Rough Around the Edges

by Ranae Rose

  “Yeah, but my injuries aren’t that serious. And everyone’s acting like I’m some sort of saint on her death bed. It makes me feel like a drama queen.”

  “Your injuries are serious.” He pressed a hand to his face and rubbed his forehead, willing the tension there to go away as he closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of the vibrantly-colored flowers her friends and family had filled her room with. The bright colors made Ally look pale in comparison, and it pissed him off to see plants looking livelier and healthier than she did. “And we’re lucky they weren’t worse. So damn lucky.”

  Immediately after the shooting and during the ambulance ride, he’d worried he’d lose her, like in his dream. He’d tried not to, but there had been so much blood, all over everything. And beneath the red stains, her normally caramel-tan skin had looked so white. The contrast had been terrifying.

  At the hospital, they’d given her a transfusion. She still lacked her usual color, but it had obviously done her good.

  “Are you getting a headache?”

  There she went again, worrying about someone else when she was lying in a hospital with a stranger’s blood running through her veins and two bullet holes in her body. “No. I’m just so pissed it hurts.”

  Quiet minutes ticked by, but when he raised his head, she was still awake and gazing in his direction. “How’s your arm?”

  “Better. Hurts, but not that bad. I was lucky.”

  She was probably in more pain than she let on, even with the drugs. Still, she was right – she had been lucky. The bullet that had hit her upper arm had gone through skin and muscle, but it hadn’t touched bone. The doctor claimed that if it had hit a fraction of an inch to the side, it would’ve struck her axillary artery, which probably would’ve resulted in her bleeding to death on her front porch. The thought made Ryan’s stomach ball up hard, forcing bile into his throat.

  He swallowed it. “And your shoulder?” He pulled his hand from his face, eyes searching hers. That wound hadn’t been as bad – the bullet had grazed her, really.

  “I can hardly even feel any pain right now.”

  “That’s good.” He wasn’t going to argue with her. Not when something else was weighing on him. “Look, about when I showed up at your house, just before you were shot… I was coming to apologize. Brought you flowers.”

  The thought of them still on the porch, withering in a pool of her blood, filled him with a sense of urgency. He’d almost lost the chance to apologize, ever. All the more reason to say it now. “I felt bad about what I said about your family. I—”

  The room’s door swung inward with a faint creak.

  Ryan willed it to be a nurse – one who would be gone in a few minutes, leaving them alone again.

  It was Maria.

  “How was dinner?” Ally asked.

  “It was fine.” Maria resumed her post by Ally’s bedside. She and Ryan had agreed to take turns getting something to eat so that Ally wouldn’t be left alone.

  He hadn’t expected her back so soon.

  “You can go now, Ryan.” Maria turned to face him, laying a hand on Ally’s arm. “Get something to eat.”

  He shook his head. “I’m really not hungry.” Everything inside him was a hollow space filled with anger and regret, and that included his stomach. He was beyond hunger. Besides, earlier that day Maria had brought him some sort of granola bar and a soda from the vending machine in the hall. He’d eaten that.

  “Ryan, you need to eat,” Ally said. “You’re not helping me by making me worry.”

  Suppressing a sigh of exasperation, he rose. Maybe if he gave in and went, Ally would relax enough to fall asleep. “I won’t be gone long.” He leaned over the bed and pressed a kiss against her temple before leaving. Her skin was pale, but her usual heat warmed his lips.

  “Take as long as you need. I’m fine.”

  He took the hall outside Ally’s room in long strides, walking as quickly as he could without running. A nurse directed him in the direction of the nearest dining facility when he asked, not wanting to waste time wandering the corridors in search of it.

  Once there, he grabbed a pre-made sandwich and a chilled bottle of water from the display next to the cash register. The sandwich was turkey, or maybe ham – it didn’t matter. After paying he sat down at the nearest table, applied a packet of mustard to the sandwich and ate it so quickly that a couple people shot him sideways glances. After emptying the water bottle in less than a minute, he crushed the flimsy plastic in his fist and threw it into a trashcan along with the sandwich wrapper.

  He did feel a little better as he made his way toward Ally’s room. The food had dispelled the hollow feeling inside him, but it hadn’t displaced his anger or the relentless feeling of being sorry – just so fucking sorry – that he hadn’t done something to avoid what had happened. What if he’d arrived a few minutes earlier? Maybe then he would’ve passed Ally on the street and picked her up before she’d ever reached her house.

  But then, Maria would’ve been caught in the drive-by alone. She might’ve been hit, even killed.

  Hell, that might still happen to her. There was nothing to stop the people who’d sprayed the Rivera house with bullets from doing it again. Absolutely nothing.

  The truth of the fact settled into Ryan’s bones, unease crawling through his marrow and becoming a part of his very essence, shaping who he was. He’d never relax until he had Ally away from the people who’d harmed her – far away, where there was no question of their violence touching her again.

  But how could he make that happen? He couldn’t just force her to hole up in his apartment. She wouldn’t let herself be forced, for one thing, and she still might be found by anyone who really wanted to hurt her again. The entire city was a danger zone as long as the people who’d hurt her were free.

  He turned a corner, finally entering the corridor outside her room. As he approached the door with a familiar numbered plaque beside it, voices drifted from within. One was familiar – Ally’s. The other belonged to a man speaking Spanish.

  One heartbeat was all it took for the truth to settle in – the voice didn’t belong to an uncle, a cousin or a friend. It was familiar, though.

  It was Manny’s voice.

  Disbelief hit Ryan like a freight train and was quickly followed by rage that made his hand tremble as he reached for the door. After everything that had happened, how could Manny show up at Ally’s bedside? He obviously wasn’t one to worry about being welcome, but this was beyond arrogance, beyond shamelessness.

  Not for the first time, Ryan wished he could understand more than a few words in Spanish. Manny hardly ever seemed to speak anything else. Still, Ally was speaking in English. “You know who did this?”

  “Si.”

  Ryan didn’t understand the rest of what Manny said, but the simple admission was enough. Closing his shaking hand, he formed a fist. The fingers of his other arm clenched involuntarily, making his wrist ache inside its cast. He pushed the door open.

  Ally’s eyes were wide as saucers. The sight of them reminded him of how he’d hoped she’d be able to relax enough to sleep while he was gone. Fresh anger rippled through him as he tore his gaze from her face and met Manny’s eyes instead. “You know who shot her.”

  Manny, the bastard, didn’t have the manners to look surprised at all. He simply tipped his head in a nod – a shallow one, but still clearly a positive answer.

  “How did you know?” Ally’s voice was weaker than it had been less than fifteen minutes ago when she’d last spoken to Ryan. “He was speaking in Spanish.”

  “You were speaking in English.” He didn’t break eye contact with Manny. “I’m going with you to make them pay.”

  The overhead lighting was harsh on Manny’s dark eyes. A hard glint shone on the rims of his irises as he tipped his head again, his tattooed neck flexing above the collar of his sleek leather jacket.

  “After that,” Ryan continued, “it’s you and me. This is your fault.”


  Manny didn’t look surprised – which made sense, because even he had to know he was to blame – but his face contorted in unmistakable anger. “What the fuck do you know? You’re just some—” Finally, he spoke in English.

  “No!” Ally yelled so loudly she cut Manny off mid-insult. “No! Ryan, what are you thinking?” Her voice was panicked, but the scraping note of weakness in it hurt to listen to.

  “That this is never going to happen again.” He looked around the room at all the bouquets that could easily have been her funeral flowers, then met her eyes. He wouldn’t – couldn’t – just sit back and do nothing when it was possible to track down the people who’d shot her. If they weren’t stopped, they might come back. They might shoot her, or Maria, or anyone. People who would gun down innocent women in the name of revenge against someone else were a problem the world didn’t need.

  “But you can’t go. Don’t you dare.” Ally’s eyes were wide and nearly black. Her nostrils flared, and above the collar of her hospital gown, her neck was visibly hard with straining muscles. Finally, a flush had crept into her pale face. It couldn’t be good for her – not after what she’d been through.

  “I’m going.” He was and he wouldn’t draw it out, for her sake.

  “You could die!” She sat up straight, speaking the words through clenched teeth.

  She could die if he didn’t go. He didn’t say that, just crossed the room and stood by her bed. Manny had enough sense to step out of his way so that Ryan could lean in close. “I know. But I won’t. Or at least, I’ll try my best not to.” If he did die, it would be after he’d taken care of the people who’d hurt her. There was no force on earth that could take him out while they still breathed.

  Of course, he didn’t plan to die at all. Mainly because as he leaned close enough to see his own reflection in Ally’s irises, he was looking into the eyes of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Preferably, that life would be long.

  Her head nearly collided with his when she flung her legs over the edge of the mattress, breathing a pained sigh as she fought to get out of bed, the flush that reddened her cheeks creeping all the way up to her eyebrows.

  He only had one good arm, but she was so weak it was all he needed to hold her back. Firmly but carefully, he gripped her uninjured shoulder, stopping her. The expression of outrage on her face told him that if she’d been in better health, she might have punched him.

  “I’d die for you,” he said before she could try. “I’d kill for you, too. Trust me. I love you, Ally.” They were so close their noses were nearly touching, and her eyes went from narrowed to wide as her muscles loosened beneath his hand.

  He pressed his lips to hers, less careful than he should’ve been. You didn’t just tell someone you loved them and then not kiss them like you meant it. He’d planned to tell her the evening before, to explain why he’d said what he’d said, why he’d been so frustrated that she’d refused to let him protect her.

  As the tension went out of her body, she melted against him. Whether it was from exhaustion or pleasure or maybe both, it was hard to tell. But her lips were soft and hot against his, willing. He savored the heat as he drew away.

  A tremor raced through her, causing her to shake beneath his hand. “Don’t go. Don’t.”

  He stood up straight. The heat of her kiss lingered on his lips, but something else burnt inside him and throbbed in his temples – an intensity no kiss could quell, no matter how good.

  Manny stepped forward, so close his shoulder brushed Ryan’s, but there was no deliberate force about it. Whatever he said to Ally seemed to calm her a little, so Ryan didn’t try to stop him.

  They left the room together, and Ryan refused to look over his shoulder as he passed through the doorway. The urge to lay eyes on Ally again rode him hard – maybe it would drive him to succeed and draw him back to her in one piece, too.

  Chapter 20

  Neither of them spoke until they reached Manny’s car. It wasn’t new, but it wasn’t in bad shape, either. When Manny started the engine, it was obvious the vehicle was more powerful than it looked. He must’ve modified it. And why wouldn’t he? A person like him would want to be able to move fast down city streets, away from enemies, away from the police. The thought sent renewed hatred rushing through Ryan’s veins, and he had to remind himself that he needed Manny – for now.

  “Listen,” Manny said as they left the hospital behind, “I only let you come because you sounded like you meant it – about making the assholes who hurt Ally pay, I mean. I’m telling you now, you better fucking mean it. Because if you back out at the wrong moment or try some stupid shit like calling the police, you’ll fuck everything up and it’ll all be over for her.”

  For her. The words echoed through Ryan’s head, presenting him with flashback images of Ally lying on the front porch, close to bleeding out as the ambulance spilled red light all over the scene of the shooting. He didn’t acknowledge Manny’s doubt – he’d sooner jump off the bridge they were driving under than give up pursuit of the people responsible for Ally’s bullet wounds. “You think they’d try to hurt her again if we let them live?”

  “Probably.” Manny steered the car hard around a turn, glaring ahead. “That’s why we can’t fuck up.” He shot Ryan a cutting glance. “Or worse, call the police.”

  “I’m not gonna call the fucking police.”

  Manny’s suspicion rubbed him the wrong way. He’d spoken with the police earlier that same day. If he’d trusted them to get the job done, he would’ve said something then. The fact was that they’d probably never be able to prove that the men Manny claimed were responsible for the shooting were in fact guilty – and that was assuming that they’d believe Manny’s claim in the first place, which was a big if. Not that Manny would be willing to cooperate with Baltimore’s finest, anyway.

  “Good,” Manny said. “Because the people who shot Ally are the most cowardly little fucks you can imagine. Two seconds in a holding cell and they’d be ready to spill everything they know in exchange for whatever leniency they could get. They wouldn’t stay locked up long enough, even if they were proven guilty, which probably wouldn’t fucking happen anyway.”

  “You have a plan?” Ryan cut him off before he could ramble anymore about the police.

  “Of course I have a plan – find the fuckers and kill them.”

  It was about what Ryan had expected from Manny. But if Manny could lead him to the guilty parties, that was all that mattered. “How many are there?”

  “Three. There were three men in that car.”

  “And I assume you know why they shot her, too.” He couldn’t keep the venom out of his voice, but he resisted the urge to reach over and strangle Manny with his bare hands, and that was enough.

  Manny’s jaw flexed visibly, but he stared straight ahead. “They’re getting exactly what they wanted, but it’s not gonna go the way they think.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They did it to send a message – to me and to Carlos. He’s family too, even if Ally and our mother don’t want him to be, and he’s fucking pissed. I saw two of those idiots on our streets a few days ago. One of them cut me when I approached them, but I got him worse. Killed him. The other one – he ran.” The thin, fresh scar running across Manny’s jaw rippled as he clenched his jaw.

  “They probably thought they could get us to come after them mad, to go after them into their territory where they could take us down. But it’s all a fucking joke because it’s all our fucking territory and they’re going to die for stepping foot on it, just like they deserve.”

  “Yeah.” Ryan couldn’t give a shit less about whatever streets Manny thought he owned, but he was right about one thing – the men who’d shot Ally deserved to die. “So where are we going?”

  “First, to see Carlos. I need to find out what’s going on – everything that’s happened since Ally was shot.”

  “You don’t already know?”

>   “I had to buy flowers for Ally, and then make the trip to the hospital. A lot can happen in a couple hours. Hell, a lot can happen in a couple seconds.” He looked away from the street to shoot Ryan a pointed glance.

  The contents of Ryan’s stomach curdled, as bitter as the mustard he’d put on the only meal he’d had that day. Yeah, a lot could happen in a few seconds. Lives could change and end, snuffed out forever. Maybe seeing Carlos wasn’t a terrible idea. An informed plan would be the best plan. “Are you going to tell me who these people are? The ones we’re going after, I mean.”

  “They’re nobody. Just some idiots who thought they could get away with selling to our buyers, on our streets. All this shit started a couple months ago. They’ve been targeting our buyers, trying to undercut our prices. They think a few guns and some drugs make them a gang to rival ours.” As Manny guided the car around another street corner, his knuckles were as white as Ally’s face had been before the blood transfusion.

  “They’re about to find out who they’re dealing with. We’ve hit them where it hurts a couple times, but nothing like the shit storm Carlos is about to unleash on them. There are less of them than there are us, and after we wipe them off the face of the planet, nobody will even remember the stupid fucking name they gave themselves. We should’ve done it weeks ago.” His lips turned down, breaking their usual hard line and hinting at a frown.

  If Manny’s behavior so far was any indication, it was probably the closest thing to regret he’d ever openly express.

  “Good to know that they’re small,” Ryan said. “I like the idea of them being wiped off the face of the planet.”

  Manny nodded as he slowed the car, pulling up to the curb in front of a small brick house. “Wait here.”

  Ryan placed a hand on the door handle, prepared to step out. “Is this Carlos’ place?”

  “Yeah. But wait here. I’ll go in and talk to him.”

  “No. I’m not waiting in the car.” If he was going to risk his life alongside Manny, he was going to see Carlos alongside Manny, too.