by Emma Renshaw
“I have your money,” I say. “All that I took plus double your standard interest.”
Luca raises his eyebrows, calculating that amount in his head. I know this greedy fucker will keep most of it for himself. “Really?”
I nod. “I’ll make it triple if Callan is dismissed as an associate.” I won’t let Callan go back to that life, not after his show of support toward me. Even if the offer is accepted, his days could be numbered. Callan and Braelyn will get out of this, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ve looked for a solution since I left, but never found one. That won’t happen now.
“Interesting,” Luca says, swiping his thumb along his lips.
“Quadruple,” Callan says ruggedly, breaking free from my hold and trying to stand straight. I reach out to balance him, but he shoves me off.
“Quadruple?” Luca’s eyes light up, excitement showing.
“How do you know I have that?” I ask quietly.
“I still know you. You have it, fucker,” Callan answers roughly. He holds a hand over the wound on his shoulder, straightening his spine as much as possible. “Plus, the information I have that would send every head boss in the organization to prison. It’s yours. Here’s a small freebie of the information I’ve collected—the dickwad who just shot me is sleeping with your wife and stealing a thousand dollars a week from your restaurant.”
Surprise rocks through me. Callan has always been scrappy and will do damn near anything for his sister, but collecting information on the mafia? He’d be buried alive in a grave before he knew what was happening if they caught wind of it.
My hand tightens on my gun, keeping my aim on the guy itching to shoot someone again. His face is red from anger. He’s definitely more loyal to Luca’s father than Luca. Luca can be swayed with the right amount of money; his father has ordered enough hits to fill multiple cemeteries.
This fucker is itching for a bloodbath, especially now that this secret is on display. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luca look toward the man in question.
“Is it true?” Luca asks. I reach one of my hands back, squeezing Tatum’s hip and pushing her slightly away from my body, but close enough that she’s hidden from view. My hand goes back to my gun. That touch was too short, but it will have to get me through this.
The man sputters, outraged, searching for an answer.
Luca takes a step back, contemplating. “So it is true.”
“He’s lying,” the man protests.
Luca stares at him then turns his attention to us, rubbing his hand along his jaw then through his hair. He looks back to the man accused of stealing and sleeping with his wife. The other goons tense and stand straighter, waiting for an order. The entire room pauses, waiting for what will happen.
I shift my aim toward Luca, but not directly on him. Luca slowly pulls his gun from his suit, pointing it to the floor then aims his gun on the traitor. He shoots him in each leg. His pained cries fill the gym as he topples to the floor, his hands covering the gaping and bleeding wounds.
“Shit,” Kiernan says under his breath.
My aim is fully on Luca, anticipating his next move. His focus is on the small fleck of blood on his white shirt. “Fucking hate messes. Get him out of here,” Luca says calmly to the other two men.
One of them takes off his shirt quickly ripping it and wraps it around the wounds. “Don’t want blood in your car, boss.”
Luca nods and motions with his hand that they should carry on. The men pick up the injured asshole and carry him out like it’s something they do all the time. The only evidence something happened here are the small drops of blood on the floor.
“Always surprises me that some areas of the body don’t bleed a lot,” Kiernan muses to himself.
Tatum’s name chants through my mind. She shouldn’t be here. Dammit. I need a way to get her out of this. The anger filling me quickly turns to dread when Luca points his gun toward us swinging it from one side to the other.
“Now what to do with you lot,” he mutters.
“There are four guns trained on your head, and you only have one for the four of us. The way I see it, you’d have four bullets in your skull before your finger even hit the trigger,” I taunt. “The money I offered you would do you no good if you’re dead.”
“I’d take the money,” Kiernan says. “Bodies are a bitch to clean up.”
“The money I took plus quadruple your standard interest,” I repeat.
Luca’s eyes flare with intrigue.
“And my information,” Callan pants, his breathing becoming heavier with each second.
Luca cocks his head, pointing his gun straight at my head then my chest. I stop breathing, moving my finger to the trigger. Luca smirks then lowers his gun. “Bodies are too much trouble. Get me my money,” he says.
“Roman, grab the money,” I say, since he’s closest to the bags. Roman grabs them quickly as Kiernan covers for him, none of us trusting Luca until he’s out that door. Roman tosses each bag to Luca, and they each land with a heavy thud. “All the money plus quadruple.”
“Empty your gun,” Callan demands.
Luca laughs, pulling his phone from his pocket and calling one of the goons back to retrieve the bags. He empties the bullets from the gun, sticking them in his pocket, but hands the gun to his goon. He doesn’t take his eyes off us and doesn’t speak until the goon is out of the building.
Callan takes a set of keys from his pocket, tossing it to Luca’s feet. “Storage unit 1314 at the place by the pier. That information will clean out your rats and make you a wealthier man.”
“You have my word,” Luca says, pressing a hand over his heart. “James, you are free.”
“And, Callan? He’s in this deal. Callan is free, too.”
His eyes move to Callan’s.
Faster than I thought he could move, he pulls another gun from the inside of his suit, and he shoots Callan in the stomach. “If he lives, you can keep him, too.”
Callan becomes dead weight in my arms. I lower him to the floor, Kiernan and Roman stepping in front of us with their guns aimed at Luca. “Don’t shoot,” I demand. If we shoot him, the rest of the mafia would rain down on us faster than we could prepare.
Luca leaves the building without looking back.
“Fuck,” I grit out, pressing over the wound on Callan’s stomach. “Get an ambulance here!” Tatum hovers next to me, pressing her hands on top of mine.
Callan is gasping for breath and groaning in pain.
“Get…get Brae out of Chicago,” he asks, staring into my eyes. “Please.”
I nod. “I will. As soon as I can. I’ll get her out.”
Callan nods, closing his eyes.
“Don’t,” Tatum says, bringing her hand to his face. “Wake up. You have to stay awake. Braelyn needs you.”
His eyes flutter open, locking onto Tatum. His mouth opens slightly, but nothing comes out.
“Cops and ambulance are on the way. I reported a burglary gone wrong. Suspect fled on foot,” Roman says.
“Turn off my cameras,” I say, not breaking eye contact with Callan. Fuck. I should’ve tried harder to get him out sooner. I shouldn’t have left him in Chicago.
“Kiernan’s working on it and erasing the footage and stashing the guns.”
The few minutes it takes the ambulance to arrive feels like an eternity. Callan’s eyes start to shut again.
“Stay awake, Callan. Fuck. Stay awake,” I plead.
His lids lift slowly. He coughs once, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Keep fighting. Braelyn needs you. I need you back in my life. Keep fucking fighting. Don’t fucking close your eyes. Dammit. Callan. Stay awake.”
When the paramedics burst through the doors, Callan’s eyes close and stay shut.
“Dammit, Callan. Fight. Fucking fight.”
Chapter 46
Tatum
“We have to find Braelyn,” James says, squeezing my hand. Since the ambulance took Callan, James has stay
ed by my side—holding my hand or with his arm around my shoulders pressing me into his side—not letting me stray farther than an inch. His use of the word we and ironclad grip on my hand settles my nerves.
James and I have so much to talk about, but I’m not going to bring it up in a hospital waiting room while his childhood best friend is in surgery.
We answered the police’s questions about a burglary gone wrong. Kiernan dove into a story as soon as the police set foot in the building. Callan, a friend visiting from Chicago for the holidays, wanted to see his friend’s gym. While most of the group were sitting in the office, Callan was standing at the front of the gym looking at pictures on the wall. A man broke in through the open door. Callan moved to restrain him but was shot in the process before he could reach the suspect. The would-be burglar took off when the rest of us piled out of the office. We corroborated his story, each of us filling in details about the masked man coming to steal from James—a man known to keep cash on hand for any neighborhood families that need some help. Kiernan weaved the story so thoroughly and convincingly, turning to the rest of us at different points to back him up, that I almost believed that’s what actually happened.
A tale of a burglar breaking in is easier to believe than we had a showdown with the mafia. The freaking mafia.
“We’ll find her,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Do you have any idea where she is?”
“Yeah,” James lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around me. He places a kiss on top of my head and breathes in deeply. “I can’t stop imagining what could’ve gone wrong. Can’t lose you, sunshine.”
I reposition myself, wrapping my arms around his middle, not even paying attention to the metal bar of the chair between us that’s digging into my ribs. “You’re never losing me, honey.”
“So fuckin’ glad you’re safe.”
I squeeze his middle instead of responding. It’s been four hours without an update. All of our friends are surrounding us, and my family will be here soon. None of them know Callan, but they know James. Every time his eyes sweep around the room landing on each person that is here for him, he swallows thickly.
I burrow my head deeper into James’s shoulder, whispering my confession. “I was so scared.”
“What were you doing there tonight?”
“I needed to see you. I couldn’t handle thinking I may never see you again, look into your eyes or watch you laugh.” My breath hitches, my voice cracking at the end. James smiling and laughing is my favorite sound and sight in the world. I needed to see him one more time. “I can’t tell you how many books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched where the girl goes out putting herself in danger, and I always thought she was just making the situation worse.”
James grunts. I poke him in the ribs. “I know,” I whisper. “I never thought I’d be that girl, but here we are. I’m her. Thing is though, I never understood them, never understood what was really at stake. I’d take on the freaking world, James, I’d take it on, just to see you one more time.” I lean my head back, staring up at him.
His gray eyes are filled to the brim with emotion as he stares at me. “I know what I said before I left, but I wouldn’t even last a day without you. I would’ve have found a way to come back and be with you.”
I stretch, pressing my lips to his. His hand weaves into my hair at the back of my head, keeping my lips against his until he breaks the kiss.
“How did you sneak out?” There’s slight humor mixed in with the exasperation in James’s voice.
I roll my lips between my teeth, biting back a smile before making my voice as innocent as possible. “I said I was going to take a shower and left through the window.”
James smirks, shaking his head. “I’m so fucking pissed at you.”
“Why?” I ask, taken aback.
“You put yourself in danger. I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.” He brushes my hair behind my ear and raises my face to his.
“For what?” I ask.
“Not telling you earlier that I am completely in love with you.”
A warmth fills my entire body. There’s a part of me that knows he loves, I feel it, I trust it. I still want to hear the words. I want to hear him say it in his deep, husky voice. “You love me?”
“I love you to the depths of my soul, Tatum.” James’s hand tightens in my hair, bringing my lips to his, and muttering against them, “Depths of my fucking soul.”
I
love
you
to
the
depths
of
my
soul,
Tatum.
My heart starts pounding, beating to the rhythm of that sentence. I breathe a sigh of relief, luxuriating in the warmth of his love. I close the last millimeter between our lips, kissing him over and over, soft kisses all over his lips as I whisper my love back to him.
We break apart, and my head falls to his massive shoulder. “Can’t believe I’m thankful for being shot,” James mutters.
I raise an eyebrow. “What?” I ask.
“If I hadn’t been shot I wouldn’t have met you.”
“I don’t like thinking about you in pain or shot or losing blood. I have to believe we’d have met another way. Maybe we would’ve met at the grocery store.”
“In your cat pajamas?”
“My kitten pajamas,” I correct, the corners of my lips twitching.
“Cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You in your crazy PJs and polar bear slippers. I wanted to kiss you so bad.”
James body stiffens, his spine going straight. I look up at him, but his eyes are on the entrance to the waiting area. My eyes turn to see my parents, brother, and Pop Pop rushing in, looking around. James clasps my hand tighter, standing and pulling me up with him.
My mom throws her arms around me, and my dad wraps the both of us up in a hug, kissing the top of my head. My brother and Pop Pop step up next, neither of my parents letting me go entirely.
“I have a lot to explain,” James says. My family’s eyes turn toward him. “I owe every one of you an explanation, but know I’d die to keep Tatum safe. I’d walk through a storm of bullets to get to her. My past isn’t pretty, but I won’t let it touch her. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure her light keeps shining. Making sure she smiles and laughs every day until my final breath.”
I stop breathing, staring at him, amazed at the way he put it all out there. My family doesn’t know what’s going on; I gave a very, very skimmed-over version—I told them I’m in a hospital waiting room with James hoping his friend makes it through surgery after being shot.
“This isn’t your fault, baby,” I say. I know what he’s doing; he’s taking the blame, stepping in front of it and taking a stand. For me.
“My choices led us here, sunshine.”
I shake my head but fall silent. James and I stare at each other. He’s begging for forgiveness, and I’m trying to ease his worries. My family may not know what’s going on yet, but they will, James will give them that honesty.
He’s the best man I know.
And, he’s mine.
Mine.
Pop Pop breaks the silence, trying to ease the tension that’s flowing in our small group. “Sounds like a hell of a story, son” He steps toward James and puts his hands on James’s shoulders. “Not a damn doubt that you’ll take care of my girl.”
The tension radiating off James eases. My mom breaks from me, rushing over to James and nudging Pop Pop out of her way, and throws her arms around him. “We don’t walk away when things get tough in this family.”
James swings his surprised eyes to me before breaking into a huge smile. It drops just as quickly when a doctor walks through the doors.
“Callan Fox’s family?”
“Here,” James says stepping up to the doctor. Everyone stands behind him, our friends getting out of their chair
s and rushing over to have his back.
“You’re family?” The doctor asks.
James stretches to full height as he places his palm on his chest. “He’s my brother.”
Chapter 47
James
“Go away.”
“Nope,” I respond dryly.
“Get shot and still can’t ever get any fuckin’ peace,” Callan grumbles, staring up at the ceiling. “What’s a man have to do to be left the fuck alone?”
Tatum and I haven’t left Callan’s side since he woke up after surgery. He’ll have to stay in the hospital while he heals from the massive blood loss and internal injuries, but luckily, he’ll be okay.
“You stepped in front of a bullet for me, and you think I’m just going to leave your stranded ass here?” I ask gruffly, irritation prickling through my system.
“Done it before,” he spits.
I bring Tatum’s hand to my lips and kiss her soft skin before I drop it, scooting my chair up to the hospital bed. When I grab Callan’s hand, he tries to yank it from my grasp, but I hold on, willing him to look at me. I’ve spent years wondering how I could honor the friendship Callan gave me as a kid. I searched for other choices, but I never found one. He’s out of that life now.
Now I will do everything for him and Braelyn.
“Callan.”
Callan doesn’t move his gaze from the ceiling. The only acknowledgement I get is his jaw clenching and a muscle jumping in his cheek.
“Look at me,” I demand.
Callan’s insane turquoise eyes swing my way. Anger and pain are waging a war within them. “What?” His voice is a low growl.
“Brother…”
Callan snorts, shaking his head.
I ignore it and continue, confessing everything I wish I could’ve since I left Chicago. “I’m sorry. So fuckin’ sorry. I tried to find a way to get you and Braelyn here without all of us ending up in a pine box.”
Callan swallows hard. His eyes dart to Tatum and back to me.
“Callan, I—”
