Ash: Devil's Crucifix MC (50 page)

Chapter 29

When Shayla woke Tuesday morning she was slightly disorientated, until she moved and the pain in her shoulder reminded her she was in the hospital. Her next thought was that she was alone, and she didn't like the feeling. She looked to the side to see if there was a glass of water on the bed table and saw Neil, asleep in one of the visiting chairs. She smiled and moved a little more to see if she could reach the cup of water, and let out an involuntary gasp. Neil's eyes opened.

"Morning lover," she said to him, trying to control the pain in her voice.

He gave her a sleepy grin, and then stood up, retrieved the cup for her and let her sip from the straw.

"You don't have to hide it from me," he told her, as he set the cup back down. "Being shot hurts like hell. Been there, done that."

"I never noticed a scar on you from that," she mentioned.

"Can barely see it. I had some plastic surgery done on it, so the girls wouldn't know it happened," he told her.

"Hmm, maybe I can salvage my Italian photo-shoot after all," she mused.

Neil shrugged, saying, "Probably. I never did find out what he was using as a weapon, but the holes in the door frame weren't all that large."

"I'm glad you are alright," she told him.

"I'm rather happy about that myself. I'll go get a nurse to get you some pain pills and see what the prognosis is for you getting out of here," he told her.

"Alright," she said. "Are West and Brian still here?"

"No, they took off at three o'clock. Fire and Swift are here right now. Why?"

"I was just going to suggest some coffee for them or something. Have you been here all night?"

"Came in about eleven," he told her.

"Anton?"

"We'll talk after we get you a nurse, but he still lives. He's in hiding, and just as dangerous."

"Shit," she said.

After the nurse left, promising to check on a release time for her, Shayla waited until the door closed to say, "So, tell me. Sydney said something was on the news."

She listened while Neil recited his activities last night and also the information on the shooter.

"A real assassin?" she said, unable to hide the shock. "I suppose we should feel honored, though I don't feel anything except pissed off."

"I think I was the target," Neil informed her.

She frowned, and said, "I fail to see how that should make me feel better."

Her Doctor came in and helped a nurse to change her bandage, giving Neil instructions on when and how to change the wrapping after discharge.

"We should have you out of here by ten o'clock," her doctor said.

"Thanks," she said. "How long before I can deal without the pain pills?"

"At least a week. I'm giving you three weeks’ worth in your prescription," he told her.

She frowned, "What about mobility?"

He smiled, and said, "If you are planning on a triathlon, best to cancel."

"What about weight lifting, or aerobics?" she asked.

"Give it a month," he advised. "Then start slow and build back up the damaged tissue. You might look into some non-aggressive yoga as well. Right now, use the sling and keep it as immobile as possible. Best to keep it as immobile as possible for three weeks, otherwise it's likely to ache and slow your recovery for much longer. Do you have a regular doctor?"

"No, but I'll get one. Thanks," she told him.

"All things considered," he added, "you came through well. Could have been much worse. An inch to the left or right and you might have been here for a week or more. Or left last night."

Once the doctor left, Neil said, "I want you to go to the safe house, the two bedroom in North Miami. I'm going to call Sydney and have her meet you there. You're going to take a cab."

"I can ride on the trike," she objected.

"I'm sure you can, but the trike is easy to spot and follow," he reasoned. "Now, here's how you get there so that you aren't followed," he told her, and then outlined the actions she should take.

She nodded and memorized the procedure. It wasn't exactly elaborate, but certainly more than she would have put into a simple cross-town journey.

"When am I going to see you again?" she asked.

"Tonight," Neil assured her.

"Alright," she said glumly.

"Selene called me just after I got here last night," he explained. "She said there is a warrant out for Anton's arrest for the twenty-five kilos of cocaine they discovered in the tunnel. The tactic he used to keep himself out of jail from the raid, is going to sink him this time. The trap door is right under his chair in his office. He's looking at some serious time. So, we're going to lay low and let the cops pick him up."

She searched his eyes, "What about the club? What kind of backlash are we looking at for the stink-bomb?"

"No one knows it was me," he told her. "No one saw me, and when I got here I told West and Brian that the club was crawling with cops and firemen when I arrived looking for Anton. The timing is suspicious, but I can live with that."

"I hope you mean that literally," she said.

"I do," he agreed.

"Good," she said. "I had a lawyer come in for us last night, Margaret House, because I wanted you to have as much freedom of movement as possible. She backed the detectives off of us, but only until Thursday. Then I have to come clean about you being at the house. So, we'll need to talk about that once we're all at the safe-house tonight."

"How are the girls?" he asked, his voice worried.

"Good," she told him. "More worried about me than being shot at. I don't think they have put together the fact that they could have been shot as well. It just hasn't occurred to them, or if it has, it's a theoretical event, not something real."

He nodded his head thoughtfully, "I hate the idea, but it will be best to distance ourselves from them until we have an upper hand again."

She met his eyes, and said, "We're not going to have that until Anton is dead Neil. You know that, right? Even from prison he can hire gunmen and have us harassed. Thanks to that asshole last night, and the news, everyone knows where we live."

Neil grimaced but nodded his head.

"Neil, I'm not fond of the idea of killing either. In fact I hate it, but Anton is not giving us any choice. He's dangerous, and has now proven he's willing to go to extreme lengths to kill us. The gunman was after you last night, but he would have been after me and Sydney next. And what is stopping Anton from using your sisters as hostages? He has to be taken care of. He's too dangerous to do anything else."

Mentioning his sisters in the context of being hostages made Neil look like she just slapped him. She wanted to apologize instantly, but refrained. The fact was, if she was Anton, that's exactly what her next move would be. From the look in Neil's eyes, he was coming to grips with that bare-bones fact as well.

"Excuse me for a moment," he told her and walked to the door and opened it. There he talked to Swift and Fire, asking them to head over to his mother's house, to make sure nothing happened to them. "I've got this," he said, "and I'll call mom and let them know you are on the way."

Swift's eyes went wide instantly, as he did the math and came up with (1 mil over 
fuck
)
.
 It took Fire a few moments longer, but his eyes suddenly glowed with a deep anger that Shayla was sure had a lot to do with how he got his road-name.

"On our way," Fire told him. "Food is probably better there anyway."

"Don't doubt it. How long can you guys stay there? I'll need to make a call to West to see about relief," Neil asked him.

Swift said, "How's next Tuesday? Better yet, I'll just plan on living there for a while. I still owe you for that night at the strip club. Consider this my payback."

Neil nodded, and shook his hand. "Thanks Swift."

"I'm with Swift," Fire told him, and without another word he started walking for the elevator, Swift following close behind.

Neil came back in and pulled out his cell-phone. After calling Amanda, and explaining his fears, he told her about Fire and Swift. His voice was subdued for the rest of the conversation, mostly grunts of agreement and apology.

Once he hung up Shayla said, "Amanda did mention to you that none of this is your fault, right?"

Neil gave her a grin and admitted, "Yeah, she did say something like that."

"Take it to heart Neil. We'll get through this and while it's not our fault, it does fall to us to fix it, so keep your head in a productive state of mind."

He nodded and sat back down. "Right," he agreed.

"So, how do we find Anton?" she asked.

"Never been much of a tracker. I assume he has one or more safe-houses. His house is mostly burned down, according to the news, and the cops are looking for him. He'll go to ground for today, and probably tomorrow. He'll use Skype to talk with his trusted men. There's five of them who stand firmly behind him, though they are all solid club members as well. They won't allow him to use Knights resources for tracking and killing me or you. This morning Selene and Miami Vice are going to freeze his accounts and assets. So, he'll have what he has in caches. Let's say fifty grand."

"Sounds reasonable," she agreed. "Will he leave the city?"

Neil thought about that for a while, "I don't know. He has a sister up in Palm Beach Gardens."

"Too obvious. The cops will be all over that one," she mused.

"He's originally from Orlando. He might have connections there," Neil offered.

"That's a possibility," she agreed. "I hope not though."

"If he's out of the city, and low on funds, at least the kind of funds he needs to hire assassins, he's less of a danger," he pointed out.

"Yes, but we still can't go home," she told him. "The problem isn't solved. I'll sell the condo. I'm not attached to it yet, though I did like it. It was our first home. But even if we move again, that's still a temporary fix. He wants to find us. Unless we move out of the state, he'll eventually find us."

"So, you aren't going to be happy with him just in prison?" he asked. "Yes, he'll have contacts still, and have some pull with the club, but like I pointed out, he has few personal resources and none to throw at us from the club."

"I hate to put it like this Neil," she said sadly, "but are you willing to bet your sisters on that?"

Neil's eyebrows furrowed in deep worry, an expression she didn't like on his normal calm.

"No," he finally agreed. "No, you're right. We need to get to him before the cops. It'll be more difficult to deal with him once he's in jail." He lifted his eyes to her, "I'll be the first suspects if he turns up dead."

"I don't think so. We're much less involved than you think. I'll call Margaret and talk with her about it though."

"You trust her that much?"

"She'll tell me if she can't help, but she won't hurt."

At ten o'clock Neil walked her out to the cab, got her into the back, then leaned in to give her a kiss, while passing her a 9mm Beretta to slip into her purse.

"You good on the route?" he asked.