Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)
Page 42
My brothers lowered their eyes. They were pissed, disappointed, and neither had a damned thing to say to my accusations because they knew it was all true.
“She found out, you know. Both you shits. Uncle fuckface told her about the night our old man ran down her ma, going after that French bitch, Mercedes.”
“Shit!” Daniel's curse was extra shrill through the blood. “No wonder.”
The heavy silence was interrupted by Grigor and the women carrying Sabrina. I heard my girl groan, stood up, and screamed after them, following as quickly as I could.
“What's going on? Is she gonna make it?”
“Still breathing!” Grigor yelled back. “Doctor is on his way. We need to lay her out in your bed, sir. Somewhere away from the toxin on the sheets.”
Fuck. We moved to the adjoining chamber, and I watched them lay her out in the only bed where she'd belonged from the very start.
Her breaths were coming, slow and steady, an obvious struggle in her chest every time her lungs pumped. My brothers followed us in, but they kept their distance against the wall.
Lev was braver, the first to come over. His hand fell on my shoulder. By some insane miracle, I didn't instantly spin around and break his fucking jaw.
“Patience, brother. We're gonna make sure she's all right. This whole thing has been an epic clusterfuck.”
I turned, shaking off his fingers. “Tell me something I don't already know, asshole.”
“We're sorry. We're gonna make it right. Come on, Anton, you've gotta give us another chance.”
Jackass. I thought it, but I didn't say it, because he was actually trying to help.
My chances for living like a sane man were all flashing before my eyes, spinning and vanishing with every rough breath I watched her take. God damn. Where was that asswipe doctor?
We stayed with her 'til the quack came in. He got to work right away and surprisingly kept his calm, even with all three of our hell hungry eyes on him.
He pierced her in the arm with a syringe. I watched him push some shit into her. The stethoscope came out, and he listened to her chest. Irrational jealousy raged in my veins while I watched him touch her, feel her.
I suppressed a growl. Yeah, it was insane, but fuck it. I never wanted another man's hands on her for any fucking reason. Nobody got to touch what was mine.
The doc stepped away just before I went off like a warhead. He murmured a few words to Grigor, something about needing a sample of the shit making her sick. Good thing there was still a whole fucking bottle of it in the other room.
I watched the doc grab his things and head for the door. My hands flew to my mouth and I screamed, loud enough to echo through the whole house.
“Well? What the fuck? Is she gonna be okay?”
The doctor spun, looked at me, clearly jarred. Good. Fuck him.
“She's stable. If you hadn't gotten it out of her right away, she'd be dead right now. I think she'll be okay – I just need to test the toxin to be sure.” He shrugged. “Patience, please. I'm doing exactly what I was brought here for.”
Arrogant little shit. I saw the recognition flash in his eyes. He certainly knew who I was from all the big stories in the media. Good thing I trusted Grigor to bring us a corruptible, but capable man. He always did, somebody who'd take the green and shut their fucking mouth instead of ratting to the Feds.
I shot my brothers a look that told them we were done. Grigor and his women stepped back to the other side of the room.
I sat down on the empty chair next to her, reached for her hand, and squeezed. She was like ice. I rubbed her fingers in mine, anything to make them warmer.
There was nothing left to do but watch and wait.
My girl stirred softly in her sleep. She wasn't conscious, but the danger had gone. Took me a good long while observing her before I believed the fuck with the stethoscope.
“It's done, brother. The call went out on the streets an hour ago.” Lev leaned down to me while I perched at Sabrina's bedside. “We've got to move fast. You know how fast info travels down this bastard's pipeline and –“
“Let's go. I'll be back in time to see her wake up. That's a promise.”
My knees bent reluctantly. I didn't want to leave her there 'til I saw her eyes shining at me again and I heard her sweet voice. But we'd just put all our fucking chips on the table to flush the rat out.
It was the only way. Daniel leaked a rumor to the media that we were all sick and dying in Chicago, both the notorious Ivankov brothers plus yours truly, target of the biggest manhunt in recent history.
We had to move our asses. The cops would raid all our properties in the city first, looking for a secret penthouse. I hoped that would keep them distracted while we went roaring after our target, the only fuck who needed to hear the reports.
I knew he had. Gioulio Ligiotti would be all over that shit like a bee starved for honey. Hell, he was probably celebrating this second, not giving a shit that there was no word from his niece.
He used her – fucking used her against me.
Little did he know the cannon was pointing his way now, and I'd only offer my woman the final shot. She was never, ever gonna find herself fucked up in the crossfire again, and everybody who'd put her there was about to pay big.
My brothers looked freaked out by the time our black van parked near Gioulio's Chicago estate. Their nerves were fucked, frayed, about to combust. Still, when the war went hot and bullets started flying, I knew I could count on them.
We were synchronized killers. We never let each other down. We never failed – not in any way that would get us killed.
Me? I was all ice. I couldn't imagine fucking this up after the promise I'd made.
No way. No fucking how. Gioulio and his men were gonna pay for decades of blood, plus a monstrous premium for hurting my girl too.
We all had black hoods on our faces. We hunkered in our seats and waited. Soon, we'd be out like hounds, gunning for the house. While we ran, the van was scheduled to plow through the gate, a fierce, noisy diversion to let us inside the mansion with minimal resistance.
The three men crammed in front of us were the best guys we had without Ivankov blood. I had total faith. Brother or not, nobody in this vehicle would let us down and blow the operation.
One more turn. The vehicle wheeled around, and I stood up, got in front of Lev and D, next to the back door. They lined up behind me, ready for the jump. My hands fisted the handles like they were swords, ready to hack through anything and anyone who stood in my way.
Vlad was the first to start screaming from the driver's seat. A good, hearty, very Russian oooraaah roared like thunder from his throat. The van jerked forward faster, making its final run at the gate.
“Now!” I screamed, throwing open the doors.
We threw ourselves out and hit the pavement hard. I saw my brothers right behind me as I stood up. We threw ourselves against the gate and began to climb, heading for good bush cover. A second later, the whole world exploded behind us as the van battered down the gate.
All hell broke loose. Screams in English and Italian rang out while we found our footing, going for a service entrance near Gioulio's garages. The bastard had twelve cars, and right now there'd be no one guarding them while they were pouring out to deal with my guys.
Six dark shapes went flying towards the van. Fuck. My boys were outnumbered, but we knew that from the beginning.
They'd put up a good fight, stall as long as they possibly could, trading fire from inside the van. I estimated we had about ten minutes to get our asses inside and hunt down the kingpin before police choppers and cruisers surrounded this fucking place.
By then, the Ligiotti crew had to be dead or wounded. Our crew in the van needed to be gone, waiting for us in the empty SUV we'd parked behind this place to make our escape.
The garages were near, and crawling with cameras. Whatever. They wouldn't do the fuckers inside much good when they'd spent their manpower fighting my b
oys in the van. I raised my nine millimeter and blinded one of the little black lenses with a bullet. Lights out.
Lev threw himself at the side door to the garages, hurling his boulder-like weight into it. Three good slams and it collapsed. Daniel and I were right behind him, running like hell, heading for the door leading into the house. We had to maneuver our way through all the shit in the huge garage, perfectly polished collectibles and sports cars from Gioulio's younger dick waving days, before he became an old mob boss with a lower profile.
I stuck out my hand and ripped a golden hood ornament off a sleek black shark on wheels – why the fuck not? I whipped it at the ceiling and heard it fall. The gold shape bounced on the concrete loudly as we started working on the door.
The loud, harsh jingle reminded me of bones rattling. I grinned behind my mask. Sweet music, reminding us what we'd come here for – death and judgment, vengeance for my baby girl, payment for every second she suffered in my bed from the poison in her blood.
Shit. This was really it. Do or die time. The blood hissing through my veins turned my whole body into a foundry, ready to melt from the inside out.
It was a relief when we burst inside and the first goon found us.
He fired at me and missed twice. Guess I stunned the fucker charging right at him. It was a stupid thing to do, but I was gonna get a lot more reckless if I didn't feed my bloodlust now.
I tackled the fuck to the ground, grabbed the back of his head like a ripe melon, and slammed him into the staircase over and over again. His forehead was a bloody mess by the time I was done. By then, the servants had inevitably heard us and come running.
“Freeze! You move your fucking asses an inch, you're dead!” Lev roared, flatting two old maids and a wiry butler against the wall with his rifle.
“Radio your friends outside and play stupid. Act like everything's okay in here. The real fight's out there. This doesn't have to end with your blood added to theirs. We're just here to pay your master a friendly visit.” Daniel sounded surprisingly dark and dangerous when he had assholes under his thumb.
Had to be the Ivankov way. Even the smart ones turn into stone cold killers in the thick of it.
I took off while they secured the entrance. Flipped corners like a maniac spy, gun ready to spit death at any assholes who popped out in front of me.
Shit. Nothing. The whole place seemed like it was deserted.
I kicked down the door to every guest room and the big master suite upstairs. Nothing except the neat, tidy luxury rooms I expected a man like Gioulio to have – all empty.
Motherfuck. Panic shot through my chest for the first time. This wasn't the only time the demon managed to slither away before we hit him where he lived, but now the clock was ticking like never before. I couldn't stand here like a dumb fuck and piss away the only chance I'd ever have to win what my girl deserved.
I took off, mentally guessing we had about six minutes left. Flew down the stairs, crashed through my brothers, and grabbed the asshole butler. He shook like a fucking scarecrow in my lock.
“Where the fuck is he? Where!?” I growled it over and over again, dragging him headfirst through the house.
I checked every little twitch in the bastard's face, listened to every note in his voice when he begged for his life. His eyes were bulging, but I wasn't choking him so bad they wouldn't work. The butler just flailed around like any asshole screaming for mercy when I dragged him through the kitchen, the big sitting room, the dining room, and then back to where we'd started. He didn't reveal shit.
Fuck! Where the fuck is he, asshole? Lead me home.
Lev and Daniel looked at me impatiently. They were just as pissed as I was Gioulio hadn't turned up yet, and this latest stunt looked like fucking insanity. I thought I'd lost my mind too until I absentmindedly shoved the human scarecrow against the banister.
He stomped his feet, looking over my shoulder nervously a couple times. What the fuck was back there? I couldn't believe we'd missed the ratty looking wooden door, something narrow and old, straight outta the fifties.
Bingo. I dropped him on the floor and listened to him struggle for breath while I tore open the mystery door. It led down deep, branching off at one level into the house's basement, and then going deeper.
The air was too warm and dry for a boring old wine cellar. The old door popped open with a jerk. Inside, it looked like a total rat hole lined with linoleum and sleek metal filing cabinets.
A shadow moved between them and fired my way. Fuck!
I ducked, rolled on the floor, and returned fire. Some fucker screamed when one bullet found its mark on his calf. I quickly checked to make sure I was in one piece – sometimes when you're shot and hopped up on this much adrenaline, you don't realize it 'til you keel over.
Everything was still in one piece. Perfect. I stayed low to the ground and ran, diving for the legs in the gray trousers when I swept around the corner.
Gioulio got about two more shots off before I beat the gun outta his hands. They both went wild, embedded themselves in the old decrepit wall. Then I nearly did the same to him, slamming him so fucking hard on the old concrete his bones clacked like the hood ornament I'd bounced in the garage.
Our eyes locked. Bastard looked smug as the devil I expected, smiling through the pain from the hole I'd torn in his leg. Nobody ever looked like that when they were well and truly fucked.
Shit. He wasn't alone.
In one movement, I swung him around, using his pale body like a human shield. My gun lined up with the side of his head and I fired, careful not to graze his skull – not just yet. He had a bullet with his name on it for later.
The goon who'd had his gun trained on me dropped. Now, for the first time, the fuckhead in my arms began shaking. We moved, and I flattened him against the filing cabinets, satisfied with the way his spine crunched when I slammed him on the metal.
Fuck. Only about three minutes left, the clock in my head reminded me. We had to make this fast.
Gioulio didn't say a word. His dark, hateful, arrogant eyes said enough. I watched his jaw working, realizing he had one more surprise to take care of.
“Oh, no, motherfucker. No. You. Don't.”
I reached into his wretched mouth and held his jaw open like a dog. He tried to bite my fingers off as I wrestled around for five obscene seconds, pulling the little glass capsule outta his mouth. It rolled on the floor next to my foot and I slammed my heel down on it.
He hadn't bitten into the cyanide, or else he'd be seizing in my arms. Good. The asshole howled, screamed, despair setting in as he realized I'd just slammed his last escape hatch shut.
My fists went to work. I pistol whipped him near the temple for my old man, remembering the way the fucked up hit tore papa up, reliving the night I found his body bloodied and dead.
Three more blows on both sides of his head for the girls he'd enslaved and pimped to those sick motherfuckers. Didn't know how the fuck we'd set them free, but we'd find a way once his crew was in chaos. Daniel and Lev promised me they'd do it.
I didn't know how many women he'd trafficked. Probably dozens. Unfortunately, those three blows had to make do for all of them. Anything more, and his old skull might shatter underneath my fists.
I clenched my gun like a heavy rock, and stopped just short of pounding it right through the top of his head, into his sadistic brain.
Shit, shit. Hold on. Just a little while longer.
I froze my killer instinct, shaking from the effort. The fear in Gioulio's eyes faded as they rolled, went white, and the last resistance in his muscles faded like a balloon losing its helium.
He was out cold. I grabbed him by the neck and dragged him up those stairs, quickly as I could. It wasn't easy. Every muscle in my body strained to haul his ass up. He'd been a muscular man in his younger years, but he'd clearly let it go, packing on fat while his strength faded like a bloated fucking guard dog in retirement.
Soon as I burst through the door, D and Lev were
on me, helping me haul him to the main floor. Daniel aimed his gun at the ceiling and fired a few shots, screaming at the cowering servants. “Go! Get your asses out of here! And don't you think once about calling your boys outside or the goddamned cops.”
The servants took off in all directions, screaming up the stairs and into the kitchen. Who could blame them after they'd spent the last five minutes wondering if it was their last?
Five minutes. Fuck!
Time was running out. My brothers and I hauled ass through the house, heading for the spa and gigantic pool in the back. We saw dark shapes lingering near the hill. My gun was drawn, ready to shoot our way out, even though we'd be fucked if we took any more delays. We were too fucking close.
Then one of the shadows signaled. Smoke seethed out my nostrils.
Vlad and our boys were waiting, right next to the SUV parked conveniently in the back for our escape. They helped us all over the gate. I got in the back with Gioulio, sat on his worthless carcass like a sack of potatoes, and we were off.
Just in time too.
Three police choppers descended on the mansion with their searchlights going the instant we were about a mile away. Soon, the ashes of Gioulio's empire were bathed in cherry red, glacier blue, and blinding white lights, dead and haunted to the authorities as the ruins in ancient Rome.
9
One More Reckoning (Sabrina)
I woke up weak and sweaty. The pain was all gone. Amazingly, inexplicably vanished. I thought I was going to die, and I had to check myself several times to make sure I hadn't.
No ghost would ever feel she'd just survived a direct hit from a freight train.
I floated on a steamy high, thick and hot and invincible, the way you feel after getting over a bad illness. My memory took a few more seconds to follow.
My heart remembered everything that happened, and soon gave me some new pain to chew on.
Jesus. I'd really tried to kill him, hadn't I?