I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

51 (NEW)

JAMES

At 7:15 am, I wake-day two. Holy shit, I feel I've been here for a week. Fuck. I need sanity...I'm going stir crazy in this room. I need a phone. Unfortunately, when you're on mental hold, the hospital denies you a phone. A call. Something I didn't know. If I knew this, I would've never planned out the suicide act, but it beats the scenario that would've played out: detectives getting involved.

Fuck. I stare outside the window at a blanketed sky. The sun isn't visible, more snow...more fucking snow, so depressing. I bet Anna is loving it, though.

A few knocks tap on the room's door. A male doctor with freckles and gray hair eases in. "Oh, did I wake you?"

"No." I sit up, my hand still cuffed to the bed.

"You have a visitor...um; he says his name is Luther Vandross." The Doctor snorts amusingly. "Like the singer."

"Ugh." I shake my head, fed up.

"Are you up for company, or will you like to rest?"

I ponder.

Luther is annoying, I could send him away...but he's most likely here with news. "Yes, I could use a friendly face." The doctor grins encouragingly, then steps out of the room.

What if the units aren't on quota? Or if the Dons made a move? A lot can happen in two days. What if Luther is a mole. Why wouldn't Sydney come instead? This could be another setup. Fuck I don't have a gun...and I'm handcuffed.

The door opens, causing me to tense up. I need to watch him closely. Don Siciliano did say: "we'll see you soon," while handing over that yellow rose...which symbolizes "get well"...but that could have been a contradiction.

I eye Luther as he enters, a bald fuck with a clown beard. "Hey, boss." He shuts the door behind him, then scans the room. Hmm...yes, I need to watch him very closely. "Syd sent me to pass on information and to do a sweep since you're here all by your lonesome." Luther flops down in a sofa chair and crosses his leg.

His mannerism isn't off...he's comfortable and stupid. Normal. "Luther Vandross?" I ridicule.

He smiles. "It's funny."

"It's unprofessional."

"Well, the doc laughed, so..."

I glower, breathing longingly. "Right now, joking around isn't appropriate; you came here on a demand, not for your leisure, so behave! Give the damn report."

Luther becomes obedience, losing his stupid grin and uncrossing his leg. "Shipments may not be out on time to the mafia."

"May not?" I squint, setting my jaw. What the fuck?!

"There were quality issues with nineteen of the stations, but Sydney is on it. He's channeling your dominance. The workers were given fifteen minutes to attend to this issue. A ceiling leakage contaminated the work stations."

"We need to relocate," I stress. "How many units were packed and loaded?"

Luther puffs up his cheeks while recalling, occasionally letting out hissing sounds of air as he does so. I give him a few seconds, fighting the urge to yell. "Two point four million.... that was an hour ago so no telling what the amount is now."

"Shit!" I lean my head back on a fluffy pillow. "That's low...the shop will be working until midnight, cutting it close to the deadline."

"Sydney has it..." Luther reassures me.

"Does he now? A FUCKING SECURITY GUARD?!!" My tone shoots venom. "ONE SLIP UP...ONE MISSING UNIT...NO NOT EVEN A UNIT...ONE MISSING PINCH WILL LEAD TO RETALIATION. YOU DON'T KNOW THE DONS, YOU JUST HEAR SHIT AND GET SCARED. THESE MEN ARE LOOKING FOR BLOOD! No matter how small the mistake." I flashback to the bloody handkerchief...to my body's essence getting tucked into a top pocket. "I'm disposable...you guys are too, my hit crew, we all are. No one is safe but the cooks." I close my eyes and hear buzzing take over my ears, a tingle of numbness works my forehead.

A ding comes from Luther's direction; my eyes rush to the location of the sound. My ears missing the sound of the outside world. "It's Ryan." He reports.

My head pops up from the pillow; the buzzing in my ears grows in volume. "Is he okay?!" I don't filter out the hecticness in my voice.

"Yeah, he's okay." Luther gets up and walks to me, showing his phone's screen.

A text:

Ryan: The hackers folded 😈

Below the text, a picture off of a computer screen shows an address in Jackson, Tennessee.

Luther raises his hand for a high five that I don't accept. "Ahh, come on, this is good news!"

I feel my ears relax; my neck relax. I lay back on the pillow and stare blankly at the ceiling. "The only way I'll celebrate is when they're dead. Report back to Syd, have the spy in Texas swing over."