Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5)

by Bianca Sommerland

  “Where are you?”

  “My bar. I think I just killed two people.”

  “Jesus Christ! Stay there!” Hamilton shouted. He went quiet for about a minute, then sounded a bit calmer. “What’s the man’s name? If he’s on the road—”

  “Cops are coming. He probably took off.”

  “His. Name. Ford.”

  “Patrick Tinibu.” Ford took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m going to kill my father now.”

  “I didn’t hear that. And you are staying right there.” Hamilton sounded like he was moving. There was the growl of a motor. Then another sharp command. “You hear me? Stay where you are. I’ll come find you.”

  “Okay.” Ford had no intention of following Hamilton’s orders. He stared blindly down the alley after Hamilton hung up, closed his eyes, then turned. There were so many lights flashing. Sirens wailing. But none of it pierced the icy shell surrounding the frozen remains of the good man he’d wanted to be. He walked to the back door of the bar, grateful that Silver was too distracted by Oriana struggling with Sloan to get to Max to notice him. Inside his bar, he went straight to the lockbox under the counter. Put in the combination. Took out his gun. Loaded it.

  A click behind him had him standing and turning with his gun between his fists.

  Laura glared at him, her own gun out and pointed steadily at his head. “Put it down, Ford.”

  “I can’t.” And he really couldn’t. But he had to make her understand so she didn’t try to stop him. “Three people are dead because of me.”

  “Three people? Ford, you’re in shock. You’re hurt. Hamilton called me since I was already on my way here to see Chicklet. He told you to stay put. You really don’t want to piss him off.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Kingsley isn’t here. I can’t kill him here.”

  “No, you can’t. And you’re not going to.” Laura’s finger hovered over the trigger. “Don’t make me shoot you, Ford. I like Akira. I think Cort is a good guy, in a weird way. They’ll be upset if I hurt you.”

  “You’ll have to kill me to stop me.” Ford took a step forward, ready to walk past her. She blocked him with an easy side step, her gun still pointed at him. “Laura, I don’t want to—”

  “No. You won’t shoot me. I’d have pulled the trigger already if I didn’t believe that.” She took a slow inhale, her gaze level. “Listen to me. This is over for you. One way or another, it’s over. Lay the gun on the counter and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You will.” She sucked her teeth as her phone buzzed, but didn’t so much as twitch. “That’s probably Hamilton. If you put the gun down, I’ll answer and let you know what’s going on.”

  “There’s only one way to stop Kingsley. I have to do it.” Ford ground his teeth as Laura took a step forward. His hands were shaking. So fucking cold. He put the safety on his gun and put it on the counter. Fuck, he wouldn’t risk anyone else’s life because he’d fucked up. But he would pick up that gun again once he got her out of here. “Either arrest me, or let me go. You know what Kingsley did. He killed Tim, Laura. Don’t you want him dead?”

  Laura’s lips parted. For the first time, her solid stand wavered. But then she shook her head and kept the gun on him one-handed as she answered her phone. “Yeah?” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You have him? And he’s ready to talk? Already?” She let out a tight laugh. “That’s fucking dirty. I love it!” She chatted for a bit, all smiles, then hung up and inclined her head. “They’ve got Tinibu and he’s squealing. He ignored being read his rights when one of the cops mentioned a murder charge. He’s begging to testify against Kingsley. Hamilton thinks they’ll have a warrant within the next few hours.”

  Ford fisted his hands at his sides. Again. Too easy. This couldn’t be real.

  “Let me go.” Ford brought his hand to his face, and his stomach heaved as he saw the dried blood covering it. Whose blood? Who else had he hurt? His head spun and his knees almost gave out, but he leaned heavily on the bar to stay on his feet. “It needs to be over. I can do that. I have to!”

  “Who else did you kill, Ford? Hamilton told me you think you killed someone, but the men who attacked you are alive.”

  “Cam. Max. I might as well have slit their throats. It would have been less painful.” His voice hitched. He’d ruined his sister’s life. Taken her husband from her. And Cam . . .

  “They’re both stable. On the way to the hospital,” she said, all matter-of-fact. “And it’s not your fault that they got hurt.”

  “It’s all on me. You’re a fool if you believe otherwise.”

  “Ford, you need a doctor. Come with me and—”

  “No.”

  “Fine.” Laura gestured with her gun for him to sit. “Then I’m calling someone you’ll listen to.”

  He sat, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out who she’d called. But the second he moved to stand, Laura glanced pointedly down at her gun.

  “He’s in bad shape, but I’m not sure I can get him to go to the hospital. You wanna come get him?” Laura smiled. “Oh, he’s not going anywhere. Got a bullet with his name on it—yes, I love you too, Akira.”

  “You can’t let her come here! It’s not safe!” Ford shot off the chair and snarled as a hand settled on his shoulder. He cast a killing glare over his shoulder, stiffening as Sebastian arched a brow at him while holding him in place. “Where’s Jami?”

  “With Luke and her father. She insisted I come see to it that you were not ‘doing anything stupid.’ I tend to indulge her, but she had good reason to worry.” Sebastian tightened his grip when Ford tried to stand again, then reached out to slide Ford’s gun across the counter to Laura. “I could hate you for what you put Jami through. But I do not blame you. The man who tried to hurt her is dead. The one who sent him will pay.”

  “Only if you let me go!” What didn’t they understand? The law couldn’t bring Kingsley down. He would find a way out. Ford refused to let that happen.

  “I disagree. I have to believe he will spend his life in jail. Lose all he has. Suffer for a very long time.” Sebastian’s jaw hardened. “If you convince me otherwise, you can count on my being by your side, hunting him down like the rabid dog he is. A bullet for Tim. A bullet for Jami. That’s all I ask.”

  Good. Very good. Maybe Sebastian did understand. Ford put his hand over the one Sebastian had on his shoulder. “It’s a deal.”

  “Fuck, you two do know I can’t be hearing this shit?” She scowled at Sebastian. “You’re not helping.”

  Sebastian’s tone took on an edge Ford had heard him use with Luke and Jami at the club. His eyes were dark. Deadly. “Arrest us both then, pet. Because if justice is not served . . .” His accent thickened as he spoke, and he seemed to struggle to find the right words. “I will seek it out. For the woman I love, there is nothing I would not do.”

  “Jami is fine!”

  “No, she isn’t. Kingsley’s actions nearly broke her. I work to put the pieces together.”

  “You’re doing a damn good job.” Laura bit her bottom lip, almost as though arguing with Sebastian was more than she could take. “Please. I need both of you to sit down and relax. This is my job. You can’t . . . please don’t talk to me like that, Sebastian.”

  Ford hadn’t realized how long the conversation had been going on. Before he knew it, Hamilton was in the empty bar, speaking softly to Laura and asking her to wait outside. The shock came when he looked at Ford and laughed.

  “It’s over. What don’t you get?”

  Ford frowned. “Kingsley needs to die.”

  “No. He needs to pay. And he will.” Hamilton glanced over at Sebastian, then moved closer to Ford. “The info you gave me about the assistant was gold. I won’t be sleeping tonight. I need to be there when Kingsley is hauled in. Which he will be unless he runs.”

  No, Cort’s the one who runs. And hopefully he won’t have to. Because Akira will need him. He met Ham
ilton’s eyes. “Kingsley won’t run. He knows his lawyers can get him out of anything.”

  “Not this. Hell, Ford, you do get that the law sometimes works in favor of what’s right? I can’t give you details, but Kingsley is done.”

  “Won’t happen.”

  “Oh, it’s happening.” Hamilton grinned. “Laura told me she called your woman. If you won’t go to the hospital—and honestly, don’t blame you, looks like a few bruises and a little cut—then at least let her take care of you. You lucky bastard.”

  Lucky? No, but Ford was a bastard for wanting to see Akira. For wanting Cort to give him a rough hug and tell him things would be okay. For being that fucking weak.

  “But Cam . . . Max—”

  “They’re both alive. And I doubt either of them regret stepping up to help you.” Hamilton laughed and slapped Ford’s shoulder. “I know I wouldn’t.”

  The man was in a pretty good goddamn mood. It was touching that the man was saying all this shit, but Ford couldn’t absorb any of it. A part of him wanted to trust that there was some kind of justice out there, but he couldn’t. All this shit was what Hamilton told himself so he could pick up his badge every day and think he could make a difference.

  Ford knew better.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Blue lights, but no sirens. Sirens would be better. With sirens, the silence wouldn’t add to the eerie quality of the night, all that flashing blue making the pulsing shadows jerk around. The glow around the alley made the darkness beyond seem deeper, or maybe just more permanent. Like it might still be there when the sun came up.

  Or maybe Cort was just too used to what was usually left behind at a scene like this. Ford being here wasn’t okay. What had almost happened to his boy made his blood boil. He cracked his jaw as he passed the small group of people talking to the cop watching the perimeter. Halfway across the alleyway, he could see Sebastian standing by Luke with his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Both looked washed out by the blue lights, but only Luke looked shaken. Sebastian’s expression was unreadable as he nodded to the cop questioning them. Several other Cobras and a few random guys Cort didn’t recognize were being questioned as well, but out of them all, Cort knew Sebastian was the one he’d need to talk to if he wanted the facts and nothing but.

  Movement to Cort’s side stopped him short before he reached Sebastian. He clenched his fist, but made sure to look before swinging.

  Good thing too. Punching a fucking cop would probably get his bail revoked.

  “Sir, this is a crime scene,” the cop said, glaring at Cort, his hand hovering near his holstered gun. “You can’t be here.”

  Like fuck, I can’t! Cort took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. The cop must be a stupid, cocky rookie. Odds were, he didn’t know Cort was supposed to be here.

  “Laura called me. I was asked to pick up my friend.” Cort gave the cop a stiff smile and turned away from him.

  The cop’s hard grip on Cort’s arm halted him abruptly. He jerked away. Heard the familiar slide of gunmetal against leather and moved without pausing to think. His fist met flesh. The wrong face was in front of him. He didn’t resist when Hamilton shoved him back. His brain couldn’t manage more than one word.

  Fuck.

  Hamilton’s grin as the man swiped away a trickle of blood brought Cort’s brain to two words. This time out loud.

  “Oh fuck.”

  “Yeah, I’d say.” Hamilton rolled his eyes and spat as he brought his attention to the other cop, who stood a few feet away with his gun aimed in their general direction. “Goddammit, put that away, Baker!”

  The other cop, Baker, fumbled with his gun as though not sure whether he should stash it or just drop it. Cort was able to breathe a little easier when the gun was safely back in Baker’s holster. Rookie didn’t look like he should be wielding anything bigger than a fucking pen for parking tickets.

  Of course, Baker hadn’t just punched a goddamn detective in the face.

  Fuckfuckfuck.

  “How many times do I got to tell you to keep it in your fucking pants, Baker? We both know what happens when you get too excited. Gotta work on that.”

  Cort stared at Hamilton.

  Baker sputtered, scowling at Cort when Cort glanced his way. A few of the other cops within hearing snorted. Baker’s lips thinned under his sorry attempt at a mustache. “He said someone named ‘Laura’ called him.”

  “That would be Tallent.” Hamilton’s lips twitched, like he was amused by how much redder Baker’s face was getting. “Any other reason for the pre-ejac?”

  He might be wrong, but Cort was pretty sure the cop standing a few feet away was pissing himself laughing and not having a seizure. But this shit was all kinds of fucked-up. Why hadn’t Hamilton dropped him in the back of a squad car yet?

  I hit him. I fucking . . . fuck! So close to being free. Cort had tasted it. Then he’d tossed it away.

  Hamilton’s hard smack on his arm made him jump. Baker was gone. And Hamilton was smirking at him. “Your one and only freebie, big guy. Go get your boy. It’s been a long day, and I don’t feel like babysitting the two of you all night. Put in a lot of hours keeping you out of jail and him alive. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “No, sir.” Cort wanted to go straight to Ford, but he couldn’t move. The cuffs were gonna come out any minute.

  Hamilton arched a brow. Then grinned. “My truck’s been giving me grief. If I bring it by your shop tomorrow . . . ?”

  Cort opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded. “I’ll take care of it. No charge.”

  “Good man.” Hamilton jutted his chin toward the back door of the bar. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

  That got Cort moving. He forgot about talking to Sebastian and just headed into the bar, wanting to be out of sight before the detective changed his mind. Cort was pretty sure he had a damn stupid smile on his face. Not being hauled off to jail put him in a pretty good mood.

  But what he saw inside had him ready to hit someone. Again.

  Just not Hamilton.

  “What the fuck, Ford!” Cort sucked air through his teeth and lowered his voice when Ford’s waitress—another one with a stripper name that he couldn’t recall—skittered backward like a startled mouse. Ford had his shirt off and the girl was taping some gauze to his side.

  The blood was already seeping through the lopsided bandage. Ford needed stitches, at very least. There were bruises forming all over his sides and his chest, not to mention the ones on the side of his face. Hell, the scrapes on his arm and cheek made it look like Ford had fallen off a motorcycle—actually, Cort was pretty sure the damage hadn’t been this bad when Ford had totalled his first bike.

  Ford didn’t even lift his head. Cort wasn’t sure the boy had heard him.

  “Ford—”

  “I want him dead. I was going to go kill him.” Ford rubbed his face with the hand he’d had his head propped up on. “They wouldn’t let me. Laura stopped me.”

  “Remind me to thank her.” Cort put his hand on Ford’s shoulder. Motioned for the waitress to go away. Maybe it was a good thing Ford hadn’t gone to the hospital. Cort couldn’t keep both Ford and Akira safe, and he recognized the tone Ford was using. Cort’s usual method of handling Ford contemplating murder was to knock the stupid kid the fuck out and let him ”sleep” it off.

  But Ford wasn’t a kid anymore. And he didn’t look like he could take another hit.

  Besides, he wasn’t wrong for wanting Kingsley dead. Cort wanted the son of a bitch dead too. A few months ago, he would have done it without thinking twice.

  Now? Kingsley wasn’t worth risking a future he was actually looking forward to. One with Akira. One with Ford.

  If Cort could patch Ford together and get the man thinking straight, maybe he could make that future a reality. He sighed after a few minutes of watching Ford, knowing that he had to say just the right thing to get Ford off that fucking stool. Out of the bar and in the car.

  Nothing
short of offering Ford a loaded gun and a lift to Kingsley’s front door occurred to Cort. He scratched his jaw and sighed again. “Don’t forget, Akira’s marrying me. So she can’t visit you in jail.”

  “She won’t want to. Not after I’ve killed people she loves.”

  “Fuck, Ford! Can I crash your pity party with some facts?” Cort rubbed his forehead, wishing someone had done the counseling bullshit before he’d gotten there. “Laura told me everything. No one’s dead. Not even the fucktards that came after you.”

  Ford lifted his head, his eyes narrowed. “Tim’s dead.”

  Cort went still. Ran his tongue over his teeth. Resisted the urge to punch Ford a second time. “You tell me that’s not on me, then take it on yourself? Enough of this crap! Get off your goddamn ass. Bad shit went down, but you’re still alive. Our woman is at a sleazy motel being watched over by a bunch of bikers while you’re sitting here sulking about not being able to put a bullet in your old man. Get the fuck over it!”

  “Cort!” A chair hit the floor as Laura hurried across the room, casting a glare over her shoulder at Hamilton who was watching them from the other side of the room, doing a bad job at holding back a snort. Reaching them, Laura gave Ford a sympathetic look. “I know you’re angry. I was hoping Akira would come, but—”

  “I’m not sure it’s safe for Akira yet,” Cort said, keeping his eyes on Ford and hoping the man agreed. Fine, Cort might not be all the kisses and cuddles Laura clearly thought Ford needed, but Ford couldn’t be so far gone that he’d want Akira here.

  Ford shook his head. “Cort’s right. Akira can’t be seen with me. Not yet.”

  “So she’s safer with the bikers?” Laura folded her arms over her chest. Shook her head. “Ford, I think you should go to the hospital. Have Akira meet you there. You know she’ll worry if she sees you not being taken care of.”

  Pressing his fingertips into his eyelids, Ford shook his head. “She’ll see me taken care of.” He seemed to pull himself together as he straightened and looked to Cort. “I mean, if you don’t mind?”