by K. S. Adkins
“You’re crazy.”
“Probably,” he admits. “But the drug your friend invented, Macy is it? Really quite powerful. She’s very gifted. It’s a shame she doesn’t die easily.” When he finishes and stands there smiling I can feel myself fighting for control. How does he even know this shit? He drugged me? How did he even get it? “You want to kill me right now don’t you, son?” He laughs, but I find nothing funny about this. “I win again, Maxwell.”
The he raises the pistol from behind his back and fires.
“I want to meet your guys,” she says, typing on the other end of the phone. “Seriously, momma wants a sample.”
“Ew,” I groan. “No, no sampling.”
“Variety is the spice of life.”
“My guys are off limits.”
“Possessive much?” she giggles. “Or all they all yours, hmm?”
“Knock it off,” I tell her. “I’m a married woman.”
“Like that’s ever stopped a woman before?” she says flippantly. “In fact, it’s a proven fact that—”
“Lina,” I growl. “I’m not like other married women; I took vows.”
“No, you’re not like other women,” she says, laughing. “You’re fucking boring.”
Lina isn’t calling me back, dammit. Max is MIA, and these two fuckheads are driving me insane. I’ve worked with them on jobs for three years, and never have they talked this much about absolutely nothing. Part of me knows they’re trying to keep me level, but the other part knows they are as worried as I am.
They may never admit it, but they like Max.
How can you not? I spent less than a few hours with him and fell head over combat boots. He’s that guy, the gentle giant you can’t help but love, and I can’t find him after I promised to protect him. I’ve searched everywhere. I’ve had Rogan watching Hank’s house, but there’s zero activity. No one has entered or exited the club, and Max hasn’t even used his phone. Where in the hell is he? Just when I’m about to introduce my head to a wall, I get a text from Lina.
Shots fired at Palmer Woods, holding off units. Get your ass in gear.
You owe me. Oh, and I don’t love you.
Coming to my feet I run to my bag to get what I need. Bishop looks around for something to shoot and Duffy gets in my space. “Update, Boss.”
“Shots fired at Hank’s house, no units will respond. Let’s rage,” I tell him, grabbing my guns, keys, and phone. Just like that our team comes together and we jump into Duffy’s truck and haul ass to Hank’s house. Giving them directions and explaining the layout of the house, I’m pissed that I didn’t think to check his other residence. Problem was, public record showed he had sold the house four years ago, and I should have fucking known better than to chance it. For three days we came up cold searching for Max and Hank; he was so close all along.
If something happens to him because of my error, I’ll never forgive myself.
Hank kept a home in Palmer Woods when he was fucking my mother, which is ironic considering he hates Detroit and anything or anyone who calls it home. For a man who hates Detroit, he spent a lot of time here. The city was beneath a man like Hank, but fucking its residents was okie dokie. The cockfucker.
“I can’t see shit,” says Bishop. “Too many god damn trees. Who needs this many fucking trees?”
“That one,” I say, opening my door before we stop.
“Boss, hold up,” says Bishop. “We need to check the perimeter. There could be unknowns in there; your safety comes first.”
“You two check whatever the hell you want,” I tell them both with my don’t fuck with me look. “I’m going in.”
“Boss,” says Bishop, grabbing my arm. “We go in as a team.”
Unbuckling my holster and drawing my pistol out, I tell my guys the hard truth. “Shots have been fired Bishop, we don’t have time to argue this out. It’s my fault he’s in there, therefore this is my fix. Protect Max, that’s your objective. Stay out of it so you stay clean; that’s an order.” And before Bishop can get another word out, I run full out, needing to get inside to Max and protect him at any cost.
Coming in through the side door I can hear Hank yelling; I check the exits of the kitchen and see it’s clear. I see him standing over a bleeding Max with a pistol aimed at his chest. Max is already bleeding from a shot to the shoulder. He’s holding his arm with pain written all over his face. The only thing more prevalent than the pain is the look of shock and fury. With no time to react to what I’m seeing I level my own pistol on Hank’s back. I enter with “ ̓Sup, Hank.”
When he whips around and aims it at me screaming “You whore!” I fire two shots. One to his right wrist causing him to drop his weapon, one to his left kneecap, causing him to drop to the floor. My men come in directly after me, I suppose since we aren’t officially here on team business they are picking and choosing their orders. While Bishops secures Max I wait to approach Hank. Duffy approaches a screaming Hank first and pulls him to his feet by his throat.
“You fucking dog,” Hank screams. “You are a whore just like your mother! You even look like her!” Walking up to Hank with my 9mm aimed at his heart I smile a little at the fear he has for me, a fear that I intend to exploit before he gets put down.
“What can I say, Hank? Who knew she had taste? Most of the time she wasn’t the least bit picky. To kick your ass to the curb was really saying something.”
“You think this is over? This is just the beginning, you little slut; they are coming for you. They’re coming for all of you!”
When Duffy tightens his grip, restricting Hank’s air, I decided to get answers first, kill second. “Who might that be, Hank?”
“Fuck you, gutter rat,” he says, followed by an, “Ow fuck you stupid ni—”
Cutting him off before he finishes his slur, I take the butt of my gun and slam it into his nose. Leaning in while Duffy tries not to laugh, I give Hank one final warning. “You ever speak to one of my men like that again,” I warn, squeezing his mouth open and sliding the barrel inside. “I will pull this fucking trigger, you piece of shit.”
Once he finally takes the hint and shuts up I take in the room I noticed Max’s blood everywhere. Especially on the floor by the window where he was propped up when I arrived. Kneeling down to grab Hank’s weapon and remove it from the room, shock and hysteria take Hank over and his incessant yelling is giving me a headache. Thank god there are no neighbors close by. But it’s when Hank sees me looking at Max, he goes nuts.
“He is too weak!” squeals Hank to no one in particular. “Cops will turn on cops, civilian against civilian, no will be safe. We’re taking the city back! You can’t stop us; even your police department wants us to succeed. This is just the beginning! Detroit will fall!”
“Detroit won’t fall, pops.” I smile at him. “I won’t allow it.”
“You can’t stop it.” he growls at me. “Your blood will stain the streets.”
“Probably,” I agree. “But I’ll be taking all of you down with me.”
“We are more alike than you think, daughter.” he laughs. “It’s a shame you picked the wrong side. Your friends will die because of you; he will die because of you. You will die knowing you failed. You come from nothing; you are nothing.”
Duffy held him secure, but I nod for him to release him. When Hank sways on his feet I get in his space and remind the asshole who he’s dealing with. “You’re right, Hank,” I whisper. “I am nothing. But right now I have nothing to lose, do I? You’ve taken everything from me, right? I think it’s time someone takes from you.”
“You won’t win.” He growls at me while Duffy steps in to restrain him.
“I don’t have to win,” I say, smiling. “I just have to outlive you.”
“Killing me won’t save you,” he says. “Any of you.”
“Bishop,” I order him from the next room. “Is he mobile?”
There is a slight pause, then, “Affirmative, Boss, he’s mobile.”
&
nbsp; While Bishop brings Max in, Duffy drags Hank to a chair with his hands behind his back. Seeing Max being helped by Bishop has me wanting to run over and take Bishop’s place, ask him if he’s okay, be his support, but I don’t. Because my place isn’t by his side anymore.
Hank is glaring at Max. From where I’m standing I’m looking at a father who truly hates his son. Glancing at Max, he is looking at Hank like he’s a stranger, like this is the first time he’s really seen him. We don’t have much time to wrap this up, so taking my gun I try handing it to a very silent Max. “This is your right, Max.” He looks to the gun to me and back but stays silent, refusing to take it.
“Max, my man,” says Bishop. “Your play.”
He looks like a man haunted; then he blinks and he looks like a man pissed. Seriously pissed. Taking the gun from my hand he aims it at a suddenly quiet Hank and pulls the trigger. The shot makes me jump because he fired it so fast. He hit him square in the shoulder. Not a kill shot, just a messy one. When Hank starts screaming again Max doesn’t even flinch. Shooting him again he hits Hank in the opposite shoulder. The screaming intensifies but the problem is Max isn’t doing anything but staring at me. Evil is evil but you can’t let the guy scream to death; nobody wants to listen to that. I nod to Bishop and he approaches Max to give him the support he needs.
“You gotta finish him off, man,” he says. “Make that bullet count.” He raises his arm like a robot but doesn’t let it fly. The screaming is too much for him, probably the blood, too, and Max could go into shock.
“Max,” I warn. “Take the shot or walk away; do it now.”
Turning to Bishop, not me, he turns the gun around, handing it to him by the handle first and whispers, “I can’t.” Wasting no time, he guides Max to another part of the house on my order.
Bishops yells “Secure,” and taking three steps to reach Hank I look him in the eyes before I say. “I can.” Then I snap his neck not even bothering to watch him tip over and fall to the floor. Yes, I could have shot him, but this felt better. Besides, Max has dealt with enough shots fired around him tonight; I recognize gun shy when I see it.
An hour later, with Hank contained, I text Lina to hold off further units, seeing as Hank is about to disappear, and that setup takes time. Walking in to relieve Bishop, I notice right away Max doesn’t even see me anymore; now he sees something else. Someone else, someone he can’t identify with.
A killer.
He stays seated while we finish up, and at some point the sun started to rise. It hits me that I am exhausted, and that Max still hasn’t spoken to me. His staring is unnerving me, though, so even when the guys try to engage me to keep my head in a good place, I just can’t get back into it like I used to. This is personal. This is why you aren’t allowed to do personal. I fucked up huge, and it’s going to cost me. It’s already costing me. I’m nearly shaking with it.
“Is it just me, or is it the more time she spends here the more hood she gets?” says Bishop, bagging up the evidence.
“Suck a dick.”
“See!” he says, laughing “Max, my man, was she always like this?”
But of course there is no answer. There is no indication he hears anything that is said. Max shut down, shutting me out even further in the process.
Needing to get out of there I send Rafe a text asking for a pickup, letting the guys know to get Max patched up at his place, not the hospital. When he arrives minutes later, I look over at Max but he still doesn’t look back at me; he still refuses to see me. I suppose seeing the real me was too much for him, and if I’m being honest I can say that I don’t blame him, even if it tears me up inside.
“Be happy, Max,” is all I whisper as I walk out the door and away from him. Climbing into Rafe’s truck, I fill him in on what just happened, what needs to happen next, and why it’s time for me to call in the big guns. I can’t do this shit anymore. If tonight was anything to go by, I can’t do personal anymore, either, and I sure as fuck don’t trust the Detroit Police Department.
Honestly, I never did.
Once we reach the hotel I turn in my seat cock back and punch Rafe square in the nose. “Holy shit you hit me!” he screams while cupping his nose to staunch the bleeding.
“That was for not having Max covered,” I tell him to his face. Then cocking back I punch him square in the jaw. His head rocks back at impact then he screams again. “Jules! Fuck! What was that one for?”
“That was for not having Max covered.”
“You already said that!”
“Did I?” I ask climbing out. “Oops.”
“I will always come for you,” I growl into her ear while I pump inside of her. “No one will ever keep me from you.”
“Promise me,” she whispers. “Promise me, Max; say it.”
“I promise, Blue.”
“I believe you,” she says, digging her nails into my shoulders. “Now make me come.”
So I did.
She left.
Sitting here on Hank’s couch watching the two of them take care of the evidence, it hit me hard. She ended my nightmare for me and I just let her walk away. I’m man enough to admit I wasn’t strong enough to kill my father; it’s not as simple as you’d think it would be. The hate I felt toward him since he told me what he did to her put me in a really dark place. It’s so dark that I don’t know how to break free of it. All these years she loved me even with a demon for a father and didn’t once compare me to him. When Bishop kneels down in front of me it takes me a minute to focus on him. I don’t know if I’m in shock or if I’m going crazy, but fuck if I know what I feel except miserable because she left me. All before I could find my voice to come clean, apologize, thank her, then beg her.
“My man,” he says, hitting me in the knee to get my attention. “You with me right now?”
“I’m with you,” I say, looking up at him. “She left me.”
“Now ain’t the time, Max,” he says, standing up. “Needing to get you outta here, get patched up, and back to the club for an alibi. Cool? Got Rogan picking you in twenty, so you need to get your head right.”
“My head won’t be right until I talk to her.”
“Max,” he says, then nudges me harder. “Max! Look at me, man, that ain’t gonna happen. She did what she needed to do to keep you safe. Now you gotta get back to that club and stay that way, all right?”
When I say nothing Duffy comes in and grabs my shoulder. “She sacrificed everything for you, Max,” he says. “Don’t make her regret it. We don’t operate like this; it ain’t how it’s done. She did it so you would be safe. Get your ass back to that club, forget about us, and forget about her. For good.”
“You upset about old Hank over there?” asks Bishop, pointing to the sheets Hank’s wrapped in. “You pissed at her for doing what you should have done?”
“What? No,” I say, getting in his face. “Fuck, Hank, I want my god damn wife back!”
Pushing me back hard, Bishop gets between Duffy and me. “She ain’t your fucking wife no more, cockfucker,” he growls at me. “When you told her she wasn’t shit, you lost her. Does she still love you? Knowing her, probably, seeing as she just snapped your old man’s neck for you. But she don’t love you enough to take any more of your shit, and we love her too much to let you.”
“Get your shit,” says Bishop, pulling Duffy back. “And get the fuck outta here.”
“Hank put his hands on her,” I whisper. “He hurt my wife.”
“Wrong,” says Bishop. “Hank hurt Jules, and now Hank’s dead.”
Stumbling back, the full weight of my situation hits me. She put an end to his reign of terror and she did that for me. Fuck, they all did that for me because they love and trust her. Pushing the door open and falling onto the steps, I drop my head between my legs until Rogan pulls up, walks me to his truck, and drives off not saying a word.
What was there to say? I failed her again.
“Damn right you did.”
“I said that
out loud?”
“Jesus,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“He hurt her,” I tell him. “I never knew it; she never told me. Now he’s gone. No more rules, no more illegal shit, no more Blue.”
“Max,” he says, pulling into the alley behind my club. “Ain’t no perfect man, but how many times does she have to show you she loves you before you believe her?”
“What?”
“Jules,” he says, putting it in park and turning to me. “Always put you first. Settled for loving you from a distance, a distance you created. Waited for you, too. Came back to a place where she got nothing but shit to save you. Put it all on the line, let it ride for you. You can’t keep kicking her while she’s down. Imagine she’s feeling pretty low right about now. She stayed when she didn’t have to, to save a motherfucker who said he didn’t love her, regretted marrying her, and that he had a female on the side. Knowing that, she took on your old man anyway because you were in danger. You talk to her after? Explain things? Guessing no. Jules is solid, but she’s still a female; they can only take so much. She sound like a woman who deserves that?”
“No.”
“Fuck no,” he says. “She’s got a team, Max. That female runs a team of grown ass killers for the god damn United States government, but she said fuck it, my old man needs me, and came here to you instead. Look, I ain’t you, all right? You got history, I get it, but damn. How many times you gonna let other people make your decisions for you? Then the one time it counted, the one time you needed to keep her close, you cut her loose? Why’d you do her like that?”
“I wanted to keep her—”
“You run a night club,” he growls. “You ain’t a cop, and you sure as shit ain’t an agent for the government. How the fuck exactly were you gonna keep her safe?”
“I fucked up!” I yell. “I get it, god dammit! You win! All you motherfuckers win! You, Rafe, Duffy, Bishop, all of you! I’m not like you, never fucking will be, I get it! Jesus Christ I couldn’t even protect her from Hank! He raped my god damn wife! Should I not be fucking killing something right now? I just wanted her safe! If I could go back and change anything, don’t you think I would? Fuck, I’d be someone else if I could, because clearly she deserves better than my sorry ass!” Unlocking the door with my good arm, he stops me with a few words.
