Shake Down

by Chandler, Jade

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  JoJo

  “You sure this is what you want?” Zero showed me the artwork.

  He’d drawn a police shield that said protect and serve. Barbed wire broke it in two and snaked through it. It represented so much, but most of all it reminded me that I wasn’t good enough. Not for the Marines, not for Charlie, not for my family. Yet I couldn’t give up my mission, so I’d keep hunting criminals in my own way, and forget the rest.

  “That’s righteous. Do it.” I leaned back in the barber chair while Zero positioned my biceps.

  “You wanna talk about it?” He put the needle to my skin.

  It pinched but it wasn’t real pain. Real pain was losing Laney, and now Charlie. That shit hurt.

  “I don’t.” I wished I could shut my brain as easy as my mouth. She haunted my thoughts, hiding just out of sight, ready to spring up any second my brain was idle. Like now.

  “What did you think of Charlie?” Better to talk than to think.

  “She was cool, and sexy. Sucks it didn’t work out.” Zero stayed focus on the artwork. “What went wrong?”

  “Not good enough.” That was always the problem.

  “Then fuck her, you’re the best.” Zero stopped the gun. “You get that, right? You risked your life for her, protected her. She saw deep in you and walked away. That’s not on you.”

  “How do you know?”

  The kid scowled at me. “I see you, and you are one of the best. She walked because of her hang-ups, that’s not on you.” Zero put the needle back on my skin. “Hard to find someone whose hang-ups don’t clash with your own.”

  I hadn’t thought about it like that. I knew my shit only too well, lived it in my nightmares, no way to forget.

  She had her own demons—the dead ex, her family, and the burden of meeting all those expectations. So maybe it wasn’t about me exactly, but if she really loved me, she’d have stuck. The silence had been the worst. I had said I love you to one other woman in my life—my mother. I’d had lots of girlfriends but had been too afraid to ever make the commitment. The one time I do, and silence.

  “You don’t seem like the deep type.” I needed to distract myself.

  Zero snorted. “You don’t seem the stupid type, yet you fell for her. Me, I’m not falling ever.”

  “Never say never, man.”

  “I said ever.” He shot me a cocky grin. “I hear Lyle’s taking over the prospects. Have to say I’m glad Delta’s done with them. Shit, the guy can complain.”

  That was Delta. “One of the things he picked up in the Marines. A squeaky wheel gets different duty.” I grinned. “He’s already headed to Vegas, making up for lost time.”

  “You were good with the recruits. Why did you give it up?”

  “I’m no nanny—it gets old, fast. And now they won’t be able to keep up with me.”

  “So you’re going to work her out of your system? That sounds...normal. Fighting, drinking, fucking up your life—that’s what we do when we got woman trouble.” Zero laughed.

  “What do you do when you got woman trouble?”

  “Only trouble I have is when I don’t have a willing woman in my bed. I don’t keep ’em long enough for any other kind of trouble.”

  “That won’t work for me, either.” I had no desire for another woman.

  “Now that’s a real shame. Probably why I hang with Delta more than you.”

  We bullshitted until the piece was done, then I drove an SUV to the city, although I’d rather be on my bike. I had four bounties to track down, and then I’d see what else Rebel had rounded up for me. Harry Horseman was first on the list, a petty thief who’d skipped bail on us, so the $25,000 would all come home to Brotherhood Bonds. I headed for the bar that was like his second home. I parked in front of Mike’s Place and double-checked the photo on my phone. I shoved the phone back in my pocket and walked in the front door. A dingy place with an L-shaped bar. My guy was right in front of me, his back to the door. Harry had no survival instincts, probably as pickled as his liver.

  I took the seat next to Harry and studied him—no sign of a gun bulge. No reason to wait. I grabbed the scruff of Harry’s jacket and shoved forward—his face bounced off the wooden bar top just as the bartender approached me.

  The bartender grabbed under the counter and came out with a bat. “Get back.”

  “Bail enforcement, Harry’s coming with me.” I pulled the dazed man out of the bar and threw him in the back of the SUV, not bothering with restraints.

  At the detention center, I turned him over to Sully, the desk sergeant.

  “Back at it.” Sully rubbed his mostly bald head. “Solid move protecting Pine. None of us will forget.”

  “Well, I’m trying to.” I headed back to the office, where I’d get the bail paperwork for the payout.

  Sully stared after me but I didn’t care. I wasn’t leaving Oklahoma City because of Charlie, but that didn’t mean I was gossiping with every cop I met.

  I headed out, ready for my next capture. George Vennerette had skipped on an attempted murder charge I checked at the flophouse where he’d been staying—no luck. The skip tracer had identified three places where he liked to hang out. One thing that amazed me, criminals rarely left town when they skipped bail. The familiar outweighed survival, so they just picked a new address and hoped no one looked too hard. Georgie was in for a bad bit of luck. I planned to have him before morning.

  I hit the first bar but he wasn’t there. I struck out at the second one, so I hoped he was at the third or I was out of luck until he returned to the flophouse.

  The third bar was a hole in the wall in a questionable part of town, closer to his regular address rather than the flophouse. I walked into the bar but could see little between the bad lighting and smoke hanging in the air. A band played Southern rock in one corner. People crowded onto a tiny dance floor.

  My one time dancing with Charlie had been sweet. Her body fit mine just right, then everything had gone to shit. I muscled my way through the crowd and pushed up to the bar. “Looking for Georgie.” I handed the bartender a twenty.

  “Just missed him. Left with his cousin and two hot gals.” The guy winked at me. “He’ll be back tomorrow. Can I pass on a word?”

  “Nah, I’ll find him, I know all his cousins,” I bluffed. “Join in that party.”

  I left and headed for the flop, settling in to wait for him to return. Sometime in the night I fell asleep, but voices woke me up. I blinked at the bright light of morning and scowled at the two bums arguing by my passenger-side door. I should be grateful since they woke me up, hopefully I hadn’t missed him again.

  I stretched in the seat and tried to pop my neck, but the pain persisted. A rusted old Ford truck stopped in front of Georgie’s place. Maybe my luck was improving. Of course that was relative—having Charlie back, that was the only luck that counted.

  I watched him stumble inside and gave it another five minutes for him to get to his room. I knew it was number 4 on the second floor. I bypassed the front desk and headed for the side staircase. In front of his door, I pulled my Glock and stepped to the side before reaching out to knock—more than one criminal had met a knock at the door with a gunshot.

  Indistinct grumbling came from the other side before the door swung open. Stupid move. He caught sight of me and tried to slam it shut, I got my arm inside but the door still cracked against it. Son of a bitch, that stung. He slammed it again and my hand spasmed and the gun dropped to the ground.

  The cockroach tried to grab for my gun but I was inside and kicked the fucker in the chest. He sprawled back on the floor. I bent and lifted him by his collar before punching him again in the gut. The idiot spewed and I had to jump back fast to keep the splatter from reaching me. Disgusting.

  Fury pulsed in time with the pain in my arm. I forced my fingers to f
lex and my arm to rotate—not broken. That was something.

  “Get your ass up and let’s go.”

  “I’m hurt bad.”

  I glared down at the sobering Georgie. “You will be if you don’t get your ass up and out that door. You get me?”

  “Got it.” He grunted and made it to his feet.

  “You want a new shirt?” I looked at the vomit-covered T-shirt.

  He drew it over his head and pulled on another from the floor. It didn’t look clean but was better than the last one. At least now he wouldn’t stink up my ride.

  I hauled him out of the flophouse and into the SUV. He started whining again so I put up the window between us. He’s lucky I didn’t beat him unconscious. Anger still ruled me as I glanced at my swelling arm—motherfucker deserved a beating.

  Since Charlie sent me packing, my anger had been a constant companion boiling right under my skin, ready to erupt. I hoped the constant work would dull the anger and help mend the hole where my heart used to be.

  I was so screwed. She’d ruined everything for me. Even the club was tarnished, and that only pissed me off more. Seeing Mama, Rebel, Dare, Elle and the other couples reminded me of what I’d lost. Even Delta reminded me of my screwup, leaving her to witness the craziness of a Brotherhood party. The most fucked up part of it all was that I wasn’t into that scene, at all. I’d never done work for Bear or Viper nor participated in the sexcapades that often defined our parties.

  Not that I cared what the others liked, but it pissed me off it was one more reason Charlie had run from what we could’ve had together. So that left work and more work. Eventually the anger would mellow and I’d find some kind of balance again. For me the Brotherhood was about family, the only family that had accepted me without question. Unlike Charlie, but I still craved her worse than a junkie past due for his needle.

  Too bad oblivion wasn’t on the menu.

  I pulled into the detention center. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too busy on a Thursday, and I could get out quickly. Charlie had been back to work for four days, and I wondered if she missed me at all. Probably not. I was just a brief walk on the wild side. I mean she hadn’t even bothered to make excuses. Her silence had sliced deep.

  I secured Georgie with plastic restraints and marched him inside. Luck wasn’t with me because there was a line—two bail enforcers ahead of me. I cooled my heels in one of the bolted-down chairs and tried not to think.

  As if my thoughts conjured her, she strode through the detention center door, making a beeline straight for the desk sergeant. I ducked down, then straightened up. Fuck that shit. I didn’t hide from anyone. She was buzzed back and disappeared from view. So far so good.

  Another twenty minutes then it was my turn. I signed the paperwork and took the voucher showing I’d captured Georgie. Now to get out of here. I walked out of the office and straight into Charlie.

  Fuck me. That was the last thing I wanted.

  “Hey, Joe, you look good.” Charlie gave me a hesitant grin.

  That hit me square in the gut—the pain would’ve doubled over a lesser man—but I wasn’t about to show her how deep she’d wounded me.

  “Yeah. Gotta go, bad guys to catch.” I hurried out of the secured area and the building, running from the woman I loved.

  Her bright blue eyes and pink lips had tempted me. I’d wanted to snatch her up and kiss her until she admitted she loved me, but I had no reason to think that’d ever happen.

  Weak. I was weak, but I’d get stronger. I’d been going to hit another mid-level guy, but I needed the adrenaline rush of a heavy hitter. That meant it was time to hunt Gregor Velachek, who’d gotten bail for money laundering then disappeared. Everyone thought that meant dead, but we’d gotten intel that he was hiding in Oklahoma City. He was wanted in Vegas but since it was a federal case, I could turn him in anywhere. Elle told me not to take him down alone, but Delta was out of town and I wasn’t in a team kind of mood.

  I drove by the duplex where he was supposed to be staying. Two black Escalades were parked in the driveway—good sign. I parked the next block down and wished I had a dog to walk, it’d make me fit in better. I stripped off my cut, and figured that would have to be good enough. I opened the car door and then leaned back in to open the glove box and pull out the stunner Charlie had used. It might come in handy, a lot quieter than a gun, although not as satisfying as my fists.

  I shouldn’t need either right now. This was just recon and if I was lucky I’d get a tracker on both vehicles. I walked down the block and managed to get one on the rear SUV, but the one in front of it, no way. Eyes were watching the street from the duplex where Gregor was supposed to be staying. I took what I could get and headed back to the SUV.

  After a meal at a diner, I parked a couple blocks away to wait. My tracker only worked within a mile of the target, and I didn’t feel like finding another motel room. I was becoming best friends with this damn SUV.

  Hours ticked by as I napped, played stupid games on my phone and blared music. Anything to keep me from thinking, and mostly it failed. No matter how many times I replayed the end of our relationship, it changed nothing. My what-ifs didn’t matter and I was done beating myself up. If only...

  My app beeped as the SUV moved. It was eight at night, where could they be going?

  I’d positioned myself by the primary exit of the development, hoping to get a look at the vehicle as it left. My plan worked—the black Escalade passed me, only a driver. I watched the beep head to the interstate. Interesting.

  Maybe I should move now, since my intel said two guards and Velachek, now only one guard. I stuffed another tracker in my pocket for the second SUV. This way if the mission went sideways, I’d still have surveillance in place. Armed with two clips, my gun, plastic cuffs and the stunner, I headed down the street to the duplex. Twilight was almost full dark as I approached. I walked past the window—now the curtain was closed—and moved to the side of the vehicle, placing the tracker.

  I used the Escalade to block the duplex’s view of me, then went up the half flight of stairs. House quiet. A second passed while I debated knocking. Deciding on surprise, I stood and kicked the spot right by the knob—the cheap door crashed inside.

  Yelling and shouts sounded as I rushed in and found myself exposed in an empty living room. Shots fired, I dove for the ground and scampered through the room to the stairs, hiding in the stairwell. The shots had come from the dining room and kitchen combo on the other side of this wall.

  I couldn’t stay here or they’d escape out the back or a window. I should have done recon behind the place to see what additional exits there were. Stupid. This whole plan was shit-for-brains stupid.

  Two choices—rush out the door and lose them or go in guns blazing. I picked option two—I wanted the 200 grand reward.

  Silence said they were still, maybe trapped, or moving quietly, like me. I crept to the stairs and looked around the corner. I didn’t see anyone around the corner, so I kept going, crouched over in a weird walk I’d learned in the military—efficient with fewer arteries exposed.

  I whipped around the corner and spotted the surprised guard and Gregor. The guard flung his gun around and fired, not even trying to aim. I got him in the leg. He crashed to the floor, dragging Gregor down with him. I moved in and kicked the gun from the guard before smacking him in the head with the butt of my gun. He was down and out. I glanced at the leg, not bleeding fast so he’d live.

  “Bail enforcement, you’re coming with me.” I reached for Gregor and the rat turned to me and fired. I staggered back as a slug hit me in the shoulder. The fucker had shot me. I yelled as rage took over. I lunged forward, knocking the small caliber gun from his hand, then punched him once, twice. He was out, but I hit him one more time for good measure. He’d shot me. I considered shocking him for the hell of it, but he was out and wouldn’t feel the jolt. I’d wait until he wok
e up.

  I checked my shoulder—it’d gone through my pec, right under my collar bone. Blood wet my shirt, but no bleeders were hit. I saw the hole the bullet had exited, so that was good. Of course it was my right shoulder, the same arm Georgie had tried to break this morning. I wouldn’t be able to use my shoulder or arm for a while. Of course it was my dominant hand.

  After securing both scumbags with cuffs, I sat in the corner with the best view of the living room and door beyond, then pulled out my phone and fumbled to dial 911.

  “911. What’s your emergency?”

  “I’ve been shot. I’m a bail enforcement officer with a federal prisoner. Another man is shot in the thigh.”

  “Where are you?

  “Wherever my phone says I am.” I panted. My arm hurt and the pain seemed to grow with every breath. Dark spots appeared in my vision.

  I stared down to see blood covering a good bit of my shirt. I’d been wrong before. “Hurry, it’s a bleeder.”

  The next thing I remember is pain shooting through me from my shoulder to my fucking toes. I blinked to see two EMTs kneeling over me.

  “About damn time. Gregor’s mine, you hear me?”

  “Of course. Can you tell me your name?” The female EMT flashed a light in my eyes.

  “Joe Marcone, Brotherhood Bonds.”

  “We’re going to lift you to the gurney, be ready on—”

  “I can get there on my own.” I pushed myself up the wall despite the screaming pain searing my shoulder. I wobbled on my feet but made it to the stretcher and plopped down, lying back with a hiss of pain. “Let’s get going before I bleed to death.” I glared at the two gaping EMTs.

  Danvers rushed into the room. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I growled. “Velachek’s my bounty.”

  The EMTs were rolling me away. “Yeah, I know. You told the 911 operator twice. What’s his condition?”

  “Stable but we think there’s a nicked artery in there, he’ll need sewn up.” They pushed me through the living room, then carried me down the steps.