Beware Page 3

  Standing, Jonah looks me up and down from behind the counter, his eyebrows narrowed. “You… okay, sis?”

  “Me?” I question, giving him a quick look. “Oh, yeah. I’m good. Just couldn’t sleep well last night.” I pause on dumping the batter in the bowl. “Are… you okay?” I ask.

  He starts his walk toward the bathroom, removing his gaze from mine. “I’m good. Why do you ask?”

  I look over my shoulder. “Just asking. You seem bothered.”

  “Eh… just had a long night. Nothing to worry about.”

  Lies. “Okay.” I nod, forcing a smile, and he turns quickly, heading for the bathroom.

  ***

  Jonah leaves two-and-a-half hours later.

  As I hear him descend the stairs, I chew on my bottom lip, debating on whether I should follow him again or not. What I heard yesterday should be a warning to stay put, but I’m really, really worried.

  I heard him in the bathroom on the phone with Ace. He was upset, and his voice was laced with concern. He said things like, “they aren’t going to be happy,” and “they just might hurt us.”

  That’s enough for me to follow him, right? I don’t need anyone hurting my brother, and if they do, I want to be a witness. I want to rat them out if they cause him any kind of harm.

  I put on my big girl panties. I have to do this. For Jonah. He’s the only blood I have left. Although I was scared out of my damn mind last night after following him, I have to put my fears aside and do what I have to do.

  I hurry down the stairs just as Jonah pulls out of the parking lot. I jump into my car and roll away from my complex, keeping my distance from his black BMW.

  We aren’t going to the same place as yesterday. It’s taking much longer to get to wherever he’s going. He takes the ramp to get on the highway, and I follow his lead. It’s much easier to follow him. There are plenty of cars, so I know he’ll look over mine… at least I hope he does.

  After driving ten minutes on the highway, he takes an exit, and I creep after him. Two right turns, and he’s at his destination. He stops at an abandoned house on a rocky hill. Ace is already there; I see his car. I drive past, hoping he doesn’t see me roll by. I know where he is, so when I reach the gas station that’s less than a block away, I hop out of the car, but not before snatching my Taser out of my purse.

  I rush to the house, but there are more cars there now—the same SUVs from the day before. Crouching behind a cluster of bushes, I take a hard look, trying to figure out what’s going on.

  Jonah and Ace are sitting on the hood of Ace’s car. The men haven’t gotten out of their trucks yet. Jonah looks nervous. Ace looks as mellow as always. Sheesh. Does this guy ever react to anything?

  Finally, the men hop out of their trucks. One man slowly steps out of the back of a Hummer, a gun in hand. He’s wearing a white suit that contrasts against his tan skin. There’s a tattoo of what I now know is a snake on his wrist, just like the other men behind him. His hair is dark, but the grey streaks tell his age, and a broom-like moustache covers his mouth. No trace of a smile is on his lips, and I realize he must be their leader, the man that threatened my brother last night.

  I crouch even lower as they walk toward Jonah and Ace.

  Jonah straightens his back, meeting the man in the white suit’s eyes. Ace stays seated on his car, one foot perched on the fender. He looks as careless as careless can get.

  I can’t hear what they’re saying, but mouths are moving.

  Jonah is terrified. I see it in his eyes.

  The man is upset. Pissed.

  And then, what happens next seems to happen way too fast.

  One of the men grabs Jonah’s arm and drags him across the rocky road. He barks an order to him, and Jonah immediately drops to his knees. He’s facing my direction, but he’s not looking up. Ace hops off his car, finally revealing some sort of emotion. His eyes are wide, jaw locked, fists clenched.

  The man behind Jonah pulls a gun out from behind him, brings it up toward the back of his head, and just like that, he pulls the trigger. Jonah’s body falls to the ground. Blood leaks everywhere.

  It takes a while for me to realize what happened. I can’t believe what just happened. But when it registers—when I see his blood pooling around his fragile body and him lying there, lifeless—I scream.

  Loud.

  So fucking loud all the men look in my direction.

  And all of them are angry.

  Including Ace.

  Oh… shit.

  Seeing Jonah drop to his knees, lifeless, causes my heart to stutter. Seeing the thick blood spill all around him causes guilt to eat at my heart.

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” I shout.

  Then there’s a scream— a terrified, loud, girly scream.

  I look up quickly. When I see who it is, I can’t fucking believe it. She hops to her feet between a bed of bushes and runs away before she can get caught. I know she’s going to get caught.

  But I refuse to let it happen.

  Some of the men shoot after her. Luckily, they miss.

  Pablo only brought three men. Some would consider me outnumbered, but I’ve been in this situation too many times to lose. Three men against me is the equivalent to one man. Pulling out my G41, I rush toward the first man that goes after London and shoot him, right in the back of the skull. I go for the other two, who don’t even see me coming. Easy kill.

  All that’s left is Pablo.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Pablo hisses, his hands in the air.

  “I don’t make stupid decisions. You know that.”

  “You know if you kill me, there’ll be people coming to kill you. They know who I worked with last.”

  I debate on this, but I realize I honestly don’t give a fuck. Pablo is a good client, but after this, I know I won’t be able to trust him again. I can’t have any loose ends. He has to go. I shoot Pablo in the middle of the forehead before he can say another word. All that surrounds me is blood and dead bodies. Nothing new. I rush up the hill, hoping I’m not too late to catch her.

  I see her running towards an abandoned gas station. She’s running for her life. I hurry after her. She glances over her shoulder and screams, telling me to stay the hell away from her. I shout her name, hoping she’ll stop and listen. She doesn’t.

  When she makes it to her car, she fumbles in her pockets for her keys. She’s too frightened to dig them out. Her hands are shaking like hell. Good. It gives me time to catch up. Just as she finds them and presses the button to unlock the doors, she hops in and starts to close her door, but I get there just in time. I grab the door and yank it open. She screams, begging me not to hurt her.

  “Please!” she screams, backing toward the passenger seat. Her eyes are closed, like she’s prepared to die. Crouching down, I grab her wrists, but she jerks away. “Please! No!” she wails.

  “Stop!” I shout.

  “No! Please. I won’t tell anyone! Ace, please just let me go!” Her tears are thick and streaming. Damn! This girl is a mess. She starts to fight me, kicking and shoving. One of her long nails digs into my neck, and I wince, but I don’t let her go. Her anger surfaces. “Just let me go!” she growls.

  “No! Just fucking stop!”

  She slaps me.

  “London!”

  For some reason, when I say her name, she calms down. Her face evens out, and I slowly start to back away, lifting my hands in the air. My gun is still in my right hand. She quakes uncontrollably in her seat, watching as I bring the gun behind me and slide it between my back and the waistband of my pants.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” I whisper. “I swear.”

  She remains silent, hazel eyes wide, wet, and full of terror.

  I want her to ease up and trust me on this, so I back away. The tremble in her hands begins to cease. I keep my hands in the air, slowly backing away from the car. “See,” I say. “Not gonna hurt you.”

  She blows out a breath and sits up in her seat. I think she’s going to
talk to me, allow me to explain what just happened, but she doesn’t.

  In an instant, she shuts and locks her door, cranks the car, and speeds away, leaving a trail of dirt behind her. Her car disappears. The longer I stare, the louder I curse beneath my breath, hoping she doesn’t go running to the cops.

  Fuck.

  I have to stop her.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I hiss, fumbling with my keys. It takes me a few seconds to find the key to my apartment door. When I do, I stuff it in the lock and barge in, slamming the door shut behind me.

  My back lands against the door, and I breathe unevenly. With my eyes glued shut, chest heaving, I clutch my keys, wanting to burn and get rid of everything that just happened.

  But I know it’s too late. It’s all become a memory, one that I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. Knowing that, I step away from the door and edge toward my sofa, sluggishly sinking down on one of the cushions. Bringing my hands up, I bury my face into them and sob. Hard. So hard I can feel my stomach clenching. I moan Jonah’s name. I want him here. He’s supposed to be with me for the whole weekend but… but he’s dead.

  Oh. God.

  Knowing the reality of it makes it worse. I break down even more, slipping off my behind and landing on my knees in front of my coffee table, bent over, tears dripping on the carpet.

  “Damn it, Jonah! Why?” I cry out. “Why did you have to be there?”

  I know it’s useless. Pointless. He’s not here. He can’t hear me. His soul is no longer inside him. The only thing I have left of him is memories. My mind rewinds to almost a year ago when Jonah told me he’d gotten a raise at his job. I was proud and happy for him, but around that time, I realized we couldn’t speak much anymore. He was always on the go. He said with his raise and promotion, it meant more traveling for him and less social time.

  I was okay with that as long as he was taking care of himself and getting paid. But then, he moved from his cheap, one-bedroom apartment to a one-bedroom loft. I didn’t think much of it. I knew he needed an upgrade. He sent me pictures, and it was nice.

  Then, a week after that, he got himself a 2013 BMW 328i. That’s when I thought maybe he’d picked up a job on the side. He was still selling watches, just traveling with it. I wanted to know how much his raise actually was and how many bonuses he was getting. It had to be a lot because everything he bought from that moment on was new.

  Everything.

  He bought new suits. New shoes. New cuff links. A new dog. He’d even found himself a girlfriend but broke up with her after two months.

  God. So everything Jonah was getting for himself, and me, was from dirty money? He was working with immigrants and a guy like… Ace? What made him stoop so low?

  Suddenly, my eyes pop open. Ace.

  ACE!

  He came by my apartment. He knows where I live.

  “Fuck!” I hop up and run to the kitchen, scrambling through my drawers for any kind of weapon. Once I come across a butcher knife – my biggest one – I turn all the lights off and wait in my bedroom.

  I know he’s coming.

  And it doesn’t take very long for him to arrive.

  Footsteps start up the complex stairs. They’re heavy. Slow. I try to control my breathing, but it’s nearly impossible. I’m terrified. My heart is pounding in my chest. The room that was once my sanctuary – my getaway—now feels like a trap. A prison. I can hardly breathe.

  Sealing my eyes, I listen as his footsteps get closer to my door until finally he stops. It’s quiet for a moment. I think he’s got his ear to the door, hoping to hear something.

  Then, he bangs on it, and I gasp. I don’t get up though. He can’t get in. The door is locked, and the chain is on. I don’t think he’d be dumb enough to kick the door in, knowing I have neighbors. Good thing they’re nosey. They’ll come looking for the noise immediately just to complain.

  “London, I know you’re in there! Car’s in the parking lot.” His voice is no longer calm and casual. It’s angry and demanding. “Open the door.”

  I don’t say anything, but I do stand and hold the knife in front of me just in case. I slowly walk out of my bedroom and towards the living room.

  “Open it or I’ll kick it down. I don’t give a fuck who sees me.”

  I gulp and gasp at the same time, producing an unexpected and very loud burp. It’s certainly loud enough for Ace to hear.

  Instantly, the door swings open and hits the wall with a forceful thud. I scream as I fall on my side. When I look up, Ace is standing between the frames of the door, adjusting his tie. All I can make out is his shadow, but I can feel his eyes hard on me.

  Stepping inside, he coolly shuts the door behind him. I scramble away with the knife in my hand. When I get to my feet, I dash for my bedroom and grab the telephone. He chases after me, warning me not to do anything stupid.

  I dial 9, but I’m not given the chance to finish. He snatches the phone out of my hand and slams it down. I spin around, bringing the butcher knife in front of me again. Ace takes a quick step back, glaring down at the sharp blade piercing the darkness. Then, a slow smirk forms on his lips, the lips I hate that I once admired.

  “I’ll cut you,” I threaten.

  “You won’t,” he says boldly.

  “I won’t?” I hiss, bringing the edge of the blade to his neck. “Don’t test me. I will.”

  He raises his hands in the air, shaking his head. “When’s the last time you sharpened this thing, huh? Three years ago? It’s as dull as a fucking nun.”

  “I don’t give a shit! I can still cut you with it! Just… sit down!” I demand, circling him, knife still clutched in my hands and at his neck. “On the bed.”

  He frowns. “No.”

  “I don’t wanna hurt you, but if I have to I will!” I shout, voice wavering.

  “That’s the thing… you won’t.” His tone is even.

  I keep my tears back and my emotions behind me for now. I don’t want him to think I’m weak. I don’t want him to get away either. But deep inside, I know I won’t hurt him. I won’t cut him. I’m too afraid to shed blood after seeing so much already.

  With a bored sigh, Ace snatches the knife out of my hand and tosses it out of my bedroom. It skids across the hard, wooden floorboards, causing a clanking noise that makes my ears ring. I gasp and scramble after it, but he grabs my arm and shoves me against the nearest wall. It’s not a hard shove. Nor does it hurt. But I’m still afraid.

  As I tremble, he brings one of his large hands up and locks my face between his fingers. His eyes stare deeply into mine, and his nostrils flare. From the slit of light filtering in through my window, he looks pissed. I know he’s going to kill me. I’m a witness.

  “Listen to me,” he grumbles. His warm breath spills down my chest, across my cleavage. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” I breathe, voice shaky.

  “I won’t. I’m not the one that killed Jonah. They did.” Hearing Jonah’s name causes fiery tears to build in my eyes.

  “It’s your fault. I know it. Why wouldn’t they kill you, too?” I ask. “What were you doing there anyway? Why was Jonah there? Why did they kill him?” All of this is spilling out of me. I’m outraged. I’m pissed that Ace is still alive and my brother isn’t. I’m terrified. I’m… I’m a mess.

  “Listen to me!” he demands, releasing my face to lock his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t know why they killed Jonah, alright? I don’t know why they didn’t kill me. But you have to understand… it’s what we do. It’s what Jonah signed up for. It’s business, and we can’t help when shit gets bloody.”

  I process his words, giving them some thought. “So… you’re the one that got him into that shit? What is it? What’d you promise him? I know Jonah, and I know he wouldn’t do something this bad without getting something in exchange.”

  “I didn’t promise him shit.” Ace runs one hand through his slick hair. “He knew what he was getting into. He
was money-hungry, just like everyone else. It was a mistake… him coming to Atlanta.”

  “How was that a mistake?” I demand. “I invited him. I graduated!”

  Ace tilts his chin to meet my eyes. His are dark, and if I’m not mistaken, watery. I’m not given the chance to figure it out completely because he blinks, and just like that, he’s angry again. “Don’t go to the cops. It’ll only get you killed.”

  And with that, he releases me and walks out of my bedroom. I follow after him, grabbing his arm before he can get out the front door. “Killed by who? You?” I’m keeping my voice steady, but deep inside, I’m scared out of my fucking mind.

  Ace stares at me briefly. He then slides his fingers into his front pockets, turns his back to me, and walks out my splintered front door. He descends the stairs, and I hurry out to watch him walk across the parking lot to his car. Once he makes it, he opens the door but looks up. With a quick shake of his head, he hops in and pulls off without a second to waste.

  I watch him disappear, and I hate that I let him walk away. He shouldn’t be walking away. I don’t know shit. He didn’t tell me anything. I need to know what kind of business Jonah was in, what Ace told him he’d get into. Most of all, I need to know why he was killed. I need to know everything, and soon, I will. I’ll find out, even if it kills me.

  Numb, I sweep up the splintered pieces of wood from Ace’s grand entrance and make my way to my room. I curl in bed and weep over my brother. He’s gone. He won’t be here anymore. It just doesn’t feel real. None of this feels real. It all happened so fast.

  It’s so unethical.

  Why’d it have to be Jonah?

  Why him? The only blood I had left?

  I’m at one of the shittiest bars in Atlanta, but the beer is cheap and the drinks are real so it’ll do. It was the closest I could find. I needed a drink before I completely lost it.