My eyebrows came together. Surely the dude wasn’t stupid enough to follow us to the hospital. Then every muscle in me tightened.
Jade. I couldn’t leave her alone. Another dark and twisted thought slammed into me. What if Tito had something to do with Savannah’s attack? What if Tito was going after my family and friends?
I needed to warn Dillon, although he could take care of himself. Still, he owned a shelter for battered women. If I knew Tito, he wouldn’t think twice about hurting a lady, or anyone, for that matter.
The bill of the man’s cap shielded his features as he read on his phone. I took one step, my mind racing like a horse in the Kentucky Derby. What if he has a partner with him?
I gave the room a once-over from where I stood, that time in more detail. Two hallways jutted off in front of the information desk to my right, leading to exits. To my left was the main entrance, and directly in front of me were sick patients looking pale. Some wore masks, others dozed, and others read on tablets.
A large woman stood up, blocking my view of the man.
Then two things happened at once. The paramedics rushed in from a side entrance as the crying baby wailed for the fiftieth time.
“Get out of the way,” a lady paramedic shouted.
It took me a second to realize she was talking to me. I backed up against a wall as a bloody man on a stretcher mumbled cuss words.
Hospital personnel rushed out through the double doors where Jade had disappeared.
A blond nurse spoke to the paramedics. “Maintenance is working on the door to the other entrance. It should be fixed within the hour.”
“The bullet didn’t go all the way through,” the male paramedic said, his voice fading as they wheeled the patient into the epicenter of the emergency wing.
A slew of memories flashed before me.
The night was sticky and humid. The sweat slid down my temples as I hoofed it two blocks to Hector Alvarez’s apartment. I was late, and the fucker was about to cut off my head. Hector hated when anyone was late. As I drew closer, I saw blue and red lights lighting up the rundown neighborhood. I stopped in my tracks, watching the paramedics wheel someone into their rig from Hector’s building.
I slipped into the shadows as cops and neighbors filled the street. I pulled out my phone and called Hector.
“Can’t talk, Hart.”
“What the fuck is happening?”
“Tanya is dead. They killed my girl,” he growled through the phone. “I’m going to kill them.”
A lady screamed, severing my nightmare.
The large woman who’d been sitting next to the man in the ball cap doubled over, holding her stomach. One of the nurses who’d come out to meet the gunshot victim hurried to help the large woman.
I checked on the man in the ball cap, but he was gone.
What the fuck?
I frantically searched every chair and face, but there was no dude in a red ball cap. I scanned the two hallways. Nothing. Wondering if he’d gone to the bathroom, I hoofed it in that direction. If he was the shooter, then I wanted to confirm that it was Tito who wanted me dead.
Something Jade had said stuck with me. “What if the person trying to kill you wants you to believe it’s Tito?”
If this dude wasn’t working for Tito, then I wanted to know who he worked for. Plus, the old adage of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” had never been more real. If I knew where the ball cap guy was, then I could at least protect Jade.
Fuck. He couldn’t have followed her. The double doors were locked, or at least the nurse had used a keycard to get them to open.
After checking the restroom and finding it empty, I stopped at the information desk. “Did you happen to see a man with a red ball cap walk by?” I asked the young lady.
She lifted her gaze from a stack of papers. “Sorry, I haven’t.”
I’d had my back to the main entrance when the paramedics brought in their victim. The ball cap dude must’ve left.
Clenching my fist, I charged outside like a linebacker ready to tackle my opponent.
A van screeched to a halt under the portico. I slid out of the way in the event someone inside needed emergency medical attention. Two men in bulletproof vests flew out of the back of the van and charged right at me. I wasn’t sure who these two yahoos were. Bulletproof vests made me think they were cops, but gangsters were known to wear them too.
Regardless, I wasn’t in the mood to get tossed into the back of the van. I also wasn’t ready to get axed by Tito or whoever was trying to kill me, although maybe I could reason with my perp or at least draw the attention away from Jade. The farther away from the hospital I got, the less danger Jade would be in.
My reflexes finally kicked in, and I spun around and sprinted through the parking lot.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind me.
Just as I reached the street, the van braked, blocking me.
One of the men chasing me tackled me to the ground. “Move, and I’ll hurt you.”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
He pressed my face into the pavement and, with his free hand, wrenched my arm behind me. Next thing I knew, he was slapping cold metal cuffs on me.
Motherfucker.
He dragged me upright. “Get up.”
I squirmed as I managed to stand, then I rammed my shoulder into him.
Baldy gripped my arm as he ushered me to the back of the van. “Get in.” He shoved his hand into my shoulder and pushed.
I stumbled forward as I climbed in, landing face first on the floor.
A deep, irritating laugh scraped the inside of my skull. “Get him up,” Travers ordered one of his men.
Baldy growled something under his breath, and for the second time in a matter of minutes, he yanked me up again. That time he was more forceful, almost jerking my arm out of my socket. Then he shoved me down into a sitting position as though I were a bratty child. “There.”
My butt hit the floor hard, and a pointy object jammed into my tailbone. I spat at him.
He was about to dive at me when Travers kicked out his leg, holding up his shiny loafer. “Easy, Frost. We need him.”
Travers wasn’t getting shit out of me.
“You know I could hold you for fourteen days under a terrorism threat,” Travers said.
If my hands weren’t cuffed behind me, I would’ve thrown him the middle finger. “You could, but my lawyer would have me out in a day or two.” Still, I didn’t want to spend another minute in a jail cell.
Once the doors closed, total darkness blanketed the small space, and the blood rushed to my head.
Breathe, man.
I inhaled and exhaled, thinking of anything but the small space. I was a second away from freaking the fuck out. I swallowed thickly as that suffocating feeling I’d always felt in the hole gripped me like a vise. Beads of sweat popped up on my forehead and temples. Nausea sat heavy in my stomach. My mouth was dry, and if I didn’t get any light soon or get the fuck out of the van, I would puke then pass out.
Travers shined a light at me. “What’s wrong? Afraid we’re transporting you back to your warm bunk in prison?”
My breathing was shallow, and if I had any saliva, I would’ve spat in his face.
“He looks pale,” Frost said.
I shivered as more sweat blanketed my neck.
“Maybe we should take him back to the hospital,” the other agent said.
Travers lowered the flashlight, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Nah, Oscar. He’s putting on a show.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself. Just then, the van swerved, knocking me to one side. Nausea sloshed inside my stomach. In the hole, I didn’t have the motion with the darkness. The two together were seriously making me want to claw my way out of the moving van.
Oscar scrutinized me as though he were a doctor. “Boss, I think he’s going to black out.”
Travers laughed. I despised the sound since it r
eminded me of my old man, but with the predicament I was in, I would trade my old man for these fuckers. I could fight my father and not run the risk of sleeping in my bunk back in prison.
I sucked in the musty air and swallowed the acid lingering in my throat. “Why the cloak-and-gun snag?”
The butts of their guns peeked out from their hips on all three of them.
“You ran,” Travers said. “Didn’t your attorney tell you we would be in touch?”
“Not at eight at night,” I fired back. “What do you want?” I knew what he wanted, but I asked anyway. “I’m not helping you take down my brother.”
A smug grin emerged on Travers. “You will.”
I attempted to shake the hair from my eyes but failed. “Just because you’re my parole officer, it doesn’t mean squat.”
Travers’s green gaze bore a hole through me. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. I got you out. I can throw you back in. I have the power to fudge records and do just about anything to make your life hell.”
I smirked as I recalled my conversation with Kelton.
“They’ll throw down some threats,” he’d said.
“Something funny?” Travers asked.
“Look, man. First, if you don’t want me to puke on your shiny loafers, I suggest you take off the cuffs.” I wasn’t lying.
He studied me for a brief moment then tipped his head at Frost.
Once free, I rubbed my wrists then combed my fingers through my sweaty hair. “Second, you’re smoking dope if you think my brother will tell me anything. He hasn’t visited me in six years. Besides, Duke is shrewd, cunning, and untrusting.”
“Even with his own blood?” Oscar asked.
“When you come from a dysfunctional family, trust has to be earned.” Duke had trusted me once, but that was a long time ago.
Travers leaned back, setting the flashlight on his lap. “We suspect the man shooting at you today is one of Duke’s men.”
I schooled my features, trying to read Travers and figure out if he was telling the truth. But behind Travers’s condescending attitude and grin, he was a hard man to read.
If he wasn’t pulling my chain, one humongous question stabbed me. When had I pissed off Duke so badly that he would want me dead? Not only that, why would my brother wait until I was out of prison to kill me?
“No comeback?” Travers asked.
The van took a sharp corner as though someone were chasing us. All of us listed to one side.
Then the van began to slow. A solid wall shielded us from the driver, and the back was devoid of windows. So I couldn’t tell if we were at a red light or our destination, wherever that might be.
I straightened and crossed my arms over my chest. “You want me to believe that my brother was at Alvarez’s apartment the night he was murdered and that he now has men trying to kill me?”
Saying both of those statements out loud made me shiver for some reason, probably because of the question Jade had posed. “What if the person who killed your boss wants you dead so you don’t find out the truth?”
Duke knew I would go to great lengths to find anything. I’d searched for over a year for our mother, who had taken off when we were boys. I hadn’t been successful, but I had put my heart and soul into scouring the streets, asking neighbors, my mom’s friends, and even my aunt who had been close to my mom. One of the only reasons I’d stopped was because of something my aunt had said.
“You won’t find her if she doesn’t want to be found.” My aunt knew her sister well. No one could find Mom, not even the cops. They hadn’t even found anything in their database of a woman fitting Mom’s name or description.
I couldn’t blame my mom for ditching my old man. However, I did blame her for leaving her kids with the monster she’d married. I wasn’t sure how I would react if I ever saw her again, but at the moment, my mom wasn’t my problem. Duke was.
Travers sighed. “Look, Hart. I know I can be a dick. But what we’re facing is some serious shit. The paramedics rushed a gunshot victim into the hospital not fifteen minutes ago. That man was in a shootout earlier with a lethal gang in Dorchester. Almost ten or more victims in gang shootings are rushed to the hospitals all over the city just about every night. This shit has to stop.”
“Do you know for sure Duke is responsible?” I asked.
“We know he’s working with the leaders of several gangs in the city. They just had a big powwow the day before Agent Brock and I met you in prison.” He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, tapped on the screen twice, then handed me the phone.
The picture in front of me was none other than my brother with two men I didn’t recognize. “I don’t see anything wrong here.”
“The man on your brother’s right is Brian McCauley,” Frost said. “He runs the gang out of Dorchester. The man on Duke’s left is McCauley’s lieutenant.”
The picture still didn’t tell me Duke was selling guns. He could very well be laundering money for them. “Is Tito Alvarez in the mix here?” Travers had mentioned gang leaders in Boston. To my knowledge, Tito had taken over his brother’s spot as leader of the Southside Creepers.
“Not that we know of,” Travers said. “The Creepers are small potatoes.”
“Don’t tell that to Tito,” I muttered. The man had an ego bigger than the universe, and if anyone wanted power and riches, it was Tito.
“Our offer still stands,” Travers said. “Get us something we can use, and your record will be expunged.”
My record could be cleared if I found out who murdered Hector. “I want that in writing, and send it over to my lawyer, Kelton Maxwell.” I wasn’t doing anything until I knew for certain the FBI wasn’t jerking my chain. Even then I wasn’t sure I would give them anything on my brother.
The van came to a stop.
Travers laughed. “Smart man.” Then he cemented his jaw. “I’ll get you our offer on paper, but Hart, if you fuck with me, your ass will be back in prison so fucking fast, you won’t know what year it is. Are we clear?”
I would rather kill myself than spend more time with true murderers. But I wouldn’t let him see me sweat over that. Besides, I wasn’t doing a damn thing for him until he came through.
“Crystal,” I said.
“Good.” Travers sat back. “Maybe after all this is done, you can marry that girl you were drooling over in the hospital.”
My eyebrows flew to my hairline. “You had a man watching me inside. He wouldn’t happen to be wearing a red ball cap?”
Travers deadpanned. “A woman.” He flashed the light in my eyes. “You look disappointed.”
Confused was more like it, and suddenly I felt the need to get back to the hospital to make sure Jade was okay. “I need to check on my girl.”
“She’s fine,” Travers said. “Our agent is watching.”
I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with the Feds keeping an eye on Jade. But maybe the dude in the red ball cap spotted the female agent, and that was the reason he’d bolted.
“Can I go then?” My nausea was still front and center.
He nodded. “Remember, Hart. You’re mine, and I can make you wish you were back inside rather than being a free man.” The seriousness in his tone kick-started the nausea that had waned.
Suddenly, I was wishing I was back in my bunk because I had a feeling that what lay ahead was not going to be sunshine and roses.
14
Jade
I chewed on not one nail, but all of them on my left hand, as I stared at Savannah through blurry, tear-filled eyes. She was in ICU, fighting for her life. I hadn’t talked to the doctor yet, but I didn’t need to.
Her face was bloodied, bruised, and swollen. Her head was wrapped in a bandage, and another bandage was wound around her neck. Her hands had cuts on them. She wasn’t moving, and if it weren’t for the breathing machine, she wouldn’t be alive.
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to get my heart to slow its pace. “God, if you’re listening, please
hear me. Please watch over Savannah. I know she has a lot of sins to repent, but she didn’t deserve to be beaten to a pulp.”
I blew out a breath, rubbing the back of my neck as I began pacing behind the curtained room. One step up, one step back. Repeat.
Despite our differences, Savannah couldn’t die. She was my baby sister. As much as I wanted to shake some sense into her, I couldn’t bear to see her like this.
The swooshing sound of the breathing machine hurt my ears and stabbed my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tears spilled out as my body began to shake.
Thank God my parents weren’t there to see Savannah. Mom would collapse if she saw her baby girl in such a state. Dad would too, but he wouldn’t show his emotions. He had always been the strong one in the family.
I half-smiled, hoping that Savannah took after him now and that she would have the spunk and fight to survive.
It was a good thing the roles weren’t reversed. I was so much like my mother, wearing my emotions on my sleeve just like she had. If I’d walked in Savannah’s shoes, I would’ve been dead a long time ago.
I paced three steps instead of one, and then four in the other direction, counting to myself while clenching my fists, biting my nails, crying, and feeling so fucking helpless. How could something like this happen? I wasn’t naive enough to believe that prisons were the best place to live. But for Pete’s sake, where were the guards, the warden, or anyone when this happened?
The first chance I had, I would pay the warden a visit. That much was certain. I wanted answers. I wanted justice. And I wanted vengeance. I wanted to strangle the woman who had done this to Savannah.
Who am I kidding? I wasn’t a fighter. I couldn’t throw a punch and never had. Yet as I continued to pace and freak out, guilt sat heavy in my stomach, burning like the inferno I’d witnessed that fateful night. Acid shot to my throat, and I swallowed down that latte I’d had earlier.
I should’ve gone to Duke. If I had, Savannah wouldn’t be hanging on by a thread. If I’d borrowed money from Mallory, Savannah wouldn’t be there.
Hart of Vengeance: The Hart Series Page 10