Blood Bound

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Blood Bound Page 16

by Sasha Leone

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I want to ignore it, but I know I can’t. I carefully step forward, and when Nia doesn’t flinch away, I put my hands on her shoulders and I try to soothe her. “There’s no running from this,” I tell her. My heart is heavy but I know it’s the truth. “A life on the run is no life at all. Especially not for a... well, for a family.”

  Nia’s shoulders slink at my words. She’s realizing that there’s no talking me out of this, but she still doesn’t seem to understand how necessary it all is. It’s not her fault, and I’m glad for it. She doesn’t know how the underworld works because she’s never been exposed to, and if I can end this all tonight, then maybe she’ll never have to be.

  I try to ease her worries. “Nia. Listen. You two will be taken care of no matter what. Whether I don’t come back, or even if you just don’t want me back. It’ll all be sorted out.”

  “What does that mean?” she asks. I can tell she’s not happy, but she’s too fed up to spit anymore venom at me.

  “It means you can go back to nursing school. It means you can make a life for yourself. It means that, one way or another, I’m going to make sure that the people who know about our connection never see the light of day again... But I can only do that by leaving you right now.”

  Nia sighs. “You know, we never even exchanged numbers.” She’s stopped shivering and there’s a worrisome flatness to her voice. “You had my phone for a whole night, and as much as you say you like me, you never even thought to put your number into my phone.”

  “I had no intention of ever invading your privacy,” I tell her.

  She snorts. “That’s some kind of lie. You respect my privacy enough to not unlock my phone and put your number in, but not enough to find out my details and pay off my nursing school debt?”

  Oh shit. She knows... and it doesn’t seem to be helping my case at all.

  “What? You think I’m stupid?” Nia starts again. “Sure, it took me a little while longer than I’m proud of to finally figure it out for myself, but I’d missed a call from the school about my debt the morning you came to Chelly’s and returned it to me. Were you thinking of my privacy when you got the information you needed on me to pay off my debt?”

  She’s got me there. I’d had Finn do some snooping. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

  Nia rolls her eyes. “A lot of good your nice gestures do me. First, you walk me home and I get shot at; then, you give me a silver bracelet that somehow invites those greaseball Russians into my apartment. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop with your ‘generosity’ towards my debt. I suspect it will be just as violent as the others.”

  I furrow my brows in confusion. Alonzo’s silver bracelet? “What do you mean?” I ask, before clarifying. “About the bracelet and the Russians?”

  Nia shivers and brushes her arms with her own hands. “When they showed up at my apartment, they had the bracelet. They... They asked me how I got it.”

  “How did they get it?” I ask, perplexed.

  Nia hangs her head. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was ashamed. But of what?

  “Nia,” I prod.

  “I pawned off the bracelet, just like you said.” Her eyes are fixed on the floor. “The pawn shop I hocked it at must have been connected to the Russian mafia or whatever, because the guy somehow recognized the bracelet and took the information from my debit card to find me.”

  My stomach drops as it all clicks together.

  Fuck me.

  The Russians only found out about Nia because of my carelessness.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket again. Finn’s probably worried I’ve already been killed. I can’t ignore him any longer. I can’t ignore my fate any longer.

  “Nia,” I pinch her soft chin and lead her gaze back up to my face. She doesn’t pull away, but her eyes are cold and empty of passion. “I’m sorry, But I need to go. It’s the only way out. For you, for me,” I look down at her stomach. “For the three of us.”

  I close my eyes and kiss her.

  She doesn’t kiss me back.

  I pull away, feeling emptier than ever.

  Her eyes twinkle ever so slightly as I take one last long look. There’s nothing left to say as I turn myself away and head to the door. She doesn’t call after me, and I leave without knowing if I’ll ever see her again.

  24

  Ronan

  “I’m so stupid.”

  “Aw, just compared to me, buddy.” Finn jokes over my earpiece, but I’m in no mood.

  “If I hadn’t been so drunk with lust and love that night, I would have never given Nia Alonzo’s bracelet—even if I hadn’t made the connection yet.”

  “What connection?”

  “Isn’t it obvious!?” I yell, more at myself than at Finn.

  “Obviously not.”

  I take a deep breath and take a hard, right turn back onto Main street. The wheels of my range rover squeal and I just want to scream. It was all happening right under my nose the whole time.

  “Santino was being protected by the Russians... or, rather, he was being protected by Semyon and his goons. That’s why they recognized Alonzo’s silver bracelet. Either Santino or Semyon must have given Alonzo the jewelry to pawn off, so that he’d have enough cash flow to hideout until this all blew over. But they underestimated Alonzo’s stupidity; he stuck around long enough for me to get to him first. But the Russians also knew that I’d killed Alonzo and taken the bracelet. So, they knew that finding the bracelet could lead them to me. That’s how they got to Nia. She brought the evidence of our connection right to their doorstep.”

  Fuck me.

  Finn pauses at that information. “... Why was Semyon protecting Santino, though?” he finally asks.

  I can understand the confusion. The Volkov Bratva had made it a condition of the peace agreement with the Barone family that Santino be brought to justice. Why would one of them then choose to hide and protect the rat from justice?

  “... Because Semyon wanted war,” I growl. “He wanted chaos. He wanted a chance to rise up the ladder and become king of the Volkov Bratva.”

  “So, he hid Santino and tried to sabotage the merger?” Finn’s finally starting to get it.

  I pick the baton back up. “And then, when he saw me at the meeting, he knew that he had been gifted a second chance. God damn. He had been so in his own head after he’d failed to protect Santino that he hadn’t even been paying attention when Gianni pointed me out as the killer. It was by pure chance that our eyes met later. I could shoot myself for being so ignorant. It was almost like he could feel my eyes on him, and that’s the only thing that got him to look up. If he hadn’t seen me, none of this would have ever happened. If I’d been smarter, I could have protected everything.”

  I hit my steering wheel with an open palm and slow down as I turn onto a side street. “I don’t know if Semyon was celebrating prematurely, or just being extra careful around his precious cargo that night when he ran into me and Nia, but it was just bad luck that we so happened to stumble into the exact area where he was hiding Santino, just outside of Chinatown. Thank god I was walking Nia home, though—who knows what Semyon might have done if she was alone.”

  “He might have just left her alone,” Finn says.

  He’s trying to reassure me, but I shudder at the thought of how wrong things could have gone. Still, if I can just get through tonight, then this whole mess might have been a blessing in disguise.

  “Wait,” Finn remarks, “Why the hell was Santino getting his own food then? The witnesses I interviewed were the only reason we ended up finding him at all.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Semyon seems like enough of a stupid asshole to make the person he’s supposed to be protecting get his own food. We should just be glad.”

  “Semyon can’t be completely stupid, though,” Finn reminds me. “Santino was hiding out with the Triad first. If we’d gotten him coming out of Chinatown right away, he’d never have had the opportunity—b
ut Semyon did think quickly when we missed him. The conniving son-of-a-bitch. Let’s give him some credit.”

  “Semyon didn’t bother protecting Alonzo, though” I add. “Seems like Semyon’s just smart enough to cause a big mess, but also just stupid enough to be killed because of it,” I can only hope.

  “Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch,” Finn chuckles. “The bastard’s still alive.”

  “You’re quickly becoming a wise old cop, huh?” I chuckle back. As much as I hate myself for not connecting the dots earlier, it still feels good to have the why figured out. Now, it’s just up to me to write the ending.

  I plan on writing it in Volkov and Barone blood.

  “Is Biff ready?” I ask Finn, as I slow to an idle just around the corner of the street my loft is on. I already know it’s going to be surrounded—but that’s what Biff’s for.

  “He’s been cooked just perfectly, if I do say so myself,” Finn remarks.

  Good. I can only hope our little ruse works. “Let’s do it, then.”

  Finn hangs up and I get out of my car. There’s a fire escape to my right, and I climb up it until I have a good view of the street in front of my loft.

  Sure enough, I can spot a bevy of stakeout cars lining the sidewalk. I can’t tell whether they’re Russians or Italians, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m sure my building’s completely surrounded on all sides, with the different families taking up either side of the building. It almost warms my heart to know that, even in all this chaos, two enemies can come together to try and kill me.

  Try to kill me, I think, smiling at the excitement in the air. The thrill of it all doesn’t last long, though. I feel a stone forming in my gut as I think of Nia... and what’s in her belly.

  A family. I could actually have my own family. My own blood. My excitement quickly bubbles over into anxiousness. I’ve never shied away from a fight before, but now there’s so much more on the line than I ever thought possible.

  Still, I know what needs to be done. I need to wipe out those who threaten my happy future, and I only know one way.

  My feet tap against the metal railings of the fire escape as I intently watch the cars below. If the Biff plan works, then they should be racing away from their watch within the hour.

  Finn has already burned Biff’s body up just enough to keep his familiar features discernible, while also making it hard to point out any key differences. Next, he’s going to drop the body off on the intersection of two specific beats: one where cops who’ve been bought by the Russians patrol, and one where cops who’ve been bought by the Italians patrol. Every crooked cop in this city has got to have my face burned into their memory by now. There’s probably a reward on my head that’s worth more than what they’ll make in a lifetime. If we’re lucky, the cops will recognize the significance of Biff’s charred corpse, and quickly call in the discovery to their overlords.

  Ronan Reid is dead, they’ll say. And we have his body.

  But, while everybody is rushing to confirm that it’s me, I’ll be sneaking into my loft, and heading right up to the armory. From there, I’ll get set up.

  It won’t take long for an expert to smack everyone on the backside of the head and tell them that Biff is no Ronan. The goons will come racing back to my loft, and I’ll be waiting to ambush them from my fortified tower...

  It only takes a little under two hours before I can see that our plan is working. A dozen or so cars all suddenly rev alive at the same time and screech out into the night. I watch with conflicted glee.

  It’s just one last thing, I tell myself. Then it’s you and Nia forever.

  ... If she’ll have me back.

  I shake that thought from my head. She has to. I couldn’t have made it any more clear that we didn’t have any other option.

  When the last cars have disappeared from view, I climb back down the fire escape.

  I finally have my opening, and I can’t fuck it up.

  I pound my fist against a loose brick and a shelf filled with assault rifles pops out of the wall. It’s good to be home, but I don’t have time to revel in my return. I feed my weapons with ammo and set them up at vantage points around the bullet proof windows on my top floor. I pop the frames up just enough to let me shoot through and I line up grenades and other explosives along the floor.

  If I wasn’t so worried about seeing Nia again, I might be having the time of my life. This could be a true warrior’s ending, but I’m not looking for that anymore. I’m looking for a new beginning, one with a family, one with Nia.

  I can only think about her and what’s bubbling up inside of her belly as I dig deep into my arsenal. There are so many memories in this armory. Weapons from my first turf war all the way up to my first hit-job come out of the closet for the first time in years. It’s bittersweet. I know, one way or another, this will be the last time I use them. Still, I can’t help but smile when I come across a certain ancient artifact of mine that I had thought to be long lost.

  The bazooka. A high-powered rocket launcher that can tear through armies.

  It shines like a holy grail in its dusty compartment. Ah, old friend. How I’ve missed you.

  It just might be enough to tilt this whole thing in my favor.

  The two major crime families are about to send all of what’s left of their armies at me, but they’ve been so devastated by the war that, with a few good shots, I just might be able to blow up everything for good.

  I dust off my old weapons and fill them with firepower. I’m just about done getting ready when I hear the screeching sound of returning cars.

  It’s time.

  I set up in my first position, crouched beside the light switch that controls the spot lights on top of my building. I had them installed years ago for shits and giggles, but it looks like they might actually come in handy now.

  I don’t want to start this showdown in the light, though. Darkness, for all of its faults, has often been good to me at times like this. So, I ask one last favor of it.

  My starting weapon of choice is a long-barreled sniper with a night vision iron sight. I gaze through the little peephole as the street below fills up with cars and armed men. A battering ram even appears, but before it can get close to my door, I start shooting out the streetlights.

  One by one, the lights go off and the street is bathed in sweet darkness. It’s the official start to this shindig—there’s no hiding now. Everyone in the city is going to know I’m here.

  I scan the street below for my first target. There are two men I particularly want to end tonight, and either one will do just fine for my first kill.

  Where are you bastards?

  It doesn’t take long for me to find one of the faces I’m looking for.

  The fool.

  Semyon Volkov is limping between cars for cover. The side of his face is twisted and burnt, and I can’t help but smile. The brat finally looks like the monster he truly is. It makes me happy to see that his leg still hasn’t fully recovered from the bullet I put in it, and I’m delighted that at least half of his face got caught in the explosion at Gianni’s office.

  I wonder if he’s consistently in pain? God, I hope so. He doesn’t deserve any better. I almost don’t want to shoot him. Death would be too easy of a way out for him. Maybe I should aim for his spine?

  Suddenly, I think of Nia and the gift she has brewing in her belly.

  I’m not risking anything tonight, I tell myself. This isn’t for fun anymore. I’m fighting for three people now; I’m fighting for my own family.

  And with that thought, I take aim at Semyon’s twisted little face and pull the trigger.

  His head explodes like an overripe watermelon, scattering his brain-matter across the street.

  That’s for Nia, you fucking son-of-a-bitch!

  There’s no time to admire my artwork, though, because my loft is immediately drenched in a responding hail of bullets. I duck behind my fortified wall and crawl to the window that looks over the
opposite street. If the Russians are on one side, then the Italians should be on the other.

  Sure enough, I spot a cast of familiar looking characters through my night-vision iron sight. I’m only really looking for one though, and there’s no sign of him yet. The Barone’s haven’t started shooting either, so I decide to leave them for the time being and crawl back over to the Russian side of my war.

  The pitter-patter of lead against my bullet-proof windows sounds like rain. It’d almost be relaxing if I wasn’t so hopped up on adrenaline.

  I peak through my open slice of window and let my own storm of bullets rain down upon those below. There’s lots of shouting, but no one seems to know exactly where I am. The battering ram has been dropped in the middle of the street, and no one’s coming out from behind the cover of their cars to fetch it. It’s pure chaos.

  Windows shatter on my lower floors and I’m glad that no one else is home. This place needs a renovation anyways. I’m going to need to child proof it, right?

  My sniper runs out of bullets and I sink back down to the floor to reload. I can hear orders being shouted from the Italian side of my building now, and I decide to go investigate.

  It looks like the Barone’s have brought every last soldier out to this fight, too. I guess I did kill their godfather, after all.

  He used to be your godfather, too...

  But I have my own family to fight for now.

  I search my line of vision for a specific target, but there’s still no sign of him.

  God damnit, you coward, where the hell are you!?

  I know I just need to get rid of the remaining remnants of leadership before I can truly start to wipe out the soldiers. I’m hoping that if I can just keep from firing on the Barone’s until the man that I’m looking for arrives, then they won’t be able to keep him safe.

  Suddenly, a black SUV screeches from around the corner. I hold my breath and watch as it pulls up right into the midst of the Italian scrum.

  My finger caresses the trigger on my gun. Come on, you big lug. Show your face!

 

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