I shook my head. “That’s not the fuckin’ deal, man,” I said loudly. “Peyton’s supposed to come and talk with me.”
The guy looked at me like he had no idea what I was saying. “Come with me,” he repeated.
“Fuck!” I cried out. He gave me an alarmed glance and pulled me inside, putting a finger over his lips and blowing quietly. Inside my head, my thoughts swirled around until I was panicking. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the plan at all. The plan was for Peyton meet me at the door, and then Nefertiti was going to come up and shoot him in the arm to weaken him. Then, the two of us were going to drag him inside and make him confess to everything. On video. Then, we were going to take turns killing him. It was as simple as that, and something that we’d both agreed on.
I flashed back to her cool demeanor in the limo. Was she fucking with me after all? Was there something really bad going on? I still had no way of knowing, but every second that the guy dragged me farther and farther from the door, I felt like something bad was going to happen. Warning bells clanged inside my head. The guy grabbed a hold of my shirtsleeve and yanked so hard that I almost stumbled and fell. When I got to my feet, I looked around and saw that he’d dragged me into the main part of the warehouse.
Peyton was sitting behind a massive oak table, with his hands spread out. He saw me and broke out into a massive grin. What is it with these psycho fucking gangsters? I thought to myself as I held up the package of heroin.
“Good to see you, Chase,” Peyton said with a big grin. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t show!” He held up his machete. The blade gleamed in the few bits of sunlight that filtered in through the rafters. “What a horrible thing that would have been!”
“Right,” I said warily. “Look, I have the stuff. What else do you need?”
Peyton grinned. “I need some help, Chasey boy,” he said. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with Net all day. Why don’t you help me call him?”
I shook my head. “No way, man,” I said. “That’s your fuckin’ game, not mine.”
Peyton laughed. “You’re fuckin’ retarded,” he said. “Don’t you get that you have to help me? Or I’ll kill you!” He tossed his head back, opening his mouth and showing a full array of teeth. From where I was standing, I could smell his breath. It smelled like whiskey and pussy.
“Fine,” I spat. “Get out your phone and I’ll call him. What do you want me to say?”
Peyton wagged a finger in the air. “Chasey, that’s not how this works,” he chastised me. “Where’s your phone?”
My mouth went dry; it was back in the limo with Nefertiti. “I don’t have it,” I said gruffly. “I lost it yesterday. Yesterday was a pretty bad fuckin’ day for me, all in all,” I said. “You of all people should remember that, Peyton.”
Peyton laughed. “You expect me to believe that?” To the thugs, he snapped his head towards me and said, “Search him!”
I barely had a second to defend myself before his thugs came at me like well-oiled machines. One of them yanked the gun out of my waistband and waved it around in the air, crowing triumphantly. The other patted me down and stuck his hands in my pockets, grabbing and groping the inside of my thighs to see if I had something taped there. It felt remarkably like being violated by Nefertiti.
“Chasey, what’s this about you not having your phone?”
Just as I was about to shake my head, there was a deafening roar of gunfire. I dropped to the floor and tried to wriggle my way to the center of the room to grab Peyton, but a shot landed so close to my head that my ears started to ring and I froze. Blinking, I looked around quickly and saw Nefertiti and her thugs at the door. They barely seemed to notice me as they advanced on Peyton, carrying AK-47s and firing them as rapidly as possible.
The sound was enough to make me pass out, that’s how loud it was. Slowly, I crawled to the opposite site of the room. Just when I was almost to safety, I heard Nefertiti cackling. Quickly, I got to my knees and turned my head towards her. She was standing next to Peyton with the barrel of her gun pressed into his chest. All I could register on his face was shock and horror; it was like he couldn’t believe this had happened. The whole scene: bullets everywhere, whizzing past my head at a mile per minute, plus Nefertiti and Peyton in some kind of vicious dance. He tried to swipe her out of the way and put her in a headlock, but she fell to the ground and grabbed him around the hips. As she fell, she pulled him down with her and rolled on top of him. Peyton was struggling to get up but she delivered a swift roundhouse kick to his head, knocking him back.
“Chase!” one of her guards yelled. “Move! I’ve got a clear shot!”
“Don’t shoot!” I cried, moving towards him. Suddenly, he had a panicked look on his face. Just as I looked down, sharp pain stabbed me in the arm. I cried out and held my arm up to see a bloom of crimson developing all over my sleeve. Fuck!
The adrenaline was too much for me. I crashed to the ground and watched as Nefertiti punched Peyton squarely in the face. He cried out and blood spurted everywhere, making a slick on the floor. She took out a small, silver handgun from her pocket and pressed it against his throat. She smiled a wicked smile from ear to ear, and then pulled the trigger.
The shock of the gun firing got me to my senses. Nefertiti had barely turned towards me when I was on my feet, running out into the night.
The last thing I heard behind me was someone screaming my name before I ducked into the trees. My arm hurt like hell, but I kept running. Just as I was about to pass out from loss of blood, Lacey’s face popped into my head.
Lacey, I’m dying, I thought. I’m dying, but at least you’re safe.
Chapter Thirty Eight
When I came to, I was in an unfamiliar bright room with lots of noise and too many people. My whole body hurt; it felt like I’d been beaten with a crowbar. I struggled to open my eyes.
“Where am I?” I croaked in a dazed voice. “What’s going on? What happened to me?”
An unfamiliar and butch woman wearing green scrubs came over to me and stared at some machine next to my bed that was making an infernal racket. “Detroit Grace,” she said shortly. “You were shot. Don’t you remember that?”
I shook my head. “Barely,” I admitted. “What happened?”
She pursed her lips. “You don’t remember?”
“Not at all,” I said sincerely. The woman glared at me and suddenly I wanted to punch her for treating me like garbage. As the room around me came into focus, I narrowed my eyes and winced. The walls of the hospital were painted a putrid yellow-green that looked like the woman’s scrubs. The lights about me were a harsh fluorescent, like the kind of thing you see in old sci-fi movies. I rubbed my hands over my eyes and face and discovered that even the ends of my hair hurt. It was incredible. I’d never been in this much pain in my life. I had a hard time believing it was just from the bullet I’d taken.
“Where was I shot?”
The woman frowned at me, then grabbed my arm and held it in front of my face. Pain blossomed in my limb and I cried out in agony.
“Right there,” she said smugly. “You should thank your lucky stars that someone above thought it fit to save another loser.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady,” I said finally. “I had nothing to do with it.”
She smirked. “And yet you know what ‘it’ is, don’t you?” The doctor laughed mirthlessly and continued. “I think you’ll be pleased to know that Nefertiti Davis was apprehended moments after your prone body was discovered by the cops. Seems someone had the presence of mind to call the police when they knew a huge deal was about to go down.”
I swallowed. Nefertiti, arrested? It made me chuckle. The doctor glanced at me suspiciously. “I’m sorry,” I said though a hail of laughter. It felt both good and immensely painful to laugh; my whole body seized and tensed with the effort. “It’s just, you have no idea how interesting it is for me to hear that.”
The
doctor narrowed her eyes. “Your boss got taken, and you don’t even care?”
I shook my head. “Lady, you don’t get this. Stay out of my fuckin’ business,” I snapped. “You have no idea who I am.”
She looked at me smugly. “You’re Chase McIntyre, ex-con,” she said. “I know that much. You were found without a wallet, but there was ID nearby that matched your description.”
I flashed back to those asshole thugs in Nefertiti’s hideout yanking my pants down and going through my shit. At the time, losing my wallet hadn’t seemed nearly as important as losing my gun, or getting groped by some crazy gangster bitch.
“Yeah,” I said, looking away. “I lost it. Sorry.”
The doctor rolled her eyes. “Probably too busy thinking about crank,” she replied. “I bet that’s it. You detoxing?”
I shook my head. “I don’t fuck with that shit anymore,” I said. “I’ve been clean for a long time.”
“Good for you,” she snapped. “By the way, do you know a Laurie?”
I shook my head. Then it dawned on me. “Lacey? What the fuck? Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
The doctor gave me a strange look. “No,” she said slowly. “She’s fine. She was here to see you, but you didn’t wake up in time to catch her. She spent the whole night sitting by your side and crying.”
A weird feeling washed over me. It was desire and want and tenderness all mixed together, and I had to shake my head to clear it rapidly. “She’s my friend,” I said slowly. “Did she say that she was coming back?”
“She said that she was working or something, and that she’d stop by after her shift.”
“Did I come in with a cell phone?”
The doctor blinked. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I can go check your personal possessions, though,” she added. “Can you wait or do you need it right now?”
Considering how bitchy she’d been before, I was pretty impressed. “Now,” I barked. The doctor looked angry. “Sorry,” I amended. “Whenever you have time, but as soon as possible. Please.”
Her expression softened. “Wait a second,” she told me. “I’ll have one of my interns bring it in.”
The doctor breezed out in a cloud of disinfectant-smelling perfume. It felt like an excruciatingly long time before a younger, cuter doctor came back in. She was carrying a white plastic basket and she dug through it, finally finding my phone and putting it in my lap.
“Now, you’re not supposed to strain yourself,” she said carefully. “I’ll have to stay here and watch you talk, okay?”
“Can’t I just keep it in my room?”
The doctor shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, blushing. She bit her lower lip in a way that reminded me of Lacey and suddenly, my loins were on fire. She leaned closer and whispered confidentially, “Sir, I have to inform you that this case is being treated as criminal. We have to take all precautions since you were brought in with a gunshot wound. Once we found out how and why you were shot, you may be free to go. But right now, we’re working with the authorities.”
“Shit,” I muttered softly. “Fuck.”
The doctor looked upset. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said in a more professional voice. “It’s our policy to inform you, that’s all. I’m afraid there’s nothing else I can do at this point.”
I closed my eyes and let my head flop back against the hospital bed. Pain shot through my body and I winced. “Can I have some medication?”
The woman bit her lip. “Sir, that’s the other thing. Since you were found at the site of a massive opiate drug deal, we cannot give you any medication right now. If you’d like me to bring you a packet of ibuprofen, I could do that, but I’m not allowed to give you anything stronger.”
If I’d had a gun, I would have shot myself. “Fine,” I snapped. “I want to use this now.”
The doctor shifted from foot to foot. “As I said sir, I have to stay with you,” she said. “Would you like me to wait behind this curtain?”
I rolled my eyes. Even the smallest gesture of contempt filled my body with torment. “Fine,” I said. With shaking hands, I dialed Lacey’s number and hit ‘call.’ It rang and rang and rang and eventually cut to voicemail. In irritation, I threw my phone at the ground. The screen had already been cracked but this final act sent it shattering into tiny pieces of plastic. I laughed until it hurt my chest too much to keep going.
“Sir,” the doctor said. Caution was evident in her thin voice. “Are you okay? Is something the matter?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said sarcastically. “I’m in a lot of pain and I can’t get any good drugs, my girlfriend isn’t answering the phone, I’m shot, I’m possibly going back to prison, and I don’t even fucking remember how I got here!”
The doctor looked taken aback. “Sir, that certainly is a lot,” she said. “And you know, we may be able to give you some pain meds. We’ve tested your blood for drug content, and once the tests come back negative, we’ll be able to help you feel a little better. How does that sound?”
I nodded. “Great,” I muttered. “Just fuckin’ great.”
“Good!” the doctor chirped. “I’ll go check on those, and I’ll be back really soon!”
I closed my eyes in defeat. Even with my lids shut, the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling penetrated into my skull. Everything was blindingly painful. I knew that it would be ages, probably hours, before the doctor returned. Any time someone said they’d be back soon, I knew it might be days before I saw them again. When it came to time management, hospitals sucked.
I looked at the pieces of my shattered phone on the floor and cursed myself for not being able to withstand the urge to destroy whatever I had in my hands at the time. And ‘my girlfriend’? Why the fuck had I said that? I wasn’t Lacey’s boyfriend. But all the same, thinking about Lacey made me feel a little better. I pictured the concern written on her pale, heart-shaped face, her grey eyes wide with love. I knew that we didn’t have any business being together. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t honestly miss her sometimes. I imagined being in her apartment, with her sweet smell all over, and I felt a twitch between my legs. As my cock started to stiffen, I groaned. Just like everywhere else on my body, it hurt a lot. But hey, maybe I was lucky. At least I still had my cock.
Peyton dead. Nefertiti arrested. Lacey at my side all night. What the fuck was going to happen now?
Chapter Thirty Nine
Lacey
Anne looked at me smugly. “I heard the news about your convict boyfriend, Lacey,” she said just loud enough for Mark to hear her. “He was arrested and taken to the hospital last night.”
“He wasn’t arrested,” I said sharply. “He was found with a wound to his arm. So of course he was hospitalized. And he’s not my boyfriend.”
Anne raised her eyebrows at me. She looked at Mark and shrugged and he looked quickly away. Ever since I’d stood him up for dinner, he hadn’t bothered to ask me out again. Instead, he was going for Anne. And she seemed to be loving every minute of it. The only confusing part was why she was so hell-bent on still making me miserable.
“I’m leaving soon,” I said.
Anne nodded. “Going to the hospital?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No,” I lied. “I’m going home.”
Mark watched me with big, sad puppy eyes. I had to look away. I hated feeling like I’d hurt him, but how many more times could I have put him off before he really understood? And of course, I hadn’t planned on standing him up. Chase had just showed up. And Chase was more important.
As I got to the door of Dawning Point, I spun on my heel. “Hey, Anne,” I called out. “You know what? He actually is my boyfriend. I didn’t want to tell you because you obviously think he’s a thug, but he’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He treats me very well.”
Anne stared at me with her mouth hanging open. “Whatever,” she muttered. “Bye, Lacey.”
The way she said goodbye to me almost felt like a real goodbye, and not a see you later. I swal
lowed hard. I wondered if I’d ever come back to this place. My singing career was going better than expected and it did pay a lot more than working here. I loved being around kids, but I was starting to wonder if it was really for me. Maybe I could be a singer full-time. Maybe I could even go back to school and get a voice degree. The future didn’t seem like one straight line anymore. After meeting Chase, it was like everything branched out in separate directions.
I drove to Detroit Grace with my foot to the pedal. Maybe today they’d be able to give Chase some real drugs. I’d felt so horrible after leaving last time; he was clearly in agony, even when passed out. It had hurt me to see him looking so vulnerable and alone.
Lucky: The Irish MC Page 45
