“Yeah, I do it for the money, but I wouldn’t let any of those guys in my pants. And God knows, they try. Every freaking day. And the abuse they hurl at me if I don’t want to suck their dick…” Lucy made a gagging sound, and the picture shifted to the table, as she changed her position slightly.
Paxton’s voice was still very clear. “I don’t have anything against a woman in your profession, but I am sorry when I see some of you girls go through all that abuse in a place where you aren’t safe. What happened now that you decided to talk to me?”
“Their new prospect got drunk and all of a sudden he thought he could just do whatever he wants. He chased me, pulled my hair, slapped me. I just got on my bike barefoot and told myself enough is enough.”
“And no one came to help you?”
“They were away. I was just hoping to crash here, since you’re a female cop. I felt really unsafe. Some of my girlfriends had bad experiences at the station. I got these as a thank you in advance sort of thing.”
“That’s very nice of you. Where did you get those at this hour?” asked Paxton, and Loki chewed on his lip, nervous from just listening to the conversation. If Lucy fucked this up, she’d be in big trouble.
And there it was. Hesitation. “From the drive-thru Starbucks a few blocks away.”
“Didn’t know they have such nice croissants. They look like they just came out of the oven.”
And just like that, the van became ice cold.
“Shit,” muttered Sam as they watched the shaky picture of the glass of water on the table.
Jack bit his lip. “What can she possibly suspect her of?”
“Depends on how good Paxton is. There are cracks in Lucy’s story. Not good at all.”
Lucy continued. “I know, right? I was surprised to see them so fresh and lovely at this time. Maybe they reheat them, or something. I’d try, but I don’t do gluten. Maybe you can tell me if they’re any good.”
“Clever girl,” whispered Monster, propping himself in front of the screen. Even Loki felt his heart beat superfast when he listened on. This was the battle for Jack’s survival.
Paxton chuckled, and after a bit of rustling, she was on the screen again, relaxed in her armchair. “Come on, you had a terrible night. Treat yourself.”
“No, it’s not about that. I’m one of those weirdos who are allergic to it. I would love some nuts if you have any at home.”
Paxton leaned forward and tore open the packaging, revealing the pastries. They looked too good to be true. “Come on, it’s just us ladies here. I don’t mind it if your stomach makes some funny noises. You know you want to.”
“She’s onto her,” whispered Monster.
“How do you know? She doesn’t have her bad-cop voice on.” Jack shrugged, but the frown he was sporting proved he didn’t really disagree with Monster.
Lucy laughed. “Okay, but I’ll only have one if you do. It’s nice to talk to someone so understanding, and you know, a woman, like me.”
“That croissant looks too artisanal.”
“Are you saying Candy’s baking’s not right?” growled Sam.
“I’m saying that out of all the people here, no one thought that those pastries are too good looking for what they should be,” growled Monster.
Paxton got up. “Dig in, I’ll make a coffee for myself first,” she said, walking up to the open plan kitchen.
“We don’t have a way to pull her out though,” Jack hissed and started pacing in the tiny space at the back of the van. “Maybe we should just call her. Tell her to take off under some pretence?”
Monster took out his phone right away. Within an endless ten seconds of waiting, Lucy already picked up one of the croissants. She dropped it on the plate the moment her cell phone rang.
“Just a sec, this could be important,” she said to Paxton, who switched on the coffee machine and slowly moved toward the table. “Hello?”
Monster lowered his voice, but with the van as quiet as it was, they could hear every word. “Tell her your sister’s got an emergency. She’s very sick. Just excuse yourself and try to get her out of the house. We’ll go from there,” he said, already pulling out his gun.
“Oh, okay, oh God, that’s horrible. Thank you. No, thank you,” Lucy said and disconnected, but they still heard her on the microphone. “I’m so, so sorry, but my sister’s daughter’s ill. She’s so worried. I have to go to her. See you tomorrow then?”
Loki was in the middle of a relieved sigh when the whole bus stiffened again. There was a gun barrel pointing at them on the screen. At Lucy.
“Eat the damn pastry.” Paxton’s voice was ice cold, her face completely calm.
“What the fuck? She can’t do that!” growled Sam.
Jack was frozen, watching the screen without breathing.
“W—what is this about? Oh, my God. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but I’m sure it’s some misunderstanding,” Lucy whispered.
“Stuff that croissant down your throat,” whispered Paxton. “Do it, or I’ll blow off your fingers one by one.”
Monster sat up, his face slack. “What the fuck,” he whispered, not sounding calm for the first time since Loki met him.
“That bitch is out of her mind.” Sam ran his fingers through his mohawk.
“No, please, I told you I’m allergic…” Lucy whined, but when a shot rang through the mic, she started crying and they could see Lucy reach for the croissant.
“What do we do?” asked Loki, and Monster shook his head.
“There’s a chance she’s gonna calm down when Lucy’s done with the pastry. The drug won’t work immediately. That’ll be our chance,” he said in a tight voice as they listened to furious munching and sobs. The image of a stoic Paxton trembled on the screen.
“Eat it up. You’re here to extract information from me, aren’t you? You’ve fallen out of favor and need some leverage? I’m not gonna give you that,” she hissed.
“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lucy sniffed, but when they saw her wipe crumbs off her fingers, Paxton slapped her. The sound was so shocking, all the men in the van inhaled at once.
“Now the other one. You’re gonna eat all four, you lying piece of scum!” Paxton yelled and slapped Lucy again.
“Oh, God, why are you doing this? You’re the police... I’ve done nothing wrong,” whimpered Lucy as the dark, stoic figure of Paxton moved off the screen. Seconds later, Lucy gave a pained groan, and the picture shook again, showing Lucy’s knees.
“You think you can trick me, you biker slut? How do you even know where I live, huh?” hissed Paxton. There was another slap, and Lucy’s knees pressed together as she screamed out in pain. “You’re gonna eat it. Now swallow.”
“Paxton’s fucking mental,” Jack hissed and pulled out his gun as well. “We gotta do something. The bitch slammed my face against the table on the raid. Fuck knows what she’ll do at home.”
“She can’t have more than two of those croissants. Were going in,” said Monster, shaking his head even as he was standing up. “I don’t know how, but we need to.”
Sam opened the back of the van and jumped off into the darkness. “I’ll find the backdoor.”
Monster followed, and Jack was right behind him. He turned to Loki. “Keep to the back. I mean it.”
Loki nodded, but followed nevertheless, taking each step blindly, led by the pale blue color of the T-shirt Jack was wearing. Only now, moving over unknown terrain, which could send him tumbling to the ground any second for all Loki knew, did he realize that he had no weapon. He was just there, a liability with no purpose other than making the van more packed. It wasn’t like he could provide medical attention to Lucy. Or to Jack for that matter, if he got shot.
They approached from the front of the house when Monster pointed to the windows. Jack and Loki crouched under one, and Monster under another. Lucy’s pleading was loud enough to be heard outside and as much as Loki thought of her as a mean bitch, the hopeless sounds sent chills down
his spine. He didn’t want her anywhere near Jack, but he’d never wish her any serious harm. The choked screams and sobs were pushing holes in his skin and crawling underneath, pulling at strings he never wanted to remember.
“She’s gonna kill her,” he whispered to Jack, crouching by the wall.
“Fuck.” Jack took one look at Monster, but before Monster could even acknowledge him, Jack smashed the window with one shot from his gun, and jumped right after the bullet.
To Loki’s right, the other window fell to pieces, and bullets drummed to accompany the screams. Somewhere behind the floating curtain, Jack was facing Paxton, who hated him most of all the Coffin Nails. She would aim at him first, shoot him in the head and claim she was only protecting herself. Everyone would believe her. It was her home. She’d kill Jack and face no consequences.
Loki jumped in. He was not about to live out the rest of his life in misery after getting a chance for a do-over.
Lucy’s hands were in handcuffs, and three of the four croissants were gone. She was crying and a complete mess, in a way Loki never seen the ‘Ice Queen Stripper’ be. “Help me!” she sobbed, only to get hit on the head by Paxton.
“You dirty faggot scum!” Paxton yelled and aimed at Jack. “I gave you a choice, fucker. Put your guns down or one of you dies. Or she dies. Whatever.” Paxton put the barrel of her gun against Lucy’s head.
Monster licked his upper lip, and Loki could clearly see his forehead glimmering with sweat. “If you kill one, you have no chance of surviving. You are outgunned,” he said, not lowering his weapon. Loki stared at Jack’s back, and at the gruesome scene in front of them. There was blood on Paxton’s knuckles, but the moment Loki noticed movement in the darkness behind her, he did his best to keep his eyes off Sam.
“I bet more people would be looking for a senior officer than for a biker slut.” Paxton poked Lucy’s head with the gun, prompting her to cry out again. In the state she was in, Lucy looked much younger than in her stripper makeup and heels.
Jack’s deep breaths were all Loki could hear, all he could focus on. He wanted to fall asleep every night and hear that sound by his ear.
Paxton screamed when Sam came at her from behind. He tackled her and struggled for the gun, but she was like a wounded animal, writhing and clawing for a way out. She didn’t even care who she was shooting when she pulled the trigger. Loki was already there, pulling Jack down to the floor when something wet sprayed his face. Some of it even splashed into his eye, and he fell to his knees with shock clouding his brain. The world around him was dragging in slow motion that made his insides constrict with an unpleasant heat that spread all over his right arm.
In the midst of the chaos, Jack was like a blur, jumping at Paxton when she managed to hit Sam with the barrel of her gun and get to her knees. Jack kicked the weapon out of her hand, and pushed her to the ground again. His hands squeezed around her neck, an unpleasant reminder of the one time when Jack tried to drown him. He felt like he did then, with voices coming to him like from behind a wall of water.
He raised his hand to pull up the shirt, eager to get the wetness out of his face, but something wasn’t right. He couldn’t properly squeeze the fabric with a hand that felt strangely stiff with a cramp that was becoming increasingly painful. He looked down, and all the food he had earlier rose in his throat. For a moment, he didn’t know what he was looking at. The odd, misshapen tangle of blood, skin and protruding bone didn’t feel like it belonged on his forearm. Covered in red, it resembled the hand of a fancy scarecrow. It did twitch when he tried to move his fingers, but even twisted, the convoluted meat lacked something important. Loki swayed on his knees, nauseated as his gaze followed a red trail, all the way to a scrap of raw meat and bone lying by the wall. Pain hit him like a sledgehammer, and as much as he tried not to be even more of a nuisance to Jack, a strange mewl forced its way out of Loki’s throat.
“Let go of her, Red!” Sam yelled and pulled him back. “I think Loki got hit!” He was right back with Paxton and cuffed her with the same handcuffs the crazy bitch had used on Lucy.
“Paxton!” Monster raised his voice. “Stop moving. We have your torture, threats, violence, and intention to lie in court recorded. Jack’s tape disappears, and ours will too.”
Jack looked up at Monster with his lips parted, but then his confused gaze went to Loki. “No. No. Nononono!”
Loki bit his lips, wheezing as he stared at the blood dribbling down from the thing that was a hand and yet everything about it was wrong. He was sick just from looking at it but couldn’t stop watching. Pain radiating from the battered flesh was rapidly gaining intensity, pulsing through his flesh along with blood, and tearing down whatever protected Loki from sensing it before.
“She didn’t shoot you?” he whispered, looking up at Jack.
Jack ran his fingers through his hair and kneeled next to Loki, his blue eyes unfocused and jerky. “No, no she didn’t, baby. Your hand. Fucking God, your hand. Lie down and stay put. You can’t die on me. If you need blood, I’m gonna fuckin’ give you mine whether you want it or not.” He gently stroked Loki’s cheek, breathing hard and loud.
Loki raised the battered hand, staring at it between him and Jack. “Is our blood even all right to mix?” he whispered, suddenly overcome with a wave of trembles that went all the way down his body. Somewhere in the background, he could hear someone puking. He hoped it was Lucy.
“I… I don’t know.” Panic stained Jack’s voice. “You can’t die. Keith already died. You can’t.” He gently pulled Loki into his arms. “Sam, I need a doctor. Call Needle. I can only take him to the hospital once the bullet’s out. Fuck.”
Loki chuckled, even when the pain radiated all the way to his shoulder, as if the wrecked nerves were suddenly sparking up, all at the same time. “I’m not gonna die. I‘m just gonna be even uglier.”
“You’re perfect to me,” Jack whispered in the most tender voice, but when he picked him up, the sudden flash of pain in the injured arm made Loki cry out. “No more bleeding, okay?”
“How do I stop?” sobbed Loki, squeezing his elbow. If only he could somehow detach the pain from his mind… but it was no use.
Sam shook his head. “I’ll tell him you’re on your way. If he’s not at his place, I’m gonna let you know.”
Jack nodded and gave Loki a tiny kiss on the lips before pressing his forehead against Loki’s. “Doctor Needle. Sounds scary, right? But he’s an okay guy. Saved my ass a few times. And then we’re gonna get you to the hospital. I’m leaving, guys. Sorry for the mess, I owe you,” Jack said, but his eyes never left Loki’s as he walked out of the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Monster propped over a kneeling Lucy in the open restroom. He held her hair and spoke too quietly for Loki to hear.
Loki grabbed his hand under the crumbled wrist, trying not to scream every time any pressure was applied to his shoulder. Mastering silence took over all of Loki’s brainpower. Jack ran straight into the darkness, which seemed absolute after exiting a bright house, but Loki didn’t care. He trusted Jack not to drop him even as each step forward had gravity tugging on his body. His muscles were stiff with exhaustion by the time they reached the van, but Loki’s mind was still clouded by fear that Jack’s soothing words couldn’t extinguish.
“It could’ve been your chest,“ he uttered as Jack helped him into the passenger seat at the front.
“I’d rather it be my chest,” Jack groaned as he got in the van. “We both know I can take a bullet.”
“Yeah, but it could’ve hit your lungs, or heart. This is just a hand. It’s fine,” Loki uttered, even though he felt anything but fine. Each single move of Jack’s on the way to the car was torture as the burning sensation spread farther over his chest. Anything was better than Jack dying, bleeding out all over the floor of that damn policewoman’s house.
Jack grunted as he started the car with a squeak of tires. “Fucking hero. You ever try to do that again, I will drown you.” He went silent
for a moment and rubbed his eyes with his arm. “Don’t die.”
Loki wanted to tell Jack how little sense he was making, because Loki would die if Jack drowned him, but the first bump on the road rendered him completely speechless from the pain. His vision was getting cloudy, so he closed his eyes and sat on his side so that his injured arm didn’t touch anything. Whatever Jack would say to that, Loki liked being the hero. He’d been useful in the end. Trying to remember the taste of Jack’s lips on his own, he pulled the wonderfully smelling T-shirt closer around himself with his good hand and focused on not crying out every time the car shook on the uneven road.
Whatever happened, at least he knew that Jack would be all right, and that he would never forget the time Loki was ready to die for him.
Epilogue
“I’m really happy to be going home,” said Loki, walking down the hospital corridor alongside Jack, who was carrying the small bag of items Loki kept with him in the hospital. It felt so natural that he had to stop himself from holding on to Jack’s arm for support, but he didn’t want to stir any unnecessary attention. He still felt off balance, and he still experienced headaches, but the doctors assured him they would eventually pass. Loki was making a good recovery, even though he did babble and do some strange things after waking up. Apparently, that was normal after someone dug into your brain.
All would go back to normal. Well, all but the hand. Loki had lost his thumb, and by the time they got to the hospital, Monster and Sam had already disposed of the digit, so there had been no chance of sewing it back on. Loki would have to relearn writing, as it was his dominant hand, but whenever he got too caught up in his own misery, he thought of the man whose life he’d saved. That was enough to make it all seem worthwhile.
“Sorry it’s not much of a home right now,” Jack said, walking with such confidence, even a doctor stepped out of his way.
Since Loki had no insurance, the bills from hospital were like locust that ate into all of Jack’s possessions. At first it was any cash Jack had, then appliances and furniture. He’d sold his car, the bike with golden wheel rims, and in the end, the beach house had to go as well. At least Monster bought it off him, so Jack had told Loki that he felt like it stayed in the family somehow. He even laughed that Monster would build a sex dungeon in the cellar, but Loki could still see Jack was upset about having to let go of his party house. And yet, he never once hesitated or blamed Loki for losing the stuff he had been so fond of.
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