Brant

by D. B. James

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she says as she reaches for my hand closest to her, threading our fingers together, giving me her strength while I tell her everything.

  “One moment; I’m hitting accept on the room charges. I’m a couple clicks away from completing our reservation.”

  “Do you want to take all the bags into the store across the walkway before you start giving me the details?” she asks.

  “Nah, they’re okay at our feet for now. Honestly, I think Mick is still back in Alabama. I doubt he witnessed you leaving yesterday, and he’s not smart enough to track my phone. He probably thinks I’m still in California. I’m guessing we’re okay for now.”

  If he were here, he’d have made his presence known by now. If I were in his shoes, I’d be playing my cards, showing my hand.

  “Hm, I thought he was close since he left the note and all, but maybe you’re right.”

  “I’m banking on me being correct,” I say as I squeeze her hand, reassuring her. “Martinelli is getting arrested tonight.”

  Her gasp of surprise is enough for me to continue.

  “The day I left with Rhys to talk privately, we called Justin together to tell him the only thing I knew that could end this sooner rather than later, the thing I knew without a doubt would keep Martinelli out of our lives forever.” Glancing over, I see her sapphire eyes studying me. “I witnessed him killing four guys in Chicago a while back. I, uh, had video proof.”

  “Had?” she asks.

  “Yeah, had. I turned it over to the FBI when I arrived back in California. The video didn’t have any sound, and I filmed it from the backseat of a car. Justin had me wear another wire to meet with Martinelli one last time, to get proof of him saying he’s killed before. He talked, and then some, including telling me the truth about Vinny’s death. He killed him because he was working with the authorities. He was doing the exact thing I am, and Martinelli killed him for it, his own flesh and blood, his first-born son. He didn’t issue the order, no—he was the one to personally kill him. Do you know how much it hurt me to hear that? To finally have answers as far as Vinny’s concerned?”

  Shaking her head, she silently lets me know she has no idea what I’m feeling.

  “I learned all of this Saturday night. I was minutes away from calling you yesterday when Rhys called me. The reason I didn’t call on Saturday night was because I was drinking my problems away, and I didn’t want you to hear my slurred words. I didn’t need to be there today, but I had planned on it, until you ran. My only reason for wanting to be there was to see the look on his face when the cuffs were slapped on his wrists and the pieces clicked, to see the moment when he realized his other son was the one to take him down.”

  She slides closer to me. Unlinking our hands, she tosses my arm over her shoulder, resting her head on my chest.

  “I’m sorry, Ace,” she says quietly, though she has nothing to be sorry for.

  “Sweetness, don’t be sorry. I’d much rather be here with you than there watching him go down. You make me incredibly happy. You should know that without me having to say it. You do, don’t you?”

  In lieu of answering, she presses a kiss on my chest, near my heart. She’s amazing.

  “Let’s drop these bags off and go do some more shopping, sound good?” I ask.

  “Is that a trick question? Of course the answer is yes, you silly goose.” Lifting her head, she presses another kiss to my skin, this time on my nose. “Race ya there?”

  She doesn’t wait for me to answer before she grabs a couple of bags and sprints from the bench. I love it when she’s childish and free. It’s one of my favorite things about her, her spirit. She may have lived through hell, but he never took this from her.

  Gathering up the leftover bags, I spy a man in dark glasses a few storefronts down. He looks strangely like Mick, too much for my comfort. I take off running into the store, not wanting to leave her unprotected for one second longer. Once inside, I spot her in an instant, near a display of stuffed animals.

  “Ace, look at these—aren’t they the sweetest?” she asks while showing me all the characters from Bambi dressed in winter outfits.

  “Yeah, they’re cute. We need to, uh…” How do I tell her? Blurt it out? If it were me, I’d want the Band-Aid ripped off all at once. “I think I spotted Mick. Don’t panic, but we need to move.”

  “Okay, did he see you?”

  “I don’t think so. He was a few storefronts down. If it was him, he could’ve passed by already. There’s no one at the checkout counter now, so we’ll walk over to it like normal, drop off our packages. You’ll face the cashier, I’ll face the door. If he comes in here, we act then, okay?”

  “Yep, yep, yep. Gotcha.” She’s nervous, and I don’t blame her one bit. Hell, I’m nervous.

  Grabbing her chin with both hands, I place a quick kiss upon her lips. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The packages are dropped off with ease and before we know it, we’re on our way outside, using the side entrance instead of the front where I spied the man I thought was Mick. Things are going decently for the moment. We’re walking briskly down the side street, passing various shops along the way, when I see a sign that says Security.

  “Cherry, we’re stopping there, up ahead to your right,” I inform her.

  “Oh, okay.” Her voice shakes with nerves.

  There are several guards standing near the entrance, but we don’t stop outside. I place my palm on her lower back and lead her inside.

  “Can I help you?” a guard behind the counter asks.

  “I’m hoping you can. My girlfriend is being stalked. Her ex-husband has followed her here. Actually, he’s followed her from California to Michigan, to Alabama, and now here. There’s an APB out for him both here and Alabama, and I believe I just saw him outside a few moments ago.”

  “Dale, can you come inside please?” the guard, still nameless, asks from behind the desk. A tall muscular guy comes strolling in, along with two of the guards who were standing outside with him. “These guests have been followed. There’s an APB out on the guy. I’d like everyone to be on the lookout for him, but I’d like you to accompany them wherever they need to go.”

  Great, we have one of the chipmunks tagging along with us, a slightly beefier one. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself and protecting my girl; I just wanted them to be aware of possible danger to other guests on the property. Shit.

  The unnamed guard turns his attention back to us. “Do you have a picture of this guy?”

  “Oh, I have more than a picture. I have all of his background information,” I reply. “Can we have your name please?”

  “Stanley. Now let’s see what all you have.”

  Unlocking my phone, I hand it over to him. “It’s in the folder titled Mick the Dick.”

  Cherry laughs from my side; I knew she’d like that; it’s what she called him, after all. She has yet to speak a word, and these guards probably think she’s scared of me, too. Placing a finger under her chin, I bring her gaze to mine. “I love you, Cherry,” I whisper.

  “I love you, too, Ace,” she replies. She turns to the chipmunk and proceeds to tell him a bit about her past. “My ex beat me, and he abused me mentally. He’s dangerous. I think all Brant wanted to do was inform you of his presence. I trust my boyfriend to keep me safe. He’s well trained.”

  “We get it, but you came in here for help, and you’re going to get it. An extra set of eyes never hurts. Stanley here will also call Orlando PD since there’s an APB out on the guy. Whether y’all want me to tag along or not, I’m coming. Where were y’all headed?” Dale inquires.

  “We were shopping for our godchild. We didn’t have plans yet for afterward other than going to dinner before retiring to our hotel, but it seems a wrench has been thrown in our plans,” Cherry says.

  He nods in understanding. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Mick. He’s standing outside the office, staring at us, and he’s…laughing? The son of a bitch is
laughing.

  Calmly, I say, “Dale, the asshole is literally right outside. Green shirt, dark sunglasses, laughing. More than likely, he’s armed. The guys outside are obviously closer, but I don’t think we want to risk using the radio to alert them. I’m going to walk out there. Will you keep her safe?”

  “I will absolutely keep her safe, but you’re not going out there. I am. If he’s armed, I’ll taze him and take him down. No one will be hurt, and it’ll be over.” This chipmunk is on drugs if he thinks I’m not going out there. She’s my girl, which means she’s mine to protect.

  “You see, I’m not okay with that. I’m going out there regardless. She’s my responsibility. He’s my problem to take care of. You coming with or staying in here with her?” The other two guards besides Stanley will keep her safe. If Dale wants in on taking him down, he either comes now or he misses out. Without waiting for his answer, I start walking out the door.

  I don’t make it three steps before I hear gunfire.

  TESSA

  “Nooooo!” My cries go unanswered as Brant falls to the ground. I’m not sure if he’s been shot or if he’s taking cover.

  Mick has a gun.

  “If you come with me, Theresa, everyone else will be safe,” Mick says from his spot near the doorway. Every guard has a taser gun pointed at him. Why haven’t they shot him with one already?

  “You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I’ll take my chances and stay here,” I say.

  “Fine by me. I have no problem shooting more innocent bystanders. How about I start with a kid? There are plenty around. I’ll pick one dressed as a princess…yeah, a princess. I’d like to see her little dress stained with blood.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” As the words leave my mouth, I hear another gunshot, this time aimed at me, but I never feel the sting of a bullet. Instead, I feel the sting of tile hitting my face. One of the guards threw his body down on me and is pressing me into the cold tile floor. Thank you.

  The sound of Mick screaming fills my ears. He’s asking for them to stop. I’m praying they taze him repeatedly, ideally in the balls.

  I push on the heavy body on top of me, and when he finally moves, I’m able to breathe for the first time in what feels like an hour.

  Brant. I have to get to him. Was he shot? Is he bleeding? Where is he?

  “Brant!” I scream.

  “Over here, Cherry,” he replies from a few feet away. Blood surrounds him where he lies.

  “You were shot. Are you okay?” The tears are streaming from my eyes, falling down to hit his face. My love was shot because of me—will he ever forgive me?

  “I’m fine, it’s only a flesh wound. It’s bleeding more than it hurts, I promise. I’m not moving because I don’t want to open the wound more. I’m going to be fine, Cherry. I’ll still be able to love you for the rest of my life, I promise.”

  Unable to help myself, nervous laughter erupts from me.

  “I could’ve”—laugh—“lost you.” More laughter continues to roll out of me. Great, now everyone probably thinks I’m a cold-hearted bitch who doesn’t give a shit that her boyfriend was shot.

  “I’d join you in laughing if I didn’t think it’d hurt,” Brant whispers.

  “I love you, and not only because you took a bullet for me. I actually love everything about you—the way you laugh, the way you love me by smothering me in overpriced gifts, the way you love with all of your soul, your huge heart, including your frat-boy mouth and lightweight drinking habits. I love you, Brant Vincent Ashley-Martinelli.”

  “And I love you, Theresa May Annabelle.”

  He passes out after declaring his love, and I’m okay with it, because I know when he wakes up, he’ll be just fine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brant

  If anyone ever tells you the road to love is easy, they’re full of shit. It’s long, riddled with bumps, filled with curves, and has more than one mountain to cross.

  Is it worth it? Hell yes.

  When I awake in the hospital, it’s to Cherry’s smiling face.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.”

  “Morning, beautiful,” I reply. “What time is it?” She said morning after all, which would mean I slept through Monday evening and all throughout the night. How’d the arrests go? Has Justin called?

  “Shortly after 8 a.m. Rhys and Av are here; they’re waiting in the other room. Justin called to tell you how the raid went. He was a little vague on the details with me, but he’ll be on his way here as fast as possible.”

  She’s answered all of my questions without me having to give them voice.

  “Have you left my side to get any rest?” I ask.

  “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

  “Sweetness, you need rest. I’m awake now, so go to the hotel and rest. Take T-Lil with you—our pregnant little mama needs her rest, too.” They both do; we all know Rhys doesn’t want his wife giving birth early due to stress. She has to be uncomfortable sitting around in a hospital waiting room.

  “I will in a while. You lied to me, Ace,” she accuses.

  “I did?”

  “Yep.” Her one-word answer pisses me off.

  “Care to clue me in?”

  “It was more than a flesh wound—he hit your axillary artery. You ended up losing enough blood that you eventually passed out. The bullet was still inside you, and they had to operate to remove it, not to mention the seven bags of blood they had to give you.” Her face starts to go slightly pink, nearly the same shade it turns when she’s flushed with lust or embarrassment. “Don’t look at me all charming and shit. I could’ve lost you.” Turning her head away, she mumbles, “Flesh wound, my ass.”

  “Cherry?”

  “Yeah,” she grumbles.

  “I didn’t lie. I truly believed it was a flesh wound. I’m sorry, my love.” It seems I’ve said those two words a few times over the last couple of days, words that, until recently, weren’t a normal part of my vocabulary.

  “You’re forgiven.” She leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek. “I’m going to let them know you’re awake. Be back in a moment.”

  As she walks out the door, I can’t help but think I’m the luckiest son of a bitch there is.

  Reaching for my phone where I spied it sitting on the nightstand, I tap Justin’s name to call him. It rings three times and goes to voicemail. My impatience wins and I hit dial again, but the same thing happens this time. Instead of hanging up, I leave a short message asking him to call me back pronto. I’m curious to see what all charges were brought against every member they managed to arrest. For me to feel truly at peace, I need to know.

  As I’m setting my phone back on the table, Rhys walks in.

  “Leave to it you to actually get shot. You couldn’t help but one-up me, huh?” Rhys asks, his tone filled with humor.

  “Rhys, stop giving him shit. He could have died,” T Lil says from over his shoulder.

  Tessa makes her way back into the room and takes a careful seat on my bed. Reaching for her hand, I grab it and squeeze, letting her know without words how much I love her.

  “Well…I did bleed a fuckton, but I don’t think I was ever at any real risk of dying, T-Lil. If Rhys wants to sling shit my way, he’s more than welcome to. I may not sling any back though, ’cause my pain meds are making me sleepy.”

  “Nah, I’ll come up with creative names from this for years to come. I’m happy you’re alive and well.” He stops to run his hands over his face in agitation. “Do you want me to fill you in on what Justin told me?”

  “Yes, I’ve tried calling him twice now, rang through to voicemail. Cherry said he didn’t tell her much. Spill it.”

  He walks out of the room but quickly comes back in, this time dragging two chairs along with him.

  “Tiger Lily, sit. Get off your feet and rest, babe.” She does it without a moment’s hesitation.

  Making himself comfy in the other chair, he begins to fill me in on
what he knows, which turns out to be a ton. Justin is supposedly on his way here, but I doubt he’ll arrive any time in the next day or two, as this case is going to take ages to tie up. Hell, it’ll take months, if not years, to get a trial date.

  “Here’s what I know.” He visibly swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple alerting me to how hard he swallowed. He’s nervous, understandably so. “Martinelli was arrested for a whole laundry list of charges. The most serious is five counts of murder one. They seized and closed the Busty Bunny in San Diego and the one in Chicago as they were fronts for his business dealings. A shitload of money was laundered through those two businesses, but they’re working on seizing eight more. He’s also facing charges of supplying both cities with heroin, cocaine, and crystal meth. The drugs were sold primarily out of the Busty Bunny locations, not to mention those two businesses were also running a prostitution ring. Busty Bunny was a win all on its own.”

  He stops for a moment to let it all sink in.

  Holy. Shit.

  With my help, the FBI has taken down one of the most wanted mafia families in the United States.

  “I’m repeating to make sure I heard it all: murder, racketeering, prostitution, drugs, and money laundering, correct?”

  “Don’t forget what Justin told me: trafficking. He was stealing women and girls and selling them to the highest bidders as sex slaves,” Tessa informs the room.

  “Motherfucker,” Rhys says. “Tess, I didn’t hear about the trafficking. I must’ve been drifting off to sleep. Shit, I’m glad this monster has been arrested.”

  “It’s a damn good thing he was. There’s no way I was going to let him near my Cherry girl, not for a twisted family dinner, and certainly not for anything else.” A yawn escapes, and I realize how tired I am.

  “I’m going to go get the rest you told me to, and it seems like you need some yourself, Ace. I’ll take these two with me since there’s plenty of room at our hotel. I love you, see you in a few hours.” She bends down and kisses me on the cheek.