by Zoey Parker
When Grady was the only one left, Bard came out of the Nest. Grady walked over to him, speaking through clenched teeth. “The coroner will be along soon to collect the bodies. They won't be asking you any questions about them, and the official report will state that these corpses were found elsewhere. The fire and gunshots will be filed as random mayhem, and no charges will be brought against any of your for the illegal weapons you're obviously hoarding and carrying.”
Bard extended his hand. “Thank you so much, Hollis—”
Grady smacked the hand aside. He raised his index finger, furiously jabbing it at Bard's face with every heated word. “Don't. Fucking don't. Just look me in the goddamn eye and tell me that we're square now.”
Bard nodded. “You have my word that we're square. And again, thank you.”
“Fuck your word, and fuck your thank you,” Grady spat. “Get this straight, Bard. If I ever get a call like this from you again, I'll step in and you'll wish I hadn't. I'll do my damndest to ensure that every cop who catches someone wearing a Reaper patch will make them eat it, and then I'll plant enough drugs on them to guaran-fucking-tee a mandatory 50-year stretch. Are we clear?”
“We're clear, Hollis,” Bard agreed evenly.
“That's Deputy Superintendent Grady to you from now on,” Grady said. “Don't forget it.”
Grady stalked back to his car and got behind the wheel, driving away. I turned to Bard and raised my eyebrows. “That was a pretty neat trick.”
Bard took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked like he had a hell of a headache, and I couldn't blame him. “A bit of a one-off, I'm afraid,” he said sadly. “He was my commander in Delta. One night, he was pinned down by a squad of Iraqi soldiers and I saved him. He said that he owed me, and ever since then we've met for drinks a couple of times a year. We kept our history quiet for obvious reasons.”
That made sense. I thought about the trouble the other Reapers would have had with the idea of their leader having regular meetings with the city's top cop, then realized Grady would have had even more explaining to do if his people found out.
“When we both started climbing the ranks in our respective organizations,” Bard continued, “he asked me to swear that I'd never call that favor in if it threatened his career as a cop. He had too many legitimate responsibilities to be beholden to me that way, and he never wanted to be put in the position of risking everything he'd worked so hard for. I understood that and I respected it, so I gave him my word. Today, I broke it.” I could hear how much he hated himself for it.
“You didn't have any choice,” I reassured him. “There was no fucking way we could have explained away those dead bodies. We'd all have been locked up, and Giovanni would have gotten away with what he did to Growler.”
“I know,” Bard said. “And we won't let that happen, Nic. We'll kill Giovanni for what he's done to Growler and the rest of us if it's the last thing we do. We'll make sure no Reaper ever has to live in fear of the Bonaccorsos again.”
Hearing Bard say that made me feel calmer. He'd never sounded so certain of anything since I'd known him, and I had no doubt that he'd see it through.
“The other guys say you hooked up with that girl again,” Bard continued. “The one from Christmas. They say she popped up unexpectedly at the shoot-out last night, and you took her to the West Side Garage. True?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“I need you to think very carefully before you answer this next question, Nic,” Bard said, looking into my eyes. “Do you have any reason to believe Giovanni somehow connected her to you?”
“No,” I said without hesitation. “I don't believe that. It seems like a weird coincidence, but I'm almost positive that's all it is.”
Bard frowned. “You could be right. Still, I want you to get back there and keep an eye on her. If you're wrong, she could be in terrible danger.” He reached into his pocket and produced a set of car keys and a slip of paper. “Here's an address to a lot where I've got a car stashed away. It's just a few blocks from here. Take it to the garage and make sure she's safe.”
I took the keys and the paper. “Thanks, Bard. I really appreciate it. What are you gonna do?”
“I'm going to wait for Giggles to finish working on Growler,” Bard answered. “Then I'm going to see if he can tell us anything that could lead to Giovanni. It's time to finish this once and for all, before they have the chance to do any more damage.”
I read the address on the paper and started walking to the lot where the car was hidden.
Because I was distracted by the thought that Lauren might be in trouble, and by the nervous excitement of tracking Giovanni to his hideout and putting an end to him forever, I didn't see the nerdy-looking man with the bow tie. Looking back on it, I guess he probably followed me from a safe distance of about half a block.
I wish I'd noticed him then, though.
It would have saved us all a lot of blood in the end.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nic
When I got back to the apartment above the garage and opened the door, I called out for Lauren.
No answer.
Fuck.
There was a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs on the counter. A slab of butter was in a frying pan on the stove, but the gas burner under it hadn't been turned on. She wasn't in the living room or the bedroom.
I called her name again, hoping she was just in the bathroom and couldn't hear me. Still, there was no answer.
They came in and grabbed her. I was wrong. I was too stupid to see that the Bonaccorsos had known who she was after all. Tomorrow another package will show up at the doorstep of the Nest, and what will be inside it? Will they start with an ear again? Or will it be her nose, or her lips, or...
Suddenly, I heard a soft whimpering sound coming from the bathroom. I saw that the door was slightly open and pushed it the rest of the way, peering inside.
Lauren was sitting on the floor in her clothes from the previous night. She was clutching her stomach and sobbing quietly. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. I saw a small pool of blood under her and my heart lurched in my chest.
They fucking shot her. They found out she was here somehow and they came in and shot her through the belly, and then they left her to bleed out for me to find.
“Nic...oh God, Nic, please...” she wept, reaching out to me with one hand. The other remained clamped over her stomach, as though she was trying to keep her insides from spilling out.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and frantically dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what's the nature of the emergency?” the bland voice on the other end answered.
“You've gotta send someone!” I yelled hoarsely. “Please, we need help right now! She's been shot!”
“No, no, no, no,” Lauren cried behind me, her voice trailing off into a wail of agony. She was rocking back and forth.
“Sir, I'll send someone immediately,” the operator answered. “What's the address?”
I gave it to her.
“Okay, an ambulance has been dispatched to your location,” the operator said. “In the meantime, I need you to stay as calm as possible and remain on the line with me. I need you to look at the wound and describe it to me, so I can make sure the medical personnel are prepared to treat it when they get there. Can you do that for me, sir?”
“Hang on, I'll try,” I said, lowering the phone.
If she doesn't survive this, Giovanni, you motherfucker, I won't just stop with you. I promise I'll kill your whole family for what you've taken away from me.
I crouched on the floor next to her, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Baby, listen, I know how scared you must be,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “But I need you to pull your hand away from your belly for just a quick second, okay? Please, I need to see how badly you've been hurt.”
Lauren started to shake her head violently. She must be in shock, I thought. I took her
hand in mine and lowered it gently. She resisted at first, then let me do it.
There was no bullet hole. Her torso was completely undamaged, and the only blood seemed to be underneath her. Her words came out between gasps of pain.
“I think I'm losing the baby.”
“Baby?” She's pregnant? What the fuck?
Is it mine?
The operator's voice droned out of the cell phone at my hip. “Sir? How bad is it?”
Pretty bad, lady. Pretty goddamn fucking bad.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lauren
As my consciousness came swimming back to me, I felt white light on my eyelids. For a moment, I thought I might be dead.
That's funny. I survived being attacked by gangsters and shot at twice in one night, only to be somehow bled to death by the life that's growing inside of me. Well, that was some bad planning on your part, kid, because that means you're gone now too. Mom and Dad have lost their daughter and their grandchild, all in one horrible day. They'll be so sad when they find out.
I heard a faint beeping and felt something gripping my index finger. I opened my eyes, squinting them against the harsh fluorescent bulbs lining the ceiling. There was a small plastic clamp on my fingertip. It was attached to a heart rate monitor, which was making the beeping noise.
A hospital. I guess I made it after all, kid.
But did you?
My hand instinctively went to my stomach as though I could feel whether the baby was still there. I heard Nic's voice next to me. “They said the baby is fine.”
I turned to look at Nic. He was straddling a plastic chair backward, his elbows propped up on the back. His face looked haggard and his eyes were filled with fear and anger. I didn't know the details of the war he and the other Reapers had been fighting or what had happened to Growler, but he looked like someone who'd experienced too many severe shocks in too short a time. I knew that I had just given him one more and I felt awful about it.
I wanted to apologize and try to explain myself to him, but under his accusatory glare, I just couldn't find the words. Whatever I said to him, I couldn't possibly convince myself that he would still want to stay with me when I'd kept this secret from him.
Well, good riddance, the prim voice in my head said. You knew he was too dangerous for you to be with anyway. This way, you won't even have to muster the courage to break it off with him. He'll do it for you and your problem will be solved.
Shut up, you miserable hag, the rest of me screamed inwardly. I don't want my problem solved. I want to be with Nic! I want him to say that he understands, and that he'll forgive me and stay to help me raise this baby.
You don't know what you want, the prim voice replied. But if you really think you have a chance of convincing Nic to stay after all this, make your case to him. Go ahead. I can't wait to hear it.
Mercifully, before I could say anything to Nic, Dr. Chadha walked in with a clipboard. “Ms. Sparks. It's a pleasure to see you again, although I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You experienced an inflammation of the cervix due to an infection,” Dr. Chadha answered. “It's a good thing you came in when you did, before it got worse. I know how frightening all of that blood must have looked to you, but everything will be okay now that we've gotten to the infection in time. We're treating it with antibiotics and the baby is perfectly healthy.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling relieved.
Dr. Chadha turned to go, then stopped and looked at Nic. “Are you the father?”
Nic bristled visibly, then nodded. “I guess I am.”
“Well, both Lauren and your child will be just fine, thanks to your quick thinking,” Dr. Chadha said. She turned back to me and smiled. “He's stayed by your side every moment since he brought you in, even when we assured him that you were out of danger. I realize that the nature of your relationship is none of my business, but even so, it seems to me like this one is worth hanging on to.” And with that, she left.
Well, thanks, but that's probably not really up to me anymore, I thought sadly.
“You really stayed with me the whole time?” I asked Nic.
“You bet your ass I did,” he snarled. “I needed to hear it from you personally. Is this baby mine?”
I nodded, blinking back tears.
Nic exhaled and got up from the chair, kicking it aside. He started to pace around the room like a caged tiger.
“You're sure? It couldn't be anyone else's?”
“Yes, Nic, I'm sure. If you feel like you want to get it tested or something after I have it just to make sure, though, I'll understand...”
“You'll understand?” he hissed angrily. I could tell how hard it was for him to stop himself from yelling. “I don't fucking understand. How long have you known about this?”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I just found out two weeks ago.”
“Why the fuck didn't you tell me? You knew where to find me!”
“I didn't know if you'd want to know!” I said, starting to cry. “I didn't know whether you'd hate me for getting pregnant, or if you'd want me to get rid of it, or if you even wanted to see me ever again. I didn't know anything! I was trying to figure out what to do, what would be best for everyone...”
“And you thought what would be best for me would be to keep me in the goddamn dark about having a kid on the way,” Nic sneered. “Great. That's just fuckin' wonderful. And I'll bet that's why you didn't want to use a condom with me last night, right? Because you knew you were already pregnant?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Fuck. Were you ever gonna tell me? Or were you gonna just let me walk around for the rest of my life like some kind of sick joke without knowing I had a kid out there somewhere?”
“I wanted to tell you,” I said, wiping the tears away from my eyes. I knew he was right to be so angry at me and I hated myself for it. “There were so many nights when I thought about going back to the bar and telling you.”
“Then why the fuck didn't you?” Nic demanded.
“Because I was afraid!” I sobbed. “Because the bar you hang out in is called the Devil's Nest, and you and your friends go around carrying guns and calling yourselves War Reapers. Because you're in a gang, Nic. You're involved in God-knows-what with God-knows-who and you all seem so damn proud of it. I didn't know if you'd have room for me in a life like, that and I didn't know if it was even what I wanted, for me or my child.”
“Our child,” Nic answered. “Not yours. These decisions weren't for you to make alone. And I told you before, the Reapers are not a fucking gang. We're a club. There's a difference.”
“You're damn right there is,” I replied, my voice raising. “Clubs are things that normal people with common interests belong to. Clubs are for stamp collectors and sports fans and people who like the same kinds of movies. Clubs don't go to war with other clubs and shoot each other. That's something gangs do, Nic.”
Nic looked taken aback. “No, that's...you're wrong. That's not how it is at all.”
“Really? Then tell me what happened to Growler.”
This sudden change of topic seemed to confuse Nic. “Growler? What do you know about that?”
“He was the bartender the night we met, right?” I asked. “I remembered his name because it was so weird and because he looked so huge and tough. When you got that call last night, it sounded like something bad had happened to him and then you ran off. So what was it?”
Nic's eyes filled with pain and grief. “He got hurt, that's all.”
“How?”
“What fucking difference does it make?” Nic snapped. “You got pregnant and hid it from me and now you want to talk about Growler?”
“Because if Growler could get hurt, Nic, then what about you? What about me? What about our child? Can you blame me for being worried about that? Can you really expect me to just ignore your lifestyle and pretend there's not a good chance tha
t it could end horribly for all of us?”
Nic stood uncertainly for a moment, then pulled the plastic chair back to the bedside and straddled it again. “Okay. Yeah. You've got a point. But still...it's my fucking kid too, y'know? It hurts that you didn't tell me.”