by Sweet, Izzy
I’m left feeling stupid and pathetic watching him listen to someone who’s obviously more important than me.
I’m so sick of feeling stupid and pathetic.
So sick of being hurt again and again.
Simon sighs heavily and says impatiently, “Miss Cronin…”
Hearing my name again is like a splash of cold water to my face.
What am I doing still standing here when I have a ride home?
Home, the place where I’m safe and everything makes sense.
Swallowing back my emotions, I turn towards Simon and nod my head.
Ready to follow him.
Ready for this entire nightmare to end.
1
James
Now - Garden City
“Chief’s down. Someone in one of the Russian cars shot him,” Johnathan yells in the ear comms.
What the ever-loving fuck is going on?
That had to be a mistake.
My ears can’t even fucking fathom the words that just entered my brain as I stare through the windshield of my BMW.
Chief’s down.
“Goddammit!” Lucifer bellows into the ear comms as well.
Stuck in my car, racing toward the scene, all the information I’m getting is coming through my damn ear.
My foot is pushing firmly on the gas pedal, but I’m too far out to see what’s going down.
About twenty minutes ago, Simon got a hit on Alexei’s car with his license plate reader. Alexei, the elusive Russian boss we’ve been chasing after for months. The same Russian bastard behind Sophia and Beth’s kidnapping.
Everyone has been pulled in to help follow him. Gabriel, his wife Meghan, Johnathan, Andrew, and the Chief of Police have tailed Alexei’s car to highway 40, heading east toward Bethlehem.
Detective Sommers and I have been en route to provide additional backup.
But everything has gone to hell.
Who the fuck would kill the damn Chief of Police? There’s no way I heard that right. I mean seriously, he’s gotta be alive. If not…
Shit.
There’s no goddamn way the man, whose daughter I’ve been secretly stalking and watching for how many fucking months, just fucking dies.
There’s no fucking way.
A bunch of chatter suddenly comes through the bud in my ear. Shit about Meghan running away from Gabriel to confront her father and getting grabbed by the Russians.
None of this shit is making sense.
How the fuck did a simple tail job fail so spectacularly?
Who the hell decided to pull over the Russians?
“Chief’s dead, confirming it now. Same with Brady. Both have fatal shots to the head,” Andrew says over the comms.
My heart sinks at the words.
There’s no fixing dead.
And Sophia…
Shit.
Sophia’s just lost the last of her family. Her mom died a few years ago, and now her dad’s been murdered by someone.
And I don’t even know who fucking did it.
More chatter comes over the comms. Simon and Lucifer are ordering everyone to obey the fucking state police.
“Fuck!” I scream out as loud as possible.
Mashing the gas pedal to the floor, I keep trying to get around all the stupid slow fucks surrounding me, but it’s like the gods have all decided to take a giant piss on the idea.
I’m the furthest away from everything that’s been going down and I’ve never felt more fucking useless!
Normally I’m the guy in the background with a sniper rifle, watching over my brothers. But I’m stuck in a car and I can’t do a fucking thing.
I have zero clue what’s happening right now. I can’t get my eyes on the situation and it’s killing me.
“I’m putting a call into the Governor’s office right now. Give me a few minutes. They’ll have to get extra cars and men there before they can haul you away. We’ll have enough time to get you free,” Simon says.
“I’m about a minute away from the scene. There isn’t a lot of traffic right now, but you will be causing a backup soon enough,” I mutter over the comms.
“Do not stop. We need to get someone after the Russians,” Lucifer says.
Heaven seems better than the fucking purgatory I’m dealing with now.
“What about the Chief? Who the fuck killed him?” I ask, my throat wanting to close up around the words.
I’m fucking torn here. Do I stop and kill the motherfuckers who are holding my brothers down?
Or do I keep moving like I was ordered?
I’ve never left a brother behind before, and every instinct inside me is screaming for me to stop my car and kill the two fuckers harassing Gabriel at least.
Kill them so he can be the wrecking ball he was always meant to be.
“Not our immediate concern. All we know is that it was one of the Russians,” Simon says.
He’s right, and I know it.
But it doesn’t feel good accepting it.
Speeding past all the guys, I try to turn off that little part of my brain that calls to me.
Calls me to cause some bloodshed.
The little part of me that’s always sitting just beneath the surface and wants to kill every single motherfucker standing in the way of what I want.
I make it a couple more miles down the highway before I get stuck in more traffic.
“Goddammit,” Simon all but screams over the comms just as I screech to a halt.
His yell is so damn loud in my earpiece, I fight not to scream myself from the feedback echoing around in my brain.
Lucifer talks over Simon’s yelling. “The Russians slowed down long enough for the Highway Patrol officer to get close to them. Then they opened up with automatic rifle fire, killing him. We’ve lost them in the ensuing traffic panic ahead and behind them.”
“You what?” Gabriel asks in disbelief.
Jesus Christ. Can this shitshow get any shittier?
Gabriel snarls into the comms. “James, what’s your location?”
“In traffic. I could jerk off and the line will probably have not moved. We’re at a standstill,” I grumble.
I could get out and do naked cartwheels around my car and still be fucking waiting.
I gun my engine uselessly, trying to weave just enough to see around the cars ahead of me, but it’s fucking pointless.
This shit is the absolute worst thing that could be happening right now.
Everything’s going south and I’m a turtle crawling toward Bethlehem.
Suddenly an awful thought breaks through the murderous rage I’ve been stewing in.
Sophia.
My fucking Sophia is back in Garden City, unprotected and alone.
My fingers dig into the steering wheel and I can feel them threatening to rip the leather clean off.
We’ve lost the Russians. We’ve got two dead men on our hands.
And we’ve got me, a murderous sniper, who can’t get to his fucking woman…
Fuck.
Punching the ceiling of the car doesn’t ease any of my fucking emotions.
“Cocksucking, mouth-breathing, dick-gobblers!” I scream.
Jamming my finger against the phone button on my steering wheel, I growl, “Call Lucifer.”
The line rings twice before Lucifer’s smooth drawl comes through my speakers.
“James, unless this is a matter of business, now is not the time to be calling for a chit-chat,” Lucifer says, and there’s this fucking slyness to his voice.
Like he’s already playing with me.
“Cut the shit, Matthew,” I snarl. “Give me the green light to waste someone. Let me kill these fuckers in the cop cars so I can get on with the shit I need to take care of.”
“No,” he says without missing a beat. “We can’t and you can’t.”
“I need to get back to Garden City, Matthew. I need to be there right now.”
“Why?” he asks.
I know tha
t he fucking knows why I want to go back, but he’s enjoying this little game of torture.
“Sophia,” I say with a growl of frustration.
Might as well put it out there.
Fuck the games.
Fuck the runaround.
Her dad is dead.
I’m the only person left to protect her now, and there’s no reason I can’t make her mine.
“We’re tracking her, and even though it looks like she’s got a couple of undercovers following her, she’s safe for now,” Lucifer says. “We have to deal with the situation at hand. We need Alexei and we need to help Gabriel rescue Meghan. As soon as we’re done here, you can get back to your little perch.”
Fucking bastard.
“Fuck you,” I spit out.
“Get your rifle ready, James, you’ll need it. We’ve got men looking around Bethlehem for Alexei,” he says. “As soon as this is dealt with… You can go get your little curse.”
Curse…
That motherfucker.
Curse is exactly what this is.
Johnathan fucking cursed me to be the next guy in the inner circle to find and marry a woman, and by all the fucking gods it came true.
The fucking bastard.
Disconnecting the call, I sigh loudly, and try to cut ahead of a guy who’s lagging on my right side in the traffic.
* * *
I’ve never prayed before, not to the gods above or below. I’ve never felt the need to ask for help or beg for forgiveness.
It’s just not a part of who I am or how I’m made.
I know the prayers, of course. I was forced to learn them during my days of Catholic school hell, but I’ve never uttered those words once in any way, shape, or form.
But hearing the Heralds of Hell, of all people, have spotted Alexei… Well, it almost gives me the urge to give thanks.
Never did I think a motorcycle club would be useful to have on our side.
Beyond the fact that just thinking about all the dirt those guys are covered in must give Simon a rash.
But fuck, right now I’d buy each and every single one of them a beer.
“I’m sending the latest updates on the warehouses they’re suspected to be in to your phones. James, you’re closest. Get a position up high and see if you can spot heat signatures with any of the gear you have,” Simon says over the comms.
“Roger that, but I need to leave here as soon as this shit’s over. I’ve got something I need to take care of,” I respond back.
“What do you have that’s more pressing?” Simon snarls out.
“He’s cleared it with me and I’m in full agreement. James needs to do another job. Right now, we have a small group of outsiders tailing the police chief’s daughter. We need one of us watching her now. We still don’t know why they took out the chief,” Lucifer says.
“Fine, but we all need to have a meeting soon. We’re becoming stretched too thin. We need more men in here,” Simon snaps.
Moving slowly through the warehouse district in Bethlehem on foot, getting ready to do what I do best—kill more Russian motherfuckers—there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing at this exact moment.
Nothing besides doing very dirty things to Sophia…
But yeah, Sophia and me isn’t something I can think about right now.
Can’t go killing dudes with a boner.
Speaking of killing…
My eyes fall on a guy standing guard outside the building I want to climb up. He’s smoking a cigarette like a stupid fuck and thinks it won’t make him stand out.
I want to use a pistol or rifle on him, but it would make too much noise.
Tensing my toes for a moment, I raise up on the balls of my feet. I have to loosen all the muscles in my legs so that I can move silently. I can’t let the tension I feel building deep in my core interrupt my job.
I need to do this quietly and quickly.
Tapping the throat comm so that I’m on a private channel with Simon, I don’t say anything.
I’ve opened up the line for two reasons. One, so we won’t get any interference from all the other shit going down.
And two, so that he knows I’m up to something.
Moving quickly, I dodge in from the side of the Russian prick.
He’s not expecting it.
As I slam an elbow into the temple of his head, I can instantly tell I’ve scrambled his brains. Scrambled them so good, he doesn’t scream or gurgle too loudly when I sink my knife into his throat.
Dropping his body to the ground, I wipe the blade on his jacket.
No need to have a slippery knife in my hands.
“Two down,” I mumble into the comms.
“Two down,” Simon repeats. “Are you able to get a height advantage on the warehouse?”
“Affirmative,” I say as I latch onto the drainpipe that I was eyeing before spotting the Russian I had to kill.
“Let me know when you’re in position,” Simon says.
“Doggy or missionary?” I ask as I start pulling myself up, using whatever cracks and crannies I can.
“I hope you fall,” Simon hisses.
“I hope you find dirt under your prissy fingernails,” I mutter back.
Using the drainpipe and other shit hanging on the walls, it takes me exactly two minutes to scale up the side of the building.
Once I’m on the roof, I belly crawl across to find the best vantage point.
After I put my rifle together and set up to get a look about, I switch back to the open channel. “Got into a nice little hidey-hole. Saw the probationary for HoH, he didn’t see me though.”
I peer through the scope of my rifle, moving it slowly over the dark warehouses surrounding me.
“Do you have heat signatures in the buildings?” Simon asks after a minute.
“Confirming right now. First building is as empty as your testicles, Simon,” I say with a chuckle.
“You little fucking shit—” Simon starts to snarl at me.
“Hush, young man, I’m working here,” I retort to cut him off as I finally hit pay dirt on the next building. “Everyone hold about a minute out. I’m getting heat signatures and I need to get placements.”
“Can you confirm any of the Russians?” Lucifer asks after a minute. “We don’t need to break up a meat packing plant.”
“Nah, we won’t be doing that,” I say. “Got ‘em. Eleven bodies. One is laying down on what is probably a table, but shows no cold spots. Gonna say from the sizing it’s Gabriel’s little munchkin. She’s got two men with her. One is going to be Alexei, I bet.”
“Good,” Lucifer says. “Meet up and swarm.”
* * *
“Stupid fucking cops and their corrupt dumb-fucking-dicks!” I yell out loud as I whip my car around the slow-moving Subaru in front of me.
The hippie bastard gives me the finger as I pass him.
If I had an old, used condom in here somewhere, I’d fling it out the window at his patchouli-stinking-ass.
Haven’t had one of those in the fucking car for almost a damn year, though.
Shit. I haven’t had to use a condom in seven months…
Pushing down on the gas pedal, I swerve my car into the slow lane to get around another asshole standing in the way of me getting into some fucking crazy unknown shit.
After helping my family take out Alexei and rescue Meghan, I immediately hightailed it out of Bethlehem.
Now I’m racing my way to Sophia.
Racing toward something I’ve been both longing for and fucking dreading.
Ever since Johnathan put that fucking voodoo shit on me all those months ago, it’s like I’ve had this fucking ticking clock over my head.
My heart feels like it’s trying to beat as fast as the speedometer says I’m going. My brain though is moving even faster. Each and every possibility ahead of me playing out in a thousand different ways.
Some seem like the dream life.
Others… not so much.
; How the fuck am I going to do any of this shit?
I’ve got an angel on one shoulder, telling me to turn around and head in the opposite direction.
And the devil on the other telling me where my path lies.
How am I going to protect her without… without…
“Fuck,” I scream out in frustration.
Is there a right choice when it comes to saving someone from their black and white world? Especially when you know your life is much more dangerous?
Right now, I know what my dick would say. He’d say get the girl, fuck her, and make sure no other man will ever compare.
My brain, on the other hand, warns I’m about to be domesticated.
My gut says this is going to cause a lot of deaths.
Fuck.
A sharp pinging echoes through the car, my phone alarm warning me it’s seven p.m.
Mitzy’s going to fucking kill me. I’m going to be late as hell and I doubt she’s going to be happy when I get home.
Ever since Lucifer had to fucking go and get his ass hitched to Lily, the inner circle has been falling like dominoes.
And I can feel I’m the next to fall.
Dammit. I was so careful, so damn careful all those years, and he had to go become a real adult and marry Lily. Now all of us are fucking getting married and having kids.
Kids.
Is that the next step after finally getting my hands on Sophia and fucking her into oblivion? Are kids and a mortgage on some huge house the next step?
Why the hell am I even bothering to complain?
It’s not like being with Mitzy really gives me anything beyond having a little bed warmer at night and affection.
What if Sophia isn’t cool with other chicks though? What if she doesn’t dig the long hair Mitzy has?
Shaking my head at all the swirling thoughts, I glance at the dashboard. With every minute I’ve spent driving toward Sophia, I can feel the maelstrom of emotions that’s been building over the past seven months getting ready to erupt.
I’m so ready for this fucking wait to be over with. I’ve waited long enough for this to end one way or the other.
But…
I’m not ready for anything serious though, right? Just need a bone from her and I can finally go on my way. Back to the life of guns, violence, and sex.