Chapter 7

Stumbling from her front door into her kitchen, Vee snatched up a clean glass from the sink and twisted the tap for cold water, desperately wishing she had something stronger in her house. The dried blood on her skin smeared across the glass as her hands became wet. She didn't bother to wash it away. What was the point? She had so much blood on her hands, what was a few drops more?

She placed a shaking hand on her forehead, smearing more blood on her face and in her hair, as she drank the entire glass of water. It quenched her thirst and helped to steady her a little. Lowering the glass, she filled it once more, this time drinking with a little more grace and less of the desperation she'd been feeling since she flung herself in her Maserati at the dockyard and drove home.

She hadn't turned on any lights when she came in, preferring the shadows. It was what she did, lived in the dark. At first it had been a reaction to her circumstances, constantly hiding, knowing that enemies could see her if she surrounded herself by light. Then she got used to the dark, treating it like an old friend. So much so, she no longer needed light to forge a path in her home.

Placing her glass on the counter she reached down and unzipped first one boot, then the other, allowing them to fall to the floor. She was usually a tidy person, but she couldn't bring herself to care about where her things landed right at the moment. Not when lives had been lost. When her own life hung precariously in the balance.

She opened her hoodie and allowed it to fall from her shoulders, leaving her dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a black spaghetti strap tank and bare feet. She picked up the water and walked to the balcony. Opening the door, she stepped outside into the cool Miami breeze. She shivered but made no attempt to cover her bare arms. She welcomed the chill. Since she stopped using drugs she learned to enjoy simple things, like the sharpness of tactile sensations. Even though some were less pleasant than others she still welcomed them.

Vee took several deep, calming breaths, using the crisp ocean breeze to cleanse her lungs and clear her head. She wished she could go for a swim in the dark pounding surf. Would've except security would follow her down, watch her, wonder what she was thinking. Appearance was everything for a female mob boss, she couldn't afford to appear anything less than completely put together. She hated that she was so rattled. Her usual calm obliterated in the face of an enemy that that was superior in every way. He had more men, more guns, more skill.

She was going to lose this war.

He'd been waiting at the dockyard. Waiting for her counter-attack. They'd been surrounded, had to fight their way out. The only thing that saved them was Sotza's reluctance to let Vee die. Once she realized none of his men were aiming anywhere near her she yelled for her own crew to get behind her. It was a ballsy move. And her guys had been reluctant to hide behind her, the woman they'd sworn to protect.

"I'll fucking shoot you myself if you don't do as I say!" she screamed her frustration until they fell in around her, surrounding the boss as she demanded. The dockyard had fallen eerily silent after that, Sotza's guys refusing to engage as long as a bullet might hit her. Smoke from flares was thick in the air. Sotza's side had thrown them in a bid to confuse and scatter her crew.

"Come out where I can see you, you coward!" she shouted into the dark stillness.

She felt the tension of her guys as footsteps echoed through the yard. The heels of his shoes striking the pavement. He moved where she could see him, but not close enough for her to do the damage she so badly wanted to inflict.

Sotza's sharp eyes took her in, drinking her up with obvious possession gleaming in the dark depths. She felt stripped bare, right there in front of both sides. Then his eyes focused on her face and neck, the blood splattered in her blond hair. "You're hurt," he growled.

What the fuck was his problem? He attacks her, in her territory, in her dockyard, with the clear intention of taking out as many of her people as possible. But for some reason the idea that's she'd been hurt in the crossfire displeased him.

"Not mine, asshole," she snarled back. "One of my guys."

A hint of relief shadowed his features before he smoothed his expression. "Good," he replied, casually dismissing the death. She shouldn't be surprised. To secure his place in Venezuela more than two decades ago, he'd breathed, slept and ate death. The murder of one person, a pesky adversary, would mean nothing to him. In fact, it baffled her that he seemed to want her alive so bad.

"You're not wearing my ring." His voice was casual, but she could hear the chill. "I warned you about that."

"I'm not fucking marrying you!" Vee shouted, unable to maintain her usual calm in the face of this weird psycho. Maybe this was his plan. Annoy the hell out of her until she died of bafflement. "You can take that ring and stick it up your ass."

He frowned and shook his head. "You need to watch what you say, Vee. I like your elegance, your cool sophistication. It would be a shame for you to turn into a brat. I'd have to reteach you proper decorum after the wedding."

At that point she wanted to shoot him more than she wanted to breathe. If she didn't have the safety of her men to consider she might have done it. Though she kept her gun hand lowered, her finger twitched against the trigger.

"Concede the dockyard and I'll let you and your men go." His countenance became business-like. "Concede the city and I'll think about letting your people live permanently."

Vee didn't know if she could believe him. While he might want her, he wouldn't want men that were loyal to anyone but him. Sotza wasn't known to be merciful. He mowed down all in his path, staked his claim and enjoyed life as though he wasn't a bloody butcher. She could see movement in the shadows all around him. His men were in place, ready to pick them off if anyone made a false move. She had no choice.

"I'll give you the dockyard," she told him. "Let me and my people leave. No more death."

He chuckled. He'd known she wouldn't concede the city. He was going to have to pry Miami out of her cold, dead hands. "Done." He turned and walked away, the smoky shadows swallowing him up almost immediately.

"Let's go," Vee growled at her men.

Danny fell into step beside her as they made their way back to the vehicles. "You need to stop giving a shit about us, Vee. You won't win any ground trying to protect your people. There has to be sacrifice in war."

"Back off, Danny." She wasn't in the mood for a lecture. Even if he was right. She'd known the truth of his words even as she called her men off, forcing them behind her. She couldn't be their friend, mother, sister, whatever and win this. But the thought of losing any of them was wrenching. She knew most of them personally, knew their families.

As she stood on her balcony, she acknowledged that she'd never felt so alone. What was she protecting her city, her people, from? And why? If she was smart she would run, far and fast. She had the resources to make her way out of the US, to go hide out somewhere in Europe. Switzerland maybe. She could disappear into the mountains, learn to ski.

But Vee had spent most of her life running, hiding from a terrible marriage through the welcoming arms of cocaine. Now that she'd cleaned up and cleared out her house, she wasn't about to give up all of her hard work. She was done running.

She sighed and rubbed her temple, nose wrinkling when she felt blood flaking from her skin. Time for a shower. And after she would have a cup of herbal tea, something calming, and sit for awhile. Remember to breathe, to just be without the weight of a city on her shoulders.