In Seconds (Bulletproof #2)(15)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Hang on a sec.” She heard jostling, then a door closing. When he came back on the line, he spoke more loudly. “Okay, I can talk.”

“Are you at the office?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s business?”

“Not quite what it was in D.C., but building.”

She remembered when he and Rex had started their bodyguard service, how pleased they’d been with their success. After selling out in D.C., Virgil had reincarnated the business under a different name when he moved to upstate New York. He had Peyton’s help now, at least in the office. Although she normally worked in corrections she’d left her job when they moved and didn’t plan to return to her career until the kids were older. Even with Peyton there three days a week, it wasn’t the same for Virgil. He missed Rex as a full-time partner. But once Rex’s mother died and his family blamed him for the grief he’d put her through, he’d gone downhill.

As much as Vivian wished it wasn’t so, she was sure their breakup had added to the problems that’d sent him into a tailspin.

Luckily for her, she hadn’t been around to see the worst of it. She’d heard about the fallout from Virgil, via his weekly emails. Then, during his more sober moments, Rex had begun calling her again, even though, for safety’s sake, he wasn’t supposed to.

“What exactly happened to your friend?” Virgil asked.

“Someone beat him to death.”

“Why?”

“He was robbed, but…this went far beyond robbery.”

“Who did it?”

“No one knows. Not yet. That’s why…why I was already nervous when I received your email.”

“You think there’s some connection between your Realtor’s death and our situation?”

“Maybe. That type of thing doesn’t happen here.”

“Didn’t you tell me you have a friend whose mother went missing?”

“Fifteen years ago, and there’s never been any proof of foul play. Maybe she simply walked off into the sunset.”

“How often does that happen?” he asked drily.

“Often enough.” She’d done it. Twice. She still wondered what the people at her job in Colorado must’ve thought when she left. One day she was there, the next she was gone, without any explanation or contact since. She did the same thing in D.C.

“There’s no rhyme or reason to Pat’s murder,” she told him. “He couldn’t have put up much of a fight. Word has it his wallet didn’t contain a lot. Why would he risk his life over fifty dollars?”

“You’ve lived there for two years. If The Crew had followed you, they would’ve acted by now. Don’t assume too much.”

“It’s not just that there’s been a murder,” she explained, terrible though that was. “It’s the violence involved. If you’d known this man… No one would want to kill him. He was in his sixties, sweet, harmless. Then, on the heels of his death, I get the news that Rex is missing.”

“Could be totally unrelated. Maybe Rex heard from his father, or one of his ‘successful’ brothers, and that sent him over the edge. You know how he is.”

She did know Rex. She knew what he’d done for her and Virgil in the past, what they owed him regardless of his self-destructive tendencies. “Surely The Crew can’t still be after us. It’s been four years since you and Rex quit the gang. Surely they’ve gotten tired of chasing us and turned their attention to other things.” She couldn’t come out of hiding, couldn’t present herself as a target, of course, but did she really have to worry about them searching for her? Still?

“That kind of thinking could get you killed.”

“I’m tired of running.”

“You have no choice.”

She eyed the walls she’d painted herself, remembered how important it was that she get the perfect color. These walls weren’t ordinary walls. They were her walls; she’d planned to look at them for years.

“Why?” she asked, unable to accept his answer. “How long could this grudge of theirs last?”

“After what we did?”

“We did nothing!” Everything Virgil had been through, everything she’d suffered as a result of being related to him, could be blamed on their uncle and mother. Thanks to Ellen’s soliciting her brother’s help, Gary Lawson had killed Martin Crawley, their step father, then let Virgil pay for it. If Virgil hadn’t spent so much time in prison, he wouldn’t have joined The Crew, or had to get out of it, and they wouldn’t have tried to kill her as both warning and retribution.

“That’s not strictly true,” he said. “When they came after you in Colorado, I told the authorities everything I knew about them. Several of those guys went to prison, and two of the ones already inside were dumped into the federal system and moved because of me.”

“You would’ve kept your word and stayed silent if they hadn’t tried to kill me. That’s when you decided you owed them nothing.”

“Doesn’t matter. As far as they’re concerned, Rex and I are both traitors. They’d love nothing more than to make examples out of all of us.”

“But—”

“Listen, I was trusted by those who held power, put above others who’ve remained loyal. It humiliated them when I left. And if they can’t get to me, they’ll go after you again. Especially since they lost some of their own in Colorado. Getting to you would be just as good as getting to me, because they know it would kill me to see you or your children hurt.”

“It’s just so pointless to keep this going! Revenge is…stupid!”

“To you and me. But there’s nothing worse to a gang leader than appearing weak. It’s about street cred, taking care of business. That’s all they have—their pride in being badasses.”

She found it hard not to resent him at this moment, no matter how close they’d always been. If not for him, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. But it wasn’t his fault. In her heart, she knew that. They were both victims of circumstance and had done the best they could to handle what was thrown their way. “They have to make a living, too. Isn’t that hard enough? Doesn’t running prostitution rings and—and smuggling drugs and evading police take time and effort? My business is legitimate, yet it takes every ounce of energy I’ve got.”