“Give me a shot and you’ll find out,” the boy said, lifting his chin a notch. Under that wave of confidence, I realized something I should have right away. Mini-Gabe was human. Very, very human.
“Are you even legal?” I asked. I thought my reference to his age would be clearly understood, but when he bristled at my question, I wondered.
The long string of Spanish curses that followed didn’t clarify things.
“Miguel—” Jenkins cut in.
“It’s Michael now—”
“Fine. Michael. She’s not talking about your immigration status,” Jenkins explained before looking over at me. “His mom used to work in the neighborhood. Great lady. But recently her boss was caught paying her under the table because she didn’t have a social security number, and she was eventually deported.” I stared at him blankly because I had no clue what he was talking about. “She came to this country illegally.”
“Oh.”
“I knew Miguel—”
“Michael—” the teen said.
“Right. I knew Michael—he used to hang around the gym at night while his mother worked. Cleaned the place up for some extra cash. His mother came to me when she knew what was going to happen. She asked if I’d help him.”
“So you’re what? His guardian or something?”
“Not legally, but yeah, kinda. He works for me, and I give him a place to live. Enough cash to get by on.”
Jenkins just became exponentially more interesting.
“Wow…a real philanthropist,” I said. “I could have used a little of that charitable attitude when I came to town.” Jenkins pinned sharp eyes on me as if to say ‘not another fucking word about that,‘ and I laughed.
“To answer your question,” Michael said, bringing our attention back to him, “I’m seventeen. I’ll be eighteen soon enough. You wanna be my birthday present?”
I had to give it to the kid. He had balls.
I walked toward him, adding a little swing to my hips as I did. His eyes widened with every step. By the time I stood only inches away from him, he was practically breaking out in a sweat. Whether it was because he thought I was going to hurt him or take him up on his offer, I couldn’t tell. His frenetic energy could have really pointed to either. I heard his heart pounding wildly in his chest as I leaned into him, my lips at his ear.
“If I let you live until your next birthday, you can consider that my gift to you. Understand?” His head bobbed frantically. “Now, the next time I catch you talking to my chest and not my face, I’m not going to be so gracious about it.”
I pulled away enough to see the whites of his eyes taking up more space than they had before. He’d gotten my message loud and clear. A small pang of guilt tugged at my heart as I walked back to the bar, thinking that maybe I’d poured it on a bit too thick, but it was for the best. Even if I did admire the kid’s spunk, I couldn’t afford to let him get close to me. His grown counterpart hadn’t fared so well with that.
I didn’t want his fate to be the same.
Then I heard him say something as he exhaled, and once it registered, I knew I was in trouble. I knew what te amo meant. And judging by the snickering of the other guys in the room, they did too. Apparently, I’d made more of an impression on big balls than I’d intended.
I hoped it wouldn’t get him killed.
Chapter Nine
The bar was just starting to fill up for the night when things took an interesting turn. A late-forty-something guy strode up to the bar and parked it on a barstool right in front of me. One look at his shrewd eyes and intense stare and I knew something was about to go down. Too bad I wasn’t prepared for what did.
“What are you drinking?” I asked, leaning toward him.
“I’m not.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a photograph, obviously taken using a high-powered lens. In the center of it was Ward, the the now-dead werewolf. It was taken the night he died. So not good. “I’m looking for this guy. Have you seen him? I heard he likes to hang out here.”
“Him and half the neighborhood,” I replied. In response, he held the picture up for me to take a better look. “Are you a cop? Because I don’t do cops.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m not lookin’ for a quickie in the back room.” He slapped the picture down on the counter and slid it over to me. I picked it up to humor him, looking it over closely.
“Doesn’t look familiar, but I just started here. You might want to ask the bouncer.”
“I did. His memory seems to be a bit weak,” he replied, every ounce of his irritation at being stonewalled apparent.
“Well I don’t think he works the door because of his high IQ.” I tapped my temple for effect.
“You seem like a smart girl, though. Observant. The kind of girl that takes stock of her surroundings. You sure you’ve never seen him before? Maybe somewhere outside of here?”
Something in the way he spoke set me even more on edge.
“Nope. I never forget a face.”
And I won’t be forgetting his… Nyx was getting more aggressive by the second, which didn’t bode well for anyone.
The man’s eyes narrowed before he smiled wide. It looked like a vicious snare that he hoped to snag me with.
“I bet you don’t.” He tucked the photo of Ward back into his pocket, then took out something else; something I couldn’t see because it was just out of sight behind the bar. My suspense didn’t last long, though. A second later, he slapped another photo down before me, one that shot ice down my spine. “For someone who’s never seen him, you sure do keep showing up at the places he frequents.”
I stared down at a picture of me standing outside of the fight club the night Ward had been killed. With numb fingers, I picked it up and looked at it, doing all I could to school my features into an impassive expression while my mind raced.
“In case you remember anything,” he said, tossing a business card down in front of me. Then, without another word, he snatched the photo from my hand and walked away.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered to myself. Seemed like the list of potential vehicle owners that Trey had sent over to me had just gotten a lot shorter. Before anyone could spill something on it, I snatched up the business card lying on the counter and read the name: Danny Bowers, PI. “Might as well be a damn cop…”
“Who’s Danny Bowers, PI?” Jenkins asked, reading over my shoulder. I turned to face him, pinning deadly serious eyes on him.
“A big fucking problem.”
Before he could reply, I asked him to watch the bar for me and took off toward the back room. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and texted Trey, my introverted, tech-savvy uncle: Find out everything you can on a PI named Danny Bowers.
If Bowers wanted to come at me hard, he’d soon learn that turnabout was fair play.
Chapter Ten
I’d calmed down a bit by the end of the night, but not enough. Bowers was a complication that I didn’t have time for, a variable that didn’t belong in any PC equation. I needed to extract that variable before he learned too much and got himself killed for his efforts. Depending on what he already knew, I might have to put him down myself.
With that possibility weighing on me, I cleaned up the bar and cashed it out. I brought the money to Jenkins, who was sitting in his small office in the back.
“Everything come out okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” He had the nerve to look surprised. “Listen, I’m not just a hot piece of ass. I’ve got some serious math skills in this head of mine.”
His hands went up in a defensive gesture to ward off my growing anger.
“Smart and pretty. Got it.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I placed the money down on the desk.
“And I can run fast too.”
He laughed, then shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “If you’re all done up front, you can go.”
“When do you want me to come back?”
&n
bsp; “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll check and message you later.”
“Cool.”
I turned and walked toward the office door. The sound of a wooden chair’s legs scraping against the concrete floor stopped me short. I looked over my shoulder to see Jenkins standing up.
“I’ll walk you out.”
I did nothing to hide my incredulity. “Really? Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know…maybe it’s the human in me? I don’t like girls walking around alone at night.”
“Well this girl can lay waste to anyone that offends, so I’m good. Thanks, though. Chivalry looks cute on you.”
It was his turn to look horrified. “Cute? Let’s get something straight right now, half-breed. I am many things—sexy, charming…well-hung—but I am not cute.”
My smile widened. “And you’re adorable when you’re angry.”
He looked at me for a moment, curiosity in his expression.
“What do you mean ‘lay waste’ to anyone who comes after you?”
Jenkins had met Nyx briefly, but he had never seen what she could do. I hesitated, not sure how much I should tell him.
“Let’s just say that you don’t want to find out, and leave it at that for now.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, undoubtedly trying to figure out how to get the answers he wanted. Before he could ask his next question, I opened the office door and stepped through. “See you around, Cutie.”
A string of curses escorted me down the hall.
By the time I made it to the main door, I’d said goodnight to everyone else there, including Michael, who seemed in a hurry to finish up his job so he could leave with me. Poor kid had it bad.
If only he knew…
The Chicago wind greeted me like an old friend, wrapping around me and ushering me down the side street toward the bus stop. My mind was occupied with Bowers as I walked, trying to formulate a plan. I pulled out my cell phone to contact Uncle Trey, hoping he’d dug up the dirt I needed. I sent a quick text to check in, which was answered moments later. He’d have what I’d requested by mid-morning.
I tucked my phone back into my pocket, feeling better about the Bowers situation, and looked up to find a new problem in my way. Like literally in my way. Ten feet in front of me stood Gabe.
My heart dove into my stomach.
We need to end him now…
“No,” I whispered, trying to collect myself. It was hard to look at the shell of someone you’d cared so much about and not feel those old feelings. Gabe had done so much for me—I just couldn’t shake the sense of responsibility I felt for him. But it wasn’t really him any longer, was it? Dennis had made sure of that. He’d taken that sweet, loyal farm boy away from me, leaving an angry, violent replica in his place. Though my mind knew this to be fact, my heart raged against the truth. It begged for a different solution to the problem.
“Something wrong, Trouble? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughed maniacally to emphasize his statement.
A soon-to-be one.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied, steadying my voice. “Just surprised to see you.”
“You shouldn’t be. I made my intentions very clear when we last spoke.”
“So that’s it? We’re doing this right now? Right here?”
His eyes narrowed. “And if we are?”
I shrugged. “Seems a bit anticlimactic, that’s all.”
“Your arrogance is rivaled only by your selfishness, Phira. And both are going to get you killed.”
“Selfish? That’s rich. I spared you when Nyx could have ended you. I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to assuage your guilt,” he spat, lunging toward me. I stood fast against his approach, but Nyx didn’t. She shoved my ass aside and took over, ready to do what needed to be done. What I should have let her do before.
NO!
“Why should I not put an end to him? He is a threat—my specialty.”
Gabe smiled back at her, an ugly, malicious twist of his mouth.
“Are you prepared to deal with the inner turmoil you’ll face if you do that without her permission? When she can’t forgive you?” He tsked while shaking his head. “She won’t, you know. That’s the problem with her selfishness—even you are not immune to it.”
Nyx stared at him, unmoving.
“What did the psychopath leave you with?” she asked, stepping closer to him. “You must know you are no match for me, which makes me wonder what he took from you and what he replaced it with. Clearly he gave you delusions of grandeur—that much is obvious. But what did he leave you with, I wonder…”
“I remember the whore who cast me aside. The bitch who ignored my pleas for help.” He leaned closer to her, his nose brushing against hers. “And I remember the piece of shit who killed my mother.”
Nyx pressed forward against his advance, letting her lips brush his ear as she whispered her response.
“That was me, I’m afraid. Oops.”
His hands clamped down on her shoulders.
“And I’ll make you pay for it.”
The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming. I screamed at Nyx to stop just in time. When she pulled away enough to admire her work, layers of flesh hung from Gabe’s hands, leaving behind a splotchy patchwork of gristle and bone.
To his credit, he never cried out in pain. In fact, he seemed almost unfazed by her warning. Almost. The storm brewing in his glare told me that her affront would not soon be forgotten. That she’d just stoked the fire of his rage and retribution.
Fanfuckingtastic.
“I’ll see you around, Trouble.”
“And we will be ready for you,” Nyx replied, her tone cold and menacing.
Gabe brushed past her, making a point to knock into her on his way—a final fuck-you gesture. At least for the time being. I had no doubt that we’d be seeing him again.
I needed a much better plan for that encounter.
“You know that this cannot continue,” Nyx said aloud to the empty street.
I just need a little time.
“Time for what? Inspiration to strike? A miracle to occur?” Her tone was as acerbic as her energy. Point taken. “Gabe is gone, Sapphira.”
You don’t know that. We need to at least try.
“We need to put him down before the others find out what you did.”
I wanted to argue with her, but she had a point, and I knew it.
Just give me a couple of weeks. If we don’t have it sorted out by then, we can entertain plan B.
She sighed in the most put-upon way.
“Fine. But if this blows up in your face before then, be prepared for a lengthy ‘I told you so’ rant from me.”
Deal.
Feeling satisfied, she relinquished her control over our body and retreated to the background for the time being. I, however, was left with the sinking feeling that no matter how I tried, I might never be able to save Gabe—or any of the other innocents that got caught up in my storm. Gabe’s words echoed through my mind so loudly that I couldn’t escape them. Maybe I was trying to help him just to assuage my guilt.
Maybe I really was selfish.
Chapter Eleven
TS texted me as I was riding the bus home to say he’d returned and would see me later. I checked his room when I got home to find him sleeping, so I let him be and crashed in my room, exhausted. But sleep never found me.
Gabe’s words eventually drove me from the bed and out of my room after an hour of tossing and turning. They taunted me as I walked down the hall to the only place I might find peace—or at least the truth. TS had always given me that, even when I didn’t want to hear it. He had a way of delivering it without the sting it often packed, and I was going to need that.
I didn’t knock before entering his room. Instead, I tiptoed across the weathered wood floor to his bedside. He was sleeping soundly, likely exhausted by everything my father had him doing in his absence. I hated to wake him just so he could calm my insecuri
ties. That was the very definition of selfish.
Another point to Gabe.
I turned to leave but paused for a moment, hovering near the end of the bed. His foot hung out from under the covers, and I lifted the comforter carefully to tuck it away. But the second the blanket grazed his skin, I found myself whizzing through the air until my back hit the bed. There was a blade at my throat and a half naked TS practically lying on top of me.
“It’s just me,” I whispered in the darkness.
He looked down at me, his body pinning mine to the mattress below. The weight of him on top of me was thrilling and terrifying. Then he removed the blade and sat back. The absence of his skin against mine was painfully apparent.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pushed myself up to lean against the headboard.
“I just…I couldn’t sleep.”
“Something’s bothering you.”
Not a question.
I sighed, figuring there was no point in belaboring things. Instead, I blurted it out.
“Do you think I’m selfish?”
His dark brows furrowed. “Why do you ask?” When I didn’t respond, he drew his own conclusions. “Did Jenkins say something to you?”
“No! Nothing like that. I’ve been wondering this for a while now, and for some reason, I just can’t shake it tonight.”
His features and his body relaxed a bit. “I think you have been in the past, and for good reason.”
“Do you think I still am?”
He shook his head. “I think there are times you crave normalcy. Crave space. Perhaps you see these things as selfish, but they’re not.”
“Okay,” I said, mulling over his reply.
“You disagree.”
“Yes and no. I mean, take us for example. You know everything about me—you understand me better than anyone else in my life—but I feel like, when it comes down to it, I know very little about you. I feel like there are parts of your life that I don’t know about because I’ve never asked. That’s pretty selfish.”
“Maybe you don’t know because I’ve never shared them.”
Dead Zone (Blue-Eyed Bomb Book 3) Page 5