Final Day

by Megan Erickson

  Everly nodded, her hand on her stomach. “Okay.”

  Tarr grabbed his sister and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be okay. We got this.”

  Everly left to go take care of her children while Erick shifted his weight uneasily, wringing his hands. “Are you sure you’re okay here by yourself?”

  “You’ll be at the apartment monitoring the cameras.”

  Erick’s face was twisted into a grimace. “Yeah, but I won’t be here to back you up.”

  “I’ll be fine. This is what I do. I’m armed to the teeth, and I know this house. They don’t. Okay?”

  Erick looked sick to his stomach. His phone beeped again. “Roarke’s on his way with Jock,” Erick said. “We’ll have backup.”

  “Go get your computer and whatever you need to take to the apartment. Meet you back here in five minutes.”

  Erick nodded, and they separated. Tarr retrieved his weapons from his sister’s safe. He had two sniping rifles, an AR-15, two handguns, some mace, and a few smoke bombs. He checked each piece of equipment, even though he’d cleaned and checked it all days ago. He had enough of an arsenal to take out Haro’s crew. After sticking a handgun in his shoulder holster under his hoodie, he dropped a ball cap low over his eyes. He left his guns in the locked office and met Erick in the front hall, where he was waiting with a small duffel bag.

  “Does Roarke know how many?” Tarr asked.

  “Six men. Frankie and the last of his crew.” Erick dropped his bag on the floor and stepped closer to Tarr, right up in his space. “What’s the plan? Are we taking them out? Roarke and I don’t kill unless it’s in self-defense, and even then it’s just to maim.”

  Tarr made his decision quickly. He was going to fight for his future this time. “I’ll be straight up. I will kill Frankie. He’s threatened me, you, and my family. The rest of them, I don’t give a fuck. Without him, they’ll go back to being bottom-feeders. He’s the one with the vendetta.”

  Erick inhaled deeply, nodded, and looked down.

  “Hey,” Tarr said, lowering his voice, unsure how to read Erick’s reaction. “You okay with that?”

  Erick glanced up, and a smile tugged his lips. “Yeah. If you don’t kill him, he’ll kill you. And me. I never said I was a saint either. I just don’t kill to kill, you know?”

  Tarr lifted his hand and cupped Erick’s neck, bringing their foreheads together until they touched. “We’ll have our headsets on and be in constant contact. I’ll be in your ear, and you’ll be in mine. And it’ll only be a matter of time until we’re in each other’s arms and on a beach somewhere. Or naked in bed.”

  Erick grinned, the deep grooves cutting into his cheeks. Damn, he was handsome. “Ah, I didn’t know you were so romantic.”

  “I have tons of lines saved up. Haven’t used ’em on anyone. So prepare for some mush.”

  Erick kissed him, and the kiss was just getting good when small feet pounded down the stairs. They broke apart reluctantly just as Cooper rounded the corner, wearing Avengers pj’s and slippers. “I’m ready!”

  Olivia and Everly followed, each carrying a bag. Tarr crouched down and held out his arms. “I have some things to get done here, then I’ll be over too, okay?”

  “We’ll miss you, Uncle Rett,” Liv said in her sweet, little voice. Tarr pressed a kiss to the side of her head and then did the same to Cooper. “I’ll miss you guys too. Listen to your mom and Erick, okay?”

  He waved to Erick, who led the kids out. Tarr hated watching him go, like Erick was driving away with a piece of him. How he’d managed to worm his way into Tarr’s heart in a matter of days was nuts, but not surprising. Erick was hard to resist.

  Last was Everly, who looked at him with wet eyes. “I’m scared for you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  He pulled her into a hug. “I care that you, the kids, and Erick are safe, okay? Don’t worry about me. I got this.”

  Ev nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’ll worry anyway.”

  “Fine, you can, just do it somewhere safe.”

  Her smile was watery. “I love you. I don’t say it enough, or maybe ever. But I love you.”

  His throat clogged, but he managed to get out, “I love you too. And after this, I’ll make changes. I promise.”

  She placed her hand over her heart. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “Please do,” he said, as she walked out the door.

  He waved as their car sped away, as his family and all he cared about drove out of his sight. Once he shut the door, he wasn’t Erick’s lover, or Everly’s brother, or Uncle Rett. He was Tarr, given that nickname because he knew how to draw people into a trap and keep them there, stuck like tar. That was what he was doing to Haro. He’d draw in him and his crew, trap them, and then take them out. Because no one fucked with his family and his future. And certainly not his happily ever after.

  * * *

  “My favorite movie?” Tarr asked several hours later as he sat in his sister’s darkened house, talking to Erick through a headset.

  “Yeah, we spent so much time arguing and hating each other. I want to get to know you.” Erick sounded tired and relaxed. Everly and the kids had fallen asleep long ago after popcorn and a movie.

  “So you’re asking me first-date questions?” Tarr checked his weapons again. It was a bit of a nervous habit.

  “Yeah, sure. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Camo.”

  “Did you just fucking say camo?” Erick laughed. “Camo isn’t a color.”

  “What do you mean it’s not a color?”

  “It’s a pattern.”

  Tarr gasped in mock outrage. “How dare you? Put some respect on camo’s name. Pattern.” He scoffed. “Psh.”

  “Well now this can’t work. I hate camo.”

  “You’re right,” Tarr said, nodding earnestly even though Erick couldn’t see him. “We can’t be together with this between us. We just can’t get past it.”

  “Right? I mean contact killing, I can live with, but you being a camo lover? Hard pass.”

  “I bet I can get you to love camo.”

  “How so?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. But I think I can make it work.”

  “Are you talking about wearing something sexy?”

  “Maybe.”

  Erick huffed. “I can resist that.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I’m made of stronger stuff than getting weak over a sexy ginger in some camo.”

  Tarr laughed loudly, wishing Erick was there with him but glad he wasn’t. “Okay, so movie—”

  “Hold up.” Erick’s voice changed in an instant, from jovial to all business. “I got movement in the perimeter I set up. Could be a neighbor. I got eyes on the cameras.”

  Tarr left the office where he’d been huddled and made his way in a running crouch to the front room. He peered through the curtains onto the street. Erick’s perimeter was two blocks so he waited with slow, even breaths to see if a car pulled onto the street.

  Moments later, one did, a silver van that looked like something a soccer mom would drive.

  “Everett,” Erick said, his voice low. “It’s them. I verified the license plate with the one Roarke gave me. Roarke and Jock are still about an hour out. They’re coming as fast as they can. Shit.”

  “It’s okay.” Tarr watched the van carefully. It slowed down in front of the house only slightly, and then kept going.

  “I knew you’d be there alone, but now that it’s actually happening, I’m trying hard not to freak out.”

  “Try harder. I need you focused, baby.”

  Erick’s breathing was loud through the headset. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  The car passed again, slowing down slightly before speeding up again. “What the fuck are they doing? Do you see this?”

  “Yeah. Hold on. I have a thermal imaging camera set up. Let me see if I can locate where they are in the car.”

  “It’s too dark f
or me to see inside, and the windows are tinted. Can barely make out the form of a driver,” Tarr said. He grabbed his binoculars, but even with the lights from the house, he couldn’t make out who was driving.

  Erick was quiet for a bit as he tapped away. Then the tapping stopped abruptly. “Wait.”

  “What?” Tarr maintained his cool. He couldn’t shoot straight with sweaty palms, with a heart beating like thunder in his ears. Thank God Erick wasn’t there.

  “Well there’s…this can’t be right.”

  “Erick. Tell me.”

  “Well, it’s only showing me one person in the van.”

  “Only one person?”

  “Yeah. What the fuck? This is the van. Maybe they sent one guy on lookout and the rest are on foot.”

  Tarr’s mind raced as the van drove by again. This time he was able to get a better look through the windshield at the face of the driver. And his heart nearly stopped. A woman was driving. Haro didn’t have a woman in his crew.

  Tarr tore out of the house.

  “Tarr!” Erick screamed in his ear. “What the fuck are you doing? Let me send Fluffy! What if it’s a trap? Get the fuck back in the house!”

  Tarr leaped in front of the van, and the driver slammed on the brakes. Her hands went up in a don’t shoot gesture. Tarr imagined he looked like a fucking wild man armed to the teeth. He ran to the driver’s side door and opened it. The woman inside yelped, “Oh my God, please don’t shoot me. I’m sorry. Please don’t shoot me!”

  “Who are you?” Tarr demanded as Erick continued to scream in his ear.

  “I’m Beth.”

  Like Tarr gave a shit what her name was. “Why are you driving this van?”

  “I—a man told me to drive this van up and down this street tonight at midnight. He said, if I didn’t do it, he’d kill my boyfriend.” She sobbed, tears streaking down her pale face. “I’m sorry!”

  Tarr looked around wildly, knowing this was crazy, but he had a hunch, and it wasn’t good. “Go home,” he said to Beth and slammed the car door shut. He made a beeline for the garage. “Erick,” he barked into the headset.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Lock the door. Call security.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I think they know where you are. That van was a diversion. Erick, I—”

  The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the sound of a heavy crash on the line. “Erick!” Tarr screamed.

  But Erick didn’t answer. All Tarr could hear was male shouts and the sounds of fists hitting flesh, and then another voice came through the headset. “Come unarmed within the hour, or I kill them all.” Then the line went dead.

  Tarr fell to his knees in the driveway, fighting to keep from passing out as his world shattered. His family. Erick. Fuck, he’d been outsmarted. Just when he thought he could have it all.

  He took a minute to get himself together. He would be worth nothing to those he cared about if he went in guns blazing without a plan. He looked up into the sky, at the stars, and wished on every single one. He didn’t have a religion, and karma had fucked him over more times than he could count.

  Then he rose to his feet, steadying himself. He cauterized the feelings of terror coursing through him, and then he walked toward the car. He’d be there within the hour all right, and this time, come hell or high water, the good guys would win.

  Chapter Eleven

  Erick

  Erick glared at Frankie Haro with his one good eye since the other was swollen shut. Why did shitheads like Haro and his crew always go for the face? Body shots hurt worse, but it was like these assholes wanted to see the evidence of their blows so they aimed for the face. Every time. Morons.

  Erick could take a punch. He hated it, but he’d been beaten up plenty of times in his life. First because he was a skinny nerd, then because he was just a nerd, and later because he was an antagonizing nerd.

  He shifted in the chair, trying to rotate his shoulders, which were in an awkward position since they were tied behind his back. The good news was that the guys had locked Everly and the kids in a bedroom alone. An armed guard stood outside. At least the kids didn’t have to see Erick’s face or look at a strange guy with a gun. They were scared, but he could hear Everly soothing them.

  More than anything, he was pissed they’d been duped. Frankie Haro was happy to tell Erick how they’d found Roarke’s tracker, but they’d changed cars to throw them off. Turned out they’d sent a guy ahead of time who’d followed Erick and Ev to the apartment. Bastard.

  “How’s your face?” Frankie asked, grinning around a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. He was a big guy, muscular, with a pockmarked face and a goatee.

  “Still better-looking than yours,” Erick said. See? This was why he got punched in the face a lot. Because he didn’t know enough when to appease people.

  Frankie didn’t bother retaliating. “Yeah? Heard Tarr likes your face. Likes more than that. Be glad you’re pretty enough to make Tarr’s cock hard. That’s why you’re still alive, because you’re just another bargaining chip to get him here and make him behave.”

  “You have the kids, pretty sure that’s enough collateral.”

  Frankie made a face. “Eh, kids are messy. You’re more fun. A little smack, maybe a finger or two, and Tarr will cooperate like a good boy.”

  “Can you take a toe instead? I don’t want to lose my world-class typing speed.”

  “Surprised Tarr doesn’t tape your smartass mouth shut.”

  “He likes my mouth.” Erick grinned.

  Frankie rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m about to tape your mouth shut or gag you, so how about you shut the fuck up?”

  Erick didn’t point out that Frankie started this conversation. He glanced at his smashed laptop, mourning its loss but also happy. They couldn’t use any of the security he’d set up against Tarr. They’d rushed in like bulls in a china shop and hadn’t stopped to think they could use his computer to their advantage. Tarr’s location, as well as Roarke and Jock’s, had been on the screen. Erick smiled to himself. Suckers. He quickly stopped smiling when he felt a trickle of blood leak down his chin from his split lip.

  He wished he could talk to Tarr, tell him that he was okay, that he could handle anything. Tarr worked silently and was good at what he did, but that might all change now that his emotions were engaged.

  The buzzer to the apartment rang loudly throughout the apartment. Frankie got up from his chair and strolled casually to the front door like he’d ordered pizza. He pressed the intercom button. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

  Over the speaker, one word came in a raspy voice. “Tarr.”

  “No hello?” Frankie asked. “Thought this would be a nice reunion.”

  Tarr didn’t answer. Erick had to hand it to him—the guy couldn’t be baited by his enemies.

  “Fine. Come on up.” Frankie buzzed Tarr through and then sat back down. He flicked his fingers to two of his men. “When he gets here, frisk him.”

  Within two minutes, there was a knock at the door. Two of the crew opened it up, and Tarr stepped inside. He wore a tan T-shirt, camo pants, and boots. His gaze went right to Erick, and when he saw him, he didn’t react, not even a twitch. It was an impressive level of self-control that Erick would never have. Still, Tarr didn’t take his eyes off Erick while the two men frisked him. When they declared him clean, they backed away. Only then did Tarr look at Frankie. “Where’s my family?”

  “In the back bedroom. And seriously, no hello? No ‘sorry for your brother’?” Frankie stood up and walked toward Tarr, hands clasped behind his back. “An apology would be nice. Maybe it would convince me not to take your sister. Eye for an eye and all of that.”

  Tarr still didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry about your brother,” he said in a dead tone.

  “That didn’t sound sincere.” Frankie glared at Tarr. “Sure you don’t want to repeat that?”

  Tarr didn’t speak.

  “All right then,” Fr
ankie said. “Cuff him. Bring the boyfriend. We’re going for a ride, kids.”

  Tarr clasped his hands behind his back and returned his gaze to Erick, watching him carefully as one of the men helped him to his feet. “What about his sister and the kids?” Erick asked.

  “Done with them.” Frankie grinned. “I got you, big guy. Tarr, you’ll play nice to ensure your love here stays alive, right?”

  “Yes.” When Tarr spoke, only his mouth moved, no other muscles. Frankly, it was fucking creepy, but Erick figured Tarr had to go to a dark place to maintain control.

  “See?” Frankie held out his arms. “Had to chase you all the way here, and I don’t even need to scare some kids. Good deal.”

  With jackets draped over their shoulders to cover their cuffed hands, Tarr and Erick were marched out of the apartment and down five flights of stairs to the lobby of the apartment building.

  As they stepped out onto the lobby, Erick’s heart began to sink. Kidnapping 101 was never let them take you to another location, and here Tarr and Erick were, marching to an SUV at the curb that would take them to someplace where a six-foot-deep grave the size of Tarr was already dug.

  Erick glanced at him, but Tarr stared straight ahead, jaw tight. His entire body was stiff, and he looked like he was on death row. Was Tarr scared? Nervous? Confident? Erick wasn’t fucking sure, and it was driving him crazy. If Tarr didn’t have a plan, they were fucked.

  Erick was shoved into the backseat of the van between two members of Haro’s crew, while Tarr sat in the row in front of him, between two other members. The fifth member drove while Frankie sat in the passenger seat, happily chewing gum.

  “My brother would be so proud,” he said. “Getting one up on Everett ‘Tarr’ Hawk. Hard work finding your name. We had a little setback down in Florida. But we got back on track.”

  Frankie kept talking, and Erick studied the two men on either side of him. They looked like typical goons who followed someone smarter and more talented than them. They stared out the windows, gently rocking with the motion of the car as the SUV pulled out of the parking lot and headed down an empty road.