Anguish

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Anguish Page 8

by Bella Jewel


  It’ll only complicate things.

  I don’t need complications.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MACK

  “You think there’s more goin’ on?” Maddox asks, lighting a cigarette.

  I look over my shoulder and glance at Santana, who has fallen asleep on the couch with Diesel tucked in her arms. I nod to Maddox and he closes the door, blocking her from view. I turn back to him.

  “I don’t know what’s goin’ down, but my guess is that whoever the boyfriend is, he was in more trouble than just owing a debt.”

  Maddox nods, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. “The problem I’ve got is that we don’t know what’s goin’ down. We could pay him out, but it likely won’t end.”

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ problem. We need to know why the boyfriend got himself in debt to fuckin’ begin with, and why Jaylah was so desperate to get his debt paid off. She sold drugs, for fuck’s sake. She would have had to get herself tangled enough to even get hold of them, but to get tangled with Gregor? That’s either bad luck, or it’s exactly how this was meant to go down.”

  “Gregor ain’t no small dealer,” Maddox mutters. “He’s one of the biggest in the area. For him to be after her ain’t good.”

  “No,” I grunt. “Fuck, so much bullshit.”

  Maddox stares hard at me. “You could just fire her, and get another nanny.”

  “You saw the response to the advertisement, bro. I couldn’t live with half of those Nancy fuckin’ Goody-Two-Shoes women. Jaylah has got sass, spunk, and she doesn’t take any shit. Plus, the baby likes her.”

  “Diesel.”

  I jerk my head. “What?”

  “Your son, his name is Diesel. Not kid. You gotta stop, Mack . . .”

  “Don’t tell me how to feel about this,” I hiss.

  He steps closer. Maddox has always been bigger than me, but I’ve always had a whole lot more steam. I don’t lie down just because he’s trying to overpower me. “That boy needs you, and if you don’t start bondin’ with him, he won’t know who you are. I don’t know what went down with his mother and you, but it ain’t his fault. You can’t deal with him, you should give him to someone who can.”

  “Comin’ from a man that’s got his fuckin’ happily-ever-after, that’s rich. I’ll deal with this when I’m good and fuckin’ ready. Until then, the boy is safe. He’s loved by those around him, and that’s enough.”

  “If you truly believe that, then you’ve learned nothin’ in your life,” he mutters, but his eyes show his disappointment in me.

  He steps past me, dropping the cigarette and crushing it out with his boot as he goes past. When the door slams, I grind my teeth and glare into the darkness.

  They don’t get it; none of them fuckin’ get it.

  That woman took my heart, ripped it out, crushed it, and then handed it back to me in one tiny package.

  A package I wasn’t ready for.

  ~*~*~*~

  JAYLAH

  My ribs don’t feel any better when I wake in the morning, but I’m grateful that it isn’t worse. I force myself up, and I shower slowly. By the time I’m done, everyone is already downstairs. Maddox and Santana spent the night, because they had Diesel. I ignore the stares as I brush past them to get coffee.

  “Morning Jay,” Santana says.

  “Hey Tana,” I flash her a quick smile, ignoring the two very fierce male eyes boaring into me.

  “You make contact with Gregor?” Mack asks.

  I close my eyes, take a breath, and turn, coffee in hand. I suck in a little gasp when I see him. Jesus. None one should look that good in the morning. He’s wearing a pair of faded cargo pants, top button undone, boxer briefs poking out the top. No shirt. Hair messy, yet lose, so it flows halfway down his back. My God . . . drool.

  “I . . .” God, did his ab muscles just . . . flex? “I didn’t.”

  “Good,” he says, making my head jerk up.

  “Good?”

  “I’m comin’ with you to drop the money off.”

  I’m already shaking my head before he’s finished his sentence. “Oh no, that’s not a good idea.”

  “It’s not an option.”

  “Mack, seriously, I’m not taking you with me to face a drug dealer. It will cause all kinds of problems, and—”

  My sentence is cut off with a little squeak when he steps close, his body pressing against mine. He leans down close and my heart skitters as his full lips come into clear view, and God, do I want a taste of them. His brown eyes are intense and determined. “I said,” he grinds out, “it’s not an option. I’m not giving you money to have you deliver it and get shot. Then how will I get my payment?”

  “Shot?” I croak.

  “You’re just assuming he’s going to let you walk. You don’t know Gregor the way I know Gregor. There’s a good chance he’ll top you, regardless.”

  My heartbeat picks up, and my skin becomes clammy. “Top me?”

  “That’s why,” he says, letting his eyes slowly travel down my face, “I’m coming with you.”

  “O-o-okay.”

  What am I going to say? No? Pffft. I’m not stupid, and there’s no way I’m risking my head being anywhere but on my shoulders. Mack steps back, and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “Make the call,” he says, nodding towards my phone. “Don’t tell him I’m coming.”

  “Okay.”

  I take a sip of coffee.

  “Now, Lah.”

  I scowl at him. He winks at me.

  I lift the phone and the nerves jerk back into my body. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and then I dial Gregor.

  “You got my money?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “That was fast. What did you do? Rip another dealer off?”

  Fear creeps up my spine.

  “I borrowed it, from, ah, family. When do you want to meet?”

  “Lunchtime, same place.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’d better have it,” he says, his voice low and threatening. “Or you’ll more than have my boot in your ribs.”

  The phone disconnects, and a gag creeps up my throat but I squelch it down.

  “Well?” Mack asks, unperturbed.

  “He said to meet at twelve, behind Costa’s.”

  Mack turns to Maddox. “You want to trail us?”

  Maddox nods. “I’ll get the guys on it, make sure if shit goes down, you’re covered.”

  “Good.”

  Santana stands, walking over and putting a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

  “I will be when this is over.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” she soothes.

  I force a smile and step into the kitchen. I eat, even though my stomach turns, and I spend the rest of the morning talking to Santana and playing with Diesel. When lunchtime rolls around, I feel ill. This could go so badly. Is Mack right? Will they just try to kill me? Granted it’s the middle of they day so I’m hoping that is some protection, but in saying that, Costa’s is quiet as hell when you go around the back. I’m grateful for Mack in that moment, because if he weren’t around I would have waltzed in and just handed the cash over, probably earning myself a bullet to the brain.

  “You ready?” Mack asks, coming in.

  He’s dressed all in black, his colors loud and proud. God, he makes one hell of a sexy biker. From what I’ve seen, he hasn’t got a mark on his beautiful, bronzed body . . . and that just seems to make him even more . . . edgy. He’s different. He’s not like all the rest. They’re out there and loud, you know they’re dangerous just by looking at them. Mack, he’s the still-waters-run-deep kind of dangerous.

  “I’m ready.”

  We make our way out to his truck and climb in. I know someone is trailing us, though you wouldn’t know they’re around. They’re silent, and that’s even scarier. Mack pulls out and we head towards Costa’s. My hands are firmly tangled in each other on my lap, and my hear
t is pounding.

  “Your boyfriend,” Mack says suddenly, jerking me from my thoughts. “How’d he get involved in this shit?”

  I blink at him, taking a few moments to gather myself.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Not what I asked,” he murmurs.

  “Right,” I swallow. “He gambles.”

  Mack’s brows go up. “How the fuck did he go from gamblin’ to drugs?”

  “The same way they all do.” I sigh. “He owed a fuck-load of money to the casinos and to bad people. He needed to pay it back so he started selling drugs. He went to a medium-sized dealer, Jason. He would sell them, and Jason would pay him good cash for the big jobs, giving him a cut. He decided one afternoon, why bother giving it to Jason? Why not just take it all for himself? He took the cash from a deal and paid off his debt. Of course, Jason lost his shit and things went south. I was desperate; I wanted him safe, and I didn’t realize at the time it was way over my head. I dived in, deciding to do a job. I mean, how hard could it be to make a few sales? I knew it was illegal, but I honestly thought they’d blow Samuel’s head off. Unfortunately for me, the person I made a deal with was Gregor. He took me without too much question; why wouldn’t he? I was willing and eager. Samuel had done one job for him in the past, so he assumed things would be good. The moment I handed over the drugs to the buyer and the cash hit my hand, I bolted, paying Jason off.”

  “Leavin’ you with a debt. Didn’t think that one through, did you?” Mack says, his voice low.

  “No, I didn’t. I thought I could come up with some big story about being mugged. I was naive, stupid, because Gregor wouldn’t have a bar of it. So, it came about that I owed him eight thousand dollars and Samuel got off scot-free.”

  “That fucker know you’re in the shit?”

  I nod. “Yep, and after I told him, I found him in bed with another woman. That’s how much it meant.”

  “Shit.”

  “That about covers it.”

  “We’ll sort this shit out, and then you’re goin’ to promise me you won’t be so fuckin’ stupid ever again.”

  I smile a little. “I swear.”

  “Then let’s get this done.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gregor is waiting, as we expected him to be. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. We get out of the car and his eyes swing to Mack, and a smile stretches across his face. “Miakoda,” he practically purrs. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Gregor,” Mack mutters. “Here to sort this debt.”

  Gregor’s eyes flick to me. “He’s the family member you borrowed money from?”

  “No,” I bite out.

  “Ah,” he says, as if understanding. His eyes flick between us, and I get it. He thinks Mack and I are together.

  “Can we get this done?” I growl.

  He gives me a sly smile. “How’re your ribs?”

  “Best you fuckin’ stop taunting’ her,” Mack snarls. “And take the money, endin’ this.”

  “Miakoda,” Gregor says, his eyes going to Mack. “No need to get snappy.”

  “End it, Gregor or you will find not only me on your ass, but the entire club.”

  He sighs dramatically. “Fine, give me the rest of the cash.”

  Mack hands it over, and Gregor counts it. “Good.”

  “I trust now this shit is finished,” Mack says, his voice a low whip.

  Gregor meets his eyes, and the look he gives Mack makes me feel uneasy. “Of course.”

  “Not sure I trust you,” Mack snarls, stepping slightly in front of me, his hand curling around my wrist.

  Gregor presses a hand to his chest, a slow grin on his face “Me? Are you saying I’m dishonest, Miakoda?”

  “I’m sayin’ I don’t fuckin’ trust you.”

  He waves a hand, “The debt is settled. Next time you might want to keep your girlfriend on a leash.”

  “Excuse me!” I cry, but Mack tugs my wrist so hard I’m forced to close my mouth.

  “If that’s it?” Mack hisses.

  Gregor nods, still grinning, and goes to turn. That’s when it happens. The gunfire. It comes out of nowhere, and the bullet goes into Gregor’s back, sending him soaring forward and landing on the ground with a thump. I scream. Mack pulls me behind his back and spins around, pulling his gun out and lifting it.

  “Jaylah!”

  That voice.

  I peer around Mack, my heart pounding, to see Samuel running towards me a gun waving about in his hands. Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. Gregor makes a gurgling sound on the ground, and my chest seizes.

  “That’s,” I croak, “Samuel.”

  Mack snarls a curse as Samuel comes closer. Samuel skids to a stop and lets his eyes travel over me. “Are you hurt?”

  “What the hell are you doing?” I cry.

  “I fucked up, Jay,” he pants. “I want you back. I know I left you with debt. Now it’s sorted.”

  Sorted.

  Sorted.

  He just shot one of the biggest drug lords in the fucking state.

  “Have you lost your mind?” I scream.

  He blinks, confused. “I’m trying to get him out of the picture.”

  “You fucking moron!”

  “We gotta go,” Mack hisses, dragging me towards the car.

  “Hey,” Samuel yells. “Hey, you. Let her go!”

  He raises his gun to Mack. Bad choice. Well, another bad choice. Mack aims his gun at Samuel’s leg and shoots. With a scream and a splatter of blood, Samuel leaps backwards and begins wailing.

  “You fuckin’ stupid boy,” Mack roars. “You just signed your own death warrant. No fuckin’ way you’re signin’ hers.”

  Mack shoves me in the car, and I watch as Samuel rolls around on the ground. “Please,” he squeals. “Don’t leave me here.”

  “Mack,” I plead. “Gregor isn’t dead.”

  “No,” he snarls. “He fuckin’ isn’t. Which means when he comes to, he’s goin’ to want blood.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Can’t you finish—”

  I don’t finish my sentence before more gunfire rings out. From three different directions, men appear, shooting at us. Gregor’s men.

  “No fuckin’ chance of me finishin’ him off. We just got stuck in a fuckin’ war,” Mack roars. “Get in.”

  “You can’t leave him,” I cry.

  With a snarl, Mack leans down and lifts Samuel up. I quickly shut the door and drop down as gunfire erupts all around us. Samuel is thrown in the back, and Mack is in the front only a second later. He puts his foot to the floor and we skid out of there in a cloud of dust. He drives almost sluggishly, and it takes me a minute to notice why.

  “You’re shot!” I cry, staring at the blood coming through his jeans.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Mack, you’re shot.”

  “It’s fuckin’ fine.”

  “Oh God,” I cry, pressing my hand to my head. “Oh God, this is bad.”

  “Fuckin’ right it’s bad.”

  I spin to Samuel who is pale, staring at nothing.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I scream.

  “I . . .”

  “Leave it,” Mack snaps. “Just leave it.”

  He drives, and as we near a hospital, I become confused. “What?”

  “Droppin’ your boy, here, off. No fuckin’ way I’m havin’ him near me.”

  “But they’ll find him, and—”

  Mack pulls over so suddenly my words are cut off. He turns to me, his eyes wild. “He just got himself labeled with the worst fuckin’ target there is. You’re automatically involved because you were there. Nothin’ I fuckin’ do will save him, and I’m not about to try. Furtherest I can keep you from this shit, the better it will be. He put himself in this mess, he can get himself out of it.”

  Then he gets out of the car, opens the door, lifts Samuel out and dumps him outside emergency. Then he’s back in the car and we’re speedi
ng home.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “No fuckin’ idea, but we’re goin’ to sort it.”

  “He knows it wasn’t me, right?”

  Mack nods sharply. “He was lookin’ at you, but don’t mean he won’t think you set it up.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “And his men saw us there. You put two and two together . . .”

  “He’ll kill us.”

  “We’ll kill him first.”

  Oh Jesus. My head spins as Mack comes to a stop outside his house. He gets out, then jerks me from the car and runs me inside. Maddox, Krypt and Tyke are waiting when we get in, and the minute they see us and then see Mack’s bleeding leg, they know things went south.

  “What the fuck happened?” Maddox asks.

  “All was fuckin’ good, until her ex showed up and shot fuckin’ Gregor.”

  “Shot him?” Krypt almost breathes.

  “Shot him. Like a fuckin’ hero.”

  “He dead?” Maddox asks.

  “Nope, and the rest of his goons showed up, which just took things from bad to worse.”

  “Fuck!” Maddox roars. “Where’s the boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I whisper, my voice broken.

  They all give me sharp looks. I shut up.

  “Hospital. I shot him,” Mack says.

  “He’s a dead man,” Krypt informs him coolly.

  “Yeah, and now she’s in danger,” Mack growls, jerking his finger to me, “because Gregor’ll think it was a set up.”

  “You got a fuckin’ plan?” Tyke asks.

  “Yeah,” I grunt. “I talk to him. He doesn’t take what I have to share, things get ugly.”

  “What?” I squeak.

  “Good option,” Maddox agrees.

  “Only one we got.”

  Shit.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JAYLAH

  I wish I loved cooking. I mean, seriously, I would die to be one of those women who are naturally skilled in the kitchen, whipping up gourmet dishes and earning themselves nicknames with “Crocker” on the end. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t inherit such a gift. No, I burn toast. I’ll give myself some credit, though; I can buy cookie dough, roll it out and put it in an oven.

  That’s got to count for something.

 

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