Page 46 of The Fragile One

Five years ago…

The apartment is in a terrible part of Boston. Cockroaches and rats dart away from the light as I make my way up the stairs. Tommy has a disgusted look on his face that tells me he smells the shit and rotten trash in the hall as well. Well, at least I don’t have to suffer alone.

“Man, from the looks of this place, no one would even care if they heard her screaming from the apartment,” he points out.

When the boss received a ransom note for his daughter, he immediately called me in, and I recruited Tommy to help with the exchange. I have my doubts that Stephanie, his daughter, is here against her will, but when I brought it up to my boss, he shrugged it off and showed me the video. Admittedly, it looked like it could be real, but addicts are fantastic fucking actors. I should know. How many times had my sister lied about where she was going and who she was meeting? The boss, though, doesn’t want to admit his daughter has fallen back into old habits and wants me to treat this like a kidnapping. The money in the duffle bag is evidence of that.

The note came with a key to an apartment in the building where we were supposed to leave the money and go back to our car to await further instruction. This is all fishy as shit, but denial is powerful and Stephanie’s father is so deep in it, I think it would take his daughter shooting up in front of him for him to admit it at this point.

When we get to the door, I lean my ear against the aged, splintered wood and listen for any movement inside. Not hearing any, Tommy and I draw our weapons and twist the handle, finding it unlocked. I give him a ‘what the fuck’ look as we enter on high alert. I’m not about to get shot for my troubles.

Tommy makes a quick sweep of the place as I stay by the entrance.

“Clear,” he calls from the hallway to my right.

As I’m about to drop the bag and leave, I hear moaning through the paper-thin walls coming from the apartment next door. Tommy and I share a disgusted look as we make our way out.

“Fuck yeah, Stephanie, we’re going to be rich.”

What the fuck?

“Mmm yeah, we are, baby,” A raspy, feminine voice replies.

I know that goddamn voice.

I knew it. I fucking knew it.

I look over at Tommy. He rolls his eyes at me. I figure we have two choices here. One- we can forget what we heard and carry on like this is a kidnapping case that her daddy wants to believe, let her take the money and run. Or two- we can fuck up her plans to rip off her family and go get her.

Tommy sees when I make my mind up. Option two it is.

I walk back in the disgusting hallway to the apartment next door. The wood is flimsy as shit, and it only takes one solid kick to bust through. Making my way to the bedroom, gun still drawn, I see Stephanie riding her drug dealer boyfriend like she didn’t hear the door being kicked in. Or she’s so fucking high she doesn’t care. He spots me first and moves to throw her off before leaning over to the nightstand, presumably to grab a weapon. This motherfucker is obviously higher than a kite.

“Don’t move a muscle, asshole,” I seethe in his direction.

He stops at my command as I look over at Stephanie on the bed next to him, so out of it she just huffs and lies there like she doesn’t give a shit she was just caught red-handed.

“Sorry, baby. Guess the party’s over. The fun police are here.” The little bitch has the audacity to roll her eyes like we’re the ones who caused this entire situation and we’re putting her out.

I grab a dirty T-shirt from the floor and toss it at her.“Put this on. We’re leaving.”

Tommy is still behind me with his gun trained on the loser boyfriend as Stephanie throws the shirt over her too skinny body.

She stands and makes her way toward me, stopping when she’s mere inches from me.

“I know how much is in that bag. How about we grab it and leave? I’m sure you can figure out a way to make us disappear. No one will find us.”

She’s giving me her best sultry look, complete with pinpricks for pupils. It’s one I’ve unfortunately seen before. There is nothing I feel for her but disgust mixed with pity for this girl. She must see it in my eyes because she simply shakes her head and walks out of the bedroom.

I follow her closely out of the apartment as Tommy walks behind me, keeping his weapon trained on the dipshit until we’re back in the hallway.

Grabbing the duffle of cash from next door, we leave the rat-infested building and get back in the car. I sit in the back with Stephanie to ensure she doesn’t make a run for it.

“Fucking fun police,” she mumbles to no one in particular.

I take in a deep breath as Tommy pulls away from the curb. Yeah, it’s all our fault your scam didn’t work how you wanted, I think to myself as we leave. It’s time for a new fucking job.

Soon after Stephanie went to rehab for her fourth, or maybe fifth, time, I met the Hayes family and decided to work for them. Liam guaranteed me there would be no drama this time. I should have known better, considering the source. The trouble with Jackson was different from my previous employment, but trouble all the same. The only thing that kept me with Donovan all these years has been knowing there were no drugs involved. Sweeping sexual proclivities under the rug, I can deal with. Drugs are a hard no.

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