Renee 3 Read online

  “Let the past stay in the past,” Renee whispered. She dropped him, his body pounding against the floor. She stood there and took in all of Calloway. She marveled over the darkened bags beneath his eyes and the multiple cracks crisscrossing his lips, identical to the formation of the fresh scars garnishing his arms. The dirt lodged under his nails hadn’t gone unnoticed, along with the photograph sticking out of his pocket. She pulled the picture from its safe haven and cleared Calloway’s, Fergus’s, and Dane’s faces of the white residue acting as a mask. Renee’s lips struggled to find comfort. They stretched, poked out, and even dropped beneath her teeth. She crumpled the photo, gave one last look at his scars soiled with dried blood, and stuffed the photograph back into his pocket. “Don’t ever say I never gave you anything.”

  She left Calloway alone and dead on her living room floor, only to return shortly with a black case. She dropped herself down beside him, her knees slamming into a puddle of blood. Flying into the air, the red liquid landed on her face. Her hair fell forward. She pushed it out of her face, and blood traveled from her cheeks into her hair. She opened the case, and tools and dismembering necessities shined to perfection sat inside velvet pockets. Renee looked in the direction of her dining room’s staircase, hoping Jared remained stuck in bed. This kill was not made for a pack, but the queen of the jungle.

  * * *

  Oversized blackout sunglasses sat high on the bridge of Renee’s nose. Miami passed by her window in a sea of blur. Renee sat immobile, yet her mind was an assembly line where numerous thoughts eventually came together and ate away at her calmness. Renee constantly flexed her fingers, her fear of meeting with Dane seeping through.

  Beside her, in the vehicle transporting them from the helicopter to their destination, Jared sat calmly. However, he couldn’t help wondering what attacked Renee’s peace. Her fidgety hands, spaced-out stare, and two-word responses exposed her discomfort. He wished she’d speak to him about how she was feeling, but requesting such a thing was like digging for a needle in a haystack. Renee looked farther into the closed window, her pretend admiration of the town falling short. She opened her fist, and Jared’s hand fell into hers. Seeing their fingers intertwine slowed her breathing. Handholding was such a natural, effortless sign of affection. However, it ate at her and built her up all at once. Watching the car swerve into the driveway, Renee squeezed his hand and held her breath.

  Chapter 17

  There used to be a time when people waited for her and meetings began upon her arrival. Now Renee stood in the small rented beach house waiting for the royalty who had crowned and then dethroned her. Earth tones painted the walls and colored the furniture, and the soothing environment was unsettling to Renee. This place reeked of personalities outside of Dane’s and Metro’s. That alone worried Renee more as to why she was called. Were there fronts being put up, additional boundaries being made, or was there simply a new taste in interior design?

  “I don’t know if we’re here for a meeting or to meditate,” Jared admitted.

  Renee tightened her grip on the handles of the square bag she carried around, no longer confident in her gift.

  Footsteps murmured from the upper level and made their way down to the first floor. The slow shuffle of feet boomed inside Renee’s ears and built a moment of suspense. Renee was sure she heard the floorboards and panels move out of place with every given step. Jared moved alongside Renee, birds in their cages stationed on the living room’s end tables, hopping around and chirping. The calm melody was relaxing the two in a moment when they needed to be hard. Only a few feet away, steps were heard turning the corner. Renee could imagine the figures stepping off the last step onto the landing, preparing to make their entrance.

  “I see we’re moving backward now, huh, Renee?” Metro smirked, disappointment covering his face at the sight of Jared.

  “I consider it moving forward, Merritt.”

  Metro couldn’t remember the last time anyone called him by his government name, the name he despised. It took him back to his childhood when that was the only name he answered to. He was forced to bury it when he decided that man couldn’t take him where he needed to be. The rage erupting from Metro’s chest was evident through his breathing pattern. His chest couldn’t deflate, and his breathing wouldn’t quiet down. He moved in closer to Renee, his quick movements forcing Jared to step in front of her, king protecting queen. From behind Jared’s shoulder, Renee smiled. There would be no repeat of what transpired the last time they met. Metro locked eyes with her and stepped back, the imagery of him hitting her too vivid and overpowering to avoid.

  “Thank you for coming,” Metro told Renee, showing the aggression he once held at bay.

  Now that Metro was a comfortable distance away from Renee, Jared removed himself from between them.

  “What do you want?” she spat, the question burning on contact.

  “Dane needs you, so come with me.” Metro disappeared the way he entered.

  Swallowing, Renee closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There were but so many emotions she could hide, but so many walls she could continue building. Shaking her head to rid herself of her discomfort and the resentment she felt toward her mentors, she pushed herself to get answers.

  On the verge of separating herself from Jared, Renee told him, “I’ll be right back.” With her free hand, she touched his face, and then she quickly instructed her feet out of the room.

  Around the corner, she bumped into a waiting Metro. “Welcome back.”

  Renee’s left hand grabbed ahold of the banister, her right hand gripping the handles of her bag so tightly it hurt. Tired of the tit for tat, she threw caution to the wind and tossed the bag at Metro’s feet. She hadn’t imagined revealing its contents this way, but timing no longer mattered.

  Eventually, Metro dropped on one knee and unzipped the bag, backing up fiercely into a wall. The stench it held threw him backward and jumbled his thoughts. With a scrunched-up face, he looked Renee’s way. Her unresponsive stare pulled him to the bag again, and this time he looked inside. What lay within the carrier occupied his attention for quite some time. He had to tear himself away from the visual.

  “My peace offering,” Renee expressed. “I fucked up. I know that now, and it will not happen again.”

  “Is that Calloway?” Metro questioned. Pulling open the bag more, he observed the decomposing head staring back at him.

  “Yes, and next time it will be Carmen. Consider him the appetizer.” Renee’s response was cold and inhuman. She kicked the bag to the side, and Calloway’s head rolled out.

  Closing the space that divided them, Metro raced over to Renee and pulled her into a hug. “This is what I was waiting for. This is how you should be at all times. Whenever family is harmed, you fight. You never tap out,” he instructed. Not all love was the same, not all love made sense, and not all love was kind. In some families, normal families, ties are cut once you hurt, let alone try to murder one another. However, in highly dysfunctional, unstable, criminal lives, love is determined and gained through loyalty and is proven based on the pain cast on the enemy.

  Renee closed her eyes, tears drizzling down her cheeks. Things were the hardest they’d ever been between her and the power couple. Each took dangerous and disrespectful steps against one another, but when it was all said and done, the comradery and love couldn’t conclude. They lived in a world where pain connected them, the type of pain many hadn’t and would never experience, so she couldn’t hold a grudge. She wouldn’t hold a grudge.

  After seconds of feeling their circle slowly reconnect, Metro broke the silence. “Make things right with Julian, and whatever you built on your own bring into the business. Let’s start over.”

  Renee’s eyes shot open. The thought of Julian stiffened her body and stole her comfort. Julian was a different story. He did what no one could. He captured her heart, built it up. He made her feel, made her love, and dared to seek a pain-free life. Julian made her human only to crush her
.

  Immediately, Metro noticed her shift of happiness. He pulled away. Focusing on Renee, he noticed Jared peeking around the corner. “If you can forgive us, you can forgive him, so make it right not for us, but for you.” Metro looked at Jared once more.

  Before responding, Renee, for once, listened to what her heart had to tell her. She allowed it to speak without silencing it and downplaying its emotions. Renee paid close attention to the reactions it gave her, the good, the bad, and the indifferent. She weighed which stood strong and which dissolved not long after being given a thought. Drying her cheeks, Renee nodded. “Which way is your room?” she inquired.

  “The second door to the left.”

  Renee jogged up the steps, preparing herself for her meeting with Dane. Dane and Metro’s bedroom door was shut. Before entering, Renee listened for a sign of movement, a tip as to what she should expect before entering. Renee didn’t know why she couldn’t open the door. She had made good with Metro, the one who voted her off the island, yet she couldn’t face Dane. Maybe it was because part of her resented Dane for not standing up for her and allowing their friendship to be thrown away.

  Before she punked out and lost the strength to open the door, Renee turned the doorknob and walked inside. Sunlight crashed inside the room from the terrace’s slightly ajar doors. The smell of lavender sugar drops floated in the air, and bamboo furniture shined against the light. The bedroom’s tropical aura was a medicine many dreamed of bottling and selling but never could capture. Renee ran a hand over a fluffy pillow positioned on a chair with the stitching of a kitten on it.

  “It’s all too calming, but Metro thinks I need to relax. He thinks tranquility will help clear my mind and strengthen me. But little does he know the anger festering inside of me is what makes me want to get out of this bed,” Dane said.

  On a massive bed surrounded by pillows, Dane sat up, her body drowning in cotton bedding. Renee’s heart collapsed when she zeroed in on the bandage applied to Dane’s head and the cuts and bruises on her arms. She marched over and flung the gigantic pillows plastered with images of rainfalls and exotic flowers off the bed and plopped down.

  “What happened to you?”

  Dane smirked, her head seeping into one of the oversized pillows. “Would you believe that little bitch got me? The first time in years a bullet knocked me off my feet.”

  Storm clouds darkened Renee’s eyes and sharpened her rage. “Carmen.”

  Dane’s lip curled. “She knocked me off my feet, but not off the earth. The bullet grazed my head, and two others hit me in the chest, but Lucky over there took one for the team.” The battered bulletproof vest she referred to as Lucky sat snug on the glazed wooden chair.

  It took a lot for Renee not to stampede through Miami in search of Carmen and put down the monster she should have gotten rid of a long time ago. It was always on her agenda to delete Carmen when she discovered the truth, but being stripped of all her connections set her back. So she took some time to rebuild, revamp, and reorganize her life in order to give Carmen the pain she deserved. But her shooting Dane took things too far and confirmed she had to take her out and quickly.

  “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for me to crash her mother’s funeral.” Laughter trickled out of Dane’s mouth. The thought of Carmen’s pain was all that kept her sane while she was forced on bed rest by her husband. No real damage was done to Dane, but Metro feared her mind would step out on her. The mind was a powerful thing, but when undergoing several traumatic events, it could weaken and give out if not cared for. So Metro ordered Dane to rest and sink into a state of peace. However, no matter how many days she rested and listened to soothing music, Dane continued planning her next move. Metro putting her in time-out did nothing to help heal Dane. All it did was help her strategize.

  For a while, neither spoke. It was something that needed to be done before they hashed out the past.

  Without looking at Dane, Renee proceeded to say, “I’m—”

  “Don’t you dare,” Dane cut in. Her face was hard and still. “We’re even now.”

  It was hard to ignore, forgive, and accept what Dane and Metro had done, but it had to be done. After examining the situation, Renee now understood their point of view and knew it was time for things to go back to normal. They were now even. She failed to take immediate action against Carmen, and they repaid her by dethroning her. There was nothing else they could do to harm one another more than they already had. They’d played their most vicious cards.

  Renee looked at Dane. “This has to end.”

  “And it will,” Dane responded.

  The fidgeting and sweating of Renee’s hands left her palms dry and brittle. She walked to the dresser and grabbed the lotion closest to her reach. Smudging a fair amount into the center of her hand, she moisturized her hardened skin and picked up her head to see Julian standing in the terrace’s doorway. The sight of him threw her back to when she watched him on her terrace playing a game of chess the day she arrived back home from Jamaica. They made love then, a home reunion she ached for and sank her all into when finally receiving it.

  The lotion slid on her hands, her body heat melting it off. She fell into his gaze with the undeniable need for a connection roping around her heart and tugging her forward. Dane repositioning herself stole Renee’s attention. Dane’s weak appearance caused Renee to snap together the realization that if Julian was still associated with Dane, then there was a possibility he was at the shooting too. Renee snapped her neck Julian’s way, instantly looking him over for wounds.

  “I’m not hurt,” he answered. The ability Julian had to read Renee’s mind was still strong and accurate.

  “Only me and a family member of Carmen’s were hit. It ended almost as soon as it started,” Dane informed her.

  Renee’s lips balled up, her sight resting on the floor. She wanted to feel Julian’s flesh in order to guarantee that he was okay. She wanted her lips to meet his and tell him, “I’m glad you’re okay,” then connect on a physical, mental, and spiritual level. Losing her breath over the thought of reconnecting with Julian, Renee took a deep breath and made her way to the door, the intensity all too much. Yet before walking out, she told Dane what she was sure she’d be happy to hear.

  “I brought a gift for you and Metro, Dane. Tell Metro to give it to you.” Renee then left her body leaning against the door and let out her breath before making her way down the stairs.

  “What do you think she has for you?” Julian asked, his eyesight fixated on the door.

  “According to the size of the bag she brought in on the front door’s security cam, body parts. Fingers, eyes, and toes, hell, maybe even a head.”

  “They were in a blind spot where they had their conversation. Did you listen to her conversation with Metro on the intercom?”

  “Yes, and if I’m correct, whatever is in that bag belongs to Calloway, I heard them say.”

  “She brought him with her,” Julian interrupted. He didn’t really care to talk about what was in the bag. He only entertained the conversation until he no longer could. Concrete images of Renee entering the house with Jared haunted him. He wished he had never watched the security cameras.

  “He’s here for security purposes only. You of us all should know how she moves,” Dane reminded Julian. She sat herself up more, laid her head back, and prepared for a nap. “He’ll be gone just like Calloway. Once she lets you back in.”

  Chapter 18

  It didn’t seem as cold. It didn’t seem as nail-biting, toe-numbing, or circulation-stopping.

  This day just seemed . . . average. The sun melted a majority of the snow, sending it down the city’s drainage system. Carmen rubbed her arms, the only thing soothing enough to keep her mind at ease and on guard at all times. Her touch kept her on high alert, a reminder that what was taking place was real and not a dream she wished upon a star on many nights for it to be.

  Her hair missed her brush, and the dark blotches underneath her eyes mis
sed her concealer. The corners of her mouth were cracking, and dead skin threatened to fall with the mere movement of her mouth. She was breaking down, her wafer-thin fingers in great need of nutrition. In the back of her mind, she knew that being queen was a task that came with many detrimental outcomes and traumatizing experiences. Yet she thought she could avoid them all. She thought she could keep her hands clean by dirtying the hands of her pawns. She underestimated it all, thinking she was smarter and more conniving. But in Carmen’s case, she learned the hard way.

  Every now and then, Carmen looked back at the house whose steps she sat on, trying to avoid looking at her aunt’s house across the street. For two hours she sat on that step speechless as to what she would say when she entered that home, if she entered that home.

  After the shooting, Carmen became hysterical. Like a nomad, she wandered from place to place, never feeling content enough to rest her head at one spot for long. On day three of her searching for a new place to find refuge, she decided to head to New York. She’d do better among her family and would less likely be harmed because of a barrier known as her cousin.

  The house she sat in front of was nice, her choice of style. And she was grateful the owners weren’t home to shoo her off their property. The sun began to set. When the temperature decreased, Carmen stood up from her seat. Grabbing her luggage, she struggled to carry the heavy suitcases across the street to her family’s estate.

  Standing in front of the door, Carmen dropped her luggage beside her feet, conjured up the saddest expression she could muster, and waited for her cue. At first, she knocked softly, then harder when she heard nothing and no one answered. Her fist banged against the mahogany door until it opened and her fist fell inside. Having gotten an answer, Carmen kept her eyes to the ground and away from whoever stood in the doorframe. She needed to seem believable from the beginning and wanted whoever was watching her to see she was remorseful. Her breathing increased, and her eyes watered. It was a scene from a soap opera spat off a television screen. The family’s mourning had no room to feel for Carmen, but she needed them to, and she needed their sympathy. It was insurance for her survival.