by Monica James
Jaws nods, but something is brewing behind those soulless eyes. “So everything is on track then? There’s nothing you want to add?”
Standing my ground, I shake my head. “Other than I can’t wait to see you bleeding at my feet, then no. We done?”
“For now,” Jaws replies.
I go to turn, but I should have known nothing is this easy.
“Oh, by the way, Avery died. I’m sure my sister has told you all about her.”
I pause, ready to reach for my gun if I need to. “How is this relevant to me?” I ask casually.
Jaws chuckles, but there is nothing amusing about the sound. “I thought you’d want to know, seeing as you were balls deep in her a few nights ago.”
The room is silent…before a searing pulse electrocutes me into submission—literally.
I reach for my Glock, but it’s too late. A pain burns straight through me, and I buckle to my knees. But regardless of every part of my body contorting and spasming in pain, I attempt to dig into my holster for my gun.
“I don’t think so!” Jaws kicks me in the stomach, winding me as I topple to my side. “Not so smart now, are you, asshole?”
Twitching, I attempt to regain control of my muscles, but seeing as Jaws just used a stun gun on me, I am failing miserably. Jaws exploits my vulnerability for his gain.
“This is what happens when you lie to me. I’ve been nice, but no more.” He zaps me once again before I have a chance to argue that nice isn’t a word in his vocabulary. “That’s for breaking my nose!”
The shockwave to my nervous system is indescribable. I try to fight it, but the electrical pulse twitches throughout me.
“Snow White isn’t Stevie’s supplier! He’s a bottom feeder. Stevie knows better than to deal with someone like him. I know who it is…I just need confirmation so I can kill them…all!”
If he knows, then why does he need me?
It must be the electrical current that just fried my body because I suddenly put two and two together. José is linked to Stevie because of this infamous woman both men love. The betrayal in Jaws’s tone confirms this.
She chose Stevie over Jaws, and because of this, Stevie is now linked to the cartel. This isn’t about drugs; it’s about revenge.
How the tables have turned.
“I want him to think he’s on top when I take it all from him…just how he did to me.”
Jaws’s comment now makes sense. He is a lover scorned.
When someone else confirms what you already know, it makes it all the more real. Jaws doesn’t want to act in haste in case his paranoid mind is making up tales. But the fact he hasn’t acted means he’s hesitating in fear because perhaps, what he believes is actually true.
He is underdog to Stevie. The notorious, feared Jaws is the runner-up, and he hates it. He has lost something he loves, and I intend to exploit that because I just found his weakness.
Chuckling intermittently as my muscles continue to twitch with the aftershock of being stunned, I taunt, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“What does?” Jaws spits, dropping to one knee in front of me and yanking me up by the collar of my shirt.
“Losing someone you love.” His face twists into rage, which just breathes new life into me. “You don’t want to kill Stevie because you don’t want to believe the truth. But you need me to prove what you already know.”
He flinches, a flicker of emotion fueling me on.
“You don’t want her to hate you, do you? Because that’s what will happen if she finds out what you intend to do.”
“You shut your fucking mouth!” he screams, shaking me.
I do the complete opposite. My body may still be suffering from the aftershocks of being zapped, but my tongue is working just fine. “She chose him and not you because you’re weak. And pathetic. Grow a pair and either do something about it or get the fuck over it.”
Jaws snarls before placing the stun gun to my stomach. But the electrical surge coursing through my body is so worth it. “I’m pathetic?” he mocks, holding me tightly as I convulse around the gun. “My sister is the reason you’re about to fry to a crisp. I hope she was worth it. How’d her pussy taste?”
Spittle runs down my chin as I seize uncontrollably. But that doesn’t stop me. “Like…bubble…gum,” I manage to push out before I collapse in a heap. I know I need to stop. Tiger’s safety is at stake if I don’t. But I can’t.
This “deal” always had an expiration date. I’m no one’s snitch. I was stupid to think I could do this. Sooner or later, I knew I’d fold. I’m prepared to tell her everything because I can’t stay away from her. And I don’t want to.
Besides, Jaws already knows we broke his little rule when I fucked Tiger in the back seat of her truck. But it was so much more than that.
He was just waiting to strike. This was never going to be a fair fight because our agreement was bogus.
“I see everything. You think you can fool me. I know she went to you when she should have been with me!” I don’t know how he knows. I wouldn’t be surprised if he followed Tiger. It’s clear he has an unhealthy obsession with her.
My body screams MINE!
Jaws dives on top of me, resorting to good old-fashioned violence as he begins to beat the shit out of me. I can’t fight back. My body is nonresponsive, suffering the repercussions of being on the receiving end of a stun gun.
He kicks me in the stomach, the ribs, and finally, the face. My head snaps back with a crack, and with one eye closing over, I witness him spit on me, just as he did my brother. “The deal is off. It’s open season.”
My heart constricts, knowing what this means. I did all of this to protect Tiger, but I failed. And now, he will ensure she pays.
“Don’t you fucking touch he—” But the words are lost to the darkness as Jaws delivers the final blow, which changes everything forever.
Jolting upright, I push the sweaty hair from my brow, frantically scanning my dark, dank surroundings through one eye. The other is swollen shut. I instantly reach under my collar, sighing in relief when I feel Damian’s chain still secured around my neck.
It’s quiet. All I can hear is the distant passing of cars and my winded exhalations.
Groaning, I clutch my side because everything hurts. I need a minute to catch my breath before I stand because I don’t know if my legs will hold me up. But I suppose that’s a normal response to being electrocuted and then beaten unconscious.
I know I should have stopped when I was ahead, but I couldn’t. Getting under Jaws’s skin is a drug, and I’ve become addicted. But now, the gravity of the situation hits me hard. I need to call Tiger.
Patting myself down, I realize I’m without two guns and one cell. “Motherfucker,” I hoarsely curse under my breath.
Inhaling through my nose, I use every ounce of strength I can muster and come to a slow, shaky stand. It feels like I’m on a merry-go-round, but I place my arms out for balance. Having no idea where I am, I commence a slow stagger, listening to any vibrations of life, which will help me find my way out.
When I woke, I was lying in a puddle of water. Peering overhead, I see the moon peeking in through a hole in the damaged roof. I must have been out for hours, which means I could be anywhere.
Breathing past the pain, I persevere, scanning from left to right. It appears I’m in an abandoned building, but the question is where? The sound of scurrying has me pausing and listening. Adjusting to the darkness, I focus and see a change in the lighting up ahead. It’s subtle, but it’s a sign that either a door or a window is close by.
Clutching my side, I hobble forward, desperate to figure out where the fuck I am. When I get closer to the light, I see a door jarred open slightly. It’s all the motivation I need to quicken my steps and shove it open with my shoulder. It’s stuck, but after a few tries, it finally budges.
When I barge outside, I can’t gulp in fresh air fast enough even though it’s fucking cold. The snow and wind are punishing, but wit
h no other choice, I slowly make my way toward the steel fence a few hundred yards away. The faded address painted on the brick building to my left tells me I’m in Flint.
Needing to catch my breath, I stop and take a minute. I don’t have time for this, but I won’t be any good to Tiger if I pass out again. Light laughter catches on the wind, which kickstarts my stagger toward the road. The voices grow louder, and when I slip through the serrated hole in the fence, I determine they’re coming from a building down the road.
The dim streetlights allow me to see that this neighborhood is almost deserted. The voices are probably coming from some illegal dealings, but that doesn’t deter me as I break into a winded dash. The numerous cars in front of the building hint this mechanic is probably a front for a chop shop, but I don’t care what they are.
I just need to use their phone.
Banging on the steel door, I hear the voices quiet. I doubt they get visitors often. “Open up. I just need to use your phone.”
When there is no reply and no movement inside, I add, “I’ll give a thousand dollars for your trouble.”
Open sesame.
The roller door slides open and out comes a man in greasy blue overalls. When he sees my state, he pauses from reaching into his inner pocket. He doesn’t need a gun. I’m barely standing.
“Thanks.” I push past him, hobbling inside. I don’t care that there are a dozen or so expensive cars parked inside. This is none of my business. I have enough to deal with.
The man offers me his cell.
Dialing quickly, I don’t bother with small talk when Paul answers. “Where is she?”
“Where have you been?” he asks, panicked.
Sometimes, I regret not shooting him. He asks so many fucking questions.
When I don’t bother answering him, he drops a bombshell that explains his panic. “She’s here, man. Venus let her into your room.”
Groaning, I lean against the wall for support. “Fucking, Venus,” I mutter under my breath. “How long has she been there?”
“A couple of hours. The last I saw, she was making your bed. She won’t sit still. Something is definitely up. She hasn’t seen me, though.”
I’m relieved she’s okay, but a) why is she in my room? And b) why is she in my room? I wonder what Jaws told her. He said it was open season. This can’t be good.
“Good, make sure it stays that way. Come get me. I’m at—” I look at the man, arching a brow as I put the phone on loud speaker. He rattles off the address. “Got it?” I ask Paul.
“Whose phone are you calling me from? And why are you in Flint?”
“I’ll tell you all about my adventures when you get here,” I sarcastically bark, flinching because it hurts to speak.
The man clears his throat, reminding me I’m forgetting something.
“Oh, and be a darling and bring a grand with you, okay?” I don’t bother waiting for him to reply before I hang up.
Passing the man his cell, I hobble outside, waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Since when do I have a cavalry? Looking down at the tattoos on my knuckles, which spell lone wolf, I shake my head, wondering when my life got so damn social.
Lily
I didn’t second-guess my decision when I jumped into my truck and drove here. Nor did I tell myself what a bad idea it was to ask Venus to let me wait in his room. When twenty minutes became thirty, I realized that if I didn’t give myself an excuse to be here, I was going to leave.
Which is what led to my cleaning spree.
Bull’s room was clean, but once I was done with it, every corner was gleaming.
Venus was sitting in the office reading a magazine, so I decided to sit with her and wait when Bull still hadn’t arrived. We spoke about everything and anything, but I couldn’t stop looking at my watch every two minutes. I eventually excused myself and went back to Bull’s room.
I’ve tried calling him all afternoon, but his phone was switched off. So without much of a choice, I pulled back the clean sheets and settled into his bed with Fluffball, which is where I’ve been for the past few hours—waiting.
The TV is merely background noise because I need something to fill in the silence and drown out the heavy staccato of my heart. Jordy asked if he could spend the night at Patrick’s, and Erika didn’t mind, as she knew I was going through a rough time losing Avery.
Secretly, I was thankful he wanted to spend time with his friend because I didn’t want him spending so much time with Christopher.
I haven’t spoken to Christopher since our argument. It wasn’t even an argument. It was more of the truth finally being revealed. He’s come to see me, but I haven’t let him in. It feels almost hypocritical for him to come to my home and offer his condolences when he couldn’t give a shit about Avery when she was alive.
I don’t know why coming here offers me more comfort than seeing my own flesh and blood. Nothing with Bull has ever made sense, though, so I don’t expect this to either.
I need Bull to tell me the truth. The whole truth. I want him to look me in the eye and tell me Christopher is lying because it will confirm what I already know. I’ve known it all along. I didn’t want to admit it because I had my chance at having my family back, but if that family is based on lies, then I would rather be alone.
Jordy will hate me, but I can’t have Christopher in my life if what Bull says is true. I wonder if I would feel the same way if Lachlan was alive?
Bull is linked to my past, present, and future. He holds the answers, and I want them—now.
However, when the door bursts open and in hobbles a bloody, injured Bull, it seems my list of questions just grew.
“What happened?” I toss off the blankets and sprint over to help Bull into the room. I wrap my arm around his waist and coax him to lean on me for support, much to his dismay.
We stagger toward the bed, where he slumps onto the end, hissing in pain. He looks like hell. His eye is swollen shut, and his face is bruised an angry red and purple. Dried blood is smeared under his nose.
Rushing into the bathroom, I wet a hand towel with warm water. My hands are shaking so badly when I return to the bedroom and see him hunched over, breathing steadily.
“Bull?” I cry, running and dropping to my knees in front of him.
Making sure not to apply too much pressure, I place my palms to his cheeks and slowly reposition his face so I can look at the damage. “Jesus,” I hiss, flinching when I see how badly injured he really is. “What happened? Did you fight tonight?”
I doubt this was a fair fight. I’ve seen Bull in the ring. He doesn’t lose. Someone had an advantage over him to be able to beat him this way. Glancing down at his shirt, I see the white material is stained a dark red.
His suspenders are already off, hanging limply by his sides, so I gently lift his shirt where it’s untucked on one side and gasp when I see his burned, reddened flesh. “Wh-who did this to you?”
“I…I ran into a door,” he pants. Even beaten and bruised, he can’t help but be a pain in my ass. “Stop fussing. I’m fine.” He shrugs from my grip.
“You are so far from fine,” I argue, standing up. “You need to go to the hospital, but I know you won’t go, so I won’t waste my breath.”
He gestures for the towel in my hand. When I give it to him, he limply wipes at his face, doing a poor job of wiping off any of the blood. Unable to watch him make more of a mess, I snatch it from his hand and take over.
I hide my surprise when he allows me to help him. He must be really hurt.
For minutes, we don’t speak. Bull simply sits quietly, letting me wipe his face clean. The bruising turns my stomach, and each time he flinches, I know the bruises I can’t see are so much worse.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Why are you here?” he counters instead.
“Can you, for once, answer my questions…please?” I cry, so done with the games.
Bull’s chest rises with an inhale, before depressing w
ith a defeated exhale. “I met with the cartel. I’m doing them a favor for a favor in return.”
I blink once, stunned. “They did this to you?”
“Not directly. But because I didn’t tell someone the truth, they decided to get in a lucky shot by using a stun gun and then beating me when I was down. Fucking pussy,” he mocks, shaking his head slowly. “No surprise he needed to fight dirty.”
My lower lip trembles. “Who?”
Bull slowly lifts his chin, reading the desperation in my eyes. I need him to stop lying to protect me, because that’s what he’s doing. I’ve always known. I just didn’t want to face it…until now.
“Why are you here?” he asks me once again.
Wringing the soiled towel in my hands, I confess, “Because I…believe you. I think?”
“Believe what?” he questions, his jaw hardening.
“Everything,” I reply in a whisper, hating how this betrayal changes my life. If only I could live in denial and pretend everything is okay. But I can’t.
I won’t.
I’m expecting to see relief, but I don’t. I get the complete opposite. “Did you tell him this?”
“What?” I ask, nervously licking my dry lips. Why does he sound so…panicked?
When he waits for me to answer him, I add, “No, I haven’t spoken to him in a few days. Why?”
“Where is your son?”
My heart begins to beat faster and faster. “He’s sleeping over at his friend’s house. My neighbor.”
“Call her.” When I hesitate, he presses, “Now.”
I don’t know what’s going on, but the urgency to his tone has me quickly retrieving my cell from my bag and dialing Erika. I watch anxiously as he comes to a slow, unsteady stand and hobbles to the bedside table. When he opens a drawer and produces a gun, I yelp.
“Hi, Lily.” Erika’s cheerful tone calms me somewhat because if Jordy were in trouble, she wouldn’t be so calm.
“Hi, Erika. Sorry to call, but I was wondering if I could speak with Jordy real quick?”
I lock eyes with Bull, who waits for her reply. But he knows what she’s going to say even when I don’t.
