight black, high-waisted skirt and black blouse peers down at me, the name “Heather” pinned to her chest. Heather’s bright red lips pull into a breathtaking smile, exposing her straight, whiter than snow teeth. Her lipstick is a gorgeous carmine-crimson shade and is as vibrant as the thin belt that breaks up the heavy darkness of her ensemble. I’ve always had nice teeth, surprisingly, but hers are perfect.

  “Excuse me, miss. Can I help you put away your bag?” Heather’s voice is melodic and strangely soothing.

  I hug it closer. “No, thank you.”

  I’ll be the first to admit that my bag is a little too obnoxious to be a lap bag, but everything I own is inside it. During my six-week stupor, Monique and Hannah went shopping for me. They bought me clothes and toiletries so I no longer had to drown in Ted’s tees and sweatpants or use soap that wasn’t mine. I love everything they chose for me and the thought of accidentally leaving it behind when we land is unsettling. Besides, holding my bag on my lap and toying with the straps prevents me from tak
ing out my anxiety on what little fingernails I have left.

  Heather angles her head, the smile on her face suddenly forced and uncomfortable. Had I zoned out? Do I look as unstable as I feel on the inside? Her black, white, and red neck scarf draws my attention. It reminds me of a shirt Jai wore once…

  We were so fucking close. How could he?

  “It’s a requirement that your carry-on baggage is secured in the compartment bins before takeoff.”

  I open my mouth to insist I keep ahold of my bag, only to close it when Joel steps out from behind the attendant and reaches around, taking my bag in his large hand. Heather leans away from him until he steps completely into her view, towering over her even though she’s wearing her high Piccadilly heels. Her eyes quickly skim over his tattooed arms, admiring each rise and depression, before settling on his face. His face. I turn my head away, fighting the urge to grimace. Every time I look at him, my heart splinters. He looks so much like Jai.

  “She wants to hold her bag, but we—”

  “It’s my baby sister’s first time flying,” Joel cuts in, opening the compartment well above my seat to stuff my bag inside. “She’s a little anxious.”

  “Well, she’s lucky to have such a caring brother looking after her.”

  I roll my eyes. Every second stop we’ve made on the way to the plane, Joel has been hit on by different airport staff—and passengers too. I get it, he’s hot, fit, and heavily tattooed, but Jesus Christ. Can’t a guy catch a flight in peace?

  “She sure is.”

  I cut my eyes at him as Joel takes his black cap off and runs his fingers through his short coal hair. I listen to him work his charm, the attendant lapping up his “concerned older brother” charade.

  Eventually, the flight attendant reaches out and touches his forearm, requesting he take his seat and offering her services, should he need them. When he thanks her, she smiles, her hazel eyes glistening brightly, and saunters off.

  “You okay, Em?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Ugh. How many times have I said those two words in the last six weeks? Too many. I turn my head to look out the window. I’m mad at him for getting my hopes up, for not letting me begin my grieving process weeks ago.

  “Hey.” Joel’s knees click as he crouches. “Look at me.”

  Reluctantly, I do as I’m told and meet his dark stare, my heart squeezing.

  “I know you hate me for letting you believe he was coming back, but that belief kept me going too…I thought he’d show up, Emily. I truly did.”

  Tears well in my eyes as overwhelming sadness leaks from my bones and poisons my blood, making my skin tingle all over.

  Joel places his hand on my knee, a comforting gesture. “We’re going to Italy,” he says, his voice rough and raspy. “And we’re going to live our lives the best we can, all right? We’ll get through this together. As a family.” He clears his throat. “It’s what Jai would’ve wanted.”

  He gently squeezes my knee before drawing himself to full height. Snagging the hem of his black tank top, he lifts it to swipe the fabric over his face and drops it with an exhale, as if one swipe of his shirt refreshed him.

  He smiles at me, clenching his cap in his hands. “Kick your feet up and relax. First class isn’t the worst place to sit on your very first plane ride.”

  Joel flicks my bare shoulder and turns away. I watch as he sits in his seat and leans toward Monique. She beams at him, tucking her long, blonde hair behind one ear, and he plants a kiss on her cheek. A pang of longing strikes my ribcage and its sadness echoes throughout my hollow shell.

  I think Jai and I would’ve had the best life together…

  …we were so close.

  Two

  Emily

  New Life

  One Year Later

  I close the spreadsheet with a relieved exhale and lean back in my big leather office chair.

  Finally, next month’s wine flavors are named and logged, ready to be printed onto their respective labels in the morning.

  Turning my chair, I glance around my over-stated office. We’ve come a long way since the storage shed we started in nine months ago. When Joel purchased a vineyard, and a rundown winery to accompany it, I chastised him for throwing his money away. To my judgmental surprise, Joel knew a lot about business. The marketing, the investments, and the risks, he knew exactly what decisions to make in order to pull his newly purchased winery out of the ground, inspiring me in the process.

  With Huss, Ted, Hannah, and I in his employ, Joel rebranded a tarnished winery and turned it into a lucrative business. I took notes from the beginning, learning everything I could about the process—marketing, logistics, and even the distribution. By the time Ted, Huss, and Hannah moved on, Joel and I were able to employ locals and open an onsite headquarters.

  I never thought I’d be vice president of a winery, but here I am.

  If it weren’t for Stone Vineyards and Winery, I’d have been consumed by my grief a long time ago. I owe everything to Joel and Monique for allowing me to use their investment as my distraction. Because of them, I was able to start over, to find a new passion, and support myself.

  I paid back whatever I used from Jai’s accounts and cut up the cards. With my own money, I bought a car and built a beautiful home on the other side of the vineyard to give Monique, Joel, and little Jake their space. They are new parents, after all.

  I shut my computer down and gather my things into my handbag. On my way out of my office, I glance at the large, glass clock on the wall.

  Six p.m.

  A short day for me. Normally, I’m here until my eyelids weigh a ton and I can no longer hold them open, until exhaustion overcomes me. It’s easier to sleep then and I’m too tired to dream. While I can protect myself from thoughts of Jai by making myself busy during the day, night is a whole different story.

  If I dream…it’s him I see.

  I see Skull too.

  I shudder and close my eyes as I step away from my office threshold and into the narrow hall. I close the door behind me and lean against the wood with a deep inhale through my nose, desperate to dispel the bubbles of panic in my chest. I hate that Skull still has power over me. I hate that the thought of him makes me uncomfortable even though he’s no longer a threat.

  “Miss Smith?”

  I gasp, my eyes shooting open as my heart slams against my ribs and squeezes painfully. I clench my chest. “Maria, you scared me.”

  She reaches out with her slender fingers and places her hand against mine, directly above my heart.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I shake my head, swallowing my panic. “It’s fine.”

  Maria is our cleaner, and every evening at five p.m., when everyone else has gone home for the day, she’s here, vacuuming the floors and wiping down the desks. Tonight is no different.

  She moves her hand away as I smooth my sweaty palms down the front of my dark plum sheath dress.

  “I completely forgot you were here,” I say, mustering a warm smile.

  Setting her vacuum down, she pats dust off her chambray blouse and asks me if I’m okay. It’s a question I’ve grown tired of being asked over the past twelve months.

  “Yes.” I wave my hand like it’s no big deal. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.”

  I’ve always liked Maria. I knew I wanted her to work for us the moment she walked into the interview room. She exudes positivity and gives off a warm “motherly” vibe that relaxes me every time I see her. Not to mention, she brought the most delicious Zuppa Toscana dish to her interview since it took place around lunch.

  Joel didn’t want her to work in the office as a cleaner, but as a live-in nanny for Jacob instead, but Monique wasn’t comfortable with a stranger walking around their home, regardless of how adorable and friendly she is. He argued that Maria was every sweet TV grandma ever—and I agreed—but Monique felt she was capable of running her house on her own. She is. She’s a better wife and
mother than I could ever be. I admit I was worried at first, given her age, but Monique is a natural, like being a mother has always been her sole purpose in life.

  “You’re off to dinner now? Ross has been raving about it all week,” she says, her heavy Italian accent coming in thick. She beams widely at me, excitement reflecting in every inch of her face.

  Rosario Cioni—or, Ross—is Maria’s eldest son, and she’s been trying to set us up on a date since he dropped her off for her interview, much to Joel’s dismay. Ironically enough, he’s always telling me to go out more, to enjoy my life, and make friends, but when I do, it’s met with nothing but hostility. He treats me like he treats his younger sister, Jessica. Only, I’m a grown woman, not a teenager, but to him, no one is good enough for me. I should be honored that he thinks so, but when the only person good enough for me is dead…well, no one stands a chance.

  “It should be fun,” I lie. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

  I’m not.

  I only agreed to have dinner with her son because she trapped me with a delicious tiramisu one evening and, with her pleading, golden eyes, guilted me into agreeing. Only a heartless monster could disappoint Maria. She’s a human version of a puppy.

  “He’s a gentleman. Full of charm.” She smiles. “Who knows, maybe you become my daughter-in-law someday soon.”

  I flinch, my heart taking a dive. She means well, I know she does, and I shouldn’t take it to heart, but…could she be anymore obnoxious?

  I don’t ever want to get married.

  I don’t even want to date.

  I want Jai or no one at all.

  I force myself to smile and laugh through my offense as heat rushes into my cheeks, hitting me with the urge to cry. It’s nothing against Maria, her son, or her family, but the thought of letting any of them into my life on an intimate basis makes me sick to my stomach. I have my family and we’ve been to hell and back together. To make room for someone else is to push them out…