Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5

by James, Victoria L.

  There, by the window, stood Rubin. His eyes narrowed, jaw set tight, and his arms out with the gun aimed directly at his father.

  “And fuck you once more,” he pushed out through gritted teeth.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  AYDA

  My ears rang violently. The shot was in close quarters, and Rubin was standing just in front of me, within reaching distance. To his credit, he’d squeezed off his shot without hesitation. Rubin heard and saw the fight between Drew and Walsh, turned and raised the gun, pulling the trigger all in the space of a single heartbeat. He was still standing, legs shoulder width apart, both hands on the gun, and his grip completely steady. The only difference now was that his trigger finger was lying against the guard and no longer on the trigger itself.

  My hands were trembling, and my legs felt weak. My heart was also having a real hard time finding it’s normal rhythm again.

  Drew seemed as equally shocked as me, his eyes on the kid and filled with a disbelief I was clearly identifying with.

  None of us moved, even with the sound of sirens growing louder and louder, and the mayor writhing in pain, only a foot away from Drew. I gave him a cursory glance, but it was all I was willing to give him after the hateful shit he’d thrown at his son. He was lucky he wasn’t dead.

  He deserved to be.

  The sound of the sirens continued to get louder, even as we stayed frozen, and it was only when Rubin lowered the gun that Drew and I seemed to find our motor functions again. If his father’s words or the venom in his tone hurt Rubin, it didn’t reflect in his eyes. They were still trained on Walsh, his normally smiling mouth now a flat line, and his jaw set even harder.

  “We’re running out of time,” I whispered, the sound distorted by the fading ringing inside my ears. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

  Drew moved quickly, scrambling to his feet as carefully as he could. Stunned wasn’t an emotion he showed often. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen the look he was wearing as he glanced at Rubin and back down at Walsh, repeating the action over and over again.

  He took a moment to think, scanning the possible exits before his eyes settled on the window ledge. “Ayda, take Rubin to the bike. I’ll grab Walsh. He has to come with us now.”

  I nodded my agreement, letting my eyes move between the two men before tapping Rubin on the elbow to get him moving.

  “He keeps the keys to his BMW on the hook in the kitchen. Mom has the Land Rover with her in Dallas,” Rubin said as he pushed the gun into the back waist of his jeans. He glanced at me with a small nod as stepped out of the shattered window, the glass tinkling and crunching before he hopped over the edge with ease and landed beside me. He left without a backward glance at his father, and I only stayed long enough to meet Drew’s eyes before rushing to catch up.

  “You okay?” I asked, unable to help myself as we slipped through the gate at a slow loping run. I pointed to the house three doors down and let him take the lead.

  “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t, but that was something we could deal with later. Right now, I needed him away from this scene before the cops showed up. If we managed to get away with the cops not seeing Drew’s bike, all the better. We moved quickly over the yard, avoiding the main street, and slipped back to where we’d left Drew’s bike. It was something comforting and familiar for me, but anxiety bled from Rubin as he thought about riding it.

  “You know any back roads?” I asked, attaching Drew’s helmet to the back and offering Rubin mine. Rubin took it from me and pulled the standard helmet over his dark hair, still avoiding eye contact as he worked.

  “I ride my bike everywhere. I know every back road.” He paused and rested his hand on the bike’s tank, swinging his leg over it and looking more natural than I thought he would. Glancing up, he stared at me. “I’ll try and avoid damaging the bike, but I’ll make sure it’s not seen.”

  I nodded, not really needing the assurance. “We trust you. Just be safe.”

  “What should I tell the others?”

  I glanced down the drive we were standing on and watched as a sleek black car pulled up to the end and idled quietly.

  “Tell them Drew will call them if something changes.”

  Rubin nodded and kicked the bike below him to life, with a nervous glance at the BMW now crawling to the end of Mayor Walsh’s drive. I didn’t know where this was leading any more than he did, but I fought the sudden instinct to hug him. Rubin wouldn’t have wanted that to happen in front of Walsh, I was certain of that.

  “Go. Be safe.”

  With a twist of his wrist, he took off slowly down the drive, and I followed, noting the subtle nod he gave to Drew as he made a small turn between two houses and disappeared.

  Slipping into the car Drew was now driving, I finally found enough air to breathe and glanced over at him.

  “He’s taking the backroads so he won’t be seen.”

  Walsh groaned behind us, followed by him hissing through his teeth. Drew turned to look at him in the back seat, taking the opportunity to glance out of the rear window while he was there.

  “We can’t head back to The Hut. Not with him in the back,” he said, staring at Walsh but clearly talking to me. “The note I just made this fucker write pleading his guilt should stall ATF for a while, but it won’t be long before they scour every inch of Babylon for him. The first place they’ll look is our property. It’s where they know Rubin’s been lately. We need to take a ride out of Babylon and dump this fucker, once and for all.”

  “What are you gonna do?” Walsh croaked. “Kill me?”

  “Tempting.” Drew narrowed his eyes. “Very fucking tempting. I should kill you for disrespecting your son alone, but we’ll discuss the particulars of your fate later.”

  Drew spun back to face the steering wheel, his hand curling around it with force. “You okay?” he whispered, reaching out to take my hand.

  “That little bastard ain’t no son of mine,” Walsh spat before I could respond. He coughed out a bitter laugh and shifted in the back seat.

  If he was stalling for time, it was a pointless gesture. Drew was already gunning the engine, his free hand squeezing mine as I tried to ignore the barb on Rubin’s behalf. The moment we saw the flashing lights of official vehicles heading closer, Drew pulled into a drive of a home and killed the engine, waiting as line after line of official vehicles sped past, not so much as glancing at the BMW on their way.

  My heart was beating so loudly in my chest, it was a wonder the two men couldn’t hear it. All it would take would be one of those cops to glance up the drive and see the plate, and they would know who the car belonged to. They probably knew everything about him as they were heading to his home to arrest him. As much as that was on Walsh, the fact that he had a fresh hole in him, and he was currently being forced to ride in the back of his expensive car was problematic.

  Whether it was divine intervention or pure luck, the last of the cars sped past without so much as a pause, and I pulled in as much air as I could, bracing myself as Drew checked all the mirrors and backed from the drive like it was completely normal. We hit the road again and pulled from the subdivision like the Devil himself was on our heels, thankful to see that not one cop was sitting, waiting for an attempted escape.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, wriggling to sit up in the soft leather.

  “I don’t know,” he muttered, his eyes flying in all directions. “I was thinking we could—”

  His phone rang in his jeans pocket, cutting him off from whatever he was going to say.

  Drew glanced at me and raised his ass, gesturing for me to retrieve it for him as he navigated the roads at high speed. When I pulled it out, Eric’s name lit up the screen.

  “Thank fuck. Put it on speaker,” Drew told me, his relief obvious.

  I kept my eyes locked on him as he stared down at the screen, and I accepted the call, lifting it between us both.

  “Eric! Where the fuc
k are you? I need you!” Drew barked.

  Silence lingered, the tension created in a second before a familiar, sadistic voice filtered through the speaker. “Well, well, well. The big, bad Drew Tucker needs his daddy.”

  My eyes lifted from the small handset in my grip where Eric’s name was steady on the screen, and I met them with Drew’s. My blood felt like it had been filtered through ice. The voice made my thumb twitch. I’d never wanted to end a call so much in my life. I was scared but Drew held my gaze before flickering a glance to the road and back to the phone.

  “Trigger?” he said in question, his voice low and rough.

  “The one and only,” Travis ‘Trigger’ Gatlin answered smugly.

  Drew’s hand tensed around the wheel, his eyes glazing over with fire and anger. “Where the fuck is my father?”

  “He’s... hanging around.”

  Drew glanced at me, his frown deep and filled with worry. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Now, now, Drew. You sound like you’re getting frustrated. Pull the car over. Take a breath. Think things through. I wouldn’t want you crashing that beautiful car you’re in when you have cargo in there that belongs to me.”

  I wanted to spin around and look behind us. I wanted to see if Walsh was in the back seat with a phone, or if there were bikes that would have the Nav’s Reaper and Rifles painted onto the tank. Not that it mattered. Trigger knew where we were and what vehicle we were in, and that wasn’t a coincidence. We were in trouble.

  Unexpected trouble.

  My eyes flicked to meet Drew’s, pretty sure I knew what I would see there. He was going to regret having me in this car and regret that he’d taken me with him to begin with. Regrets and more regrets. I just had to make sure that I didn’t show him how scared I was and give more power to those thoughts. We were in this, here and now, and we were in it together. Nothing could be done to help that.

  Drew gritted his teeth, his control slipping as his foot seemed to gain weight on the accelerator. “Where’s my father, Gatlin?”

  “About ten feet away from me.”

  “You bastard,” Drew ground out, knuckles turning white on the wheel as he threw his body back into the leather seat and tore down the road. He suddenly had a direction, and he was heading there without thought, taking a tight right turn at once toward The Nav’s border. “If you’ve touched him, hurt him, so much as whispered too close to his face, I’ll—”

  Trigger laughed, the tone dripping with sarcasm. “What? What are you going to do, Tucker? Fuck things up like usual? Lead with the fists and escape death by the skin of your teeth like usual? Kill that stupid motherfucking mayor who’s bleeding all over those beautiful, cream leather seats, and then deal with the wreckage later… as usual? Get one of your other innocent brothers to take the fall because you’re too loved up to suffer the consequences of your actions like fucking usual?” He blew out a breath, chuckling on the end of it. “God, it must be real damn tiring having you as their king.”

  Drew’s jaw worked back and forth, the red mist taking over. “Keep talking, Trigger. Keep talking.”

  “How about we talk face to face? Deal with this like real men?”

  I was staring at the screen, but the moment Trigger said it, I looked up and stared at Drew’s murderous face, already knowing the answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  DREW

  “Where?”

  “FM fifty-five. My men are waiting for you.”

  Casting a side-eye at Ayda, I knew I was caught between a rock and a hard place. There was no way we could head back to The Hut, not now everything in Babylon was finally coming to a head. If I dropped Ayda off at the side of the road and told her to make her own way back, anyone could grab her. If The Navs had gotten hold of Eric, they’d be able to throw Ayda in the back of a van without worry. I couldn’t even drop her at a motel. For all I knew, Trigger had Walsh’s BMW rigged up with a camera the same way Owen Sinclair had set up our yard, bikes, and home.

  She had to stay with me, no matter what. At least this way I had a chance of keeping her safe rather than setting her free to fend for herself.

  I smacked a hard palm against the steering wheel, my growl of anger shameless.

  Trigger laughed down the line. “You always make this too easy.”

  “I will fuck you up, Trigger. I will fucking end you.”

  ‘I can’t wait. See you soon, Tucker. Don’t kill my cargo before you get here. I’d hate to have to do the same to your old man.” The sound of something hitting something else rang out, like a swift kick to a body, and it was soon followed by a deep, painful groan, one I instantly recognized as Eric’s.

  That sound made my stomach twist with nausea.

  Nobody else.

  I couldn’t lose anybody else.

  Snatching the phone from Ayda, I ended the call and threw the cell in the footwell by her feet, crying out in rage, “Motherfucker!”

  “You think this car is rigged?” she asked quietly, glancing back at Walsh. “I don’t want to make it worse by saying something more if they can hear us.”

  I caught Walsh’s eye in the rearview, watching his slow, smug smirk creep into place, and his brows rise.

  “Let’s find out, shall we?” I spun the car to the side of the road, coming to a sharp stop. There was no time to waste as I turned in my seat, leaned into the back and grabbed Walsh by the throat, squeezing it tight with one hand while my other came up to press a thumb on his gunshot wound.

  His cry was high-pitched and wild, his face scrunching tight as the pain took over.

  “Seeing stars yet, fucker?” I pushed out through gritted teeth, my eyes practically bleeding with venom.

  “Argh!” he hissed, his pain a noise I wanted to drown in. “Stop, Tucker. Fuck.”

  Walsh tried to push me off him, but my fingers were pulsing and my rage wanted to snap his neck in one move. I wanted his blood on my hands and to feel nothing but pride that I was the one who caused him so much agony.

  “What the fuck has Trigger got on you?”

  “I…” Walsh groaned again. “I can’t… talk….”

  Releasing my hold on his neck, I let him drag a sharp breath in, my hand hovering there. “You have twenty seconds.”

  He coughed hard, his head rolling back. I may have let him breathe, but the pain he’d be feeling in that gunshot wound alone should have been enough to knock him out as I pressed on it.

  “He’ll want me dead,” Walsh croaked. “But he’ll want me dead by his own hands, not yours.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he hates you. He hates you more than he wants me dead.”

  My nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge—my body surging with adrenaline as I pressed hard on Walsh’s throat again. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now just to piss him off.”

  “Do it.” Walsh hit back, his eyes widening. “If you kill me, Trigger will kill Eric, and then my death will be worth it. It’ll all have been worth it.”

  My frown was hard as I studied his face, struggling to connect the dots as to why Mayor Walsh would want my father dead… and want it so much that he was willing to put his own life to an end to see it through.

  “What don’t I know?” I pressed. “Tell me. Give me something. Give me anything that gives me a reason to save you as well as Eric.”

  Walsh scowled that time, his eyes crossing over as he no doubt saw stars in front of him before he managed to refocus on my face. “Save me? Why would you want to save me?”

  “I don’t. I want you buried under my front porch so I can stand on your fucking skull every damn morning and every damn night. But I know a kid who says he hates you and probably, somewhere deep down in that confused, young brain of his, actually loves you. I know what it’s like to think you hate the man who brought you into this world. I know the way it twists your gut up every day you’re breathing, and even though I despise you, I kinda like him, so consider yourself fucking
blessed.” I pressed my thumb down hard on his wound. “In agony, but blessed.”

  Walsh looked up at the corners of the car, his eyes drifting all around before he opened his mouth to speak. “You need to be careful.”

  “And you need to speak. We’re running out of—”

  The phone by Ayda’s feet rang again, and I closed my eyes slowly, knowing what was coming and who that was.

  Ayda looked at me for only a second before she reached down and picked it up, flashing the screen my way, where Eric’s name was in lights, demanding our attention. With a slide of her thumb, a dull thud and quiet groan filled the small interior of the car, drowning out Walsh’s pained breaths.

  “Put my toy down, Tucker, or I’ll put yours down for good.”

  I growled and released Walsh slowly, making sure to push him back as hard as I could before I spun back around and slid into place behind the steering wheel.

  I took the phone from Ayda as carefully as I could, bringing the speaker close to my mouth.

  “Let me take my girl somewhere safe first,” I demanded, my voice no longer sounding like my own as it struggled to hold back a million threats. “I’ll bring Walsh, but you—”

  Trigger’s laughter was manic, and I had a vision of his throwing his head back as his amusement poured out of him. I sighed heavily, the weight of my worries falling from it as I turned and locked eyes on Ayda, offering her more silent apologies.

  “This isn’t a negotiation, Tucker.”

  “She doesn’t need to be a part of this.”

  “I have a device placed in Walsh’s car that can blow you three up with a push of a button. She’s a part of this because I say she is. Now start the engine. Put that delicate little foot of yours on the gas. Push it down, and get… the fuck… here. Now.”

  Ayda’s eyes slid closed, and her hands twitched in her lap, but she only needed a moment before the stubborn tilt of her chin set in and her shoulders squared. She wasn’t happy, but she was okay. She turned and gave a resigned nod of agreement.