GUNS: The Spencer Book

by JA Huss

“Yeah, that’s why they cuffed you and we had to call the lawyers. Apparently Agent Abelli is dead. They suspect poisoning, but they won’t know for sure until they get the toxicology back.”

  I want to laugh but it’s not funny. I want to feel relieved. Ashleigh belongs to Ford, Tony really is dead now. Veronica was shot, but she’ll be OK. And Rook won’t have to testify next week.

  We’re saved.

  But if this is victory… I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.

  “It’s over,” Ford says, like he’s reading my mind. We’ve been friends for eighteen years. I’ve done everything with this guy. He’s saved my ass so many times. But today… he saved Ronnie. A few more minutes and she would’ve bled to death.

  “I owe you, man,” I tell him as he gets up and goes over to the dark window. Just contemplating for a few moments before looking back at me.

  We stare at each other for a few seconds and then he smiles.

  “No, Spencer. We’re even. It’s over now. Veronica will be fine. Rook will not have to testify. And Ashleigh and Kate are mine. All three threats neutralized.”

  Ronin and I look at each other and I know him well enough to read his mind, just as Ford read mine.

  Did Ford plan this? we ask each other.

  But Ford turns away and just stares out the window. “Ashleigh peed on the stick earlier while she was waiting to play her part.”

  We wait for more information but when he turns back to face us, his triumphant smile tells us all we need to know.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  MERC

  I’m checking out the coffee shop in the historic section of downtown Cheyenne when the call comes in. I answer it through the cigarette in my teeth. “You’re late, asshole. Report. I got a recon job going.” Tet huffs, a response that tells me he’s just as annoyed at having to report in to me, as I am that he’s late about doing it. “Job ended last night, so shut the fuck up and report.”

  “You know he’s dead. I already filed my report with the boss.” He lets out a long breath of air and now I realize he’s smoking. Tet’s a reformed smoker—this is a tell for him. He’s stressed. But hey, if I killed my brother yesterday, I’d be smoking something a lot stronger than a cigarette, that’s for damn sure. “So we’re even now. Call it, Merc. This job is over and my debt to you is cleared. Your buddy got his girl and my backup got the trial canceled. As far as I can tell, you probably owe me a favor now.”

  I click my tongue, ready to talk some shit. But then the girl comes out of the bar across the street. “My target’s here. So I’m gonna make this quick. Ford was not happy. At all. No one authorized you to hire a partner. And sure as fuck no one authorized you to hire Spencer Shrike’s fucking girlfriend.”

  He exhales more cigarette smoke and laughs. “She swore up and fucking down they were not together. I even asked him, repeatedly, if they were together. He never said a word. So as far as I’m concerned, Veronica was fair game. She was qualified and willing. End of story. It’s Shrike’s problem for keeping their relationship secret. And Ford’s problem for wanting the hit in the first place. Besides, she lived.”

  I consider my next move, letting him stew a second. Tet was born into this organization. He’s been in it from the beginning, but from what I can tell, he’s about ready to check out as well. The only question is—will he do it the easy way and let himself be killed off like his brother? Or will he do it the hard way and fight his way to the top, taking the whole thing down as he climbs?

  My bet’s on number one.

  “Well, I’m tired,” he says, almost answering my question. “They’re sending me to the beach. To relax.” He laughs loudly at this and even I smile. “For some downtime, see if I’m salvageable with a few weeks of rest.”

  “Huh. Well, they wanted Tony dead too, so what’s their problem?”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds. That’s too long in this business when everything we do is based on quick reflexes.

  “I lost someone when I took him down.”

  “Yeah.” He sure the fuck did. Amber Li-Montgomery. I don’t know Ford’s father-in-law, but I’m the one who did all the digging when Ford was plotting to steal Ashleigh out of his house. So I know how upset Li probably is right now that his golden daughter was gunned down by the son of a ruthless enemy. “Li’s gonna be pissed.”

  “Fuck Li,” Tet says. “I loved Amber, Merc. I left her behind so she’d be safe. Her husband was my number one bodyguard. He’s been looking after her for years. Until fucking Tony showed up.” He hesitates, and then exhales some more smoke. He’s really puffing tonight. “I failed my last psych exam.”

  Well, that’s my cue. “My mark’s leaving, gotta run.” I end the call and toss the phone on the seat next to me as I watch the girl hanging on her piece-of-shit boyfriend outside the bar. I’m not interested in Tet’s state of mind. Not one bit. You gotta be crazy to do a job like this. And I’ve never pretended to be sane, but I’m really not in the mood to be reminded of it at the moment.

  Because if I had just fucked up a job, caused the death of a major crime boss’ daughter, got a civilian shot, and then used my get-out-of-jail-free card to poison a former FBI agent while he was sitting in jail waiting for trial, leaving sloppy clues all over the fucking place? Clues that practically scream, ‘Yo, it’s Tet. I’m killing people here.’ And they wanted to test me? Evaluate my mental stability?

  Yeah, I’d sure as fuck fail that shit too.

  I let out a breath and try to forget about Tet. He’s a big boy, not my problem.

  I only have one thing on my mind. It’s not Ford’s hit. A hit I owed him because of that job I fucked up last Christmas.

  And it’s not Tet clearing my debt with Ford by killing Tony.

  It’s this fucking girl across the street.

  Because her father owes me big.

  And I’m here to collect.

  EPILOGUE

  SPENCER

  Seven Months Later

  It’s a beautiful October day. Well, for a few hours it is. Colorado likes to play with the temperature quite a bit, but sometimes we get lucky and get a seventy-five-degree afternoon that comes out of nowhere.

  I take full advantage of this day, lying in my hammock under the buckeye tree behind the shop. What used to be the shop. I tore it down and built a new garage attached to the house so Ronnie doesn’t have to park her minivan outside. Besides, that shop was blocking the view of the tree from the house. And now we can see it and the river from the living room.

  The screen door slaps closed and I turn my head to watch Ronnie walk across the grass to where I’m at. She’s waddling these days. Her belly is already big and round even though she’s only five months along.

  She smiles at me as she approaches, and then sits her ass down next to mine and lies back with me. We sway a little and I wrap my arms around her. “You love me for my hammock, don’t you.”

  She giggles.

  I reach down to the ground and pick up a buckeye and hand it to her.

  “And your buckeyes,” she says back.

  “What should we eat tonight?” I ask her as I kiss her on the head and slip my hand underneath her maternity shirt to rub her belly.

  “Hmmmm. Probably hospital food.”

  “What?”

  “Rook called,” she says as she turns her head to see me. “Ashleigh’s in labor.”

  I sit up and scoop her up in my arms. “Holy shit!”

  “Calm down, caveman. You’re as bad as Ford. They just left for the hospital, these things typically take a long time.”

  I ignore every word as I carry her to the house. “Ford has got to be crazy. He needs support.” I set her down when I get to the porch steps and smack her ass. “Get ready, Bomb. We gotta go.”

  She walks off towards the stairs to change or whatever she’s gotta do to be ready to meet Ford’s new baby. I’m new to all this shit, but I love the fact that Ford’s gotta be the guinea pig. Every fuckup he makes, I take notes. Then I
avoid that shit at all costs.

  Like that dumbass told Ashleigh she should try natural childbirth. Yeah, he had to sleep on our couch for three nights.

  I immediately asked Ronnie how soon she could get the drugs to make the process easier for her. She gave me a man massage that night.

  I proposed to Ronnie in the hospital while she was still groggy from the drugs they used to surgically repair her artery. Twice my Bombshell was shot at because of me. Twice she lived.

  I’m done. I told Ford and Ronin we’re all done. And they had no complaints. We need to quit while we’re ahead, and ahead simply means we’re all still alive.

  That’s a win-win-win for everyone.

  Ronin proposed to Rook last month at the party Antoine threw for her twenty-first birthday. They moved back to Denver as soon as Shrike Bikes season two filming ended. Ronin is the marketing manager for Chaput Studios and Rook is making a documentary on the inside lives of erotic models. We got picked up for a third season, but Rook says she’s done with the reality show stuff.

  I don’t blame her. Even Ronnie has lost interest in that shit. She’s all about babies now. She gave up tattooing. Not because of the blood and not because she did actually have a little nerve damage from the gunshot wound that sometimes interferes with her inking. She gave it up because she started a new business. Edible body art.

  This is the brain child of Carson Reed, if you can imagine. I added on to the Shrike Bikes building and gave them their own little studio. She paints people with colored sugar now.

  I stop in there at least once a week to fuck her with frosting. That shit gives candy pussy a whole new perspective.

  I’m still building bikes, mostly because I love building bikes. But if that show was canceled tomorrow, eh. I’m fine with it. I have a new definition of success these days and it has nothing to do with reality TV.

  My idea of success is Bombshell’s fat stomach. I smile at her as she comes back down the stairs with her shoes and sweater on.

  “What’s got you looking so guilty?” she asks.

  “Not guilty, Bomb. Just happy.”

  She leans up and wraps her arms around me. “I love you for your smile.”

  I kiss her head. “I love everything about you, Veronica Vaughn. And that wedding day can’t come soon enough for me.”

  She sighs. “I know, me too. But I’m not getting married while I’m pregnant. Ashleigh never had a real wedding, so I’m trying to talk the girls into a triple wedding next spring.”

  “I’ll see what I can do on my end.” I’m so pussy-whipped. But so are Ford and Ronin. These girls mean everything to us. If they want us to dress up in suits and tell a shitload of people we love them… well, we’re on board.

  We drive into Fort Collins talking about Ford and Ash. They don’t know what the baby’s sex is, Ford wanted to be surprised, so this is pretty exciting. When we get to the hospital I hold Ronnie’s hand up to the maternity ward and then we stop at the nurse’s station to get the room number. I’m just looking around when Ronin comes down the hallway. “Hey,” he calls out. “Ronnie, the room’s down here.”

  “Where’s Ford?” I ask Ronin as he walks up to me.

  Ronin points down a narrow hallway that ends at a little alcove with a large picture window that overlooks the mountains. “I think you should go talk to him. He’s freaking out and Ash is starting to ask what’s wrong.”

  “OK, I’ll meet you guys in there.” I kiss Ronnie and then walk down the hallway towards Ford.

  He’s got his hands in his pockets, his chin up. Like he’s just taking in the view and not having a baby today.

  “Hey,” I call out when I get close.

  He doesn’t turn, so I just walk up next to him and wait.

  He swallows hard. So hard it’s audible. Something is wrong. “It’s genetic, you know.”

  “Huh? What’s genetic?”

  He lets out a long breath of air. “What’s wrong with me. It’s genetic.”

  “Dude, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

  He looks over at me and I can see the fear on his face. “Spencer, you’ve always said that. And I just want you to know, I appreciated that you treated me like I was normal my whole life.”

  “You are normal—”

  “No,” he interrupts. “I’m not. I’m defective. And all these months with Kate, parenting a child who accepts love and touch like all other children, well…” He breathes deeply again. “I’m just afraid, Spencer. That this baby will not let us touch it. I’m afraid the baby will be like me.”

  I squeeze his shoulder but I don’t know what to say so I opt for technical stuff. “You don’t know it’s genetic, anyway. You have no clue what caused your issues.”

  “It is genetic, Spencer. I’ve studied everything about my symptoms since I was eight years old. I’ve cross-referenced every research paper done on neurological touch syndrome.” He throws me a sideways glance. “I even coined the term for it. I have commandeered grad students at the medical center in Denver to figure this out. But these things take so long. I’ve run out of time. The baby is coming today.”

  Ford looks over at me now and God, I feel so bad for him. I try to give him a smile but he looks away.

  “The baby is coming today and I have no answers. I’ve failed.”

  “Ford?” Ronin calls from the hallway. “She’s ready, dude. Ash wants you with her.”

  I grasp his shoulder again and squeeze. “Come on, it’s time. There’s no sense in worrying about it now, you’re gonna know soon enough, right? I mean look, Ford. You really need to learn to just… let go, man. I get it, you’re worried. But you can’t control everything.”

  “Says who?” he asks, all serious.

  “You’re such a dick. You know that? But you’re not defective. You’re just… a special snowflake.”

  I get a real laugh out of him for that remark.

  “Really, Aston. Think about it. God would not put another Ford on this Earth. There’s no way he’d do that to humanity.”

  Ford laughs again. “True.” He turns to look at me. “God is so damn serious. He needs to learn to go with the flow.”

  It’s my turn to laugh and I clap him on the back. “Right. Come on, it’s time to meet your kid.”

  He turns and walks down the hallway. I follow him as far as the waiting room where Ronin, Rook, and Ronnie are waiting. Kate’s at home with Ford’s mother, so it’s just the Team here today.

  Ronin and I pass the time drinking coffee and talking shit about the Broncos on the TV while the girls talk about babies. Rook’s not pregnant, but she’s almost ready. I can tell because she’s never looked so happy. She wasn’t the world’s greatest model. Or the world’s greatest student. But Rook is a damn good filmmaker. She entered her first short in a film festival and got an honorable mention.

  She’s figuring it out. And that’s all you can ask for, really. Just an opportunity to figure it all out on your own terms, in your own way.

  About an hour later a nurse walks up. “Aston family?” she asks, looking down at her clipboard.

  “Yes!” we all say together.

  “You can see the baby now.” The nurse beams a bright smile at us and then walks off.

  But my stomach is doing a little flip inside. Like I’m nervous as all hell. I want to take a moment to figure out what it means, but I have no time. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and grab Ronnie’s hand. She’s excited, as is Rook. But both Ronin and I are worried about Ford. That short walk down the hallway feels like miles, and when we finally turn the corner and enter the room, I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

  The girls rush in first. They are chatting and squealing with Ashleigh, who is looking pretty tired, but she’s beaming a smile at us.

  My eyes scan the room until I find Ford. Sitting in a chair next to the bed. Holding a little blue bundle with dark hair. A little blue bundle that is sleeping happily in his father’s arms.

  “It’s a boy,” Ford s
ays softly, like he’s trying not to wake him. He leans down to kiss the baby’s cheek. “And he’s perfect.”

  I’m not sure, because Ford is holding the baby close to his face. But I think I see a tear.

  I nod and shoot Ford with my finger. “Just like you, dude. He’s perfect just like you.”

  “What’s his name?” Rook asks excitedly. Neither Ford nor Ashleigh ever disclosed the names they were throwing around.

  “Rutherford Aston the Fifth, of course,” Ash says.

  And then Ford looks up at me and Ronin and grins. “I shall call him… Number Five.”

  We all laugh. Fucking Ford. My serious friend is a major goofball. I pull Ronnie into a hug and whisper in her ear. “Just picture it, Bomb. Kate and Number Five growing up with little Princess Shrike. They’ll be friends from birth.”

  “They’ll be a team, won’t they?” she says, her beautiful face smiling up at me.

  “They will, Bombshell. The old team might be gone, but a new one was just born.”

  EPILOGUE—PART TWO

  NUMBER FIVE

  Six years later—first day of school—St. Joseph’s, Fort Collins.

  I tap my finger on my tooth and Kate reaches out to slap it away. I frown up at her. She’s still taller than me even though we are in the same grade now. They made me skip first grade after my IQ test came back.

  Can’t a man just enjoy himself? Relish in being six instead of being rushed into the realm of seven-hood?

  I resume my tapping, but not on my tooth. Kate says that gives me away. Tells people I’m nervous. So she won’t let me do it anymore. So I tap my toe inside my shoe. No one can see my toe tapping, so it’s OK.

  I glance over at my father as he talks to Sister Nemesis. I know I’m not supposed to hate people, but Sister Nemesis tries my last nerve. She has so many rules. And honestly, I’ve been reading since I was two. Why should I have to sit cross-legged on the carpet and listen to stories like kids who can’t?

  They figure moving me up a grade will help that. But they’d have to move me into college to satisfy my academic pursuits here in this little school. That’s not gonna happen. I’m gonna make sure that never happens.