Chapter Thirteen
Someone’s here.
Vick’s eyes snapped open to the sound of creaking floorboards outside her bedroom window. The master bedroom was in the front of the townhouse, near the front porch.
With a hiss, Bast retreated under the bed from her usual place at Vick’s feet. Vick grabbed her glasses and shoved them on her nose.
Vick briefly thought about turning on the lights but decided against it. She doubted company called at this hour.
One of her friends or co-workers would’ve announced themselves. Jack was in the spare bedroom, snoring up a storm. Jasper wouldn’t be at her door since things had gotten so awkward for them.
Which left Simon. Please don’t let it be him.
Vick contemplated the gun on the nightstand for what felt like a century. Now was the time to use it. She clutched the handle, and it felt heavy in her hand, like a lead weight. Vick cautiously tucked the firearm into the pocket of her pajama pants. They were roomy enough to disguise the weapon. Vick also grabbed her car keys, in case she had to make a hasty exit.
On shaking legs, Vick approached the front door and peered through the peephole.
Whoever it was, stood off to the side, so she only saw a shadowed face in profile. Another terrible sign.
“Show yourself!” Vick wished she sounded authoritative, and not scared spitless.
The man turned, and his features came into view. She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.
“Simon.”
“You’ve been lyin’ to me for years, Victoria Hale.”
Oh, God. He knows. Ice froze in her veins.
Her first instinct was to protect her identity, but the jig was well and truly up. No point in pretending anymore.
“Let me in, Victoria.”
“No.”
“I’ll make a scene. Want your neighbors to get an earful?”
Including Jasper?
“You wouldn’t.”
“You know I will.” He leaned in, his voice low and urgent through the door. “I’ll wake them all up. Tongues will be waggin’ for weeks.” She missed living in an anonymous big city where not even her neighbors knew a darn thing about her.
Steeling herself, Vick unchained the latch and opened the front door. Simon stood on the other side of her screen in the pale moonlight. His features remained partly hidden by the dark.
“How’d you find out?”
“Private investigator. A lot of things didn’t add up, so I got some answers after the biker boys tried to shake me down.” He stood there, staring at her reproachfully, as though she’d betrayed him somehow.
“If you’re waitin’ for an apology, I can’t give you one. I don’t feel guilty about protectin’ myself.” Vick lifted her chin.
“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”
Vick couldn’t stand the thought of him standing in her home, touching her things, seeing where she actually lived. She’d been the one who came to him on all their “dates.”
She’d compartmentalized Veronica’s exploits from her own. It was probably some kind of head trip, but it worked. And now he wanted to climb the fences she’d kept between them.
“Nope.” Southern hospitality be damned.
“Fine, then come on out here. You owe me an explanation, if not an apology.”
The nerve. “I don’t owe you at all, which is the point. I paid my debt off and then some.”
“I’m not here for a fight. All I want is some answers.” He held up his hands, as though surrendering. “I promise.”
Vick hesitated.
Perhaps, this was all for the best anyway. It could be an opportunity to de-escalate the situation before it got any worse. Somehow, she’d explain it all to Simon. Then he’d leave her alone, and she could put her salacious past behind her.
Maybe then, she’d have a shot at a future with Jasper. If she hadn’t screwed it up already.
“Okay. Just to talk though. Nothin’ else.”
“Got it.”
“Fine.” The gun gave Vick a sense of security. Besides, they were on her front porch. Sure, everyone might be asleep, but they’d wake up if she made enough racket.
“Have a seat.” She pointed to the porch swing, and they sat together, gently rocking.
Vick stared at her bare feet on the stripped boards. Over the past two years, she’d worn the paint away. This had become her thinking spot. She’d rock for hours, contemplating her job, the struggles in her life.
And Jasper. Always Jasper.
“Why did you lie to me?” he asked after she didn’t speak up.
Right. Time to get this over with.
“I didn’t want to risk a criminal record.”
Vick almost laughed. Considering what she did for a living now, escorting seemed like child’s play. At the time, she’d felt rebellious, although a bit paranoid. Initially, she’d tensed every time she heard a siren going up the street, assuming they’d come to her place and take her “downtown.”
Perhaps she’d seen one too many Law & Order episodes.
He sighed. “I can understand your reluctance in the beginnin’. You didn’t know me well at the time, but why keep up the charade?”
“Once you start lyin’, it’s hard to stop.” Ain’t that the truth?
And she hadn’t wanted him to know the real person anyway. Deceiving Simon had never bothered her, per se. Sure, she’d feared breaking character, but Vick wanted to keep her true identity under wraps.
Vick also doubted she knew Simon, the real him anyway. They’d a pretend relationship—involving fancy nights out, small talk, and sex. Nothing more substantial.
It paled in comparison to her connection with Jasper. Except for this one deep, dark secret, he knew everything about her, even the painful reality of dragging her brother out of a drug den. Never in a million years, would she have asked anyone else for help doing that.
“I reckon.” It was an ambivalent answer. He didn’t seem quite as riled up now.
“And I lied for my own protection.”
Vick had messaged many cam girls, phone sex workers, and escorts, asking for advice and direction before she’d started doing sex work. All of them had cautioned her about privacy. They’d advised her to create a character, one who wouldn’t be as easily recognized in case any man became fixated on her.
She’d read horror stories on several message boards about women being followed and harassed. Veronica had a lot in common with Vick, but she’d changed a few things—where she lived, what college she attended, etc. As a cam girl, Vick had applied a lot of makeup before a show, wore different wigs, and never added her face to social media or the clips she sold.
There were other protocols she’d used—stripping metadata from photos and other files, using a virtual private network when internet surfing with a client. Sometimes, they liked her to watch porn with them, and she’d shielded her IP address, in case they had any connection to the sites.
Vick had also checked the camera line every night, to make certain she hadn’t left any identifying information out in the open like a bill, grocery receipt, or a takeout container from a nearby restaurant.
Some of it had been an abundance of caution, but she’d kept herself safe. Until now.
“What else did your investigator find out?” Vick refused to give him any more information.
“You work for Dixon Wolf, and he’s rumored to be mixed up with the Lone Star Mafia.” He slanted a sideways glance in her direction.
“I see.” How’s that for non-committal?
“How’d did someone like you fall in with a hardened criminal?”
Good question.
Vick shrugged. “I’ve always had a certain moral flexibility.”
“I know.” Simon licked his lips. “You’re a very flexible girl.”
Ugh, the innuendo.
“I’m bein’ serious here. I grew up poor, Simon, so I didn’t have the luxury of high-minded ideals.”
“Horseshit. There’s plenty of moral poor people who’ve never turned to a life of crime.”
Simon shifted in his seat and laid a hand on the back of the swing. Vick scooched a bit further away. The air was thick with a familiar tension.
“You’re right, but I wasn’t content with my lot in life. I wanted to make somethin’ of myself, but I couldn’t do it while workin’ for minimum wage, so I signed up for college, took a couple jobs, and I still couldn’t make ends meet.”
“Well, I admire your work ethic. I had it a bit easier.”
An understatement.
“Your alias Veronica’s folks were alive and well, but your mom died when you were nineteen, right?”
She winced. “Yeah. So, it was my brother and me since then.”
“He’s the one you borrowed money for, this past time.”
“Yes, because he had a drug debt to pay off and I wanted to get him into a good treatment program.” Having a noble cause didn’t make it any better.
Simon considered her for a moment. “You must really love him.”
Vick hesitated. His tone made her uneasy.
She shrugged, as though it didn’t matter. “Yeah, well, he’s the only family I got left.” The swing creaked beneath them, a mournful sound.
“And what about Jasper Tan?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play games with me. Is he your friend…?”
Vick glanced at her feet once more.
“Boyfriend?” His voice dipped. “Lover?”
“Simon—”
“Tell me.” He spit the words out.
“Friend.”
“Then, I don’t have any competition.”
Nope, we’re not even goin’ there.
She tried another tactic. “Simon, Veronica doesn’t exist. You paid me to be your dream girl, and that’s exactly what you received. She isn’t me.”
“You’re tryin’ to tell me none of it was real?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I know you, Veronica…Victoria. You might’ve mixed up some of the details, but it couldn’t have all been a charade.” He reached for her, but she shrank from his touch. Simon persisted anyway and smoothed a piece of hair back, tucking it behind her ear.
“Yes, it was.” Vick resisted the urge to slap his hand away. Let it go.
Simon leaned down, eyes turning to smoke. “I’ve been inside you. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the heat of your snug little pussy wrapped around me. I made you come for me, Victoria.”
Her cheeks burned with shame. Often, she’d been faking it, but every now and then he’d given her an orgasm.
“I go by Vick. Yes, we had decent sex, but I don’t have feelings for you, Simon and I never did. I’ve never been in love with you.”
The girlfriend experience aspect of escorting could be dicey. The girls talked about men “catching feelings” for them and how to guard against it. She could see where it’d be confusing. Vick had hung on his every word. She’d complimented him, laughed at his jokes, and had always “come” for him.
He chuckled. “I’m not in love with you either, Victoria.” He said the name slowly, deliberately. As always, everything was on his terms. She resented the control he loved to exert on her.
“Then why pursue this?” What’s the point?
“I’m intrigued. Perhaps we’ve been deceivin’ each other.”
“What do you mean?” Had Hawthorne been right about Simon?
“I’m a lawyer, but you don’t know who I work for.”
She thought back to some conversations they’d had. He rarely discussed work matters with her, but she’d assumed he’d had confidentiality to protect. People paid lawyers for their discretion, so it hadn’t bothered her. Considering the FBI agent’s insinuations though, it was ominous.
“And who do you work for?”
“I have some very powerful clients south of the border. Every so often, they get into trouble with American authorities, and they pay me well to manage those cases.”
“You mean make them go away.” Byron had a passel of lawyers who did the same thing for the Lone Star Mafia.
“Yes, if you want to be specific.”
Vick put it all together from his south of the border comment.
“You’re a narco lawyer.” She’d heard the term before—lawyers who specialized in keeping the drug cartels out of trouble.
“Guilty as charged.”
Until recently, the outfit had an agreement with a heroin cartel. Cotton Krugg had brokered the deal with the Tres Erre cartel. They were nasty blood-soaked buttheads out of Mexico. Once, after a heroin shipment had gone missing, Byron had sent down a bribe with an employee and a promise to find the missing drugs. The Tres Erre had sent back chunks of the mobster, along with the cash.
And when Krugg had gone missing, Byron had extricated the mafia from the situation.
Vick and the rest of the crew had been grateful. Personally, she doubted Krugg was still alive, but Vick had never liked the man much, to begin with, so she hadn’t given it much thought.
Cartels were full of treacherous men, even more deadly than the outfit. They routinely staged coups, stepping into positions of power, only to be stabbed in the back. They murdered rival cartel members, border agents, and citizens who tried to resist their tactics. The outfit wasn’t full of choir boys either, but they had standards.
“I never knew.”
“You aren’t the only one who can cover their tracks.”
Funny, she had more in common with him than she’d thought. Although Simon used legal means to help bad people, while she used tech skills.
Not that it mattered one bit.
“Wanna know a secret?”
“Why not?”
“I have a high-profile client right now. Juan Rodriguez was arrested in Waco by the feds. It’s public knowledge, so I ain’t compromisin’ confidentiality. I’m the lead lawyer for his trial.”
She’d heard the name before. Rodriguez had been linked to the Centla cartel in southeastern Mexico. The case was a big deal in Texas because he hadn’t been extradited. Instead, he’d been charged with the murder of an American citizen. Rodriguez had allegedly gunned a man down outside his home. Vick bet the feds were trying to push him into testifying against the cartel in exchange for a lighter sentence.
“His case is goin’ well, and Rodriguez owes me a favor or two.”
“That’s nice. Well, it’s late.” Vick stood, ready to go back inside and start the rest of her life.
This situation had been the last straw. Vick would never ask for Simon’s financial assistance again. And she wouldn’t be putting herself in harm’s way to save Jack. If he really wanted to be rescued, Vick would be there to help, but she wouldn’t push him anymore.
Now, if she could just sit down and have the conversation with Jack. Even thinking about it, made her queasy, but Vick had to make herself clear.
“I don’t think you understand me.” He blocked her path. “Have you heard Rodriguez’s nickname?”
“No.”
“The Angel.”
“Angel, huh?” Didn’t most cartel guys have nicknames like Death and the Butcher?
“Yeah, he takes people to meet their maker.”
“Oh.” Did he just threaten me? Her legs wobbled. “I see.”
“Do you? Then sit down because I didn’t say you could leave.”
Vick gasped. She shouldn’t have come out here.
“Whoa, let’s take this down a couple notches.”
“Veronica might not exist, but I’m captivated by you.” He took a step closer. “What a little minx you are, hidin’ yourself from me all these years. I gotta feelin’ I’ve only begun to explore your depths.” He cupped her chin and leaned down to kiss her.
“Stop it.” Vick sprang away from him, dashing to the door, but Simon yanked her closer.
“Ow. Let go of me.”
“Don’t play innocent.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re much more than a good girl seekin’ a thrill as an escort. I believe we’re an even better match for each other.”
You’ve gotta be friggin’ kiddin’ me. Somehow, I’ve made the situation worse. This can’t be happening.
She’d assumed he’d be hurt or angry. Vick expected Simon to cuss her out and stalk off. But no, Simon wanted her even more.
“Simon, I’m not some kind of criminal mastermind or whatever femme fatale kind of fantasy you’ve got goin’ on.”
“Keep on tellin’ yourself that, Vick. If you’d wanted a normal life, you would have one, and I totally understand. Ordinary never appealed to me either. I wanted somethin’ more—excitement, conspiracies, and oh, yeah, gobs of cash.” His eyes burned with an unholy fire.
And then she understood. Simon was an adrenaline junkie. He probably enjoyed hearing about his client’s bloody exploits. And running around with an escort had just been another sort of adventure. Now, he’d discovered her mobster ties, and she’d become even more exhilarating in his eyes.
But what if Simon was right about her? Vick loved the fringe benefits of her business. The outfit paid her well, and she’d nearly taken care of her student loan. Dix had given her a sweet deal on her townhome, too.
And yeah, she might have an ethical qualm or two to deal with along the way, but it’d never stopped her. Even the freaking FBI had given her an off ramp, and she hadn’t considered taking it.
Stop it. Simon’s messin’ with me, confusin’ me, tryin’ to lure me back into his bed.
“I don’t do anythin’ so terrible.”
“Me, neither.” Simon winked. “We both facilitate the criminal activity of others, but we don’t get overly involved.”
Ugh. And I’m delusional, too. Okay, enough of this horse hooey. Time for a Come to Jesus conversation. Belle would call it a mental health intervention, only with more sass.
“Look, I’ve tried to be nice because you helped me out of a tight spot, but we’re done. Perhaps, I haven’t been clear. We’re over—completely, one hundred percent finished. Complete. We’ve reached the end, and I’m fresh out of synonyms.” Vick said the words slowly, as though explaining the situation to a very stupid toddler. “This isn’t about more money or playin’ hard to get. I don’t want you anymore.”
“Yes, you do.”
Seriously? This guy is crazy pants.
She smoothed a hand over her pocket. Please don’t make me do this.
“Don’t be so hasty. You’re a part of my world, which means I don’t have to be so tame.”
“Meaning?” He was speaking in eerie riddles, which was never a good sign.
“You can’t run to the feds and rat me out without exposin’ your own criminal activity. I already sent your biker boys packin’. The Lone Star Mafia don’t like added attention, so you can’t tell anybody. See? You don’t have any recourse, but to go along with my plan.” He smirked. “And I’ll still pay you handsomely for your time because I’m a generous man.”
She gulped. Everything he’d said was true. Calling in the bikers had been her last good option.
“Simon... please…”
He ignored her. “Don’t you see?” He stepped closer. “I can be myself around you. I won’t have to hide who I really am, and neither will you. Stop bein’ so mulish and give in.”
Vick was sick of being pushed around and threatened.
“Never. Is it sinkin’ in? We’re over.”
“I’m gonna punish you for that you later.” But his eyes were glazed. Simon was turned on by her backbone.
“You need to leave now.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Victoria. Have you learned nothin’ about me over the years? Nobody tells me what I can and cannot do. And I always get what I want.” His voice dipped. “Who I want. I can’t wait to see who you really are, underneath all those white lies.”
“Trust me, you don’t wanna find out.” Vick withdrew the gun. “Stay the hell away from me.”
He laughed, eyes dancing. “You won’t shoot me. You don’t got it in you, girl.”
Simon didn’t even look concerned.
Could this get any more screwed up? No, don’t tempt fate by even askin’. If Vick were the type of girl who swore, she’d be spitting out a few cuss words right now.
“Sure about that? You’ve made me pretty darn desperate.”
“Have I? You don’t seem so distressed to me. In fact, I’ve never seen you look more alive.”
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
The gun trembled in her hand as she lifted it. Vick knew with utter certainty, she couldn’t pull the trigger. She could never take someone’s life, even Simon’s.
“I dare you.” Simon held his arms out, making himself an even bigger target.
And Vick lowered the barrel.
He smirked. “I knew it. Hand me the piece, and let’s go inside.” Simon reached for it.
“No.”
“Okay, I’ve had enough sass. After I give you one hell of a spankin’, I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you’re bow-legged. Then we’ll come to sort of an arrangement. See? Everybody wins.”
Vick grimaced, picturing his possessive hands, running all over her. Touching her. Claiming her.
No. Never again.
“You’re right, Simon, I’d never shoot you, but I don’t feel the same way about your tires.”
Vick shot at the right front tire. The bullet hit the rim and ricocheted off. Simon flung himself down on the porch. She took another shot and hit the rubber this time, the escaping air made a hissing sound.
Vick scrambled down the steps and into her SUV. She started it up and roared out of the driveway as Simon chased after her.
“This isn’t over, Victoria!”
Heart pounding, she floored it, screeching down the street.