by B. B. Hamel
“Good. I’ll set it up.”
“But I’m not happy about it.”
“I know you aren’t,” I said softly, then put the truck in drive and headed back to my house. That was enough excitement for one day.
11
Ash
I sat in Gian’s truck as it idled near Rittenhouse. The streets swarmed with men and women in business clothing hurrying home from their offices, walking south to their apartments, or north to the subway and the train stations. It was a little past five and peak hours.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked Gian, shifting in my seat. I wanted to go back to his place and hide under my covers, or do anything other than talk to Stuart.
“I’m sure,” he said. “Trust me, this is important. Do you want to go over the plan again?”
I shook my head. I didn’t need him to remind me of my job. All I needed to do was confirm that Stuart was the one who paid those guys to sit on that stoop, and then I was done. I could rush back here, get in this truck, and ideally never see Stuart again.
But I had a feeling I wouldn’t be that lucky. Stuart wouldn’t leave me alone, like a lingering cold or some horrible bacterial infection that crawled beneath my skin and made my whole body rot from the inside out.
I hated him so much for making me have to deal with him still.
“I can do this,” I said, taking a breath, and opened the door.
“I’ll be nearby,” he said, and got out with me. I felt a little better, knowing he’d be watching. “Stuart won’t talk if I’m right there with you, though.”
“I know,” I said. “You’re right, I just hate this.”
Gian stepped up onto the sidewalk next to me and took my hand in his. I was surprised and didn’t pull away as he lifted my fingers to his lips. He kissed them and smiled at me, rubbing his thumb against my knuckles.
“You’re stronger than you realize,” he said and nodded once. “Now go get Stuart to tell you everything.”
I pulled my hand away and felt a blush come to my cheeks. “Fine, just don’t kiss my hand again like I’m the queen or something.”
He laughed as I walked away. “You’re not the queen, but you are my princess,” he said loudly, and I caught a goofy look from a young girl sitting on a nearby stoop. I felt my cheeks burning as I hurried down the block toward the park.
Rittenhouse was a popular spot right in downtown Philadelphia. It was a small, shady oasis, the paved paths lined with benches. Buskers played music and sang and juggled, and couples sat on blankets in the grass, or lounged out in the sun. I loved Rittenhouse and always had—it was one of those places in Philly where you could feel like you were a part of the city, and not just some anonymous person walking along its streets.
I found a bench right in the center along the main path and waited. An older couple walked past, holding hands, their hair gone white, the man loping with an awkward shuffle, and I wondered if I’d have that one day. My parents definitely wouldn’t—they barely gave a damn about each other. I don’t think I’d ever seen my parents kiss, let alone hold hands, or even act like they enjoyed being around each other.
They were like a business partnership. My mother ran the household and raised the kids, while my father went to work and earned absurd amounts of money. They both worked at maintaining the family status by going to events, making the right friends, donating to the right causes, and generally doing all the stuff that rich people were supposed to do. My mother was the backbone of the family, and my father was the beating heart, but they didn’t seem like they had any real affection.
That’s how it would be if I married Stuart. I knew it deep down. There’d never be love between us, even if he stopped being an abusive little fuck. I didn’t think I could love anyone that my parents approved of, mostly because it was a tiny pool, and I’d met them all already. I knew none of them were for me, and yet my parents didn’t seem to care.
Breeding and family name. That was all that mattered.
I sighed and leaned my head back. I wished for a second that I could be as free as all the people scattered around me. An old woman knitted on a bench across the path. Two young guys in business casual clothes drank coffee and laughed about a video one of them played on his phone. A kid with dreadlocks and ratty clothes played a ukulele and sang in a high-pitched warbling falsetto in front of a hat with a few dollars shoved inside.
I couldn’t imagine any of them thought about ruining hundreds of years of breeding and money-making.
What I wanted didn’t matter. I grew up thinking that the only important thing in my life was my family, but now I could see how empty it all was, just a beautiful vessel with nothing inside.
Stuart walked toward me from the opposite side of the park. I watched him come closer, and a smile spread across his lips when he spotted me. I felt a chill run down my skin, like a weasel winding its way through my veins, and I had to remind myself that Gian was somewhere nearby, watching for the first sign of problems.
“Hello, Ash,” Stuart said, looming over me. He wore boat shoes, khaki slacks, and a polo shirt. His hair was slicked back and expensive sunglasses blocked his ugly, empty eyes. He grinned at me, all white teeth and perfect dimples. It disgusted me.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
He sat down and left space between us. “I didn’t think I had much of a choice when your new man reached out.”
“He’s not my new anything,” I said automatically, though I wondered.
“What can I do for you, Ash?” Stuart asked. “I thought we’d have nothing to do with each other after the last little incident.”
“You mean, when you were hurting me, and Gian stepped in to stop you?” I glared at him defiantly, and he slowly took his sunglasses off.
He smiled at me, showing all his teeth like a crocodile.
“Please, don’t be dramatic,” he said. “I wasn’t hurting you at all. If I wanted to hurt you, I would hurt you, Ash.”
I pulled my gaze away and had to control myself. He was baiting me, messing with me, because he knew he could. He was a sociopath and knew what buttons to press and how to look at me. He’d had years to learn how to get under my skin.
I didn’t have to let him in anymore.
“Are you messing with Gian’s business?” I asked abruptly, the words tumbling out in a breathless convulsion.
“Excuse me?” His smile didn’t falter. He tilted his head. “His business? I don’t even know what your friend does for a living. Garbage collector, perhaps?”
I gave him a look. I was willing to bet Stuart had never seen a garbage collector in his entire life—but that said so much about the sort of person he was.
Proper men worked in finance. Anyone else was a peasant.
“You hired three men to work a corner on his territory,” I said, keeping the words low as a group of teenagers walked past in school uniforms.
“His territory?” Stuart shifted toward me. “Now what could that possibly mean?”
“Stop playing games,” I said through clenched teeth. “We know you did it.”
Stuart watched me carefully and his smile slowly faded. He rubbed his eyes then let out a tired breath. “Honestly, Ash, this would’ve been so much easier if you had just married me,” he said. “We all would’ve been happier.”
“I’d rather kill myself,” I said.
He laughed softly. “That can still be arranged.”
“Did you send the guys or not?”
He shrugged. “I sent them,” he said. “They were cheap and I thought it would be funny.”
I gaped at him and let that sink in. He thought it would be funny to hire three thugs to come work a drug corner on Gian’s turf. He thought it would be funny to start a little fight, to spark tensions in a war.
“You almost got someone killed,” I said, hands trembling. “And you think that’s funny?”
“They’re not people, Ash,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “They’re drug dealers
and criminals. So what if one of them dies? They die every day. Drug overdoses. Gunshot wounds. Stabbings. Whatever. One more cheap body’s no big deal.”
“You’re sick,” I said and stood up. “You disgusting piece of filth.”
“Sit back down,” he said sharply. “I’m not done with you.”
“I’m done, though,” I said. “If you come near Gian again, if you hire someone to come near Gian, I’m going to find you and I’m going to cut your goddamn balls off.”
He grinned and squinted. “Sounds like a blast. I didn’t know you were kinky.”
“You sick fuck.” I shook with anger as my fists clenched tightly. I wanted to kick him, hit him the way I saw Gian hit those guys. I wanted Sturt to hurt like they hurt, like I knew Gian hurt, though he wouldn’t admit it. I wanted to break Stuart’s nose, his ribs, and kill him.
God, I wanted to kill him.
“I’m going to keep coming for you, Ash,” he said, as if he were making a comment about the weather. “So long as you stay with that gangster asshole, I’m going to keep coming. The Healy family is shockingly accommodating, so long as you have money. And I do have a lot of money, don’t I?” He laughed and slipped his sunglasses back on.
“Good luck with that,” I said. “Gian’s going to kill you.”
“Darling, I want him to try.”
He stayed sitting as I walked away. I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me and was breathing hard by the time I left the park. Gian joined me when I moved past the tall, black fence, and onto the main sidewalk again. He put an arm around my waist and steered me away from the park, across the street, and into an alley next to a large apartment complex.
“How’d that go?” he asked. “I assume great, based on the way you’re glaring at me.”
“I hate him,” I snapped. “He says he sent the guys as a joke.”
“I guess that sounds about right,” Gian said and ran a hand through his hair. “What else did he say?”
“That he’d keeping coming. He’s working with the Healy family. He’s giving them money.” I felt dizzy and moved away from Gian. I leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my back and I thought I might be having a panic attack.
Gian stood next to me and rubbed slow circles along my shoulders. “You’ll be okay,” he said softly.
“No, I won’t.” I looked at him, desperate and scared. “You don’t understand. Stuart’s family has more money than a small country. They have connections. And Stuart’s a psycho. He’s not going to stop.”
“I’ll handle him,” Gian said, glancing back toward the park. “Let’s get you home for now.”
“You don’t get it.” I stepped right up to him and grabbed his shirt. He frowned at me, head tilted, but I pushed forward. “Stuart’s going to try to kill you and take me. He’s not going to stop, Gian.”
He gently took my hands off his shirt then pulled me close against his body. I gasped softly at the feeling of his well-defined chest and hard core muscles, and tilted my chin up toward him, my mouth falling open. I was scared and angry and desperate—and I felt that crazy, wild rush in my chest as he stared down into my eyes with those gorgeous long lashes and that perfect square jaw.
“I won’t let him anywhere near you, Ash,” he said. “I swear it. You’re safe with me.”
I wanted to believe him. But then I thought of that gun in his hand, and I wondered if I’d ever be safe again.
“Let’s go back,” I finally managed to say, and extracted myself from his arms. “We’ll figure out what to do. I’m just exhausted right now.”
He said nothing as we headed back to his truck. I sat in the passenger side and stared out the window, wondering how long I’d survive and what was going to get me first, my baby’s father, or the man I was supposed to marry, or the war that threatened to swallow them all.
12
Gian
I couldn’t leave Ash alone in the house, not after the way she reacted to her meeting with Stuart.
Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her like that, but we needed to know what we were up against. She was shaken after leaving the park, and she stayed in her room for the rest of the night, and slept in late the next morning.
I brought her out on my usual rounds with me. We checked in on a few businesses and I introduced her to more of my crew. She was quiet and taciturn the whole time, but at least she looked fantastic in a pair of black yoga pants, a messy bun, and a tight tank top. She was dressed for the gym, but I liked a woman in work-out gear.
She didn’t say much and I didn’t try to draw her out. I figured she’d been through enough recently. Watching me beat the shit out of three guys at once, and nearly killing them was probably crossing a line, but making her meet with Stuart definitely tipped her over the edge. She was having trouble dealing with her current situation, and I wasn’t going to try to push her much harder.
I parked out front of a quiet bar called Sparkplug Lounge. She smiled a little at the name and narrowed her eyes as I got out of the truck.
“What’s this place?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” I said, and tugged her along behind me. “Come on, you’ll like it.”
“One of yours?” She blinked up at me as I pushed the door open.
“Not exactly,” I said.
The Sparkplug was a biker bar. The place was decorated in distressed wood, fake leather, and metal. Pictures of motorcycles covered the walls, filling every conceivable inch. The chairs and booths were shaped like bikes, and even the bar itself had wheels at the bottom, like it was a massive Harley. Ash looked around, her mouth hanging open, and laughed a little as I gestured toward the light fixtures that looked like motorcycle headlights.
“Amazing, right?”
She nodded and laughed again. “I love it,” she said.
“Bet you’ve never been in a place like this before.”
She gave me a look. “I went to college, you know. We did some crazy stuff back then.”
“I bet you did.” I grinned and steered her over to the bar. The place was empty except for Maud, the owner. She stood back near the register, counting bills and polishing glasses. She glanced over as we approached and she frowned, which was basically a smile, coming from her.
“Ah, shit,” Maud said. “Trouble.”
“Maud, this is Ash,” I said. “She’s the new girl. You’ll see her a lot, I think. Ash, meet Maud, the sharpest, oldest battle-axe I know.”
“Dick,” Maud said and held out a wet hand for Ash. “Nice to meet you, new girl.”
Ash shook it and grinned back. “Nice to meet you as well.”
Maud grunted and went back to polishing. “What can I do for you, Gian? Got to say, it’s never a good thing when you walk in that door.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “You love my visits. I spread good cheer and bring wonderful tidings.”
“You come and take my money away,” Maud grumbled. “That why you’re here, running a collection?”
“Actually, I have a present.” I took a wad of bills from my pocket and tossed them onto the bar. Maud’s eyebrows rose and she looked at me.
“The hell’s this?” she asked.
“Closing out some tabs,” I said. “Spread it out however you want.”
She laughed sharply and took the cash. “Did you know he does this?” she asked, looking at Ash. “I bet he only does it when a girl’s around, though. Especially a pretty one like you.”
“Thanks, I think,” Ash said, and shook her head. “But I have no clue what’s happening.”
“Call it charity,” I said. “When I get a little windfall, I like to come to my local bars and cover some tabs. It’s like winning the lottery for everyone.”
“More like helping drunks stay drunk, but hell, people love you for it.” Maud shoved the cash into her drawer. “Not like I’m complaining.”
“Do you do that a lot?” Ash asked me.
“Once a month or so,” I said, shrugging. “Good way to k
eep the people happy. I like to take care of my neighborhoods.”
“He likes to be liked,” Maud said. “Don’t let his good looks fool you.”
“I’m not fooled,” Ash said, smiling at me a little bit, and I think it was the first genuine smile of the day. “But he’s not so bad underneath it all.”
“I’m a stone-cold killer, girl,” I said, “and don’t you forget it.”
She grinned and Maud rolled her eyes. “You’re such a ham,” Maud said. “I don’t know how anyone buys your shit.”
“They don’t,” Ash said. “I know he’s full of it, but it’s funny to watch him try.”
I laughed even if the joke was at my expense. Whatever made Ash happy right now was fine with me. I wanted the mother of my unborn child in the best mood possible—stress could complicate the pregnancy.
Not that I could avoid all stress for her, but I could do my best.
“Good seeing you, Maud,” I said, and began back toward the door. “Collection’s on Friday. I’ll send Stefano.”
“Tell that little dickhead that he owes me,” Maud said. “You wanna cover a tab? You cover his fucking tab.”
“Stefano can pay his own bills,” I said. “Don’t let him snake his way out of it, either. And don’t let him pay in my money.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Maud said, waving at me. “You have a great day, asshole.”
I grinned and waved back. Ash left with me, and we stepped from the dim biker bar out onto the street.
Something struck me as odd right away. There’d been cars parked out front when we went inside, but the street was suddenly clear. A black SUV rolled down toward us, and as it approached, the windows lowered.
It was like instinct. Something deep inside reacted, like an animal that could smell a hurricane coming. I threw myself on top of Ash, knocking her to the ground an instant before the gunshots started.
They blared like wildfire, like lightning striking the ground all around us. I pinned her to the concrete and covered her as the bullets sprayed. I growled in pain as one hit me in the shoulder, and shrapnel pinged off the wall nearby. Ash screamed below me, but I knew she was okay— she had to be okay— when the door to Maud’s bar burst open, and the old lady appeared with a shotgun in her hands.