"I know." I huff out a breath, crossing my arms over my chest. "Fuck, I know. But this shit is fucked up, Finn. Had I known that it'd go down like this, I don't know that I would have fought to get Kincaid here, regardless of the cost. He's already been through hell. If he loses her now, it's going to kill him. And that will be on us."
Finn's lips compress into a thin line. He jerks his head in a nod, grimacing. "I know it is."
We both fall silent as a nurse passes by.
"What'd you find out?" I ask once she's gone.
"Not much," he mutters, crowding closer to the wall as two other nurses step out of the stairwell and head in our direction.
One smiles at me and then licks her lips as they pass. I scowl at her, annoyed. She just smirks and bends her head to her friend, whispering something. They both giggle and glance back at us. I roll my eyes and turn slightly so my back is to them. Swear to Christ, some women are shameless.
"LAPD processed the scene. The security cameras showed Kaleo coming in through the unlocked front door. Approximately five minutes later, Kincaid arrived. He carried January out fifteen minutes later. From the looks of it, the scene matches Kincaid's story. Kaleo had powder burns on his hands. They found Kincaid's weapon underneath Kaleo, but it doesn't appear to have been discharged. And January's blood is all over the gun used to kill Kaleo. They're going to run prints to confirm, but I don't expect they'll find anything surprising."
"So January really killed Kaleo." I didn't doubt it, but Jesus Christ. Is it any wonder Kincaid is unraveling?
"Looks like it." Finn nods toward the waiting room. "How's he holding up?"
"He's losing his mind. Until he sets eyes on her and sees for himself that she's still with him, there's not a fucking thing we can do for him." I sigh heavily, guilt washing through me again. "This entire situation is fucked up."
"You aren't wrong," Finn mutters, rubbing a hand over his bald head. "You should know Luke found a gun hidden in Kaleo's shed earlier today. We turned it over to LAPD, but it matches the type of weapon that was used in the murders of Adcock and his buddies."
"You're serious?" That's the best damn news we've had in weeks.
Finn nods. "It looks like it'd been there for a good decade. The weapon is in bad shape, but Hernandez sent it off for ballistics testing."
"Does Kincaid know?"
"Ames told him." He grimaces. "You should also know that we had to suspend him until the investigation is complete and he's cleared. Randolph graciously informed me that they would let us decide how to tell him. Ames delivered the news to him Friday night."
"At least Randolph is keeping his distance," I mutter. The last damn thing we need is the DEA getting in the middle of the investigation. They've already made it abundantly clear they're willing to sacrifice him.
"Don't be so sure about that," Finn says with a disgusted snort. "Randolph called about half an hour ago, demanding to know what the fuck is going on."
"You told him?"
"Yeah." He scowls like he's pissed about it. I'm guessing he probably is. "I filled him in, told him not to even fucking think about getting involved."
"Good," I grunt.
"He promised they'd stay out of it for the time being."
"So they're playing by the rules we set."
"For the moment. But if we don't find Remi soon, I'm not sure how much longer they're going to keep playing by them. Randolph asked if we had any new leads on Remi yet. I told him to go fuck himself." Finn grins. "He didn't like that much, but it felt good."
"You're playing with fire," I mutter in warning. "Until the rest of the team is out from underneath them, you're going to have to play nice."
Finn snorts derisively. "We'll have them out within the next couple of days. I got word this morning that administration agreed to open enough positions to bring them all on board. And that was me playing nice."
"When the fuck did I become the voice of reason?" I ask, shaking my head. Finn is always the one trying to talk sense into me. I don't much care for having the shoe on the other foot, especially when every part of me wholeheartedly agrees with his opinion of Randolph, Cassidy, Benson, and the other motherfuckers at the DEA.
"You had a weekend off," he mutters. "I didn't. I went to bed about an hour before you called."
I quirk a brow in question.
"Luke and I were out looking for Remi."
"Any luck?"
"Nope, but we're pretty sure there are no other infant-sized surprises waiting for us in the city. We chased down the rest of the women on the list. Two miscarried. One has newborn triplets, but they're mixed. Her husband is black. She's white."
"So they're not Francisco's then."
"Nope."
"Any word on Medina?"
"Not a peep." He sighs. "But her friends say she never intended to stick around. She had one foot out the door before she ever had the baby. The best I can tell, Francisco paid her to carry his kid and then disappear."
"Then why didn't Remi run for the border when he got his hands on the kid?" I ask, the same damn question I keep coming back to. It doesn't add up. He had Francisco's kid in his hands. Why was he hiding out in the basement of a warehouse instead of making a run for it? What was he waiting for? And why? I don't like it.
"I've been running my old ass all over this goddamn city, trying to find Remi to ask him that same question," Finn murmurs, pitching his voice low as another group of nurses spill out of the stairwell. Unlike the last two, they keep their eyes to themselves, barely paying us any attention.
"He's up to something," I say when they pass.
"And we're running out of time to find out what," Finn agrees.
"How's she doing?" I ask Kincaid, ducking through the door into January's room in the ICU to check in. I've been running my ass off since I left the hospital this morning. I've been to Kaleo's and to January's, and then helped Octavio canvas the neighborhood, asking questions. A neighbor down the street saw Kaleo lurking around, but didn't think anything of it, or at least not enough to get involved or call the police.
"They say she's better, but I don't know." Kincaid stares at me through bleary eyes, though I don't know if he's actually looking at me or if he's looking through me. He's calmed now that he's at her side, but not by much. "She's still sedated."
My gaze rakes over January's still form. She's tiny, barely even five foot. In the bed, she looks even smaller. Dark lashes rest against her porcelain cheeks. Her long blonde hair is limp and lifeless. Machines beep and hum all over the place. There's blood in the catheter bag hanging off the side of the bed. My heart aches at the sight of so many wires and tubes crisscrossing her diminutive frame.
Kincaid has his chair pulled up right beside the bed, her pale hand clutched in his. I don't think he's slept at all since she was shot. He's been at her side, refusing to leave. I don't think he's set foot outside this room since I left this morning either. No one has the heart to make him leave. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that she's the center of his world. And truth be told, if it were Mila in that bed, I'd be in the exact same spot he is right now.
"Here." I toss the takeout bag at him. He catches it and then sets it on the table beside him without even looking at it. I frown at him. "You need to eat, brother."
"I know." He pushes a hand through his hair and blinks at me. "She really killed him, didn't she?"
"Yeah," I say softly, pulling up a chair. "She did."
"Fuck." His eyes fall closed, but not quick enough to hide the flash of pain that rolls through them. "People gave her so much shit when we were kids. They thought she was an easy target because she has always been so little. She never fought back when they bothered her. But just let them say something about me or Titan, and she was like a fucking lion. I never understood how someone so tiny could be so fierce, but she is, you know?" A wistful smile twists at his lips. "From the day I met her, I just wanted to keep her safe and happy. I stressed the fuck out about someone hurting her or making he
r cry. Even when we were kids, I always fucking worried about her. She's so sweet, so full of life. It kills me that she's going to have to live with that motherfucker's death on her conscience."
"She's a fighter," I remind him, speaking quietly. "She'll be okay because you'll make sure she is."
"She may never forgive me for this."
I'm not so sure about that. She shot a man without hesitation to save his life. I have a feeling there isn't much January wouldn't forgive when it comes to him. But I don't tell him that. I think that's something he needs to hear from her lips, not mine. Even if I said it, I don't think he'd believe me.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" I ask him instead. He hasn't said much to anyone yet. Octavio is keeping his distance for the time being. Knowing January killed Kaleo has thrown everyone for a loop. I don't think anyone expected that, but I have a feeling the case Octavio's been reluctantly building against Kincaid will dry up if ballistics testing matches the gun in Kaleo's shed to those murders. Charging Kincaid now seems especially cruel, and Octavio isn't heartless.
"I don't even know what the fuck happened," Kincaid says, his voice raspy. He pops his eyes open, pinning me with a look full of confusion and pain. "He had her at gunpoint, and I convinced him to let her go. He was going to take me instead. I was prepared to die if it meant she lived. She was out of there…all she had to do was keep going. Next thing I know, he's dead, and she's on the floor, bleeding out." He shakes his head as if to clear it of the memory. "I didn't even hear her come back. I heard the shots and thought…" He shakes his head again and chuckles, but there is no amusement in the sound, no humor. "Fuck, I thought he'd shot me."
"Why did he go after her?" I ask him, still struggling over that fact. Never in a million years did I think Kaleo would be stupid enough to go after January with Kincaid in town.
"Payback," he mutters, rage peeking out from his narrowed eyes. "I took everything from him. He said he was going to return the favor. You know the fucked up thing? It was all over money. All this time, that's what he's been after. My fucking trust fund. I would have handed it all over to him years ago if he would have left January and Titan the fuck alone. That's all I ever wanted, Roman. For them to be safe. Instead, Titan's dead. January is–" A painful, broken groan tumbles from his lips. "I can't lose her," he whispers, shaking his head. Tears swim in his eyes, pain twisting his expression into a mask of agony. "I can't fucking lose her too."
"I know, brother." I reach out and squeeze his shoulder, offering comfort. I don't make promises I know damn well I might not be able to keep. I don't tell him everything will be okay, because he knows as well as I do that sometimes shit isn't okay. Sometimes, it ends badly. Sometimes, we lose the people we love. I pray to God that doesn't happen here, but I don't promise it won't because I can't lie to him.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Kincaid," I say, my throat tight. "Had I known it might end like this, I never would have pushed to get you, Tristan, and Lillian here. I never would have told you about Kaleo. I would have taken care of it myself, left you out of it."
"When I got on that plane, I wanted to blame you and Bethel for bringing Lillian here," he says, holding my gaze. "Had you left her out of it, she wouldn't have been taken and I wouldn't have had to come here. When you told me about Kaleo, I wanted to rip your throat out." He exhales a sharp breath. "But I don't blame you, and I don't regret coming back here. She told me she loves me, man. That she never stopped loving me and never blamed me for what happened to her mom and Titan. You know how long I've dreamed about hearing her say those words?" The corner of his lip tips up into a tiny smile. Gratitude wells in his eyes, pouring over in a single tear that trails down his cheek. "I'll owe you for the rest of my goddamn life for giving me that."
"Christ," I whisper, clearing my throat roughly. "You don't own me a damn thing, brother."
"Yeah, I do," he says, his voice soft. "You gave me a shot at a real future. If January pulls through—No, not if. When January pulls through, I plan on sticking around. My place is here, protecting her. If I don't go down for those fucking murders and you still want me to sign on with Bethel's team, I'll do it."
"You aren't going down for those murders."
He shrugs like it doesn't matter to him one way or another, but we both know he's full of shit. The truth is right there in his eyes…he's terrified. I think part of him believes he deserves to go to prison for what he did. Hell, I think part of him thinks he's just as bad as Kaleo and the gangbangers who destroyed his life, but he's wrong. I plan to make damn sure he knows that much before all is said and done. It's the least of what I owe him.
We sit in silence for several moments, the only sounds those of the machines keeping January alive. Kincaid keeps his eyes locked on her, his thumb running in circles over the back of her hand.
"You know the truth, don't you?" he asks eventually, his voice so soft it barely carries.
"Yeah, I know," I whisper.
He nods like he expected that answer. "I don't regret it." He swallows hard, meeting my gaze. "Maybe I should. Maybe that's how I'm supposed to feel, but I don't regret it. What they did…you know she idolized her brother? He was always her hero, and they took him from her. It was her fucking birthday, man, and she had to watch him and her mom die on a sidewalk. I still hear her screaming… I still wake up screaming myself. I don't regret it," he repeats, his voice a painful rasp. "Don't know if that changes shit for you or not, but figured you should know what kind of person I am before you decide you want me on your team."
"Jose Guerrero kidnapped Mila and my daughter five months ago," I say in response, earning a nod from him. "I was standing on his sister's doorstep when I found out he was going after them. She was pregnant and completely innocent. Even knowing that, I intended to use her to get my family back. I even considered putting a bullet in her to get them back."
"Why are you telling me this?" he asks.
"Because when it comes to protecting our families, we're all capable of doing some fucked up shit. I let Selena go, but not because I wasn't capable of hurting her."
"Then why?"
"Because I was naïve," I admit with a rueful shake of my head. "Even knowing what I knew about him, I wanted to believe that there was some little thread of human decency left in Guerrero. I wanted to believe that, if I didn't kill Selena, he wouldn't hurt Mila or Talia. I was wrong. He shot Mila anyway."
"Jesus."
"Some people are so far gone, there is no saving them. There is no human decency left. Guerrero, Noel, Kaleo, the Crips who killed Titan and Jana…they're all the same. There are evil people in this world, Kincaid, and guys like me and you are all that stand between them and people like your girl and mine. To keep them safe, we all do shit we never thought we'd be capable of doing. You did what you had to do. I don't blame you for that. I would have done the same fucking thing."
"Maybe," he murmurs, turning back to January. He stares down at her, a thoughtful frown on his face.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I rise to my feet and clap him on the shoulder. "She needs you to be strong right now and fight for her, that's all you need to worry about. We'll deal with everything else."
"Yeah," he says, not even looking at me.
"Take care, brother. I'll be back later."
He nods, clearly distracted, but doesn't say anything else. I watch him for a moment, and send up another prayer that January makes it through this alive. Not because I need Kincaid or because the city needs him…but because he and January have been through enough. They deserve peace and a chance at happiness. Fuck, that's all that really matters in the end anyway, isn't it? Happiness and finding someone to share it with?
"Thanks, Roman," he whispers as I duck out of the room. "For everything."
I turn back to answer him, but he's got his head down on January's hand like he's praying. I pull the door closed behind me and fish my phone out of my pocket instead. Luke's name flashes across the screen. I stride toward the double
doors to the ICU before swiping to answer.
"Hang on," I mutter into the phone, pushing out into the waiting room. An LAPD officer stands beside the doors, his back to the wall as he keeps an eye out for threats to January's safety. Someone will stay out here to help keep her safe until she goes home. She's family now, and that means every cop in this city will help protect her if called on to stand watch.
A middle-aged woman sleeps in a chair on the far side of the waiting room, her head resting against the wall. A young couple sits on the other side, staring blindly down at their phones. The rest of the room is empty, the televisions dark.
I lift two fingers in a wave at the officer, who nods back at me.
"What's up?" I ask Luke once I'm out of earshot.
"Someone broke into Remi's house about an hour ago," he says.
"You're fucking kidding me."
"Nope."
"Was it Remi?"
"Unsure," Luke answers. "It's possible, but he wore a mask the entire time."
"Fuck my life," I curse, shoving a hand through my hair as I jog toward the elevators. "Can you meet me there?"
"I actually can't," he mutters and then sighs. "Octavio called me in to get my statement since I didn't give them a chance to get one last night. I'm on my way over there now."
"Fuck. Where's Finn?"
"Last I heard, he was putting out fires at the office. I guess Sanders found out Finn requested decertification and is threatening to file a lawsuit or some bullshit," Luke snorts. "Says he was unfairly targeted."
"Of course he's saying that, the little prick." I shake my head, disgusted but not surprised. Sanders is a self-serving piece of shit. Of course he thinks he's being picked on. Bullies and predators never do take their punishment well. I'm not particularly worried about him though. He's fighting a losing battle and he'll figure that out soon enough. "I'll head over to Remi's and see what I can find. Meet me there when you're finished," I order, stabbing the button for the elevator.
Desire Me (Her Best Friend's Father Book 4) Page 24