by Ella Miles
“You don’t know that,” I say, my voice shaky.
“Yes, I do.”
I shake my head. “Everything that can go wrong goes horribly in my life.”
He frowns. “Just focus on my hand. I need you to squeeze as hard as you possibly can. Focus on that, nothing else.”
I look down at where I’m already gripping his hand tightly. I squeeze harder, watching as his hand turns from red to white.
“Just like that, Kai.”
I take a deep breath, the nerves easing just a little.
“Tell me about him,” he says.
I freeze. “Who?”
He chuckles. “Enzo, the love of your life. Tell me what he’d be doing if he were here, and I’ll do it. Even if it means kissing you.” He winks as he says the last sentence, and I can’t help but smile just a little.
“He’d be a wreck, but he wouldn’t let me know. He’d be calm, all business. He’d have me hold his hand like you are doing. He’d talk to me and distract me. Maybe ask me what names we should call the baby. He thinks it’s a boy. I think it’s a girl.”
“Oh, yea? Well, what names do you have in mind?”
“Honestly, I haven’t thought about it much.” Mainly because I can’t imagine naming my child without Enzo. And there are too many dead people I should honor to include them all in the child’s name.
“How about Jamie?”
“No.”
“Beatrice?”
“No.”
“Greta?”
“No,” I laugh. “You are horrible at this.”
His eyes go to the door of the clinic. Apparently, he is not horrible at distracting me, though, because we are here. He jumps out of the car and has my door open and my hand in his again as he helps me out of the car. I lean on him as we walk to the check-in at the clinic.
“I called twenty-minutes ago to let you know Katherine was coming in,” he says.
“If you will just have a seat—”
“No, we will not be having a seat. We would like to see a doctor, now,” Beckett says. He towers over her, giving her a look that says either you show us to an exam room right now or I will burst through the wall myself.
It works.
The woman nods and leads us through a hallway to exam room three. There are only three exam rooms in this entire clinic I realize.
Beckett helps me ease into a chair, before kneeling next to me still holding my hand.
I’m covered in sweat, I feel like I’m burning up, I’m lightheaded, and my stomach feels heavy like a thousand pounds of brick are weighing me down.
“How was I? Did I measure up to Enzo?” he asks.
“Yes,” I nod.
“Good, now what would he do?”
“He would give them sixty-seconds to get a doctor in here before he would open the door and drag the nearest doctor inside against their will and threaten their lives if they don't treat me immediately.”
Beckett looks at his watch. “Sixty-seconds starts now.”
I purse my lips as I exhale. I’m still holding Beckett’s hand. I can’t believe I ever doubted him. He’s a good man. I get the same feelings as when I held Zeke or Langston’s hand. But nothing more.
In some ways, I wish I would get even the tiniest bit of tingle in my fingers touching his hand. Some sort of spark. Anything. Not because I want to start dating right now, I don’t. I’m not over Enzo. I will never be over Enzo. But just to know I could rebuild my life with someone would give me hope.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say, still staring at our hands.
“Time’s up,” he says.
Just as he gets up to hunt down the doctor, the door opens. And my father stands in the doorway.
I immediately burst into tears at the sight of him standing there with worry marrying his face.
“I’m grabbing a doctor. Hold her hand,” Beckett says, tag-teaming with my father before he races out the door. My father takes my hand.
“You haven’t seen the doctor yet?” he asks.
I shake my head, trying to keep the tears at bay.
He grabs my head and pulls me to his chest. “You don’t have to be strong anymore. Let it all out. And I’m going to kill the doctor myself if he lets anything happen to you.”
The door opens again, and Beckett is shoving the doctor through the door, eyes glaring at the back of his head. He’s doing a good job trying to do what Enzo would do in this situation. The main difference would be Enzo would already have a gun pointed at the doctor’s head.
But even though he’s doing everything he can to be Enzo, he’s not Enzo. No one can replace him.
“Hello, Miss Katherine, I’m—”
“Does it look like she needs introductions? She’s in pain and scared, just help her.”
The doctor gives Beckett a dirty look.
“Can you tell me how you are feeling?” the doctor asks me as Beckett resumes his position by my side. Between my father on one side and Beckett on the other, it’s hard for the doctor to get close to me.
“I feel lightheaded, I passed our earlier, I feel like I might vomit, my stomach feels hard as a rock, and I’m bleeding pretty heavily.”
“Hmm, I see,” the doctor says.
“You see? What the hell does it mean?” this time, my father is the one to chastise the doctor.
The doctor ignores the question. “I’m going to listen to your heart and take your blood pressure.”
The doctor does his best to finagle around the two men standing guard over me while he runs the simple tests. “Your pulse and blood pressure are both high.”
“What does that mean?” all three of us say at the same time.
“Not sure yet. Have you been feeling any anxiety lately?”
“Yes, but only after my symptoms started.”
He nods. “I would like to run a few more tests. Get some blood work down, a urine test, and an ultrasound will give us the best idea of what is happening with the baby.”
“Great, let’s do the ultrasound first,” I say.
“I’ll have the front desk call to send for the ultrasound technician. But first the blood and urine.”
I agree.
And both men hold my hand through the blood draw even though I’m not in pain from the needle stick, just the unknown future of my baby.
The men both reluctantly leave me alone in the bathroom for the urine test, but as soon as I exit the bathroom, both are at my side again as we wait for the doctor to return to do the ultrasound.
The doctor enters a few seconds later, not wanting Beckett to come hunt him down again.
“Okay, it looks like it will take about an hour, possibly an hour and a half for the technician to get here. In the meantime, we have a small room with a bed you should rest and try to relax in while we wait for the technician and results.”
“An hour? Are you fucking kidding me?” my father says.
“You know how it works here. We live in a small town, and it’s going to take that long for our technician to catch a flight over. Your only other option is to pay for a medical flight for Katherine from here to the nearest hospital. But that could take twice as long, will be very expensive, and at this point, I don’t think it’s necessary. I believe she is just experiencing some anxiety and high blood pressure. Rest should do the trick.”
Beckett gives my hand a tight squeeze before he releases it and walks over into the doctor’s space. “Do you know how to work the ultrasound machine?”
“In theory. It’s been years since I’ve done an ultrasound.”
“Well, you are about to get some on the job experience,” Beckett says.
The doctor stares at all of us, none of us willing to back down. He sighs. “I’ll get the machine set up and see if it gives us any insight.”
The seconds tick by as I lay back on the exam table with the two men flanking either side of me.
The doctor takes his sweet time setting up the machine, fumbling with buttons, and then
squirting the gooey ooze onto my stomach. He places the wand on my stomach and begins moving it around.
The screen isn’t facing me, so I have no idea what the doctor sees on the screen or if he sees anything.
Hours tick by. In reality, it was only a few minutes, but in my head, worry has paused time. I can’t speak, my voice is gone, my heart is beating frantically with hope that the baby is still okay. That my little part of Enzo isn’t gone.
I look into my father’s eyes. Tears are now free-falling down his face, his nose is red, and his face solemn. He’s already given up hope that the baby is still alive. But the fact that it affects him this much surprises me and makes my heart forgive him that tiny amount I was never going to give him. I was never going to fully forgive him. I do now.
I look to my left where Beckett is gripping my hand like if he lets go, I’ll fall to my death. I may not physically fall, but without the strength of these two men holding onto me, I would fall. I would die. I’ve felt heartbreak before. I live with heartbreak every single day. This baby is the only thing keeping me alive. Without the baby, I’d be dead, from a broken heart.
My heart thuds louder in my chest, each beat potentially being my last. With one word from the doctor telling me the baby is gone, my heart will shatter again. My heart is already weak and vulnerable. This time it wouldn’t be a slow sputtering into darkness. This time I will rapidly decline until my last breath.
I will have nothing left to fight for. And the pain of losing Enzo combined with the pain of losing my child is too much.
“Doctor?” Beckett asks, blinking back tears as he looks into the doctor’s terrified face.
I tighten my grip on both men’s hands. Preparing as best as I can for the coming words. Words that will do more damage than any knife or bullet ever could. His words will pierce right through my heart—healing it or obliterating it.
The doctor looks at Beckett, then at my father. Silently saying something with just his glance.
No, no, no, no…
The only reason he would have to prepare them is if the news is bad. And I can’t handle it.
The doctor finally looks at me. I can’t read his face. His expression has changed. His words slow. And then he delivers the news that will change my life forever…
9
Enzo
I found Felix two days ago.
It took everything in me not to shoot him dead in the street the first time I saw him climbing into his Lamborghini. But I need information before I can kill him. I need to know every person who backs him. I need to know every person following him. Every person responsible for Kai’s death. Because none of them get to survive. And I want no one left to continue the Black organization. The ones on my side need to find new jobs. And the ones against me deserve to die slowly and tortuously.
So I’ve been tracking Felix’s movements from the shadows. And he’s in Los Angeles to gather more men. To get more people on his side. He’s not trying to expand the Black organization to make more money. He’s gathering men because he thinks I’m going to attack, and he needs more men to defeat me.
I should take it as a compliment.
But I just want this to end. I’m tired of fighting. And every man Felix gathers is one more man I have to kill.
So on the second night, I’ve seen enough. Felix can’t live. I can’t slowly torture him for months. He needs to die tonight.
Liesel deserves to walk without looking over her shoulder worried that Felix will reappear.
Langston deserves to heal without thinking he is only healing to take Felix down.
And Kai deserves for her killer to be slain.
Tonight is the night Felix Black dies. The night I kill the last of my half-brothers. And tomorrow I go to work wiping out any of his remaining followers. The day after that, I end the Black organization for good. And then I spend the rest of my life protecting Liesel and Langston from suffering any more pain. That’s the least I can do.
Felix sticks to his routine from the other night. At six, he leaves his hotel, chosen because it's more secure compound than hotel due to the number of people he has surrounding and protecting him at all areas of the property. It’s not enough. He may feel safe with dozens of men, but they are a mere inconvenience for me to get through. He may think he’s protected with the best security systems, but the technology is just one more thing for me to dismantle and show him exactly how vulnerable he is. He may think his weapons will keep him safe, his threat of retaliation with explosives too great for me to mess with, but it’s simply another weakness I plan on exploiting.
I have nothing to fear anymore.
Felix still thinks Langston and Liesel are dead.
And Kai really is dead.
He can’t hurt me. I’m invincible when I have nothing to fear.
My blood boils when I see Felix walk into a club notorious for selling women. The club also sells weapons, drugs, and anything else the owner thinks will make him money, women being his highest seller. He attracts the wealthiest men in the world, because he has the cops in his pocket and guarantees to have the most attractive women for the men to buy.
It makes me sick.
I guess I’m bringing down more than one man tonight.
The club should be impossible for me to get in, but growing up with one of the biggest criminals in the world as your father gives you some advantages. My father had hundreds of illegal clubs. I know how security at these places works.
So I buy an expensive suit, rent the most expensive car I can find, and then drive up to the front door of the place and step out like I own the entire world. A place like this doesn’t have exits. There is only one entrance and one exit. At least known exits.
There is always a hidden exit to get their most exclusive clientele out fast if need be, but that would take days of research to find and exploit. I don’t want to wait days. Not to mention dealing with the security cameras and the armed guards. The best way in is the easiest.
I walk up to the man who serves as security for the club, deciding who goes to the floor of the club, the part that keeps things legal and is the front for the business. Versus the basement, where the real money exchanges hands. That’s where Felix is. That is where I want to go.
“Name?” the man says, but his eyes slowly widen when he takes in my attire and expensive car. He knows exactly which room to take me to, but he doesn’t know my name. His sole job is to know my name, to know who I am, and to make me feel like royalty when I walk in so I’ll come back again and again.
“I’m so sorry, Mr…” the man says, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
I could lie. I could say any name in the world, and he would accept it. He doesn’t care what my name is. I’m sure half the men that come here lie about their names.
But I don’t want to do this as someone else. I want to kill as the monster I am.
“I’m Enzo Black.”
The man’s mouth falls, his face whitens, and his shoulders tense. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Black. Right this way, sir,” the man in the suit says as he stumbles forward like he made the biggest mistake of his life, and he’s about to get slaughtered for it.
I don’t doubt that if I were to tell Mr. Sullivan, the owner of the club, of this man’s mistake that he would be. My name is notorious in the underground. Even on the other side of the country. I can go into any club like this I want. And pay half as anyone else to get the same drugs, weapons, or women, because no one wants to piss me off.
The man leads me down a long hallway. I see the sweat dripping down his neck, his anxiety palpable. He has nothing to worry about, though. I’m not going to rat him out. I have much bigger fish to fry.
He opens the door for me, and I step into the room, hazy with the smoke of expensive cigars.
Silence slowly falls around the room as each man recognizes who I am. One by one eyes widen then change—to anger, to fear, to loyalty. Each man in this room is powerful. Each man in this room runs a criminal
empire. But none of them match the power I have. Half of them’s livelihood depends on me to supply them weapons or technology to keep them safe. The other half have been attacked as my enemy in the past.
And only one man seems to enjoy that I’m here—Felix.
“Mr. Black,” the man who showed me to the room says, introducing me to the room, as if I need an introduction.
Felix scowls as the man says my name. He wants the title. He wants to be the sole Mr. Black.
Not going to happen. I’m going to destroy the Black name.
“Gentleman,” I say with a cocky smirk.
Sullivan stands from his chair, suddenly more nervous by my presence. This is the type of club that doesn’t screen for weapons. They know the only way any high powered man would step into a club like this is with protection. Every man in here has a weapon. They have bodyguards lining the walls.
But there are only two men in this room who know how to wield a weapon—Felix and me. We are the only two men in the room who could not only start a war but finish it.
Felix is here to gain Mr. Sullivan’s loyalty. He won’t be starting a war.
But Sullivan has no idea why I’m here. And that scares him. It should because starting a war is the least of what I’ll do.
“We are just about to start the entertainment for tonight. You can have my seat here.” Sullivan leads me to his chair like I’m incapable of finding it by myself. And then snaps his fingers.
A woman wearing nothing but panties and six-inch heels struts in. “What can I get you to drink, honey?” she asks.
“Scotch,” I say, my blood already boiling.
But I keep my anger from showing.
The woman returns promptly with my drink as the “entertainment” starts. And by entertainment, I mean torture.
Two hours later, I’m sick. I literally feel like I’m going to vomit. The amount of women these men are buying does something to my insides. Acid is burning from the inside out.
My plan was to wait until the end, then do my damage. But I can’t wait any longer.
I pull out my cell phone and press the button that will bring the second man down tonight, and then I wait. It takes five fucking more minutes before I hear the sirens in the distance grow close.
