by Neal, Xavier
In a meek voice I answer, “Very clear, sir.”
“Good,” he sighs. “Because personally I like option two better.”
“Which is?”
“I keep you alive. You answer any and all questions about The Devil, his business, and associates. You do this, we strike a deal to count all your corroborating information and testimony as time served. You never set foot in a cell or even the precinct.”
That sounds like a hell of a deal doesn't it?
“And just so you know I am a man of my word. You know The Devil's reach, but in case you may have underestimated it, the nurse that should've been back by now, was just arrested by my officer who you thought left to get me coffee.”
There's a sharp gasp in the room to match my own.
Was that you?
“On The Devil's payroll. Most likely with instructions to kill you if you actually woke up.” The information causes me to shift uncomfortably again. “Now, which option would you like to take Miss Porter?”
Scary in a different way from The Devil, but still scary, right?
Without hesitating I reply, “Anything you wanna know.”
“Good. Let's start.” He shoves the cuffs back in his pocket. “Do you know anything about the whereabouts of Prince Duke Hastard?”
“He was drugged and put on a plane. Currently he's staying at a hotel in Belize being kept by one of The Devil's babysitters. He's being heavily sedated with memory suppressors. When you do get to him there's a high chance he won't remember anything after a few weeks ago.”
The information receives a slow nod. “And how do you know that?”
“I am, well, was, The Devil's pharmacist.”
“Meaning?”
“I um...I was in charge of helping create healing agents, hallucinogens, as well as various poisons which aided in his torture tactics.”
Why am I still alive? Do you hear what I've done for the last few years of my life? I deserve to be the one on the ground with my eyes wide open. Not him...not him.
“Were you the female that helped keep my daughter drugged?”
My mouth trembles, but I confess, “Yes.”
“Were you the female that kept her taken and alive?”
I whisper once more. “Yes.”
To my surprise he quietly says, “Thank you.” When my eyebrows lift in shock he adds, “She says she remembers you trying to help not hurt her. Thank you.”
Unsure of what to say I simply nod.
The Commissioner changes gears back to his original line of questioning. “Were you partially responsible for helping kidnap Drew and Daniel McCoy?”
Quietly I answer, “Yes.”
“She's also the one who helped heal them,” the female voice pipes in. “Give her credit for that too.”
He raises his hand. “I will, Knoxie. No need to worry.”
“I wasn't worried.”
She's just as protective as Drew mentioned. I wonder how much she's going to hate me soon.
“Do you have any idea where The Devil is now?”
“Can you charge him with something this very moment?” I counter. When he tilts his head at me in question, I sigh, “You fight straight ahead Commissioner. Rarely does he. I know you've been cleaning out the system, ridding it of those under his thumb, but he still has a few major players in place, so unless you have concrete evidence prepared by someone who is not Danielle Tambert, you will be wasting your time and showing him more cards than he needs to see. The way he's acting now, the way you've got him feeling is like a wounded animal trapped in a corner. Don't lose that.”
To my surprise he smiles. “Exactly how I want him feeling. And yes, DA Danielle Tambert has been removed and began singing what she knows herself about The Devil.”
Turns out The Commissioner really is making progress. Good. The Devil needs a reason to stay scared.
“We actually have his fingerprints all over a stolen item that was recently stolen from Harrison Delmont.”
How did....How did Drew get those?
“Thankfully the item was returned, but Mr. Delmont would like to press charges-”
“You may want to inform Mr. Delmont to stay away from his priceless statue of 'Skon'. It's a forgery that contains two active toxic agents that when breathed constantly over several days will damage your nervous system eventually resulting in a full shut down.”
Yeah. That's what we had him replace it with. See. The Devil is always trying to cover his tracks or make someone pay for something.
After a long stare of disbelief of the information he says, “Will do immediately. With Mr. Delmont wanting to press charges for theft and now attempted murder, I think it is safe to say we have a couple balls rolling. Any information you can provide about The Devil's whereabouts is crucial.”
Rubbing my throbbing head I answer, “He was last headed for his beach resort on the east coast of the state. It's not in his name. His homes are listed under aliases. I don't know them.”
“General area?”
“Private beach on Vanlovua.”
A long exhale comes from me, which prompts someone to voice, “Can the rest of this wait? Look at her. She clearly needs more rest.”
The Commissioner gives me a hard look and a nod. “Rest.”
“What about her safety?” Knox chimes in harshly. “What's your plan to protect her?”
“I plan to let The Devil think she's dead,” he quickly answers.
“And put her where?” The strong voice asks, but I don't let my eyes shift that direction.
I can't face the remaining McCoys. Not yet.
“WITSEC if she would like.” He pauses before adding, “However, if I know anything about McCoy men, you do one helluva job protecting the people you call family. Better than any marshal ever could. Choice is hers.” His eyes fall to me. “I'll give you a couple hours to decide if you want a spot in the program or if you would rather remain dead in the care of the McCoys, which we will then need to discuss what that entails.”
“Got it,” the strong voice declares. “We will speak soon, Commissioner.”
“Miss Porter,” he says with his eyes in mine. “I'll be back this evening.”
Without further discussion he turns and heads out of the room. As soon as the door shuts so do my eyes.
I don't wanna be in WITSEC. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad to get a fresh start? A new identity? But can I do that?
“How do you feel?” A voice I know lifts my eyes up.
“A little worn out, but I'll be fine. I drugged myself, so I knew the consequences.”
“That takes balls,” Knoxie quickly insists, folding her arms across her chest.
Madden, which I know because he's the only one who doesn't look like the triplets snaps, “Knox.”
“What?” She gives him a harsh glare. “The rest of you can barely bandage your knuckles without crying like a bitch.”
Her attitude causes me to giggle a little, which prevents me from getting swept away in how gorgeous she is.
Bikini model body with a biker mouth? How does anyone compete with that?
The two remaining McCoy triplets are at the foot of my bed with their arms folded across their chests.
It's insane how identical they look side by side. Same clothing. Same expressions. The differences are so subtle that if I hadn't spent almost two weeks staring into a specific pair of eyes, I wouldn't know the difference in the one who died.
Trying to ease some of the tension in my body I shift. “You three really look...just...like photocopied versions of one another.”
In unison they ask, “Can you tell us apart?”
My eyes oscillate back and forth, but I say nothing.
“You love one of us,” the one on the left comments.
“Or so you say,” the one on the right adds.
“Which one is which?” Their questioning in tandem makes me tense.
Nothing like being accused of not knowing the only person you love more than your
self.
I point to the one on the left. “Come here, please.”
Neither make an expression to give me a hint if I'm right or not. Instead he strolls over and leans for me to speak in his ear. After a few quick words, I place my hand on his face, and he nods. I then motion for the other to come over. When he arrives on the other side of me, he leans forward just as the one to the left had.
The moment he's close enough I slap him across the face.
You're damn right I did!
“Ou!” He screeches.
“How fucking dare you imply I don't know the man I love when I see him,” I sharply snap. His mouth bobs, but I don't let him speak. “I risked my life for you! I was ready to die Drew McCoy so you could live! You told me to trust you when you couldn't even trust that I would know who you were!”
“I knew I liked her,” Knox whispers.
“You didn't trust me!” Drew shouts back. “If you trusted me you would've believed me when I said I would come back for you!”
“I did!”
“Then why'd you try to kill yourself!”
“I didn't!” The shrieking continues. “I took enough to knock myself unconscious. I knew you and your brothers had some sort of plan. You would need more time than The Devil was going to allow. I gave myself enough to make sure I would stay passed out until you could get me somewhere safe. It also allowed for worst case scenario, which was him killing you before you stepped back on the property, to have my fail safe in place.”
“I don't even know what that means,” Drew sighs.
“It means, had you not gotten me to a hospital, had I still been stuck with The Devil, and he chose not to put a bullet in my brain, phase 2 of the mixture I took would've set in. It was a two phase drug. First phase unconsciousness. Checking my vitals at a hospital they would've spotted my system needed to be flushed ridding my body of the second drug which would have killed me once the first one wore off.”
“Basically she made it so if you didn't save her, she didn't have to live without you,” Knox explains.
That's what I said isn't it?
Drew slips his hand with mine and presses his forehead against mine. “Oh Mel...”
Tears start to sting the sides of my eyes. In a whimper, I cry, “I'm sorry, Drew. I'm sorry about Daniel.”
Hearing his brother's name causes his own tears to tumble from him. He doesn't say anything as he wraps himself around me. I hold him tightly to my body, eyes shut. The entire room is filled with so much strain it's suffocating.
After a moment he pulls away and I shake my head. “It's all my fault. If you hadn't come back for me-”
“No,” Drew stops me. Wiping away his tears with the back of his hand he shakes his head. “Don't.”
“But-”
“You didn't shoot him in the lung,” Drew states. The information raises my eyebrows. “And you didn't dive in front of a bullet to save me.” My hand catches my gasp. With a trembling voice he says, “I tried to save him. I drove as fast as I could.” His eyes lift to his brothers. “I did. I held his hand when he told me to....” Tears congregate once more. “That was it. When Daniel made me reach for his hand, I knew it was too late...” Finally he looks back down at me. “He was...DOA.”
“You should've never come back for me,” I whisper my guilt.
“If you wouldn't have been there to save them, they'd both be dead,” Madden's declaration turns my face.
“They had the antidote already,” I argue.
“We did,” Drew agrees. “But The Devil was expecting us to walk through the front door, which without you alive, we would have. We would've walked into our own massacre. Omar gave us a fighting chance because of you. He wanted you saved as much as I did.”
Omar...Geez, what's The Devil going to do if he finds out Omar helped them? Pray for him please. Pray that The Commissioner finds The Devil before he can do anything to the only other man who risked his life to save mine.
A hush falls across the room. It's at that moment I look up and around at the faces that are stained with tears. Destin and Drew who in pain look remarkably different. Destin's face looks soft, sweet, and in desperation of saving. Drew's looks hardened, hurt, and trying to explode into an uncontrollable rage. It's similar to the grim one on Madden's face. Knoxie looks beautiful even as tears fall from her eyes silently. The sight of these people who've just lost a family member I couldn't help save hurts my own heart to the point my chest starts to constrict.
I didn't deserve to live. He did. Yet here I am. I can't undo that. I can't replace my life for his. I swear, if I could, I would. What can I do? Well...yeah...I guess I can do that. I can take care of Drew the best I can. I swear to you and Daniel both, I'll do everything I can to keep him alive and them from losing one more McCoy.
Drew
Leaning against my bike, which part of me now loathes, I stare off into the cloudy distance.
“I'm so fucking tired of going to the graveyard,” Destin mutters from beside me.
“We all are,” I reply softly, eyes still focused ahead. “We all fucking are, bro.”
He sniffles and sighs, “I don't think I can do this, Drew. I can't put Middle Man in the ground.”
My face finally falls.
I have to bury another brother today. I have to fucking say goodbye again. No one told him to dive in front of that fucking bullet for me. He should be standing here mourning me. He should be here against this bike, cursing my name and smoking a cigarette. You know what that bastard said when I asked him why he did that? You know what he fucking said? That he owed me. That he owed me for saving his ass his entire life. That it was about time he could save mine. If that shit wasn't fucking enough, he had the fucking nerve to say he owed Mel one for saving his life long enough to see his brothers one final time. Fuck him for that. Fuck him for all of that! He's a smartass asshole! No, I can't stop crying. You stop crying. Fuck. And no, I didn't tell my brothers he said that, just Mel. She deserved to know. She cried harder when I did. Apparently survivor's guilt is real shit.
“I can't...”
Turning my voice to him, but keeping my face down I state, “We don't have a choice.” The back of my hand rubs my nose before I lift my eyes back to his. “We bury our brother. We send him off with love then we don't stop until we make sure The Devil gets acquainted with the same six feet he made Daniel and Merrick meet.”
Destin nods and shoves his hands in his pockets.
That's a fucking promise if I've ever made one.
“Hey,” Mel's soft voice joins us. “I'm...ready.”
My eyes glance over the black form fitting dress Knox let her borrow. The sight of all of her curves on display makes my dick twitch in my jeans.
Of all the fucking times...
She leans up and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. In a whisper she says, “Knoxie warned me you would react that way.”
A small smile twitches on my face. “You ready for your first ride?”
Her eyes widen.
Yeah, can you believe it? Been home about a week and haven't taken my bike out yet. Partially because we've barely left the apartment other than to meet with The Commissioner, who is charging The Devil with kidnapping me and Daniel's murder among other things, and partially because I didn't have the heart too.
I hand her a helmet before I crawl on my bike and start it almost in unison with Destin. Once we're both settled, I offer her a hand to hop on, insisting, “Hold on tight.”
Destin pulls out first, with me tightly behind. Melody immediately wraps herself tighter around me. Increasing the speed, I find the freedom in flying down the road I once used to. As we agreed before we started the journey to Aunt Kelli's, we take the long route, giving our own silent solute to Daniel. On curves we rev up to speeds that would easily scare anyone, but are ones we both know are where we are most comfortable. While on straight-aways we lean a little harsher to each side than necessary.
