Except they weren’t going to the cops. Not these thugs.
Gerry hunted along the ground for a moment before finding a discarded liquor bottle. He poured the few drops left on the downed man and straightened up. “That’ll do, sure.”
Josh nodded and started jogging toward the goal point. He heard Gerry falling in behind. It was then Josh heard the car.
Both men bolted into the shelter of a building to their right. The motor roared as it came closer, a vehicle on its last legs with a stinky plume of exhaust billowing up behind. It was coming fast and swerving slightly. The driver was in a hurry or under the influence. Or both.
Josh had an extra surge of adrenaline when he realized the car wouldn’t see their mark in time. Two seconds later the tires rolled over the sleeping man, now a human speed bump. The treads thudded over the body, the driver completely unaware it was there, causing the car to hiccup and swerve madly into the line of parked vehicles. The mangled body got caught between rubber and metal, skidding along the pavement, blood and clumps of flesh left in its wake.
The car stopped with a skid, the driver probably wondering what he’d just hit. The door opened and a greasy head popped out, looking down.
Gerry touched Josh’s arm quietly, wanting to get the hell out of there. It was a good idea, but Josh didn’t want movement to attract eyes. A second later, it didn’t matter. The driver, having seen what he’d done, did not choose to do the right thing.
The door creaked closed with a loud metallic bang and the Oldsmobile took off with a mushy squeal of tires. The front tire lurched the car forward. The back tire went up and over its block, which happened to be the skull of the man, crushing it like a melon. A jet wash of blood sprayed up the side of a parked car. Not slowing, the vehicle sped down the street.
Gerry grabbed Josh and took him down an alleyway, around a corner, then down another alleyway in a near sprint before they stopped to catch their breath.
With blood sprayed up along the side of the back tire well, it would be stopped. It wouldn’t take long before it was linked with the death of their mark. It was a clean way to take care of one of their problems.
Josh crouched next to Gerry, wondering if the younger man was going to break down. Technically, they hadn’t killed anyone. However, if Josh thought this kid would freak out and get a case of loose lips, he would need to figure out what to do with him. Josh did not plan to talk to the police tonight.
As if realizing the danger he was in, Gerry straightened up with bright eyes and looked around him. “Well, that was handy.”
Josh allowed himself a smile.
Gerry asked, “You leave any prints?”
Josh held up his gloved hands. Gerry nodded. “Good. Yeah, good thinking. They’ll pin that as a hit and run without even batting an eye. How long will the other man stay out of it?”
“Hard to say. I took his wallet, though. Even if he is found, they won’t be able to run him.”
“He’s at the scene. They’ll pick him up. That’s two men out of the picture.”
“Three. We had the cops pick up a hot dog vendor with an arsenal.”
Gerry looked at Josh closely. “Who are they after? Obviously not you. They’d need pros for that. These guys are rinky-dink.”
“Not me. Jenna and her friend. Don—Chief—pissed off some people. They’re hitting back where it counts.”
“Chief, yeah.” Gerry shook his head. “To hear tell, he’s trying to sort it out. Talking to a load o’people down around here. He helps people, Chief does. Set up a charity for the community—for the kids and single mothers, mostly. Gets big companies to donate. Good guy.”
“He’s not doing us all that much good at the moment, present company excluded.”
“He helps, he doesn’t control.” They got moving at a fast pace, sirens in the distance getting closer all the time. “Your girl knows her way around here. How’s that?”
“Rough childhood.”
“Yeah, me too. Fell in with the wrong crowd. In a bar once, barely fifteen—they let the kids drink if they didn’t cause any hassle—and the door was thrown open. Next thing, this ol’ lad throws me on the ground as someone walked in an’ opened fire. I joined a crowd to fight back—got caught up in it. Moved here to get away.”
“You didn’t get too far away.”
“It’s all I know. This life. I don’t get too involved, just light stuff for money. Like this. Leading a pretty girl and her two boyfriends around town.” Gerry laughed, a carefree sound.
Josh felt bad for the kid. It didn’t sound like he got many breaks. Unlike Josh, who had been handed more than enough of them, and squandered them all.
They made it to the destination, signaled by Gerry pointing to a broken-down house. It was a small, square shack, leaning slightly to the right, with gray paint that had once probably been white peeling and flaking off. Around it were other small hovels, barely enough wood for four walls and a roof.
Before they walked in, Josh turned and put himself out there. “Look, if you want to get out—go somewhere away from this and get a boring job where you can earn a living—I can help. Jenna and I—we can help. Pay you back for helping us. Maybe keep you where we can keep an eye on you, since now you know things I would prefer you didn’t.”
Gerry laughed and looked slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t know. What’d ye have in mind?” Gerry put his hands in his pockets, looking out over the quiet street.
“Jenna is designing a house for a friend. I’m heading the project. It’s in Denver—just outside of Denver, actually. You could learn carpentry or whatever else goes with building a house. I haven’t a clue. The contractor is from Boston. You’d probably get along with him fine if you can handle New Yorkers. It’d be a quiet life compared to here, but there are pretty women, bars, and a city at your disposal. We can get you signed on with a permit, get you legal. Set you up with a place and a car until you can get your own.”
Gerry had turned and was looking at Josh, wariness in his eyes. He was looking for the catch. Josh put up his hands. “Look, I had some shit go down. I know what it’s like to be stuck. I got a handout. I’m just passing it on. If you want, I’ll say it to Jenna. If she likes you, she’ll talk you into it. If she doesn’t”—Josh snorted and looked away—“she’ll tell you so. She’s honest that way, if you don’t trust me.”
Gerry just shrugged. “We’ll see what she’s got to say. No offense, but I can’t trust a guy I just met that doesn’t bat an eye at seeing a man killed.”
“Fair enough.” Josh understood completely. Had it been Scout, Josh would have kept his mouth shut. But this guy was just a kid. A kid like Josh had been once, without the guidance and luck.
They entered the brightly lit house. Jenna looked up and met his eyes. Worry cleared away from her face and intense joy took its place. Her face lit up with a beautiful smile.
She was worth it. Everything he was going through, all the fights and struggles, the power plays—they were all worth it. For that one look, he would do it all again, and again.
“Lucky guy,” Gerry muttered. He’d seen the look, too. “And I get to let her talk me into somethin’.” Gerry smirked as he started forward.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jenna sighed in relief. Something had happened to Josh, she was sure of it by the tightness around his eyes, but he wasn’t worried and he was safe. She thanked all that was holy.
He stepped forward, resting his hand on the back of her neck, and with the other hand put two wallets, two guns, and three knives on the table.
Scout looked up from across the table with a blank look.
“Spoils of war,” Josh said nonchalantly.
“You left them alive, right?” Jenna sputtered before she could control herself. She got an intense look from Josh.
It was Gerry who answered. “Josh there put ’em to sleep for a couple hours. He’s a shadow. Creepy dude.” Gerry laughed.
Gerry didn’t seem too worried about it, w
hich was good news. On second thought, he didn’t seem worried about much.
The four people around the table relaxed. Jax was on her right, her old friend Steve on her left, and Scout opposite her. They’d been that way, waiting semi-patiently, for the last ten minutes. Jenna had gotten what she’d come for, hopes fulfilled, and now she was ready to leave. She felt bad, but she was having a hard time being in Steve’s proximity. The smell of sickness was weakening her resolve.
For the millionth time that night, she got a pang of discomfort when she thought about him. Steve had been diagnosed with cancer at the local clinic two years ago. They hadn’t had the resources to treat him, and told him he needed to seek professional help. He was poor and had no medical cover, so the cancer had gone untreated, raging through his body, eating him alive from the inside out. He was only forty-five, but he looked at least twenty years older. A man on his deathbed.
Even though his life was ending, he kept himself upbeat. He lived off food stamps and government aid. He also got a monthly stipend from a local charity that kept him in painkillers. Still, he had barely more than nothing. It twisted the knife in Jenna’s gut.
She shouldn’t care this much. He had been her supplier, after all. She should hate him. But the thing was, she would’ve done drugs with or without his help. She would’ve found someone else if he’d refused her, and the person she found might’ve sold her bad or dangerous shit, or taken her body as well as money. Steve never did those things. Not once, and he could have, many times. He’d looked after her, in his own way. Given her a place to crash when she’d needed it, stayed away from her physically and kept others away, even if she was offering herself in a chemical high. He prevented her from ever sharing needles and often had someone follow her out if she was barely coherent. If a drug dealer could be said to be a guardian angel, Steve was hers.
When she’d cleaned up her act and wanted to get out, she sent him enough to buy his house outright to both make up for his loss of income, and for what she’d only then realized he’d always done for her. As real estate in this neck of the woods was dirt cheap, she hadn’t even felt a pinch. At the time, she assumed he would spend it on drugs. But he was still in his house. He had no money, but he had charity, government aid, and he still had a place to live. It wasn’t much, but it kept him in good spirits.
“Josh, it’s time to go.” She got up.
Josh nodded at the wallets and weapons. “I figured someone might make use of those. Looks like some serious cash in it. Weapons are probably unmarked. No prints from me. I wash my hands of them.”
“Take the licenses,” Jenna said.
“No.” Josh used a warning voice. The voice that expected obedience.
“Right. Then let’s go,” Jenna amended.
As they were leaving, Jenna looked again at Steve. His eyes were hollow and lifeless. He was waiting to die. They both knew this was the end of their acquaintance. She let the others move away as she said, “Thank you, Steve. You didn’t have to get involved.”
“I remember, Jenna. Your kindness. You’ve kept me off the street. This is the least I could do before I pass. You never belonged here, not in the worst of it, and you still don’t. I remember.”
Jenna blinked, trying to rid her eyes of the tears. Loyalty. She didn’t deserve it, but she’d take it. She had to—she was out of options.
She nodded, a tear escaping her eye.
“Jenna,” Josh said in a firm tone.
Steve nodded to her in farewell and she moved to Josh. Dread stabbed at her as she recognized the emotion previously foreign in Josh’s eyes. Fear.
Something was about to go down, and Josh didn’t know how to embrace it. Which meant it had to do with her. They weren’t out of the jungle yet.
“They know we’re here. Scout got a call. A friend owing him a favor.” Josh blinked, those lush lashes fluttering. He turned to Scout. Jenna tried to ignore the flurry of panic.
Scout looked at her with pity. “They got a contract out on you. The Everson brothers. It isn’t much. Just a sideshow act. Not many want to take it. Stories are that you make people disappear. Plus, you always have eyes on you. No one wants to go to jail for a few grand. But here…” Scout waved his hand toward the front door and beyond, falling silent.
“You go down, everyone scatters,” Gerry said, stepping in to break the news. “It will be an unsolved case, even with your name. No question. No one entertains cops in this neck.”
“And we are deep.” Jenna firmed her resolve. “Okay, no problem. Let’s get out of here alive, huh?” Jenna opened her pack, and handed Josh a gun. His eyes widened in surprise. “I wasn’t just here to ask a favor, Josh. These are untraceable. Actually…” Jenna walked back to the table, grabbed a cloth from the ground, and picked up one of the guns Josh had nabbed earlier. She gave it to Josh, who still had gloves on. She motioned for Jax, who also wore gloves—those guys were prepared—to grab the other.
“Finders keepers,” she heard Scout say.
She stepped close to Josh. It was her turn to take point. “Trust me, okay? Follow me. Don’t ask questions. I know my way back.”
Josh looked down at her. “There are a lot of men around here looking for you, Jenna.”
“It’s dark. They’ll have to get pretty close to know it’s me. If they get close enough, stick your knife in their ribs.”
“I gotta leave you to it,” Scout said. “I can’t be caught up in this.”
“Chief’s not gonna like that, Scout.” Gerry’s voice dripped with disappointment.
“Chief didn’t say nothin’ about a firefight. Sorry, Jenna. I got a daughter.”
Jenna nodded. One less to get in the way. “Gerry? In or out? No hard feelings.”
“Well, your man there said you had something to talk me inta. Figure I hav’ta stay until you do. Talk me into it, that is. With whatever encouraging way you have.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Josh had a grin on his face despite the worry in his eyes. Jenna punched Jax.
“What the hell?” Jax said, rubbing his arm.
“Josh was smiling. All right, I don’t know what you’re saying, Gerry, but we don’t have time. Let’s do this.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jenna led the way out of the house, gun at her side, safety off. It was like old times. This exact exit, gun in hand, had happened more times than she cared to admit. In the old days she hadn’t wanted to get accosted and have her drugs taken. People knew Steve dealt and they would ambush the weaker crowd. Jenna never had that happen—at least, not once she got the gun.
The sky was black, no stars over the bright lights of New York. The street was dark; not many streetlights worked along this forgotten street. They had a long way to go to get to a cab thoroughfare. Better get going.
She took off at a jog, feeling her way, putting her feelers out there, letting her mind go blank and listen to her surroundings. She threaded her way through the buildings. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Only a complete fool would answer.
“Hello?” she heard from behind her.
Jenna whirled, fist connecting with his face before she thought about the repercussions. Gerry barely flinched, but he did react. So did Josh.
Gerry moved to subdue her, hands moving fast—used to fighting. Josh interceded just as quickly, easily organizing Gerry’s limbs so he was painfully pushed toward the ground, his arm up at a weird angle. Precise and painful.
“I give. I give. She punched me,” Gerry said in a hoarse whisper.
“Don’t answer the phone, you moron,” Jenna whispered. “We’re trying for silence here.”
Josh let Gerry straighten up. He rubbed his shoulder, nodded with wide eyes, and stepped closer to Jax after retrieving his phone from the ground. His cloak of invincibility had just had a hole punched through it.
They started out again, everyone silent, turning this way and that. Jenna didn’t see anyone or get nervous until they reached halfway, then she stopped dead. Josh stepped up
to her.
“Bad feeling,” he said.
“Me too. I have a feeling we are walking right into it no matter which way we go.”
Josh looked at her, despair etched across his face. “I can’t lose you, Jenna.”
“Stop talking like an idiot, Josh. The kind of low-end clowns that might be on our trail can barely afford drugs. Even if they recognize us, they’ll have to aim true, and that’s a lot to ask of a guy seeing purple elephants. Plus, I might know a way, but we’ll have to go through a hairy patch.”
“What kind of hairy patch?” Jax asked. He kept glancing at Josh.
“A few homeless. Well, actually, a makeshift town of the buggers.”
“No way,” Gerry said. “Can’t go through dere.”
“What other way?” Jenna asked.
“Let’s go through the busier sections. More witnesses,” Josh said.
“Someone would shoot and run. It’s how drug runners are taken out.” Jenna shook her head.
“You think people are just going to open fire?” Jax asked.
“Nah, no way.” Gerry cleared his throat. “We aren’t headed into an army. The problem is that there are lots of eyes and ears. They’ll see us, and relay the information.”
“Okay, so we just have to keep away from those who are willing to act,” Jax said. “There can’t be all that many people contemplating murder.”
“I don’t think you understand how many people down here have the hook in.” Jenna looked at each of the guys. “They need a fix. They’ll do almost anything to get it if they’ve been without for long enough. And junkies are always desperate. Always. It’s not an army, but it is a mob.”
“Homeless camp is a mob, too,” Gerry said.
“I know, but if we flash big men and weapons, they should let us through.” Jenna was starting to doubt herself. Doubt led to bad things.
Unexpected Guardian (Skyline Trilogy Book 3) Page 22