Garden of Sins

“What are we doing at this fuckin’ bar, bro? They don’t have single malt, I know that because I’ve been here before! Several times!” I’m so nervous. I feel like stabbing someone or beating them to death. My fingers can’t keep still. I rub them together and crack them. We’re in a bar, where we’re supposed to follow your trail, Isabelle.

“Stay here for two minutes and don’t hit anyone in the face,” Caden demands distinctly as he looks me in the eye. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I grumble, rolling my eyes and then mumble, “Maybe.”

“You’re a nuisance, Carter,” he mutters, looking like Granddad. I roll my eyes again as he disappears into the bar.

I wait for him outside the door with a cigarette and walk stiffly from left to right, hitting the cigarette much too hard because I have no peace. I’d much rather fuck someone or hit someone or do anything but wear out the asphalt.

A trace of you, Isabelle.

I hope the information is wrong because I don’t want to find you. Fuck, I want to find you. I don’t want to find you. I can’t find you. He’s going to kill you. He wants me to hit you. I have to find you. I have to feel you again. Fuck, I’m losing my mind!

I have so much shit inside me and the streets are so empty today. It’s dark and the moon is illuminating the dirt here as if it wasn’t enough that it exists at all.

Shit, Isabelle, you’re in town. What are you doing here? And where are you? I want to see you! You have to go. Dorian is on your trail. Fuck, I’m losing my mind. Maybe you’re in there. You like small racy bars. Maybe you’re confusing Caden with me right now!

My steps stop short. Fuck, I’ll fucking kill him if he touches you! Is he touching you?

All of a sudden, I flick my cigarette butt away and rush into the bar. The few people I see move out of the way. I see Caden right away and barely restrain myself from calling out to him. He is alone, thank God. He is talking to the bartender and turns away when he sees me coming. I scan the bar, but you’re not here, Isabelle.

Are you hiding from me now too?

Caden grabs my arm as soon as he gets to me and pulls me along. As we leave, I tear myself loose from him and march outside in front of him. Caden follows as I step out into the fresh air again. We walk along the road over uneven cobblestones to his car and I remember what Dorian said to me earlier — what he wants me to do.

So I turn to my brother. “Caden, I don’t want to hit Isabelle. I’ll fake it or something. Maybe I’ll break my hand first, then I won’t be able to do anything.”

Caden smiles sadly. “We’ll work it out somehow. She’s long gone by now anyway. The guy in the bar saw her two days ago.

“Okay.” I nod and think about what I’m going to do next. I’m restless, Isabelle, and most of the time I don’t feel much thanks to the drugs. My thoughts are erratic and I can’t really grasp a single one. And that is a good thing. The night is still young and I wonder where you are at this very moment.

“Carter!” Caden snaps his fingers in my face because I’ve drifted off again. “Get in! We’re here!”

“Oh!” I turn and get in the passenger seat. Caden starts the engine and backs out of the parking space.

We drive through the shabby south quarter where the potholes knock me out of the leather seat every time. I run my hand through my hair and bounce my foot because I hate this drive. It is a senseless waste of time. I could be inside a hooker right now.

“Fuck, what’s that?” Caden whispers and slams on the brakes so hard that I fly forward, almost banging my forehead against the dashboard because naturally, I’m not wearing a seatbelt. Safety sucks.

“Shit, what’s the point?” I whine before I notice the blue light out of the corner of my eye, the full roadblock, and the two shiny black Mercedes with blue lights on top as well as three buses. Oh. Shit.

“Carter, did you remember to distribute the payoffs? Why are there cops? Why are there FBI agents, Carter?” Suddenly, it occurs to me that I forgot to deliver the bribe money three days ago — or was it four? Or was it five?

“FUCK!!” I run a hand through my hair and then run it under my tingling nose because it feels like there is suspicious white powder sticking to my face.

“Shit, Carter, I can’t get you out of every crappy situation! You can’t forget that shit, bro. Now they have raided the place. How am I going to explain this to the boss?” Caden desperately asks and he never is.

“You always do, bro,” I say soothingly, slipping deeper into the seat as he glares at me.

“Fuck you, shithead,” he hisses. “Stay here, you coked-up piece of shit!” He gets out and gently closes the door. As he strolls toward the cars, he puts on a businessman mask. He’s a coked-up piece of shit himself, Isabelle. You’re going to get along quite well with him. Right. Because you’re too much alike.

To be on the safe side, I’ll leave my gun under the seat and empty my pockets. I find the bag of pills I’ve been searching for for a week. I am happy about it and think about whether I should take one right now or later. Then I quickly stuff them under the seat and follow Caden out of the car and across the street. Maybe he needs help from my fists.

I stroll over as he did, however, I don’t see him, but I hear him.

“Argh, no!” he groans and my gaze whips around. He is on the other side at the back entrance of the club and I hurry to get there because I don’t know what’s going on.

Well,

Crap!

My father has just arrived and how: decked out in FBI gear with eight other FBI agents also in full gear. I can feel the adrenaline kicking in. I’m in the mood for chaos, like Caden always says. Dad is in front of Caden and his men are getting ready to raid the club. He’s in full FBI gear, vest included. His face is shaved and his dark hair is neatly combed back. I am behind my brother, who does not see me but certainly feels me, while he is having a stare-off with our father. Behind his back, he shoos me away with his hand. I sniff again, ignore Caden, and march toward my family.

Now my father’s gaze shoots over Caden’s shoulder to my bloodstained, coked-up face with the new scar that runs across my left cheekbone to my temple. The other motherfucker I fucked up a month ago was also pretty coked up and brutal. Also a Russian. You never fool around with them.

Shocked, Dad stares at me with his undefinable eyes and Caden whips around to me. “I told you to wait in the car, Carter,” he snaps, reminding me of Granddad, how he messed with me as a kid, even though I didn’t do anything. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I shrug i

“Carter, get the fuck back in the car.”

“No!” I frown. “You’re not going to have all the fun alone.” I crack my fingers and Dad’s eyes shoot to my rings, then over my bloody knuckles and the XX tattoo on my hand that Caden also has, and finally back to my eyes, which are probably already black because my pupils are capturing everything. Briefly, something like pain flashes through his expression, but luckily, I’m too obtuse for his shit.