Blowback Page 3

  Three…

  “It won’t end well…”

  Two…

  “For my darling sister.”

  And one…

  Without hesitation, I swiftly elbow him in the nose.

  He recoils backward, instantly cupping his bleeding face. Every part of me demands I launch across this table and tear him apart. But when I think about the consequences, about what it would mean for Tiger, I begrudgingly leave him to nurse his broken nose.

  Three of his men are by his side in an instant, but I was faster. They shouldn’t have allowed it to get that far. I shove past them, ignoring their empty threats as I make my way to the exit.

  “Asshole! You’ll pay for that,” Jaws muffles from behind his hand.

  In response, I flip him off with my arm raised high in the air as I walk away. When I get outside, I tip my face toward the heavens and smile. I will happily pay the price for my rebellion because, holy shit, that felt good.

  My cell chirps in my pocket, interrupting my afterglow. “I need you to take care of something.”

  It’s Stevie.

  “Where?”

  “I’ll text you the address. No matter what, I want this taken care of, all right?”

  “Care to be a little more specific?”

  “You’ll know what to do when you get there. Dudley and Vincent are useless. They’re lucky we need the extra manpower at the moment.”

  Stevie sounds a little more on edge than usual. This can’t be good.

  “No worries.” I hang up, unsure what the hell I’m walking into.

  Jumping into my truck, I wait for Stevie to text me the address. When he does, I see that it’s not far from here. It’s in an abandoned part of town near the river, meaning I could be walking into anything.

  With no time to waste, I drive to the location and park my truck a few blocks away. Reaching into the console, I grab my Glock and 9mm and slip them into the shoulder holster. After looking around to ensure I don’t have any witnesses, I slip it on.

  Once I have my jacket on to conceal my pieces, I get out of the truck and do one last sweep to double-check no one is watching. When the coast is clear, I make my way toward the deserted building. Stepping through a hole in the fence, I walk around the back, never letting down my guard.

  I doubt Stevie has discovered I’m playing double agent, but I prepare myself for every outcome there is. The door is half open, so I push it, and it creaks loudly as I step into the darkness. I stop, taking a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the change in light. I also take in my surroundings.

  When I hear a muffled cry and something metal scraping across the floor, I know what I’m here for. I was supposed to be Stevie’s muscle, not his fucking hitman.

  Walking through the darkness, I can’t help but think about how something relatively simple has turned into this. I’ve found myself in a complicated predicament, all because I met someone who turned my life upside down.

  She made me…feel, which is something I never thought would be possible again. No matter how many times I hurt her, she came back twice as strong, showing me what a fierce, determined woman she is. But none of that matters anymore.

  Once again, I find my thoughts drifting to her. I don’t know if this is normal or not. I mean, this has never happened to me before. I spent my entire mid-teens and twenties obsessing over revenge and bloodshed, so this is foreign to me, whatever it is.

  Focusing on what I’m good at—violence—I walk toward the muffled noises. When I turn the corner and come face-to-face with the source, I shake my head, cursing everyone. I just wanted to kill four fucking people. How hard was that?

  Impossible, it seems, because tied to a chair in the middle of the derelict building is some kid. The dirty windows allow some light to stream through so I can see him struggling against the cable ties secured around his ankles and wrists.

  When he sees me, his terrified eyes widen, and he screams around the gag.

  Not having the time or patience to deal with his melodramatics, I charge over and rip out the gag. Before he has a chance to scream, I slap his cheek, startling him. “Don’t piss me off,” I warn. “I’ve had a fucking bad day.” Try month. “What are you doing here?”

  He can’t be older than seventeen. What could he have done to warrant being tied to a chair, about to come face-to-face with the muzzle of my Glock?

  “I-I don’t know,” he stutters, licking his blood-crusted lips.

  “Kid, you lie to me, you die.” Reaching inside my jacket, I produce my gun. I’m not playing.

  The kid struggles, attempting to back away, but he seems to have forgotten he’s tied to a chair. “Okay, fine!” he cries.

  Now he wants to talk.

  “I only took a little. I didn’t think they’d notice.”

  “Took what?”

  When he hesitates, I press the muzzle into his sweaty forehead, giving him some encouragement to continue. “Money!” he screams, his lips quivering.

  “If you don’t tell me what the fuck that means in the next three seconds, they’ll be your last words.”

  “Those idiots left their door unlocked when they stopped for gas. I only took some.” His panic has him missing some details, but he’s said enough for me to piece it together.

  “You thieving little prick,” I snarl, shaking my head. “You stole money from someone you should not have.”

  “I gave it back!” he replies, pleading for me to believe him. But even if I did, it’s too late for him now.

  “What’d you need it for?”

  He swallows, averting his eyes. “I was hungry. Needed a place to sleep.”

  Judging from his ratty jeans, dirty red sweater, and greasy blond hair, it’s safe to assume he’s a runaway. But this isn’t my problem. Stevie sent me here to take care of it—it meaning him, this kid, who stole money to eat.

  Something comes over me. Something in the shape of…pity.

  “Please don’t kill me,” he begs, lowering his chin.

  “Give me a reason I shouldn’t?” I question, hating that his begging isn’t giving me the satisfaction it should.

  “I—”

  His pause has me cocking the trigger, reminding myself of the job I have to do. “Hesitation in life will get you killed. Believe me, I know.”

  “Because it’s not my fault they were stupid fucks!” he says in a rushed breath, catching me off guard. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

  Well, fuck me. This little jerkoff has balls.

  “I only got caught ’cause the cashier saw me. Those morons were clueless.”

  The more this kid talks, the more I like him. “You done this before?”

  He nods. “It’s amazing how oblivious people are. When you live on the streets, you either adapt or you die. You can suck cock to survive, or you can outsmart everyone. I don’t suck anyone’s cock,” he adds smartly.

  No matter how much I like this kid, I can’t let him live. If Stevie finds out I let him go, unless…

  “How long you been on the streets?”

  “Seven months,” he replies.

  “Why’d you leave home?”

  He bitterly laughs. “Home? It was never a home. I would rather sell my ass for a living than go back there.”

  This is a bad idea. I know it. But when I remove the gun from his forehead, it feels like a small part of me returns.

  “You got a name?”

  He blinks, surprised he’s not lying in a pool of his own blood yet. That makes two of us. “Paul.”

  “How old are you, Paul?”

  “Nineteen.” He’s lying through his teeth. And when he sees I call bullshit, he quickly backtracks. “Seventeen.”

  “I have one rule—don’t lie to me. We clear?”

  He nods quickly. “What happens now?”

  Placing my gun back into the holster, I mull over his question because I, too, want to know the answer. “Want a job?”

  “Doing what?” he asks suspiciously.
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  No matter how many times I tell myself this is a bad idea, it doesn’t stop the words from slipping free. “I need you to watch someone for me. But you can’t let her know you’re there.”

  Paul cocks his head to the side. “Who is she?”

  “No one,” I reply, annoyed. He’s asking so many questions, but I remind myself he’s seventeen.

  “You want me to scare her?”

  Launching forward, I grip his sweater and yank his face to mine. He flinches, the slack on his arms tight, thanks to the restraints. “No, I want you to do the complete opposite. Your job is to make sure she’s okay. If anything happens to her, it’s on your head. The head I will fucking detach from your shoulders if she gets hurt.”

  “What—”

  I raise a finger, silencing him. All this talking is giving me a headache. “You want the job or not?”

  “What do I get if I say yes?”

  “I don’t put a bullet in your head,” I counter quickly, watching him gulp. “I’ll pay you, give you a place to stay, and you don’t have to suck any cock. We got a deal?”

  He’s really in no position to be picky, but mad props to him as he appears to think over my proposition. “Fine, we got a deal.”

  Letting him go, I reach into my pocket for a bubble gum-flavored lollipop. “Good choice. Oh, and one more thing,” I say, unwrapping my sucker. “As far as anyone knows, you’re dead. This can’t work otherwise.”

  If Stevie finds out I let him walk, we’ll both pay the price with our lives. But this is too good of an opportunity to let slide. I can’t watch Tiger, but Paul can. I need a man I can trust. In this case, it’s a boy, but I was his age when my life changed forever.

  Is that why I decided to show him mercy?

  I don’t have time for such sentiments.

  “No problem,” he agrees with a sharp nod.

  Popping the lollipop into my mouth, I savor the sweetness because once upon a time, I had the real thing. But now, all I can do is suck on this with the hope it satisfies the craving. But it never does.

  “First things first, you need a shower ’cuz you fucking stink. You also need some new clothes. If you prove loyal, I may have some other work for you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks, his interest piqued. “What work?”

  He’s a persistent little shit. He also has no fear, which is why when he’s not watching Tiger, he’ll be watching Scrooge. Watching and learning. “Just be invisible.”

  He eyes me with interest. I like that he doesn’t back down and can hold his own. “I can do that. It’s what I’ve been doing my entire life.”

  His comment confirms how cruel humanity can be.

  “Good,” I reply, biting into the lollipop with a crunch. Why suck when you can bite? Flicking the stick across the room, I reach into my pocket and produce my switchblade.

  Paul doesn’t waver.

  “Do what I say, and you won’t have to steal to survive.”

  “Just who are you?” he asks, mouth parted in awe.

  “Your fairy fucking godmother.”

  He snickers as I cut through his restraints.

  I can’t help but wonder how different my life would have turned out if I’d had someone cutting through my restraints when I was seventeen. But my shackles were invisible, and I never believed in fairy tales.

  I still don’t.

  Lily

  “Whatever you want, kid, you order,” Christopher says to Jordy, who looks like all his Christmases have come at once.

  Our weekly family dinners—although, today is lunch—are something both Jordy and I look forward to. It’s nice to be able to share a meal together because we have a lot of dinners to make up for. Jordy tongues his cheek as he scans over the menu. Christopher peers down at him with a smile. I can’t believe this is my life.

  I never thought I would be breaking bread—or in this case, pizza—with my brother and son. But here I am, sitting in this arcade that serves ninety-nine cent slices of pizza, proving myself wrong.

  When Christopher walked back into my world, I didn’t know what to think. It felt like a part of me had returned. But there was a lot of catching up to do.

  Thinking back to that night, I can’t help but consider it bittersweet. It was the day my brother returned, and the day a man who I had feelings for showed me just how deep those feelings ran.

  Bull—or as he finally revealed, Cody Bishop—shook everything up beyond repair. He was my boogeyman, the man who took away everything from me. Yes, the decisions I made are mine, but I was forced to make them because the only man I’ve ever loved was shot and killed by a man who helped me forget about him.

  Thinking of Bull’s touches, of the way he made me feel alive, turns my stomach because I feel so fucking stupid. I was sleeping with Michael’s killer, and I liked it…a lot. But to him, I was merely a plaything because he made it clear that if I got in his way of vengeance, he would have no qualms ensuring I wasn’t in his way for long.

  “I will kill your brother. And I’ll…kill you too if you stand in my way.”

  Those words hurt me in ways I never thought possible. I acted with anger, but deep down, my soul wept. After everything we experienced together, I thought that I meant something to him. But I didn’t. I was just a piece of ass. So shame on me. He never made me any promises. I was the one who believed he could change…for me. That I was someone worth changing for.

  But the only man who believed that is dead.

  Bull revealed Michael, or rather Lachlan, died with a ring in his hand. My ring. The ring that’s supposed to be on my finger. But that never happened. I lost my Lachlan, and Jordy lost the father he never got to know.

  Squeezing my upper thighs, I suppress the anger coursing through me because once I got over the shock and cried a thousand tears, that faded and gave way to this pure rage festering within. I haven’t spoken to Bull because I meant what I said.

  We are so done.

  But nonetheless, I can’t stop thinking about harming him how he harmed me.

  I’ve wanted to ask Christopher his version of events because every story has two sides, and I need to hear Christopher’s. But the time has never been right. However, I know I can’t avoid the inevitable. I need to know, so I can…move on.

  “Mom, can I have the buffalo wings and the mozzarella sticks?” Jordy asks with a grin that looks so much like his father’s.

  I find myself seeing the resemblance more so now. I don’t know if that’s because Christopher is back.

  Before I have a chance to reply, Christopher steps in. “Of course, you can. You can have whatever you want.” He playfully messes up his hair while Jordy beams.

  “You’re the best, Uncle Chris.”

  They have connected instantly, which makes me so happy. But this isn’t the first time Christopher has undermined me when it comes to Jordy. I love that he’s stepped into the role of uncle with ease, but when it comes to making decisions about my son, that is for me to decide and not him.

  Just before I have a chance to correct Christopher, Jordy springs up and races over to his friend. Christopher looks on with a smile, appearing intrigued by Jordy’s carefree nature. I suppose our childhood was far from being carefree.

  When I reach for my water, Christopher’s attention lands on me, and he must be able to read my annoyance. “What’s the matter?”

  Every bone in my body is telling me to drop it, but I can’t. There will never be the “right time” to do this, so I decide to take the plunge.

  “I really love how quickly you and Jordy have bonded.” He nods, hinting for me to go on. “But I don’t like when you do that.”

  “Do what?” he counters, arching a brow.

  “What you did there. Undermining me when it comes to Jordy.”

  Christopher appears taken aback. “I didn’t realize I was.”

  “I know we’re still trying to establish our relationship and work out the boundaries, but when it comes to Jordy, I don’t want him thinki
ng he can go to you when I say no. That’s not how things work. It’s just been us for so long and—”

  Christopher cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “I get it.”

  His harsh tone reveals his unhappiness over me speaking up. It appears he doesn’t like being undermined either. Deciding to open up about everything, I clear my throat and hope this doesn’t turn ugly.

  “I wanted to speak to you about something else. About…Lachlan.”

  I can see him physically freeze up before my eyes. But I continue.

  “Did you know about his…about him dy—” But I can’t finish. The fact is still so raw.

  “Yes,” he finally confesses with a sharp nod.

  A deflated hiss escapes me. “Did you know about us?”

  Christopher folds his hands on the table. “Yes.”

  I don’t know how to feel. Angry. Betrayed. Guilty. All of the above seem to apply.

  “I saw the way he looked at you, but you were just a kid. I never thought—” He stops, clenching his jaw. “I never thought you’d do that.”

  I avert my eyes as my guilt rears its ugly head. He’d known about us the entire time.

  “So, I didn’t tell you because even though I was hurt you both went behind my back, I was only trying to protect you from an ugly truth. I knew what it would do to you.”

  “You should have told me,” I reply, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

  He ponders over my words. “I guess we should have told one another a lot of things.”

  And he’s right.

  The inevitable lingers…did he really kill Damian, Bull’s brother?

  Bull’s description of what was done to his brother and him was despicable, and I don’t want to believe my brother and my boyfriend could have done such a thing. I need to know the truth.

  “What about that night?” There is no need for me to clarify when I’m speaking of. There is only one night that triggered our lives to change forever. “Did you do it? Did all of you do it? Did you…kill someone?” I lower my voice, but he heard me loud and clear.

  I don’t regret my question. The time and place aren’t ideal, but will they ever be?

  “Yes.”

  I blink once, stunned. I wasn’t expecting that response.