Creed
“And what is the most important thing to remember while I’m away?” I asked Josh again as he fidgeted and swirled around the room.
He stopped for a second, staring at me with his huge brown eyes. Little brat was lucky he was adorable. “Don’t open the door for nobody. No matter what. Not even the pizza man or Jerry Springer.” He resumed his bouncing, climbing over the bed and running around the back of it.
“And why is it important not to open the door for anyone no matter what?” I asked, my eyes locked on his little face. I needed to make sure he was taking my warnings seriously. Luckily for me, his brows were furrowed like he was actually thinking his answer through.
Josh bounced off of the edge of the bed and back to his feet over and over, his sticky fingers in his mouth. “Because the last guy I let into our house burned it to the ground, and that’s how we ended up here in this shitty motel.” My kid paused in his jumping for a second, his eyes tracing some invisible pattern on the ceiling. “Did you ever get the guys that did it, Dad? Did you ever go after the men who burnt down our house?”
I wish I could have, Josh. I would have if the Boss would have let me. But he would not, so my hands are tied. I growled something non-committal in response and handed Josh a sandwich I’d bought for him at 7-11. “Here’s your dinner, brat. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? No loud music or TV. Don’t let anyone know you’re home, no matter how nice they look. I mean it.”
Josh nodded as he bounced around, taking the sandwich between his paws and spinning in place. I hated that he did that, hated that the brat couldn’t hold still for even a second to talk to me. But I also knew he couldn’t focus until he was moving and wouldn’t remember a damn word I’d said if I made him hold still. Grunting, I got to my feet and walked out of the motel room, my eyes scanning the world around me for potential hazards. I locked the door behind myself, reset my traps, and started towards the steps.
Rivals are getting really gutsy, attacking us at our homes. It’s no surprise, with the direction the Boss is taking the Devil’s Edge. The feel of the heat from the flames across my skin was burned into my memory. I’d thought Josh died in the blaze that day. If he hadn’t been big enough to pick up a chair from the kitchen and throw it through the window, he probably wouldn’t be here today. And as uncomplicated as that would have made my life, losing Josh wasn’t an option. I’d never forgive myself.
It was all because of the Devil’s Edge and the plans the Boss had for us. No matter how we were attacked, no matter who we lost, the Boss had no interest in being second place. He would do whatever he needed to do to be number one. I tried my best to remain the impartial little soldier serving the Boss, but it was difficult when his choices recently had been so volatile. The whisperings behind his back had become more frequent and open, and he seemed completely oblivious to all of it. There was more crazy in his eyes and less thoughtful expressions on his face. I winced to think about it.
Something is going on, and I have a feeling none of us are going to like it. I have a feeling it involves the drug cartel that we’ve been courting from the south. A drug cartel on our shared territory would be enough to provoke the attacks we’d been experiencing from the other two gangs; it wasn’t only my house that had burnt to the ground in these last few weeks.
Sighing, I swung around the corner from my shitty room, nearly running into the very pretty face of my next door neighbor. She was short, her tiny body seemed to get smaller as she recognized who she’d almost collided with. Her eyes were the color of black coffee. Her gold-touched mocha hair fell in big, winding waves from the crown of her head to nearly the middle of her back. Long lashes slid down over her eyes, her pretty, tanned skin paling a little at the sight of me. Good, she’s scared. As she should be. What did Josh call her? Ivy?
Ivy tried to sidestep around me, ducking her head in a sign of respect. But I stepped in front of her path again, keeping her from moving past me. “Do you think this is some sort of playground, Ivy?” I hissed through my teeth.
The woman looked up at me, her pupils dilating in fear as she took a step back. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She looked like a fish pulled out of the water to suffocate. Good, that fear is healthy. Perhaps she’ll learn her lesson now instead of me having to rough her up later.
I continued like I hadn’t been expecting an answer. “Who gave you permission to speak to my son?”
Ivy said nothing in response, instead choosing to stare down at her boots. It was probably for the best; there was nothing that she could say that would make me less angry at her messing around in my business. I took hold of her arms and pushed her back against the corner. Her skin was hot and quivering under my fingers, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. That pretty, tanned skin was soft as silk under my fingers, and I was hard pressed not to caress every line of her I could reach.
God, she’s fucking hot. Why did she have to be hot? It was harder to stay angry with her when she was looking up at me through those long lashes. But no matter how hot she is, she isn’t worth the extra complication, the extra body to keep safe from the arsonists. No, Ivy isn’t worth anything to me. It’s hard enough to keep Josh relatively safe from the gangs and the rivals.
“Who gave you permission to break into my house?”
The woman blinked up at me, finally finding her voice even through all of the shaking. “He was lonely and scared and just wanted in. I never meant to--”
I shook her, perhaps a little too hard, making her squeak in fear. “Don’t ever talk to me or my son again, Ivy, or else you wished you never moved into this place. Do you understand me?”
The woman nodded, her eyes wide like a rabbit’s. She turned as soon as I let her go, fleeing into her apartment and locking the door behind her. Odd, hearing her talk. She doesn’t sound like she belongs here. She didn’t have an accent, but she spoke like she’d been educated well. At least, educated better than any of the schools in this trash part of town could do.
I stared after her long after she had vanished, pondering the mystery of her. Her clothes aren’t new, but they are a much better make than most clothing in this place. The way she talks makes her sound like she’s from the other side of the river, not here. She must have been rich at some point to live where she would have picked up that way of speaking.
It was pretty obvious to anyone who saw her that she didn’t belong here. It was equally as obvious that her transition was new, and she was trying desperately to fit in. It made me wonder where she was a year ago that she’d ended up in such dire straits.
Not that it’s any of my business. Not that I care.
It didn’t matter how hard life was for the poor little rich girl next door; my life had been harder. It was harder. Either way, it wasn’t like I could help her out. I had my own problems. If the Boss didn’t stop with his wild planning soon, the number of those problems would start growing by leaps and bounds. Sighing through my teeth, I turned away from the bewitching woman’s door and started back down the stairs. With every step, I tried to will myself into icy numbness. It was probably the only way I would ever get through this next meeting with the Boss.