- Chapter Twenty-Three -
Untruth
Left with a lot to ponder, Logan had lingered long enough to overhear the thief's call to his little brother and "the wife".
Despite being able to only make out half of the conversation from his hiding place, hearing how they spoke, talking something about a niece and what he assumed had to have been her birthday, it cut him deep. Teeth more jagged than the shark that had nearly ended everything, the decades old wound reopened and left the surfer speechless. Buried below a lie he had convinced himself to believe, this was so much deeper than when he first had been told that his real father was a no-account cad that had run out of town on a whim. Maybe if Sam had denounced ALL family it wouldn't have felt so shitty, but...
Chelsea was what he needed right then. Literally everything to him, she had always supported his dream of finding his father to get answers on what he had come from, what he could have been. Even on their wedding day, she had asked him if he wanted more time to find his roots. A legit angel on earth, the only hesitation in her words was the caution that he might not like the answer he found. If he had ever doubted them as a couple, that was the moment he knew he'd found his soul mate. Suffering this harsh dismissal, the blonde needed to feel her arms around him as she assured him that this wasn't the kind of man he'd turn out to be.
Somehow, she always knew. She knew right from the start that the cocky surfer she treated in the clinic would ask her out, just like she knew to have her things ready to pack when he asked her to move in with him. On their honeymoon she even had admitted to having a hunch from the first that they were meant to be. Her pregnancy hadn't come as a surprise, even though it had been unplanned. Every time he brought it up, she promised that he would find his father, and he had. If she could have foreseen all of that, she must have also been able to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't hurt someone the way he had been hurt.
But she hadn't expected to be tied to her forever in such a traditional fashion. Nor had she ever dreamed that they would be purely monogamous from day one, yet they had been, because they'd both hoped that the relationship would be special. Point was, even Chelsea could be blindsided, so who was to say that someday he wouldn't become like Sam?
Terrified of shunning the baby he already loved more dearly than his own life, Logan refused to do it. His dad was right about one thing - his place was being home with Chelsea, where he belonged. Logan had been gone long enough.
Although it wasn't as simple as just picking up and leaving when he knew that Dani was missing. Conscience unable to accept that he had just let the girl be in her time of need, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try to help. Like his old man, the heiress wasn't the biggest fan of the surfer either, but he had the feeling that she would at least care enough to do the same for him. It was just the vibe he got from her.
Careful to not be seen, and frankly more than a little relieved that he hadn't been caught for knocking into the shelf, he watched Sam ride off and decided to follow after.
[Sam in the city]
Ronnie lived in a rundown apartment above a deli that used to be a shoe store in the 80's. One bedroom, one bathroom, no laundry room or any other amenity to speak of, not even a regular exterminator to deal with the frequent infestations. It suited him, as did the cheap memorabilia that served as the only expensive-looking decoration in the squalor. Hardly an excuse to smell like a dirty gym sock that been left to soak in turpentine for over a year, the only other things to contrast the peeling wallpaper were the framed team jerseys that fell off the back of a truck. Big sports fan, Ronnie.
Clad in the shining gold and violet purple of the LA team today, the man was considerably thinner on top than the last time he had seen the crook. The same couldn't be said for the man's middle.
"Sam Drake, as I live n' breath!" Cackling with a bad smoker's lung when the ex-con had knocked on the front door, Ronnie had stood aside after a heavy pause of transparent scrutiny, "Still runnin' that talent scout scam? Brilliant stuff. From the looks o' ya, I can't make up me mind if ya'd need ta."
Crossing the threshold, the grizzled brunette was struck with the foreboding that the roof above could cave in at any minute.
Glad that he wasn't carrying anything of particular value, Samuel casually strolled into the room with his hands in his pockets. Phone the only thing that might be missed in the likely event of theft, he brushed the device to make sure it was still there. He was wiser than to have anything incriminating stored within, and the important numbers were all coded and backed up just in case.
"I need information." Frankly he would have preferred to leave it there if he could, however Ronnie wasn't a mind reader, so Sam knew that he had to divulge more than that. Not prepared to say anything more about the person that had been kidnapped than was absolutely necessary, the career conman pulled out the oblong device from his coat. Still frame cued and ready to go, he showed the man-rat the video Chloe had dug up. "I need to know who these two are."
Playacting as if he had been hurt that this wasn't strictly a social call, Ronnie wheezed and whined, "Whateva happened ta the good ol' days? Technology has been a Godsend ta me work, yeah, but people have become increasingly cold." Wiping something from the corner of his mouth, he succeeded only in spreading it to the wiry coal black streak over his upper lip. "Alright, don't need ta twist me arm, lemme see."
Handed the phone with the grimace of a man that had been asked to part with his kidney on short notice, he peered at the screen for a grand total of eight seconds. Crappy as the quality of the shot was, he knew who the pair were - most of the time when someone was looking for someone else, it came back around to the couple. Hell, it was even getting to the point that he could have just assumed they were to blame without any kind of evidence, and chances were that he wouldn't be wrong to point the finger.
What he didn't know was why he should just give them up. "Tell me, whattya want with 'em? I'm sure ya could find better on Tinder." Tinder was still a thing, right?
If only this was that kind of snoop job. "I dunno, they look like good dancers to me."
Angel and Ashley? Hardly the ideal date on their own, to have an interest in both could only mean that someone important had been taken for Orange Tiger business. Ronnie's real question was who did Drake hold dear enough to make this kind of fuss over? The little brother immediately came to mind, but if Nate was in danger Sam would be throwing him into the nearest surface and threatening his life for a lead. No, this had to be something else, since the other man was willing to haggle.
"Care for some whiskey? I was about ta grab me a bottle 'fore ya showed up." One way or another, Ronnie could care less if his guest wanted a drink or not. If Sam refused that only meant that he got to save that much more for later, however, if the ex-con accepted there was an increased chance that he could get away with jacking the price up. Win-win.
Able to knock 'em back with the best, one drink wouldn't kill anything. Nodding with a serious expression that bordered on contemplative, the explorer pocketed his phone. Knowing precisely what he was walking into, he followed his host to a sitting room that was half kitchen and half living space. It reminded him of an ex's place, but he couldn't quite recall which one. As if it really mattered.
One drink turned into six a little too quickly. Less your standard shot and more a store-sized sample given out of a thimble, to say that Ronnie was stingy with his hospitality would have been generous. Still, that was probably for the best - every minute that the heiress was gone might as well have been another hundred dollars deducted.
"What can you tell me?" In all actuality, the better question would have been 'what will you tell me?', but that might make it sound like he didn't trust his old "friend". Heaven forbid Ronnie get the wrong idea.
Shooting another swig straight from the bottle - backwash not his problem - the balding man mulled it over. So far they had played a light game of catch-up, and even that was only so satisfying. He wanted Sam to have to work for it, because in his mind things came too easy to the Drake brothers. Intelligent, capable, lucky, and objectively good-looking, it just wasn't right that the two had it all.
And also stalling was the usual business tactic. Living conditions more or less voluntary, Ronnie planned it so that by the time they finally reached the haggling stage the costumer might be more willing to part with a little extra, just in the name of getting the hell out of there.
"We've known each other a long time now, how many years would ya say?" Expecting an answer, he kept his beady eyes on the ex-con as the brunette spun the shot glass in his hands. Despite only having a finite number of remaining cups in the set, there was no immediate worry about Drake breaking the dish. Not yet.
Games sad as they were predictable, though his patience was running thin Sam forced himself to play along. If he acted rashly, the price for getting the information he sought would skyrocket. And that was before factoring in the identity of the heiress. Chancing nothing, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Nine, ten?"
Ronnie wondered if that was true. It seemed to be true enough, but it wasn't like he kept track of that sort of thing. What was he, a woman? He had better things to do than memorize every little anniversary and date. "Long time. In that time, ya came ta me maybe thirty times for names n' addresses. As a friend, I gave ya good intel, n' I never asked too much. As that same friend, I feel like I should warn ya now how dumb it is ta go lookin' for those two punks."
Sam was too stubborn to back down, everyone knew that, so this was clearly the rat picking for a bigger slice of cheese. Ronnie's network and client list left plenty of room to loose BOTH Drake brothers and not take so much as a dent.
Aware that they had to reach a starting baseline somehow, the adventurer knew that he had to sell a convincing story or risk Ronnie's suspicion. Depending on the kind of job it was, the usual price ranged from cash to used undergarments, but he had been known to take unspecified favors for later or even photographs. Knowing the rat, the pictures were likely divided into two folders; one labeled 'blackmail', the other was hopefully as vague as 'personal' and left no hint as to what was really inside. If the scumbag even suspected for a moment what was really at stake... Low creatures like Ronnie had ways of striking when things looked their bleakest, and they could hardly use yet another hindrance.
Praying to Christ that the weasel would settle on the lowest possible terms, the brunette came in low with the friend card, "I appreciate the gesture," Sam ceased his spinning just long enough to glance up at the other man, "I do. But this isn't something I can just walk away from."
"Oh?" For a thief of some notoriety, it was amusing (and beneficial) how often it boiled down to a pair of tits. Switch around the genitals where required, and perhaps the same could be said of all men.
Lying easy as breathing for the liberator of treasure and lost history, adding a touch of truth was the key to selling any lie. Curving the perspective to suit his needs, Sam parted with the version of events that had been stripped bare of any meat, "This one's special. Really special. She's younger-"
Uh-huh, that sounded like the Sam he knew.
"How young?" Speaking of predictability, Ronnie bounced on that like a starving man at a feast. "Young enough ta 'member this place when it was a shoe store? Or young enough ta get carded at the club?" A dirty old man that should have been on predator watch lists, his tone left no mystery as to which side of the spectrum he preferred this 'someone special' fell on.
"Young enough to be a check mark on midlife crisis bingo." That was vague enough to lure the fish in. "On the surface she's your typical rich girl with daddy issues. But she's eager." Chuckling, Sam was sure to leave another break for Ronnie to imagine what all that might have entailed.
Unfortunately what he failed to properly estimate was just how deeply it bothered the other man that he could pull in half of what he did at his age. While Nathan had chosen to settle, Samuel was free to go deep sea diving whenever he pleased, and it wasn't very often he came back empty-handed. Good thing for him that Ronnie wasn't a strong enough man to cling to jealousy when there was a prospective catch on the horizon. Before he even saw this little prize that the ex-con was nibbling on, the rat was already dreaming of what he could get out of it.
Bait taken in spite of decades of experience dealing with crooks and the desperate, Ronnie could have congratulated Sam. Assuming of course that they were to speak candidly for a change. Aware that this was a trap to take advantage of his darker nature, he demanded proof. Naturally.
"Don't be stingy, show me what's so important for ya ta risk life n' limb." And with Angel and Ashley, risking injury was the least of it - the pair were favorite torturers of the yutz in charge of this area's branch of Orange Tiger Association, Jian Ruan.
Phone a magical device with all kinds of nifty apps and programs, such as photoshop, Sam came ready for such a request. Technically the picture was one of Chloe's, taken to commemorate the near brush with death after the heiress had come to. Surfer lurking next to the savior at the end of the line-up, the original photograph was of the woman holding the survivor's shoulders in triumph. Cropping the blonde and the recognizable older female out of the frame, that left Sam and Daniella.
Camera-shy, Dells had turned her head away from the lens and into his shoulder by extension. Face bandaged heavily from getting smashed by the bottle, even with the HD capabilities of the smartphone, it was hard to distinguish a possible ID on the young woman. Who knew that her bad luck would turn out to be a good thing for a change?
As for what photoshop had done to the pic, suffice it to say that there was more skin showing than what Dells herself would have been comfortable with. Good thing she'd never have to know that somewhere in the world there was a hybrid edit of herself combined with some adult model.
"What happened ta her face?" Eyes glued to the curves of a healthy C-cup, the so-called concern in his inquiry came after a considerable stretch of silence.
Subscribed to 'Butterface Weekly', Ronnie was only caught off guard that of all the pictures Drake could show off, he'd pick one that hid 'something special's' mug. If it was his own woman he was bragging about, all the options would have been of the neck down. Maybe he was ashamed of her? Historically neither man was much for that inner beauty, 'great personality' malarkey, yet if he was willing to get thrown into the ringer, there must have been something that made her worth it.
Crap in a bucket. Sam had thought up an excuse on the way over, but he'd been counting on the silicon balloons to do all the necessary talking.
"Oh," spinning the glass between his left and right hands, thumbs pressed into the lip, he took care to not sound too dismissive, "she wasn't wearing a helmet and went for a nasty spill." That should have been more than sufficient to sell his story. "I spent the whole time by her side when she was recovering."
It wasn't.
"Lemme guess, her piss tastes like fine wine and ya can't get enough o' each other? It's just all so perfect in your little honeymoon phase, nothin' can get ya down!" In terms of details, he could care less about how the two had met, but he knew Sam, so it wasn't hard to figure out that this was all just a counter move. "I get fallin' fast n' hard for a young little meal, but there's no way you're gonna go this far for a lay. What aren't ya tellin' me, Sammy?"
What could Sam possibly say to that? He knew from the start that it was always a gamble to play this game, yet he'd been counting on Ronnie to handle it all a certain way. Apparently it was capable of learning after all, who knew? In all seriousness, he wasn't sure on what he could do to convince the other man. If he fessed up that she was a job that would lead into a lot of questions, and if he wasn't careful going down that road, Ronnie just might start putting two and two together. At this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted to risk that.
Violence was always a way to go, but if he instigated a fight here that might make future dealings that much uglier. Christ knows that Ronnie would deserve it, but there were larger things at stake - namely his paycheck. Chloe and Nadine cutting in like this was already putting a kink into the plans he had for this payout, so he wasn't in a rush to hurt his pocketbook further.
On the other side of that coin, he didn't want to see his little princess suffer more than she had to. Poor kid had it tough enough with everything that was going on without having to worry that Ronnie would start stalking her. No, the young woman hadn't done anything to deserve that, or any of this really, but at least Ronnie was something he had the power to shield her from. Sam had put someone through that circus once before, and he wasn't in a rush to do it again.
"Alright," balancing the smudged glass on his leg so that the final swig of amber became as still as the surface of a mirror, he motioned surrender. "You caught me. I don't know what kind of problem these chuckle fucks are gonna give me, true, but I'm ready for 'em. We both know that I wouldn't risk my neck for just anyone - but I would for family."
The truth was a powerful thing. Especially when it was used as a weapon.
Family? There was no Drake sister hidden in the wings, and if this were Elena or the kid, Ronnie would have been talking to the other brother right now. Or more specifically, he would have been talking to his fist. Then... "Ah. Always knew it was a matter o' time-"
Conversation cut abruptly, there was a knock on the door. The thief recalled a time not so long ago when something as simple as a fist on the wooden frame had changed his life. Watching the scumbag struggle to pull himself up from the mustard-yellow armchair he loved so much that he would rather cover it in duct tape than just toss it, Sam refilled his glass. It was a nice change not having to be the one to answer.
It was Nadine.
"Oh, this just got even better!" In the smarmy criminal underworld of thieves and liars, there wasn't a veteran alive that didn't know the history between the two. Perhaps an overstatement, it was true enough that anyone that was remotely familiar with Sam and Nadine knew that they weren't the best of friends. "What are the odds?"
Tuckered slightly from the trek to the sinkhole - most of which had been taken on foot - she stormed in without an invitation. Having no clue that Ronnie was presently entertaining and angry that the bus had been late, it was obvious that she was in no mood to be trifled with. Her first reaction was to have her fist through Ronnie's front teeth, but her partner would have discouraged it. Shame for him that Chloe wasn't there.
Nadine knew that not all of her problems could be solved with action, but Ronnie wasn't the usual sort of obstacle. Punching him in the jaw, the former mercenary didn't greet him so much as start making demands. "I need names!"
Alerted by the noise, Sam paused when he saw Nadine. Sweat ran down the back of her neck and made her shirt stick to her skin beneath the buckled jacket she had thrown on, but that wasn't even the worst of it. Truly evil, the weather had fried her curls and left her with the look of a psychotic poodle that had stuck its paw in an outlet. It was too rich a thing to not laugh at!
Clutching his side in mirth as he doubled over, he couldn't not say between gales of laughter, "What the hell happened to you?! You look ridiculous!" For once he was actually glad to see her, but he just couldn't handle her appearance. "You need to see yourself!" Seriously, she must have changed how she took care of her hair after all these years, because he didn't recall ever seeing it look this bad before.
Leering, the former mercenary dropped Ronnie to the ground and turned her attention to Sam instead. Cold fury in her gaze, the woman turned her head to the side with a nasty grimace and let the man have it. Fist going straight into his gut, she winded the thief before turning back around to deal with Ronnie.
"Names. Now." Hissing in annoyance, she actually felt a lot better from just seeing Drake having to fall back into the cracked wall for support. Shame she had shown such restraint in the past.
Filled with the fleeting hope that perhaps the mere sight of the ex-con would make her forget about him long enough to slink away in the midst of a scuffle, Ronnie paled when she fixed her viper death stare on himself. Willing to bargain for a way out of this with no further damage, he spit out part of a fake tooth. "Need a face," huffing heavier than normal, it sounded like his lungs could have collapsed at any minute, "if ya expect me ta tell ya what ya need ta know."
Impressed that she had managed to just bypass all the bullshit to get an answer with a single hit, Sam made a mental note to remember just how strong Nadine still was. In all actuality it never should have been in doubt, but this was apparently one of those things you just took for granted without a reminder here and there.
Oxygen returning with a sense of balance, the first thing he managed to choke out was, "Would it have killed you to get here earlier?"
Collecting himself in the background, Nadine produced the same picture of Angel and Ashley that Sam had. Amused by the surprise that they were working together on this one, the former mercenary showing up like this really shouldn't have came as a shock. Threat somewhat diminished now that he understood the angle, Ronnie snorted at his own risk, "What, Sammy have everyone with a pulse lookin' for baby mama too?"
"What is he talking about?" Familiar with the phrase and aware of how dire the situation was looking, it was clear that they were both on about Adler. Nadine was appalled by the implications - bedding Rafe's daughter would have been bad enough, but to actually plant the seed?! Wait a moment, she was confused by the timeline that Chloe had outlined during her explanation of the situation. Were Drake and Adler more acquainted than anyone realized? If that were true though, why would Ronnie of all people know first?
Sam didn't have the chance to answer, because Ronnie beat him to the punch. "Drake's spreadin' the seed. Knocked up some teeny bopper, n' now he's stuck dealin' with some bad cats. I say good luck gettin' her back in one piece."
"Why?" All muscle as she ripped the rat from the floor, she rammed the scumbag up into the wall. Admittedly there was less force in the motion than before, however he was feeling enough pain to remind him that she had no patience for games.
In awe of just how scary the woman could be, Sam felt goosebumps on his arms as he watched her break Ronnie with just a look. Realizing that he was fortunate to have Nadine on his side for this one, the historian was grateful that she had shown up when she had, otherwise this might have taken all damn day. He smirked when the informant cracked beneath the pressure of her arm, his soiled pants considerably wetter than they had been before he'd opened the door.
"Belongs ta Orange Tiger now, don't she?" Gasping for air when the former merc let up on his throat, the balding man rued the day he ever met Drake. "Them two in the pictures, that's Angel and Ashley. Need more o' a name, ya ain't speakin' ta the right people. If them's the ones that brought her in, it's anyone's guess if Sammy boy can even get her corpse back-"
Crowing the trinity of basic questions, Ross cut his feeble half-threats off, "Where can we find them?"
Everyone had to have some kind of base of operations, no matter what you were involved with or how much territory you could claim. For Rafe that had been the cathedral of Saint Dismas in Scotland, and though he was a bit harder to pin down, Drake had had a place for pretty much every country. Of late the exact coordinates would lead back to the hotel, but after all of this was finished, that probably wouldn't hold true anymore.
"Uptown." Angel and Ashley were a mobile service as dictated by their boss, however the brunt of what they did was carried out at the old police station. Assuming for a moment that they had a personal life outside of their jobs, it was anyone's guess what they would be doing or where they even laid their heads down at night. "Orange Tiger bought an ol' police station after it burned down in '09. They fixed it up, practically handed it ova ta the two."
Armed with all they needed to know to begin, Sam finally chimed in, "Nadine, be a dear?"
Mildly disappointed that her call to Wyatt had been rendered useless now that the connection was confirmed, she nodded and knocked Ronnie out cold. Definitely unable to hold his bowels back once he was out of commission, the trash slid down the wall in a smelly heap, limbs limp against the floor. This would have been the perfect opportunity to drop a quip about the maid coming in to clean up, however the closest the rodent nest had ever come to a cleaning lady would be the blow-up doll stashed besides the refrigerator.
About to follow after Drake, Nadine paused. It really wasn't any of her business, yet she couldn't shake the notion of her ally pursuing the Adler girl, "You never really did finish with Rafe, did you?"
Message from the Author:
I'd like to thank Guest for the review! Reviews, actually. It really means so much to me to get even a single review, and you've given me the exact kind that I hope for - constructive criticism. Writing means the world to me, it's what moves me, and I'd love to get better at it! Sadly that's extremely difficult to do (at least it is for me) without a little help. I really enjoyed reflecting in "One Lousy Writer", it felt like a descent review of my flaws and fears, but the thing is, everyone sees things differently. Example, I was concerned that Bai in particular was coming across as fairly one-dimensional, but it sounds like Guest didn't get that interpretation. To get better, every possible angle is helpful, so THANK YOU! Hopefully you'll see this, and I hope this is what you mean when you spoke about transitions and breaks. Honestly I had some debate with myself about the actual scene shifts, or if the character POV within the scene shifts were overly jarring. Every chapter is a growing experience, so to everyone, I thank you for bearing with me as I refine my craft!
Thank you, Guest, and thank you everyone that reads this!
Ok, I'll shut up now and start working on the next chapter.