The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon) (6 page)

Dressed in a hospital gown and lying on the bed, waiting for her doctor, Jezebel was transported back in time.

She’d been ten and Delilah had fallen down the stairs, a result of Ilyana’s spilling juice on the staircase and being too high to wipe it up. In the hospital room with her sister as the doctors set and wrapped her arm, Jezebel had told her to be brave. To an eight year old, that meant nothing, and Delilah had whimpered and cried softly despite the anesthetic. Feeling helpless, Jezebel had made up a story about a princess who fell out of a window and broke her arm. At that time, they’d both been into Disney princesses, Delilah a bit more since she’d kept her innocence longer. As she told her the story of the brown-skinned princess who cried briefly before setting her own arm, her sister had calmed and relaxed. When she’d told her to be brave after that, Delilah had bobbed her little head and given her a tremulous smile.

Turning her head to the side, Jezebel felt a tear leak across the bridge of her nose and move along her cheek. She wished someone was here to tell her to be brave, though bravery in this instance could have one of two meanings.

“Ms. Jamison?”

When she didn’t answer, the doctor, Dr. Emilia Hassad, came to stand directly above her. The middle-aged woman gave her a comforting smile.

“Ms. Jamison, if you’re having second thoughts about this...”

Jezebel shook her head and sniffled. “No. I’m fine.” She’d forgotten she was Ursula Jamison, because she was unaccustomed to using the name. Along with Delilah, who refused to let her go into the program alone, she’d arrived in Maryland almost two weeks ago. Her mother had refused to leave her home, and there had been no persuading her, so Jezebel and Delilah left her.

Dr. Hassad nodded. “I’ll give you a few moments to get yourself together and then I’ll return.” She moved away before returning with a box of tissues. “Would you like me to get your husband?”

Her “husband” Matthew Jamison, was none other than Agent Brandon Erickson, who’d been assigned to her protection detail. There were others, three U.S. Marshalls, who were “cousins” visiting them. Brandon had escorted her to the clinic today. Delilah was scheduled to come but at the last minute, her sister hugged her and told her it was probably best that she stayed home. Delilah didn’t approve and Jezebel understood.

“No, that’s fine, thank you.”

The doctor nodded. “You know, there are options other than abortion...”

As she listed them, Jezebel went into her mind again. It had come to this. What kind of life could she offer a child while her own life was in danger? She was in a federal witness protection program for crying out loud!

After her last visit with Ramsey, Jezebel decided she had little choice. She didn’t want to give up her current life for the unknown, but the more she thought of it, the more she realized that she had only one true option, and that was the protection being offered by the U.S. government. While she still believed they had ulterior motives, maybe they hoped she’d testify against Ramsey or had knowledge about Ramsey’s criminal activities, they’d not only given her credible information, but were offering to protect her and her family from a very real threat.

She’d lost her identity. Jezebel Grace Carter no longer existed. Even her business was no longer her own. All of her IDs had another name, another woman, a woman who feared for her life because she’d trusted and loved the wrong man, a dangerous man, a man whose enemies weren’t above killing innocent children.

Jezebel thought Kirk had damaged her, but he’d done little in comparison to Ramsey. She was a strong woman, had always been, but Ramsey Stone broke her. Even lying here, about to remove a child who’d done nothing but exist, Jezebel felt herself shattering further.

When she focused again, the doctor was gone. Pushing onto her elbows, she reached for the paper cup with water just a hand reach away. Taking small sips, she put it back and lie back, resolved.

This was no place for a baby. When the U.S. Marshalls had briefed her on the program, they’d told her that it involved a lot of travelling. The point of Witness Protection was to keep ahead of the danger, which meant, she’d never stay in one place for more than a few months, sometimes weeks. Right now, when she was just over three months pregnant, and had no symptoms of it except for the morning sickness, that was all dandy. But when she started showing, when she grew large enough that they were unable to move her, she’d be putting her baby at risk. And when the child was born…what then? Live the rest of her life in Witness Protection for fear that someone would discover she’d had a child by Kang Jae Ramsey Stone, the head of Double Dragon
,
and come after them?

She didn’t think so.

Jezebel heard the door open and turned to look at Dr. Hassad.

Before the doctor could say anything else, she sighed, nodded and closed her eyes. “I’m ready, Dr. Hassad.”

***

“You can’t do this! I’m under the protection of—”

The words started out forceful, but ended on a pained cough when Vince rammed his fist into the bound man’s belly. As he removed his hand, four indentations were visible on the man’s pale skin. Soon, they began to bleed, a result of Vince’s sharp-tipped brass knuckles.

From where he sat, a few feet away from the man, Ramsey smiled and shook his head. “Wrong answer.”

They were in the meatpacking factory. Again. He’d lost count on how many times he’d been here in the past months, but Ramsey didn’t care. He was on a mission.

“I’m going to ask you again, Lee, and this time, Vince isn’t going to be as…nice.”

Lee Ji-Wook was either the third or fourth Lee that Ramsey had brought to the factory. His “interview” with Lee Woon-Ha had gone well, and while he’d claimed no knowledge, he’d given a name. That name had given a name and now, here he was with Lee Ji-Wook, a man who put too much emphasis on his appearance. When he’d first been brought to the factory, his hair had been blonde, professionally colored, straightened and possibly gelled or sprayed or whatever it was people did to get it to lie a certain way. An hour alone with Vince had ruined that, and now, it fell limply around his face, a result of being held under water.

“I told you! I don’t know anything about that…
anything
!”

Ramsey nodded. “Someone murdered my niece. Someone obviously wanted to make me angry, and it looks like that someone is you.”

He shook his head frantically. “No. Not me.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know!” He looked at Vince warily, who stood before him, adjusting his brass knuckles and waiting on Ramsey’s orders. He was dressed the part, shirtless, his dragon tattoo rising up from between his shoulder blades. “I swear…look...nobody in my group put a hit on a little girl. I’d know.”

Lifting his brow, Ramsey asked, “And how would you know?”

He seemed to contemplate answering, and Ramsey was just about to give Vince the order when he rushed out, reverting to broken Korean, “It has to go through me. Stuff like that goes through me.”

“Is that so?”

Lee nodded.

“All of them?”

He nodded again.

“And what about the ones that don’t go through you?”

When he remained mute for longer than Ramsey wanted, Vince hit him again. A whimper tore from his lips.

“Okay…okay…” He pulled his head up. “If I tell you, you’ll release me?”

Ramsey nodded. “If you’re honest.”

Lee licked at his cracked, bloodied lips, before sighing and nodding once. He swallowed loudly and released a deep breath. “Kim…Hyun-Bin.”

“Yes?” Ramsey prodded.

“The ones that don’t go through me…they go through Kim.”

“Your boss?” Kim Hyun-Bin was a key player in the H.S.S. Mob. Some said he was Chang’s right hand and it wasn’t quite a stretch since they were joined through marriage. Kim had married one of Chang’s daughters if Ramsey remembered correctly.

Lee nodded.

“That would mean whoever ordered the hit has friends in high places.” More and more, he was convinced that Chang Chul-Moo had played a part in his niece’s death. Chang hadn’t wanted their recent deal, and this could easily be his way of retaliating.

“Where’s Kim right now?”

The man shrugged and shook his head. “He could be anywhere…”

“I need you to be more specific than that, Lee.”

With a nod, he began, “He was here a few weeks ago but he doesn’t stay longer than a month.”

“When was he here?”

“Mid-August…the 15
^th
.” 

It was the first week in September. If he hadn’t already left, they had a week to find him. If they didn’t, Ramsey would have to go to South Korea. For specific reasons, he wouldn’t do that just yet.

Relaxing against the fold-up chair, he asked, “And where does Kim stay when he’s in New York?” Lee was already shaking his head when Ramsey added, “And don’t tell me you don’t know, Lee. People talk about you.”

Lee’s eyes widened before narrowing in anger.

“You know what they say, don’t you?” The man’s jaw clenched and he shook his head. “You don’t know they say the only reason Kim comes here at all is because he prefers men?”

“Rumors,” Lee muttered dismissively.

“Is it also a rumor that you’re his lover?”

“I’m married.”

Vince chuckled.

Ramsey smiled. “And?”

“They’re lies.”

“Well,” Ramsey began, standing for the first time since he’d taken a seat almost half an hour ago, and approached Lee. “Maybe you two are just
close
friends. Close friends know things about each other, don’t they? Like where they stay when they come to New York, where they eat, where they drink…” He trailed off and gripped the man’s face. “…where they fuck.” In Lee’s eyes, Ramsey saw anger and fear. He knew the fear was that he’d be exposed. “Your group doesn’t know how
close
you are, do they? They’d probably lose respect for a man so
close
to another.” He released his face and smiled. “Is that how you were promoted above your brothers, your cousins? Your close relationship with Kim?”

“What do you want?” Lee snarled.

“I want to know where I can find Kim, preferably before he leaves the country.” Ramsey smiled again. “He’s still here, isn’t he?”

Lee stared at him for long moments.

“I think we should just kill him,” Vince muttered in a bored voice. “He’s not going to talk, and I’m hungry.”

“Yes,” Lee murmured, looking down.

“Yes?”

“He’s still here, I think.”

“When did you last see him?”

“Two days ago.”

“Where?”

“The Wales Hotel.”

Ramsey lifted a brow. Vince snorted. Lee chose not to elaborate.

He turned to Vince. “Cut him down. Give him something to drink.”

Lee’s sigh filled the room. He returned his attention to the man. “You’re going to create a list with all of your
boyfriend’s
favorite places, and if we find him, you’re free to walk.”

***

“Put that back! Nobody wants the generic peanut butter! Jif and Skippy are still in business for a reason, you know.”

“When you’re paying, you can decide which peanut butter to get—”

“Excuse yourself, but my tax dollars pay you so technically I am paying for this
Skippy
peanut butter…”

Standing just a few paces behind in her Yankees baseball cap and bubble jacket, Jezebel shook her head at the antics that had become both normal and entertaining, before returning her attention to the large jar of dill pickles she currently held. She’d spied them the moment they entered the grocery store aisle. Although she’d had Brandon purchase a jar just days ago, she’d finished it, along with the peanut butter. Hence, Brandon and Delilah were having it out over which brand would replace the set currently digesting in Jezebel’s stomach.

If someone had asked her months ago what she’d be doing for Halloween, Jezebel would have probably laughed and asked them to ask her a serious question. Halloween was for children. Still, she’d never imagined she’d be spending Halloween doing midnight shopping in a grocery store under “Witness Protection.” After staying weeks in Maryland, she’d been relocated to Georgia, and weeks later, was now in upstate New York. She’d changed names as well, and was now Samira Michelson, housewife and expectant mother.

After she’d told Dr. Hassad she was ready, Jezebel had steeled herself for the inevitable, but when the anesthesiologist walked in, and began prepping her to go under, she’d stopped them. She couldn’t. Even with every reason as to why she should swirling in her mind, Jezebel just…couldn’t. Yes, her life was unstable, and less than ideal, but women gave birth to healthy, happy babies in worse conditions daily. The child had done nothing wrong, and though she wasn’t the most maternal, Jezebel realized she wanted him. It had nothing to do with Ramsey, and everything to do with her. This was her baby, an innocent child created unexpectedly, and while she considered herself Pro-Choice and a die-hard feminist, she couldn’t go through with it.