Hotstreak: A Bad Boy New Adult Romance (Chaos, Nevada Book 2)

by Liz K. Lorde

  Course, the reality of the situation was vastly different from how the journalists posited it to be.

  The gang removed themselves from the SUV, a good long distance from the parking lot and still some half a football field away from the shipyard. We had our pistols strapped and ready to go, but the heavy ammunition was kept stashed away in a hidden compartment in the seats.

  Jessica killed the engine and stepped out, moving over to me – and before she could reach me, I stalked over to her and grabbed her face. She knew what was comin’ for her, so she got up on her tiptoes.

  Planting a deep kiss on her lips, I tried to steal the breath from her lungs and make her melt away right there, my heart burning up and my soul revving to the point of ecstasy. When I was around her, my body was complete and my spirit gorged on the sustenance that her embrace so easily provided.

  She pulled away from the kiss and looked up at me beneath those dark lashes, “The gloves aren’t dumb, are they?” She asked, but I didn’t know what the hell she was going on about – I was still floating down to earth from my momentary sojourn in bliss.

  “Come again?” My eyes flicked over her delightful features, only barely aware of the black fingerless gloves on her hands.

  She smacked my shoulder and gave me a pointed look along with her index finger, “You’d better start paying attention, asshole.”

  Jameson, Brad and Reyes all scanned the shipyard with binoculars as the other crew members branched out less than twenty feet, getting a feel for the perimeter.

  I licked my lips and picked Jessica up so that her legs could straddle my waist, “I’m paying attention,” I protested, eyes falling on her stiff nipples.

  She ran her fingers through my hair and I was back in heaven. She gave me a light little laugh, “If I knew I was going to be such a distraction…”

  “You would have come anyway.”

  Reyes appeared at my side like a dark ghost and I immediately put Jessica back onto the ground. “Check it and see,” he said in that gravelly tone, flicking his gaze between me and my girl. He handed me the binoculars. “For the record,” he started, but I already knew what he was going to say.

  “The world doesn’t spin on your record, sergeant.”

  He matched my words with a disapproving gaze.

  Peering through the lenses, I surveyed the surrounding area – the shipyard and what could be made out of the six-floor high parking lot. We had gotten here well before Franklin had told us the meet would go down, and it looked like our steadfastness was paying off. Not a soul in sight. There were a few tricks of shadow, and a couple of rodents – but no real signs of life. Giving Reyes an acknowledging look, I handed him the binoculars and turned to face Jessica, planting a deep kiss on her lips. “Wait out in the spot like we discussed, and don’t come out for any reason unless we tell you. We’re gonna get through this quick and smooth, no hiccups, alright?”

  “No hiccups,” Jess promised, giving me those darling eyes and another deep kiss for her good measure.

  I’ll make good on everything, I know I will. I escorted her back to the driver’s seat and got a headcount of the men, making note that Tommy was missing. I dipped my head in the SUV and noticed him sitting there, quiet as can be. “You gonna watch her for me, Tom?” I smiled.

  “Yep.”

  “I see even a hair missing from her pretty head, I’ll have your ass when I’m back,” I joked.

  Tommy returned with that goofy smile, “Aye aye, capatain. Hair and ass. Ass and hair.”

  I shook my head, can’t believe I was going to leave him alone with her. Maybe someone smarter, or well, more focused would have been a better choice. Oh well, can’t blame him for volunteering – when there’s a creature like that around you, you just gotta do whatever you can to be near it.

  Once everyone was doubly re-informed by Brad on how this shit was going to go down, we all retrieved our respective weapons from the hidden compartment beneath the seats of the SUV. Most of them were MAC-10’s, a second pistol, and Reyes and myself brought the heavy hitters. Him the AK-47, and me the AR-15.

  Jessica and Tommy drove off to her designated wait point, and we strolled out ready to get our hands dirty.

  38

  Jessica

  Pulling inside the narrow, pitch black alley, I slowed the SUV to a stop and flicked off the lights. I brought my fingers over to the radio knob and turned up the volume, until it was at an audible level. It was turned on to some kind of honky-tonk country crap, but in an effort to expand my musical horizons, even in this time of crisis, I decided I would try and stomach it. For an instant, my mind went over to the thought of Pooh Bear. Surely he was the one who had a hand in doing this, bet he drove it last.

  There was a tug on the strings of my heart, a happy one. I hoped to get to know him better, and Holly too – after our chat, she really seemed to understand where I was coming from. I was doing it all for my mother, but now I’m in it for real – I want this for more than the money and the thrill, I want to stand by Hunter and his brothers. His people.

  This was my new life.

  Tommy shuffled around in the backseat, before eventually crawling his way over awkwardly to the front seat – flashing me that same goofy grin and white teeth that I’d come to so easily associate with the man. “You would like this shit,” he mentioned, settling into the front seat, his gun was stuffed in the side of his pants – peeking out through his vest.

  “I actually don’t,” I admitted. “I just like to try new things, you know?”

  “Hah, yeah,” he said, nodding his head in agreement, “me too.”

  I looked over absently in the direction that Hunter and the Reapers had went, a twist of heat forming in my belly. I wondered then, how’d they fair. I knew that it would be a bloody encounter, but would they really be safe? I turned my head to appraise and smile at Tommy. “You okay?” I asked. “You look like you have something on your mind,” I observed. It wasn’t possible to tell exactly what it was that he was thinking, those powers were sadly beyond me – but I thought that I saw the glimmer of sadness in his wild green eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Tommy assured, swiping the back of his hand across his nose. I noticed that he too, was looking where I once was – guess he was wondering the same things that I was about the boys. “Can I ask you something?” He said after a while and seemingly out of the blue.

  I automatically raised both of my brows, “Sure?”

  “You ever know what it’s like?” He asked, a small, subtle strain to his voice. His head dipped down a bit, looking at the floor. I turned down the country music to where it was only barely audible.

  “What, what’s like?” I asked

  “To be poor,” Tommy brought up his shoulders and then tilted his head in my direction, the seat making some small noise in protest as his body shifted against it, trying to get comfortable. “You know. Poverty. Havin’ to, uh, go down to the food places, beg for whatever government issue turkey or ham they had to give away that week.”

  “Well, I wasn’t ever that poor,” I admitted, “but I mean. I wasn’t well within the means of living a lavish life or anything,” I gave him a light laugh. And it was true, mom had provided a lot for me in my life – Dad too, before he left. But there were struggles, and even though we got by for the most part, I couldn’t deny that most of my friends and relatives were living with a higher quality of life. I suppose, it did make me a bit envious, for a while. Time and love healed most of those wounds, of course.

  Tommy stared absently at the floor still, his body seemingly halting all function. No breathing, no blinking, no moving – just existing beside me in space and time. “It’s…” he trailed off, looking my way for a moment, “Really just a senseless, terrible thing,” he openly mused, “to have to starve and miss certain meals, because they don’t fit neatly into your budget. You know, if a poor person ever came into money, god help those,” he laughed, “god help those bastards who were raised in it. ‘Cause we kno
w how to make every penny stretch.”

  “True,” I shared a small laugh with the man.

  There was an uneasy calm that forcibly entered into the car, and my eyes crawled over the highly despondent man. He was starting to give off a vibe that I didn’t find entirely friendly, a strange, alienating aura of sadness and pain and peculiar introspection. Tommy craned his head to look at me, giving a lingering, lustful stare, “Wouldn’t you get tired of it?” He asked. “I just want to know I’m not alone, you know.”

  “What do you mean?” I replied. “Tired of what?

  “Suffering,” he answered, reaching for his gun and lazily pointing it towards me, the hand that gripped it sitting relaxed on his knee. Heat rushed through every vein in my body, and my bones wanted to sprout from my skin – this subtle cutting pain permeating every ounce of my being. “It’s just…” he trailed off, locking with my eyes, “miserable. Abso-fucking-lutely miserable. Put it in drive,” he instructed, wagging the end of the gun at the steering wheel.

  “E-enough kidding around, if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny. It’s sick,” I knew that he wasn’t joking; could tell from the look in his eyes and the clutching in my chest. Nothing about him was anything but serious, a stark contrast to his usual happy go-lucky demeanor. Still, I hoped beyond hope that I was wrong.

  Tommy pulled back the hammer of his gun and dug the barrel against the side of my head.

  39

  Hunter

  Grating, I heard the wailing pierce of some stray cat on the floor below us. I craned my head over my shoulder in hopes to spot it, if only just to sate some primal sense of curiosity.

  It wasn’t there.

  The sound of the gang’s boots filled my ears as we stomped our way up like a slow-rolling storm, rising up the wide incline. The pavement was cracked in numerous places, and every inch of the concrete walls had been tagged with poor artistic graffiti; some of the walls were exposed, revealing the rebar and the bones of the place. It was like glimpsing at the exposed wounds of some shot-up corpse, and there was a feeling of seeing something that I should not.

  Brad; Jameson, Reyes, Pooh Bear, Lex and myself all finished the ascent. We rounded the corner and continued onwards.

  Only one floor left.

  Franklin had specified that it would go down on the upper most, an hour’s time from now. It felt good to have the weight of my gun in my hands, felt right. Some of the guys were talking bullshit and Lex decided to light up a cigarette. I glanced at Lex, giving him a pointed look, “You better not put that shit out where people can see it.”

  Lex sucked, the cigarette glowed, “You’re really choosing to worry about these animals finding trash in a makeshift landfill?”

  “Yeah,” I insisted, “I am.”

  “Please,” Lex puffed, “could dump a whole carton of cigarettes up in this bitch and they wouldn’t see shit coming.”

  Jameson saw fit to add a comment, the sound of our boots echoing off of the pillars and jacked-up cars, “It is nasty.”

  I scanned around as we approached the corner that we needed to turn at, stepping over a bright yellow speed bump. I craned my head back and lingered for a moment on that yellow raise in the floor, thinking to myself what it meant.

  Caution. The word flickered like a whispering flame in my mind.

  Take care.

  I brought my head back. Lex was undoubtedly right, and I was probably just getting my proverbial panties in a twist. Bottles of broken glass, like soldiers fallen, crunched beneath my shoe. “Yeah,” I sighed, adjusting the AR in my hands as its weight started to make my muscles stiff, “whatever. You’re right, just want to be careful I guess.”

  Pooh Bear led the van of our contingent, and turned his person around so that he was walking backwards, a smile on his face as his boots dragged across the floor. He had the smallest layer of sweat on his face, “Already kickin’ myself for this,” he said before we rounded the corner, “got to piss somethin’ fierce and the idea of waiting’s killin’ me.”

  “You had plenty of time to drain your limp dick before we got here,” I joked.

  Brad stepped over to Pooh’s side and smacked his chest with the back of his hand, “You piss more than a race horse, you know that?” Sounded like he had taken a bath in gravel, but there was a certain comfort to it – to his voice. Like having your dad around, watching your back and letting you know if you’re making a fool of yourself.

  A smile tugged at my lips. The pain that once would clutch at my chest was nothing but a fraction of what it used to be. Instead of dwelling on the fact, my mind and my heart just turned to Jess. We rose up to the last floor of the building. There were a series of cars, none of them being anywhere close to the past two decades. All of them looted and worn out, like it was straight out of The Walking Dead.

  Some of the cars had ragged blue tarps draped over them, the material frayed and full of black spots. White lines that served as a guide for the cars had been smudged away over time and plastic bags crinkled beneath my foot. Scattered around the lot, were great chipped at pillars – much like the ones from before, with their rebar jutting out like twisted fingers.

  Sucking in a deep breath, the air felt thick, and my gaze lazily swept over the vacant area.

  Pooh Bear continued to lead, and I whipped my head to the right when I heard this vague shuffling that was out of order with the brotherhood’s. Except there was only shadow, and the tricks of moonlight that shone across the way; I thought back on that wailing cat, and tried to convince myself that it was nothing. But it sounded like something human.

  The muscles in my body began to tense, and suddenly the weight of my gun felt monumentally heavy – this basic, animalistic fear shot through my veins and a thought looped time and time again through me. Do not let your guard down.

  Maybe I misheard, maybe it was nothing at all; too much excitement from what was going to happen.

  Lex flicked his cigarette through the air, the dying embers of its end dissipating in flight. I swallowed and sucked in another breath, an itch demanding my attention on my side.

  I tried to keep my cool.

  Franklin’s word was good, I reminded myself. He’s always done right by us.

  We got here early. Well before anyone could have set up, and yet something didn’t sit right. Everyone stopped close to the center of the parking lot and Brad looked all around, making a deep humming noise from his chest, in open thought. No doubt wanting to figure where we should position ourselves. “Reyes…” he started.

  Thunder boomed, like God had snapped his fingers. There was a flash. Pins and needles assailed me.

  Blood cut the air from Pooh Bear’s head, a nickel sized hole erupting from the spot where he was shot.

  The world around me turned to a haze of heat, confusion and screams.

  40

  Jessica

  “Why are you doing this?” It came out in a ragged whisper, my breaths fumbling through my lungs. Sickness and warmth became me, and I wanted to scream as I led the SUV slowly down Grove street.

  Tommy still wore that stupid bandana on his head. This one was black and red, his chocolate hair spilling out of it a bit. “Because I can,” he coldly replied, “because I’m sick of fighting. Been fighting too damn long,” his words came out in a whisper as he looked out the window, his gun still pointed at my hip. I wondered then if maybe I was quick enough, I might be able to knock it from his hand or could wrestle it from him. The idea quickly became dismissed when I realized he was just too physically strong in comparison, even if he wasn’t built like the rest of the Reapers. “Stop up here,” he ordered.

  The man had long since stripped me of the gun that Hunter gave me, and I felt the cold clutch of fear in my heart. I did as he said and pulled up right next to the sidewalk, killing the engine just outside an old single-story house. Even in the dark I could tell the place was more of a meth den than anything, with its paint peeled off and the wood of the house smashed up; it’s win
dows broken and caked with dirt and other various grime.

  Tommy looked to me with these dead eyes, and I felt my heart beat hard against my breastbone.

  I’m going to die tonight. Trying to still myself as the dreadful seconds ticked on by like knives marking time on the wall, I swallowed away the lump in my throat. “Please,” I begged again like I had earlier. He said nothing. Just let his eyes crawl over my skin, leaving me feeling like filth wherever they landed. “You don’t have to do this,” I croaked out, feeling the tears threaten to break free. “Y-you would have already, killed me. So, so please just…let me go? Just let me go.”

  Tommy clicked his teeth, “Haven’t killed you yet ‘cause I haven’t decided,” he said simply.

  Decided what? “Okay, but—“

  “Quiet,” he spat out, bringing the gun level to my eyes.

  I froze up and after a moment, when he told me to get out, I did just that. Tommy followed suit, and motioned with his hand for me to come.

  Just make a run for it. There might be enough distance between you, if you run as fast as you can. If you weave around.

  Fuck. I could feel the trails of sweat running down to my waist, my tanktop sticking to my skin.

  “Come,” Tommy said in a sort of whisper-shout, “now.”

  Relenting, I slowly walked over to him, looking all around in hopes that someone might see us – but the night was dead. And soon, at this rate, I would be too. When I got over to Tommy’s side, he watched me carefully as he produced something from his pocket. Something black and a kind of cylinder shape. When he began to screw it on the barrel of the gun, I admonished myself for not recognizing earlier that it was a silencer. “Be quiet,” he instructed before grabbing my wrist tightly and pulling me along the overgrown front yard.

  I noted that there weren’t any lights on as we trekked to the side of the house. He made me go first and crouch down low passed the windows, and when we got to the back, he pointed at another dilapidated home. “See that one?”