by Zoey Parker
“How could it hurt you so much that I kept this from you, when you didn't even know you had a kid yesterday?” I asked.
“I don't know,” he said, sounding genuinely mystified. “But it does. A lot.”
“So you want to help me raise this baby, then?” I asked hopefully. “You really want to be part of its life? That's important to you?”
“Yeah, it is,” Nic answered. “Like you said, yesterday I didn't even know I was gonna have a kid. If anyone had asked me whether I wanted one, I'd have probably told them to fuck off. But when I came back and saw all that blood, and you told me you were pregnant...it's weird, but I suddenly felt scared. Like I hadn't even had a chance to be happy that I was gonna be a father and it was already gonna be taken away from me.”
“But what about the club, Nic? What are we going to do?”
“I don't know,” he replied, shaking his head. “But I promise we'll think of something. You might have to keep your head down for a little while until this thing that's going on now blows over. Do you have any family you can stay with?”
I thought of my parents and nodded.
“Good,” he said. “When everything's calmed down, we can figure out what to do next. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed. I was still worried, but overall, this had gone a lot better than I expected. It seemed like I'd be able to keep Nic and the baby, and we might even have a chance to stay together as a family.
Sure, the prim voice in my head said. You'll get a big happily ever after. As long as Nic can survive whatever bloodbath he's involved in right now. And as long as afterward, he doesn't decide that he cares about his club more than he cares about trying to make a life with you.
I hated that voice so much.
A nurse peered into the room and looked at my chart. “Ms. Sparks? The doctor says you're free to go. Stop by the front desk on your way out for your prescription and some pamphlets about cervicitis.”
“Come on,” Nic said. “I'll take you back to the garage so we can talk this out some more, and then you can give your parents a call. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said. He helped me out of bed and into my clothes, and we left together with his arm draped over my shoulder. It felt good.
If I'd known how bad things would get after that, I'd have tried to hold onto the memory a bit tighter.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Man in the Bow Tie
Following Nic from the biker bar to the garage on the west side was no trouble at all. He'd barely seen me as I stood among the people from the neighborhood, watching the fire trucks and squad cars show up. Few people ever notice a harmless-looking guy like me.
At least, not until it's too late.
I watched the peculiar scene play out between Bard and the Deputy Superintendent, making a note to look into their connection later. Then I tracked Nic to the garage and the apartment upstairs, and made a note of the address. Lots of people like to type those kinds of things into their fancy cell phones and tablets these days, but not me. I still use a plain little notebook and a stubby pencil. I'm old-fashioned that way, I suppose. It's one of the things Giovanni's always appreciated about me.
I watched the place for a few minutes from the taco joint across the street until I heard sirens approaching and saw an ambulance pull up. The medics went up the steps, then came out with a woman strapped to a gurney. She was crying and saying something about her baby. Nic was by her side, clearly trying to comfort her.
My mind assembled the puzzle pieces easily, as it always did. She was his girlfriend, based on how he was looking at her and touching her hand. She was pregnant and there was a complication, hence the ambulance. Given this information, it stood to reason that Nic was the father.
All very interesting, to be sure. I made more notes in my book as the ambulance pulled away. I was in no hurry to follow them. After all, with the direction they were heading, it was easy to determine which hospital they were taking her to.
After that, it was just a question of finding the room she'd been taken to and looking at the chart outside the door for her full name and address. Nic didn't even know I was standing just a few feet behind him. He was too focused on the unconscious woman in the bed. And even if he'd turned around, well, I was probably just some doctor who hadn't changed into his white coat yet, or someone's grandfather here for a visit.
So far, all I'd been paid to do was follow Nic and find out if there was anyone else in his life who'd be worth threatening or hurting. I decided I'd done a fairly good job of that and called Giovanni to tell him everything that I'd learned so far.
Then Giovanni told me what else he'd pay me to do.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lauren
As we pulled up to the garage in Nic's car, I was finally starting to let myself relax a little. Based on the information they gave me at the hospital, it seemed like as long as I kept taking the antibiotics and didn't get too stressed or excited, there wouldn't be any more bleeding and the baby would be fine.
Best of all, Nic still wanted to be with me, even after hearing my concerns about the club. I kept telling myself that it didn't necessarily mean he'd leave the club completely, but maybe things would be okay if he just took a step back from it or stayed away from the illegal stuff the Reapers were involved in.
Nic and I got out of the car and started up the steps to the apartment.
Besides, staying with my parents for a while won't be so bad. After everything I've been through, it'll be nice to get a change of scenery and a chance to relax. I'll be worried about Nic and I'll miss him, but at least we'll be able to talk on the phone.
We heard footsteps approaching behind us and we both turned to look. A middle-aged black man in a brown suit and a bow tie was walking through the alley. He didn't look like someone to worry about and I was ready to ignore him when I felt Nic's body stiffen next to me. I looked at his tense face.
“What's wrong, Nic? Do you recognize that—”
“Get down!” Nic roared suddenly, reaching into his pocket for his gun. Before I could react, Nic shoved me down on the steps. I peered between the wooden slats of the railing and saw that the man in the suit had produced a massive handgun. He pulled the trigger and the sound of the shot filled the alley like thunder. One of the steps between me and the ground exploded into splinters.
Nic returned fire, keeping one hand on my shoulder to make sure I was hunkered down and out of the shooter's line of vision. A segment of the railing blasted apart just a few inches from my head and I could feel the shards of wood in my hair.
My heart rattled in my chest and my stomach felt like it was liquifying. Each of the gunshots was so loud that they felt like knitting needles puncturing my eardrums. I knew I had to stay as calm as possible for the sake of the baby, but that was impossible when my every nerve in my body was screaming that I should prepare to get hit by a bullet at any second.
Nic fired again and I heard a cry of pain from our attacker. I risked another peek through the slats and saw that Nic's bullet had hit him in his right shoulder. The man's arm was bleeding and hanging uselessly at his side, and the huge gun he'd been firing slipped from his limp fingers and clattered to the pavement.
The man in the suit turned and started to run down the alley, clutching his wounded arm.
“Stay here,” Nic told me. He vaulted over the railing and hit the ground running in pursuit. The man was surprisingly quick and agile for someone his age—he flipped over a large plastic garbage can in Nic's path to trip him up while barely breaking his stride. Nic hopped over the can and lunged for the man. He almost missed and fell flat on his face, but he was still able to hook his hand around the man's ankle, bringing him down on one knee. Before the man could get up again, Nic heaved himself off the ground and tackled him around the waist, sending him sprawling face-down on the sidewalk.
The man quickly flipped over onto his back and delivered a sharp punch to Nic's nose. I heard it snap and Nic reared back, blinking w
ith surprise as blood started to pour down his face. The man pulled himself to his feet, and for a moment, it looked like he'd break into a run again. But Nic propelled himself off the ground like a rocket, slamming his fist into the underside of the man's jaw in a fierce uppercut and following it with a hard punch to the abdomen. The attacker crumpled to the ground, wheezing and clutching his midsection as blood trickled from his mouth.
As I watched, Nic climbed on top of the man and continued to punch him—left, right, left, right, on and on, as Nic's own blood dripped from his broken nose and splashed all over the attacker's face. Nic was snarling with incoherent rage. His fists busted the teeth from the man's mouth, spilling them across the pavement in fragments.
My chest was aching horribly, and I realized that I had been holding my breath almost since the shooting had started.
My God, Nic's going to murder that man. He's going to do it right in front of me with his bare hands and I'll be a witness.
I opened my mouth and yelled, “Nic, stop! Please! Don't kill him!”
Nic looked up at me as though he'd forgotten I was there. For a moment, he seemed shocked by his own ferocity. But then he shook his head as though trying to clear it, sending fresh blood from his nose spattering to the pavement.
“Lauren, get inside!” Nic said.
“But...”
“Now!” he commanded.
I was scared of what I heard in his voice. I wanted to stay and beg him to end this violence, but I was sure he wouldn't listen to me—just like I was sure I didn't want to see what was coming next.
I quickly climbed the wooden steps to the apartment, shutting the door behind me.
When I heard three gunshots echo in the alley a minute later, I started to cry.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nic
Once Lauren had gone inside and shut the door behind her, I turned my attention back to the man in the bow tie. Now that I recognized him, I was pissed as hell at myself for not noticing him before. How long had he been following us while I was too distracted to see him? How much had he seen?
I grabbed the man by the lapels of his suit and hoisted him off the ground until our faces were inches apart. My broken nose felt like it was being twisted off my face with a pair of pliers but I didn't care. I needed answers.
“What's your name, shitheel?” I demanded.
“Caleb,” the man answered.
“And you're workin' for Giovanni, is that it?”
Caleb drew his lips back in a wide grin, his teeth smeared with blood. “Now that'd be one hell of a coincidence if I weren't, wouldn't it?”
I whipped out my gun and smacked him in the face with the butt of the handle. “I don't do comedy, motherfucker. Give me straight answers or I'll beat you to death in this fucking alley.”
Caleb winced with pain, but his grin didn't fade. “You don't want to go hitting me in the head like that, young blood. It's mighty hard to get good answers from a man once he's concussed. Believe me, I know.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I replied. I lowered him to the pavement again and then shoved my index finger into the bullet wound in his arm. His smile vanished as he let out a scream. “You're right,” I added. “This is much more effective. How long have you been tracking me?”
“Since the fire in front of the bar,” Caleb wheezed. “Shame what happened to your pretty red bike, boy. Hope you had insurance.”
“The laughs just keep on comin' with you, huh tough guy?” I sneered, digging my finger deeper into the wound and twisting it. Caleb yowled again. “Okay, last question. You get this right and I'll let you drag your sorry old ass back to Giovanni. You give me more of your snarky bullshit or lie to me and I'll take you apart piece by piece. Are we clear?”
Caleb nodded, his eyes cloudy with pain.
“Good. What about the girl?”
Caleb raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “What about her?”
I pulled my finger out of the wound and raised my boot, stomping down on it hard. Caleb shrieked.
“What's she got to do with all this? What does Giovanni know about her?” I yelled.
“Nothing! I don't know a thing about her and neither does Giovanni. As far as I know, she's got no part in any of this. Hell, I don't even know her name. Now let up!”
I lifted my boot off his gunshot wound, then kicked him in the face. Whether he'd known it or not, he'd fired a gun at my girl and my unborn child. I was so enraged that my entire body was trembling. It felt like pure hatred was pulsing through my veins.
Caleb's eyes met mine and he forced another smile, spitting out a tooth. “So now that you've got what you need, I guess that's the end of me, right? We both know you won't just let me go.”
“You got that right,” I said.
“Well, at least make it quick, then,” he sighed, settling back on the pavement.
“Don't tell me what to do, motherfucker,” I snarled. I raised my gun and fired a bullet into his left kneecap, then another into his groin. I listened to his screams for a few moments, hoping they'd bring me some satisfaction.
When they didn't, I shot him in the head, silencing him.
Even in a back alley like this, I knew it'd be a bad idea to just leave the body for bystanders and cops to find. I'd already had one brush with the law recently and I damn sure didn't need another one, especially when I had to focus on making sure Lauren was safe. I hauled the body to the car Bard was letting me use and dumped it in the trunk, then tossed Caleb's gun in after it. It was a temporary solution to be sure, but at least it would buy some time.
When this shit with the Bonaccorsos is finally over, we'd better find some new guys to get rid of dead bodies for us, I thought. Handling it ourselves is fucking exhausting, not to mention disgusting. At this rate, we're gonna have to start buying plastic tubs and jugs of acid in bulk.
The body was stashed, but there were still wide trails of blood on the pavement leading to the trunk. Not exactly subtle. I found a bucket in the shed behind the garage and filled it using the rusty outdoor spigot. Then I splashed the bloodstains with it, repeating this process until the sidewalk didn't look like the floor of a slaughter house. It wasn't exactly pristine, but it would have to do.
I trudged up the steps, carefully avoiding the ones that had been damaged by Caleb's gunfire. When I opened the door, Lauren stared at me with wide and frightened eyes like I was something from a horror flick. I looked down and realized that I had Caleb's blood all over me, and plenty of my own too thanks to the busted nose.
Well, no wonder she's scared after everything she's been through. It's all right now, though. I won't let anything bad happen to her again.
“Come on,” I said. I walked over to the freezer and broke some ice cubes out of the trays, wrapping them in a hand towel to hold against my nose. “We'd better get out of here. I'll drop you someplace safe, and then...”
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” Lauren answered, her voice trembling.
I was so confused by the words that it took me a moment to really get a grip on what she'd said. “What the fuck are you talking about? You saw what just happened. It's not safe for you here.”
“It's not safe for me anywhere as long as I'm with you,” she said. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew things would never work between us, but I wanted them to so badly that I fooled myself into thinking it would somehow turn out fine. But it's never going to be fine. It's always going to be violence and gunshots and blood everywhere...”
“Babe, listen,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “You're freaked out. That's totally natural. All the bad shit you've seen over the past couple days would make just about anyone bug out. But we can't afford to lose it now, okay? We need to stay focused on getting you and the baby to a place where you'll be protected and away from the action.”
“The action?” Lauren repeated. “That's what you call this...this atrocity? Did you kill that man outside just now, Nic?”
“Damn straight I did,” I ans
wered. “He was about to do the same to us, in case you didn't notice.”
“Not after you shot him in the arm and beat the hell out of him! You murdered a man in cold blood!”
“Well, what the fuck did you want me to do?” I asked, my voice raising defensively. I'd expected her to be grateful that I'd saved her life again, not lecture me about how I chose to do it. “Let him go? Call the cops on him? This doesn't work like that, Lauren.”
“Then it doesn't work at all, at least for me,” she said.
“Earlier, you asked what happened to Growler,” I said. “You really want to know? Okay. He was kidnapped by a guy named Giovanni. I'd killed one of Giovanni's people and since he was having trouble getting to me, he got to Growler instead. He spent weeks torturing Growler, cutting off body parts and sending them to us. Fuck, Growler barely got away—it was a miracle that he made it back to us, and even so, he's gonna spend the rest of his life looking like a mutilated freak.
