Daddy’s real name was Louis, but when he first started out, he was pulling double shifts. One as a trooper, and another as a prison guard at Huntsville State Penitentiary.
When he was on duty at Huntsville, an inmate made a shank out of a toothbrush, sharpening the end into a lethal point.
Then made an arrow out of it, wrapping wet newspaper and who knew what else into it, honing it into a lethal weapon.
Then, as my father passed by one night, the prisoner had used the elastic from his shorts, tied it to the bars, and then launched the arrow at my father.
It hit my father in the throat barely missing his carotid artery by a scant millimeters.
Daddy had gotten that taken care of at the infirmary, and then finished his job.
Only when he was done at work did he go to see his doctor, who told him he was a very lucky man, and that as long as he kept the wound clean, he could return to work.
Although painful, it was nothing but a minor wound that could’ve been deadly.
So he went about working, never letting that phase him.
The nickname stuck, and Uncle Darren was forever going to be remembered as Shank’s little brother, no matter what his accolades were.
“Was that Shank Rhodes?” Gabe whispered loudly. “You’re related to Shank Rhodes?”
I blinked, turning to look at Gabe. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh, fuck,” Max and Foster said at the same time.
I really started to get confused then.
“What?” I asked, voice rising.
Which caught the attention of Gabe’s wife, Ember, who’d been speaking with an ER nurse. She walked up and wrapped her arms around Gabe from behind, poking her eyes out to see around his large arm.
Gabe wrapped his good arm around Ember’s back, holding her close as he said, “Somebody just shot up Shank’s kid’s house. Oh, my fucking God.”
Foster’s eyes widened, and he wrapped his arm around me.
“Mother fucker,” he breathed.
Ember, who’d stayed silent since she’d arrived, stared at me, taking in Foster’s arm placement, and then held out her hand to me.
“My name’s Ember, it’s nice to meet you,” Ember said pleasantly.
I took her hand, and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, too. My name’s Blake Rhodes.”
“You’re Officer Shank’s kid?” She asked, eyes widening slightly.
I threw my hands up in annoyance. “What’s the big fucking deal with that?”
They all started talking at once, as if they were all little kids scared of the big bad school yard bully.
“He’s a badass.”
“You do not mess with The Shank.”
“The Shank is a fucking legend.”
“I heard about him while I was in Las Vegas.”
I just shook my head. “So should I ask him about this, or are you all going to give me the details that I need to make an informed decision?”
They stayed silent.
Obviously they’d rather stay silent.
Perfect.
Chapter 12
9 out of 10 children get their awesomeness from their father.
-Proven fact
Foster
“Look at her fucking house,” Luke said, shaking his head in flabbergasted silence.
It was bad.
Really bad.
The entire house was ruined.
The front wall of the house, where the brick had once been, was nothing more than a mess of rubble.
In some places, you could see through the walls in a three feet wide mass.
“Dude, you’re dating Shank’s daughter?” Downy yelled, announcing his arrival with that big mouth of his.
I turned, catching my good foot on a stray brick, and tripped.
“Fuck,” I said, catching myself.
“Hey, that was pretty cool,” Downy said, looking down at my ‘blade.’
I found that I liked it.
It didn’t look remotely like a foot, like the other one did, but it was more functional…at least for me.
Everyone knew I was an amputee, anyway, so what was the point of hiding that fact?
“Yeah,” I said, bouncing lightly on the blade. “It’s pretty cool. As for doing anything with The Shank’s daughter, I won’t be speaking to you, or anyone, about that.”
“Good,” a dark, menacing voice said from behind me.
I turned to see Officer Shank, himself, inspecting the lot of us.
Gabe and Max were still with us, and they’d been joined by the rest of the SWAT team: Downy, Luke, Nico, Bennett, Michael, Miller, John, and James.
When something happened to one, something happened to all. And, although I hadn’t started anything ‘official’ with Blake, they knew she was mine.
Just as much as Shank knew it, too. That’d been why he invited me to dinner.
Downy, who’d been the one to make the comment about Blake, blushed.
Fucking blushed.
Downy was a talker. He never knew when to shut up, but anyone with any sense at all knew better than to talk shit about The Shank. Even Downy.
“Sir,” I said, offering my hand.
He shook it, then surprised me by pulling me into a hug.
“I know you weren’t here, but you put into motion having them here. If you ever, and I mean ever, need anything, call me. I’ll be there. You saved my girl’s life,” he said lowly, just loud enough for me, and me only, to hear. “Oh, and call me Lou. That Shank shit is getting old.”
I swallowed and slapped him on the back before he let me go.
I was actually a little choked up.
Getting a favor owed to The Shank, Lou, was big. Fucking monumental.
“You can all come to dinner,” Lou said before he nodded at us, and then walked down the street.
“Holy fucking shit,” Downy breathed.
I raised my brow at them. “I’m man-crushing.”
They all snorted. Every last one of them.
“And you’re dating his daughter. If you ever fuck up, you’re dead,” Miller announced.
That wasn’t something that hadn’t crossed my mind. More than once, in fact.
It was bad enough that she was the Chief of Police’s niece. Now she had to be The Shank’s daughter, too.
Knowing Blake’s father was The Shank wouldn’t change my mind about Blake though.
“Do you know that he has the record for the most drug related arrests in the state?” Luke asked the group as a whole.
“He also has the most weapon draws,” I countered.
“The most officer involved shootings,” Max rumbled.
I winced.
“The most…”
I ignored the rest of the comments, going off to walk around the rest of the house.
Once I got my fill of the outside, I walked inside, taking in the destruction.
The bullets had torn through the first two walls.
There were even some in the kitchen.
My mind struck on the spilled red nail polish on the coffee table.
Bullets riddled the floor, couch, and area surrounding the couch.
Red nail polish was spilled carelessly all over the floor, the bright red sight making bile rise in my throat.
That very well could’ve been her blood.
She could’ve died.
She would’ve died had Max and Gabe not been there.
“Did you get the plate numbers?” I asked Gabe.
I’d heard him come in behind me, taking in the destruction alongside me.
“Yeah, the plates were stolen. I have Jack doing what he can from the computer end, though,” Gabe said powerlessly.
Jack was another member of Free, and a computer wizard.
He was extremely smart, and from what I’d heard, his wife was even smarter.
The two of them together were a fucking wet dream in the hacker world.
And it made me happy to know they were on my side for this.
> “Thank you,” I replied just as softly.
“There were two of them. That I know,” Gabe offered.
I nodded my head. “I should’ve gotten you out here the day before yesterday. Goddammit, then we would’ve had cameras up.”
“No,” my brother said from the doorway. “Then you would’ve just had a dead Blake. Sure, you would’ve known, maybe, who it was, but you wouldn’t have any reason to know anymore, other than vengeance.”
My older brother and his fucking logic sometimes made a lot of sense.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Not sure there’s any reason to put cameras up anymore. But we’re going to anyway. And I need Mercy’s men to come out and start working on her house.”
Miller nodded. “Mercy’s already started on it.”
Did I say I really loved my sister in law?
“Thanks,” I said, continuing to walk through the room over to the area where Max had taken her during the shooting.
I blinked in surprise when I saw the millions of freakin’ books lining the walls.
There had to be at least a small fortune’s worth.
“So, she’s a reader?” Miller asked, picking up a book that’d fallen from its shelf.
I took the book from him, smiling when I saw a highlander on the cover wearing nothing but a kilt.
“Looks like it,” I said. “Nothing better to do but fantasize, I suppose. Collect books of all the men she wished her ex-husband would’ve been.”
“Speaking of ex,” Michael said from the doorway. “He’s here.”
I liked Michael, although I didn’t know him as well as the others.
I’d been on the SWAT team for a little over two years now, and I felt like I knew just about as much about him now as I had when I first started working with him.
I knew he’d have my back if I needed help, but aside from our work relationship, I didn’t know much more about him.
I was fairly sure, though, that the tattoos covering his body told some sort of story.
They fairly had to with the sheer amount of them he had.
“Thanks,” I said, patting his shoulder as I passed him.
He grunted.
I found David on the front lawn, studying the destruction.
“’Sup?” I muttered.
I didn’t really care for David before, but now I really didn’t care for him.
He was an ass, and to know he treated Blake like shit only accentuated the fact that he was a douchebag.
“I wanted to come over here and offer Blake a place to stay, but the tattooed one said she wasn’t here,” David said, eyes roaming the pile of rubble.
I snorted. “With who? Your new woman? Or other woman?”
He glared. “Yeah, what’s it to you?”
I smiled. “I’m sure she’d rather have died in the drive-by today than stay at that house with you and the woman you cheated on her with. I’ll be sure to mention it later, when she’s at my place, that you offered, though.”
He started forward, but stopped himself with only a step in my direction. “You need to stay away from her.”
I raised a brow at him, giving him a mocking smile. “Oh yeah? And who are you to question me?”
He raised his lip in a snarl. “You’re nothing but a washed up gimp who can’t fucking do anything, but gets special treatment because he was one of the select few on the SWAT team. You’re only on there still because they can’t legally fire you.”
I heard a snort behind me, but didn’t turn around.
“Is that what you think?” I asked slowly.
He shrugged. “I don’t think. I know.”
“You think you can get onto the SWAT team? Do what we do?” I taunted him.
“I fucking know I can. I just have a wife at home to worry about,” he shot back.
I laughed then.
“A wife that you cheated on your original wife with?” Blake hissed. “You’re such a crock of shit. Should I tell them that you wear a fucking girdle under your uniform to hold your gut in?”
I turned to see her walking down the street towards us.
I’d missed her. Even that sneer that was currently directed at her ex.
She’d said that she was going to come by, but I’d expected her to drive, not walk.
Apparently, I needed to pay a little more attention and explain to her that she couldn’t be doing that anymore.
I didn’t want her to be out running without protection of some kind. Hell, right now she didn’t need to be out, period.
“Get the fuck away from my house, David,” she snapped.
“I paid for that house!” David growled.
“Yeah, you did, didn’t you? But you know what? So did I. Remember when we got married and you said what’s yours was mine? Well, there you go. I deserved the fucking money to buy this house. And I also deserve the settlement I got,” she spat. “Get the fuck over it.”
“Well, it’s only for another six months. Hope you have your shit in order, because after that day, you won’t be getting another fucking dime from me,” he yelled before turning on his heel and stomping back to his truck.
“I freakin’ hate that man,” she growled as she watched him walk away.
I turned to her, pulling her into my arms. “I do, too.”
She smiled, leaning her head back to look at me. “That made me totally hot, seeing you taunting him.”
I grinned. “How hot?”
She blinked, all signs of teasing gone. “Hot enough that if we were alone right now, I’d show you.”
“Hot damn,” Downy yelled. “I need to get home to my wife! See y’all at dinner!”
Blake’s face flushed as she watched Downy walk away.
“That was embarrassing,” she admitted, burying her face into my shoulder.
I laughed, but something silver caught my eye as Downy pulled his car away.
A woman sat in her car across the street.
She’d been hidden by Downy’s huge truck, but now that he was gone, I could clearly see her sitting there.
She stared right at me for long seconds before she, too, started her car and drove away.
“What?” Blake asked, startling me.
I memorized the license plate number, before replying. “Nothing. It was nothing. And don’t let Downy embarrass you. He’s got a mouth, but he won’t make a big deal of anything that goes on between us.”
She smiled, looking relieved, and said, “Good.”
“Now,” I said, leading her to my truck. “About being alone…”
Chapter 13
Everyone loves my cooking. Even the smoke alarm cheers me on.
-Kitchen sign
Blake
“Are you sure you want me to stay here?” I asked, looking around at the apartment.
“I haven’t stayed here in weeks since this,” Foster said, gesturing to his leg. “But it’s got clean sheets, thanks to Mercy. And I’m going to stay here with you until we figure out why you have people breaking into, and shooting up, your house,” Foster replied as he dropped his keys onto the coffee table.
“Has it been empty?” I asked, looking around at the ultimate bachelor pad.
There wasn’t much to it. From what I could see, there were two bedrooms. One was empty but for a bed and a dresser, the other was empty but for a bed.
The living room was much the same, only sporting an older TV, two couches that looked to be purchased from a yard sale, and a table in between the kitchen and the living room, sans chairs.
“Is there anything you need or want from the house…something you can’t live without?” Foster asked. “They’ll have your front wall replaced by the end of the week, and the rest fixed in no more than three weeks. It shouldn’t take you long to get back there…if that’s what you want.”
I opened my mouth, hesitant to say it. “Umm, it’s heavy.”
“What is?” he asked, dropping his arm full of bags onto the table and turning back to me.
I worke
d my lip between my teeth, finally deciding to just say it.
“My pottery wheel.”
He blinked. “Pottery wheel?”
I nodded. “Yeah, my pottery wheel. I dug it out of storage when I left David, and well…I like it. It helps me sleep.”
“Is this like one of those things that you can make big mounds of dirt into a bowl?” He asked, eyebrows drawing down in concentration.
I nodded. “Clay. But yes, one and the same.”
“Isn’t something like that dirty?” He asked, walking into the kitchen and pulling a beer from the fridge.
The house was completely empty but for beer in the fridge. Now that was the ultimate bachelor pad.
“It can be dirty, yes. But I have plastic underneath the one in my house. I just mop the floor when I’m done,” I said. “My kiln is outside my house. I won’t need to use that until I have about ten pots ready to fire, so I don’t need it here.”
He nodded. “Where would be best for you to set it up?”
I went into the bedrooms.
Noticing that the spare bedroom didn’t have a bathroom I said, “I can do it in that room, it’d just be easier if I had it near a water source.”
He nodded. “How big is it?”
I held my hands as wide as I could get them. “This wide.”
He shook his head. “I’ll measure it. We’ll figure it out. Sounds to me like it’d be easier to just do it right here.”
He pointed to the corner of the living room, which happened to be nearest the bathroom.
“The rooms are too small to hold much more than a dresser and a bed. If you put it in there you’re going to have too much shit everywhere. At least here you can do it without it being in the way,” he observed, tilting the beer up to his lips.
“Thank you,” I said seriously. “That really means a lot to me.”
He shrugged. “As long as you don’t care that I sleep with all the TV’s on, we’ll be okay. I can’t stand the constant quiet.”
I nodded.
“That’s fine,” I said, nerves starting to take over when I realized that we’d be staying in the same place for over three weeks.
Three weeks of being in close quarters with a man that set fire to my blood, and stirred things in me that hadn’t been stirred in a very, very long time.
“We’ll get your wheel after dinner. Are you ready? Do you need to change?” He asked hopefully.
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