Beware the Snake Page 9

  “So, who do we have to rough up to get access to the backend of the site?” Monty asks.

  “That would be Toby Brown. He’s in charge of website maintenance and development,” Jess says.

  “Good.” Monty turns to me, the first time he’s looked at me all morning. “Find this guy and have a little chat. Take the beast with you. You know what to do.”

  “What if Toby talks?” Jess blurts out.

  Monty looks at her with a condescending smile. “Oh, honey. Don’t you worry about that. We’ve got it covered.”

  Jess narrows her eyes. She opens her mouth, about to spit venom. I clap my hands, cutting her off.

  “Okay,” I say, brightly. “We know where we’re going from here.” I grab Jess’ arm, helping her up. “Monty, we’ll be in touch.”

  I get her out of there as fast as I can. In the hallway, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I say to Jess.

  She’s staring at Monty’s door. When she turns to me, she has tears in her eyes. I grab her hand, and she lets me.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  I’m hoping to avoid Salvatore and Anthony, but Anthony calls my name as soon as he sees me.

  “Yo, Snake,” he says. “Can we talk. Alone?”

  I tell Jess to wait for me in the car. With her head down, she walks quickly out of the warehouse.

  “What is it?” I ask Anthony.

  Behind him, Salvatore crooks at finger at me, bidding me to come over. The three of us sit at a table, far away from anyone who could hear us.

  “There’s been a development in the tequila case,” Anthony says.

  I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah? Let me guess. A bus boy drank it.”

  I don’t look at Salvatore, but I can feel his cold eyes on me. I stop laughing immediately. Anthony speaks in a low, serious voice.

  “I had one of my guys at the forensic lab run some tests on the bottle. It came back positive for bromethalin.”

  “What the hell is that?” I ask.

  “Rat poison, basically,” Anthony says. “My guy figures the amount in the tequila would kill a full grown man. Apparently, it makes the brain swell, eyeballs popping out and everything.”

  “Holy shit.” I look at Salvatore. “Does your old man know?”

  Salvatore shakes his head. “I want answers before I go to him. I want to tell him who tried to kill him.”

  “We need to find out the name of everyone at the party,” Anthony says. “I mean, everyone. Guests, waiters, cooks, bartenders.”

  “Yeah, you know, anything I can do to help,” I offer. Figuring that wasn’t enough, I point at Sal. “We’ll get the asshole who tried to get your father.”

  Salvatore nods curtly. “I know we will.”

  I can’t get to Jess fast enough. She’s in the car, right where I told her to be. I try not to panic. They don’t know who poisoned the tequila, not yet anyway. I should’ve thrown that bottle in the ocean. Why did I leave it there for someone to find?

  Jess’ face is still red. It looks like she just stopped crying.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  Jess looks straight ahead. “I just shook the hand of the man who killed my fiancé.”

  Fiancé. The word echoes in my head as I pull onto the highway. Jess was engaged. I know it shouldn’t, but it makes me jealous. While we drive, she looks down, sniffling every now and then. I grip the steering wheel tightly. With every cell in my body, I want to protect this woman, from the crew, from Monty, even from her past.

  So, where do your loyalties lie, Snake? I ask myself, gritting my teeth. With the family you swore an oath to, or with a woman who wants nothing to do with you?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jess

  Am I really doing this?

  With each step forward, I ask myself that question. I step onto the elevator, and stab the button to my floor with an impatient finger. There are a few of my co-workers in here. They don’t speak in my presence. They barely breathe. This isn’t unusual, but I know that today I must be giving off a rather intense energy. I can’t stop fiddling with my hair, or taking deep, frustrated breaths. Every muscle in my body is tense.

  We’re going to be up to some mafia shit today, like, real, organized crime style shit. I wonder if when I was a baby, my mother gazed into my crib and thought one day, my baby girl will grow up to kidnap her co-worker, and threaten him into helping her commit a crime, then went off to sew more pink curtains for the windows.

  It’s so absurd, I pinch the bridge of my nose and laugh against my hands. My co-workers move closer to the walls of the elevator, away from me. The door dings open. I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief when I step off.

  Would Snake really kill me if I don’t go through with this? Would he really shoot me with the gun he’s always trying to scare me with? It’s so hard to imagine that he would, especially after the other night.

  Oh God, the other night, what was I thinking? I close the door to my office, my skin flushing red with the memories that have invaded my brain since Snake invaded me with his you know what. I can still feel the tight grip of his hands on my waist, the power of his thrusts between my legs, and that rock solid, slithering snake inside of me.

  It was justified, I tell my myself, sitting behind my desk. It was a covert mission to regain his trust.

  “Right,” I murmur, rubbing my temples. I don’t allow my thoughts to turn to Jake. I don’t let the guilt that’s simmering in my stomach to bubble up to the top. I know I’ll have to eventually face it, but I can’t handle that right now.

  So, I fucked Snake. I nurtured his little crush on me. He’s less likely to kill me now. That’s a good thing.

  But the way he looked at me, the way he cradled me in his arms all night, it wasn’t just about fucking. I need to be more careful in the future. I can’t lead him on for too long. After all, I’m still planning on killing his boss, right?

  I lay my head on my desk. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. It wasn’t supposed to go this far. I wasn’t actually planning on going through with major credit fraud. But the crazy thing is, this scheme could work. We could pull in millions in one year. Excitement shoots through me. I’ve always loved a good plan. Of course, I would be making money for the man who killed my fiancé. But if I show I’m a diligent, loyal friend of the mob, Snake, Monty, and the whole crew would fully trust me. Maybe I need to go through with this, push it as far as I can, then strike when they least expect it.

  And I don’t have a choice. I spent the previous night awake in bed, with Snake just yards away sleeping on the couch, trying to think of a way to get out of this. Snake wouldn’t kill me, I know that. But if I blow this business deal, it will be both of our necks on the line. And if I ran, they would find me.

  Just get this over with. Then you can figure things out.

  I pick up my desk phone and press a few buttons.

  “Good morning, Toby,” I say, in an attempt to sound cheerful. “What are you doing for lunch today?”

  *

  A minor complication. A bump in the road. You’ll have another chance to kill Monty.

  That’s what I’m thinking as I white knuckle the steering wheel. Toby is in the passenger seat beside me. He holds his laptop bag between his knees, his shoulders hunched over. I should talk to him, to put him at ease, but my mind is fucking racing. I’m so nervous. It feels like there’s a thousand tiny needles all over my skin, pricking into me all at once. My forehead is shiny with sweat. I should turn around, and drive in the opposite direction. But with the tracking device on my car, that’s not an option. Snake would know the second I went off course.

  “Are you hot?” I ask him, cranking up the air-conditioner.

  Toby flinches at my movements. If he’s scared now, wait until he sees what’s coming.

  “I know this great little Italian sandwich shop,” I say, trying to appear normal.

  Toby clears his throa
t and croaks, “Sounds good.”

  I take a shuttering breath. Get a grip. You have to do this, and you have to do this well. That’s the only way Snake will trust you again. That’s the only way you can avenge Jake.

  I look at Toby with a gentle smile. “You can relax. I’m not going to bite your head off.”

  Toby forces a brief smile, then nervously rubs his knees.

  At the Italian grocer, the same guys are behind the counter from the other day, including Rick. They all greet me with a smile. They must be expecting me.

  “The usual?” Rick asks me.

  I nod, then flash him two fingers. We’re the only customers here right now. I lead Toby to a table tucked in the back corner.

  “You must come here a lot,” Toby says. “They know your order and everything.”

  “Like I said, the sandwiches are really good,” I say. I quickly look around. Snake and Bruno aren’t here yet.

  Toby wipes his forehead, then leans forward, twiddling his thumbs. “Look, Jess, I’m sorry I told Steve about our little… thing. I was so scared, I didn’t know what else to do. I hate breaking the rules.”

  I wave my hand at him. “Oh, I’ve nearly forgotten about that. It’s no big deal. I wasn’t fired or anything.” I make sure to look directly into his eyes. “You know they would never fire me, right? My father was one of the first investors in ShopSuite enterprises.”

  “Oh,” Toby says, blinking. “I didn't know that.”

  “Anyway,” I clap my hands together. There’s a sparkling feeling going up my spine. I’m starting to enjoy this. “That’s not why we’re here. I wanted to buy your lunch, as a way of saying thank you.”

  “For what?”

  I playfully nudge his arm. “For being such a team player. Thanks to the list you’ve compiled, I’ve made a breakthrough. And I’m going to need your help on a very special project.”

  The door dings as someone else walks into the shop. I don’t have to look to know who it is. I continue holding Toby’s gaze.

  “Only this time,” I continue. “You’re not going to say a word to anyone. Got that?”

  Toby nods quickly, then draws his gaze up to the two men now standing behind me. Bruno, large and powerful, is to my left. He has a black hood pulled low over his head. With his huge build, he looks like a faceless monster. On my right is Snake. I can smell his dark presence. He’s cool and calm in his tailored black suit, which gives him a dangerous aura. Toby instinctively sits up straight. That sparkling feeling is spreading its way through my veins. Is this what power feels like? If so, it’s intoxicating, and more satisfying than liquor.

  “What’s going on?” Toby asks, his eyes darting left and right.

  “Listen to me, Toby,” I say in an even voice. “And listen carefully. You’re not going to say anything, because the consequences will be much worse this time. And it’s not just yourself you should be worried about. Is your mother still at her La Brea Drive address?”

  Toby narrows his eyes at me, then blinks up at Snake and Bruno. “Who are you?”

  Bruno answers by rolling up his sleeves, revealing thick wrists and muscled forearms. Toby literally starts to shake. He looks towards the counter.

  “Hey,” Toby shouts to Rick. “Can I get some help here?”

  Rick barely gives him a passing glance, then goes back to slicing fresh mozzarella.

  “He’s not going to help you,” I say, bluntly. “No one here is.”

  Snake steps forward, and grabs Toby’s bag from under the table. “Let me get that for you,” Snake says. “Come with us.” He gestures towards the stairwell in the back.

  Bruno creeps in closer, towering over Toby. The chair scuttles out from under him as Toby scrambles to his feet. Bruno walks closely behind Toby, that wall of muscle forcing him towards the back. I start to follow them, but Snake grabs my arm.

  “Are you sure you still want to be here?” he asks me. “You can leave now. Let Bruno and I handle it.”

  I yank my arm away from him. “You’re not going to handle anything without me.” I glare at him to show him I’m serious. I’m done with men who want to take care of everything while I sit in the corner.

  It’s a quiet walk up the flights of stairs to Snake’s apartment. Once inside, Snake invites Toby to sit at the kitchen table, and offers him something to drink.

  “No, no,” Toby says in stuttering gasps. “I’m fine.”

  I’ve never done anything like this before, so I stand to the side, observing Snake and Bruno. They both stand, sandwiching Toby on both sides, looming over him. Bruno is silent, but terrifying, while Snake does all the talking.

  “Now, Toby,” Snake says, laying a hand on his shoulder. “No one has to get hurt today. You can walk out of here without a scratch on you, but only if you cooperate.”

  “What do you want?” Toby asks.

  Bruno pounds his fist onto the table, nearly breaking the wooden surface in two.

  “You don’t talk,” Snake says. “You listen. Your brilliant boss, the beautiful Jess Hunt over here, has stumbled upon a lucrative business opportunity, and we simply want to employ your technical services, for which you’ll be generously paid.” He squeezes Toby’s shoulder a little harder. “Sounds good, right?”

  “This is about the credit card numbers.” Toby grabs his hair by the root, pulling it straight up. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I said, don’t talk,” Snake says. He pauses, wiping a bit of dust off of his suit jacket, then says, “Do you need proof that we mean business? Bruno, break his finger.”

  Bruno grabs Toby’s wrist, then isolates the index finger on his left hand, and holds it in a tight fist. Toby is sweating and shaking. He looks like he’s going to melt into a puddle of fear. If there’s anything I’ve learned from working with Toby’s, it’s that you can only scare him so much before everything turns to shit. These guys are about to fuck everything up before we even get started. Lucky for them, I’m here.

  “Bruno,” I say softly. “Wait.”

  Bruno drops Toby’s hand. Toby doubles over, gasping for breath. I take a seat at the table across from him.

  “How much are they paying you at ShopSuite?” I ask him.

  Toby blinks up at me with confusion. I can tell he’s barely processing the questions. “What? I don’t- I’m a contract employee. I get an hourly wage.”

  I bend down, meeting his gaze. “Look at me, Toby. Calm down. Breathe. That’s it. So, what do you get, fifteen, twenty bucks an hour? No benefits. You’re paying for health insurance out of pocket. You’ve got no retirement fund. Nothing. And let me guess, you’ve got student loans too.”

  Toby seems to relax a little. His shaking subsides. I lean closer to him.

  “What we’re offering you is a side hustle, a very lucrative one. You’ll get a take.”

  “It’s illegal,” Toby spits, looking warily at the two mobsters.

  I chortle. “You want to talk about legality? What about all the lawsuits ShopSuite conveniently settles out of court? They break the law, and they’re not held accountable. They don’t hold a moral high ground here.”

  I reach for Toby’s bag, slide out his laptop, and open it on the table. I briefly explain that a surcharge needs to be added to each order, with the money funneled into another account. From the look on Toby’s face, I can tell that this is totally doable. And Toby’s a smart guy. He’s probably already doing the math in his head, and getting a sense of the amount of money we’re talking about.

  “You’re just pressing a few buttons,” I say encouragingly. “You’re not hurting anyone. Think about it, you’ll be able to pay off those loans, even buy yourself a car. You won’t have to take the bus anymore. Should an educated, fully employed young man be reduced to riding a bus? It doesn’t seem fair to me.”

  Toby glances at the screen tentatively. His fingers curl, as if preparing to type. He shakes his head.

  “I don’t want to be complicit in this,” he says, his final ga
sp of resistance.

  “Oh, Toby.” I grab his hand, and stroke the back of it with my thumb. “You already are. Now get to work, or you’ll have to deal with him.” I point to Bruno, who stands behind me, large and solid like a wall of stone. The color drains from Toby’s face. “So what do you choose, a new car, or getting beaten to a pulp by the beast here?”

  Toby takes less than a second to weigh his options, then hunches over his keyboard, typing away.

  I did it, I think, with a rush of euphoria. A tingling starts at my toes, then travels up my legs, through my torso, to the top of my head. It’s a lightheaded, drunken feeling. Without thinking, my feet move under me, propelling me up from the seat. I quickly rush to Snake’s bathroom and open a window to get some fresh air. I breathe deeply, tasting car exhaust from the traffic below. My head is spinning. I feel like I could collapse at any time. I’ve never felt this powerful, this strong. It’s like an antidote to my relationship with Jake. With him, I was helpless.

  I hear the bathroom door open. Suddenly, Snake’s by my side.

  “Are you okay?” he says, close to my ear.

  I turn to him, lifting my hands to show how violently they’re shaking. Snake smiles, pressing my hand between his palms.

  “It’s the adrenaline,” Snake says. “It’s a crazy feeling, isn’t it. It’s the best thing in the world, and the scariest, all at the same time. I bet you feel like you could jump out of that window and fly over the city.”

  I glance down at the heavy traffic. “That’s exactly what it feels like,” I say. “What’s the best way to deal with it?”

  Snake shrugs. “Usually I head to the bar, pick up a chick or two, and fuck it out of my system.” He flashes me a cocky, dimpled grin. It sets something off inside of me.

  Fucking it out of my system, that sounds good.

  Snake’s expression changes, and I realize I’m staring at him, hard. I suppress the thoughts racing through my head, the myriad of voices telling me that this is a terrible idea. I fling my arms around Snake’s neck, then jump up on him, squeezing my legs around his waist. Snake plants his hands on my ass, holding me steady. He stares at my face for a few seconds before backing me up against a wall and kissing me deeply.