“I know I can’t beat you, but you can test my reflexes?” Jordan suggested.
“No.” Frank dipped under the rope. “Speedball. Now,” he snapped at him before turning to me. “You shower.” He pointed at Bruce. “You…well actually you better go get cleaned up too.” He walked off after Jordan.
“Daddy’s grumpy.” Bruce laughed as he lumbered to his feet. “C’mon bro, help me wash. If you drop the soap, I ain’t bending over.”
I was laughing as we headed to the showers.
“How many fights tonight?” Lela asked. She was curled up beside me, her hand tracing the Celtic knot design that curled round my arm as I ran my fingers ran through her hair. I was thinking about a text message I had received earlier.
“Four,” I said as I kissed the side of her head.
“I’ll help Trey on bar?”
“Ok babe,” I agreed. “You feeling better than earlier?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She snuggled in to me. “You made me feel much better.” I felt her smile as she kissed my chest.
Lela had just slipped in to helping at the Warehouse – she helped on the bar or she worked through the crowd like Mike’s girl and the others. When the fights were finished, we came home. I was laying low for those watching, remembering to be broken, but in reality, it suited me to spend the time at home with her.
I scoffed internally at myself, ‘home’. I shifted slightly so I could see her. She smiled up at me and I tucked her head back under my chin and rested back against the pillow, as my arm involuntarily held her closer. How had this happened? How had this brat come to mean so much?
I was head over heels in love with her. It scared me shitless.
“Do we have time for a nap?” Lela murmured sleepily.
“Yeah, the alarm’s set,” I answered. Her eyes were already closed. I continued to stroke her hair. She’d only been to meet her mom once, the day I’d gone to see Malcolm two weeks earlier. They’d had an afternoon of a lunch and then some drinks, Lela had only had sparkling water. Her mother had told her she wasn’t buying the act and Skinner had spent the time on the phone. It hadn’t been a successful reunion from the sounds of it. Lela had tried to connect with her mom, tried to tell her about her art school, about her degree. Her Mom wasn’t interested.
It had sparked an interesting conversation between us though. Until that moment I hadn’t had any idea what Lela was interested in either; I had never seen someone come alive when they spoke about art before. Put me in front of a painting and I could tell you if I liked it or hated it, but quite honestly, I was mostly indifferent. Put Lela in front of a painting and it was a whole different experience.
She was absolutely wasted here with me.
She hadn’t returned to her mom. Her mom hadn’t come looking, and her father had stopped phoning either of us. It really pissed me off that this was the extent of her parents’ involvement. Neither seemed bothered that she’d been sent out here because she had a ‘drug problem’. Both of them made me want to keep Lela away from them. Neither seemed concerned that she was living with a man they knew nothing about. I wasn’t entirely sure Skinner vouching for me was a good thing.
Skinner… another can of worms that I was keeping the lid firmly on. I had seen him once. I was on ‘Aaron is broken mode’. He hadn’t bought it, and I was glad. I think I would have been insulted if he had. He mentioned the house in Seattle seeming vacant; I mentioned his neck currently looking unbroken. He had made the foolish mistake of trying to take it further – which had stopped the moment I had mentioned that Malcolm had been the one to buy the drugs all those years ago. Amazing what words can remain unspoken when a mutual understanding is reached.
I hadn’t seen him since. I was pretty much being left alone, though I had no doubt I was being watched from all angles. They must have thought – as we had hoped, that with Shadow out of Boulder, I was licking my wounds.
Just as I hoped they would.
They were all idiots.
The Warehouse was packed as always. Fight three was underway when I saw Daniel Morgan approach her. Lela froze where she was. Her hair was down tonight, she was wearing a loose sweater, and her signature skinny black jeans. She’d been laughing at something Trey said as she drank a bottle of water. I’d been watching her all night.
I’d been waiting for this all night.
Her eyes searched the room for me and met mine. I saw the fear followed by the confusion and then the realisation that I knew. I didn’t move.
Her father spoke to her. She kept looking at me. Over the crowd, her eyes never left mine. He turned. I looked at him. I saw him startle at my appearance. I knew exactly what I looked like. Tonight, my shirt was sleeveless, my tattoos proudly on display, my muscles toned. My hair was slicked back and my jeans were ripped. I had made a point of standing up beside the DJ tonight, slightly elevated, easily spotted.
The message wasn’t just for him for tonight – the message was for everyone.
I was better.
I was healthy.
I was fucking ready.
Daniel Morgan turned back to his daughter; he held his hand out. She shook her head, her eyes focused on me, begging, waiting to understand. I glanced at Trey and saw him swallow nervously, knowing what he had to do and then he leaned in and spoke to her. Even across the room, I saw the tears spill over. She shook her head in denial. Trey cupped her elbow and spoke into her ear again. Her eyes flashed back at me. I shook my head once slightly to stop her, before she did something stupid.
The noise of the music, the crowd, the fight – all dimmed as I watched her. My entire focus centred on the back bar.
Lela tilted her head back and laughed out loud once in frustration. She turned swiftly and grabbed her purse and her jacket, then she grabbed Trey and gave him a hug, before pushing him away. I watched her angrily brush her eyes. She paused and looked across the room at me, a silent challenge. I held her stare, my face expressionless.
I watched her march out from the bar, walk past her father and cross towards the door. She glanced over at me once as she left, and she flipped me off. I laughed at her audacity.
Then she was gone.
I turned back to the fight as the sound from the Warehouse came rushing back in.
My chest was tight, and I knew it wouldn’t ease until I knew she was gone, safe.
Her suitcases had been packed by me over the last few days. She hadn’t even noticed. I genuinely had never met someone so entirely unaware of their surroundings as Lela. I had put her final things in tonight when she had been in the kitchen. What she didn’t have, she could replace.
When the fight was over, I walked to the rear of the unit with the cash box from fight three. My phone vibrated.
Shadow: Maria is in labour!
I smiled as I read the text. It felt like a sign I was doing the right thing.
I settled my last fighters; these two made me laugh – they were best friends. They each bet on the other to win. They hid it from everyone else, but I had caught them out the first time they fought – they were both good and evenly matched, they were a popular match. At first, I had suspected that they may try and throw matches, but they also seemed to be ridiculously competitive.
I walked them out and fight four commenced. I took up my new perch again.
My phone vibrated again.
Lela: You’re a bastard
I read the message three times. My hand tightened on the phone before shoving it in my back pocket.
Fight four went to ten rounds. All in all, another successful night in the Warehouse. I made my way over to Eddie. I felt my phone vibrate again.
Colton: She’s gone.
I gripped the phone.
Me: Did you wait?
Colton: As discussed. I watched them board and waited until they took off. She’s heading to NYC as I type.
I sat down at the back table in the industrial unit and thought back to his kitchen, to when he’d asked me what the second thing
was that he could do for me. To the afternoon when I asked him to use his father’s connection to Lela’s father and tell him how much of a shady character I was. What had happened since she had been here and to come and get his daughter and take her home.
Take her away and keep her safe.
From me.
When Colton had told me that if he told her father all that it was – all that I was – it was highly probable her father may get a restraining order. I’d told him to make it sound as bad as he possibly could. Leave her father with no option but to make sure he removed her from not only my life, but her mother’s. Because he had sent his daughter to his ex-wife’s house, whose husband worked for a drug dealer.
Colton had agreed. I had told him I needed time to heal. Then, this past weekend, I had finally told him I was ready for the plan to be put in motion. On Tuesday he had flown to New York with his own father for business and had ‘happened’ to run into Lela’s father. On Tuesday night he hadn’t been able to keep his concerns to himself anymore and had asked to speak to Lela’s father privately. On Wednesday morning, Daniel Morgan was questioning his own parental skills. By Wednesday night he had fallen out with his ex-wife when he found out she had only seen Lela once. By Thursday afternoon he had cancelled all meetings and was heading to Boulder to take his daughter home.
I looked at the message from Colton again before finally responding. She was gone. It was done.
Me: OK
I couldn’t say thank you to him, not for this. I heard the music switch off and shoved the money in the safe. I headed to the front. Trey was almost packed up. He looked at me and looked away.
“You ok?” I asked.
“No, I feel like shit,” he snapped at me. “That was shitty. She was heartbroken.”
“She’ll get over it,” I said, I poured myself a shot of Makers Mark.
“Fuck you Aaron.” Trey glared at me as he snatched the bottle off me and walked outside.
I winced. Ok, I maybe deserved that.
I turned to Mike and his brother. “You ready?” They nodded. “You can pull out if you want,” I offered.
“Fuck no,” Mike grumbled.
“Let’s go, I have one more thing to pick up.”
Jim had come through for me and got me an older version of my Ford F150 Raptor, older but still decent. It ate snow for breakfast and in December in Boulder that was all I was interested in.
I pulled up a few streets away and got out. I zipped my black hoody over my shirt and up over my head, pulling the ski mask over my face. Thanks, Kyle, for the utterly ridiculous idea. Mike and his brother John did the same.
“There’s seven in there. Tommy and that fucking skeleton Johnny make nine. Johnny carries a gun. None of the others carry. That’s a definite.” The snow was falling thick and heavy. “The back door’s been disabled, there are no customers. The three fuckers who hit me with bats and killed my truck are in there. I want them. You ready?”
They both nodded. I rolled my head on my shoulders. I was so ready for this. Retribution.
“You don’t need to do a thing, just keep them off me, I’ll do the rest,” I reminded them.
“Boss, we got you,” Mike mumbled behind his mask.
We made our way down the street and then I slipped into Two-Bit Tommy’s Bar. They didn’t even notice me. I had knocked two of them out before Tommy knew I was in his bar and Johnny had looked up from his phone.
Mike’s brother had locked the door when we went inside. I had number three on his knees and four clutching his face with a broken nose when Johnny reached for his gun. That’s when my new friend Les reached over and pressed a knife against Johnny’s throat and told him not to move.
Tommy sat still. Johnny glared at me with fury in his eyes as I watched the two others poised unsure what to do. I pulled my mask off.
“Tommy buddy, how are you?” My grin was savage. I saw Kyle. My grin widened. “Kyle, I’ve been looking all over for you my old friend.” Kyle came forward and I saw the mess of his face. “Malcolm get you?” I taunted. “Yeah, you shouldn’t play with drug dealers.”
“Kill him,” Tommy demanded. He sat there like a king of a crumbling empire who just didn’t know it yet.
I kicked one of his guys who moved at my feet. “Tommy, this is how tonight works. First, you give me the three fuckers who dumped me to die.” I looked around the room and instantly recognised one of the guys from that night at my house. “Ah, you. I bet you’re one.” He looked like he was going to throw up. “Yeah, you’re definitely one.” I looked back at Tommy. “Then I’m going to burn this ugly drug pit to the ground, with you in it.”
“You haven’t got the balls,” Johnny sneered. Les pressed the knife to his throat.
“Don’t test him,” Les murmured.
Kyle suddenly rushed me along with one of the other guys and I took great delight in finally knocking several lumps out of Kyle. From the sounds of it, everyone decided to have a go and there were a few grunts and curses from around me. I punched Kyle several times in the kidneys before bringing my knee up to his face. His nose crumpled and he passed out. I turned into the punch the other guy threw and made both of us tumble to the floor. My assailant couldn’t fight on the floor. Unfortunately for him, Frank loved training me on the floor. I had my attackers head between my thighs, crushing it within seconds. I squeezed until he passed out. I sprung up to my feet and ducked as one of the bat swingers took a lunge at me. I punched him twice to the face followed by a swift uppercut and he went down. I kicked the bastard in the head for good measure.
Then I heard a gunshot and spun. Tommy had leapt for Johnny’s gun but hadn’t had Walter’s insightful introduction to firearms. Not only had he missed, the recoil had got him in the nose. Mike had his knee in between the shoulders of one guy as his brother repeatedly bashed someone else’s head against the floor until they lost consciousness.
That left us with Tommy and Johnny. Les reached over and took the gun off Tommy – he had leather gloves on. He pocketed it and nodded at me.
He stood back.
“Take this lot out back?” I suggested to the two brothers, indicating everyone we’d just handily dealt with. They both nodded and started dragging them out.
“Now what?” Tommy looked at me as he took his hand off his nose and looked at his blood. “We’re even?”
I looked at the two of them. “No. You fucking junkie bastard. You left me to die. For what?” I shook my head. “For what?”
“Teach you respect.” Johnny spat to the side. “You had no respect for us.”
Mike came in with a five-gallon container and handed it to me and I grinned at them. “Time to burn this place down.”
“And us?” Tommy asked.
“Easy,” Les muttered. “Finish what was started,” and he slit his throat. Johnny screamed. He clambered over his friend and sobbed. Les looked at me and waited.
I looked down at the floor. I opened the gasoline container and emptied it. I heard the gunshot and looked up as Les placed the gun with Tommy’s fingerprints beside Tommy’s hand, Johnny’s body slumped at the table beside him.
I lit a cigarette; I took a long inhale. “Two weeks that crazy bastard Frank says I couldn’t smoke.”
I offered one to Les.
“I don’t smoke, it’s bad for you.”
I shrugged. “Feel better?” I asked, gesturing towards Tommy.
Les nodded. “Yeah, always bothered me that there was a job half done.” I found out over the course of the last few weeks, Les was a scary bastard. He liked jobs that were done properly and knowing someone had been paid to slit Tommy’s throat years ago and had failed, had him all sorts of twitchy.
Weirdly, I could understand that. “Malcolm already got you on the payroll?”
“Yeah, no problem at all. Thanks for that. I don’t even have to deal with drugs anymore. Proper security work.”
“Great.” I inhaled again.
“Boss?” Mike called in from the
back. “We’re heading out.”
“Ok, be right there.” I looked around. “Security tapes?”
“Hasn’t got any. Blanks, but I poured acid on them all earlier anyway,” Les answered.
I looked down at the floor. I tossed the container in a corner. I walked over to Les. “I think I’m going to stop smoking.” I flicked my cigarette onto the floor as we exited the bar.
Outside, I looked at the prone bodies already covered with snow. Kyle was gone. Slimy bastard was probably already running.
“Figures he would have crawled off,” I muttered.
“You ok with leaving them out here?” Les asked me quietly.
“They should be fucking lucky I don’t dislocate their bones first. If they wake up – at least they can walk away.” I considered them for a moment and then I headed back to my truck.
I drove home slowly while letting the nights events and the last few weeks catch up to me. After I parked in my driveway, I sat for moment, fatigue rolling over me.
When I got into the house, I untucked the 9mm from my waistband and set it beside me on the couch, my hand resting loosely on it. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes.
If I hadn’t been tuned in to having Lela in my house for all these weeks, I would never have heard the slightest creak of the floorboard. I jumped and spun as Kyle raised a gun to shoot me.
Walter’s lessons paid off. I shot first, then I stood over his body in disbelief. The sound had been explosive. I think it had deafened me. It was highly probable I had just woken my entire street.
Shit…someone was going to call the cops.
Fuck. I just shot Kyle in my house. Now what do I do?
I literally had no one to call. I couldn’t phone anyone; one person was my alibi for earlier. The other two people were each other’s – one was in New York, one was with his wife in the delivery room having his kid.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He was bleeding on my wood floor.
Dark Heart Page 34