Page 16 of Fighting Conviction
“I went off the tips I received, damnit. The one’sy’allgave me. I didn’t know who all was involved—”
“Fucking idiot,” the man muttered.
“Well, you say you ain’t interested inher, but are you gonna try to pull the same stunt at the party again this year?”
“That is none of your concern. We ask the questions, you tell us the answers. That is the deal.”
“That’s how we got in trouble last time. I’m doin’ things different now.” The man on the other line started to grumble, but Neal wasn’t finished. “I thought all that was over with. That you’d moved on from Ashland County with that shit. Just gone back to the drugs.”
“Naivety is only attractive in females, Neal.” A low huff of laughter resounded over the phone, making Neal shiver.
He should’ve kept his mouth shut, but his need to know outweighed his self-preservation. “Her brother said she thinks she’s bein’ followed. Is that true? If it is, maybe y’all oughta stop.”
Neal sat up in his chair and sorted out the pills again. He tried to listen. The answer was important. But he still needed to find that last one. Now that he had a limit, none of them could go unaccounted for.
“… we have lost interest in her but we keep tabs on people who know our business. From what you have said BlackStone knows, she does not remember anything of value and we want to keep it that way. Keeping our distance and a low profile ensures our privacy.”
“So… you’ll leave her alone?”
“Are you fucking deaf too? I am not having her stalked! She is a liability unless she falls into our laps. We might be able to make her useful but only if she were to stick her nose where it does not belong. At that point we would be cutting loose ends. Even then there is the possibility of exposure we cannot afford.”
That was good. One less thing Neal had to worry about. There was already too much on his plate.
Neal mopped the sweat accumulating on his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Fingers shaking, he carefully put one pill in his hand and swallowed it down with the water. The small lump accompanying the cool gulp down his throat lifted the anvil on his chest so he could breathe again. He sighed as heavily as his ol’ smoker’s lungs would allow, leaning all the way back in his chair until his head rested against the wall.
“Alright, well I think that’s everything.”
“Fucking imbecile.”
The call disconnected and Neal stared at the phone in his hand as he wondered how his life had gotten to the point where he had to depend on that Russian bastard.
Maybe the Russian was right. Maybe he should be cut off.
Despite his thoughts, he tapped each pill, slowly putting each one back in Cici’s old medicine bottle. He counted them back into the bottle.
One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine…
He’d have to figure out where the missing pill was ASAP. He had a limit now… But one more couldn’t hurt.
Rather than deposit it into the medicine bottle, Neal popped the last tablet into his mouth. He’d earned it. Talking to the Russian always took him to his wit’s end.
He bent his head back and embraced the calm flowing down his throat and rooting into his blood. The promise of peace and quiet would soon rush through his veins. In the meantime, he pulled out his lighter and flicked it on and off. It was a habit he’d developed years ago as a smoker and it’d become a mindless thing for his hands to do to pass the time. Resting his eyes, his head at an awkward angle at the back of his chair, he tried not to think about the one pill he hadn’t found yet.
Eight left. We’ll find the other one later, won’t we, Cici?
The fog of his memory revealed Cici’s sad brown eyes and he ached to see her smile one more time. He hadn’t deserved one in a long time. Too long. Even before the world became too much for her to endure.
It was one of the reasons why she’d left it in the first place.
Neal squinched his eyes closed against the burn inside until finally, cooling euphoria washed over him, and he did his best to forget the woman he’d damned with his love.
Chapter Six
Harsh, rhythmic slapping of shoes against asphalt grew louder and louder, making Ellie’s heart race. She tried to anticipate what direction they were coming from, but they sounded like they were already on top of her.
“Behind! Left!”
Ellie scooted to the right and let the sprinter pass her, trying not to be annoyed her pulse shot up twenty beats every time someone approached. It was a lined recreational track, for God’s sake, with plenty of room in every lane. But for some reason these runners insisted on gettingright behindher before they passed.
