Page 8 of Betting Blind

That’s why they call me Hades.

Chapter 5

Emelia

My fingers curl around the cellphone in my palm as I wait for the screen to power on. Cheap burner phones are next to useless, and I hate them. I slide into the driver seat of a small sedan and flip down the visor mirror to assess my current wardrobe situation. Dusty green eyes stare back at me, and my lip raises in disgust at my hair, blonde is definitely not in my color palette. I peel the short blonde wig from my head and free my long, wavy black hair from the wig cap. It cascades down my shoulders not so elegantly, sticking out in all different directions from being confined.

The phone pings, alerting me that it is actually ready to do its job for once. I punch in the number and hold it to my ear while still assessing my reflection in the mirror. I drag the pad of my ring finger along my bottom lip, wiping away the excess red lipstick that I applied before going inside the hospital.

“Em.” Hector’s voice is quiet and clipped, all business and no-nonsense. Based on his tone I know he is either at a job of his own or he is with someone that isn’t in our inner circle.

“It’s done,” I say and shift the car into reverse, leaving the chaos in my rearview mirror. Chaos is probably too strong aword. The man was in a medically induced coma after heart surgery and medical complications can be expected during such a precarious time.

“Good. Maybe Lorenzo will take the hint,” Hector responds after a few moments. He’s probably moved somewhere more private. “He can’t expect to fuck with our money and us not retaliate.”

“Giordano was one of his least trusted advisors. Everyone knows he’s little more than a snake in the grass and will bite you the first chance he gets.” I narrow my eyes at the car in front of me that just decided to change lanes abruptly without a signal. Fuck, I hate driving. This is why I sit in the back with a screen between me and the idiots on the road. I’m so keyed up at this point from the adrenaline that I’m more likely to shoot someone that pisses me off instead of walking away. Jokes. I’m always more likely to do that whether I’m keyed up or not.

“I’m not entirely sure that Giordano was working solely for Lorenzo and his crew. You need to be careful. You know we don’t like you getting involved. It’s not safe.”

“Don’t lecture me about safety, Hector. I essentially just killed a man without lifting a finger,” I say matter-of-factly, waving my hand in the air with a slight shrug even though he can’t see me.

“The man that was in a coma? Right. I’m sure he put up a real fight, Little Bird.” I can practically hear the smirk. “Where are you?”

“Need I remind you that the black eye and broken nose you are currently sporting both came from me.” I grin and glance into the rearview mirror before changing lanes, WITH my turn signal. “I’m almost back at the safe house off of Patterson.” I pull into a fast food drive-thru and roll down my window.

“I’ll be there in about an hour. I have to finish up with these guys,” Hector pauses when the staticky voice comes across the speaker asking for my order. “Are you at the fucking drive-thru?” he hisses through the phone. The boys always get so antsy when I’m out and about without protection.

“What? I’m hungry! Can I have a cheeseburger with fries and a coke, please?” I say to the speaker and grin at Hector’s groan. I pull around to the window and fish for my wallet. “Murder always makes me hungry.”

“You seriously need help. You should call your therapist and request an increase in sessions because one every three months is clearly not enough,” Hector teases before turning serious again. “Get to the safe house and make sure you drop the phone.”

I pay for my food and take the bag and drink from the nice lady in the window. She gives me a halfhearted smile and waves her hand before sliding the window closed again. “This is not my first rodeo, cowboy. I know the drill. See you soon.”

“Emerson is waiting for you in the basement.” Hector hangs up, leaving me to my delicious reward. Hot, greasy french fries are my number one guilty pleasure. I remove the battery and toss the phone in the trash can as I drive by, all while stuffing my face full of fries. In a world full of death and destruction, they seem to be my only rays of golden sunshine.

Emerson meets me at the door when I pull into the basement garage of the safe house. He’s wearing his usual three-piece gray suit and his deep olive skin really stands out against the color. His eyes briefly flash with relief before he rolls them at me when I emerge with a mouth full of fries, a fast food bag in one hand, and my drink in the other. “I’mnot even going to make a comment.” He waves his hand and ushers me into the house.

Once we are tucked into our secure room, he sits on a long sofa along the back wall. He leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees, fingers steepling in front of him. “It’s done then?”

A sharp ache radiates through my chest, the pain squeezing my heart. It takes me off guard for a moment and I almost choke on my food. He looks just like my uncle sitting there, waiting for my debriefing. I’m sure that Emerson picked up several mannerisms from him during all those years they worked so closely together.

“It is. Hector will be here within the hour. I’ll debrief you both once he’s here. You know I don’t like to repeat myself.” He nods and leans back against the black cushions, the leather squeaking quietly under his weight. “Until then…” I sit down at the small conference table and spread out my food. “I’m going to enjoy this well earned cheeseburger and pretend I won’t feel sick from it later.”

“You are a truly unique creature, Emelia, you know that don’t you?” He chuckles and pulls out his phone to pass the time.

“That’s one word for it,” I agree with a small chuckle and dig into my food, savoring the warm deliciousness that you can only find in a fast food cheeseburger.

We only have to wait about thirty minutes before Hector strolls into the room and locks the heavy metal door behind him. He’s in a clean pair of jeans, with a black short sleeve shirt gripping his biceps and revealing his tattoos. The room is soundproof, bulletproof, and has a separate ventilation system. It would make all the doom’s day preppers proud.

The walls are a thick steel with a thin layer of drywall because I absolutely refused to be stuck in a silver box for long hours, and insisted on being able to paint. So the walls and the ceiling are a deep emerald green that contrast with the black and white checkered floor. There are a few paintings hung that I found aesthetically pleasing, along with several framed photos of me and Diego, my family, Hector, and Emerson. Our inner circle.

I take a long pull from my straw as Hector sits down beside Emerson on the sofa. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” I begin somberly but can’t keep a straight face and crack up. Both Emerson and Hector roll their eyes to the ceiling and groan at my terrible humor. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” Bless them for being so patient with their fearless and slightly psychotic leader.

I clear my throat and start again. “Giordano is dead as of about two hours ago. We should watch Lorenzo closely for any form of retaliation, but I really don’t expect him to because Giordano was a rat. No one could ever prove his disloyalty, but I know there will be no love lost between them.”

“I still feel like there are bigger forces to worry about with his death. If he wasn’t loyal to Lorenzo he was loyal to someone, and that someone might not appreciate him being dead.” Hector deadpans in my direction and I simply shrug a shoulder, neither confirming nor denying his worry.

Emerson nods slowly and leans forward again. “We’ll increase security at The Black Crown and make sure the warehouses are emptied within the next two days. We’ll move everything to new, secure locations before we are suspected of the hit and are monitored.”

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