by W Winters
Some hit the car. I can hear them crunch into the metal. It pings and some bullets ricochet. Bullets hit the house Eli was looking at, the brick splintering and chips falling past the porch light as if snow is falling on this cold summer night.
Everything happens in slow motion as I peek up, the back of my head slamming into Eli’s chest as he fires at the car again, telling me to stay down, but I won’t. I need to know what’s going on. I keep low, but I refuse to cover my head and not find out what’s going on, so I can prepare myself if I have to.
There are four men in the car. I can see them clearly even though they’re dressed in all black and hoodies cover their faces. Two are still firing at the building, rapidly pulling the triggers. Men from the building are firing back. Bullet casings hit the ground and the tinkling distracts me as another round of bullets comes closer to us, aimed at another house with men in those windows firing too. We’re only separated from the car by a white picket fence that offers no protection and maybe three feet in a yard of grass.
The other two men who were in the car run as I take in the scene. Both of them run down the street to flee although they turn and fire, hiding behind cars and the brick fence. They’re running closer to us.
I don’t know the car they came from. I don’t know the men, but one of them running falls instantly, screaming in agony and grabbing his leg on the sidewalk, the bright red shining brightly as he’s bathed in the streetlight.
Bang.
He’s silenced and goes still. My heart races, my pulse thrumming so hard I can barely hear the gunshots anymore.
The smacking of shoes carries down the street louder than the gunshots.
“Stay quiet,” Eli tells me, intent on hiding as the fucker who’s running tries to get away.
He’s going to let him get away.
Anger and rage like I’ve never felt before war inside of me and it burns. It burns too bright. It burns too hot and I can’t stand it.
I don’t even know it’s my own scream as I rip the gun from Eli unexpectedly and run down the street toward the coward who fired at me and the men protecting me. The coward who hid and waited to attack me. I won’t fucking let him run.
I won’t let him get away. I fucking refuse.
My feet slam so hard on the ground that I feel the pain spike through my thighs. He’s only feet away from me and running faster, but he turns to fire at the building again, he slows and turns and that gives me a chance. With a deep intake of the cold air that pains my lungs, I lunge at him, seeing nothing but red.
His head crashes on the cement sidewalk and I hear his gun fall into the street and sounds like it hits metal… maybe a gutter. I didn’t recognize him farther away and I don’t know him now that I’m close up either. I don’t know who he is other than someone who attacked us.
Even as the metal slams into his skull, I don’t hear the gunshots stop. Even as the blood splatters onto my face, the heat of it nothing compared to the raging burn that flows through my own blood, I don’t hear Eli yelling for me.
I don’t stop, I can’t make myself stop pummeling his flesh with the butt of the gun. I can’t even see what I’m doing with the tears flowing down my face. I try punching him with the gun held in my hand and the metal clashes against the thin skin over my knuckles. It hurts, I know it does, but that only fuels me to do it again.
The footsteps are loud and they’re coming closer, but I can still feel the man beneath me shoving me away. His hands pushing against my chest, my face, anywhere until they stop to cover his face.
I pause for only a second and it’s a second too much as he reaches for the gun. Panicking, I lean forward, head-butting him and crashing my forehead against his nose. He screams out, but he doesn’t stop.
He’s still trying to reach for his gun and so I whip the butt of the gun in my hand down hard against his throat and his hot blood bubbles up from his lips as he coughs.
Strong hands grip my shoulders and then my arms, but I kick out, desperate to connect with the fucker who dared to wage war with men protecting me.
My left shoe hits his chin and his head snaps backward, bashing against the cement. Everything in my mind becomes a fog as Eli holds me close to him, telling me to calm down and dragging me away. All I can see is that man running away, getting away without any consequences while they escort me back, through the yards and straight back to where we came from.
It all happened so fast that I’m still breathing chaotically and shaking when Eli and another man, who helped him rip me away, bring me inside.
“Get her inside.” I hear Eli’s words, but they’re slurred as I struggle to breathe.
The air isn’t cold anymore. Nothing is cold. It’s all hot and I feel like I’m suffocating.
The second the bright light of the foyer hits me, I shove them away. I don’t want to be touched, I can’t be touched right now.
I refuse to talk to them, to listen to them telling me to stop and calm down.
Calm down? How can I calm down when this is what my life is?
“I’m tired of taking orders!” is all I can yell out, my voice raw from screaming. The memory of what I’ve done seeps in slowly as I rock on the floor. I was screaming. I didn’t realize it then, but I was screaming.
Every time I swallow, it hurts. My shoulders shudder and Eli tries to comfort me but I shove him away. Backing into the corner of the foyer, I’m only seeing the vision of me running after the man and fighting him.
Time passes slowly.
I steady my breathing and slowly calm down, watching my hands and willing them to stop shaking. There’s so much blood on them and I wipe them off on my pants, but that just spreads the blood.
I walk myself to my room, gripping on to the railing to keep me upright. Eli follows but stays a good distance behind. Carefully stripping out of the stained clothes, I step into the hot shower to wash the blood away, although my knuckles are raw and cut. It will take time for those to heal.
Maybe an hour passes, and I spend the entire time in the shower. When I’m clean, I walk downstairs and open the front door to the house to see Eli, the other man, and two others standing guard.
All I want to know is his name. I want the name of that man. I don’t know why it matters as much as it does, but I need to know his name.
I know I look foolish with wet hair that clings to my face and pajamas on, but still, I speak up.
“Who is it?” I ask Eli as I stand in the light of the foyer, and he stays on the other side of the doorway, bathed in darkness. “What’s the man’s name?”
“We’ll find out soon and I’ll tell you immediately,” he answers me, and it only makes me angrier. How can he not know? It still hurts when I swallow and hurts, even more, when I clench my hands into fists at my side.
“Where is he?” I ask Eli with my teeth clenched, “I’ll beat it out of him myself.” The rage I feel is unjustified and I know I’m out of control and crossing a line, but I don’t care about boundaries anymore. Not when everyone else crosses them.
The silence is only broken by the chirp of crickets from beyond the yard. There are three men in front of me and no one answers me.
I can hear Eli swallow as the other men stare at me, and still, no one answers.
“Where is he?” I repeat myself, ready to tell them to go fuck themselves if they refuse to tell me. I don’t care what Carter ordered. I don’t care if I’m their enemy or they think I’m just being babysat. “I need to know his name!”
“He’s dead, Aria.” Eli’s voice is softer than I expected, and I have to take in a shuddering breath. His gaze is assessing, but comforting. “He died.”
My eyes flicker over his and then dart to the other men. “Who killed him?” My voice is full of both shock and remorse for speaking to him like that, along with everything else. As time moves forward, I seem to come down, to ground myself again. As if blinking finally removed the red rage that blinded me.
One man steps to the side, another whi
spers something on the porch, but Eli’s voice brings my attention back to him.
He answers me, “You did.”
Chapter 17
Carter
* * *
“Do you think she’ll be a problem?” Jase asks me in low tones as he stares across the bar at the brunette. She stands out in the club full of women dressed in tight shirts and short skirts.
Dressed in jeans with rips in the knees and a loose black tank top designed for comfort, she doesn’t belong here. More than that, she’s slamming her hands against the bar and screaming across the counter at both the men working tonight.
“She’s not why we’re here,” I remind him. “Let the bartender handle it,” I tell him and walk past the crowds of people, but Jase stays behind a moment longer, staring at the deranged brunette.
All I care about are the men in the back room right now. Men who lost a family member tonight. Two of our guys were shot in the back while they were out on their runs to collect. The fucked-up part is that they were on the most southern portion of our turf. So, some fucker came into our territory, hid low, and shot them in broad daylight. Some fucker named Charles Banner who’s now buried in a shallow grave thanks to Cason.
It doesn’t bring the men back though. Death is final.
When I walk up to the back doors, Jared opens them immediately and the hushed voices of the six men inside are silenced. I can hear Jase pick up his pace behind me and come in before the doors close, quieting the music of the club.
Around the table, all six men have drinks in front of them, two of them with shots untouched. Cigarettes are lit and one of the guys takes the last puff before putting out the butt. As he blows out the smoke, the rest of the five greet me and then he follows.
The metal chair legs drag on the floor as Jared pulls out seats for both Jase and me and then goes back to his position to guard the doors.
“James and Logan.” I swallow thickly after I look both men in the eyes. The youngest one, James, lost his brother and his eyes are still bloodshot. He can’t stop himself from crying as I tell him, “I’m sorry.” Logan lost his cousin, his only cousin and he’s the one who brought him in. I can see the look of regret on his face and there’s nothing I can do to take that back.
The other four men all lost a close friend.
Only two men have died tonight on our side, and we took out nearly thirty of Talvery’s crew. It doesn’t make the losses any easier to take. Not for the six men sitting here.
“What happened was a tragedy and one that needs to be rectified.”
“I thought they said you got him?” A kid with a deep scar down the left side of his face and blonde hair speaks up. His lips stay parted as he stares at me with wide eyes. “They said he’s dead.”
“The asshole who stole the lives of my men?” I question him, bringing my hand to my chest. “The one who pulled the trigger was shot in the back of the head and buried in the back of the construction site off the highway. Tomorrow cement will cover him, and his name will be forgotten.” I pause as the kid nods. His name escapes me, and I look around at the other four. I know three of them and then I come back to the blonde. Matthew. That’s right. “Matthew?” I call him out and he nods again, bringing his gaze up from where it was focused on the table.
“You can call me Matty.” He brightens for a moment, and it’s then that I remember one of the guys who died was his neighbor. They grew up together.
“How old are you?”
“Just turned twenty-two,” he tells me, and I turn around and motion for Jared to come closer. “Get him as many drinks as he wants all week. A birthday should be celebrated. Every day alive should be celebrated.”
“Thank you, Boss,” Matty tells me and I shake my head, not wanting any gratitude.
“The man who’s responsible for your brother’s death,” I look to James and then to Logan as I continue, “and your cousin’s death, Nicholas Talvery, will die the second I have a chance to end his life.”
I pause as the memories of how he tried to kill me, how sneaky the fucker is, spring to mind. Always preparing and setting up his men to blindside the unsuspecting, like my brothers, when we were only kids. “No one,” my voice hardens, “will take from us without having consequences.”
My heart races as I look the two men on my right in the eyes. “He killed your family and I’ll have his head for it.”
“To the end of Talvery,” Matty raises the shot glass in his hand and the other men do the same.
Talvery.
I’m numb as they throw back the shots and commiserate together.
“To the end of this war,” Jase speaks up, grabbing another shot glass and filling his and then the others.
The guy's spirit picks up, although Logan still looks lost. James pats him on the back as Logan hunches over, shaking his head and crying again.
This war is useless. A fight between two men, Romano and Talvery, who already have enough. Greedy, selfish men who will risk lives to hurt the other.
And I supported it.
And Jase wants more of it.
And Aria lies in the middle of all of it.
“If you need anything, you know who to call,” I hear Jase speak quietly to the two men on the right and then he stands, and I do the same. Buttoning my jacket and taking a good look at each of the men sitting there.
None of them blame me and that’s the worst part of it. I’m bitter knowing they don’t blame me when they should. I brought them into this.
For her.
I agreed to this… for her.
The sound of Jase walking ahead of me is all I can follow as I feel like I’m suffocating. Maybe that’s how I’ll die. I’ll choke on every fucked-up decision I ever made.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. It’s been going off since the bar, but I wanted to get in and out and give the men the respect they deserve. That’s the least I could do.
Feeling it go off again as we step out into the night air and wait for the car to come around, brings on the restlessness and unease that hasn’t left me since I left Aria alone on the bed.
“That brunette’s gone,” Jase comments, leaning against a post by the curb that details all the drink deals inside.
As I pull out my phone, I glance at his profile and for a moment I see the look of loss in his eyes. He’s looking out into the parking lot and past it to the busy street. I know what he’s thinking about. I know what that look means.
“You all right?” I ask him, and he clears his throat, coughing into his fist and kicking off the post.
“Yeah,” he answers and runs his hand down the back of his neck. “I just can’t believe Talvery would waste a man like that. Did he really think he’d get out alive?” he questions, and I wonder if he’s telling me the truth about what he was thinking, or if I was right.
The rumble of the engine and the soothing sound of my car pulling up grabs our attention and saves me from asking him and prying.
It’s not until I walk around and open the door that I check my phone and see the missed calls and texts. Eli never texts, and he knows not to.
* * *
A’s safe and sound but shit happened. Call me when you can.
* * *
It’s the only text I’ve ever received from him. And I read it over and over, not breathing.
She’s safe. Anxiety creeps up and doesn’t leave me, forcing me to unbutton my collar as I walk around the other side and tell Jase to get out and drive. My hand slams on the roof when he doesn’t move fast enough. “You drive!” I scream at him and feel raw fear at the back of my throat.
She’s safe.
“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t object but stares at me the entire time he moves around to the other side.
With the key in the ignition, he sits there staring at me while Eli’s phone rings.
“Come on,” I grit out.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again.
“Drive to the safe house,” I yell at him, irritate
d by Eli not answering and pissed off that I’m here and not with Aria. But more than anything I’m scared that something happened to her. It’s been nearly forty minutes since he called.
The ringing stops and it goes to his voicemail. Motherfucker. I lean forward, my palms on the dash and try to calm the fuck down. She’s safe.
“Tell me again how we should take on more when this shit is out of hand,” I mutter to Jase as he pulls up to a stop sign.
“What happened?” he asks again, incredulity in his voice. I stare at my brother, not knowing what to say because I don’t fucking know. I need to know.
“She’s safe,” I say out loud but it’s more of a reminder to myself and Jase asks, “Aria?”
As I nod my head, the phone rings in my hand.
“Eli,” I answer quickly, feeling my pulse throb harder.
“We have a problem,” he tells me as Jase makes a right and then stops at the light. He’s staring at me instead of watching the road.
“Four men on First Street took a shot at our crew. They knew where they were and went for the two stations at the end of the security block. Only one of our guys took a shot, he’s with the doc now and he’ll be fine.”
One breath out, a deep, low breath and I swallow the spiked knot of fear. She’s fine, I remind myself. My eyes close and my head falls against the headrest.
My heart is thudding, rather than beating.
“Whose men?” I ask him, and he answers, “Not Romano or Talvery.”
My jaw clenches, as does my fist. Fucking great. That’s the last thing I need right now. Another asshole fucking with me.
“Anything else?” I ask him, opening my eyes and staring at the cabin of the car. The red and white lights from outside dance on the ceiling as he speaks. “All four men are dead, but they were known to hang out with the man who tried to take Addison. The one Daniel killed back when he was checking out Iron Heart. Men for hire. And Carter,” he pauses and so does the beat in my chest. I know it has to do with Aria. I can feel it. “I was with Aria at the time. She was there.”
