by Laura Kaye
“I know,” she said back.
“Okay,” Nick said. “I have a few things that might actually count as good news.”
“Well, thank fuck for that,” Shane said, smirking.
Nick flipped him the bird. “First, Ike called. The Ravens are on board. And since they’re doing this of their own accord, we don’t have to pay to hire them anymore. They’re in this because they want to be.”
A round of cheers and applause went around the room.
“Ike and Meat did recover their men’s bodies from the rubble this morning. Once the coroner releases the bodies, the Ravens will take them out to the clubhouse to be laid to rest.” Nick shook his head. “We’ll figure out in the next day or two how our relationship with them is going to work. Second piece of good news. Kyler Vance.”
“Miguel’s partner,” Marz offered, guilt once again threatening to overwhelm him.
“Yeah,” Nick said, his brow furrowing for a moment. Nick and Miguel had been close, close enough that the older man was willing to risk his life for Nick. “This guy is with us and he’s already proving it. The media will receive an official police report saying that a gas line break caused today’s explosion here, and that until public works can fully assess the situation, the neighborhood has been evacuated and the roads blocked off.”
Holy shit. Marz’s gaze cut around the room. “Are the roads actually being blocked off?”
“That’s the plan,” Nick said. “They’re going to be putting in Jersey barriers. And Kyler’s going to sell this to whoever he needs to for as long as necessary.”
“Miguel told me he trusted Kyler and his father implicitly,” Marz said. “And Miguel’s word was always gold.”
“Amen to that,” Nick said. “So we now have a couple things going for us that should be part of the decision of whether we stay or go.” He counted off on his fingers in front of Becca’s body. “First, we finally have someone inside the police department who we can trust. Second, we have a media story saying we’ve evaced this neighborhood. Third, we will have a city-mandated, three-hundred-and-sixty degree perimeter installed around this building. And, finally, we’ll have a large contingent of Ravens here to provide additional defense.”
Silence all around for a long moment, as if everyone waited for someone else to start the conversation.
“I don’t want to run,” Sara said. “I contemplated that life, and to some extent I lived it with all the lying and the faking around Bruno.” He was the higher up in the Church Gang who had forced her into a sort of debt peonage relationship at the gang’s now-destroyed strip club. “We might be safe for a while if we fled, but if they want us, will they really stop coming at us?”
“The answer to that is easy—no,” Beckett said. “What Nick just enumerated gives me the confidence to think we should stay here. And I could work on some additional defenses of my own, too.”
“Not to cut off the conversation if someone has an opposite view,” Becca said, “but is there anyone who wants to leave Hard Ink and never look back?”
Complete and utter crickets.
Nick’s eyes went wide. “Then I guess that’s settled.”
Smiling, Becca turned her head and kissed him.
“Well, okay. So, the next thing I thought we should discuss—” Nick reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “Sorry. Oh, it’s Kyler. Speak of the devil.”
Marz took a deep breath. Good news or bad?
“Yeah?” Nick answered. Vance apparently had a lot to share because Nick’s side of the conversation was filled with a lot of one-word encouragements and responses. “What?” he asked, his tone suddenly urgent. “Are you sure?” Pause. “What are they thinking?”
Shit. What is it now?
“Thank you, Kyler. We are going to owe you. Big-time.” Nick hung up, shaking his head in disbelief. “Miguel had told Kyler about the huge cache of weapons at the storage facility. Kyler managed to get a search warrant for the facility this afternoon, and about an hour ago they raided the place.”
“And?” Marz asked. No doubt just having the storage facility neutralized was good news, but it didn’t seem big enough to have caused Nick’s reaction.
“Jimmy Church was there. He resisted arrest and opened fire on the SWAT team. They took him down. He’s dead.”
Sara gasped the loudest, and then whoops and cheers went up around the room. Marz rubbed his hand over his lips, so surprised and relieved that the major focus of their energies the past few weeks had now been taken out. He turned to Emilie and found her eyes glassy and her body trembling.
Her eyes flashed to his. “Do you think Church had Manny killed? Do you think he died because of that bounty?”
“It’s possible,” Marz said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. He hated to see her so torn apart. Given how badly Manny had been compromised—both his stability and his anonymity—it was also possible that Seneka had decided he’d outlived his usefulness and become a liability.
“Then is it horrible that I’m glad this Church guy is dead? Is it horrible that I’m feeling less and less guilty about what I did to Jeffers?” Her lip quivered.
“Aw, no, baby. It’s not horrible at all. I’ve been a soldier my whole adult life, but I don’t love violence. Still, sometimes it’s kill or be killed. Church and Jeffers both reaped what they sewed.” He kissed her softly on the lips.
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his for a long moment. “Okay,” she finally whispered.
Nick leaned toward the desk and knocked his fingers against the mouse, drawing Marz’s attention and waking up the computer tied to the various security-camera feeds. “I spent the afternoon watching what happened here this morning from various angles,” he said. “Marz, I’d like you to go through and try to screen capture and enhance any faces, the license plates, and any other clues you see.”
Marz nodded.
“But from my cursory scans, I think we can safely say the following. The attackers were skilled, coordinated, well-equipped, and well-funded. Watching them, I get a serious military vibe. Definitely not just Churchmen. Couple that with the armored vehicles, rocket launcher, unending supply of ammunition, and we’ve got military with deep pockets.”
“Seneka,” Beckett bit out.
Marz couldn’t agree more.
“That’s where my gut’s going,” Nick said. “Which is why I’m hoping Marz can spot something that might nail it down for sure. The other thing the footage reveals . . .”—pale green eyes focused on Emilie and Marz in turn—“ . . . is, uh . . . about Emilie’s brother.”
Emilie didn’t bat an eyelash. “I need to hear it, whatever it is.”
“He was one of the attackers. He came in the second of the three Suburbans. After the rocket launcher fired, he was forced out of the vehicle and shot. The SUVs left immediately afterward,” Nick said.
Marz rubbed Emilie’s back, which trembled from the effort to restrain the emotion inside her. He felt so damn bad. “So he was shot by his own team?” he asked.
“It appears that way,” Nick agreed.
Marz squeezed Emilie’s hand. “So it was either the Church Gang, which was actively hunting Manny but now is largely decimated throughout its top ranks, or Seneka, who no doubt would not appreciate the attention that Garza’s arrest might bring to them. Both had motivation.”
“And access to beaucoup weapons,” Shane said. “Though I don’t recall seeing any rocket launchers in that weapons’ cache.”
“I’d like to propose waiting until after the key search completes overnight or tomorrow morning before I dig in to that footage. The more computing power stays focused on that task, the faster we gain access to the microchip. Can that work for everyone?” Marz got agreement all around.
“I’d urge you men,” Nick said, his gaze indicating the rest of his teammates, “to all watch some of the footage. Your eyes may pick up something I missed. Otherwise, a shift of Ravens will arrive within the hour to set up s
ecurity for the night, and Kyler said the Jersey barriers will be installed first thing tomorrow morning. So, everyone, take some well-earned downtime tonight, because tomorrow we’ll get the information we need to determine where to focus next.”
A chorus of amens and about-damn-times rang out.
And, fuckin’ A. It was about damn time something went their way. And their new allies gave Marz a spark of hope that they actually had a fighting chance to beat whatever the hell it was that they were up against.
As everyone rose and talked, Marz leaned toward Emilie. “What would you like to do?” he asked.
Raucous laughter rang out from where Shane, Katherine, and Jeremy stood.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m not sure I’m feeling super social right now.”
“Well, we could grab some drinks and snacks and head up to my room. I’m sharing an apartment upstairs. It’s nothing special to look at by any means, but it’s quiet and private.”
A small smile played around her lips. “That sounds more my speed.”
Marz kissed Emilie’s cheek. “Then let’s blow this popsicle stand and not look back,” he said.
An actual grin. It didn’t last long at all, but it felt like a huge victory all the same. Because when you loved somebody, it turned out that their pain was your own, and that nothing mattered more than putting that person at ease. Derek didn’t mind any of this at all.
In fact, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Chapter 25
So, welcome to my humble abode,” Derek said, pushing open the door to his bedroom and flicking on the overhead light. He settled bottles of water and a bag of pretzels on the floor near the bed.
“Thanks,” Emilie said. It really was every bit as utilitarian as he’d warned her it was. Cement floors, unpainted drywall, and minimal on furnishings. But right now, Emilie didn’t need five-star luxury. She just needed a place to collect her thoughts. A comfortable bed on which to rest her strung-out body. And Derek.
She definitely needed Derek.
He’d been an absolute rock through the whole nightmare of this day. He always seemed to anticipate what she needed and say just the right thing. Those were rare gifts, especially when things hit rock bottom as they had today.
And it made her realize that Jack hadn’t only denied her his honesty, he’d also never really been there for her in the unconditional, accept-you-at-your-ugliest, always-have-your-back way that Derek had taught her she could have.
If Jack hadn’t cheated, I’d have never met this amazing man.
The thought nearly made her gasp as the realization set in. Maybe it had all worked out exactly as it was supposed to. The idea that fate might want her and Derek to be together was fun to contemplate, but what Emilie really wanted to know was what Derek wanted.
Could he want her in his life the way she wanted him?
Because she wanted to go all in.
“The bathroom’s just down the hall,” Derek said. “Make yourself at home. If you forget the codes to the doors downstairs, just ask me or anyone.”
“Okay,” she said, his voice jarring her from her thoughts. Which was a good thing, because she had something she had to do before she could think about anything else. She settled her bags in the corner next to her suitcase, and her gaze tripped over three more prosthetic limbs Derek had lined up against the wall. She wanted to ask him all about them, but first things first. “I have to call my mother,” she said, facing Derek.
He heaved a breath and crossed the room to her. “Aw, hell,” he said. “I’m sorry, Em. I know that’s not going to be easy.”
“No,” she said, her throat tightening as she anticipated actually saying the words Manny’s dead to her mother. “No parent should ever have to outlive their child. Anyway.” She shook her head. “I hate to do this over the phone, but it’s not like I can see her in person right now. The last thing I’d want to do is bring any kind of danger to her doorstep.”
Derek nodded. “Take your time. I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Stay?” she blurted, out of instinct more than intention.
“Of course,” he said, and he drew them to sit on the edge of the bed.
Before she could put it off another second, Emilie pressed Dial.
“Emilie?” her mother said by way of answering.
“Hi, Mama,” she said, hating that her grief colored her voice.
“What’s wrong?” Sure enough, her mother had picked up on it, too.
Emilie inhaled a shuddering breath. “I have some bad news.”
“What, mija?” she asked, her voice wavering.
“Manny, uh . . .” She shook away the fear and grief that threatened to wash over her. “Manny’s dead, Mama,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“No. Oh, no, Emilie. That can’t be true,” she rasped.
“I so wish it wasn’t,” Emilie said, unable to hold back her own tears. “But I saw him with my own eyes. The criminals he was involved with shot him.”
The only response was a soul-breaking, gut-wrenching wail.
Derek moved on the bed behind her, and placed his legs on either side of hers. And then he wrapped his body around her back and just held her.
And Emilie was pretty damn sure that he was single-handedly responsible for holding her together.
A lot of time passed with Emilie standing vigil to her mother’s grief. And sharing some of her own.
“Where are you, Emilie?” her mother finally said through her tears. “Come home to me.”
Emilie’s stomach squeezed. “I can’t. The bad guys know who I am. It’s not safe for now,” she said. “I’m sorry. I promise I will come as soon as I can, I just don’t know how long that might be.”
“My poor Emanuel really lost his way, didn’t he?” Mama shuddered a shaky breath.
“Yeah, Mama. He did.”
It took them a long time to hang up, and Emilie felt horrible and worried and drained when the line disconnected. She really wished she could be there in person to help her mother through.
She tossed her phone beside her on the bed. As shattered as she felt on the inside, a numbness was settling over her. Right now, she didn’t have more tears to cry.
Derek hugged her and pressed a kiss against her shoulder. “I know that was hard.”
“Yeah,” she said. Even her voice sounded emotionless. She turned in his arms and met his gaze. “I know it’s early, but I would like nothing more than to get out of these clothes and hide under the covers for as long as the world will let me. And I’d really like it if you’d hide with me.”
He smiled that trademark playful grin. “I will never turn down an invitation to hide under the covers with you. That’s a guarantee.”
Too tired to worry about modesty, Emilie stripped down to her purple panties, then fished a pale blue camisole out of her suitcase. With no ceremony at all, she flopped down on Derek’s bed and tugged the covers up to her shoulders.
Wearing only his boxers, Marz sat on the edge of the bed and removed his limb. And then he shifted under the covers with her. “Now,” he said. “Does hiding under the covers involve covering the head, too? Or just the body?”
Such a sweet, cute man. “Just the body. Covering the head makes it a fort.”
His eyes went wide. “Is that so? Duly noted.”
She pushed herself across the pillow, pressed her lips to his, and then turned over and burrowed her back into his front. “Would you hold me?”
“Baby, I will always hold you,” he whispered as his arm slipped around her ribs. His big palm cupped under her breast.
She took solace at the feeling of them wrapped so tightly together. His warm touch was proof of life—that she’d survived, that she had the choice to live where Manny didn’t. For a long time, she lay awake, her eyelids refusing to close and her mind refusing to shut down.
And then she tuned into the soft, even breaths that marked Derek’s unconsciousness. Focusing on him calmed the
storm in her own head. And she appreciated that so much. Right now, it meant everything.
EMILIE AWOKE INTO near-blackness, and the only thing that didn’t send her into a terror was Derek’s scent on the sheet, his heat all around her, and the hard press of his erect cock wedged against her ass.
Experimentally, she pressed back into his hips, and they surged forward against her. The small moan she unleashed was entirely involuntary.
The jolt of pleasure in that one small exchange pierced through her numbness and made her want—no, need—more. She didn’t just want the sex for the sex. She wanted to lose herself for a long while and forget the horrors of the past day. She wanted to experience life so boldly that she couldn’t help but believe that she’d survived. And she wanted to connect with Derek so hard and so deep that she’d never again feel alone.
Heart already kicking up inside her chest, she ground back against him again.
He met her thrust with one of his own and his hand massaged her breast.
Reaching down her body, her thumb hooked her panties and she pushed them downward. His hand joined hers in a flash, and together they pushed the scrap of lace far enough that she could kick them off. Derek worked his boxers off next.
“I wasn’t expecting this, Emilie,” he whispered in her ear, setting off chills all over her skin.
“I wasn’t, either,” she said. “But I need it, Derek. I need you to help me lose myself. Just for a while. I don’t want to think at all.”
“You want me to do all the thinking for you?” he asked, rocking his bare cock against her ass, his hands roaming her front.
“God, yes,” she said, arousal already coating her opening and making the tops of her thighs slick.
“Let me get a condom.” He pulled away.
She reached back a hand and grabbed his arm. “Would you feel comfortable doing it without one? I never went off my birth control, silly as that probably was. And I’m clean, I swear. Before you, I hadn’t had sex in over two years.” She was desperate to feel him as much as she possibly could.