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to her, relaxing his hands and his anger, carefully gathering her in his arms, holding her like a fragile object against his chest. He felt her stiffen as he gathered her in close, but she finally started to relax in his arms.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 6
    Brian
     
     
    “What, exactly, do you mean ‘She’s not there’?” Brian Peterson asked the man sitting across the table from him. “How can she be ‘not there’? You were supposed to be keeping eyes on that bitch while I’m in here. I want to know where she is when I walk out. She has already cost both me and Caesar too much time and inconveniences in our business dealings, not to mention my time in here.” The expression on his handsome face never changed, never raising an alert to the guards in the comers of the room, nor the ones monitoring the room on the close circuit cameras, not unless you looked in his eyes, and Manuel Acosta was looking into eyes that had gone as flat and deadly as a sharks.
    To anyone looking on, it appeared to be a conversation between friends, but the two men knew better. Brian had changed little during his time in jail, a tall man with a strong build, he held his own during his first days in there, days when everyone was trying to prove their standing as the biggest and baddest. He knew how to fight, and fight dirty, but he also knew that he held a power in there because of his wealth, and he wielded that power like a king to uphold his status behind the jails walls.
    Manuel Acosta was a little man, an underling working for Brian as his go between, a middle-man between himself and men who Brian needed to keep in contact with. Brian knew about men that were far more dangerous, more deadly, than Manuel, but Manuel had his uses. He could get around virtually unnoticed because he was average in every way. Average height, average build, nondescript brown hair, plain brown eyes. Yes, Manuel was a very useful tool for him to have at his disposal.
    Swallowing audibly, Manuel maintained his eye contact and said, “We were. It was a mistake, a miscommunication between men. She took off before the storm came in yesterday, stupid puta . We have the tracker on the car and another in her phone, and we were following it until the roads got bad. The men figured she would stop and wait out the storm and we could grab her if we needed to, but the roads got too bad real fast, and they had to stop. She kept going and finally stopped up ahead of us. We know where her car is, and we’ll get her as soon as we can.”
    “You’d better. She has no clue what she has done. I do not want her getting away before I even the score.”
    “We could call the cops and give an anonymous tip…“ Manuel started before Brian cut him off.
    “Are you fucking stupid? If you do that, we could lose everything! No, we need to keep lying low right now. We have been undetectable by the feds so far, and you want to hand ourselves over to the cops? What the fuck would Caesar say to you, or better yet, do to you? I bet your family would really love your severed head as a Christmas present from El Cuchillo Grande . I don’t think The Big Knife would take it easy on you, or them, at all.”
    Brian’s hazel eyes flashed with his fury, his normally tanned face with strong cheekbones and jaw turned red with restrained violence, the cords in his neck visible with the rage he was trying desperately to conceal. Leaning forward over the table, “I have less than a week left in here and I want the bitch that was my wife to know what real fear is before she pays, do you understand?” He leaned back in his chair and smiled as a guard approached. Relaxing his voice for the guard’s benefit he continued, “I appreciate you coming in and I hope you keep me informed? Let me know when you have everything ready.”
    After Manuel left, Brian was being escorted to his cell by a guard, another one in the stream of guards he held in his palm, a palm lined with money that made it easy for him