by Amy McKinley
I scowled as each one of them smirked. I should have kissed her. Whatever. I rolled my eyes at them to get them to knock it off. I would enjoy being close to Red while I could. It wouldn’t last once she got closer to me. I could finally admit to myself I wanted us to last and to become something more than a guy who was protecting her, more than some dude she was into for a little while. But no one except the guys had accepted everything about me.
I’d made my peace with the fact that I would never have what Jack, Liam, Matt, or Chris had. It was different for them. Chris and Trev’s mom wanted them. Jack had good parents before they’d died. Hayden’s grandmother loved him and did the best she could even though they lived in poverty. Mike and Keegan had never shared their stories with me, but I couldn’t imagine their parents didn’t want them. I’d assumed they were on their own after their guardians had died, like Jack.
They weren’t like me.
I needed to stop fantasizing about what could have been and focus on enjoying Red while I could. Movement drew me from my thoughts, and I tensed as Chris pulled out his laptop.
“It’ll take a few more hours until I can get the rest of the information I need to confirm how much Max owes them.” He flipped the laptop around so we could see. A man’s face filled the screen. He had a flat nose and squinty eyes. Dark, wavy hair curled at the collar of his white button-down, and a cigar dangled from his mouth.
“Do we know him?” Relief washed over me that it wasn’t anyone I recognized. The nagging sense of familiarity with Stella and Max’s situation had made me paranoid.
“Not that we can tell,” Jack interjected. “It is a big organization, and Chris is working on finding all the connecting parts, all the players. We’ll know for sure after you look through them.”
Fuck. I pushed up from the couch and paced. “How big, and are they limited to the north side?”
“Huge, and no. Their reach spans across the entire San Francisco area,” Chris answered. He hit a few keys, and a slideshow of pictures scrolled. I narrowed my eyes, hunting for the men burned into my psyche from the day before. A few photos were blurry, and I couldn’t make out their features, but their builds looked different than what I remembered. They didn’t matter.
There were more images. This was a major fucking organization, one that could house the three men I would never forget—who quite possibly would remember me too.
I stopped, my furious gaze clashing with Jack’s. He held up a hand. “That doesn’t mean we’ve had dealings with this particular organization. It just leaves open the possibility.”
“What do you mean by ‘dealings’?” Stella asked.
“That we’ve come into contact with any of them in one form or another while on missions or”—his gaze flicked to me—“when we were younger.”
Son of a bitch. My skin crawled, and I couldn’t stay in the room one more second. Everyone was staring at me and probably wondering what was going on in my mind. It was too much. I pushed off the couch. Red reached for my hand, but I drew it away before she could latch on. With quick steps, I stormed toward the kitchen.
Jack and Mike were the only ones who knew, who had been there after the night I’d left home. We knew almost everything about each other, except for that one thing. I’d kept it to myself and sworn Jack and Mike to secrecy. The other guys had their own problems. It had been a risk—it always was. Chris and Trev were dealing with hell from their dad, and Keegan was a live wire waiting to detonate. He always had been.
Rounding the corner, I threw my bottle into the recycling with a splintering of glass. Fuck. The smell of the smoke, the screams—they were back. That night was playing over and over in my head.
This can’t be happening. Jack said it wasn’t absolute that the same guys from the night of the fire would be with this group, but it made sense. I would know for sure when Chris got to work on finding all the members.
I turned, and a flash of red curls filled my vision. Stella blocked my path, and I ran my hands over my face, trying to calm down.
She didn’t say anything, just moved into my space. Her arms came around me in a hug, and she lay her head on my chest. Dammit. After several breaths, I relaxed into her and held her tightly, dropping my chin to the top of her head.
Her words were muffled and quiet, but they pierced my armor like none ever had before. “Listen up, hot neighbor.”
This woman. I grinned, and some of the weight I carried lessened.
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I care. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll help you deal with this, just like you’ve stuck by my side through my brother’s complications.”
If only she would. I wanted to believe her. Part of me was selfish enough to cling to what she said and say a resounding “fuck you” to the truth I knew, the one the people who raised me had drilled into my head every chance they got. My mother didn’t want me, so why would Red?
I shoved the destructive thoughts away and let myself accept her comfort for as long as she would give it.
Chapter 17
Hawk
Hayden sat on the couch with Stella, and they laughed at a comedy playing on TV. It was good to see her happy. With Red distracted, I could focus on the images Chris continued to pull up and the connections he found and identified with the Tridel Corp. It turned out that they ran the books for the track near the neighborhood we used to live in during high school.
My gut was a mass of cramps as I waited for confirmation. Chris organized the names and put them in order of hierarchy. The group had four arms covering four different territories. The images of the top guys who ruled over our old section of town weren’t clear enough for me to be sure. I added my nicknames to keep track of them. The head of the operation was David Malone, aka the Boss. The four territory heads were Stan Jones, Ben Anderson, Henry Garcia, and Landon Johnson, aka Lando.
“Jack said you might know some of these people.” Chris spoke in a subdued voice so no one could overhear our conversation. Even so, I was pissed that Jack had shared my possible connection to the Tridel Corp. I had no right to be, though. I knew all about Chris and Trev’s past, including the abuse and neglect they’d suffered. Still, I would have happily traded parents. Mine were true monsters.
“My mom’s husband gambled.” I pulled a chair up and sat by Chris. “There were a few guys who came to the house to collect. It was always the same ones.”
“Probably not the heads of the territory, then.”
“I wouldn’t think so, unless they moved up in rank.”
Chris nodded. Out of all the guys, Chris and I were the quietest. The difference was that Chris used to lose himself in technology, his escape from the world. I would isolate myself on rooftops or in hidden places where I could observe what I needed to without being seen.
“What’s your gut tell you?”
Everything. “Nothing good.”
“I’m almost done.” Chris rubbed a hand across his eyes, blinked a few times, then went back at it on his laptop. “Mari asked about you.”
Chris could multitask like the genius he was. “Did she?” Mari was his wife and a total badass. She and Hannah would go at it sometimes, and if Jo was there, that was amplified. It was fun to watch, so long as we weren’t dragged into their discussions. They all got along, in spite of being stubborn and hot-tempered. Hannah’s personality was icier, but she was lethal as hell. That was one woman never to piss off. Mari too, if there were knives around. We’d learned fast.
I couldn’t even remember what had gotten her so mad one time in Liam and Liv’s kitchen in Maine, but if looks could kill, Chris would have been dead. He’d leaned back against the counter, not saying a thing, a small grin playing around the corner of his mouth. She was spewing Spanish faster than I could translate, and then a knife went flying. It stuck in the cabinet to the left of his ear, maybe a centimeter away.
The fucker had burst out laughing. He hadn’t even flinched. It wasn’t unt
il Liv rushed in and took one look at the knife sticking out of the wood that everything calmed down. Mari apologized to Liv for the damage, and Chris tossed Mari over his shoulder and went back to their house. We didn’t worry as much when Chris and Mari went at it, but Hannah and Mari were frightening. Hannah was a walking weapon, and if Mari’s temper ignited, the possibility of an all-out bloodbath was real.
Laughter pulled me from my thoughts, and I glanced to where Stella and Hayden were still cracking up at the movie. She fit with us.
“I’ve got a few more pictures.” Chris got my attention, and I peered at what he’d added to his diagram. “This seems like the last of it.”
I barely heard what he’d said. I reached over him, and with a few taps, I highlighted three of the four pictures he’d added, making them larger to see every detail. The oversized, square jaw and deep-set eyes that stared back at me from the screen were the same that appeared in my darkest nightmares. The man held a secret I’d only shared with Jack and Mike.
“Fuck.” I stood so quickly that my chair crashed to the wood floor behind me.
Stella was by my side and clutching my arm in a matter of seconds. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t answer her. My mouth refused to move, and the secret I’d held onto lodged painfully in my throat. Fire cracked and sizzled in my mind’s eye. I blinked it away and met her gaze. Any chance with her would die when I inevitably told everyone what I had to say. I ignored her concern and pointed at the screen while all the guys crowded around me. I couldn’t stall any longer.
“I know this organization well. Until now, I didn’t have names to put to the operation or these three.” I met Jack and Mike’s gaze. “Life comes full fucking circle, doesn’t it?”
“Better now than before,” Mike said.
“True.” If they’d come for me when I was younger, there was no doubt I would be at the bottom of the ocean—or wishing I was while forced to work for them.
“What the hell is going on?” Keegan’s clipped question caused me to turn to him. “There’s something we don’t know about you? Is that the bullshit you’re telling us right now?”
I gave a partial nod. I’d fucked up in more than one way. My brothers would forgive me, but they would be mad as hell that I’d kept it to myself.
“Let’s take a seat and let Hawk fill us in on Stan Jones,” Jack ordered.
In my mind, Stan Jones would always be Porch Guy.
We moved back to the family room. Chris set the laptop on the coffee table. The screen showed the three guys’ photos I’d blown up minutes before.
“Ready?” Jack asked.
No, but what choice do I have? A corner of his mouth lifted in silent support, and after a deep breath, I allowed the memories free rein.
“Most of you know a little about my mom and her husband, Lenny.” Red didn’t. She stayed quiet at my side, her hand on my thigh in an attempt to reassure me. But I knew her loyalty to family. I would have confirmation of how she felt when she pulled it away in disgust after I said my piece. She too would be repelled by the type of person I was.
“Anyway, Lenny gambled and lost more than he won at the track. As a kid, I’d hear bits and pieces of how much he owed, but nothing stood out to me. There were other things I was more focused on than the loan sharks he had to pay.”
A few of the guys murmured their understanding. They’d grown up to be hypersensitive to sound. The subtle differences in body language could help us gauge if we were going to take a hit or could make it safely across a room.
“The night I left home, Lenny had a visit from two guys. They messed up both Lenny and my mom pretty bad. I was in my room, but they knew I was there.”
“How did they know?” Stella asked.
“Lenny told them. He tried to swap me for his debt.”
Stella sucked in her breath as Keegan lurched from his chair. Fury radiated from him. I locked onto his gaze and saw more than he probably wanted me to. Fuck, he has secrets too.
“I had to get out, and I did, just in time. They torched the place.” I’ll never forget the sound when the flame caught.
“They thought you died in the fire too?” Hayden asked.
I nodded because they must have. If they hadn’t, they would have come after me. No one was supposed to get away when things went that far. We all knew that well. “When I was out and running away, I looked back and saw a man stationed at the front of our house. The other two had just closed the door behind them, shutting Lenny and my mom inside.”
“That sucks, but I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us this before,” Chris said.
“Because I let them die. I could have gone to the neighbors next door and called for help. They were still alive when I went out the window.” This is when she’ll pull her hand away. “I could hear their screams.”
Chapter 18
Hawk
The memories were too close. I couldn’t keep them at bay. Soon, I would be coming face-to-face with several of the goons from that last night with the people who’d raised me. My stomach churned. Flashes came in fast succession until I gave in and let them play out.
The crash had been explosive, dragging me from sleep. I had frantically sought where the sound had come from. The door to my room was closed, and I wondered if he was coming. With my gaze glued on the doorknob, I waited, praying it didn’t turn. Heart pounding, I crouched and took stock of my surroundings. The only light in my small room was from under the door and the silvery glow the crescent moon cast through my window.
The door stayed shut, but I didn’t relax my stance. I had to assess what was happening.
I counted how many pairs of feet scuffed against the floor. Four people? Maybe five? The slide of shoes closest to my door wasn’t from Mom or her husband. I knew their tread well. Another step, and the squeak from the floorboard near the kitchen sounded more strained than if any of us had stepped on it.
The dull thud of a fist slamming into flesh echoed in time with the thump of my heart. High-pitched whimpers played under the violent melody of the beating. It continued until a heavy weight dropped to the floor.
“Time’s up, Lenny,” a smoke-ravaged voice threatened.
“I need more time,” Mom’s husband pleaded. His voice was thick with pain and desperation. “Give me a week.”
“Already did that. You’ve got nothing for collateral.”
“Take my wife or the kid. You know my word’s good if you hold them ’til I deliver the payment.”
My blood iced. The bastard was going to bargain with our lives. He was full of shit. He didn’t care about us.
“No!” Mom begged. “Take the kid. He’s a hard worker.”
Fuck, her too? It crushed any hope that she cared. I was only thirteen, and they were going to use me to save themselves.
“Boss says this is it. Payment’s due.”
“I swear I’m good for it,” Lenny pleaded.
I could hear the man walk around. I strained to hear if he was coming closer. His steps were tight. My guess was that he was moving in a circle, probably around Lenny. I visualized where they were. There was another by the kitchen counter, near Mom. I knew because that’s where her muffled crying was coming from. I’d lost the third’s movements while Lenny got pummeled.
“Please. I got a tip today for tomorrow’s race. I’ll have it then. I swear.”
“Always something with you,” the man said.
A dull thud sounded, and glass shattered. Had the glass fallen from the counter? Was it thrown? I couldn’t be sure. I knew what the next sound was, another punch. Lenny sold us out. Nothing good will come from tonight.
I didn’t need to hear more. It was time.
Something splashed against my door. The liquid dripped down and pooled underneath, seeping in. Footsteps crunched outside my window. With care, I slipped my pack over my shoulders as the acrid scent of gasoline burned my nose.
More splashing coated my window, some spilling in. A shadow mov
ed past. I had to go. I waited a minute for whoever was out there to move to the back of the house.
As soon as it was safe, I inched my window up until it was open wide enough to crawl through. Perched on the small ledge, I swung one leg through at a time before lowering myself out. I pushed away and dropped with a small thud into the dirt under my window.
Weaving through the junk strewn about the miniscule side yard, I paused. Deadly awareness accentuated my already heightened senses, and I peered into the night. A large form leaned over the rickety railing of our sagging porch. With his arms crossed, the thug looked out into the night. A cigarette dangled from his hand, and smoke curled above him as two men exited the front door. He turned to look at them, and I got a good view of him.
He had squinty dark eyes in a cumbersome square face that reminded me of a boxer’s. The image was seared into my mind’s eye. I would never forget any of them. All three were large, their noses crooked as if broken one too many times. One had a slight hunch to his oversized body.
“They aren’t going anywhere.” The guy who spoke threw a plastic gas container inside and shut the door. With his elbow, he smashed a small window pane in the door. He took the cigarette from the guy stationed out front and flicked it through the hole.
“What about the kid?” the trio’s lookout, or Porch Guy, murmured. “There can’t be any loose ends.”
“The house was thoroughly doused. You got the perimeter. He won’t survive,” the crooked-arm guy replied to the porch lookout.
Porch Guy grunted, and all three went down the stairs, heading to their car.
Like a sheet snapping in the wind, flames erupted. I turned and ran. They’re alive in there. I doubted they could get out on their own, not after the beating and then the fire. Bile climbed my throat, and the agony of what I was doing nearly brought me to my knees. There had been no going back. My fate would have been the same if those men caught me.
