Beware 2: The Comeback (23 page)

“When you planned on moving here, Maurice knew you’d be too far and he wouldn’t have eyes on you. Maurice heard I was still doing some research on the case—I mean we all know how boring it gets in Creole—so while I was in New York for an officer ceremony, he found me and that night, we decided to team up. He told me to get close to you just in case anything went wrong with his plan. Maurice gets what he wants from Ace and I get what I want… having the title as the infamous Greg Price, a great captain known for taking Ace Crow down for good. His body will be proof. They will praise me for the rest of my life.” He grins wickedly. “So, like I said—” he breathes, as if he’s just finished a race—“I will have
everything
I need.”

“He’ll just kill you in the end,” Bianca mutters. “Maurice is greedy. He’ll turn the body in himself, take the money, and run.

“That won’t happen. I’ll kill him before he ever lays a finger on me. I’ve got myself covered.” Smirking, he walks toward the door, but I shout his name, standing. He stops and turns slowly, icy gaze flashing from the light.

“Is Aden okay?”

Nostrils flaring, he snatches his eyes away, looking forward. “He’s fine.” He steps out, but before the door shuts, he says, “I may seem selfish in this moment, but that’s a child, and I would never let anything happen to him. Unlike Crow and the men that surround him, I still have a soul. Fortunately, he doesn’t know what’s going on and he doesn’t deserve to be threatened or harmed. Once mommy and daddy and auntie are gone, who knows”—he presses his lips—“maybe I’ll take over. Raise him as my own. He’s a good kid. He doesn’t deserve to be killed because his mother chose the wrong man.”

Although he bashes me right in my face, hearing that Aden is okay relieves a small part of me. He won’t let anything happen to Aden. That’s good. Even if something does happen to me, he’ll be safe in the end. Though I refuse to put my guard down, in Greg’s eyes, I can tell he means what he’s saying. He cares for Aden, maybe not as much as he does for me, but he’s always had a good connection with him. It never seemed faked or forced. It seemed real. Genuine. Was it his idea to keep Aden out of this room? Somewhere that, I hope, is more comfortable?

Unfortunately, I’m not given the chance to ask because the door slams shut, and he walks away. That was a soft spot for Greg. He reacted way differently than I thought he would.

“He’s pretending to be cold and heartless, but I can tell he still cares,” I exhale. “I think, deep down, I hurt him, that he really did love me. Maybe he thought Ace would never come back, that he was in the clear to keep me for life. You saw how he reacted at the mention of Aden. Aden’s safe somewhere, and Ace is on his way. All I have to do is put a little pressure on him, make him see that this is wrong. Greg is a good guy and, like he said, he still has a soul. He can’t be all dirty.”

“You think so?” she asks. Her voice sounds hopeless.

I nod. “Maybe. But it doesn’t mean he’ll let us go.”

She crosses her legs Indian style and sighs, almost defeated. “Unless Ace finds us, we’re our only hope.” Tucking her matted, trimmed hair behind her ear, she looks up at the ceiling, and her upper lip twinges. “Well, at least he left the light on.”

I shake my head. The last thing on my mind is laughter, but I laugh anyway. If there’s someone to be trapped with, it’s her. She knows me just as well as I know her. We’re like sisters, maybe not by blood but by heart and spirit.

We’re getting out of here. Whether she feels the hope I have or not, I know we’re getting out. If they wanted us dead, we’d be dead already.

We survive. We live. But instead of only fighting for what we believe in, we fight until our last breath is stolen. We fight because we’re strong and because we
always
find a way to make it.

Heavy In Your Arms – Florence + The Machine

It was the longest flight of my fucking life.

Every minute I worried something was going wrong, that maybe one of them was already dead or all of them and Maurice was just pretending to keep them alive. I don’t negotiate. That’s a hell-fucking-no.

At the end of all of this, I will have everything
including
my family. He will have nothing, not even his own life. While on the flight, I realized I couldn’t be calm about this shit.

He’s fucking with my life.

Fucking with my family.

Fucking with my sanity.

He’s fucked with the wrong one.

As soon as the jet lands, Trent and I hop into his Bugatti and drive to the nearest gun dealer.
Don’t come armed, my ass
. Trent pulls up in the alley, and I glance over my shoulder as he climbs out of the car, peering over his before placing his sunglasses on. “All set?”

“All set. The place was completely empty.”

“Good.” After buying three thousand dollars worth of firearms, I pay our dealer and we’re on our way to Creole.

“How many men do you think will be there?” Trent asks as he puts the car in drive and pulls off.

I load my gun, cocking the barrel. “Most of his men are in New York. I’d say six to eight are here.”

“Only two of us. You realize that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to give him what he wants?”

I crush my lips together, giving Trent a hard, stale face. “Is that even a question that should be asked?”

He lifts his hand in the air rapidly before grasping the wheel again. “Hey, things change. First you said you would, but now you’re loading guns, getting ready for a showdown.”

“Nah.” I load another one. “That motherfucker won’t get anything but his heart ripped out.” I look out the passenger window, feeling all of the rage consume me again. I still can’t wrap my head around it being Maurice.

Can’t trust anyone.

“It’s three-fifty.” Trent informs me of the time. He parks the car across the street from an abandoned house. I watch the windows, eyes narrowed.

“I know.”

“Why would they be here?”

I look down at the tracker in my lap. I bought it as soon as I was free of Nixon’s hell cell, and while I was on the phone with Maurice—as he taunted me and carried on and on like I knew he would—I marked this as his current location. An abandoned home only six miles away from London’s home makes sense.

I don’t feel the need to answer Trent right away because my answer comes walking right out the front door. On his cellphone is Greg. The sight of him makes me snarl. My upper lip peels back, fists clenched.

“Fucking bitch,” Trent mutters.

Greg hops into his truck and pulls off immediately, most likely on his way to London’s place, expecting me. If he’s here, then that must mean they’re here as well. Whipping my gun out, I tell Trent to come on and rush across the street, gun hot and ready.

They wouldn’t leave them here alone. Someone’s around, most likely one person. He’ll send as many men as he can to be at the place I’m supposed to be. It’s what I’d do. In order to beat the enemy you must think like the enemy.

I circle the house, steps slow and cautious. I hear deep laughter coming from the backyard. Pulling my silencer out, I twist it onto my gun, and once Trent’s is on I rush back, spotting a bald, bulky man with tattoos on his forearms and neck on a cell phone.

“Oh shit!” Spotting us, he drops the phone with haste and starts to reach for the gun in his holster but it’s too late. I pull the trigger, a bullet penetrating the center of his skull. His heavy body collapses, and I walk towards him, staring down at the blood pooling around him.

Trent bends down to pick up the keys in his hand. “These aren’t car or house keys. Might be useful.” He stands up straight, clutching them in hand.

I nod, turning towards the balcony door. It’s open. Anyone could be inside. I tell Trent to cover me as I walk in. He follows closely behind, keeping check of our surroundings. The floor creaks when I step onto the peeling linoleum, and I pause, watching the kitchen intently. Nothing sounds but the dripping faucet. Someone else is here. I can feel it. It’s too fucking quiet.

Lifting my gun, I check the entire kitchen, then the living room, and next the vacant bedrooms. All empty.

“All clear,” I murmur from inside.

Trent walks in right away, gun still held high. Cocking his head to the left, Trent motions to another door.

I look from him to the brown door. Stepping past him, my gun pointed at the door, I walk as quietly as I can towards it and when I reach it, I twist the knob slowly.

Someone groans, and I place my finger on the trigger, snatching the door open completely and turning on the light switch. But the face I see causes me to drop my guard immediately and run for them.

“Shit! London!” I pull her up in my arms. She groans in response. “I’m here, Red. Never should’ve left.” I examine her frail body, taking inventory of her injuries. Scratches and bruises on her arms, blood under her nails. She put up a fight. Greg knocked her unconscious. There’s a red blotch on the side of her head. Fuck. At least she’s still alive.

“Boss,” Trent calls from the corner.

I look towards him, and in his arms is Bianca. Eyes wide, I place London down gently and rush for Bianca. Placing two fingers to her neck, I check her pulse. “Fuck, I don’t feel shit.”

Trent’s ear hovers over her mouth and nose. “She’s barely breathing.”

“What the fuck did he do to them?”

Anger— fury—returns with a vengeance all over again. I can’t let it fuck with my head. I have to keep it on straight. I have to think clearly. “Take her to the hospital and take London with you.”

He narrows his brows. “Boss—”

“Now, Trent.”

“Maurice… you can’t take him and those men by yourself.”

“I’ll try. Aden isn’t here, which means he still has him, and if anything, and I mean any fucking thing, happens to my son, I will raise hell.”

Trent shakes his head. “They’re going to try and
massacre
you, Ace. You know that, whether they get what they want or not.”

“A risk, Trent. A risk I’m willing to take for my flesh and blood.” I point down at Bianca and take a quick glance back at London before returning it to him. “Look what the fuck he did to them. I refuse to drop everything right now. I know where he is, and I’m gonna fucking handle it.” I step towards London, unlocking the cuffs and picking her up in my arms. “It’s what they’d want. They wouldn’t want me waiting around for them to recover. They’d want me fighting to end it all.” I look up. “Doing this.” Then, I turn for the door and walk out. When I make it to the car, I buckle London in, Trent following my lead with Bianca in his arms.

Shutting the door, I head towards the passenger seat and yank out my second gun. Trent walks around the car, gripping my shoulders. “If anything happens and I’m not there I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re doing this for me. My family.”

Releasing my shoulder, he steps back, taking a look at the house. Nodding, he says, “Should get them to the hospital.”

“Should.”

He turns, and without a look back, he hops into the driver’s seat and skids off, hauling ass to the hospital. I know Trent. He’ll drop them off at the emergency room and then come back for me. I won’t let him die because of my mistakes. He made it out alive the first time, and I intend to keep it that way.

I watch him drift down the street, but before he can disappear, the car comes to a screeching halt, and the back door swings open. Out climbs London who slams the door behind her and runs in my direction with broad, glistening eyes.

Stunned, I start to walk towards her, and when she meets up to me, we clash. Her arms bolt around my neck, holding on unbelievably tight. A hold saying a million words.  My heart catches speeds when she lands in my arms, when I realize she’s safe… that they’re safe. But there’s still one more we need to save.

Our son.

“Ace! Oh my God,” she breathes. Relief.

“Red,” I breathe. “You gotta get the hell out of here, babe.”

She pulls back, shaking her head, hazel eyes full of anger. “No, Ace. No! Fuck that! He has Aden!”

“I know, and I’m going to take care of it, London.”

“I’m not letting you go alone. Are you fucking insane?! Do you remember what happened the last time?”

I grip her shoulders, jaw locked. “I’m not letting you come with me, London. It’s not safe.” I look over her shoulder, spotting Trent standing outside his car, confused. “Go back with Trent. You’ll be safe with him.”

Narrowing her eyes up at me, she turns around and yells, “Get Bianca to the hospital, Trent! Go! Now!” Trent remains in place, but when I realize London isn’t going to budge on this one, even if I tell her to take Trent’s place and get Bianca there immediately, I nod at him. He hops in his car and drives away.

After taking a look around the deserted neighborhood, she faces me and asks, “Do you know how to hotwire a car?”

I look towards the rusted brown
Honda
coupe parked along the curb of the home across the street, and clutching London’s hand, I march for it. The door is already unlocked.

“Keep watch,” I tell her. I kneel down, snatching the cover of the fuse box off and rearranging the wires. Once the car rattles to life, I climb in the seat and London runs around to the passenger side, sliding in and shutting the door behind her. Putting the car in reverse, I ask, “What the hell happened in there?”

Eyes wide, her gaze bounces in my direction. I put the car in drive, and she says, “I… tried to manipulate Greg. He didn’t fall for it.”

I grimace, and my eye twitches. “Manipulate as in, what? Seducing him?”

“I’ve done it before,” she says defensively.

“That was fucking before, London. He’s been acting with you.”

“And I was acting with him.” Her voice is stern.

I grab the wheel tighter, and when she notices the tension, she places a hand on my thigh. “It was the only way I could think of to get us out of there,” she confesses.

I grunt, brushing it off. Right now is not the time to argue. I need to focus. I pull onto the main road and jet down the street, eyes forward.

“He knew I was just trying to get out of there.” She holds her breath for a moment, lowering her head. “I… hesitated. He asked me if I really loved him, and I hesitated. If I would’ve just went along with it and said yes, he never would’ve questioned my motives. That’s when he started threatening me, squeezing me and… choking me.” Her head shakes back and forth as she runs her fingertips across her neck. “It’s my fault he hit Bianca. She was shouting at him, telling him to stop hurting me. He went to her and slapped her around, then pistol-whipped her. He did the same to me.” She reaches up, touching the red spot on her head.

“I’ll kill him,” I growl through clamped teeth, my grip fastening around the steering wheel.

“He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to Aden earlier, but since I tried that, he may not care anymore. He might actually use Aden to get back at me.” She reaches for my free hand, and when I glance over, tears are in her eyes. “Ace we have to get to him. Now.”