Reclaimed (16 page)

“I’m going with Hawk and Jet,” Flick told him with a stubborn tilt to her chin that I remembered well.

“You’ll go where you’re told to go,” Hawk snapped, his first sign of real emotion in hours. “You have no business even being here.”

“Jet.” She didn’t even try to argue with him as she turned those pretty blue eyes on me, a plea in them that I would have been helpless to ignore if it had been any other time.

This time I knew I couldn’t give in, even if it damned me that much more in her eyes. If Santino and his men were at the Connecticut house, there was no doubt there would be bullets flying as soon as we got there. I wouldn’t risk her safety even to soften her toward me.

Clenching my jaw, I turned my eyes on Ciro. “Drop her.” 

I heard her suck in a pained-filled breath but didn’t dare look at her right then. Right now, when I could only guess how dangerous the situation we were about to walk into was, I couldn’t risk her. I’d gladly let her think it was the ruthless bastard in me by doing it without a flicker of emotion showing on my face. Because keeping this female safe was the only thing that kept me sane right then.

Chapter Eleven

H
AWK

E
VERYONE AROUND ME WAS TALKING
about the plan to storm Morgan’s house. Strategizing on who needed to be where, who was going in first, what exits we should use. It wasn’t like we could just walk up and knock on his fucking door. Santino and his men were there, with who knew how many guns. We couldn’t risk Gracie by going in half cocked and blowing the place to pieces.

Even if that was what I wanted.

I had to remind myself that I had to be patient. I wouldn’t risk so much as a hair on Gracie’s precious head. It was hard to keep that in mind when my body was one huge ball of pain and my heart was throbbing from being away from Gracie for too long.

Was she okay? Was she scared? Had anyone touched her?

Those questions were driving me to the edge of madness because I didn’t know.

I fucking needed to know.

“How much pain are you in?”

I lifted my head to find Ciro’s scary ass standing beside me. The set of his jaw and the way his blue eyes shot cold fire out from under his ivy cap didn’t intimidate me like it did his own men. I’d worked with this huge Mafioso for over five years now.

“I’m fine,” I gritted out.

Ciro watched me with his predatory eyes for a long moment before shrugging and turning back to the other men. “Jet, you take Trigger and Colt and enter from the front. Jack, Raider, and Matt, from the side. My men will take the rear.”

I stiffened at this new plan. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Keeping your dumb ass alive for your sister and woman.” He spoke without looking at me and then went back to giving out orders.

I stepped forward, not scared to get in his face. I’d face the devil himself to get to Gracie. Ciro wasn’t far off, and I would take him on in a heartbeat if that was what it would take to get to her sooner. “I’m going in the front.”

“Sure you are,” he agreed without batting an eye. “With me.”

“No way. I’m going in first. Gracie needs me.” I was shaking with rage—and pain. Fucking hell, I hurt so damn bad. My shoulder wound pulled and ached like a motherfucker and the one in my back was just as bad. I could barely lift my shoulder, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from doing what I needed to do.

Ciro blew out a long, frustrated breath. “Your Gracie needs you breathing, dumbass. You can barely move for the pain and I’m not going to have your death on my conscious. So pay attention or I’ll make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

Knowing I had no choice, I bit back a curse and crossed my arms over my chest, not caring that it made my shoulder hurt that much more. Fuck Ciro. Fuck anyone who got in my way. If something happened to Gracie because I wasn’t through the door first, I would slit their throats.

“Alright. Let’s get packed up. We will be at Morgan’s house within twenty minutes.” Ciro nodded at his men and everyone checked their guns before they filed out of the small building we’d stopped at to strategize before heading on to Morgan’s home in Connecticut.

It was dark out, the moon offering little light to see by as the others got into the five SUVs. I wanted to be in the same one as Jet, the one that would arrive first, but Ciro gripped my shoulder—the one that hurt like a bitch—and tightened his hold until everyone was where they needed to be. With no room in any of the other vehicles, I was forced to climb into the back of the last one with Ciro.

“Keep your head.”

I didn’t look at him as the driver got behind the wheel and started the SUV, turning my gaze to glare out the window into the dark night instead. I wanted to punch the man in the face, break his jaw and a few teeth in the process, but that would get me nowhere but dead before I could hold Gracie again.

“I know how you feel, but if you want to keep your woman alive this is how we have to do it.”

My head snapped around. “You don’t know shit. She’s the fucking air in my chest. If something happens to her…”

Something on Ciro’s face stopped me from saying anything else. Even in the dark interior of the vehicle I could make out the almost bleak look in the guy’s eyes. Muttering a curse, I turned back to the window, not wanting to see that look. It only mirrored my own.

Before we reached the Morgan estate Ciro put in his earpiece and started reminding his men of the plan. I knew Jet and Uncle Jack had one too and wanted one of my own so that I could at least hear what was about to happen. Fuck, we didn’t even know if Gracie was at Morgan’s house. She could be anywhere.

The SUV we were in slowed as the three in the lead sped forward. I felt like a blind man struggling to find his way as I waited. My heart was racing, my palms sweaty, my body one big throbbing pain. Fear of the unknown churned in my gut as I waited. And waited. And waited.

I heard gunshots in the distance, but nothing else. She was safe. She was safe. She was safe. I had to keep mentally repeating those three little words over and over again or I knew I was going to lose my shit. She was safe. She was safe.

Please God, let her be safe.

It felt like an eternity before Ciro was nodding his head at whatever he heard in his ear. “All clear. They have the house.”

The SUV came to a stop outside the huge house and I didn’t waste time waiting for the driver to open my door as I pulled out my Glock and ran into the house. The front door had been kicked in, the expensive wood nothing more than a pile of splinters now. A man in a suit who I thought I recognized as one of Santino’s men was lying on the floor just inside the door. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, and I didn’t care

“She’s going to need a doctor,” I heard Uncle Jack say and my heart stuttered in my chest. Tears I didn’t care who saw burned my eyes as I rushed down the hall in the direction I’d heard my brothers’ voices coming from.

“Yeah. That’s a bad wound and it looks like it’s infected. These bastards didn’t even care that she was shot.” Hearing Jet didn’t make the pain in my chest lessen any.

I was going to vomit. I knew it. There would be no stopping it. I sucked in one deep breath after another and finally—finally—found the room where everyone was. They were in the family room, and my wild eyes searched around, taking everything in even as I looked frantically for Gracie.

There were two more men in suits lying on the floor, blood pooling out around them. A man in a polo shirt, dress pants and graying hair sat on a chair with Trigger’s gun pointed at his head. That had to be Morgan. At his feet was another lifeless body. His eyes were open, but blank in death, but I could make out enough details to know that this was Morgan’s son.

“Santino wasn’t here,” someone told Ciro who had come in behind me. “We’ll have everyone keep an eye out for him.”

I barely heard the two men talking as my gaze went around the room. I saw Uncle Jack first. He was on his knees on the floor beside Gracie, with Trigger on her other side. Tears poured down her bruised face as she held her arm against her and spoke quietly to her grandfather. Jet stood over them, his gun at the ready, protecting the most precious thing in my world.

Seeing her tears gutted me and I was across the room before I even realized I was moving. Uncle Jack lifted his head and nodded once before getting to his feet. I dropped down next to her. My eyes ate up the sight of her. Her face was one big bruise, making the rage start to build in my veins again. Someone had hit her, repeatedly it looked like. She was crying, and the pain I saw deep in her whiskey-brown eyes made my own body hurt that much more.

“Baby,” I breathed and carefully stroked a finger over her jaw. Now that I could see her—touch her—my heart finally felt like it was beating again.

“Hawk.” A sob made her shoulders shake as tears fell faster. “You’re alive. Oh God, I was so scared that you were dead.”

“Never. I’d always find a way back to you, baby. Always.” I lowered my head and gently brushed my lips over her eyes.

“Hawk, I want to go h-home.” She was starting to shiver, but I didn’t know if it was from pain or if shock was setting in.

“Get me a blanket,” I yelled at the room, not caring who carried out the order as long as someone got it done.

“We’ll take you home as soon as we get you checked out, honey,” Trigger told her, keeping her distracted.

Her eyes went to the other man, her chin trembling uncontrollably. “I-I thought it was just a piece of glass.”

“It’s okay, honey. We’ll get you all better soon.” He carefully turned the arm closest to him and showed me the gunshot wound to the back of Gracie’s arm. There was only an entrance hole, no exit. The fucking bullet was still in her arm.

What worried me the most was the red streaks around the wound. She was already showing signs of a bad infection. “Did you call an ambulance?”

“On their way, brother. They said they were about fifteen minutes out.” Raider called from across the room where he was helping the others clean up the dead bodies. The cops were about to be all over the place. They would put the bodies in one of the SUVs and take them somewhere else to dispose of them.

“What do you want me to do with him?” Ciro called out, waving his gun in Morgan’s face, making the old man blanch and flinch away from the gun. He was gray in the face, his eyes terrified.

I looked back down at Gracie. “What do we do with the old fuck, baby?”

Another tear fell from her eyes and she turned her head away, not looking at me. “I don’t care. I don’t care.”

The pain in her voice was from more than just physical pain. It went soul deep. She’d been betrayed by her family—or what she thought was family. I’d have to find a way to tell her that they weren’t. Would she hate me for keeping that from her? Would she be glad that the people she’d thought she shared DNA with weren’t her family?

“Take him down to the warehouse by the pier,” Jet told Ciro. “We’ll be down tomorrow night to deal with him.”

“Got it,” Ciro assured him as he lifted his gun and used the handle to knock Morgan out. The room was filled with the sickening thud as the old man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped onto the floor beside his dead son. “Call me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”

Without another word, Ciro and his men left. Seconds after I heard three sets of tires burning rubber out in the wrap-around driveway, I caught the sound of sirens in the distance.

Gracie grasped my hand. Her fingers were ice cold but she held on to me with a surprising strength. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never,” I vowed and brushed another gentle kiss over her eyes. “Never.”

Chapter Twelve

Felicity

“
T
WICE IN JUST A FEW
months. This is a real treat, Felicity,” Mary Donati said with a smile as we shared a cup of coffee in her huge living room. “I’m so glad you could spare a little time for me, darling. I know how busy you’ve been with your new job. How are the Armstongs doing?”

Pain sliced through my heart at the thought of Emmie and her family, but it wasn’t nearly as harsh as it had been the night before. Only twenty-four hours and I was starting to handle the loss of them in my life a little better. “Things are still crazy with them, I’m sure.”

I’d seen my aunt just a few days before Demon’s Wings had started their summer tour. When I’d come to visit her and my uncle, I hadn’t worried that they would sell me out to the Club. If there was anything that I knew about my aunt it was that she was loyal to a fault. Unlike my mother, I knew that Mary would keep any secret I dared to tell her. Not for the first time, I wished I’d been born to this woman rather than Marcie Bolton.

I wasn’t about to explain to my beloved aunt that her son had basically deposited me on her doorstep like a sack of potatoes before going off to what I could only figure was going to be a war zone. I knew she wasn’t blind to the reality of who and what her son was, but I also knew that the less she knew, the better off she would be if the Feds were ever stupid enough to bring her in for questioning.

“I’ve missed you, Aunt Mary.” I took another swallow of my coffee and gave her a smile that wasn’t nearly as forced as it had been when I’d first arrived.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.”

More than two hours had passed since Ciro had dropped me off and my anger had dropped from boiling over to slightly simmering. I wanted to stay mad at him—and Jet—but I understood why they had done it. Once I’d started to calm down, I’d realized that I probably would have been in their way. I would have been a distraction that could have gotten someone hurt or killed.

Hating that I was admitting that Jet had been right to tell my cousin to drop me off—even if it was just to myself—I finished the rest of my coffee and listened indulgently to Mary as she continued on and on about how proud she was of her son. Another hour passed and my gut started the churn with anxiety as each second seemed to take forever to tick by.