by Kim Jones
“Dirk was fine,” he argues, but his own voice is doubtful.
“Dirk was lost. The club helped, but the only time he really lived was when he was with Saylor. And when she died, nobody had to put a bullet in him. Her death was enough to kill him.” Straightening my spine, I try to look through his eyes and into his soul. Hoping that, maybe, a small piece of it still lives.
“I’ve never begged any man for anything. My life is of no value to me compared to my family. So I have nothing to lose. But you once told me that being a coward was sometimes worth more than your pride. And I’m standing here before you, begging you to offer her the choice that you never offered Dirk. Please.”
The silence is deafening as he stares at me. I don’t know if he’s trying to read me, or figuring out how to kill me. What I do know is that I’ve done everything in my power. And that very soon, no matter if I’m breathing or not, Diem will be out of his life forever. But a small part of me still hopes that he will give her freedom to live her life wherever she wants.
“You are no coward, Shady. But you are a very stupid man.” He walks over to his desk, shaking his head the entire time. “Like I said, love is a dangerous thing. It is your weakness. I will give Diem the choice, but blood is thicker than water. And she will always choose me.”
A small part of me believes him. As much as I want to believe that Diem meant what she said, I’m not sure if I can. She was loyal to him all these years. She hasn’t known me near as long. Was I wrong to have that much faith in her? Would she really give it all up? For me? Power was her kryptonite. Without it, she would just be normal. And Diem didn’t do normal.
“Let’s call her, shall we?” Dorian says smugly. He can see the wheels turning in my head.
“No need. I’m already here.” At the sound of her voice, my eyes roll. Motherfucker. Why am I not surprised?
31
“TELL ME YOU killed Rookie,” I say as a form of greeting to my intruding little pain-in-the-ass woman.
She walks in, dressed like she’s ready to take on the world in pajama pants and flip-flops. Confused, she looks at me. “No. I wouldn’t do that.” She sounds defensive, but what she doesn’t know is that the only way she could possibly be here is if he was dead. Now that he’s not, I’m going to kill him.
“Diem,” Dorian greets her, appraising her outfit with the same disgust he’d been looking at me with. “I can see your new surroundings have rubbed off on you.”
“And I see that someone can’t move on from the past.” Her eyes glance up at the mural, and Dorian’s face grows red with anger.
Now I guess we’re all pissed. I had this shit under control. But leave it to Diem’s infuriating fucking tactics to outsmart Rookie, crash my party, and insult the don of the Underground Mafia. I think she deserves a round of fucking applause.
“I’m out, Dorian. And I’m not asking.”
I throw my hands up in surrender and take a seat, lighting a smoke that will likely be my last and enjoying the show.
“Do not come in here and demand anything of me,” Dorian threatens, grinding his fists into the desk as he leans forward. I wish she would look at me for help. If she does, I’ll shoot her myself.
“The family rules state that I’m allowed a decision in the matter. Especially considering that one of your brothers still lives.” I have to hand it to Diem. She looks more powerful in pajamas than she ever has in a business suit. Maybe even sexier too.
“You are under a blood oath.” My eyes swing to Dorian, who I’m sure has a gun strapped under his desk. Two shots—boom, boom—and Diem and I are both dead. But either she has a better plan, or she’s just stupid.
“I’m under nothing,” she says, her own accent shining through. “You forced me into this.”
“And I will force you to stay. You want a choice? Here it is. Who dies first, you or him?” He points to me, just as his hand leaves the desk.
I’m on my feet, blocking Diem’s body with my own just as the shots ring out. My right shoulder jerks, but the rush of my adrenaline keeps me from feeling the pain. I look down at Diem, who is blinking up at me. She’s fine. Uninjured. Alive—for now.
I look up to see Clark holding a gun in his hands. Looking behind me, blood is spattered on the wall where Dorian once stood. I slowly get to my feet, helping Diem up, I try to push her behind me, but she moves out of my grip.
“Find the seal,” she orders, walking quickly to the desk. She rummages through the files on top, then glances down at what must be Dorian’s body before stepping over it and opening the drawers. Her eyes are cold and unfeeling. She doesn’t look the least bit concerned that her father is lying dead at her feet. I guess when someone tries to kill you, you tend to lose the love you once had for them.
“Would somebody please tell me what the fuck is going on?” I ask, feeling helpless as I just stand here with my hands on my hips.
“Remember that whole trust talk we had a few hours ago?” Knocking books from a shelf, she pauses long enough to look at me expectantly.
“I do. But, obviously you didn’t,” I snap.
“Well, now it’s your turn to trust me. Rookie is outside. I need you to leave with him. I’ll be back at your place in two hours.”
I want to laugh at her suggestion. “Yeah. That’s gonna fuckin’ happen. How about this. Somebody tell me what the hell is going on, or I’m gonna start breaking shit. Starting with your fingers.”
“Got it,” Clark says, grabbing a silver box from a shelf. Inside is an antique seal that dates back for centuries, engraved with the family crest.
Diem pulls some papers out of the back of her pants, laying them out on the desk. Clark scribbles his signature while Diem grabs a letter opener and slices her palm. My eyes widen. “Holy shit. Y’all really believe in this whole blood thing, don’t you?”
Ignoring me, Diem commands that I find Harry, whoever the fuck that is, and bring him back. “Harry!” I yell, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She shoots me a look and I shrug. The old man with the whiskey walks in, looking at me like I shouldn’t be alive.
“Don?” he asks, searching the room for Dorian. I couldn’t kill this poor man, I’d just have to hit him in the head with a book or something.
“He’s dead, Harry,” Diem informs him, and he looks to me for confirmation.
“Sorry, Harry.”
He closes his eyes, drawing a cross over his chest before kissing his fingers and looking up. I don’t know if he’s mourning Dorian’s death, or thanking God for taking him. He walks up to the desk, signing his name to the paper before handing it back to Diem. Patting her cheek, he gives her a smile. She holds his hand to her face a minute before turning her lips to give it a quick kiss.
I watch him shuffle out, then look back at Diem, who is doing some kind of chant with Clark. Then it hits me; she’s swearing him in. Then I start realizing that there is no one else here. That all is quiet. That Diem and Clark seem to be in a hurry and my shoulder hurts like a son of a bitch.
“Um,” I say, staring at the blood that rolls down my fingertips onto Dorian’s rug. Fucker. “Where the hell is everybody?”
“They left before the elders got here,” Diem says.
“Elders?”
“The old guys from the meeting room. If they get pissed about this, nobody wants to be around to feel the wrath.” She moves the mural on the wall to reveal a safe.
“So should we be around?” I ask as the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I don’t even have a gun.
“Nope. That’s why we’re leaving. Don’t worry. Clark will handle it.”
To confirm, Clark gives me a nod. “Everything will be fine, Shady. Trust me.”
I laugh at the irony. Trust. I didn’t trust anybody anymore. Except for Harry. He walks in, handing me another glass of whiskey. “Thanks, Harry.” He smiles proudly up at me, p
atting my arm. So maybe Harry is a little crazy.
He walks out, and I whisper to Diem, “How long has he worked here?”
She looks over her shoulder at me. “Who, Harry?” I nod. “His whole life. He built this place.”
I can’t conceal my shock. “What?”
“That’s why I needed his signature. He’s the oldest living elder.”
“What, is he your uncle or something?”
Slinging a bag over her shoulder, she shakes her head. Grabbing my whiskey, she finishes it off before shooting me a wink. “He’s my grandfather.” This is one seriously fucked-up family.
True to Diem’s word, Rookie is waiting in the car outside. The first thing I do when I slide in the front seat next to him is hit him right in the jaw. “That’s for fucking up. And I’m pulling your patch for lying to me. Good luck Prospecting for the next year.”
He moves his jaw with his hand, trying to line it back up. “Do what you want. I heard a plan B and went with it. If I have to Prospect another five years, it’ll be worth it. At least you’re still alive.”
“Don’t throw that guilt trip shit on me. You gave me your word. That’s worth more than fucking plan B.”
Diem’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder from the backseat as Rookie pulls out. “It’s not his fault,” she says, but her words fade out as she switches on the light and looks at her hand. “Ohmigod! You’ve been shot!” she screams in my ear.
Rookie glances over. Looking at my face, he doesn’t like what he sees. “Shit,” he says under his breath, pressing harder on the accelerator.
Suddenly I feel weak. Removing my hoodie, I see that the sleeve is soaked in blood. “It’s just a shoulder wound,” I say, then clear my throat in an attempt to speak louder. “It’s nothing.”
“Put pressure on it. He’s lost a lot of blood,” Rookie instructs Diem.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been shot?” she asks, and the only pain I feel is at the sound of her voice that’s full of worry.
“I’m fine, pretty girl.”
“Don’t you die on me, you bastard,” she chokes out.
“I can’t. If I did, you wouldn’t be able to kill me like you promised.” Leaning my head against the back of the seat, I smirk at her.
She smiles through her tears. “How can you hate someone that you love so much?”
I start to answer her, but everything goes black.
* * *
I wake up in my bed. Rookie is asleep in a chair across from me. Diem is curled into my side and Carrie is lying next to her. There is a sling on my arm and gauze covering my shoulder. The only thing I’m wearing is my boxers, and for the life of me I can’t remember how I got here.
Then it starts coming back. I look over at Diem, who sleeps peacefully, finally free from her father’s hands. I guess a bullet in the shoulder was worth it. I move my arm and something pulls at my skin. There is an IV hooked into my arm, and an empty blood bag hanging from the post. Damn. Good thing Carrie was around.
“I’m not dead,” I announce to the room. Rookie jerks awake at my words, but Diem and Carrie both remain asleep.
“How you feeling?” Rookie asks, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
“I’m good. Hand me my smokes.”
He grabs my cigarettes from the dresser, lighting one before passing it to me. “You still pissed at me?”
I look up at him, remembering that the last thing I said was that I was going to pull his patch. “Nah, just disappointed.” No need in lying about it now.
Pulling his chair next to me, he takes a seat. “Clark came by right after you left. He’d been working on a plan of his own to get Diem out.” Dropping his eyes to the floor, he continues. “Dorian thought you were overshadowing Diem’s power. He already had plans to kill you. I figured I didn’t have anything to lose.”
“Diem’s life, Rookie. You had that to lose,” I say, flicking my ashes into his open palm.
He shakes his head. “She’d have never got on that plane, Shady. You know that as well as I do. Even if I drove her there myself, she’d have found a way to escape. That’s real love, man. I know because I got it myself.” His eyes move to Carrie. I watch him as he looks at her with the same burning love I have for Diem.
“You could have called me,” I say, pulling his attention back to me.
“Your phone’s bugged.” Fuck. Of course it is. “You didn’t take a prepaid and I knew you’d rather me stay with Diem than go after you. So, that’s what I did.”
Knowing he’ll answer truthfully, I ask, “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”
“I’d be pissed, but I’d know where your heart was. And I’d trust that you did what you truly thought was right.” The sincerity in his eyes can’t be faked. My brother is telling the truth. So I give him the same courtesy he would have shown me.
“Then that’s where we stand.” I give him a knowing nod that he returns.
“Now isn’t that sweet.” Diem’s sleepy voice fills the room. Looking up at me with tired, swollen eyes, she smiles. “Of the two shoulders you have, could you not have gotten shot in the other one? How in the hell am I supposed to sleep? This,” she says, waving her finger over my shoulder, “is my favorite pillow in the world. And you just had to go and fuck it up.”
“Well pardon me, ma’am,” I drawl, letting my southern accent shine through. “Maybe we can find another body part for the little lady to lay her head on.”
Smacking me on the stomach, she smiles. “I missed you.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Two days,” she and Rookie both announce.
At the reminder, I close my eyes. “I’m wearing a catheter, ain’t I?”
Diem nods. “That is aaaaall Carrie.”
I look over at Rookie, who tightens his jaw. “Aw, come on. She’ll probably still love you anyway.”
“I have no problem shooting the head of it off,” he growls.
I laugh, but he finds no humor in my joke. “I get it. No jokes about Carrie. He gets so sensitive,” I say to Diem, who frowns up at me.
“Do you get that defensive when people talk about me?” Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Of course I do,” I lie, knowing that I’d find it hilarious if Diem had to put a catheter in Rookie. “Remember the guy with no kneecaps?” I ask, and her frown deepens at the reminder.
“You hungry?” Rookie’s ability to change the subject has me forgiving him completely, if there was any doubt that I hadn’t already.
* * *
I’m catheter-free thirty minutes later and I still can’t meet Carrie’s eyes. It’s just fucking weird. She’s unaffected though, proud to see that I didn’t die on her makeshift operating table that was actually my kitchen floor.
We’re eating pizza, everyone reliving the two days I was out. I’m surprised to find that Carrie had to slap Diem to calm her down. I hope like hell she sleeps with a gun. But the news is good for me. I guess Diem really does love me.
It’s the most normal my life has ever been up until the moment Rookie’s phone rings. He walks outside, shooting me a look on the way. I already know it’s Nationals. Following him out on the front porch, I hear the words “I understand” before he hangs up.
“They want us in Jackpot. Tomorrow.” I drop down on the steps. “Shady,” he says, and I glance up at him, getting a sick feeling in my gut at the look on his face. “That ain’t the only problem we have.”
“Shit. What is it?” I ask, waiting for him to walk around so we’re facing each other.
“Diem has to leave the country.” My face falls at his words. “Clark says it isn’t safe for her here. She needs to be gone in a week, tops.”
“How long does she have to stay gone?” He takes a moment to answer, and in his silence, I already know.
“Forever.”
&
nbsp; * * *
“Forever?” Diem asks, even though I’ve already told her twice. We’re in my room while I try to break the news to her as gently as possible. “I’m no coward, Shady. I’m not scared of any of them.”
Grabbing her face with my good hand, I meet her eyes. “I know that. But it’s the only way. If you stay, you’ll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”
“I’m not leaving you,” she says through her teeth, her voice shaky but determined.
I offer her a sad smile. “It’s only for a little while. I’ll come as soon as I sort some things out here.”
“They won’t let you leave. I know it. There is no out for you.” I didn’t know who she’d been talking to, but I would kill them if I ever found out.
“Let me worry about Sinner’s Creed,” I try, but she shakes her head. Not listening.
“I’m not leaving unless you come with me. That’s final.” Giving me a look that confirms it, she adds, “It’s my word.”
* * *
Later that night, Rookie and I leave Diem and Carrie inside while he helps me pack up my shit in the shed. No matter the outcome, I wouldn’t be coming back here. If Diem had to leave, then I was leaving too. And if the club wouldn’t grant me my freedom, they’d have to kill me. Either way, my home in Hillsborough would only be a memory.
When the announcement is made that I want out, I know he is the one who will take it the hardest. I dread telling him, but he deserves to be the first to know.
“I’m out, Rookie,” I say, taking a seat on my bike and lighting a cigarette.
He straightens, forgetting the box he’d been packing and narrowing his eyes on me. “What?”
“I want out,” I repeat, dropping my eyes. “I love Sinner’s Creed, but I love Diem more. She needs me and damn if I don’t need her too.”
“Shady,” he starts, but I cut him off.
“When Dirk died, I lost something. The club couldn’t fill that void. I tried, but the emptiness was there. Every day I woke up, all I could think about was how incomplete I felt.” I shake my head, remembering the feeling. “Then I found her.” I smile. “From the first moment I saw her, something inside me changed. I still grieved for Dirk, but the pain was bearable. Now the only pain I feel is when she hurts.”