Hammered: A Shadows of Chicago Novel

by Rose Hudson

  “Before you start with your bullshit, I’ve got some terms to discuss.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “What more could you possibly want? You’ve proved your point.”

  “Well, these are more of a demand really. Those damn Russians play hard ball.” I’m so fucking sick of hearing about the ‘Russians’ and not knowing exactly what the hell his investment in them is. Should I care? Would that just be more for me to worry about losing my ass over?

  “Why do they even give two shits about the underground?”

  “Corruption is a fickle thing. You can’t just be out in the center of the room with your dick hanging out, you gotta draw the sluts to the coat closet. You know what I mean?” Slimy motherfucker. “So, we must infiltrate the shadows; drug cartel, human trafficking, and of course, fighting. We control those less than desirable areas of financial gain to accomplish what we want in the real, legal world.”

  “What’s in this for you?”

  “Russia makes big money off America and I’ve got a campaign to fund.”

  “And you expect me to fight.” It’s not a question because I know the answer.

  “Oh, you’ll fight. I owe them a few favors and they need to get a few of their fighters in the spotlight.”

  “So, I’ll beat this guy’s ass and we all get what we want.”

  “See, now that’s not going to work for them.” His expression tells me all I need to know and I sit up straighter, the two men standing at a distance come several steps closer.

  “No fucking way. I don’t bow out. Ever. And I need the money.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything other than give us a good fight that ends with his arm up in victory. You can’t tell me you’ve never lost?”

  “Never.”

  “Is that right?” He scoffs, eyeing me in surprise. “Well, I guess there is a first time for everything.” He stands from his chair, ending the conversation on his terms as I’m sure he does most things in his life.

  “Cameron.” I stand, and he turns. “You better hope that motherfucker has a life insurance policy because you’ll be sending your regards back to the homeland along with his body when it’s all over with.” I take a step toward him, a microscopic slip of his egotistical armor slips when I’m mere inches from his face. “And you better tow the line. Or else they’ll be building a pine box for two.” His laugh is maniacal. He slaps my shoulder and turns to leave, buttoning his suit jacket and turning to the men at his side.

  “I’ll see if we can’t make a deal with the winning purse. Let’s go, boys. Before Mr. Keeling drops the hammer on us.” The three of them laugh as they walk to the town car parked at the curb. “See you in a few weeks.” He smirks before sliding into the back seat and closing the door behind him.

  In doing his research, he must’ve not come across anything indicating just how bad I hate being backed into a corner. I have patience for a lot of things, but being pushed around and forced to deal with bullshit that’s out of my control isn’t on the list.

  But what choice do I have here?

  No matter how good of an attorney Stellan Norberg is, his skill is nothing compared to the pull and influence I know a man like Joseph Cameron has. And he knows I know that now.

  LIAM ASTON ERIKSSON WAS BORN at eleven-twenty-three on Sunday, after hours of rain and waiting, tears and worry.

  Because of the risk and unknown of the situation, doctors wouldn’t let us in. So, Liz and Aston and I sat in the waiting room just outside the operation wing of the labor and delivery unit. Such skill and attention was paid by the staff of the hospital and I told them each in the best way I knew how.

  I thought to myself, what would Madi do if she were here? But she was there and although it appeared to be just her body doing the work, I know she was there in soul and spirit, too.

  She did such an amazing job. Words fail to captivate the beauty of it.

  A tear ran down her cheek when Liam was placed on her chest. That’s when I really knew she was with us.

  “You’re stunning. He’s stunning,” I whispered. Her hands flexed at her sides like she wanted to wrap them around her son. I folded them over his little body, helping her hold her baby. “Thank you for giving me this gift, sister.” The doctors have been telling us for months that just because her eyes are closed, doesn’t mean she can’t hear us. So especially today, I talk to her, I tell her everything in hopes that memories will take hold and one day she will remember this day.

  It was a gift. Something that will remain with me until I take my last breath.

  I felt like God himself stood at her bedside. Like he placed his hand on my shoulder and removed all worry from my heart. But when she smiled, her limp arms folded over this angel, I knew he was giving her back to us.

  I may not have an answer as to when, but I know she is.

  The hospital offered to keep Liam there with Madison for longer than his forty-eight-hour observation, but I decided it was time for us to venture home. As much as I want to sit there and stare at her, waiting for her to wake up and see her son, I’ve learned that sitting and staring at her doesn’t change anything. This is something only her body can change.

  “So, you’ve got everything you need?” I nod. “Diapers?” I nod. “Bottle and formula?” I nod. Liz opens her mouth to say something else.

  “Liz, will you let her put him in the car for God’s sake?” Aston says from the driver’s seat. I laugh.

  “Promise. I double checked,” I say, pulling her in for a hug. “Call me with any news over the next couple of days. I’ll bring him back to visit her this weekend.” I don’t miss the brief flinch at the mention of visiting Madison.

  “Okay. When did you say Kora and Stellan will be back?” Of course, Madi would go into labor during the first trip Mom and Dad have taken in almost two years.

  “Stellan texted while you were headed down. Said they were coming back a day early,” Aston answers. I scoot in the back seat next to Liam’s car seat.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  I nod and she shuts the door.

  This look, one I couldn’t describe if I had every word in the English language, stayed on Liz’s face all day. I couldn’t help but turn the tables and imagine my mother in her position. How she would feel so torn in a vicious war with herself and all that was happening.

  I knew that Liz and Aston had some deep-seeded issues with all of this, but I didn’t realize how bad until Liz declined holding the baby. It’s not that I judge her, it’s that I hurt for her because I know the inevitable feelings of guilt and regret that she will soon be faced with. When it’s all said and done, this baby is as much Madison as he is Damon. As far as we know, Damon didn’t rape her, so we can only assume that this child was created from a place of something akin to love, or lust at the very least.

  Unlike them, I was around her weekly before that night because we lived one floor apart from one another. Usually more like every other day when she wasn’t going through a stage of her staying with him for days without coming home. She never seemed scared or like she was being stalked, raped or held captive or anything else other than a normal dating relationship was going on.

  Although I can’t explain it, over those last couple of weeks, I noticed a slight dimming of her light. She still smiled and joked and was her regular self on most accounts, but there was something I couldn’t put my finger on, and every time I would ask her if she needed to talk, if something was bothering her, she would put on a smile to ease my worries.

  I’ve spent the last six months going over and over everything with a fine-tooth comb, but either she had changed and became an excellent actress, or I was just being me and worrying about nothing.

  All I can do is hope that they make peace with this soon because seeing my family torn apart like this is almost as unbearable as seeing Madison lifeless in that bed.

  I never got around to painting the walls of the nursery. I could blame it on lack of time in my
schedule, but the honest part of me knows better. Painting those walls felt like I was making this nursery permanent, like I was surrendering to the possibility that Liam would come here and never leave—that Madi would never get the chance to raise him.

  But placing him in the crib for the first time, surrounded by the pale green and yellow bumper and soft ivory bedding, I realize this space is complete and now belongs to him regardless. My entire apartment feels different, and all that’s changed is his presence here. How could it feel like something was missing before when it was never meant to be?

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I went through and checked the windows.” I look up from Liam to Aston standing in the hallway outside the nursery, almost as if he’s afraid to come closer. I long to see him as the grandfather I know he can be, and I hurt for the man that he feels he must be right now.

  “Good,” I simply state, unsure what to say, imagining that this is what he’d do if this were Madison instead of me. I take the handheld monitor from the crib-side table and move for the doorway, Aston and I returning to the main room together.

  “Look, Lydia. I know we’ve managed to say enough without saying too much, and I know you’ve been forced to solve many a problem throughout this that you shouldn’t have been burdened with.” I turn and look at him, hands in his pockets, eyes tracing the lines of the hardwood beneath his feet. He looks up at me. “You will never know how sorry I am for not being strong enough.” I go to speak, but he stops me. “No, now I need to say this. It should have been said long ago.” He gestures for me to sit on the couch, so I do, but he doesn’t follow. “I’m more than ashamed to admit that I’ve allowed myself to reason that you could somehow handle this more than Liz or I could. I’ve always seen a strength and determination in you, but never to the extent that you’ve personified as of late. I feel like instead of being the man I should be, I’ve exploited your strength and forced you to stay strong while the rest of us have fallen apart.” Finally, he comes to sit beside me on the couch, taking my hand in his. “In all my years as an attorney, I’ve witnessed strength in all capacities, but never like the exemplary level in which you’ve displayed. As sorry as I am that I’m the one whose forced you to play that role, I can’t say that I’ve ever been so proud of someone. I love you like you’re my own.” A tear spills down his cheek. The sight shatters me almost as much as his words. I drop his hand and pull him to me, hugging him.

  “You and Liz and Madison—” I pull back to look at him. “And now Liam. You’re my family. I didn’t do this because of any weakness you may feel, I did this because I love each one of you more than you know. My life wouldn’t be complete without you guys in it, and if I’m strong, it’s only because I’ve had the greatest examples of what that is.” He closes his eyes briefly, wiping a hand down his face with one hand and pulling out his wallet with the other.

  “This is for you.” He hands me a credit card, my name printed across the front. “It’s linked to an account that I’ve set up for Liam’s expenses and anything else you may need. Liz has ordered a few things that she wanted you to have and they should be delivered this next week.” I nod and he stands, placing his wallet back in his suit pocket. “I know Stellan and you have already discussed your absence in the office, but I’d like to extend by saying this. I know you’ll be caring for our grandson, but I’d like you to take this time to also consider what you need moving forward. I have no doubts about your ability to be an outstanding attorney, but I wouldn’t be disappointed if your position at the office has to be filled permanently.” His pointed look is knowing, filled with his desire for my success, words letting me know that I don’t have to take the path selected by anyone other than myself. I stand and follow as he walks toward the door.

  “I’ll be by the hospital tomorrow,” I say.

  “Liz and I will be there. You just take a few days to get settled, and we’ll call if we learn anything new.” He kisses my cheek, stepping out into the hall. “Call if you need anything.” I nod and wave, closing the door and locking it behind me.

  I walk to the kitchen and double-check that I have everything ready for the night by looking over the checklist I’ve prepared and stuck to the front of the fridge. After shedding my clothes and opting for sleep shorts and a tee, I set the alarm and make myself comfortable on the couch, checking the monitor every five minutes to make sure it’s working.

  After four futile attempts at reading a book, and three different positions on the couch, I give up and ease down the hall and into the nursery. I lean over the side of the crib, getting as close as I can without waking him until I hear tiny inhales and exhales from his little nose.

  Everything I’ve done today has been accompanied by the knowledge that it should be Madison in my place. She should be standing here looking at this miracle. She should be hearing his little sounds and smelling his wonderful smell. If I allow it, the guilt overcomes the pride that I feel being able to do this for her. She should be here with him. He needs to feel her, smell her, feel her arms around him. A tear snakes down my cheek and I move to wipe it away quickly.

  After everything we’ve been through, guilt will not win these moments.

  I step to the closet and ease the door open, pulling the gift box down from the top shelf. Removing the lid, I take the small teddy bear in my hand and bring it to my nose. No matter the number of hands it’s passed through, or how her absence now outnumbers the days in which she’s held it, she is ever present here.

  This bear was first mine and then Madison’s. When she would spend the night at my house growing up, she’d always sleep with it. So, when she had her tonsils removed in first grade, I brought it to her in the hospital.

  I found it in her memory box one of the two times I’ve visited her apartment downstairs since the attack. Liz wanted her to be in her own clothes instead of lying there in a hospital gown, but couldn’t bring herself to go there. So, I went. I found the box among her things and discovered the bear among a few other keepsakes she’d held on to. After staring at it for months, the thought of her child having it seemed the most logical and positive.

  The second and last time I stepped foot in her apartment, I collected a t-shirt of hers, one that she wore often and still smelled of her when I brought it to my nose. Using the few sewing skills I’d picked up during my years in school, I cut the shirt down and fashioned it to fit the bear.

  This child already has more than many other children ever have, but I knew the one priceless thing I could give him would be a piece of his mother to carry with him.

  Remembering all the warnings of putting toys and blankets in cribs with babies, I opt to place the bear in the corner of the crib rather than at his side. Instead of attempting to rest on the couch or in my bed, I sit in the rocking chair in the corner, propping my feet on the ottoman and closing my eyes with a smile on my face.

  IT’S BEEN DAYS SINCE I’VE seen or heard from Lydia. I only meant to give us both a little space after what went down, but instead, I’ve managed to eliminate the one thing I look forward to. Even Bruno’s noticed her absence when we go for a run.

  I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Lydia in many forms; a goddess in an evening gown, an edgy Bloodfeather fan, an athletic runner, a buttoned-up law firm secretary. No matter what she wears or where she’s at, she always seems just out of reach for me.

  That doesn’t change when she opens her apartment door, hair piled atop her head, a shirt so big you can barely see the shorts poking out below the hem. She’s still the same goddess she always is, but this time she looks real. Not just some unobtainable fantasy, a real woman in a real world that I want to be in.

  “Stone.” Her eyes round when she says my name. “I, uh. What are you doing here? Did you call? I have been horrible at answering my phone lately. Can’t seem to find it or my apartment keys half the time. It’s like my brain is being taken over, I swear.” She’s nervous, and for what reason, I can’t say. But I suppress a smile and inch toward the doorfr
ame.

  “Bruno’s been bugging me to checking on you. Seems I’m not his favorite jogging buddy.”

  “I haven’t even left my apartment in the last two days.” She bends to pet him and his tail slaps my leg hard. “So, don’t take it personally.” She stands, hands by her side and eyes narrowed in on me in contemplation? Remorse? “And after the other night, I wasn’t sure when I’d see you next.”

  I should say something, acknowledge this thing and whatever it’s morphing into. But when I look at her, I don’t think she’s ready.

  “When Diane called me from the office about some papers, and I hadn’t seen you running, just figured I should come by and make sure you were still alive. Are you sick?” My question causes me to examine her more closely, seeing the dark circles under her eyes. She looks over her shoulder briefly and I feel like I’m imposing.

  I won’t lie and say a part of me doesn’t wonder if it’s another guy, maybe even another member of the Elite. Maybe I’m not the only one she gave her card to that night and maybe I’ve been an idiot for thinking that I could ever convince her that I’m one of the good guys. Maybe she got tired of our constant back and forth and decided to call up someone who doesn’t play these fucking games. Someone simpler.

  “I’m a wreck, the apartment’s a wreck, but I guess now’s a good a time as any. You should come in.” I look up at her from the spot I’ve been burning through the floor. She moves to the side, giving me room to slide past her.

  Okay, so this woman is making me lose my mind.

  Lydia walks down the hall and I stand there confused for a second when a sound coming from the coffee table catches my attention. Blue and green lights blink across the front of a white monitor, and I can hear commotion until Lydia comes walking back toward me, carrying a yellow bundle in her arms.

  “Meet Liam.”

  I’m usually in control of what I feel, but for a split second, all I can do is stare at Lydia holding this baby. If I thought she was beautiful before, I didn’t know what I was talking about.