The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon) (2 page)

He could have let others deal with this situation too, but it was too personal.

Days ago, he’d sat in a hospital room with his broken and bandaged niece, who’d been on a ventilator after Austin Leeds ran her over. The impact had severed her spine, so even if she’d survived, she would have been unable to use her lower body and some of her upper body. In addition to that, she’d had a concussion and brain swelling, so it was likely she’d be unable to process things as she had previously. Despite her extensive injuries, Ramsey had been hopeful. He’d thought ahead and decided, perhaps selfishly, that her being wheelchair bound wasn’t necessarily such a bad thing. He’d get her a nurse, and extensive therapy, whatever she needed, and he was certain that with the constant support—even Bastian had suddenly become attentive—Lily would have a great life.

And then she coded.

He was there when it happened, had just dozed off in an armchair that had become his “bed” in the past nights. Ramsey had awoken to a swarm of doctors and nurses over his niece, frantically trying and failing to revive her. He’d been ushered from the room, but in that moment, staring at his niece’s pale, but scratched up face, Ramsey accepted that she was gone, had been gone since the car stole her life. They just had to let her go.

Lily’s death changed him.

The attack started the change, but her death cemented it. He’d wanted to be something that he wasn’t. He’d wanted a normal life, a legitimate life, the life of a business owner, a masseuse, a lover, a husband, perhaps even a father, but that wasn’t the life cut out of for him. Although he hadn’t known it until he was older, from the moment of his birth, his fate had been sealed. His father’s death had just sped the process along, allowing his grandfather to groom him from a young age to take the position at the head of his family. He was, and from the day his grandfather died, had always been, The Dragon.

“Should I pick up Griffin?”

Lost in his thoughts, Ramsey didn’t realize he was no longer alone until the voice interrupted. Looking to his left, he noticed that Vince had stepped into the restroom and was staring at him. His cousin was dressed similarly, in dress pants and shoes, and a plain white T-shirt. He’d obviously removed the rest of the ensemble after Lily’s funeral.

“No.” He squirted anti-bacterial hand wash onto his hands and rubbed them together before allowing the water to rinse it again. He repeated it until the water was once more clear. “Have someone else bring him here.”

“Here” was a meatpacking plant in Chinatown. It was another of his legitimate businesses, but the basement had always been used for dual purposes. For the most part, it was soundproof, with separate tiled rooms and drains that ran directly into sewers. It was the perfect place to torture someone, but until this week, Ramsey had never had a soul brought here.

“You okay?”

Ramsey looked at his cousin and nodded once.

“Look,” Vince began in a low monotone. “You don’t have to do this, Ram. Let me handle it. This is what I do best—”

“I have to do this, Vince.” He turned off the tap and grabbed a few hand towels from the dispenser. Drying his hands, he tossed them into the bin, and turned to his cousin. “They think I’m weak because I do things differently from the old man. They think I won’t get my hands bloody. They’re testing me.”

“I still think—”

“I know what I’m doing, Vince.” He stared at his cousin until he dipped his head in both acknowledgement and respect. “Did you double check the situation with the rat?”

Vince nodded. “Yes, it’s definitely him. The IP addresses match up and one of the boys saw him talking to an FBI agent.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to grab him?”

Shaking his head, Ramsey walked past Vince. “No. I’ll pay him a visit tonight.”

“Ram…?”

Pausing at the door, he turned to his cousin. Vince wasn’t a man of many emotions, but right now, he almost looked concerned, “What should I do about her?”

There was no need to mention her name, because Ramsey knew to whom his cousin referred. Jezebel Carter. The woman who’d shown up to Lily’s funeral with a bouquet of lilies and had asked to speak to him.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she’d murmured to Sarah and Bastian as they stood beside the small white coffin with colorful flowers etched into it. The coffin had been hand-designed and looked more like a child’s toy than her final resting place. “She was a beautiful girl.” They’d answered in kind, automatically thanking her as they did every other attendee who’d come to say farewell to their little angel. Instead of moving off as most of the others did, Jezebel had moved over to him. Standing a few steps from Bastian, and with her heart in her large brown eyes, she’d  murmured, “I’m so sorry, Ramsey. I know how close you were and how much you loved each other.”

“Thank you.” His response had been cool and had more than surprised her.

Instead of moving away as he’d wanted, she’d instead said, “I tried calling you…but your number’s out of service.”

At his stiff nod, she’d seemed confused, but had been persistent. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He’d waved Vince over, and his cousin had come instantly. “Vince, give her your number. Ms. Carter has some business she wants to discuss with me.”

If he thought he’d seen hurt in her eyes at his aloofness, he’d been wrong. Before his eyes, Jezebel deflated. She lowered her eyes and nodded as if accepting something. As Vince rattled off his phone number, Jezebel tried to keep a smile on her face. When he finished, she thanked him and walked away. Ramsey noticed she never wrote the number down, and was certain she had no intention of calling. Even as the ice-block in his chest melted slightly, he ignored it. This was for the best. Jezebel wanted and deserved a man he could never be. His being with her had been wishful thinking, a dream that would never be realized. Before he got her injured, or worse yet, killed, he’d let her go.

 “Ram?”

Once more, Vince’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “What?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What about her?”

“Should I call her?”

“She didn’t give you her number.”

Vince frowned. “Sam and Will are still watching her. Should I pull them?”

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when to pull them.” Turning to his cousin, he scowled. “Anything else?”

His cousin seemed to contemplate his answer. “Not at this particular moment.”

Ramsey nodded once. “Good.”

***

Jezebel didn’t know how to feel so she held on to the strongest emotion plaguing her. Grief. Curling up on her bed, she buried her face in her pillows and cried.

Poor Lily.

When she’d heard of the tragedy at
Cirque du Soleil
, that a little girl had been run over in the parking lot, she’d been sorry for the girl and her family and hoped they caught the heartless monster who peeled off instead of stopping. Days later, when she’d found out that the little girl was none other than Lily Stone, and she was dead, Jezebel hadn’t been able to stop her tears. She’d instantly reached for her phone and called Ramsey, putting aside all of their issues, but the line had been disconnected. She’d tried calling his work phone, and had left numerous messages without receiving a call back. She’d dismissed it as him being busy—his niece was dead for Christ’s sake—the man was likely depressed and sad, and didn’t have time to check messages. So she’d called his secretary and asked for the date and time of Lily’s funeral. Erika had given it to her.

Despite her qualms about showing up uninvited, Jezebel had put on a black dress and shoes and gone to pay her respects to the sweet child. She’d received a few looks, but had dismissed them as curiosity. In a church filled mainly with Koreans, she obviously stood out. The service had been beautiful. Ramsey had given the eulogy, and although he hadn’t cried during it, Jezebel was certain there hadn’t been a dry eye as he spoke. He talked about the first time he’d held her, and how from that day she’d had him under her little finger. He talked about her excellence in everything she did, how she managed to make everyone smile and her mischievous side. He talked, reminisced on their time together, and everyone could see just how much he loved his niece.

When the service was over and the attendees were going up to view the body and give condolences to the family, she moved with them as well. She remembered Bastian, but he seemed too dazed to remember her. Sarah was an older version of Lily, and Jezebel couldn’t help the sadness she felt as she thought just what a beauty Lily would have grown into.

Ramsey had shocked her. She’d expected a sad man, a depressed man, even an angry man, but the cold stranger she’d spoken to was not the man she knew. He’d looked through her. Ramsey hadn’t been dazed like Bastian, but his eyes had been granite, and he hadn’t even seen her. It was then that she realized Ramsey wasn’t just sad and busy; he was ignoring her. And when he’d told Vince to give her his number, she’d realized that Ramsey no longer cared about her. Something had changed. In the weeks they’d been apart, something had definitely shifted. Even if he was hurt about Lily, he’d never treat her like a stranger.

So she’d thanked him and walked off. She’d wanted to talk to him about the pregnancy, not then, but she’d been ready to set up a time to talk to him. Jezebel hadn’t been certain she wanted to keep the baby, and she hadn’t been certain if she wanted to tell Ramsey about the baby, but hearing that he’d lost his niece had made her determined to give him something to look forward to. She’d been acting on pure emotion, and looking back, she was glad he’d treated her so poorly. She wasn’t even sure she was ready to be a mother.

A knock sounded on her door.

“Yes?”

Her door opened and she poked her head from underneath the pillows to find Delilah staring down at her. “Someone’s here to see you.”

From the way Delilah growled it, Jezebel instantly sat up, thinking it was Ramsey. “He’s here?”

“Agent Daniels. You know, Raquel, that lying—”

“What’s she’s doing here?”

“That’s what I asked her. Says she won’t talk to anyone but you.” Delilah gave her a once over. “I can always tell her to shove it, and where.”

“Is she alone?”

“Looks like it. She didn’t bring her fake husband this time.”

“Tell her I’ll be down in a few.”

“You don’t look so good, Jez. I think you should tell her to come back tomorrow or never.”

“No, I’m fine.” She needed to blow her nose. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Delilah muttered, and left her to her own devices. 

Pushing from the bed, Jezebel made her way into the bathroom, where she blew her nose and washed her face. It took off all of her makeup, leaving her looking puffy and red, but she didn’t care. Who was she impressing anyway? Raquel Daniels? She didn’t think so.

Making her way down the stairs and into the living room, she was greeted by Delilah, who was sipping happily on a glass of lemonade, and Raquel, who was sitting in the stifling heat without. Jezebel would have laughed but she was too drained to do anything else but plop herself down and wait for Raquel to speak.

“Can we talk in private?” Raquel asked, looking pointedly at Delilah.

“No, you can’t,” Delilah muttered. “Do you have a warrant? A legit one this time?”

Raquel smiled easily. “I’m not arresting anyone. I’m just here…as a friend.”

Delilah coughed on her lemonade. “Wasn’t that what you were supposed to be the last time, her close friend?”

“Lilah, can you get me some lemonade?”

Her sister smirked, before she nodded once. “Sure, sis. It is hot in here, isn’t it?”

When Delilah pushed from the couch and made her way to the kitchen, Raquel began speaking. “Jezebel, I’m truly sorry for the way things went down, but believe me when I say, it wasn’t to hurt you. I was just doing my job, and I do think of you as a friend. That’s actually why I’m here.”

Jezebel lifted a brow.

“My intelligence has led me to believe that you’re in danger.”

“Me?” Jezebel blinked in confusion.

Raquel nodded once. “Yes. As I said before, Ramsey Stone isn’t who you thought he was. He’s the head of a very powerful mafia family with very dangerous enemies.” She paused. “I saw you at Lily’s funeral today.”

“You were there?”

“I was outside,” she murmured.

Spying, Jezebel figured. “Did you expect a mafia war to break out a funeral?”

Raquel smirked and lifted a brow. “You’d be surprised where they break out, but that’s not why I’m here.” She grew serious. “Lily’s death was no accident. It wasn’t a drunk driver. He was a contract killer hired to murder a child.”

Jezebel blinked, and blinked again. What was she talking about? “What? No, it was a drunk driver—”

She shook her head. “No, Lily was murdered because of her affiliation with Ramsey Stone. Everyone, especially his enemies, knew that she was the closest person to him and so they attacked her.”

Jezebel stood and shook her head. “Why should I believe you? You’ve done nothing but lie to me since you met me…”

“That was a job, Jezebel.”

“How do I know you’re not doing your job now?”

“Do you really want to chance it?” Raquel stood as well. “A little girl is dead. Why? Because she was born into the wrong family, and too close to her uncle. She’s dead, Jezebel. She never had a chance. And you, you dated him for months. He’s never been with anyone as long as you, and then you come along, and he’s spending time at your place, and attending your block parties, meeting the neighbors, and taking you out for picnics in the park with his niece. You practically domesticated him. Why do you think the agency moved us next to you? It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’re very important to him.”

“Just get to the point, Raquel. What do you want?”

“I don’t want you to end up like Lily.” Despite the heat, Jezebel was suddenly cold. “I don’t want to fish you out of the Hudson because of him. I want you safe.”

“And what’s in it for you?”