Curtis (8 page)

“How much?” When he didn’t answer
quickly enough for him, he hit him again. “How much is there? And why wasn’t I
ever told about it?”

The cold laughter made his skin crawl.
He and his father had never gotten along and that morning was simply the
breaking point. He hit his father again and watched the blood pour from his
mouth. He was as good as dead and they both knew it.

All he’d wanted was to have his own
territory to run. He’d felt that being the number two man on the payroll had
been going on long enough. Especially in light of the fact that Eric had killed
off the number one guy that morning. He wanted to be able to expand into things
his father hadn’t wanted. Drugs, for one, and also prostitution, as well as a
few other things his father had always stayed away from. And when he’d laughed
at him, well, Eric had never been known for a cool head.

“You’d have blown it up your nose and,
if that didn’t work, then you would have gotten us caught.” The laughter again
pissed him off. “Besides, you’ve never been worth a fucking thin dime since you
spewed from your mother’s pussy.”

He thought about it later and knew that
his father had made him kill him. He’d been in a great deal of pain, Eric knew.
He’d done the damage to him all by himself. But killing his father hadn’t
gotten him shit and now that the building was this close, the fucking bastard
was still laughing at him. He should have taken a deep breath and let him
suffer more, but he’d broken his neck then and, in the way of their family, had
sawed his head off along with his hands. When he had some problems with the
tongue he’d simply left the pieces of it on the corpse and walked away after
tossing the house. Throwing the head and hands in the dumpster had been another
bad move, but it was done now and Eric had moved on.

The money in his father’s desk drawer,
as well as the money and jewels he’d found throughout the house, had been a
nice payday. About ten million in cash and gold. There might have been more,
but he didn’t know the combination to the safe and was pretty sure his father
had planned it that way. Whenever he’d asked him for it he’d tell him that the
lawyer was the only one who knew it and he’d been out of town.

Eric had found the lawyer afterwards and
the man hadn’t known dick. And Eric had given him every opportunity to tell him
too. Right up until he’d severed his head as well. Over the years, nearly ten
now, he’d gotten much better at what he liked to call his signature. Having to
kill off so many idiots in his father’s employment had helped on that score. But
now he was nearly broke.

It had taken him nearly a decade to
figure out what his father had been talking about. The bank robbery had
happened nearly about the time he’d been born, thirty years ago. His father had
been a bank/anything else robber since before he’d met his mom. Then, as the
years had gone by, with the money not going as far, he’d taken to going into
bigger banks and taking more cash until he’d been nearly caught. Then the man
had simply been a doormat and had been doing small shit since shortly before
his death.

Now what? He had to get the building. According
to the article, and it had been a piss poor one at that, there were three
people dead, two of them cops and one a bank manager, and an undisclosed amount
of money. Undisclosed? What kind of bank didn’t know how much money was in it? He
wanted to scream at the paper for such shitty work, but he couldn’t afford to
piss off the family any more until he had the building, then the money first.

Who would she have sold it to? No one
around here had enough money for it. And there was the added knowledge that the
place was falling down around their ears. Someone stupid enough to pay more
than he’d offered must have known about the money too.

He sat down at his desk and looked at
the phone. Someone had to know. He pulled the phone toward him and then
searched for a phonebook. He was still looking when his cook came in with his
lunch tray. He asked her if she knew how to find out who had purchased a
building that had been for sale.

“They put those in the paper on Sunday. All
the transfers, I mean. It sometimes takes a bit if there’s only one or two. But
it gets in there mostly on time. Who you looking for?”

Mary Phyllis had been working for him
long enough not to ask questions about most things. Like the body in the
corner. Eric knew that she’d seen it. Her pause with the tray at the door told
him that, but she’d not said a word and had acted like it was nothing out of
the ordinary.

“The newspaper on Biloxi Avenue. I’ve
heard that it was bought recently and was wondering who might have bought it.”

She looked at him strangely then
finished her task. “Didn’t know it was for sale. I knew the owners were having
some problems. Hard to live in this town without hearing everything.” She held
out his chair for him as he moved to the little table he always used. “I’ll
keep my ear out. Might be some bigger company that wants to keep it close to
the vest. But I’ll get it for you.”

She moved out of the room, pausing again
at the doorway to look over at the body. She told him that she’d have that mess
taken care of pronto and went out, closing the door behind her. Eric threw back
his head and laughed. She’d made it sound as if there was a spot on the carpet
and that she’d have it cleaned right away. He decided that she needed a raise
and tucked into his lunch.

Tomorrow he’d see what he could find out
about the Washington girl and her old man. Then he’d start to see about making
some…changes at the Washington building, beginning with setting some small
fires and hoping for a large scale one. Nothing like a burnt out shell of a
building to get someone to back off of what he’d come to think of as his.

Eric ignored the man who came in and
picked up the body. He also ignored Mary when she came in to fuss over the real
stains on the floor. But the smell of cleaning fluids he could not ignore. He
gathered up is coat and phone and left the house. He knew without a doubt that
the place would be spotless when he returned, and the smells a lingering
reminder to not do his business at home again would be gone as well. Grinning,
he went to see about some of the shipments he had coming in.

Chapter 7

Kylie paced her house knowing that she
needed to pack. Glaring at the piles of her things around the room she wondered
how on earth she’d gathered so much stuff in such a short amount of time. The
boxes seemed to mock her as she thought about the conversation she’d had with
Daniel yesterday.

“Well? Do you love him or not? Because I’m
reasonably sure that he’s loved you longer than you have me.” She’d looked at
him in shock, but said nothing. “I know that he’s leaving tomorrow to give me
the opportunity to settle down and marry you. But you no longer want that, do
you?”

When she finally found her voice it was
husky and hurt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d been infatuated
with you…a childhood crush, but love you…” She didn’t continue because she found
that what she was saying was true. She didn’t love Daniel. She’d only been
madly in love with the thought of loving him. His knowing grin had pissed her
off.

“So you do love him. It’s a good thing
too. I would hate to see you two mess up what could be a good relationship over
some old crush.” He stood then and came toward her. “So, when do you tell him? Or
are you going to let him go to Paris and live in misery?”

She’d thought about it. More than she’d
wanted to. More, probably, than she thought Curtis would have, but in the end
she’d left Daniel and come here. To her house that was set to be foreclosed on
in a few days.

She thought about her childhood living
with the Hunters across the street. While they’d been growing up Daniel had
been the one who would talk to her while Curtis would stare at her. He’d been
sweet, she remembered, but nothing like his brothers. He’d been sweet and all,
but not her Daniel. But she kept drifting back to the bank and what she’d
learned.

She’d gotten a lot of information when
she’d gone to the bank this morning. Not only was the house in the company name,
but it too had been mortgaged several times over. Her dad, it seemed, had gone
to two banks at the same time and had asked for and received a loan against it.
She owed more on the house than the house was currently worth. She could in no
way fix this. Not that she wanted to try.

Then there were the credit cards. All of
them had been closed, of course, but the amount on them, paper for the
printers, ink, business luncheons as well as a plethora of other things needed
to run a large paper. She had looked at the staggering amount and cried. The
banker, a new person she’d never dealt with before, had left her in his office
to “compose” herself. Like that was even going to be a possibility now.

She looked at the front door when the
bell chimed. The car dealership had delivered her car back to her an hour ago
without a word. She’d been handed the title and the keys and he left. She
wondered if she should have told him to take it back, but by the time she’d
thought of it he was gone. They had repossessed it while she’d been having
lunch with Daniel yesterday just as she’d thought they would.

She looked out the small window on the
side of the door and didn’t recognize the man standing there. She was about to
tell him to go away, she was busy, when he knocked hard on the wood.

“Miss Washington, it’s Eric Howe. We
spoke the other day. I wanted to talk to you about the newspaper and see if you’d
reconsider selling it to the other group. I have a sentimental attachment to it
and really wanted to speak to you.”

She saw his smile and knew he’d seen
her. But she didn’t trust him. There was something…well, creepy about him. And
his smile, it looked like he had been practicing it for years and had perfected
it to be friendly. She could see where it might work on some, but not her. She
didn’t open the door, but spoke to him through it. “I told you the other day
that it’s over with, Mr. Howe. I’ve already signed the papers and the new
owners will take it over as soon as the papers are filed.” The change on his
face was quick and furious. She felt herself back away from the window,
suddenly afraid. “You need to leave now.”

She watched him stretch his neck muscles
as if to try and control his anger. She wondered if he thought she was stupid
and decided that he more than likely did. He was also a man who was used to
getting what it wanted no matter what.

“Could you please give me the name…why
don’t you let me in? This is just silly talking through the door like this. We
could have this conversation sitting down and enjoying a cup of coffee or tea. I
assure you that you can trust me.” The smile was back, but as before, it didn’t
reach his eyes. Kylie reached for the umbrella she had in the stand next to the
door. “Maybe we can work out a deal between us that will be helpful and
fulfilling to everyone.”

She was sure that the only one going to
benefit was him and she wasn’t going to be happy with the results. “I’ve said
all I want to say to you, Mr. Howe. It’s time for you to leave. I will call the
police.”

He stood there for several minutes and,
just as she was about to pull out her cell phone, he nodded and backed away.
When he turned back her breath caught. Now here was the real Eric Howe, one to
be terrified of and, if he wanted her to be, she would be dead in a heartbeat.

“This isn’t over, Miss Washington.” He
moved his jacket and she saw the gun. “I’ll get the building one way or the
other.”

She sat down on the couch when he pulled
out of her driveway. She knew he’d be back and the next time, he wouldn’t be so
polite. She had a sudden urge to call Curtis and nearly screamed when her
doorbell rang again.

“I said to go away or I’d call the
police. I told you once already,” she yelled from the couch, “that I’m not
going to be able to sell to you. Go the fuck away.”

“Kylie?”

She whimpered when she heard the voice
on the other side and ran to open it. Curtis. She had no idea how she ended up
in his arms, but they were suddenly around her and she was safe. Safe for now
at least.

“I thought it was…I didn’t…” She took a
deep breath and looked up at him. “Hold me, please.”

He did. He pulled her into his body as
well as his arms. She did feel safe. She’d never felt so secure in her life and
she looked up into his eyes again. When he opened his mouth she knew that
whatever he was going to ask wasn’t going to be anything she wanted to talk
about, so she covered his with her own.

His moan nearly had her melt. His body
hardened against hers and she felt his cock swell. Wrapping herself around him,
she moaned when he lifted her ass up and she was able to hold onto him while he
took over their kiss. And when he did nothing else mattered.

“Kylie, I want you. Please tell me that
you want me as well.” She wanted him now and forever, but would take what she
could and kissed him again. “Bedroom?”

She pointed to the couch and he shook
his head. Her bedroom was a mess, but the spare only had boxes. She pointed the
way to the end of the hall and he took them both toward it. All the while his
hands were making short work of removing her shirt.