by Jen Davis
Sucre stared at the ceiling like a parent would, dealing with an unruly child. “You know it’s not truly a hunt when someone hands you the prize on a silver platter, but fine, take her. Go.”
He wouldn’t let himself watch Tre pulling her away. Instead, he gathered his money and returned it to his pack. “I guess you need time to consider my proposal.”
“No. I accept.” Sucre held out his hand for the backpack, and he handed it over right away. “I think you’re holding out on me a little, though. I thought you had closer to fifty thousand dollars in your old table. What are you doing with the rest of the money?”
“I thought I would put together a special service for my grandma, you know? Even if I’m the only one there, she deserves to have something nice.”
Sucre looked at him with a hint of pity. “You really are a sentimental fool.”
“I thought maybe we could call the whole crew together. Make an announcement. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Sure, Brick, call everybody in. Tell them to get here in the next thirty minutes.”
A half an hour would be perfect.
***
Liv
Liv didn’t expect Jonathan to do anything to tip off Sucre to their relationship. Still, when he acted like she meant nothing to him, it was a knife in her heart. When he’d looked at her, she saw nothing of the man she knew in his eyes. He was empty.
She had no choice but to save herself. You can’t win the prize if you stop running the race. Of course, she couldn’t do it from the trunk, where someone had shoved her yet again. It would have to happen when they got to Tre’s apartment.
Keeping her breathing as even as possible, she worked to stay calm so she could think this through. It would only excite him more if she gave in to her fear.
The knowledge helped her manage a blank look of acceptance when he finally opened the trunk to let her out. His disappointment was evident. Snarling, he yanked her by the arm to the pavement beside him. “Don’t even bother trying to scream. No one here will help you.”
“I believe you,” she murmured. The street was deserted, and she had no illusions someone would come outside if she cried out.
“You don’t seem very scared, Miss Turner. I think I might have some ideas about how to change that. I can be very…inventive.” His gold tooth flashed when he smiled.
“Oh, I’m scared. But it’s different than before. Last time, I was running for my life. I was so sure you would catch me. It was the most terrified I’ve ever been.” She hung her head. “Now I know I’m going to die. I have no choice but to accept it. There’s no chance for escape.”
He slapped her across the face, and tears sprang to her eyes. She allowed them to fall, keeping a look of utter defeat on her face. It had the desired effect.
“You’re ruining it.” He hit her again, and she tasted blood on her lip.
“Go ahead. Get it over with.”
He’d already pulled back his hand for another strike when he froze, then dropped it to his side. “You know what we need here? A little drama. A little…anticipation.” He tipped up her chin with a crooked forefinger. “Nobody likes when a party ends too soon. How about we make it a little more interesting? Build in a little foreplay, heh?”
Her eyes widened. Oh God, was he talking about sex? Her arm ached as he curled his fingers around her bicep again and dragged her toward his apartment. She cursed herself for the hundredth time for ever coming here in the first place. Tre pushed her inside, then leaned against the front door. She stood frozen in front of him.
“We’re gonna do exactly like we did last time. I’m gonna give you a head start to run. Then I’m gonna chase you. And when I catch you,” he laughed low. “Well, there won’t be a single part of your body that doesn’t know it’s been conquered.”
He stepped away from the door. “Last time, I gave you three minutes, and you escaped me, but this time I know you better. It won’t happen again.” He stroked his hardening dick through his pants with the heel of his hand. “You ready, baby? Three minutes. On your mark. Get set. Go.”
Unwilling to waste a second, she ran out of the door like a shot, making a beeline to the burned-out building. It was probably the first place he’d check, but she’d be a sitting duck if she stayed out in the open.
She went in through the same blackened doorframe as last time. At least she knew some of the terrain. Her heart beat in her ears as she hoisted herself through the hole in the ceiling of the back bathroom. Thanks to Eduardo’s punishing calisthenics, this time, she could climb up on her own.
There was no source of light except for the few places illuminated by the setting sun’s rays trickling in from the charred patches in the structure. She’d lost her phone around the time someone snatched her from her apartment. Her eyes were slowly adjusting, but she saw little more than large shadows. It would have to be enough.
She stepped carefully, all too aware the floor beneath her could be unsound. Digging deep in her memory, she searched for Jonathan’s warning.
The third floor, he’d told her. The center of the hallway was bad.
She needed a way up there.
Her eyes picked up more of her surroundings. Now she could make out the location of the doors and the scurrying movement of the rodents at her feet. She had no time to be squeamish.
The ceiling above her appeared to be intact, so she left the room behind, searching for a way up. She found it in the fourth room she tried, climbing up from a countertop still covered with dishes and trash, which crunched under her feet.
Part of the wood broke away in her hands as she tried to hoist herself up, but eventually she found a beam solid enough to support her weight. Finally, she made it to the third floor. And now she could hear Tre moving below her, whistling the same slow melody as before. If she ever made it out of here, she’d never listen to the Rolling Stones again.
Squinting down the long hallway, she could see a few holes in the flooring, maybe two doors away; she needed to get Tre to walk on the bad stretch. But how? The only way he would charge through would be if he was chasing her, but that would put her in the danger zone first. Unless…
She eyed the ceiling speculatively.
If she could get to the fourth floor, she could come back down on the other side of the hallway. Use herself as bait. She had to move quickly. It would only work if she made it into place by the time Tre got to the third floor.
She needed a place to climb.
Praying for a miracle, she hurried into the apartment directly across from her.
***
Tre
Tre congratulated himself on the idea to let the pretty teacher run. It was so much more fun when they ran. He could imagine how quickly her heart beat, how the fear overwhelmed her.
He was hard as a rock right now; his cocked throbbed in his pants. The first thing he would do when he caught her was fuck her senseless. No doubt he’d fuck her again when he got through with her. Anticipation zipped through his veins.
He had no doubt Miss Turner returned to the same hiding place as last time. He could hear her movements echoing in the walls. She scurried above him.
He used his phone as a flashlight, trying to find a way up. There. In the bathroom.
Goddamn this place was nasty. It smelled like an old campfire and a sewer combined. There was shit in the toilet, most likely from squatters. Probably the same idiots who left their needles on the floor.
This girlie would to pay extra for making him get his hands dirty. The only mess he liked was the kind he made himself. He wiped his palms on his pants once he was firmly on the second floor, then ran the beam of his flashlight across the room. No sign of her, except an unmistakable trail left behind on the sooty floor.
She’d been here.
He cringed when he got to the kitchen where she’d hiked herself up to the third floor. Roaches covered the old dishes on the counter, and he refused to look any closer at what else was there.
The w
ood broke apart in his hands when he started to climb. It took longer than he wanted to make it to the next level, but he wouldn’t give up on his prey. He’d punish her for making him do all this work.
Going still, he listened for a sign of her location, but he heard only silence. Maybe she was hiding. No, the trail was still there, moving out the door.
A thump jerked his attention away from the floor to the end of the hall, where the teacher cowered. She dashed into the open door next to her, and he picked up speed in pursuit.
It only took three long strides before his boots broke through the fragile floor. His body hit the ground before he had a chance to scream.
Chapter 29
Brick
The thirty minutes after Liv and Tre left were the longest of Brick’s life. He focused on his breathing as he waited for Sucre’s entire crew to arrive. Every fiber of his body strained to go after his woman, but he had to trust his failsafe would come through, or all of this would be for nothing.
There were dozens of guys in the organization, from the dealers to the pimps to the bookies, and the muscle, like himself. By the time Sucre set, about forty guys had gathered in the bar, all loyal to the boss, all curious about why he called them.
They gathered around Sucre at his throne and Brick in his chair beside him.
“My friends. I’ve brought you here for a very special announcement.” All eyes followed Sucre as he rose to his feet. No one noticed the extra men, all clad in leather, creeping in around them.
“Brick has been an important part of this organization for the past fifteen years. He’s worked by my side, earning my trust, following the rules. Starting tonight, he is becoming something more. He’s not merely a collector or a punisher for wrongdoing. Tonight, he takes his place at my side as a partner.”
Sucre clapped, and the crowd followed suit.
Brick cracked a half-smile and waited for the noise to die down. Then, he stood next to the man who’d made his life a living hell. “Thank you. Sucre is right. I’ve done this job for many years. All this time, it’s been about what I can do with my fists and what I can do with this gun.” He pulled his Glock out of his waistband and waved it carelessly in the air. “I’m ready for a new challenge.”
Still smiling, he turned the gun on his longtime boss and slammed it into the side of his head. Before the bastard’s body even hit the floor, he opened fire, picking off the shell-shocked men around him.
They were still reaching for their own weapons when the brothers of The Skulls M.C. ambushed them from behind.
Kane trained his gun on Sucre, allowing him to watch his empire crumble in front of his eyes.
The massacre took less than a minute to play out, and not even the bartender was left alive when it was all said and done. Bodies littered the floor.
He turned to Sucre, who rose to his knees and lifted his chin defiantly, despite the inevitability of what was to come.
“Go ahead and kill me if you want, but you’ll never be free of me, Brick. You’ll never be anything more than the monster I made you.” The boss laughed darkly. “I’ll be with you for the rest of your life.”
He cocked his head. It was strange to see Sucre on his knees. Strange, but satisfying. “The only thing you’ll be…is a stain on the linoleum.”
A single shot to the head ended the reign of Sucre de la Cruz.
It was a cleaner death than he deserved.
Kane stepped forward. Blood dotted his face and matted his beard. “Where’s your girl?”
He grimaced. “Tre took her to the apartment. Will should be there already, but I’ve got to go.” He surveyed the blood, brains, and other nasty shit around him. “You sure your guys can take care of all this?”
“For ten thousand dollars paid in advance? Yeah, brother. We’ve got this.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll never forget it.” He leaned down and put one more slug in Sucre’s head, one last fuck you, before wading through the bodies out the front door.
Half of his plan had been a success, but none of it mattered if Will couldn’t get to his sister in time.
***
Liv
A loud crash verified Tre had stepped into Liv’s trap, but even with such a hard fall, there were no guarantees. In every horror movie she’d ever seen, the bad guy always got up again.
Her heart thundered in her chest. She held her breath, straining to catch a hint her stalker had resumed his hunt.
Before her lungs gave out, a familiar voice cut through the silence. “Liv!” It was her brother. “Liv, where are you?”
It sounded like he was right outside. Having him so close mobilized her to break out of her frozen fear. “Will, I’m coming out.” She sent up a prayer of thanks he was here. Now she just had to find a way out of this damn building. This side of the structure was unfamiliar.
She tested each step before she took it, making sure the floor could support her weight. Within a couple of minutes, she found the stairwell and made her way to the bottom floor.
Relief washed over her when she finally pushed her way out and saw her brother’s face. She should have known he’d be here. He’d always promised he’d be there when she needed him.
But why was he raising a gun?
Suddenly, an arm clamped around her neck. A shot thundered past her, and her brother fell to the ground.
A voice she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life, whispered in her ear. “You think you’re so smart,” Tre hissed. “I’m going to fuck your dead skull, you bitch.”
She didn’t think about it. Her body took over.
Tuck. Push. Step. Duck.
She tucked her chin beneath his arm, pushed back with her shoulder, stepped out, and ducked under his arm. Then she did exactly as her sister had instructed… She ran like hell.
***
Brick
Brick stopped breathing when Tre put Will on the ground and grabbed Olivia from behind. No way he could get a clean shot from here, and he wouldn’t take the chance of hitting her with a stray bullet.
His only hope was the element of surprise. He stalked forward.
But suddenly, his girl took off running. Twisting and turning, she’d escaped Tre’s hold and fled his way. He knew instantly the moment she recognized him. Her face transformed from terror to hope.
He fired as she scurried behind him. The bullet clipped Tre in the shoulder, and the bastard’s gun clattered to the ground. Not good enough. He pulled the trigger again, but nothing came out. He reached in his pocket for another clip, but there was nothing there.
Fine. He’d kill the sick fuck with his bare hands.
Roaring, he ran full tilt toward the man who tried to take away his girl. Tre was already reaching for his gun. A shot went off, and fire tore through his bicep, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. He smashed into Tre at top speed. A hard right-hook to the jaw dropped the kid to the ground.
The calm detachment he wore like a second skin burned away with the fire of his wrath. He kicked Tre in the ribs, the steel toe of his boot crunching bones beneath it.
He reached down and clamped his big hand over the front of Tre’s face, lifting him back to his feet. Then locking his fingers around Tre’s forearms, he shook the bastard violently.
“You wanted the thug life, you dumb fuck? You think you’re all badass trying to destroy something perfect?” he bellowed in his rage and began slamming his fist into Tre’s face. “You. Will. Never. Touch Her. Again.” He accentuated each word with another hit.
Tre had long stopped struggling beneath him. The only sound was the slapping of his knuckles against wet, meaty flesh…until Olivia whimpered behind him.
Grasping his enemy’s head, he twisted until he heard the familiar crack of a broken neck.
Tre had asked him once what his favorite way to kill someone was. Now he had an answer.
He released his opponent, dropping him gracelessly to the ground.
Sobs wracked Liv’s small body as she ran to her
brother. “Will,” she cried. “Oh my God, Will.”
He closed the distance between them in a few long strides. “Let me check him.”
She dropped down beside him as he knelt next to her brother and took his pulse. It was faint, but unmistakable. “He’s still alive.” He handed Liv his phone. “Call 911.”
A quick inventory of Will’s body revealed the bullet had hit him in the chest. It was on the right side, though, so it didn’t hit the heart. The lung might be another story. Distantly, he heard Olivia begging for an ambulance.
Shivering against the chill in the air, he pulled off his dark flannel shirt and put pressure against Will’s wound. He couldn’t do anything to help the man breathe, but he would do his damnedest to make sure the guy didn’t bleed to death.
Olivia crawled to the other side of her brother, whispering nonsensical words of love, her tears dripping down into his blonde hair. Soon, the plaintive wail of a siren grew close, and the running footsteps of paramedics moved in behind them.
Gratefully, he stepped out of the way, into the beam of a police flashlight. “Put your hands in the air,” the young cop shouted.
He did as the officer commanded. Olivia stood next to him, her hands up as well. “He’s been shot too. Please. Look, he’s bleeding.” Keeping one arm up, she gestured to Tre with the other. “He’s the one who did this. It was him.”
Cops were always wary of him because of his size, and it didn’t help he’d been hovering over Will’s body when they arrived. But Olivia’s pleas were difficult to ignore.
One of the EMTs checked him out, while the other loaded Will into the ambulance. “It’s a through-and-through,” she barked out to her partner, her attention trained on Brick. “Come on, you can ride in the ambulance with us.”
“No.” His voice was implacable. “I’m not leaving Olivia here alone.”
The woman’s hard face softened. “One of the officers will follow with her right behind us. Right, Jude?”