by Darcy Ray
The bar we are heading to is a low key dive bar that serves all types of liquor along with the best bar food. So each of us are dressed in casual attire, which for me happens to be short jean shorts and a black cami. Octavia is wearing jeans shorts with a shimmery, strapless silver shirt. Thankfully we did because as we walk into the bar, we are blasted with lingering body heat and the heat from the kitchen. Classic rock music blasts from the surround sound speakers and people fill the floor either playing pool or darts or chatting with their friends.
Luckily, we find an open table in the back of the bar large enough to fit us all. We all slide into the booth, except for Frank and Joe, who head to the bar to get our drinks and whatever junk food they are craving. Leaning over, I yell to Tavia, "We are getting on the dance floor tonight, miss thing! So get some of that liquid courage into your system."
"Hell yeah, bitch! We are going to have a fucking amazing night and get so fucked-up we will still be drunk tomorrow!" As she pulls away, she yells out, "Owww owwww!" Her voice is loud enough that the rest of the bar hears her, and then they all begin to mimic her. The vibe in the bar is happy-drunk people excitement—a vibe I can definitely relax in.
Shortly after, Frank and Joe return with their hands full of buckets that are shoved full of bottles and ice. They set the buckets on the table and begin pulling the bottles out and popping their tops, and begin to pass out the beer. With one in everyone's hand, we cheers and clink our bottles together. Some of which sound like they nearly shattered. Just as soon as our cheers is over, we all start to chug our drinks. One by one, we empty our bottles and slam them down with euthanism. With Vitkor being the first to finish, he starts popping the tops on our second round and starts handing them out to everyone.
Grabbing my beer, I nudge Tavia and motion for her to slide out. "Let's go play some pool!" Nodding in agreement, she grabs her drink and slides out. Before I can get out of the booth, someone grabs my hand. Looking back, I see it’s Godfrey with a questioning gaze. Leaning over, I shout what he wants to know. "We are playing pool; wanna join?" With a shrug of his shoulders, he lets my hand go and begins to slide out after me.
With all the tables full, we linger around and wait for an opening. One of the biker dudes sees us waiting and calls out to us. "You come give me a kiss, pretty lady, and we will let you have this table." The slur in his voice lets us know he has had more than enough to drink, and his behavior is fueled by the alcohol cruising through his system.
Tavia however, doesn’t care and plays right along with it. "Oh yeah, papi, you just want a kiss, and then we can have the table? I think I can do that for you." The next thing I know, Tavia starts sashaying her way over to the burly, bearded man. She doesn't stop until he is pressed up against the table and her little self is dwarfed by this man. Not batting an eyelash, she runs her pointy nails down the front of his leather vest and whispers something to the beast. Whatever it was, makes him pick her up by the back of her thighs and wrap her legs around his waist. Turning around, he sets her on the table and crashes down on her.
I blink in astonishment that she actually went through with it. Looking over toward Godfrey, I laugh when I see that he has the same expression as I do. Hoots and howls sound around the bar, and when they separate, Tavia lets out another, "Owww owwwwww!" The burly beast lifts her from the table and sets her gently on her feet. As she starts to walk over toward us, he smacks her on the ass hard enough to make her jump and let out a yip. But the way she looks back at him has me losing it.
I start laughing hysterically, and when Tavia makes it back to my side, she playfully slaps me on my shoulder. "Oh my god, Tavia! You should have seen your face when he slapped your ass!"
"Oh, shut up, you!"
Taking a swig of my beer, I calm my hysterics down and look over to Tavia. "Well, thanks for taking one for the team, now let's go play pool."
"You know, I'll take one for the team anytime if he is involved. That was one of the best kisses I ever had, and that's even with him two sheets to the wind."
"Well shit, go get his number then! You are single bitch; you deserve some good dick!" I watch as a blush creeps up caramel skin and turns her cheeks a rosy pink. He may be a burly biker dude, but if the fucker can treat my main squeeze right, I'm all about supporting her.
As the three of us approach the pool table, the guys currently occupying it hand over their sticks and start to help rack the balls. Once everything is set up, we call order, and then break the balls. Sometime during the middle of the game, the rest of the guys come over with a fresh beer for each of us and watch as we play. The time here at the dive bar is filled with nothing but laughs, jokes, and good memories. Hell, I even win the game of pool, which is a complete shocker to me because I never play.
Deciding to continue to play, we rerack the balls, but this time I go up against Frank and Viktor. With Godfrey not on this round, he goes to the bar and fills our buckets back up. As I wait for my turn to go, Tavia approaches me and talks into my ear so I can hear her without her yelling. "I'm going to the bathroom. It's, um, gonna take a few minutes, so don't go barging in there." When her words register, I lean back and give her a high five.
Pulling her back to me, I say, "You better use a condom! Now go get you some, boo!" She pulls back and lets out a laugh. Shaking her head, she heads in the direction the bathroom leaving me with an approving grin. When Frank looks at me quizzically, I just shake my head and wave for him to shoot, because it's his turn. Rolling his eyes, he gets into position and then lines his cue stick up and shoots for a solid ball. Hitting it true, I follow the ball as it bounces off the side and sinks into the right corner pocket.
Letting out a hoot, he quickly lines up to sink another one. If he gets this one in, there will only be the eight ball left. We all steadily watch as he pulls the stick back, and with a loud crack, he hits the ball. Searing pain shoots through my abdomen, and hot liquid soaks my shirt. Placing my hand on my stomach, I fight not to scream in pain, and when I look down, I realize the reason for my pain. I was shot.
Screams erupt, and more gunfire starts exploding all around me. The pool table that we were just playing on is tossed to its side, and I’m dragged behind it. Frank’s frantic face moves in front of me, and I watch as his mouth moves, but nothing comes out. Looking down, I lift my hand and see it covered in my blood. Frank’s gaze follows mine, and when he sees the wound, he rips his shirt off and shoves it on the wound. I scream out in pain from the pressure and tears start to run down my face. This wound is nothing like the graze when Neal shot me; this is worse.
It feels like my insides are melting, and my skin is on fire. The blood that is pumping out of me feels like lava as it gushes out of the opening. Wood shards fly off the pool table, and Frank dunks down to avoid the flying bullets. Reaching to his side, he pulls out his weapon and peeks around the side. I can’t watch as he tries to defend me; instead, I look around me and take in the dead bodies of innocent men and women caught in the crossfire between a fucking Italian meatball of a man and me.
I can’t let anyone else die because of this shit. With all the strength I can muster, I get to my knees and crawl over to where Frank is. I start to reach in his shirt to get his other weapon, but Frank jumps and nearly knocks me down. "What are you doing! Stay down! We got this!" Shaking my head, I glare at him until he yanks out his secondary from his other holster and slams it in my hand.
Gripping the gun, I crawl over the other side of the pool table and look out. I find Godfrey and Joe taking cover behind the metal tables, and as my search continues, I see Viktor and Jaime behind the bar shooting at the people who are dressed in all black with black ski masks. Observing the rest of the people, I notice some of the other patrons have their weapons out and are trying to defend their partners by shooting at the enemies. I try to count how many people are firing at us, but in the midst of me assessing the situation, they spot me peeking around the table and begin to fire in my direction. Falling back, I take cover and h
ope for some fucking miracle.
Taking a chance, I stick the gun around the corner and aim in the general direction of the people shooting at us. I don't stop until I use every bullet in the slide and when the slide stays locked back, I pull it back in and call over to Frank for another magazine. As he slides me one of his spare mags, I hear a shotgun blast.
With the amount of blood that I've lost so far, it doesn't surprise me that my vision starts to get hazy, and it takes me longer than it should to reload the gun. When I finally hear the click of the magazine locking into place, I cock the gun and peer around the corner. With all the gunshots that have gone off, we actually killed some of the ones shooting at us. I start to raise my gun to fire, but as I aim to fire, an explosion sounds followed by a bright white light that knocks me on my ass.
As the ringing clears from my ears, I hear the reason for the explosion. "GET ON THE GROUND! FBI, GET ON THE GROUND! LOWER YOUR WEAPONS! WE WILL SHOOT!" Peeking around the pool table, I spot Jaime with his hands in the air, one holding his gun, the other holding his badge. Thank fuck for him having backup. I don't think we would have survived this. Not with the lack of weapons.
Surprisingly, more gunshots go off, and in rebuttal, the FBI open fire on the cause. With every shot that rings, I fall weaker and weaker. Unable to hold myself up, I lean against the table and drop the gun. Looking down, I see blood seeping out of the completely soaked shirt and covering my hand. Underneath all the blood, a shimmer catches my eye. My rings, the rings promising a life full of happiness. Their glorious sparkle is now a dull shine because the coagulated blood coating them.
Frank slides over to me and pulls me into his arms and starts to scream for help. I hear him plead for mercy and call for any god to save me. His grip on me is punishing, as if he is trying to hold my soul down, preventing it from leaving my body. His tears drop down to my cheeks and mix with mine. I want to comfort him and tell him that everything is okay, but no words leave me. Only whimpers from the pain that is tearing through me. Joe's frantic face flashes in front of me, and as I roll my head to the side, I see him screaming out.
I can’t hear their beautiful voices anymore, and my body is starting to lose its heat. The only thing keeping me warm is the body heat coming from Joe and Frank. I wince as Frank stands from and begins to walk with me in his arms. With each jarring step, more pain radiates through me. I try to brace for each step but I’m finding it impossible to tense my muscles. As he walks, faces pass over me, some being my men and then a scream sounds. Tavia, my best friend, my sister.
Knowing that all my men and my best friend are safe and sound, I feel better. I'm not worried about them being in pain or lying on the cold floor. As I start to relax in Frank’s arms, he looks down at me and starts to shake me. I watch his mouth through clouded vision and see him yelling at me to wake up. But I am awake. He starts to walk faster and then the next thing I know, we are outside. The night sky glistens with each twinkling star, and shining down on me is the moon. The other half to the sun, its opposite, also its perfect match. They couldn't last without each other.
Something soft is beneath me, and Frank backs away, I want to reach out and keep him at my side, but I can't move. Instead, a man in a paramedic uniform steps over me. His eyes are full of sorrow and determination, I watch as he yells to someone, and then he begins to check for a sign of life. With every passing second, he begins to fade, going further and further away. Everything is cold, and I feel like I'm suffocating. Unable to force myself, I stop trying to breathe.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Joe
No, it can’t be. My princess needs to see the light of day. I haven't had the chance to ask her to marry me yet. The red-diamond band feels like a million pounds in my pocket, and all I want to do is jump in the back of the ambulance and slide it on her delicate finger. But with the paramedics back there performing CPR on her, I know I will only be in the way. She will live. I will get the chance to ask her properly, and then my ring will be able to sit on the other side of Frank’s, encircling the diamond in the reddest rubies.
Moisture runs down my face, and with the back of my hand, I wipe it away. As I pull my hand away, a dark smudge catches my eye. Looking closer, I notice that moisture is blood. Well, shit. Sliding my hand over my buzz cut, I find the cause—a shard of glass, likely from the bottles exploding as they get hit by stray bullets. Shrugging it off, I focus back on the man who is saving the woman who has my heart. I count the number of times he compresses her chest to beat her heart for her, and then the times he forces oxygen into her lungs. Thirty and two, on repeat. One that I hope he never stops. Not unless she can do it on her own.
Everything around me is a blur, and all the sounds mix together into a jumbled mess. The only thing I can focus on is her limp hand that is hanging off the side of the stretcher. However, my view is obstructed by the doors of the ambulance. They are slammed shut by the other paramedic, and as soon as they are closed, they zoom away. Absentmindedly, I step in their direction, but a tug on my arm stops me.
Looking back, I see Viktor yelling at me. Shaking my head to clear the fog, I look back toward him. This time, his words are clear. ”Joe, let’s go, man, we need to get to the hospital. She's going to be okay.”
“You don't know that man; she wasn't moving.”
“Yes, I do know! She is so fucking strong, and I know damn well she would never give up so easily. Now come on, we need to go.” With a final tug, I follow after him. Needing to be close, I capture his hand as his slides past and interlock our fingers. He squeezes my hand, and we make our way to the idling SUV.
Opening the back door, I notice only Frank and Godfrey inside. “Wheres Jaime? He needs to be there for her!”
Frank looks over his shoulder to me and nods his head in the direction of the bar. “He was inside with the agents last time I saw. I tried to get his attention, but the fucker blew me off.”
Jerking back in surprise, I shake my head. “Give me two minutes, let me get him! Selene would be pissed if she knew we left him here.” Frank’s lips thin, but he nods his head in agreement. With a final squeeze to Vik’s hand, I take off toward the bar that is overflowing with FBI, cops, and crime scene investigators.
I only make it to the entrance before I'm stopped by a minuscule-looking man with a badge. “You can't come in here; it's a crime scene.”
“I know that, but Jaime is with us, I need to speak to him, please it's urgent.” As much as I want to push past this asshole, I know that will only put me behind bars, and I can't do anything for my princess there.
With a glance over his shoulder, he lets out a sigh and moves to the side. ”Fine, but be fucking quick and stay out of the way.” Nodding in agreement, I push past him and begin scanning for Jaime. But what I see does not remind me of someone who just had their loved one rush off in life-threatening condition. No, Jaime stands with his FBI buddies, laughing.
Without getting in anyone's way, I make my way over toward him. As I approach, one of his buddies spots me and tilts his chin in my direction, causing Jaime to look my way. Acknowledging my presence, he turns back to his friends and tells them to hold on a minute. As he starts closing the distance between us, he crosses his arms and gets his expression to a blank slate. “What’s up, Joe?”
“‘What’s up, Joe?’ That’s its? Selene just got rushed to the fucking hospital, and you’re here laughing it up. Do you even fucking love her like you say? You know what, I don’t fucking care. Are you coming with us to the hospital or not?” I’m seething, and it’s clearly evident in my tone, and my voice was loud enough for his fucking buddies to hear. They look over our way and cover their laughs with fake coughs.
Leaning forward, Jaime clenches his teeth and whispers, “Look, don’t fucking stand there and criticize me for not losing my shit. You don’t know what’s going on on the inside. I’m dying because I know she might not make it, but I can’t fucking leave here and hop in a fucking SUV full of known criminals! I will be
there as soon as I can break away from here!”
Shaking my head, I spin on my heel and head toward the exit. As I start making my way through the debris, I hear Jaime curse. The next thing I know, he grabs my arm and stalls me in my tracks, “Look, I’ll be there okay? I promise.” Yanking my arm out of his grip, I push past the staring agents and hurry over to the waiting SUV.
Pulling open the back door, I slide in and slam it shut. At the click of my seatbelt, we haul ass out of the parking lot. The whole way to the hospital, we don't say a single word. With the amount of anger and adrenaline flying around between us, I know one wrong word will cause an explosion. Instead of telling them what Jaime said, I take an inventory on myself. Besides the shard of glass in my head, I feel fine. However, with each passing streetlight, I notice the blood that is splattered on me and my overall disheveled appearance. But after a quick scan of the rest of the guys, I notice that we all look about the same—tattered and distressed. Survivors of a mass shooting.
“Shit! Did anyone see Tavia? Was she okay?” I can't believe I forgot about that crazy chick. If anything happened to her, I know Selene will flip her shit.
With a grunt, Frank says, “I gave Greg our address and told him to take her home. She didn't have anything wrong with her except for being in a panic attack.”
“Who’s Greg?” Viktor and I question at the same time. Well, at least I’m not the only one who is lost.
Frank looks in the rearview mirror and flicks his gaze to both of us and raises his brows. “That biker she was hanging all over. He’s the owner of the gun range I took Selene to. He's good people.
“Ah, well if you trust him to take care of her that's fine with me. If anything happens, I’m blaming it on you. There's no way I'm going to be the one being yelled at by Selene.” Even with the severity of the situation, I can't help but laugh at the thought of Selene going toe to toe with Frank. Her perfect slender self against a bulky bodyguard who takes no shit. The others must have envisioned the same thing as me because they all join me in the laughter.
