Page 14 of Ghostface Killer
“You know I love chips with everything.”
I grab a handful. “I do.”
“Salt is my vice.”
“Mmmmmm,” I agree. “And tequila and weed and men.”
“It’s why you love me. My vices are fun.”
“You’ll get no arguments from me on that front.” I grudgingly throw the covers off me. I planned to stay holed up in bed all day. So much for that plan. “I gotta go.” I slide off the mattress and look for my pants.
“They’re in the living room,” Claudia informs me.
“Did we have another panty party last night?”
“What do you think?” She points out the fact we are both dressed in our tops and underwear. “You performed ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ six times while standing on the couch.”
Oh, shit. I actually blush.
“They say in heaven love comes first.” I make fun of myself, and Claudia throws a chip at me.
“You’re an idiot.”
“And that’s why you love me.”
“That, and you can beat up all my ex-boyfriends.”Crunch.
“I’m good for something,” I mutter to myself as I walk out of her bedroom. I grab my jeans off the floor and head for the front door. We really did have a panty party last night; her apartment is a mess. Pink throw pillows everywhere, blankets on the floor, an empty bottle of Patrón on the table, and two dirty shot glasses sitting right next to them. I would help clean up, but I gotta jet. I’m in no mood to hear Regina if I’m late. “I’ll call you later!”
I then skip five yards down the hall to my apartment. I don’t ever lock the door, so I just walk right in. I rarely ever carry a purse or ID or keys. It’s simpler that way. No trail to follow. If someone is going to come after me, I’ll gladly invite them in right before I kill them.
I strip off my hoodie and lose the bra and panties. I take a long, hot shower to relax my muscles and mentally prepare for a conversation with Regina. Just being in her presence can be physically taxing.
Quickly, I dress in black skinny jeans, black riding boots, and a black and white striped pullover sweater. I keep my makeup light and fresh, but as I look in the mirror, I think about what Claudia said.Red is your bitch.Beneath this sugary-sweet façade is a woman who likes rough sex, hooker red lipstick, and bloodshed.
I fluff my wavy platinum hair just as there is a knock on the front door. My ride is here.
I open the door to a familiar face. “Kruger? She sent you? She must be entertaining.”
The walking Alp doesn’t delight me with a response. He just looks down at me with an impassive expression. But that’s Kruger. I don’t take it personally. He has that sunny disposition with everyone.
Kruger is Regina’s right-hand man and rarely leaves her side, unless she’s “entertaining.”
He starts for the elevator without uttering a word. I follow along. It’s pointless to try and start a conversation. He barely talks, but he is one hell of a dresser. I’ve never seen him in anything other than impeccably pressed designer suit’s. He has that whole Dwayne Johnson vibe going on with the bald head, huge muscles, dark sunglasses, and menacing presence. Most people shit when they see him.
Kruger isn’t even his real name, I just call him that because of the nasty burn on his neck. It has always reminded me of Freddy Krueger’s face.
I don’t think he appreciates the nickname, but I can’t be sure.
The ride from Jersey to Staten Island is a boring one. Even though I basically grew up here, I’m not particularly fond of the island. I don’t know why. It’s never really felt like home. And with Benny gone, it feels even less so.
A little over an hour later, we pull up to a pair of massive steel gates. I grew up in a fortress. A modern, red brick castle that Benny would have built a moat around if zoning permits would have allowed it.
I haven’t been back in months, and the same butterflies I felt the first time Benny brought me here resurrect. After that awful night. The night that truly stole my innocence.
The man who offered me a new life was so much more than just a man. He was a prince. A prince of one of the most corrupt crime families on the east coast. But the Velonas would be insulted if you called them out on what they truly are. In their eyes, they’re a corporation. An enterprise. A conglomerate of entrepreneurs. And on the surface, they conduct themselves as such. To the world, the family is a respected professional powerhouse. But underneath the beautiful, sparkly exterior is an ugly underbelly of corruption. Comprised of an army of assassins dressed in designer suit’s. Or in my case, dresses. They deal in such things as extortion, money laundering, and racketeering. You name it and the Velona family has a finger in it. Actually, an entire arm. And for years their setup worked like a well-oiled machine. Until the unthinkable happened.
Funny thing about family, you’d think they’d be the last ones to stab you in the back, but when one turns on you, it’s like twice the betrayal. Intrinsic trust and unconditional love is shattered all at the same time. A foundation that has been there your entire life, cracking under your feet like an earthquake. Disrupting everything you’ve ever known.
