Page 8 of Queen of Madness

Fuck, if it wasn’t for the fact that I needed to take care of my mother, I might have succumbed to the dread and rage swirling in my mind, threatening to shred it to nothing but bad decisions—ones that would have gotten us both killed.

My mother was passed out on the couch, an episode ofThe Price is Rightplaying at low volume on the TV. Her prepackaged dinner I’d left for her was half eaten and hanging partially off the edge of the coffee table. After having her move to her bed, I double-checked if she had enough medicine to last her a few weeks, and then made myself so damn busy, I had no time to think. Between cleaning and meal prepping for my mom, I was finally able to breathe.

But it wasn’t enough work to keep me busy for long, and with nothing left to do but surrender to the pressure driving me into the ground, I researched.Hoursof research. I needed to know more, and fast.

On public fronts, I was able to discover that the Embros family isn’t really a family. There seems to be just Onyx and her uncle, and they actuallydoown a very large part of the real estate in Washington. All rental houses are under an LLC of Embros Hearts, and some are designated for low-income families. She also owns a foundation for victims of abuse, specializing in those involved in kidnapping and human trafficking. Insane amounts of her real estate profits are poured into her foundation and others like it along the West Coast. I’d almost say it’s a noble thing if I didn’t find private forums with rumors as to the truth behind Embros estate.

It’s home to some of the most dangerous people in America. Each associate of Onyx is known for various things, but most notable is the amount of blood on their hands. They don’t give a single fuck about taking anyone’s life, and from what I can tell, they are far more dangerous than their counterparts—the Murphys.

In every aspect, they are opposites. The Murphys own shipping containers and warehouses rather than homes. Instead of the underground gambling club the Embros run, the Murphys have more than a handful of strip clubs. Strip clubs that all guarantee happy endings to the highest payers, whether the dancer wants it or not.

The sleazy ass family is also different. All the leaders are blood related, and it’s rare for them to get their hands dirty. Instead, it seems like they pay their lackeys to take care of the messier tasks.

Though I’m sure I’ve only barely scratched the surface, it’s enough to give me a good idea of what my sister is enduring and what I’m walking into.

“I am so fucked.”

“Oh. I can give you another minute to decide.”

My eyes flash up to the pretty brown-haired waitress. Her face is flushed pink, and I wonder what else I may have muttered aloud. “Sorry about that. Just another beer is fine.”

She nods and hurries off to another table as I sink back into my thoughts.

I have everything to lose and absolutely nothing to gain from this. It makes me feel reckless and obligated at the same time. Both possibilities are pulling me from either side, and I’m unsure which one will win in the end. Which is shitty as hell, but I’m also able to admit that I’ve been unraveling at the seams for a long time, and there’s no telling what it will take to finally break the thin thread.

“They sayI’mmad.”A high-pitched, singsong voice steals my attention.

Across from me, Maddy’s sitting comfortably at my booth, leaning on one elbow, while drumming her finger across the wooden top. She’s dressed differently today, and I realize quickly this must be her work attire. Her wild red hair from Saturday is tamer, the curls tighter, brushing against the padded shoulders of her green blazer.

Seeing her makes my pulse thrum, and I rub against the thin skin on my wrist to calm the violent pounding. I’m not anxious or scared, though, just ready to get this started so I can get my sister back.

Maddy’s eyes shift briefly to my hands before she grins. “It’s quite normal to be neurotic, but you have me a tad concerned with your far-off gazes. We both can’t have our heads in the clouds, Z.”

Z. The nickname feels so personal, yet for some reason it doesn’t bother me when she uses it. “I’m good.”

“Hmm…” Maddy’s lips pull into a tight line as if she’s sincerely considering my two-word sentence. After another pause, she sighs. “Why wasn’t the almond allowed to join the club?”

Unlike her riddle from the other night, this one I know. “Because he’s nuts.”

A loud cackle rings out at the same time her delicate hand smacks against the table, jostling my beer. I catch it just before it tips and witness her pupils dilating so wide, they nearly push out the color, giving her a manic expression. But really, I’d expect nothing less.

My research into the dark web told me the five-foot-three tornado in heels is one deadly ass woman. Though I’m not one-hundred-percent sure, it’s said she’s in charge of the narcotics and has had to put a few people six feet under when they cross her with tainted drugs.

Looking at her now, I wouldn’t doubt it for a second.

“I like you, Z. I hope you last.”

Rather than read for the clarity in her words, I simply nod. “That wasn’t my interview question by any chance, was it?”

She hums, wagging a finger at me, and I notice three of her nails have dirt beneath them. “Don’t you wish. You want to ride in my chariot, or do you want to follow behind in that old hoopty?”

“I’ll follow.”

Maddy nods and taps the table twice before standing and brushing her hands over her dark-green slacks. Her eyes bounce around the bar, but when they don’t land on anything, she huffs from her nose and heads for the front door.

I trail behind her, observing the stray midday patrons who sneak glances as we walk past. When we get outside, she pops both hands on her hips, and inhales a large breath, poking out her petite chest. Even in the overcast, the spatter of freckles along her nose and cheeks seems to glow against her pale skin.

She’s such a peculiar woman, and I find myself more intrigued than wary. Which is probably not a good thing.

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