Peck followed Luca’s car down the highway, taking the ramp towards the shipyard. His bike revved loudly as he raced after the car, unsure of what Luca’s motives were. Peck understood that Luca was using Alanna as bait for him. But now that he was just feet away, Luca didn’t seem to want him at all. It was like he was being reeled into something bigger. It was as if simply getting Peck into his clutches wasn’t enough. Luca intended to make him suffer. Luca didn’t want to make this easy on Peck. Meanwhile, a delicate life hung in the balance.
The car pulled down a dark isolated road that ran along the docks. Peck hung back a bit, watching carefully to see what Luca planned to do. The car began to slow as it pulled onto a grassy knoll overlooking the Delaware River. With his heart racing, Peck cut the engine and dismounted his bike. Walking down the long, abandoned road, Peck kept his eyes on Luca’s car as he silently ran towards it. Cutting the distance between himself and Luca, Peck was desperate to get Alanna out. But then, as the driver side door opened, Peck stopped dead in his tracks. Backing up, he hid in the tree line as he watched Michael climb out of the car with bated breath. A back door opened, and Peck’s stomach lurched as he watched Luca unfold to his full height from the car. Luca held a bloody rag to his neck as he glared at Michael. Luca shouted something over the hood of the car, just before bringing a cell phone to his ear. While Luca talked, peering out over the river, Michael walked around the car to the front passenger door. Gingerly Luca’s driver opened the door with a gentle click. Peering through the shadows, Peck watched as a body slumped out of the car and fell to the ground. With his heart in his throat, Peck stared at the body trying to determine who it was. Much to his relief, the deceased body was far too stocky to be Alanna.
Who the fuck is that?! Peck thought.
Peck watched as Michael began dragging the body to the water. Fire coursed through his veins as he watched the despicable act occur. Luca moved from the side of the vehicle as he watched Michael dispose of the body into the water. He shouted a few demands, keeping his back to the car.
Now. This is your only chance. Peck thought to himself.
Moving carefully and stealthily across the quiet road, Peck approached the back-driver’s side door giving Michael and Luca a wary glance. Moving as quietly as he possibly could, Peck lifted the handle of the car door and slowly opened the door. Peering into the car, Peck’s eyes fell upon Alanna’s body which laid rigidly still on the backseat of the car. Peck wasn’t sure at first if she was dead or alive. Her hair was strewn across her face and there was a faint trail of blood running down her neck. Peck’s heart panged as he looked down upon her, but then, just as he was beginning to panic that she very well may be dead, Alanna turned her head. With her hair falling to the wayside, Peck saw the puncture mark in Alanna’s neck from where Luca had jabbed her with the needle.
“No,” Peck gasped. “Please God no.”
His hands began to shake as he reached out to her. Jostling her, Peck whispered, “Alanna, you have to wake up! Lana, baby. Please wake up.”
His voice was on the verge of a sob, but he knew he had to hold it together. At that moment, Peck knew, he was their only chance for survival. He jostled her arm again, and Alanna opened up her eyes. Peck looked into the milky green irises, barely able to recognize the girl he loved so tremendously. This time Peck did cry, but he didn’t allow himself to succumb to a full break down. Reaching for Alanna, Peck wrapped his arms around her. Cradling Alanna in his arms, her face fell against his bare chest. Moving as quietly as he could, Peck ran from the car with Alanna in his arms. Michael had just finished dumping the body and as he and Luca turned around, they watched as Peck charged off with Alanna lying limp in his grasp. Luca’s eyes snapped upon Peck’s back.
Growling at Michael, Luca spat, “Shoot but not to kill. I need them both alive.”
Doing as he was commanded, Michael pulled out his gun and fired three shots into the night.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Peck continued to run at full throttle, his adrenaline rushing through him. He felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. He continued to run as the energy drained from him. He was becoming weak, but he kept a firm grip on Alanna. That is, until the floor seemed to give out from underneath his feet. Falling to the ground with a thud, Peck didn’t realize he had been shot until his face collided painfully with the dirt.
Cris stood toe to toe with Stitches as tensions rolled into a boil. Shooting insults at each other, a mob gathered around them, some loyal to Luca, others loyal to Alanna, Peck, Cris and his crew. Cris kept an iron jaw as he stared at Stitches, not breaking his icy gaze off of his face. The crowd closed in upon them, baiting on a fight.
“What’s she worth to ya?!” Stitches demanded to know as he smirked coldly at Cris. “You came all the way down here . . . What’s she worth to ya? Your life? Peck’s life?”
“Fuck you! Quit playing games before somebody gets hurt!” Cris spat.
“Oh, somebody’s gon’ get hurt alright,” Stitches spat. “You runnin’ with snitches and cowards!”
“This has nothing to do with her!” Cris yelled, his face red with anger.
“Don’t kid yourself, homey,” Stitches said coldly. “Raven has a purpose, a use, and when we’re done, maybe you’ll see your girl again . . . But if you ask me, a real man would’ve protected his girl.”
A cruel smile curled up from Stitches' mouth. Cris, however, snarled at the man standing before him. Rage quaked out of control in his body. Cris’s breath rushed from his mouth as he was left with sharp words on his tongue. Cris wasn’t interested in talking anymore. Stitch had flipped Cris’s switch. All calm had vanished, and now, standing before Stitch, was a teenage boy set to his breaking point. With quaking hands, Cris uttered one sharp word, before jumping into action.
“Motherfucker!”
Cris lunged at Stitches gripping his black t-shirt with one hand, he walloped his fist alongside his right jawline with his other. Punch after punch after punch, Cris didn’t let up. Through gritted teeth, Cris spat, “Tell me where the fuck she is!!!!!” Cris slammed Stitches up against the brick wall of the club. A trail of crimson spilled from Stitches' face while his face began to mottle from the impact of Cris’s hits. Stitches didn’t say anything as he began to fight back, slamming a fist into Cris’s gut. All around them, violence broke out, threats were tossed, and blood was drawn as the two sides went toe to toe. Charlie was defending himself against two of Luca’s guys, while Tony was holding his own against Angel. Rigo and Brian were tossing words back and forth, while Lev and his boys got into an all-out brawl with a dozen of Luca’s soldiers. As the melee ensued, the sound of sirens whirred into the night.
Cris punched Stitch again in the face, sending him flying backward. As some of Luca’s boys began to scatter at the sound of the approaching police cars, Cris gripped Stitch’s shirt and brought his face close to his.
“I ain’t leavin’ until you tell me where she is!!!”
With blood gushing from his nose and his right eyelid swollen shut, Stitches peered up at Cris and laughed harshly.
“You might not have a choice in the matter, bro . . .” Stitch said cryptically.
Cris eyed Stitches with a confused gaze, but before he could ask any questions. He was gripped from behind. Three of Luca’s boys pulled Cris away from Stitches, while a fourth snatched Cris’s baseball bat off the sidewalk. Cris stared at them with hostility, unable to see any of their faces due to the hoods that hung over their faces.
“Big and bad, huh bro?” One of the guys spat at Cris.
Panic raged through Cris’s body as he watched the guy swing the bat. The first few times he missed on purpose. It was a scare tactic. But the fourth time, the bat collided painfully with Cris’s right kneecap, shattering it on impact. He let out a muted scream as excruciating pain ripped through his body. Charlie and Tony peered up with horrified eyes. Seeing Cris being jumped, they left their spots and raced towards him, chasing off the guys that had held Cri
s down.
Cris was writhing in pain on the ground.
“Motherfuckers! Tell me where she is!” Cris demanded, howling at the top of his lungs. “Tell me where the fuck she is!!!!!!”
“You’re a stubborn motherfucker, aren’t you?!” the man with the bat yelled.
Charlie pushed one of the guys off of Cris, while Tony held a gun to the bat-swinger’s head. In a chilly voice, Tony spoke through his teeth.
“Where is she?” Tony said in barely more than a whisper.
Stitches remained silent as he took in the gravely serious look in Tony’s eyes. He wore the expression of a guy you did not want to cross, and that expression wasn’t a guise. Tony had no trouble standing up for the people he cared about. He had the track record to prove it. Stitches gulped down air as he peered at Tony with an expression of muted intimidation on his face. Tony was only becoming more incensed by Stitches' silence though. Cocking his head, Tony’s gaze hardened upon Stitches’ face. Lifting his eyebrows slyly, Tony took the safety off his gun with a click.
“Go ahead, dickweed. Try me.”
Stitches tried to back away from Tony. His fear was getting the best of him. Tony’s gaze didn’t falter.
“Where is she?” Tony asked again.
A breath ripped from Stitches’ mouth as he stared at Tony who was sliding the mouth of his gun down the length of Stitches’ face.
“Don’t make me ask again,” Tony said as he continued to glide the gun along Stitches' face. As the mouth of the gun was just over Stitches’ ear, Tony pulled back on the trigger.
Bang!
Stitches thought for sure he was a goner. He couldn’t hear anything but a sharp, hollow ring in his ear. His eyelids shuddered from the shock of the blast as the bullet careened just a half-inch from his head and through a small glass window in the wall of Luca’s club. Stitches began to freak out, his hands shaking, his eyes watering. Throwing his hands up in the air, he finally gave Tony an answer.
“All I know is that they’re takin’ her to Salem Point! That’s all I know! I swear!” Stitches shouted in a frantic voice.
“What’s in Salem Point?” Tony pressed.
“I don’t know! I don’t fuckin’ know!”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I ain’t!”
“If I find out you’re lying to me, you know what’s gonna happen.”
“Pop pop pop!” Torian spat. “He’s gonna smoke your ass!”
A squad car turned the corner slowly as the rest of the crowd dispersed. It didn’t matter which side of the fence they stood upon, nobody wanted to get arrested. Cris’s face grimaced as Tony and Charlie lifted him off the ground. He howled in agony as they moved him.
“Hang on, Cris,” Tony said as he lifted his brother. “It’s gonna be alright.”
“Leave me, go find her! I can get myself to a hospital!”
“We’re gonna go find Peck and Alanna,” Torian explained as he pointed to Brian and Lev. “Ton’, get ‘em to a hospital.”
Brian rushed across the now deserted street and ran to his truck. “T! Lev! C’mon . . . We gotta go find him!”
T ran off to the truck, but before he got in, he turned around and looked at Cris with a sympathetic gaze before climbing into the cab of Brian’s truck and slamming the door shut.
Lev climbed in the back, and Brian was right on his heels. Then, as he opened his door, he yelled at Tony, “C’mon . . . whaddya waiting for. Load him in the back. He’s gotta go to the hospital.
For a second there Tony assumed that it would be up to him to get Cris the help he so desperately needed. He was sharply reminded once again that friends don’t abandon each other in their hour of greatest need. Cris’s physical pain was great, but it was nothing compared to the mental anguish and despair that plagued Cris’s heart. The words that Stitches said to him would haunt him for the rest of his life.
A real man would’ve protected his girl, Cris thought, as Torian and Tony loaded him into the flatbed of Brian’s truck. As much as I hate to admit it, that fucker’s right. I should have protected her. Oh, my God, Alanna, please be alright. Please.
Cris’s sanity was hanging on by a thread.
As Brian’s engine roared to life, and Tony and Torian sat with Cris in the flatbed, Cris’s mind raged. His thoughts catapulted him to another place and time. To another day when he feared for Alanna’s safety. As the fog moved in, Cris quickly forgot all about his knee, as his mind sent him into an agonizing downward spiral.
A slow burn slinks under my skin, burning me from the inside out. It is a special form of hell. Alluring and intoxicating while stifling and drowning me all at once. My eyelids are like anvils. I am blinded. Incapable of opening my eyes. My skin itches, but it is a scratch that I cannot soothe. My mind is drowning under the power of the drug. My mind, which is always so busy, so erratic with thoughts and worries and ideas, is now a barren wasteland. I can feel thoughts trying to bubble up, but they never make it to the surface. Belladonna wants no parts of free-thinking. I feel like I am gasping for air, and no matter how hard I try to move my limbs, swim to the surface, the water above me is too heavy. The ocean in which I am drowning in is too deep. Powerful waves of intoxication roll through me, scorching me and soothing me with each passing second. It is a conflicting paradox, a state of erratic confusion, and as a wave rolls in once more, I am held under by the weight of the chemicals. Memories roll in. I remember swimming in the lake in the Poconos with Peck, Charlie and Nick as children. I recall yesterday in all its glory. I remember another time when waves of terror ripped through me. As dull as my mind is though, I convince myself . . . This will not be like last time. No. It mustn’t be like last time.
“Alanna,” Peck said in a desperate plea. He reached his hand out as he opened his eyes, his face caked with dirt. The road along the riverbank was silent. There was not another soul in sight, and the only sound Peck could hear were the crickets chirping loudly in the brush.
Peck felt disoriented and weak. He shivered as a coldness rushed through his veins. Then, all at once, the excruciating pain of his gunshot wound, gained Peck’s attention. Grimacing as his hand flew up to his shoulder, Peck covered the wound to prevent any more blood from slipping out.
“Alanna,” Peck called again.
Struggling to rise to his feet, a howl built in his lungs as he came to the realization of just how close he was to taking Alanna away from Luca’s greedy hold. The last memory Peck had of Alanna was her face resting against his chest, as he ran as fast as his body could carry them. But then, just as it seemed that escape was upon them, Luca put a sharp end to Peck’s plan.
“Alanna!!!!!!” Peck cried out, holding his shoulder as a painful grimace cracked upon his face.
Standing alone in the darkness, the only voice replying was his own echo. Peck’s heart fractured under the truth of the situation. The girl who had saved him from death time and time again was now in the hands of one of the most dangerous and lethal men in the state. Peck’s sanity spiraled out of control as he weighed all the different scenarios. That is when Peck recalled what Luca said. Shoot but don’t kill. Alanna is alive.
This small glimmer of hope was enough for Peck to push forward. Stumbling to his feet, Peck kept a firm hand over his shoulder. With a look of fierce determination in his eyes, and a gruesome snarl growing up his face, Peck heaved forward, vowing to return Alanna to safety.
Brian brought his truck to a jarring halt outside of Methodist Hospital in South End as Tony and Charlie jumped out of the flatbed. Gingerly, they helped Cris out as he groaned with pain. He had a deeply pained expression on his face. As soon as the tailgate was shut, Cris yelled at Torian, “Go on! Get out of here! Go find them!”
Charlie swallowed sharply as he looked at the terrible expression on Cris’s face. Not only was he in excruciating pain, but the mental anguish that Cris was facing was also nothing short of palpable.
“C’mon, Cris,” Charlie said. “Grab my shoulder.”
“We’re gonna get you in there,” Tony said. “It’s gonna be alright.”
But then, as they went through the automatic doors of the hospital, Cris spat, “I don’t give a fuck about my leg! She’s out there with a fuckin’ Kingpin and there ain’t shit I can do about it! Who cares about my stupid leg!” A cry ripped from Cris’s mouth as Tony and Charlie helped him inside the hospital. As they entered the hospital waiting room, Brian hit the gas pedal of his truck and veered out of sight. As Brian turned the corner of Broad and Jackson Streets, a figure emerged from the shadows of the hospital. Hunched over, with his hand preventing his wound from bleeding out, Peck pressed forward with a look of fierce determination in his gaze. With great exertion, Peck heaved forward, disappearing behind the glass doors of Methodist Hospital.
The wheels of Brian’s truck screeched loudly as he weaved through the streets of South End, keeping an eye open for any signs of Peck, Alanna or Luca. Torian sat in the shotgun seat with a mean expression pouring from his gaze. He was thirsty for the moment when he could shake up Luca, teach him a lesson all of his own. Torian had a vendetta of his own with Luca and his crew. Torian’s sister had died by Luca’s hand, and now with Peck and Alanna in danger, Torian was fit to be tied. While his rage was all-encompassing, another emotion fought for attention. As he peered out the passenger side window, worry gleamed out from Torian’s dark eyes. Torian needed to know that Peck and Alanna were safe. Knowing that Alanna was in the grips of the Kingpin, Torian had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. Also knowing that Peck went after him guns blazing unsettled Torian because he knew that Luca wanted to reel Peck back in. Torian knew that Peck could more than take care of himself, and he was most concerned for Alanna. I hope that Alanna doesn’t meet the same sharp end as my sister, my Latasha, faced when Luca set his sights on her. Tapping his fingertips against his jeans, Torian cast a nervous glare out the truck window.
Web of Lies Page 34
