“Wanna dance, Glasses?” Talker asked. “Because I’d fucking love to.”
Antonio put his arm up, pushing the other guy back. Talker wasn’t okay with that, shoving Antonio back away from him with enough force to make Antonio stumble backwards. He moved to me next, right hooking me in the face.
I don’t think so, fucker!
My hand swept across my face, revealing the blood that was already falling on my arm. Everything went red. I’d had enough, lunging at the guy full force, connecting with his nose.
“Not in my cellar!” Antonio came back, trying to break up the fight that was beginning to get ugly between me and Talker. I didn’t care. I didn’t care where I was or who I was fighting. I had rage in me that no one could compete with. I wasn’t stopping. I wasn’t letting down, but before I could get another punch in, Talker threw another, but missed, hitting Antonio straight across his jaw instead.
It didn’t take more than a second before Antonio’s men swarmed, laying in punch after punch on Talker. It was no longer my battle with him—he was surrounded, getting the living shit kicked out of him by everyone else. This, of course, caused Talker’s guys to jump the pile too. I took this as my opportunity to back out and let them take care of each other. It was almost like dusting my hands clean of the situation. They were all preoccupied dealing with the mess I started. I looked up and glared—the man that made my skin crawl with fury was standing alone. Antonio was on target for me to take down myself. It was like a spotlight shining down, my golden opportunity to get revenge—to take down the fucker that hurt my girl. I didn’t care that it was against the plan. The only face I could see was his.
Antonio was mine.
With heavy feet, blood boiling, and anger so high that even I would question my sanity, I walked with determination, pushing aside any falling body in my way. To my side, I could see Micah throwing punches, but he was good, like I knew he would be. I had no worries, no reason to stop. I was balls out ready to finish what I came here for, lifting my arm, ready to plow as soon as I was close enough.
Antonio glared at me, holding up his arm to block my punch, but stumbled back a little from the force. When his feet were grounded again, he lunged forward like a caged animal, ready to go. “You’re messing with the wrong guy,” he spit, hitting me in the jaw.
I wiped my arm across my face. “You’re exactly who I want.” I held up my arm, diffusing his block before socking him in the gut. His other arm was already coming around though, locking around my neck, pounding his fist into my face.
He was solid and tough to go up against, but I wasn’t backing down. I wouldn’t fall to him. I would never let him win. I wasn’t leaving or going down without giving every last piece of myself to him … to ruin him.
We kept at it, taking blow after blow from each other for I don’t know how long. Everything was happening so fast. Even though I didn’t feel any pain, I knew that I was fucked up.
And then things got real.
A gunshot sounded, making me fall. I was hit, by what I didn’t know. I couldn’t move and felt as heavy as a ten-ton tractor trailer. I was out. I didn’t know if I was awake or even alive, but I knew I was being lifted. I was off the ground again and feeling weightless. I was flying. I was moving in mid-air, but then hit again, head first then body after, even hearing the hard smack on the cold floor.
Sometime after, I faintly heard, “Merrick!” It sounded like Micah, but I couldn’t be sure. “Come on, dude … move. I can’t fucking carry you.”
I blinked my eyes again and again until they came into focus. We weren’t in the cellar anymore, but in a room that felt like the walls were closing in. I jumped up, scared as fuck. I heard gunshot after gunshot again and saw two guys in front of me, both pulling each of my hands with so much force I wouldn’t be surprised it they separated from my body.
“Fuck, fuck,” I started to mumble as my feet began to move. We were running in a hallway, one my legs dragging and barely usable. There was a door maybe only five feet in front of us. I couldn’t feel my body, I still didn’t know if I was alive, and I sure as hell didn’t know what the fuck was happening. My body was weightless, my head blurred …
I blinked again and I was in the back of a car. I was dead. I was sure of it, but then I heard her voice, the voice that would always make my heart pump and my blood flow.
“Baby,” spilled from my mouth with the minimal amount of energy that I had left. I didn’t even know if it was audible, but it sounded it to me.
Her hand touched my face, giving me the first feeling of survival in what felt like hours. She was nodding her head as tears fell from her eyes. “I’m here, babe. I’m here,” she choked out before sniffing.
It was then that I felt pain.
“AHHH!” I yelled, reaching for my leg.
“Don’t move, babe. Please don’t move. We’re gonna get you help.”
I tried to stay still, but I couldn’t help it—my leg hurt so fucking bad I wanted to tear it from my body.
“Merrick, please!” Amelia said through choked up tears.
“What the fuck is wrong with my leg?” I finally asked.
“You were shot.”
That fucker shot me?!
“We’re almost to the apartment, just stay fucking still.” I heard Joey say in front of us.
“Joey.” I sat up a little. “You’re alive,” I pointed out, finally getting a visual of where we were and who was in the car. It was the Tahoe. We were all crunched in, Amelia and I lying in the back.
“No fucking thanks to you, asshole,” he growled.
I looked at him, confused.
“Not now,” Amelia scolded. “You’re alive … you’re all alive.”
Minutes later, we were in the garage of the building and I was being lifted out of the back by Joey and Micah.
“Jesus Christ!!!”
“Sorry, we’re trying!” Micah yelled back, lifting my leg with his right hand just like Joey was doing on the other side, my arms around their shoulders.
“I can fucking walk!” I shouted.
They both dropped my legs as I breathed in the pain that was now engulfing my body. They stayed beside me, leaving my arms around their shoulders for support.
“Let’s just hurry the fuck up!” I hopped on one foot, holding my other one off the ground.
We all moved fast, stuffing into the elevator.
“You’re a crazy son of a bitch,” Joey snickered as we rode the elevator up.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked, completely clueless. “Who shot me?”
Joey and Micah both looked at each other before Joey answered.
“I did.”
I looked at him like I could kill him with my eyes alone, already lunging towards him. Fucker!!
Micah was quick to hold me back. “Chill the fuck out,” he warned.
“I had to!” Joey threw back at me. “You were going fucking ape on Antonio—I had to act like a part of the ring—that’s our job.”
“So you were going to fucking kill me?”
“If I wanted to fucking kill you I would’ve,” he pointed out. “I shot you in the leg so you would fall, getting you out of the sight of others, because you sure as shit would’ve been killed within seconds if I didn’t.”
I closed my eyes, calming down slightly. I got it. I dodged the plan, I knew that much.
And I should’ve been killed.
I was lucky that I wasn’t.
“Thanks, man,” I told him, genuinely after opening my eyes.
He shrugged his shoulders.
As soon as the elevator doors chimed opened, two guys with suits were waiting on the other side. Immediately I was on edge again, thinking that Antonio’s gang beat us here, but was slightly calmed when they started shooting orders, obviously not wanting to kill us all.
“Carry him over to the couch,” one said while the other said something else to Miles.
Before I knew it, my hand was being poked with a needle, an IV bag was held
up by Kayla next to me, and one of the dudes tore my pant leg off.
“Fuckin’ A!” I yelled once he started to examine my leg.
“It’s going to take a minute for the pain meds to kick in. I have to start taking care of this, though. You’ve already lost a lot of blood.”
I gripped the cushions on each side of me as hard as I could, trying to channel the pain somewhere. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. It hurt too fucking bad.
The doctor sighed.
“What? Is everything okay?” I heard Amelia ask next to us.
“He’s lucky,” he told her. “Straight shot. Two holes. Entrance and exit, missing any big arteries or veins.”
“So you don’t have to take the bullet out?” Kayla asked.
“There’s no bullet to extract. I just have to get him stitched up so he doesn’t lose any more blood.”
I started to speak, but my lips were too heavy. My eyelids felt like lead. I was fading. The pain was gone. I felt like I could sleep for days.
I saw Amelia’s face above mine. She was smiling. I wanted to grab her beautiful face and pull her close to me, but my arms were dead weights, too heavy to lift. I tried to speak, but nothing but choked noise escaped.
“Close your eyes, babe. Go to sleep,” she whispered, and that’s the last I remembered.
When I woke, the sun was shining through the small gap between the curtains. I lifted my hand to scowl at the needle still taped to it and turned to see the IV pole that it was attached to beside the bed.
I sat up in panic, but my heart immediately eased when I saw Amelia on her side, facing me in the bed. I was alive and so was she. I tried to move my legs to get out of bed, but stopped. It hurt too damn much. I swept back the blankets to at least see the damage. I was stripped down to just my briefs with a huge white gauze bandage wrapped around my thigh.
I still couldn’t believe that I was shot. I didn’t remember it. I tried to play back the night but still only could remember the same as before. Not fucking much.
“Oh good, you’re awake!” Kayla came barging into the room two seconds later.
“Amelia is …” I began to say, but she was already starting to slur.
“Morning, beautiful.” I leaned over, resting a kiss on her forehead.
A smile immediately crossed her face as she reached her arms above her head, stretching.
“Jesus Christ!” I yelled, shielding my eyes from the light that Kayla let in when she opened the curtains.
“Sorry, but you guys need to wake up. You need to see the news! I can hardly believe it!” she gushed, continuing to ramble so fast that I had a hard time keeping up.
Amelia and I both looked at each other, confused, as Kayla sat down at the end of the bed and used the remote control to turn the TV to the news station. The top of the screen read “Breaking News!” in bold print with a picture of the art studio on the screen, bodies covered by white sheets being carried out on gurneys.
I sat up straighter. “Turn it up!”
She did, bringing the volume to where we could hear the news anchor.
“Last night, the remainder of New York’s biggest gambling ring was brought down. The leader, Antonio Antonacci, and his gang were found dead in the basement of an art studio now known to be their location in the early hours of this morning. The case is still ongoing with no information yet on what caused the incident leaving over ten men dead, however, some of the bodies were identified as belonging to a similar ring from California. The police are urging anyone with any other information regarding this incident to please call the Midtown New York City Police Department at 212-555-8400.”
I couldn’t fucking believe it. As much as it was exhilarating to watch and see, I still had my doubts.
“What? Why are you not jumping up and down right now?” Kayla asked. “Other than the fact that you literally can’t.” She peered down to my leg.
“It’s not confirmation that everyone is … gone.”
“They are,” she was quick to respond. “Stewart talked to Miles just a little while ago. The FBI team that he used to work for flew in this morning, confirming the known mafia members. It’s done. You guys did it!”
I looked at her like she head ten heads. I was dumbfounded. How the fuck did we pull something of that magnitude off?
Amelia rubbed my back, getting my attention. She was looking at me with a huge smile. “We did it, babe,” she said.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, squeezing her as close as humanly possible into my body, kissing her head and face over and over. “We did it,” I whispered, finally grasping the fact. “We fucking did it.”
Tears began falling from her eyes again, but this time they were the happiest fucking tears … making her smile glow even more than usual against her beautiful, flawless face.
I held her cheeks, cradling her face close to mine. “I love you so fucking much,” I murmured before pushing my lips hard and hungrily against hers. It felt amazing, like the first time—a kiss of freedom, a future, and the life that I always dreamt of having with Amelia. The fight was finally over. The fucker was rolling over in hell, and I had my baby. I had her all to myself.
It was late morning when Stewart arrived at the apartment. The doctor from last night had just stopped over, assessing my leg again, making sure that I was healing accordingly, and most importantly, giving me more pain medication.
Miles and Kayla met Stewart in the foyer, intrigued to see him there.
“I had to personally congratulate you guys,” Stewart said with a proud grin on his face. “Pretty damn impressive.” He snickered.
“So you doubted us?” I questioned, amused, from the couch.
Stewart walked in further, Miles and Kayla following to. Amelia was sitting next to me, wearing a smile that hadn’t left her face since she woke.
“Doubt?” he said with an inquisitive stare. “I wouldn’t say that, but I definitely wasn’t fully confident. It was a big endeavor—dangerous for sure.”
I smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Take it as you will. It definitely deserves praising. Probably not something I should condone among civilians, but it did take one less case off the FBI’s hands, so with that, I’ll thank you on their behalf.”
I extended my hand over the back of the couch. If I could move on my own, I would have stood, making it more personable. “You’re the guy we really need to thank,” I told him, an appreciative smile covering my face. “We wouldn’t have had nearly the knowledge or resources if we didn’t have you working alongside us.”
“It was my pleasure,” he genuinely responded, his face almost reminiscent of a proud father’s.
I was kind of in awe of Stewart. He didn’t have to help us. He was a contact of Miles’—he didn’t know me. He didn’t know Amelia. He could’ve got in some serious shit if anyone found out, but he did it anyway. I couldn’t imagine why—maybe he still had the passion of eliminating every mob alive deep within his soul … I didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter. He helped us. He saved not only my life and Amelia’s life, but everyone’s involved, too. He was a blessing to all of us anyway you looked at it.
I snickered. “You’re good in my book, Stewart.”
“Well, I appreciate it, but I should be going. Curt and I have a flight leaving in an hour. I just wanted to stop in before we left.”
I nodded in response while Amelia stood to give him a hug, showing her appreciation. He kissed her forehead and looked at her happily, more than any stranger would. I looked at them, puzzled, before peering over to Kayla for some inkling of information.
“Thanks, Uncle Stew,” she whispered quietly, stepping back from their hug.
I shifted my body as much as I could, trying to get a grip on the arm of the couch to stand. I was confused as fuck with what was going on. “Am I missing something here?” I finally asked, making Stewart, Amelia, and Miles look at me and smile. Kayla looked as lost as I did.
“Stewart
is my uncle,” Amelia said matter-of-factly, patting old Stew the retired FBI agent on the back.
What the fucking hell? My head tilted and my eyes squinted, still not understanding why I never heard about this once since this whole shit scenario went down.
Stewart was first to respond. “My apologies, Merrick,” he said warmly. “I’m not retired. I’m still on the force. I wanted to help my niece as much as possible, but I couldn’t blow my cover, you see? I couldn’t give the FBI any indication of my involvement with an illegal take down.”
Amelia bit her lip and looked at me apprehensively. I could see her worry. She was hoping that I wasn’t going to be mad with the little … HUGE fucking piece of information that she kept from me.
I looked to Miles and Kayla.
“Did you guys know about this?” I asked them both.
Kayla shook her head no while Miles nodded his head yes.
“Stewart and I do go way back,” Miles explained. “He’s a good friend of the family. When I called him the first night and told him your names, he was eager to help, wanting to protect his niece.”
“So he didn’t know anything about this then? Not until that night?”
Amelia shook her head. “No,” she said shamefully, with her eyes starting to look towards the ground. “None of my family knew. I wanted to tell them, but I guess I was too scared of the unknown and what could’ve happened—even though it did anyway.”
I exhaled heavily. Holy fucking shit! My world just kept getting fucking crazier and crazier every fucking day, but I could see the pain on my girl’s face. She was again blaming herself for her father’s death. The whole situation was a clusterfuck of insane, but I wasn’t about to let her tear herself a part again no matter how fucking confused and overwhelmed with this information I was.
“Amelia,” I started to say, looking at her point-blank, but she cut me off, her bright and happy face from this morning nowhere to be seen.
“No! A lot of things could have been different if I just let people help me—you, me … my father.”
Stewart turned her to face her, his hand squeezing her shoulder for comfort. “There’s always different ways of doing things, sweetheart, but who’s to say what the outcome would have been.” He looked at her, his caring eyes full of wisdom yet sincerity too. “Yeah, I could’ve helped you, and maybe would have been able to find a safe place for Ken, but we don’t know how it would have played out, or even if it would’ve saved him in the end. You can’t look at the ‘what-ifs.’ You can only look towards the future, and enjoy the life you have now,” he finished with a smile.
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