The Untouchables (Ruthless People 2)

“She’s one step ahead of everything. We make a play, she makes one better. Any thoughts?” Because I was all out of motherfucking ideas.

He sat back, leaning against his chair and scratching the back of his head. “None. I don’t get it. That shot… it was a fucking good one. It’s the type of shot I aim to take.”

“Get to your point.”

“My point is, she could have easily killed Mel. Just like she could have after the accident. She had Mel in her crosshairs, so why didn’t she?”

“That I understand.” I wish I didn’t, but I did. “She gets off on the physical torture. She poisoned Orlando for years. Now she’s making sure her daughter lives in fear. I want to know her end game. There is a bigger picture here. What’s going to happen when Colemen wins office? We both know it’s going to happen, that’s why you’re home early. He has a ninety-one percent likelihood to win. That’s higher than any test you’ve ever taken.”

“Fuck you.”

I grinned, downing the rest of my brandy.

“So? What do you want us to do?” he asked seriously.

Smoking, I thought about that for a moment before pulling out the phone in my pocket.

“Aviela called Mel right before she took the shot. I’m sure it’s a burned phone, but still, look into it for me.” Dropping it on the table in front of him, I put out my cigar and stood.

“Yes, boss.”

I didn’t trust him as much I as I wished I could. Moreover, I didn’t trust his wife. There was a rift between us that went beyond just our childhood. However, if there was anyone in the world able to gain my trust, it was him. After all, he was blood.

“Don’t finish all my brandy,” I directed before leaving. I hadn’t seen Mel in over an hour and my hands were starting to twitch. Every damn lock had been changed for a second time, we had added at least twenty different cameras and now had men checking the grounds every hour. None of that extra security really gave me any peace of mind when it came to her.

“Mel,” I called out when I entered our room. Our bed was still made. I had figured she would be asleep.

“In here,” she yelled from the bathroom. Following the scent of vanilla and the soft glow of candlelight, I noticed her dress and shoes in a pile next to the door. The sight of her soaking in our bathtub—the mounds of her breasts covered with suds, her hair in a messy bun, strands sticking to her neck and her eyes closed—was almost enough to bring me to my knees.

“Stop staring. I would invite you in, but it’s a little warm for you,” she said softly, not bothering to open her eyes.

“Yeah, sure. You and I both know you want that tub to yourself.” Rolling up my sleeves, I took a seat on the marble right next to the pearlescent tub, and rubbed circles onto her stomach. She took a deep breath, her breasts rising, before she relaxed into my hand.

“Antonio asked Adriana to marry him,” she whispered. “I’m not sure how she’s going to handle this, and I don’t have time to help her…I don’t know how.”

“We can’t. The only thing we can do is cut off the witch’s head.”

She smiled, her eyes only opening slightly. “Who gets what part? I want more than a pound of her flesh. One for me and one for my father.”

“You’ve been reading The Merchant of Venice to him again, haven’t you?” The kid was going to come out speaking old English.

“It beats you reading Atlas Shrugged any day.”

“That novel is—”

“A vision of what the world could be, blah, blah, blah. Thank God you read it while I’m sleeping.”

“Obviously you weren’t in a deep enough sleep…”

Before I could finish, she splashed the water with her hands, soaking my face.

“Couldn’t help myself.” She laughed.

“You’re lucky you’re pregnant.”

“Correction: you’re lucky I’m pregnant because I would so easily kick your ass. Again.”

“You beat me once.”

“Once is all you need.” She waved her hand over her stomach as if to prove her point.

I was too tired to even argue. Resting my head against the tub, we both sat in the calmness trying to unwind. But my wife didn’t believe in rest. She was always thinking about work.

“How much did Roy pay us?”

Sighing, I didn’t move. “We made just over 312 million, most of the money is going offshore, remember? Are you planning on taking the money and running?”

She shook her head and sat up straighter. “Nope, just thinking maybe we should go away when the baby is born.”

“We have a few weeks.”

“Actually, I think my water just broke.”

“What!” I yelled, jumping up. “Are you sure? How can you fucking tell? You’re in water!”

“Ahh…” she hissed, grabbing the sides of the tub. “I’m fucking sure, so stop panicking and help me out of this damn thing!”

Dropping a few towels on the floor, I grasped her arm and her waist, holding her to me as I pulled her out. I wanted to just lift her, but I doubted that I would be able to. Slowly, I walked her back into our room, and helped her onto the bed.

“Adriana packed a bag.”

“Got it,” I stated, running to her clothes. “Ahh shit, I just stepped on one of your fucking heels!”

“Liam, I need clothes, my soft sweats.”

Glancing around the rows upon rows of clothing, I had no idea where the hell any of her shit was.

Grabbing the black pair, I rushed over to see her breathing quickly. Looking up at me, she stared at the sweats in my hands. “That’s not the one.”

“Does it really mat—”

“Your son is trying to push his way through my motherfucking vagina! I want my bloody grey sweatsuit!” she screamed, before taking a deep breath, and rubbing my hand onto her stomach.

I felt myself freeze. She’s in labor. Holy shit, my wife is in fucking labor.

“Oh, please, please don’t do this, Liam! Don’t be that guy who faints! I need my clothes!”

Nodding, I ran back into her closet, avoiding her damn shoes, and pulling the suit off the hanger before rushing back to her. Kneeling before her, I pulled her pants up around her legs.

“Ah, this really fucking hurts,” she hissed, grabbing hold of my shoulders as another contraction started.

“Just breathe, baby.” Holding the sides of her stomach, we stared at each other, breathing until it passed.

Sighing and cracking her neck, she put on her jacket.

“Thank God for baby books.”

“Dad,” I said into the phone. “Listen, Mel’s water just broke…”

“What?” he screamed before yelling for my mother. “Evelyn! Mel’s in labor…”

“Pop, listen to me! I need a barrier around us as we get to the hospital. We’re heading down now.” I think he got me, but I couldn’t tell with all the shuffling around the room.

“Of course you were going to come early and when I was exhausted,” Mel whispered to her stomach. “As if I wasn’t nervous already.”

Taking her hands, I kissed the palms of each of them. “We’re going to be okay. All of us are going to be okay, I swear.”