The Family Business 3 (24 page)

Junior and I took down the two sentries standing guard in front of the small East New York brownstone with no resistance, thanks to a major distraction from Paris. Those two Muslim brothers didn't have a chance the way she sashayed down the street in that skirt that left nothing to the imagination. Hell, even I had to raise an eyebrow at how sexy she looked, and I didn't want any part of that little vixen.

The moment the sentries were down, Paris kicked off her six-inch heels, snatched up one of the fallen guards' automatic weapons, and ascended the stairs, holding position at the door. Junior and I posted up at the bottom of the stairway, guns drawn, sending four men scurrying into the backyard. Two were then stationed on either side, while another two were set up as lookouts.

I thought I'd gotten it out of my system, but I really did love this Jason Bourne type shit that Vegas was always dragging me into.

“Where the fuck are they?” Junior groaned, checking his watch for the fifth time in the last five minutes. He looked at me with a frown.

“I know,” I said, trying to keep Junior calm while we contemplated our next move. So far, all the intel that Elijah had given us had panned out, except for one big thing: He should have been out that door by now with Sasha in tow.

Bam! Bam! Bam!
Three gunshots rang out from inside, without return fire. I turned to Junior, whose worried expression said,
This is not good
. Paris looked like she was about to say fuck it and just go in, so Junior and I ran up the stairs. Three of our men took our place at the curb, pointing weapons at the front door. We had ten other men around the building, ready to go at a moment's notice.

I turned to Paris, who was holding the gun she'd confiscated from the dead guard like she really knew her shit.

“You ready for this?” I asked. She checked her gun, giving me this sensual look that made me feel very uncomfortable.

“Just keep up, handsome, and make sure you don't get your dick shot off. I might have use for it after this,” she said, pushing the door open.

I glanced over at Junior, who shrugged his shoulders and said, “That's just my sister, Dee. She's off the wall. I don't know what else to tell you.” We followed her inside, with six of our men trailing behind us.

Junior and Paris handled things with a military precision, using hand signals as they entered the foyer to communicate that they spotted some of X's men nearby. One of those men came to the foyer, and Paris took him down with a quick burst before we stormed the living room, killing all but one of the men in there. Junior snatched him up like a rag doll.

“Where are they? Where are my brother and my cousin?” Junior's voice would have sent chills down the spine of any normal person, but this man clamped his mouth shut, refusing to answer. Junior whacked the guy over the head with his gun, sending him slumping to the floor.

At the sound of a disturbance, another soldier came rushing in, gun raised. Before I could take the shot, Paris landed a cluster right in his midsection.

“Good shot,” I called out just as I took out another one of X's men who appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Fan out,” Paris told our men. They all did what they were told, moving from room to room in pairs, taking out X's men on the first floor. Junior headed up the stairs in front of Paris and me. Two quick shots later, we heard bodies falling.

At the top of the stairs, there were three doors, the first of which was locked. Paris and I stood with our guns pointed at the other doors, ready to shoot, while Junior slammed his size eighteens into the first door, spraying the two gun-toting men hiding inside. It turned out no one was in the second room, but like the first room, the third room was locked. Tiptoeing up to it, Junior placed his ear against the third door. He jumped back, signaling to us that he'd heard movement.

With Paris and Junior on either side of the door, weapons ready, I ran up to that door, slamming my foot against it as hard as I could. The frame shattered upon impact. Don't ask me how, but Paris's overzealous behind scooted right past me, killing two assailants in no time. Junior and I rushed in and finished off the third. As bad-ass as Paris was, she softened up, squealing like a girl when she spotted the woman tied up on the makeshift bed.

“Sasha!” I could see the relief on Paris's face. She and Sasha must have been close.

When Paris ripped the tape off Sasha's mouth, the first thing Sasha said was, “Vegas! He's in the basement with X.”

Before she finished her sentence, I was out of the room and headed for stairs, with Junior on my heels.

“Anybody go into the basement yet?” Junior questioned the second we hit the first floor. Two of our guys led us to the kitchen, where Kareem and James were having a firefight with at least one of X's guys, who'd barricaded himself in the basement.

“Is it X?” I asked.

“I don't think so,” Kareem replied. “But whoever it is, they've got themselves barricaded in, so we can't go down the stairs without taking a bullet.”

“What the fuck's the hold up?” We all turned to see Paris and Sasha standing behind us, holding guns. Junior quickly explained the situation to them, and Paris glanced over at Sasha. Whatever she communicated in that look, Sasha understood it, because without a word the two of them stripped their shirts and bras off like they were about to go on stage. I watched as both tucked their guns behind their backs and forced their way past us to the basement door.

“Move,” Paris said to a still-stunned Kareem and James, who did exactly what they were told.

I turned to Junior and said, “We really going to let them do this?”

“Dee, I've seen these two pull more rabbits out of their hats than Houdini himself. It's a damn shame us dudes are so weak.”

“Hey, baby, please don't shoot. I just want to talk,” Paris said sweetly before they headed downstairs.

I think I was holding my breath the whole time, until I heard a single shot. A few seconds later, Paris called up to us, “Y'all coming down or what? And someone bring us our tops. It's cold as shit down here.”

I glanced at Junior, and he said with a smirk, “Told you.”

We ran down the stairs. Sasha was standing in the middle of the room, pointing at a metal door. “They're in there. That's where X was keeping me.” Her eyes traveled down to a pool of blood on the floor. There was no body, but whoever had been there had lost quite a bit of blood. I prayed it wasn't Vegas.

We all jumped back and aimed our weapons when we heard the sound of a bolt sliding on the other side of the metal door.

I felt all the tension leave my body when a battered Vegas sauntered out of the room carrying a gun. “What?” He laughed. “Y'all were expecting Brother X to be walking out of here, weren't you?”

Both girls screamed with joy, running to him, while I went inside the room Vegas had come out of. I was expecting to find X's dead body. Surprisingly, he was out cold, but he was very much alive, with two big-ass rats running in circles around him.

“Lavernius, the war is over, and your boys won. They did you proud.” I took my husband's hand between mine, desperate for it to be strong and solid, the way it had been all these years. But that didn't happen. It felt limp and absent of him, although I refused to give up hope that he was still in there somewhere.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Duncan. I need to change his IV,” Sonya mumbled. She stood in the doorway, looking too afraid to enter.

“Go on then.” I waved her in and waited as she tiptoed into the room and got to work, swapping out the empty bag of saline for a fresh one. As I watched her taking care of LC for the hundredth time since he'd been home, something deep inside me shifted.

“Sorry about that,” she muttered as she finished, ready to dart out of the room and leave the two of us alone.

“Sonya?” That had to be the first time I'd spoken to her directly since LC had been shot, so the look of fear she gave me was well deserved.

“Yes, Mrs. Duncan?”

“I need to thank you for all that you are doing for my husband. You have gone above and beyond to help him, and I want you to know that I notice, and I'm grateful that you're here.”

A look of embarrassment crossed her face before she responded.

“Please don't thank me. We all know that it's my fault he's in that bed in the first place. If I had just walked away when I gave you my word, then Mr. Duncan wouldn't be laying here.” She lowered her head, refusing to meet my eyes.

I had been so busy blaming her and being angry that I hadn't accepted a hard truth, but now it was time to share it with her. “You know the business that my family is in?” I asked her.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“So you realize that danger and retribution is a very real part of this job. You don't get all the rewards we have been given without a large degree of danger. There is a reason my son chose you. Most women couldn't deal with this life, but you and I, we're different. But that also means that we come with a history, one that makes this lifestyle an option. Yours just happens to include an angry husband. So yes, I needed to blame someone, but if I'm being honest, then I'm as responsible as you are for putting my husband in that bed.”

“You?” She seemed confused by my statement, but I wasn't willing to explain the part I played in my husband entering this business in the first place. That was ancient history at this point, and it was between me and my husband. All she needed to know was that I understood why my son had chosen her.

“My son is very lucky to have you . . . and Sonya?” She glanced up at me, tears falling from her eyes. “So am I.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and released a breath from deep within. When she opened her eyes again, I could see the relief, like a weight had been lifted off of her. “Can I bring you anything?” I shook my head, and she left the room, allowing me to be alone with LC again. There was so much I needed to say to him.

“Junior is going to be all right,” I said. “He chose the right woman. I know you would agree. She has a lot of the same qualities you've told me you value in me over the years. She can handle this life, and she can make Junior feel that love we always wanted for him. He always put us and his siblings first, but this time he took care of himself.

“You told me he wasn't going to leave her, and you were right. You're always right,” I said with a sad smile. “But if you wake up now 'cause you heard me say that, I'm going to deny it. Women like being right. We need it.”

I walked over to the mantle to look at one of the photos displayed on top. The memory of that day made me smile. It was a picture of Vegas and Daryl before their high school prom. We had taken pictures of them with their dates, of course, but I figured those girls would be history too soon to take up permanent residency in our house, so LC had made the boys pose for a photo without them, one we could keep.

I turned back to LC. “Daryl is back, and that's really good for Vegas with everything going on. They work really well together and—get ready for this surprise—you know who else Vegas works well with? Orlando. The two of them were bumping heads, about to go to war, but now they're working as a team. Kind of reminds me of you and Lou. I miss those early days, when we were too young to know where we were headed,” I said, wiping away a tear.

“And your grandson Nevada is the spitting image of Vegas. He's a smart, kind boy, but I can see that Duncan fire in him. If you were here, you'd help him to hone it, and you'd love him on sight. Of course, I have no idea what Consuela was thinking by keeping him from us. Now that she's single, I'm not sure what her intentions are for Vegas, and apparently neither does his girlfriend.” It took everything I had not to burst out in laughter. “That son of ours has been like the Pied Piper with women since he was in grade school. Not like the studious Orlando, always thinking about work. That's why I'm still praying we'll be able to get Orlando's son back one day. I know it's hard for him not to have his son around.... Oh, LC, I just wish you were here to help him,” I cried.

“Mom?” London came in and stood over me, hovering as usual.

I wiped away my tears. “Honey, I'm just having a chat with your father,” I said in a tone that told her I didn't want to be interrupted.

“Well, I'll come back later.” She turned and left me alone without any more fussing. That was odd for London.

“London just came to say hi to you,” I told LC. “She and Harris and the girls are fine, but now that Daryl is back, I'm going to have to keep a close eye on things. Funny how our children always think they're doing things behind our backs—like we can't tell when they're having feelings for someone.” Thoughts of London's wedding came rushing back to me, making me wonder if we had done our child a disservice. There were so many of them to worry about.

“Rio. He needs you even more than the others. He needs you to show him that you're proud of him. You should see what an important part of the family business he's been these weeks. He's really growing up.

“And speaking of growing up . . . Yes, we all know that Paris is your favorite. She's always going to be a handful, and without you here to control her, I'm not sure anything can be done with that girl. Now, Sasha has a lot of Lou in her, and she can temper herself, but that Paris is a lot harder to contain. If she had someone to really love her, soften those rough edges like you did for me, then I know she'd be okay. Guess that's why the whole Niles thing still bothers me.”

“Hey.” Donna's voice interrupted my thoughts. “You all right?” She came over and took my hand, looking down at LC.

“I just don't want to let him go,” I said. “I know that probably sounds selfish, especially when he's lying here in this bed not able to do anything for himself, but when you have loved a man as long as we have been together, it's hard to do the right thing. Especially when the right thing is to let him die.” Donna reached up and wiped the tears streaming down my face.

“He's always going to be in your heart.” Her words were meant to comfort me, but I didn't want my husband in my heart. I wanted him in my bed, in my arms, in my life. Everywhere.

“What are you going to do?” Her question was one I hadn't wanted to answer out loud, and yet I had to, because I needed to hear myself say it.

“I'm going to let him go. I'm going to give his friends some time to pay their respects, and then I'll let the children know my decision.”