Page 20 of Duchess

Then his voice filtered through the line. He sounded somewhat hesitant, and his voice slightly cracked as he spoke my name. "Steph?"

A part of me twisted at the sound of it. So familiar and yet so distant. Despite everything he was still my brother, we had been close, and it had all hurt. Especially what he’d done to our father. I didn’t know his motives, he kept those to himself, but the least he could do was help me out. He owed me that.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and responded. "I thought you weren’t going to answer."

"I thought you’d never talk to me again." He said quietly.

I almost didn’t. I almost let pride keep me from making this call. But pride didn’t mean shit when you were staring at a future that would be cut short in mere hours.

"I won’t lie," I said. "I thought about it."

There was a long pause between us with a bunch of unsaid feelings that continued to weigh on us.

"How are you?" He asked.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, not really wanting to get into it with him. "I didn’t call for small talk, Colt. I need your help. I’m in deep shit."

I stood at the window, the glass smudged with soot and dust. I pressed the phone tightly to my ear, staring blankly at the flickering streetlight across the street from the building. The warehouse was located in the middle of nowhere and well hidden, but I couldn't let my guard down. I kept scanning the street for any sign of movement as paranoia had slowly seeped into my head in the last few hours. And I knew deep down in my gut that Caleb had eyes on me.

My breath came in shallow pulls as I tried to figure out how to say everything without giving too much away, or sounding like the scared girl I swore I’d never be again. But Colt knew me.He’d always seen through my shit. And even though it had been years, I knew he could sense the fear. I couldn't help the shake in my voice, or the forced edge in my tone that I tried to keep steady.

“I got myself into something,” I finally said, my words tight and low. “Something I can’t get the hell out of alone.”

There was silence on his end. Not the judgment kind. He was just waiting for me to finish. He always did that. Waited until I let it spill and I always did. I eventually broke.

My breathing became ragged as I told him everything. I let him know about Alan’s death, the Turks, Caleb. Everything. I even told him about the goddamn laptop that felt like a time bomb waiting to reveal me and our location. My hands shook as I held the phone, my chest tightening with every word I managed to push out. I told him about the accounts, the warehouse full of hot goods that no one was supposed to know existed, the kind of information that people were murdered over. I told him about Alan’s stash, his betrayal, his death, and my place in all of it.

By the time I stopped, I was pressed against the cold wall, knees weak, knuckles white around the edge of the windowsill. And Colt hadn’t said a damn word.

My voice cracked once. I hated that. But it was the truth bleeding through, and he knew it, because this wasn’t just me calling in a favor. This was his little sister calling for protection.

His silence at the end was heavy, but I waited patiently for his response. Finally, he broke the silence.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"I don't know yet. But I need to move it before the Turks catch on to what Alan had going on, " I muttered, still peeking out the window. "You think Rancid might bite?"

Rancid’s reputation wasn’t just street rumor, he had made a name for himself in the dark circles I dealt with. His namecarried weight among the Turks and everyone from the Italians to the Mexicans knew that Rancid would do anything for money. He liked to traffic girls, he trained them, buried them, and was vile enough to sell the dirt above their graves. He was a disgusting pedophile. And anyone who was anyone knew that Rancid didn’t just buy product, he controlled it. If I was going to put my life in anyone’s hands, it needed to be someone who had more power than the people I was running from. And in this world, that wasn’t a long list. Sadly, Rancid sat right at the top of it.

"How much product is it?" Colt asked finally, voice clipped.

"We’ve got at least thirty million’s worth."

"Fuck, Steph. That’s a lot of fucking money. I don’t think he’ll go for it. Maybe half of that."

I hissed at him. "Don’t try that haggling shit on me, Colt. I know Rancid’s movements, I watch everything. He’s got the funds. What I want to know is if it’s worth taking the risk on. Will Rancid buy the items or not?"

He paused, and I imagined him pacing back and forth in whatever hideout the RBMC called home now. Probably scratching at his stubble while doing the math in his head.

“I can’t guarantee it but I’ll see how I can sell it to him.”

I nodded, although he couldn’t see me. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

It took me a second to respond. “I know you think I was dumbass for leaving.”

“Not exactly… but yeah. I’m sure Mom and Dad will welcome you back.”

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