Blowback

by Monica James

  I simply stand by Lachlan’s grave, honoring the man I knew and loved, regardless of his past.

  When I can no longer feel my toes, I slip the hood farther over my head and say goodbye to Lachlan. I’ll be back, and when I return, it’ll be with his son.

  With the second bouquet in my hand, I walk the large cemetery until I arrive at the last grave in a row just like the others before and after it. I remove the withered red roses from the grave and replace them with the white ones I bought for Damian.

  I know how fucked up this is, but when I did a search online and found out Damian was also buried here, it felt almost impolite not to pay my respects. Seeing his birthdate and date of death make the tears I thought were long gone reappear.

  “When I was fifteen, four men killed my brother. One of them was your brother, and the other was—”

  Bull’s words play on repeat, and being here makes his story, his pain all the more real. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You were so young. You had your whole life ahead of you. But my…brother and my boyfriend stole that from you.”

  I don’t know why I need to apologize. It just feels like the right thing to do.

  “Your brother really loves you. I wish you could see the man he is today. He’s dark and violent, but underneath that lies a broken and vulnerable soul. I should hate him, but I don’t,” I confess to the one person who would understand.

  “I think I…” I lick my cracked lips. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

  And there it is. The ugly truth I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. What does this say about me? How can I love the man who destroyed my life? How can I love him when he looked me in the eye with no emotion and told me he would kill me if I stood in his way?

  “There is so much more to this story, and the people who hold the answers took them to their graves. Did my brother really do what Bull, what Cody said he did?” I mumble aloud, using Bull’s real name because that’s who he was before he crossed paths with my brother.

  After seeing a side of Christopher today I didn’t like, I wonder if putting him on a pedestal has clouded what’s right in front of me.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense. Bull wouldn’t do all of this if what he’s saying isn’t true.” Coming here, I don’t feel guilty confessing my sins because the dead don’t judge.

  With Bull, everything has been real and raw. But with Christopher, he seems to be playing a role. He waltzes into my life, expecting me to forget the past, but I can’t. How can he be okay with me dancing when he knows I’m doing it because I have to and not because I want to?

  Carlos has been MIA since Christopher returned, but maybe that’s because he played his part and is no longer needed. A sense of dread washes over me, and my stomach turns.

  What if Carlos was merely the messenger, and my brother was the mastermind behind it all? Andre said as much when Bull broke his ankles, broke them trying to protect me. Andre said someone else wanted me. Is that someone Christopher?

  The earrings I thought were from Carlos; were they really from Christopher? Has he been here the whole time?

  But why?

  None of this makes any sense.

  Having him conveniently appear out of nowhere does seem strange. Not to mention, he didn’t appear surprised when he saw Bull and me together. Was he just waiting to strike?

  The more I think about this, the more sense it begins to make. Has he been closer than I thought this entire time? If that’s true…I don’t know who my brother is, and I can’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth.

  Instead of rage, a sense of peace falls over me when I look at Damian’s headstone. Coming here has given me the answers that were staring me in the face this entire time. Even from the grave, it seems, the benevolence that Bull admired about his brother has shone through.

  “If what Bull says is true…then your death will be avenged,” I promise Damian, knowing what that means.

  And for the first time in a long time, I’m okay with it.

  Bull

  “And then she wiped away her tears and drove home.”

  The coffee cup in my clenched fist threatens to break under the force, so I slam it onto the dresser with a snarl. “Motherfucker,” I curse to no one in particular as I don’t discriminate. I hate the world right now.

  Paul sips his coffee, knowing better than to console me.

  He relayed the events of when he tailed Tiger two days ago, and the more he shared with me, the more I wanted to break something. Venus stands in the doorway, shaking her head. I know what she’s going to say.

  “You need to call her. She needs a friend right now.”

  “Thank you for your advice, Venus, but we’re not friends.”

  She scoffs, not believing a word that comes out of my mouth because she’s right. The need to see Tiger leaves me so fucking restless, I begin to pace the room.

  I know how much Avery meant to her. Avery was the reason she worked so hard, selling her soul to that club, so her death will destroy Tiger. And all I can do is watch, dick in hand, from the sidelines.

  Avery’s passing must have left her sentimental because she visited Lachlan’s grave. But what I don’t understand is why she also visited Damian’s. Paul watched her from the shadows and said he saw her lay white roses by his grave.

  After everything I’ve done to her, she still shows compassion to my family. I feel like an even bigger asshole, if that’s possible.

  “She only leaves her apartment to pick up her kid,” Paul says with a shrug. “That tall, scary-looking dude has stopped by a few times, but she hasn’t let him in.”

  Jaws has been circling her, and I would have thought she’d want his support right now, but clearly, I know jack shit.

  Clenching my snarled hair, I continue pacing like a caged animal because that’s how I feel inside. I want to go to her. Fuck if I’d know what to say, but knowing she’s alone, dealing with this, kills me inside.

  “Keep watching her,” I order Paul. It’s all I can think of right now.

  “Should I send her flowers?”

  I jerk to a stop, arching a brow. “What the fuck for?”

  “That’s what people do when someone dies, Bull,” Venus says, rolling her eyes with a smirk. “It’s called being nice.”

  “No wonder I don’t know anything about this rite of passage. What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have rooms to clean or some shit?” There is no bite to my comment.

  I’m clearly losing my touch because Venus laughs in response.

  I have so much going on right now, and all I want to do is jump in my truck and bang on Tiger’s door. Clutching my shirt, I tug at the material over my chest because my heart is beating so fast, it’s pissing me off.

  “I have some shit to deal with today. I’ll be back later.”

  “Do you want me to come with?” Paul asks.

  I look at Paul like he’s gone mad because he clearly has. “No, I do not want you to come anywhere with me. Your job is to watch Tiger and Scrooge, not me. And why are you in my room? Don’t you have your own?”

  Venus mutes her chuckles behind her hand while Paul smirks. He pats Fluffball on the head, before finally getting the hint and leaving. Why are these people even here?

  Venus looks at me with that know-it-all look in her eyes. She should also take a hint and leave, but she doesn’t. “It’s okay to like people, Bull. We won’t judge you.” Her tone as well as her smirk are filled with sarcasm.

  I don’t bother correcting her because what would be the point?

  She gives me a sassy wave, before sauntering away.

  Closing the door, I gather my things because if I don’t bounce, I’m going to be late. José sent me a text this morning asking me to swing by his work. It seems he actually is a used car salesman, but no doubt that business is just a front.

  Just as Stevie intends to use The Pink Oyster.

  I am so sick of these shady ass pricks. They lie, cheat, steal, and make others do
their dirty work. They’re fucking wimps. This isn’t how I run. But this wimp is about to bring Christmas early. He said he’d be in touch when he had news about Scrooge, so he better cough up the goods.

  After topping off Fluffball’s food, I pat him under the chin and close and lock the door. Venus doesn’t bother cleaning my room anymore. If I need anything, I just help myself to the supply closet per her instruction.

  Jumping into my truck, I commence the thirty-minute trek to José’s. He’s smart and won’t leave a digital footprint. Anything we discuss will be face-to-face. That’s how people don’t get caught; be invisible.

  My thoughts, as usual, drift to Tiger. The other night with her was something else. I know she regretted it, which is why I left when she asked me to. I was prepared to spill it all, consequences be damned, but I can’t make that mistake ever again. So much is riding on this. I need to remember that.

  “Sometimes…you have to think about how your actions will affect another.”

  Tiger’s life lesson has stuck with me, and in this case, my action of telling her everything will affect her in the worst possible way. No matter how badly I want her, and I do want her, I have to be strong.

  When José’s lot comes into view, I park my truck by the curb. It’s in a shitty neighborhood—the perfect ruse. I’m packing heat under my jacket, but it’s a false sense of security. I’m on José’s turf now.

  I lower my chin and make my way into the lot. The main building is to the left. Before I even step foot inside, I scope out my surroundings. The back exit is manned by Luis. He nods when he sees me.

  “Come in, amigo,” José says, standing in the doorway of his office. The windows are thick. Bulletproof. Without delay, I follow him and close the door behind me.

  José sits behind his large wooden desk, steepling his fingers. I don’t want to sit, but he won’t give me what I want if I don’t concede. The squeaky leather whines under me as I slump into the chair.

  Even in this shithole, José looks like a king. He reeks of authority, and when he leans back in his chair, rocking, I know he is throwing down the alpha vibes. He has something I want. He doesn’t want me to forget who holds the power.

  “Your man was almost impossible to track down.” I hold my breath. “But we had a deal.”

  Exhaling, I nod, indicating I’m listening.

  He hunts through his desk drawer and produces a pamphlet. Sliding it across the desk, I lean forward, reaching for it, but what I see has me clenching the paper in my fist. It crinkles under the force.

  Staring at me with a smile is the motherfucker who’s haunted me for fourteen years. Yes, when I stalked the internet, gathering everything I could on him, I saw his face, his motherfucking face. But what I didn’t see is what I see now, and what I see is him, Benjamin Solomon, aka Scrooge, standing behind a podium, delivering what appears to be a speech, and on his right hand is a championship ring with a green diamond.

  Damian’s ring.

  There is a date and a place printed on the front, but everything is blurred—blurred with a murderous rage. “Why are you giving me this?” I can’t keep the emotion from my tone, and it feeds a sadist like José.

  “You’re going to be there, that’s why. You lose that fight, and my men will get him alone for you. The rest is up to you.”

  “This is the best you can do? This is a fucking gala event.” I wave the crinkled pamphlet in my hand in case he missed the memo. “With lots of people.” Lots of witnesses.

  Goddammit.

  José shrugs, untroubled. “You want access to one of the most powerful men in the city, you take what you can. You may as well have asked to meet Santa Claus.”

  He’s right. I know how hard Scrooge is to chase down. So if this is the only in I have, I just have to be smart about it. I’m putting my trust in José not to screw me over.

  Reading over the pamphlet, I shake my head in disgust. The gala event is to raise money for victims of child abuse, and the guest speaker is none other than the other asshole who ruined my life. Seeing Damian’s ring on his finger has me slowly crumpling the paper in my fist, wishing it was Scrooge’s throat I was crushing with my hand.

  “What did he do to you, Colmillo?”

  Meeting José’s eyes, I reply, “He fucked with the wrong person, and now, he’s going to pay. I’ll throw the fight, and when I do, we’re done. No more favors, we clear?”

  José smirks, leaning back in his seat. “I think you’ll miss me,” he taunts. I’m clearly wasting my breath because the cartel doesn’t ask, they take. But I want him to know I’m no one’s bitch.

  “Don’t worry. I can’t piss Stevie off too much. He is family after all. I’d rather he wasn’t, but that’s not my choice to make.”

  Motherfucker.

  He decided to drop this bombshell in order to shock me, but I keep my cool. “Looks like you lucked out then.” Standing, I shove the pamphlet into my back pocket, so done with this conversation.

  “I’ll see you soon,” José says happily, and why wouldn’t he be pleased? He has everything he wants.

  Not interested in prolonging the inevitable, I leave his office, desperate to get the fuck out of here so I can process what just went down. The pamphlet burns a hole in my back pocket. As I exit the building, I welcome the snow as it helps calm the raging bull within.

  The moment I jump into my truck, I grip the steering wheel and take three slow, deep breaths. This is what I wanted, to finally get Scrooge alone. The circumstances aren’t ideal, but I’ll make it work.

  Yanking out the pamphlet, it trembles in my hand as I smooth out the creases and stare at the ring on Scrooge’s finger. Memories of that night crash into me, and I squeeze my eyes closed, needing to shut them out.

  But all I can see is Damian’s wrist being bent at a grotesque angle as Scrooge stole his ring.

  My cell rings, and without looking at who the caller is, I answer it. I wish I didn’t.

  “Meet me at Blue Bloods now.”

  Hearing Jaws’s voice and seeing Scrooge’s face are like a shot of adrenaline through my body. I reverberate in utter fury.

  “I hope you have the information I want.”

  Having our weekly “catch-up” is the last fucking thing I want to do right now, but it allows me to kickstart my plan of attack. Now that the stakes are higher than ever, there is no way I can let Jaws get a whiff of what I know or what I plan to do.

  “Fuck you,” is my response before I end the call. He knows I’m coming. It’s not like I have a choice. Shoving the pamphlet into the console, I put the truck into drive and make my way to the club.

  I need to calm down, but I can’t.

  “I can’t piss Stevie off too much. He is family after all.”

  No wonder Stevie was buying birthday gifts for José’s daughter. He couldn’t get in with the cartel unless he had an inside man. Jaws has no idea what he’s up against, which is why I intend on keeping the cartel’s involvement a secret.

  There is no way I can rat on José. His punishment for betrayal would be far worse than what Jaws could ever do to Tiger. I just need to buy some time until the gala. I need José in my corner.

  Parking my truck in the almost empty parking lot, I put my game face on. I leave my shoulder holster on because the club is closed, and I don’t trust Jaws. The urgency in his tone and the fact Tiger hasn’t wanted to see him since Avery’s death hints that something is amiss.

  I can’t take any risks.

  This is the first time he’s wanted to meet here, which has me guessing he needs the home turf advantage. But for what?

  Banging on the back door, I push past some asshole bouncer who opens it with a scowl. I don’t wait for any instructions and march into the club. Jaws appears a second later, his usual calm demeanor shot to shit. His black hair is unkept, his eyes bloodshot.

  The pinstripe suit he wears is crinkled, and his tie is off-center. Gone is his cocky arrogance. He wants answers, and he wants them now. I fol
low as he leads the way toward his office. The last time I was in here was when I was with Tiger.

  Everything comes back to her.

  “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit,” Jaws snarls, leaning against his desk, arms and ankles crossed. “Talk.”

  “Someone got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” I quip, unable to help myself as I close the door behind me. Seeing him so restless gives me the warm and fuzzies. “But judging from your appearance, I doubt you even went to bed. What’s wrong? Your conscience finally caught up to you?”

  He inhales through his nose. I am poking the bear, and I intend to poke some more.

  “I may be forced to do your dirty work, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and be your lapdog. Ask me nicely and then maybe I’ll tell you all about the meeting with Snow White.”

  I’ve thought about this and hope to fuck this works. Snow was the asshole who gave me my six-inch scar because he decided he didn’t like me. He got out about a year before I did, and I have no doubt he’s back doing what he was doing before he got locked up.

  I know enough about his operation because he liked to brag about his grade A product. I will lie my way through this and hope like hell Jaws buys it.

  “That’s the supplier’s name?” Jaws asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Yup. A neo-Nazi whose specialty is grade A Columbian cocaine. We met at some abandoned warehouse in Chicago. It’s a moving operation, so I can’t give you an address. But the name is good.”

  Jaws runs a hand over his stubble. He appears in thought. “Good. What else?”

  “There is nothing else. I have a fight in Chicago in a few days. I won’t know who’s involved until the day of. You know how paranoid Stevie is.”

  I keep my cool when Jaws fishes his cell from his pocket and sends a text.

  “How’s the club? How’s the new meat?”

  “Fine. Things are picking up, so Stevie will come around. He needs somewhere to hide his dirty money after all.”