Page 41 of Crown of Death
“I am taking you to Las Vegas this weekend,” Cyrus says, and my eyes flick up to his in surprise. “We will pay a visit to the House of Valdez. I want you to see what our world is reallyabout.”
Ourworld.
He says it with suchease.
Like he really believes it. Doesn’t doubt it at all. Like it isn’t so totallycrazy.
“Fine. But first I need to go back to my apartment and clear out the rest of my things,” I say, not letting him see the disbelief crawling all through my body. “Might as well wrap that up first. And you’re coming to help me. You. Not Mina. Not Fredrick. So, pick me up after work tomorrow with a truck. And bring some workgloves.”
Cyrus stares at me, emotionless, for a moment. But slowly, slowly enough that it creeps into my chest and wraps a razor net around my heart, a smile pulls on his mouth. He takes one step away from me, and thenanother.
I look over his shoulder, at Mina and Fredrick, who watch us. Each of them wears an equally shockedexpression.
And I know, Cyrus is not the kind of person you bossaround.
But I don’t give a damn who he is to the rest of them. I’m not going to let him have all thecontrol.
* * *
I’m doubtful.
Yes, I bossed Cyrus around. I told him he had to help me himself. But he’s obviously a big wig. He might have looked entertained by my attempts to tell him what to do, but that doesn’t mean he’ll doit.
But when I walk out of Sykes Funeral Home at five o’clock, it’s not Mina or Fredrick waiting inside a small moving truck. It is, in fact,Cyrus.
A little smile crooks in the corner of my mouth as I walk across the parking lot. I can’t see his eyes, because they’re covered with thick sunglasses, but a little smile of his own pulls on hislips.
“I’m surprised,” I say when I pull the door open and slip into the passenger seat. “I didn’t think you’d really behere.”
“I’m a man of my word,” he says. He puts the truck into gear, and with a jerky jump forward, he turns to leave the parking lot. “Look, I brought gloves andeverything.”
He nods his head toward two pairs of gloves on the dashboard. A larger black pair for him, and a smaller pink pair forme.
I huff a laugh and shake myhead.
Ridiculous. All ofit.
Cyrus still has a long way to go in becoming a smooth driver, but he gets us there without any damage to the truck, or anyone else on the road. He pulls into the parking lot of my apartment and backs toward my stairs, taking up two parkingplaces.
Thankfully it’s fairly quiet, most people still atwork.
I climb out, digging through my purse for the keys. Up the stairs I climb, Cyrus only three stepsbehind.
I slow as I approach the door, and my heart sinks into my stomach as I see the lime green piece of paper taped to thedoor.
SECOND NOTICE OF EVICTION. ALL BELONGINGS WILL BE FORFITTED IN SEVENDAYS.
I reach out to snatch it from the door, but another hand darts out, ripping it from thetape.
“Eviction?” Cyrus says, reading it over with furrowed brows. “On whatgrounds?”
My eyes dart over to his for just a moment. My jawtightens.
I shove the key into the lock and push the dooropen.
“I’ve had a few financial problems in the last two months,” I say simply, reaching for the light switch, only it doesn’t flick the lightson.
Great. The power has been shutoff.