Beneath These Lies (29 page)

D
RUGS. MONEY. GUNS. THEY’D BEEN
my world for years, but I was ready to get out. Valentina wasn’t the kind of woman I could keep while doing what I did, and I wasn’t willing to let her go. What I could let go of was drugs, money, and guns. But when you were as bound up in the game as I was, nothing was ever simple.

Johnny and I rolled on the warehouse where I had a meet set up. Hennessy was still sniffing around, looking for evidence that his brother wasn’t dirty. I’d offered up a reward for the wire tape, and wouldn’t you know it, money talked.

I was getting my hands on it today, from another employee of the NOPD, ironically enough. In this world, no one and nothing were ever what or who they seemed to be. The good guys weren’t all good and the bad guys weren’t all bad. Just one more lesson about life.

And why the fuck was I getting philosophical?
I was here to get something Hennessy wanted, and then I was going to warn him off Valentina once and for all.

The warehouse was dark and quiet when I walked in. Abandoned twenty years ago after a main Mardi Gras parade route change, the old brick building still held random pieces of broken floats that had never been moved. It was very NOLA.

Gregory Herman waited inside, arms crossed, wearing thick-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes. From the way he was jumping at every sound, he had to be hopped up on something, because there was no way he could be that nervous. Could he? A tech nerd at the precinct for less than a year, according to my sources, he didn’t do much fieldwork, but he was a savant when it came to computers and surveillance and all that shit.

Johnny was at my back as I approached Herman. “You alone?” I asked. I hadn’t taken the time to search the building, but that was the other thing that could have him so jumpy. “Because if you ain’t, you and whoever you brought are going to have a rather unpleasant evening.”

He shook his head violently, almost dislodging his glasses. Resettling them on his nose, he stuttered, “N-n-no, sir. Just me. I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing.”

“Because you’re breaking the law and could end up in jail for doing this yourself.”

I wanted to make sure the consequences were clear to him before I handed over the money. I didn’t get the
set-up
vibe from him either.

“I guess. I mean, it’s just a file. It’s no big deal.”

His lack of remorse would be troubling to his superiors, but it was fine by me.

“Exactly. And you’re getting a decent bonus for your assistance. No harm, no foul.”

Herman nodded. “Right. Exactly.”

“So let’s hear it.”

“Hear it?” he asked.

“The recording.” At his confused expression, I added, “Did you think I’d pay for shit before I heard it? You could be scammin’ me, Herman, although I think you’re too nice a guy to be trying that.”

“I swear I’m not. It’s all here. I thought you’d want to listen to it in private. I mean, this could be big stuff. I don’t recognize the voices, so I’m not much help.”

“We’re listening to it now, and then we’ll both be on with our day.”

“Oh, okay. I guess that’s fine.” He pulled a USB drive out of his pocket. “Do you have a computer?”

Taking it from Herman, I turned to Johnny. He already had the laptop out and open in his hands. I slid the USB drive into place, found the file, and hit P
LAY
.

Static was all I heard at first, and then a conversation started.

“I told you I’m done.”

“And I told you I’m not. We’ve got at least three or four more runs before I’m going to be ready to call it quits.”

“You’re taking a lot of fucking chances, Hennessy.”

Well, fuck. We listened to the end of the recording, even though I didn’t need to hear any more to have my answers.

I held out a hand and Johnny placed an envelope in it.

“For your good work,” I said.

Herman grabbed the envelope and folded it in half before shoving it in his pants pocket. “Guess I’ll be on my way.”

“You do that.”

He left the warehouse, and I waited several long moments before my curse echoed through the room.

Fuck.
As much as Hennessy was pissing me the fuck off right now with his dogged determination to get my woman, I didn’t want this for him. This wasn’t the kind of news I wanted to deliver to any person. It also wasn’t something I was going to keep from him.

“Let’s roll,” I said to Johnny before we turned to leave the warehouse. A shuffling sound caught my attention before we got too far. We both drew our guns in the direction of the noise before taking another step.

“Come out or you’re dead.” My tone was casual, but my words weren’t.

D-Rock materialized from the shadows.

“What the fuck are you doing back in town?” I demanded, lowering my piece.

He was lucky I didn’t shoot him instead. He was supposed to be laid up in his aunt’s guest room, not allowed to step foot in Louisiana again without my express permission. His recklessness had cost people their lives, and had caused me a huge pain in the ass.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“That’s what phones are for, genius.”

“Nah, man. I needed to get back here. Gotta see my girl.”

“Your girl is done with you. Most women don’t appreciate getting kidnapped and staying kidnapped for a week, and on top of that, they’re not big fans of being rescued by people who aren’t their man.”

“But I—”

“All you did was start a war. You need to get the fuck out of town before you cause me more trouble. Told you I didn’t want to see your face anytime soon.”

“But Trinity—”

“Is fucking going to art school, and she doesn’t need a gangbanger like you to fuck with her life any more than you already have. The girl is bright. She’s going places. You’re not what she needs.”

D-Rock’s face twisted into an ugly scowl. “Ain’t that the pot callin’ the kettle? Fuck, you’re so far up that rich bitch’s ass, you can’t even see that you’re fuckin’ draggin’ her down like you’re accusing me of doin’ to Trinity.” He laughed bitterly. “You’re a gangbanger and she’s practically fuckin’ royalty. You’ve got no business touchin’ her, but you don’t seem to get that, do you? What do you think is gonna happen with you two? You’re gonna move into her fancy digs and live happily ever after?”

If my gun were still drawn, I would have been tempted to pull the trigger to shut him up. “None of that shit you spewed is any of your goddamned business, so I suggest you buy yourself a bus ticket and get back to Bumfuck where I sent you, and wait until you’re called.”

D-Rock’s face twisted with rage. “You don’t get to fuckin’ tell me what to do. I’m not some punk kid anymore, Rix. I’ve paid my dues. I get a say.”

I stalked toward him. Enough was enough. “You don’t get a say unless I tell you you do. You’re still a punk kid because you can’t make a damn decision without putting what you want first. You need to grow the fuck up before you get yourself killed. Or before I kill you.”

“Fuck you, Rix.”

Enough of this little fucker.
I closed the distance separating us and grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off his feet, and walked forward until his back slammed into the concrete wall. If my crew didn’t respect me, then they weren’t part of the crew any longer. Because he was a stupid fuck, I’d given him more chances than he deserved, but this was his last.

“You ever talk like that to me again, I will fuckin’ kill you with my bare hands. I won’t waste a bullet on your sorry piece-of-shit brain because you’ve wasted too much already. You’re done with the girl. No need to explain. I’ll take care of that shit. And if you talk about my woman again, you’ll wish you were dead long before I get around to ending you.”

And I meant every single fucking word of it. My hands weren’t clean. But in my world, the ends justified the means, and I got shit done. A few more steps, and I could walk out on this life.

I could already taste the sweetness of freedom on the other side. Not long now.

D-Rock gurgled against my hold, and I shook him hard.

“You get me?”

He nodded with jerking movements before I lowered him to his feet.

“Do not test me again. This is your last chance. Now, get the fuck out of my sight.”

He fixed his shirt and glared at me. All his thoughts showed on his face, but he was smart enough not to open his mouth.

“I’m gone,” he spat, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the warehouse.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, Johnny. This place is pissing me off.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

T
HE PRESS OF THE MASK
on my face brought me right back to earlier this week. Rix. The club. It was everything I could do not to shiver when I remembered the storage room.

Tonight’s purpose was much more mundane, but still worthy. My mother had helped organize a masquerade at the New Orleans Museum of Art to raise money for a new children’s art program that was to be offered to any city resident under the age of fourteen at no cost. A noble cause, and one I couldn’t turn down given my own passion for the arts, even if my mother hadn’t co-chaired the committee.

I thought of little girls like Trinity. When I’d first met her at twelve and she’d been assigned as the Little to my Big, she’d been quiet and shy. Pulling words from her had been like pulling teeth. But when I’d brought out art supplies on a whim, she’d blossomed. I wanted that for all the other kids out there who might not otherwise discover a talent and become the next George Rodrigue with his famous blue dogs.

Tying my mask a little tighter, I stared into the mirror and laughed at the irony of an event to raise money for children but didn’t include a single child. No, tonight NOMA was full of glittering dresses and expensively cut suits with deep pockets. A silent auction of certain donated pieces was being held to raise funds on top of the hefty price of a ticket.

I stepped out of the ladies’ room and began circling the ballroom, searching for my parents. I knew plenty of other people in attendance, although the masks hid the identities well enough that I wasn’t able to place many of them.

As was the norm in this town when you pulled on a mask, people felt free to dress more risqué, laugh louder, act bolder. I’d already been on the receiving end of a very handsy gentleman who’d apparently hit the open bar a bit too hard. Which wasn’t a terrible idea, I supposed.

I strode up to the shortest line. Tonight would go much faster with a drink in my hand. I might support the cause they were raising money for, but that didn’t mean I was endlessly entertained by the event. I’d rather be home, in my studio, waiting for a certain man to break into my house.

Rix had been MIA all afternoon and evening, and as much as I wanted to text and ask where he was and what he was doing, I hesitated. The only thing I was pretty certain of was that he would find his way into my bed tonight somehow.

A glass of red acquired, I circled the room, catching sight of my father. Even from here, it was obvious his eyes were on my mother as she gestured to one of the silent auction pieces, no doubt giving excellent reasons why the last bid was dreadfully underpriced and how someone could still grab it for a steal. She was an expert at that.

I made my way to my father.

“You’re looking dashing in your mask this evening.”

His smile was quick, but softened when he realized it was me. “Darling daughter. You look beautiful.”

My emerald-green dress was long and fitted, with a slit running up the back just past my knees. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to walk in the thing. The V-cut of the front wasn’t exactly plunging, but rather the daring edge of flattering. I’d bought it months ago, and when I’d seen the event on my calendar for tonight, it had seemed like the perfect choice.

The looks I’d drawn since I’d walked in the door had me reconsidering whether I’d pushed the daring edge further than necessary, but I didn’t think so. It was the masks allowing more emboldened stares than one would normally encounter at a charity event. And apparently my father didn’t think it looked scandalous.

“You look handsome yourself.”

He lifted his highball glass to clink against the rim of my wineglass. “Your old man can still pull off black tie when necessary.” He winked at me and sipped.

It was no secret that my father hated wearing a tux. Bow ties were his nemesis, and no amount of black-tie events would ever make him see differently. In his position, especially with all of my mother’s causes, he’d been to a ridiculous number.

I glanced at my mother, still pushing the bid on a gorgeous abstract skyline of the city. “She’s in her element.”

“Of course. She’s emptying pockets for the good of the children of this city. You know there’s nothing she loves better than repurposing people’s funds.”

Repurposing people’s funds
. A great way to describe it.

“Harold! Is that you under that mask?”

A man’s voice cut through the background music and chatter as he strode up to us. He was younger than my father by at least twenty years, with hair as black as night except for a little gray at the temples. He’d also opted for a suit and not a tux, and it fit him to perfection. His own mask hid parts of his face, but not his dark eyes and chiseled jaw. I didn’t think a woman alive would be able to argue he wasn’t handsome.