by Jayne Blue
“Tiny’s in charge of receipts?” I said, raising a skeptical brow.
Sly laughed. “He’s got a knack for spreadsheets. Who knew?”
I shook my head. “You know we’ve got a problem brewing with that one?” I pointed my thumb toward the door Billy had just exited.
Sly nodded. He leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the table, crossing one boot over the other. “Yep. It’s been coming on for a while.”
“Really? Here I thought it was just about me.”
Sly shook his head. “That’s made it worse. I won’t lie to you. Billy wants to fight me on every damn decision I make.”
“Can I ask why you made him your V.P. then?”
“Who else would it be? It was Charlie in the first few years but he’s too damn old. He’s earned his retirement and the right to sit out there in the bar and tell stories while he looks at pretty cocktail waitresses. Tiny doesn’t have the head or the heart for it. He’s too much of a softie. Colt, Sawyer, some of the other guys closer to our age serve me better in other positions. Billy’s stubborn as hell, smart, and when push comes to shove, he’s had my back. Even though he’s a son of a bitch along the way.”
I nodded. “Look. I didn’t mean to try telling you how to run things. I’ve said this before. You did what you had to do and I wasn’t there to back you up. I am now though. I hope you know that.”
Sly smiled. It was that same shit-eating grin he’d had since the day I met him. The same one he used to flash at my mother to try and keep her from boxing his ears when she caught him doing something he shouldn’t, which was often. She’d given his nickname because of it.
“Thank God you’re back, man,” he said. “We’re going to set things right in this club, I swear it. Billy sees the writing on the wall. He’s happy you’re back too but the guy fears change. He’s bore most of the brunt of the shit we’ve still had to do for Pagano. I’m going to find a place for him that suits him better. In the end, he’s going to realize he’ll be a whole lot happier without that V.P. patch.”
“Great,” I said, smiling. “So what kind of shit sandwich am I biting into taking it from him then?”
“Agh.” Sly rose and slapped me on the back. “Get ready to raise hell, my brother. Of course, I think my next order of business as club president is to get you good and laid. You keep walking around like that and you’re liable to have a heart attack or go blind or something.”
I laughed and slugged Sly in the arm.
“Come on,” he said. “We can look over Tiny’s bar spreadsheets tomorrow. Let’s punch in our time cards and hang out at the bar. It’s Friday night. Let’s see what kind of wing man I still am.”
I followed him out of the back room and we took two stools at the end of the bar. I had Charlie on one side of me, Sly on the other and pretty soon a tall draft in a frosted mug in front of me. It was the happiest I’d been since walking out of Marion.
Except for one thing.
Charlie slid a bowl of peanuts in front of me and I grabbed a handful. My thoughts drifted to Ava, as they always seemed to. I knew the decent thing to do was let her go. Let her figure out whether she wanted to see me on her own terms. I’d spent so much time waiting, with no control over my own destiny. I knew I could give her space, but only for so long.
Billy tuned the flat screens over the bar to a replay of last week’s fight. Sly explained we were watching a couple of rival fighters that would take on our guys in the coming weeks. He explained some things we had to resolve with the promoters and issues he was having with one of the new trainers he’d hired. I listened, interested, but I was unsettled thinking about what Ava might be doing this very minute. I wondered how long I’d be able to keep my promise to myself to let her come to me. She wasn’t married. Of all the things Sly said about her, that was the one that stuck in my head. She wasn’t married. I still had a chance. Even though I knew probably the best thing for her was to have me far away.
Charlie sat at his perch on the corner end of the bar like some king. He was happy, beaming even. The waitresses took turns bringing him beers and way too much food to keep his heart happy. He was lucky Mo was out of town visiting her sister tonight. If she saw how much he packed away, she’d throw a fit. Once or twice I gave him side eye when one of the girls brought in a heaping plate of mozzarella sticks and plopped them right in front of him. He growled at me just like a grizzly bear and I threw an arm around his shoulder and hugged him.
This was good. This felt right. I was home. But I should know by now that it never lasts. It was after eleven. The dating crowd started to clear out, leaving the harder-core partiers behind. The atmosphere in the Den got more raucous. Nothing was a problem yet, but I could see Tiny and the bouncers start to shift, taking ready positions around the room in case they were needed to break something up. The problem didn’t start in the bar though. It came from outside.
Two of the newer prospects charged through the back door of the bar and ran up to Sly.
“Boss.” The younger one, Gunner I think was his name, slid onto the stool next to Sly and tried to catch his breath.
Sly straightened and so did I. I didn’t like the look in the kid’s eyes and my fingers twitched at my side, reaching for the gun I hadn’t carried in years. I knew I was probably going to have to remedy that real soon.
“Trouble,” Gunner gasped. “Big trouble.”
The other kid, Curtis, came beside him. “Somebody grabbed Franco right outside the gym when he was getting into his car. They threw him into a van and drove off. Avery and Big John were working security. They tried to chase after them but the van shook ’em.”
Sly’s face went gray. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “How long ago?”
“Fifteen minutes maybe,” Gunner said. “We flew over here as quick as we could.”
“Shit,” Sly said again. “What the hell was he doing out there so late?”
Gunner shrugged. “He crashes there some nights. Sleeps in one of the loft apartments on the second floor.”
“Hawks?” I said. In all the time he’d spent catching me up to speed, Sly hadn’t said one word about any turf war flaring up. I didn’t even want to think about the other possibility.
Sly shook his head. “I’m not sure. It could be anything. I didn’t think DiSalvo’s people would take anything that far. We’ve got to get over there.”
“Let’s ride,” I said. Adrenaline shot through my veins. As much as I had concern for Franco, a part of me sprang to life in that moment. A part of me that I’d had to force to be still for far too long. This was my club, these were my brothers and someone had reached out to try and hurt us. I missed being a soldier.
We made it as far as the back door before we heard a bloodcurdling scream from the front of the bar. Sly and I moved together, running at top speed toward the source of the scream. It was Catherine, one of the college girls Sly had on as hostess. She stood in the open doorway to the parking lot. At her feet was Franco, covered in blood, his glassy eyes staring up at her. Tires squealed as a black van sped out of the parking lot. I just glimpsed a white hand slamming its double back doors shut. It had no license plate and the windows were tinted.
I got to the kid first. I slid to my knees and got his head on my lap. He wasn’t dead. I felt a pulse. But his skin was waxy and white and he was shivering. I lifted up his t-shirt; it was soaked in blood and more gushed out of an ugly gash in his stomach. The knife was still in him. He had another slash across his left cheek. The skin flapped open and I could see muscle and fat.
“Get me a towel,” I shouted to Catherine. “Something I can use to apply pressure. Call 911.”
Sly already had his phone out and made the call. The kid’s right hand was mangled and bloodied too. I guessed he’d probably tried to fight off whoever came at him with the knife. His other hand came up and he clamped it over my arm. His eyelids flickered and he tried to focus but then his eyes rolled back into
his head.
“It’s all right. You’re gonna be all right. I got you.”
He moaned and tightened his death grip on my forearm. We were about to find out just how strong a fighter he really was. Catherine handed me the towel and I pressed it against his stomach, trying to staunch the flow of blood. The other wounds were bad, but it was easy to see that’s the one that could prove deadly.
“They’re on their way,” Sly said. He sank to his knees beside us. We locked eyes and I shook my head. It was bad. It was real bad. If the kid didn’t bleed out on the bar floor, he might have a chance.
“Chicken Hawk,” I said to the kid. It occurred to me the thing to do was keep him with us, keep talking until help arrived. His skin grew colder under my touch and he started to shiver harder.
“You got a blanket or something?” I said to Sly. “He’s turning to ice.”
Billy was already on it. He ran to the back and returned a few seconds later with a big green army blanket. He and Sly wrapped it around the kid and we waited.
“Chicken Hawk,” I said again. “Just hang in there. We’re gonna get you some help. You did all right. You fought real hard.”
He moaned and nodded, tried to say something. A name maybe. I wanted to hear what he had to say. We needed to know who the hell was responsible for this. But my main concern was getting him to a damn hospital. We could deal with the repercussions of what happened later. Later ... but soon.
It probably only took a couple of minutes, but it seemed like forever before I heard the wail of a siren pulling up. I looked around. I’d been so focused on the kid in my lap, I hadn’t realized Charlie and Tiny had got the bar cleared out. They must have led everyone out the back because I was currently sitting in the middle of the floor right in front of the main doorway.
The paramedics charged in with their supplies and a stretcher. A big African-American EMT leaned down next to me and started examining Franco. He talked to him just like I had.
“Pete,” I said to the EMT. “His name’s Pete Franco.”
The EMT nodded. “Hey there, Pete. My name’s Cal. We’re gonna get you some help, okay? You just hang in there.”
Franco nodded. I tried to shift so the EMTs could get closer to him but Franco wouldn’t let go of my arm. He moaned again in protest when I tried to peel myself away from him.
“It’s okay for now,” Cal said. “You can ride along with him. Keep talking to him. Keep him with us.”
I nodded and shot a look to Sly. He and Billy would ride behind the ambulance. Things moved fast. Cal and his partner got an oxygen mask over Franco’s face and the stretcher underneath him. Cal’s partner talked into a radio and we were on the move. I climbed into the ambulance with Franco, never letting go of him. The kid was half dead and probably scared out of his mind but he wasn’t going to let go of my arm. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let go of him either.
Rage rose within me. Whoever did this to him did it to send a message to the club. There could be no other explanation for it. I wouldn’t leave Franco’s side, but I wanted to get Sly alone and figure out what the hell he thought. Was this the Devil’s Hawks? DiSalvo’s people? There was one other likely candidate and that’s what had my blood simmering with fresh hatred. George Pagano. If Sly was right, he was gearing up to try and force the club’s hand into getting further into bed with him. This might be just the kind of cowardly move he’d make to let us know he could get to us. He wouldn’t come at the club members directly. No. That would be too brave. Instead, he’d take it out on this poor kid. Make the other fighters scared to be associated with us.
If I was right, this was bad. This was very bad. God, I hoped I was wrong. But the slow pit of rage forming in my stomach told me otherwise. The timing was too convenient with the phone call I took from him. I get out, roll back into town. Pagano makes his presence known.
“Don’t you go anywhere,” I said when I felt Franco’s grip start to slip. I made eyes at Cal who was busy putting pressure on Franco’s abdomen and packing the area around the knife. Cal’s face was grim. He talked into a radio at his shoulder, letting the hospital know how far out we were and what he thought the kid would need when we got there. Franco’s eyes fluttered and he gave me kind of a nod. But his grip tightened just a little and it set my mind at ease, if only for a few seconds.
I wanted to kill whatever bastard was responsible for this. They were trying to take away everything that mattered to this kid. I knew what that felt like. He tried to fight for his life and his right hand was mangled meat because of it. Even if he survived the blood loss and whatever happened to his insides, I doubted he’d ever be able to fight again after this. Something in Franco’s eyes told me he knew the consequences too.
“We’re going to take care of you.” I leaned down close to his ear so I knew he would hear me. “You understand me? The club is going to take care of you, no matter what. That’s a promise.”
Franco groaned but I knew he understood. Just then, we pulled into the hospital ambulance bay and things moved quickly after that. I ran alongside the stretcher; Franco still had my arm gripped tight. Cal smacked the silver button next to the doors and they slid open. I kept my eyes on Franco, praying it wasn’t too late for him. His grip loosened a little as we ran the rest of the way into the hospital.
“We got a fighter here, Ava.” Cal’s words stopped me short. I looked up from Franco and Ava was standing before me.
Her face looked about as white as Franco’s. She stood there in pink scrubs, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes pierced straight through me and my heart dropped to my feet. She looked me up and down and her head shook. It all happened in a split second. I looked down at what she saw. I was covered in Franco’s blood.
“It’s the kid’s,” I said to her. “I’m not hurt.”
A shudder went through Ava and then she sprang into action. She ran to Franco’s side and muscled right past me, breaking his grip on my arm. She tore his shirt aside and started to assess the damage. She barked orders to Cal and the rest of the hospital staff around her. She was calm, sure and most definitely in charge.
“You can wait over there.” She gave me a stern order and pointed her latex-gloved finger to a row of chairs. “Give me the run down, Cal!”
She turned back to her patient and started chest compressions. Shit. The second Franco let go of my arm, it appeared he’d also stopped breathing.
I did as Ava ordered. I sank into the chairs across from the nurse’s station. They wheeled Franco into an exam room and I watched as Ava—my Ava—became this creature I’d never seen. Cal, the other orderlies and nurses yielded to her commands. They rolled Franco on his back then she gave a three count and they lifted him bodily to another gurney. Cal pulled the stretcher out of the way and backed out of the room. I watched in awe as Ava got busy with the work of saving that kid’s life.
I tried to reconcile the feisty girl I’d left behind with this warrior queen I saw in front of me now. She was amazing. A doctor came in and he seemed unsure of himself. He gave an order, she made a suggestion and he carried it out.
“Thank God Ava’s here.” Sly sat down in the chair next to me, running a hand through his tousled hair. I knew he’d rode like hell on wheels to get here just behind the ambulance. “Did she say how bad she thought it was?”
I shook my head. One of the orderlies came around and snapped back the privacy curtain and now I couldn’t see Ava or what was happening to the kid. “She took over and told my ass to sit right here.”
Sly let out a low laugh. “Yeah. She does that.”
A knife turned in my gut. Sly knew this woman more than I did now. She’d always been smart and sharp. I knew she’d succeed in whatever she wanted to do. But knowing that of the twenty-one-year-old candy striper I fell in love with and seeing this marvel of a woman, I wanted to know everything about the path she took to get there. A path she’d had to walk without me.
�
�The two of you need to get over yourselves long enough to have a real conversation.” Sly still had a way of boiling a situation down to its core parts.
I nodded. “I’m not sure she’s too keen on spending a whole lot of time with me.”
Sly shook his head. “She will be. You need to quit worrying about hurting her. Ava can take care of herself.”
I smiled and straightened my shoulders. “Let’s just get past one crisis at a time.”
Billy came through the sliding doors and took a position on the far side of the room with his back to the wall, acting sentry. Tiny came in behind him and stood opposite him. They all had their roles to play.
“You know who did this?”
Sly didn’t make eye contact. He just stared ahead at the closed curtain. “That’s another real conversation that has to happen. Like you said. Let’s just focus on the crisis in front of us.”
“What about the gym?” I asked. “Is everybody on lockdown?”
Sly nodded. “It’s secured.”
“Good. You want everyone at the Den tonight?”
Sly nodded. “Until we have a better handle on what’s going on, yes. The rest of the fighters are safe. We’ll close ranks tonight and come up with a plan.”
I slapped Sly on the knee. When I looked down at my arm, it was covered in blood. My shirt and the front of my jeans were too. No wonder Ava freaked when she saw me.
“Yeah,” Sly said. “Why don’t you try and clean yourself up?”
I rose, intending to head for the nearest men’s room. Just then, the privacy curtain snapped open and they wheeled Franco back out. They had him hooked up to a ventilator and about four other machines as they headed down the hallway with him.
Then Ava stood in front of me again, her eyes blazing with hurt.
“Angel,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I didn’t get to say anything else. She took two strides forward, brought her hands up to my face and pulled my head down to meet her lips.
