HANDS OFF MY BRIDE

by Claire St. Rose

  He reached behind him and felt for Dakota’s hand, it was warm, and shaking slightly and he enveloped it with his own. He crouched low, pulling Dakota with him and quickly jogged from the building to a low cement wall under the cover of darkness. It had been a long time since Adam had been in a position like this, lurking in the shadows, advancing on his enemies, but his body was well trained and it remembered. His senses were on high alert, hearing everything, his brain quickly filtering through it, separating the sounds of the world around him birds, small animals, far away traffic, from his more immediate concerns, close vehicles, footsteps, guns being loaded. His eyes were wide open, his heart beating steady and strong. He was always aware of where Dakota was and what she was doing. Her safety came first, far before his own.

  He looked at Dakota, making eye contact, steadying her with his gaze, before looking over the cement barrier at the people not far from them. He pulled up his binoculars and one by one checked the faces. There was Lance and two other plain-clothed guys, clearly hired by the Soul Stealers, not yet fully-fledged members. Next were the Stealers themselves, tough-looking guys in leather jackets standing with their arms crossed. There was one older man who seemed to be giving instructions to the others; they were all nodding in agreement at whatever the man was saying. Adam took his time, memorizing each face as it appeared in his views, and then he got to the scrawniest looking member and he held back a gasp. It was Tommy Riser, a man Adam knew.

  He placed a finger over his mouth, the signal for quiet, and handed Dakota the binoculars. He watched as she carefully surveyed the crowd and then ducked back down, giving him the binoculars back. She shrugged and shook her head, telling him she didn’t know anyone. But Adam wasn’t worried; he knew what to do. He jerked his head to the right and started back to the car, opening and closing the doors silently.

  “I don’t know who any of those people are,” Dakota said from behind her mask.

  “I do, and I have plan,” Adam said. He started the car, leaving the lights off and slowly and carefully left the docks behind. Once they were back on the main street he removed his mask and Dakota did the same, carefully putting them back in the black canvas bag.

  Adam called Joey and waited impatiently as the phone rang.

  “What’s the word boss?” Joey asked.

  “You remember Tommy Riser?” Adam asked.

  “That tweaker? Last I heard he was in jail.”

  “Well, I just saw him by the docks. He’s out and I need to speak with him privately. Anyone know where he’s staying?”

  “I can find out. I’ll text it to you.”

  “Good, and up the protection on John Kane. I want eyes on him twenty-four seven. Something’s up, don't’ know yet, but should know soon.”

  “Copy. He’s set to be released tomorrow morning. We still good on that?”

  “Yeah, send two guys to triple check the house and make sure everything is clean.”

  “It’s done, and I’ll text you that address. Won’t take me long to find out.”

  Adam hung up the phone and continued to drive north, waiting for the address from Joey.

  “Are you going to fill me in?” Dakota asked.

  “One of those guys on the docks was Tommy Riser. He used to work for Scarred Angels, was trying to become a full time member. But then he got into meth and couldn’t get back out. We caught him pimping out his girlfriend who was a sister to a full member. It got bad, the guy almost killed Tommy, but we stopped it. We put the sister into rehab and kicked Tommy out. Last I heard he had been arrested for robbing a corner store, but clearly he’s out now.”

  “And working for the Soul Stealers?” Dakota asked.

  “Clearly,” Adam said as his phone buzzed, he glanced down at it and saw an address not far from where they were. “I think I should drop you off at home for this next part.”

  “No!” Dakota interrupted him. “This is my life and my father’s life. I’m not going to sit at home and hope that nothing happens. I can do this. I can help you.”

  “Fine, but you do what I say, no questions, no hesitations.”

  “Agreed,” Dakota said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Bad neighborhood was an understatement. The streets around the Black Mark had been bad, but Tommy Riser’s street was terrible. The houses on the block were all in various states of falling down, some with roofs and walls collapsed. There were no lights on in any of the houses, but people sat on their stoops, smoking something that was neither cigarettes nor weed. Dakota was scared, acutely aware that this was an unsafe place. Adam had offered to take her to his house. He had told her a dozen times she didn’t need to do this. But Dakota knew she was strong enough. Now she needed to prove it.

  Recidivism rates were high in the city of Philadelphia, and Dakota knew it was because ex-cons had a hard time finding work and a place to live. Not having those two things were potential parole violations, and looking at Tommy’s chipped and peeling outer walls, she wondered what it would be like to call a place like that home. Adam parked a few houses away from Tommy’s, the Prius looking strange on the dilapidated city block.

  Once out of the car, Dakota hugged herself with her arms. It was dark, most of the streetlights had burnt out and not been replaced. It was too quiet, as if people had fallen silent at Dakota and Adam’s arrival. She knew there were people around, but they made no sounds. It was unnerving. She felt exposed and out of place, out of her depth. Adam started down the street and Dakota followed close behind, keeping her eyes to the ground. They had taken their masks off, and were carrying them in their pockets. Adam had a crowbar tucked up one sleeve and Dakota could see the hard metal where it rested in his hand.

  Once at Tommy’s door, Adam looked up and down the street, making sure no one was out. Then, using his body to block the view as best he could, he let the crowbar slip down his arm and used it to quickly pry apart the weak lock holding Tommy’s door closed.

  The door open, Adam and Dakota quickly snuck inside, Adam closing the door as best he could behind them. Dakota resisted the urge to gag as she looked around the apartment. Dirty, half-empty takeout containers littered the floor along with cigarette butts, chicken bones, and used napkins. There was a bare futon mattress against one wall covered in stains. Roaches crawled underfoot and she could hear the movements of rats and mice in the walls. There were burn holes and the lingering scent of stale cigarette smoke was all around them.

  “Put your mask on and stand in the corner,” Adam ordered. “Don’t use my name or yours. Don’t give away anything that could let him know who you are.”

  “What about you?” Dakota asked.

  “He’s knows me. He’s going to know my voice. But I’ve got a plan, so trust me and do as I say.”

  Dakota nodded and slipped the mask over her face and then they waited. There was nowhere to sit, or at least no where Dakota wanted to sit. This place made her feel so sad. Who was this person who was forced to live like this, whose addiction had brought him to such a terrible and lonely existence? She wished she could have helped him, kept him from ever even getting to this place.

  They heard a car pull up to the house and the sound of the car door opening and closing. Tommy was home. Dakota retreated to a corner while Adam positioned himself by the door, his hands in a fighting stance, but his gun was still tucked away in his holster. She heard Tommy walk up the stairs and reach for the door handle. As the door swung open, Adam reached out and grabbed Tommy by the collar of his thin t-shirt, pulling him into the room and then slamming him back into the wall, holding him there by his throat.

  “Don’t make a sound,” Adam said.

  Tommy Risen looked rough. His hair was a long tangled mess on his head, his face pasty and covered in pockmarks and scars. He was terribly thin, like a tall reed that had been plucked from the water. When he opened his mouth, his teeth were stained brown and green and his yellowed eyes were wide with fear.

  “Adam, man I didn’t do anything. I n
ever told no one nothing about Scarred Angels,” Tommy whispered desperately.

  “You working for the Stealers now?” Adam growled.

  Tommy’s eyes scanned the room and fell on Dakota. He looked directly into her eyes and she almost had to step back from the fear she saw there.

  “What was I supposed to do? You kicked me out. I went to jail. Won’t nobody give me work other than the Stealers.”

  “John Kane, who ordered the hit?”

  “I don’t know. I swear it. Don’t nobody know. Most of the Stealers don’t even know.”

  “When are they going to attack him next?”

  “I don’t know,” Tommy said. Adam brought his hand back and made a fist, slamming it into the wall next to Tommy’s head, making a large dent in the ancient plaster. Dakota jumped at the fury behind Adam’s gesture, at the brute strength he showed. “I swear it man. I really do. I don’t know. But I know that the Stealers have been fucking this up big time. The next hit needs to be done right. They hired a pro, a real professional to do it. The backer paid for him. The Stealers are just going to help with transpo.”

  “When?” Adam said.

  “I don’t know man. They ain’t using me for that shit. They think I’m weak, and I am Adam. I don’t know anything.” This time Adam’s first hit Tommy square in his stomach and the man doubled over and gasped for breath.

  Dakota started forward, her instincts kicking demanding she stop Adam, to help the man in front of her in pain. But she had promised to do what Adam said, to wait and be quiet, and so she took a step back away from Tommy.

  “I swear I don’t know anything, please, please,” Tommy begged, doubled over, drool falling from his mouth onto the dirty floor below him. Adam lifted him back up and punched him again, mercilessly, Tommy sobbed out and clutched his stomach.

  “Tell me something, Tommy, something about the buyer or the hit. You know something.”

  “They hired a pro, that’s it. I don’t know. The Stealers sent us guys home, said we were worthless trash and they had a pro and they didn’t want us messing with their shit no more. That’s all I got, Adam. I swear it.” He sounded so desperate and sad, lonely and terrified. He was so pitiful in his disgusting home in his terrible neighborhood. He had no one to look after him, no one to help him. Adam reared his hand back and Dakota couldn’t help herself.

  “No,” she said sternly from behind him. Adam turned, one hand still in a fist in front of Tommy, the other secure around Tommy’s throat. He looked at her, his eyes fierce and dark, his face twisted into a dangerous scowl. Dakota wanted to take a step back away from Adam. He looked dangerous, like the gang member he was. He was so strong and fit next to the weak Tommy that it seemed ridiculous that the two of them were the same species. For the first time, Dakota was scared, but not scared of the situation, but of Adam, of the darkness and fury she saw in his eyes.

  Adam looked at Dakota, the animal snarl still on his face. Dakota wanted to look away, to run away, but she ordered herself to stay where she was. Through the holes in her mask she looked at him, silently she begged him for restraint and mercy. Slowly his eyes softened, he let his hand drop, and he released Tommy who fell to the floor in a sniveling pile of tears.

  “I’m sorry, Adam,” he said, openly weeping. “I shouldn’t have done that to that girl. The drugs man, they get me so bad I can’t help myself.”

  “Get out of town. I want you far, far away. Other side of the country far.” From his pocket he pulled out a roll of bills and threw them down at Tommy. He then grabbed Tommy by his hair and tilted his head up so they were looking at each other. “This money’s a gift Tommy. You tell no one I was here. You take this money, you buy a bus ticket, and you go. If I find out you’re still in this city, it’s gonna be bad, Tommy. You understand?”

  “I’ll leave, Adam. I swear I will. You’ll never see me again.” His hands had eagerly grabbed the money and he was holding it tightly to his chest. “I’ll leave tonight. I’ll go straight, never come back,” he kept repeating himself as Adam backed away.

  He took Dakota by the elbow and led her to the door, keeping his body between her and Tommy who was still weeping on his knees on the floor, holding the money.

  They hurried down the street and got into her car, peeling out of the neighborhood quickly as Dakota took the mask off her face. They drove in silence. Adam kept a stern look on his face and his eyes on the road. Dakota looked at him, but he didn’t look at her. His entire body seemed tense and strained, like an animal about to pounce. Carefully Dakota reached out with her hand and touched his, folding her small hand around his large one. At the first touch Adam flinched, but Dakota kept going, feeling his firm hand beneath her own.

  In many ways, this was her fault. She was the one who needed protection; she was the one who had pushed Adam to investigate. She didn’t want him to feel like what he had done was wrong. In a perfect world, there would have been no need for violence, but this wasn’t a perfect world; it was a dangerous one. Finally Adam let his gaze leave the road for a second, his dark eyes looking for hers. He glanced at her, his eyes a mixture of sadness and worry that broke her heart. She wanted to rescue him. She could; she knew that. She could put the both of them on a private plane and fly to a place where no one would ever find them. They could spend their lives sipping cool drinks on a private beach somewhere. But it was only a fantasy. Dakota could never leave her family, or her work, and neither could Adam. They were people with connections, they cared for others, and they could never abandon the ones they loved.

  As their eyes met, Dakota smiled at him. Wrapped up in that smile was forgiveness and understanding. She wasn’t afraid of him. She didn’t think he was a monster. She thought he was her savior, someone she could always depend on. Finally, Adam looked back at the road, but allowed himself to relax into his seat as they continued to drive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  She had seen him. She had seen him hit that excuse for a man. She had seen him do it and still she took his hand. She didn’t shy away from him. She didn’t look at him with fear. Adam didn’t know how far he would have gone if Dakota hadn’t stopped him. Tommy Riser had been putty in his hands. Adam could have obliterated him, but Dakota had made the right call. Tommy didn’t know anything. No one, not even the Soul Stealers, would have trusted that guy with any real information.

  What would happen when she discovered what else he had done? What his past was? There was so much he hadn’t told her, so much he never wanted her to know. She looked at him like he was her savior, but she didn’t understand that he was no savior; he was a muscle for hire and sometimes he worked for bad people. Adam could never deny his past. It was what had brought him to her. It had built up Scarred Angels and created a legitimate business. His history had propelled him to Dakota Kane; it had made him who he was, a person she liked, and a person she trusted.

  A professional hit man was dangerous business. If one man got it in his head to kill another no amount of security would save the hit. There would always be a weak point, a high vantage place a sniper could take advantage of, peer through his scope and end another man’s life from a hundred feet away. Adam didn’t know how to save John Kane, but he needed to find out. If John died, Dakota would be next, and Adam couldn’t live if anything happened to her. He needed to cut the snake off at its head. He needed to find out who was ordering the hit. But the men in police custody weren’t talking and the Soul Stealers were at least smart enough to avoid saying their backer’s name.

  The sun was rising over the river, reds and oranges bleeding out into the darkness, the light coloring everything it touched. It had been a long night, a very long night and what did they have to show for it? The same story told from multiple vantage points. The Soul Stealers had been hired to off the Kanes, they had failed, and now a professional hit man had entered the game. But no one knew who had hired the hit man or when he would attack.

  “When he’s discharged,” Dakota said.

  Adam
heard her, her voice drifting through his tired mind. “What?” He asked, looking over at her.

  She was still wearing the dirty clothes he had given her, her hair was still a mess, and she still wore no makeup. But she still looked so lovely in the morning light that Adam was taken aback. The light played on her skin and against the dark hairs on her to create a halo from the morning’s light. He still didn’t understand who could want to kill this woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she was kind, as well. She had devoted her life to charity, to giving back; she was truly selfless and some monster wanted her dead because her father had a lot of money.

  “They’re going to attack when he’s discharged. It makes the most sense. In the hospital and at home he’ll be under tight security. But in the car ride from the hospital to the home, he’s vulnerable.”

  “When is he being discharged?” Adam asked. He knew she was right; now he needed to figure out what to do.