by Coralee June
I ripped off the tape covering his mouth unceremoniously and winced when he groaned. “Stupid fuck,” Mack moaned while shaking his head.
“You’re welcome, dick breath,” I replied while pulling my knife out and cutting at the ropes binding him.
“Why the hell are you here? You won’t make it out alive. I’ve tried t-twice.” His voice was shaky. He was feverish as fuck to the touch. Mack needed a doctor immediately. “None of this is worth it. Gavriel’s blackmail isn’t worth it.”
I didn’t understand a single word that he said, but I managed to cut him free while listening. I didn’t usually like to know Gavriel’s reasoning. One, because it made me even more involved than I already was. And two, because it just pissed me off. I didn’t like knowing that all of this was for some petty gang shit.
I hauled Mack up to a standing position, and he looked around the room in confusion. “Is that a dead man with his dick out?” he asked while furrowing his brow.
“Yes.”
“I think he broke my nose.”
“Your entire fucking face is broken. Let’s go.”
I guided Mack out of the house, gripping his elbow and dragging him along. I kept my ears open for approaching cars and didn’t hear anything. Mack was wheezing and using his free hand to grab his side. Every step seemed to pain him. Fucking hell. I might have to carry him.
We walked right out the front door, deciding the pomp and circumstance of a grand exit was better than forcing Mack’s broken body through a busted window.
I was skeptical of how easy it was. Someone should have shown up by now. Mack was practically in the open. The three guards watching him were useless. This was a fourteen-and-a-half-million-dollar home, and not a single cop showed up to check it out. Something was up.
We exited the front gate, and I had to practically drag Mack down the road. His legs were shaking as he walked. The night moon illuminated the pavement in front of us, and crickets could be heard chirping in the grass. “We’ll never make it. We’ll never make it.”
I ignored Mack’s repeated musing as we made my way to my hidden truck parked off the road and covered by trees. I was just about to open the door and help Mack inside when I heard it.
I heard the deadly parade.
Three decked out Escalades barreled down the road. Some of them had their windows open and guns aimed at the woods. Their headlights cast shadows along the trees, and I knew with complete certainty that they’d either find us or we’d end up in a car chase we wouldn’t win. “Fuck.”
I opened the driver’s side door and shoved Mack inside. He struggled and whimpered as I pushed his back to get him in. Fishing in my pockets, I handed him the keys. “You better fucking stay awake and survive this, old man. If we both die, I’ll kick your ass in hell.”
“I’d argue with you, but we don’t have time, and we both know you always get your way. God’s speed, asshole.”
I patted his shoulder. “My phone is in the glovebox. Call Roe and get to her. I’m going to take their cars down. The second I get the first one, you haul ass out of here. The distraction will give me clearance for the other two and should give you enough time to make it out.”
I slammed the door shut, not waiting for his response. I didn’t have time for goodbyes. I didn’t have time to even think.
I held my gun at the ready and crouched down. Slipping closer to the road, I watched the headlights as they drove up and down the asphalt, looking for us. I went to my knees, then my stomach. Looking through the sight, I followed the closest Escalade as it sped down the road. I aimed. I breathed in and prayed they didn’t have bullet proof tires.
One.
Two.
Three.
I exhaled and pulled the trigger, hitting the front, driver’s side tire. The Escalade spun out of control and ran into a towering tree. Wood splintered and exploded at the impact, as a shower of leaves fell down from the branches.
Behind me, Mack shot out of the woods and passed me on my right before peeling out on the drive.
The other two cars stalled indecisively, and a few men stumbled out of the first car. Mack drove on, not giving them a chance to catch him, and I waited for one of them to jolt out of their stupor and chase after him. One second passed, and the second car sputtered to life, accelerating down the long road after Mack. I aimed. I breathed in and out.
Down. I hit the rear tire with ease, sending the car to flip round and round and round. I listened to the crunching of metal. The squealing of tires. It scraped along the pavement and didn’t stop until it hit dirt.
Adrenaline and satisfaction made me smile as I watched through my scope. The first car had all its doors open, the men flooding from the seats like ants to help their friends. I aimed at one of the taller men. He was a large, broad target.
Down.
I scanned the night for another. “Got you,” I whispered when I found a clear view of another suit-wearing ill-trained idiot.
I aimed.
I let thrill spike through me.
I breathed in the smell of burning rubber and death.
“Not so fast,” a low growl said. I gasped, then twisted my neck to face the man that had found me. But the moment I looked, I was greeted with the bottom of a boot.
And the world went black.
ROE
Mack was half dead by the time we found each other. He couldn’t even tell me what had happened. He drove until he couldn’t drive anymore, parked, and called me.
I answered the phone, expecting to hear Hunter’s honey voice. I’d been pacing the floors of my motel room, anxiously waiting for his call. I was thankful that Mack was alive, but that relief was short-lived.
Hunter stayed behind.
I wanted to have a moment of panic, but time was of the essence. I took a cab to where he was parked at three in the morning. The mediocre first aid kit I’d grabbed at a local pharmacy wasn’t nearly enough to help Mack. His face was so swollen he couldn’t really make facial expressions. His nose was crooked and broken. His eyes so swollen I was shocked he could see the road. He moaned and argued as I drove him to the hospital. “Don’t take me to a damn hospital. I need Advil.” I knew I was breaking some gang rules by taking him there, but we didn’t have much of a choice. He was feverish and bloodied. I was surprised he managed to drive away.
“You need antibiotics. Maybe even surgery. You’re wheezing.”
“Fuck,” he groaned as I sped down the road. I was thankful it was the middle of the night. At least I didn’t have to fight New York traffic.
“You have to run,” Mack said. We were parked outside the hospital. I’d run inside to get help, and we both had to wait a couple of minutes for a few nurses to help me lift him out of the truck. “You have to get out of here.”
Hunter’s promise stood out in my mind as Mack was pulled onto a stretcher. Run. If shit goes south, don’t stick around.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Mack. You’re going to be okay, right?” I asked while following the team of nurses walking into the hospital. They were barking orders to one another, assessing his damage in rapid-fire procession. I could barely keep up.
“I’ll be fine,” he grumbled. “I fucking hate hospitals.”
I realized quickly that his aversion to this place had nothing to do with outing his gang and everything to do with his daughter. I wished we had more time for me to reassure him, but Mack wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings. I honestly just hoped they pumped him with enough painkillers that he forgot where he was. I softened and followed the team toward a set of doors. “Only family past this point,” one of the nurses that was holding a clipboard said.
I snapped my gaze to them and rolled my shoulders back. “He’s my dad,” I explained quickly. I glanced at Mack, and his battered face twisted into a half smile.
We barreled through the door, and they started hooking Mack up to IVs. I waited by the curtain, watching with fear. “That’s my daughter,” Mack said
, pride seeping through his tone. “She’s my daughter, guys,” he then slurred again. Tears filled my eyes. Mack really was my father. He protected me. Loved me. He was the only constant in my life.
“He’s delirious,” one of the doctors said. “We need to get his fever down.”
“I want a cath and blood sample now,” another said.
At the mention of the catheter, I immediately slipped out. I absolutely refused to see that.
I stood in the waiting room for a minute, glancing at the door leading to where Mack was, then back at my feet. I wanted to be here for him, but Hunter needed me too. I couldn’t take on Bloomington by myself. I wasn’t stupid enough to get myself trapped and killed, too.
But I knew someone with the resources to save him. I knew someone strong enough to stop all of this.
“Ma’am,” someone said, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Is that your truck parked out front? You need to move it.”
I took a deep breath. Mack would understand. I had to do this.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m leaving. Can you give this number to the charge nurse? Tell him to call it with updates on Mack McCrey.”
“Ma’am, there are forms to fill out…” he called at my back. I ignored him and strode out of the waiting room before getting in Hunter’s truck. After turning it on, I took a deep breath.
It was time to find Gavriel Moretti.
I didn’t have to knock on the door of Gavriel’s building. I just stood outside and waited. Gavriel saw everything. He knew everything. Three minutes in the autumn chill was all it took before two guards were walking toward me. “I’m here for Gavriel,” I said to them while cautiously raising my arms up for them to pat me down.
“If I were you, I’d leave,” one of them replied before running his hands over my back and down my thighs. They led me inside, and my heart raced. Last time I came here, things were different. Hunter said Gavriel didn’t want to be involved, but this was his kill. This was his mission. I wasn’t about to let Hunter die because of stupid gang shit. It wasn’t fair. Hunter wanted out, and even though I knew Gavriel would have brought him back regardless, it still made me feel like shit that we were in this position because I couldn’t let him go. There were no regrets, and I wouldn’t trade my new understanding of Hunter for the world, but that didn’t mean I was going to let this ruin everything.
The posh building was dark, the shades drawn, blocking the early morning light. Despite this, everywhere was stirring with life. I could hear a shower running down the hall, and I smelled bacon cooking. “He’s in the kitchen,” one of the guards said.
“Lead the way.” My voice was rough. Feet trudging across the carpeted hallways, I kept my eyes and ears open. I didn’t exactly know what I was going to say to Gavriel. I was desperate for help and had nothing to bargain with. Gavriel seemed to care a lot about family and loyalty, but that didn’t mean shit. He was in the business of looking out for himself.
A hint of sausage joined the smell of bacon, both the savory scents filling my nose when I entered the kitchen. Gavriel was wearing a thick burgundy robe and was flipping eggs on the stovetop. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said, his back facing me.
“You and I both know I had to.”
Gavriel reached to his right and grabbed a handful of onion and bell pepper to add to his breakfast concoction. “You don’t know the rules, but you’ll learn soon enough.” I swallowed as Gavriel glanced over his shoulder at the men flanking me. “Leave,” he ordered calmly.
I waited patiently as the two men shuffled out of the kitchen. Even though I knew they worked for Gavriel, I felt even more afraid when they left. Being alone with the infamous Bullet leader was like walking into a lion’s den. It was like standing out in an open Oklahoma field and waiting for the tornado to touchdown. He was deadly. It was just the vibe he gave off.
“Hunter was captured last night,” Gavriel began. He still hadn’t turned to look at me, which for some reason made me even more scared.
“He went to save Mack,” I explained.
“He should have waited. Bloomington was the target.” Gavriel’s voice was cold and calm. His shoulders rolled back with confidence as he cooked.
I shook my head. “Mack would’ve been dead by then. He’s barely alive now.”
Gavriel meticulously grabbed a nearby navy blue porcelain plate and put his breakfast on it. I watched him fold a cloth napkin into the shape of a triangle and slip a silver fork inside of the crease. “There are always casualties in war, Roe Palmer.”
“But this isn’t even our war!” I wasn’t planning on raising my voice to Gavriel Moretti, but it was infuriating how calm he was. “None of this is Hunter’s fault, and now he’s been captured.” Tears started to slowly stream down my face. I hated looking so weak, but the emotions of the last few days had finally caught up to me.
“You’re right,” a soft voice from behind me said. “It’s not your war. It’s mine.” I spun around to look at Sunshine. She was wearing a black silk robe that hit midthigh. Her hair was wild and full-bodied, like she’d been rolling around in bed all night. I didn’t know this woman from Adam, but a spike of anger surged through me at her words.
“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Gavriel said. I was still very confused about all of their dynamics.
“I wanted to come downstairs,” she replied. “Let’s all have a seat, hmm?” At her request, the three of us found chairs at the breakfast table and awkwardly sat down. I didn’t know what to say, but I was restless. I didn’t have time for any of this. We needed to get to Hunter now.
“My father was a very bad man,” Sunshine said while picking up her fork. She daintily put the cloth napkin in her lap before looking at me. “I’ve made it my mission to tell the world about the sins of my father. It’s been several years since he died, but more and more information is still coming out. I’m still finding victims. We’re still discovering his associates.”
I briefly wondered what it was her father had done, but it didn’t feel right to ask. What did this have to do with Bloomington? Sunshine seemed almost fragile as she spoke. She paused for a moment to run her thumb over the edge of her fork, as if counting each point. “I came upon some evidence linking my father to Bloomington. There’s a network of men in political positions who use their power to get away with very bad things.”
Her father must’ve had to be pretty damn bad. She was determined to bring him down even after death. And yet…she married a mob boss. It almost felt hypocritical, but I wasn’t one to judge.
“So you have evidence on Bloomington?” I was trying to understand what she was saying without pushing too far. “Why don’t you just go to the police?”
“For starters, it’s not enough evidence to incriminate him,” Gavriel replied. “Besides, men like him have too many people on the inside. He’s too powerful. Two influential. Hell, he parades his mistress right under his wife’s nose and yet is portrayed as this huge family man. We even tried submitting the tapes to someone in the news just to put doubt in the public’s eye, and our contact ended up dead.”
“But you have the leverage,” I replied in confusion.
“Not strong enough leverage. It’s not enough to get him in jail.”
“If he’s so powerful, then why not just let it go? Forget the blackmail and leave it be. Revenge on a dead man isn’t worth all of this,” I spat out. Gavriel immediately slammed his fist on the table. I jumped, but Sunshine stayed completely still. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.
“I can’t let it go,” Sunshine said while gripping her fork. I felt bad for Sunshine. She was obviously tortured by whatever her father did. She seemed lost in revenge. Just because I didn’t understand the details, didn’t mean I didn’t feel empathy for the woman. But at the end of the day, I was here for me and mine. I was here for Hunter.
Gavriel spoke up as she stared off at the wall. “We had hoped Hunter would get the job done quietly so we could get our revenge
and move on. Then Mack tried to be the hero, and Bloomington found out who was trying to tarnish his image.”
“So what now? He has Hunter,” I said.
“He does,” Gavriel agreed. I tried to stay patient. He sounded far too fucking calm for all of this.
“I’m still confused. If your evidence isn’t enough to do anything, why does he even care?” I asked.
At that, Sunshine let out a dark laugh. “He knows someone has tried repeatedly leaking a video of him and Paul Bright to the press. But up until Mack went Rambo on Gracie Mansion, he didn’t know who had the video. And right now, our only leverage is that he doesn’t know what the video is. He just knows it exists.”
“He’s spinning plates,” Gavriel added. “Hundreds of them. One is bound to drop.”
Paul Bright? Why did that name sound so familiar? Was that Sunshine’s father?
“What is on the tape you have?”
“It’s a video of Bloomington meeting my father at a park. The camera is shaky, but you can hear him shouting at my father to delete some tape. He’s saying it was just one time. He didn’t want to do it again.”
Clarity hit me. “Bloomington thinks you have your father’s tape.”
“And whatever is on it is incriminating enough that it won’t matter what connections he has.”
“But you don’t have it?”
“No.”
I stewed over all of this information. Sunshine had blackmail but not enough blackmail. Bloomington was searching for who had the original tape. I smiled.
“You don’t have to have the actual tape. You just have to convince him you do,” I replied, an idea forming in my mind. “It’s your father’s tape, right? If you showed up threatening to out him, he’d have to believe you.”
“What are you saying?” Sunshine asked.
“I’m saying. You go there with a wire. You get him talking. Convince him you have the tape, then get him to admit what’s on it. A confession is far more valuable anyway. There’s nothing that can cover that. And we can bargain for Hunter. Trade fake blackmail in exchange for him and a confession.”
