Whiskey Sour (Crow Bar Brute Squad Book 3)

by Abby Knox

  Shots rang out in the dark, and she screamed.

  More screams echoed through the tunnel and more shouting. So many people, so much shooting and screaming, and the sounds of bodies hitting the dirt.

  She recognized the smell, the scruff of the beard against her neck, the voice.

  "Dash! What the fuck are you doing down here? They're going to kill you!" Harper squeaked.

  "Harper! I'm begging you for once in your life, be still and listen." He didn't sound angry. He didn't sound put out, annoyed, or frustrated. He was begging.

  For once, she did as he said.

  Minutes passed. Thank god for no more gunshots, Harper thought. People grappled with each other. Others cried out for help. The sounds of struggling and crying filled the tunnel and Harper prayed nobody was dead.

  An authoritative voice called out: "Area secured. I need someone who knows first aid."

  A second voice that Harper recognized as Billy's replied, "On it, Mike."

  Harper didn't know why Dash wasn't letting her up yet. She was about to ask, but then she felt the trembling. And then, warm wetness against the back of her neck.

  Her heart broke into a thousand pieces and knitted itself back together. "Dash," she heaved on a sob. "They could have killed you."

  His voice quivered. "You're okay."

  He seemed to be saying this to reassure himself. Dash didn't care that he could have been killed while going head to head with her kidnappers. He only cared that she was okay.

  Still, she needed to know what happened. "Who got shot?"

  Dash breathed in deeply and exhaled against her neck. "Mike shot those molls. They'll be okay, but their guy, not so much." Dash said.

  "Opal and Pearl!?" Harper couldn't help but worry about them. Yes, they'd tricked her and kidnapped her. After all this, Harper still maintained a feeling that these women had had no desire to be a part of any of this.

  "Shh… baby. They aimed, and Mike fired before any of us had our weapons even drawn. I'm so sorry, but they were about to—"

  Harper cut him off. "Let me up!"

  Dash eased off of her, and she rose to seated. She grabbed his face and began to cry harder. "What are you even doing down here?"

  He began to explain, but Harper cut him off again. "I don't care. Of course, you figured it out. See? I told you you were a genius."

  With tears streaming down her face, she kissed him so hard she knocked him over. Dash didn't seem to mind.

  At least until he realized she was trembling from head to toe.

  "Let's get you out of here."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Harper

  * * *

  Dash held her hand all that day, through statement after statement for the police and the DA's office.

  She urged him to take a break, get some fresh air, get something to eat. But he did nothing but hold her hand, leaving only to fetch her water, snacks, and socks for her bare feet. He looked spooked, and his knee bounced up and down in anxiety.

  Through her conversations with the investigators, they learned that Girardi himself believed a hidden box of cash in the tunnels was not far from the distillery. The police couldn't say much, but they thought that the Girardi family's extravagant lifestyle had drained almost all of the crime boss's liquidity, and he needed cash to pay for lawyers as he awaited trial in federal court.

  As for Opal and Pearl, they were known mob girlfriends to Nick and Paul Russo. Informants had told police they believed the Russo crime family of New York had been waiting for their moment to control the Newcastle black market. "The New York outfit is hardly in need of cash," said the lead investigator. "We're waiting on official statements from the girls, but we think the Russos wanted to find that loot first as a way to send the message that they're in charge now. With Nick Russo dead, Paul on the run, and nobody with that supposed loot in hand, I'd guess the whole thing is going to die down or start a gang war. Either way, we'll be watching."

  Harper didn't feel delighted knowing that one of her captors was now missing, but when she looked over at Dash, she felt safer than she'd ever felt in her life."

  When Harper had signed the final report and was free to go, Dash pulled her to her feet and planted the most tender, sweet, chaste kiss on her forehead. A sense of relief and security washed over her.

  She could have let that bubble of safety continue, but soon felt as if they were being watched. When she craned her neck, Harper realized that the Dockside police precinct was overwhelmed with people. Not just the Brute Squad plus Mike but also her moms, Fr. O'Brien, DeeDee from the diner, Mr. Ruiz, and any number of people that she frequently spoke to daily. It felt as if the entire neighborhood was there.

  Her mouth hanging open, she looked around in astonishment.

  "What are you all doing here?"

  Lora and Desiree rushed over. "What the hell do you think we're doing here?"

  Harper laughed as she stood and accepted a hug from both her moms. "Not you. Everyone else."

  The lobby was crammed with people. Declan was there too, and Greg, and several people from the newspaper.

  "We all came to make sure you were okay," said Fr. O'Brien. "Never be so surprised at how much people care, Harper."

  Harper shook her head in awe.

  Mike then approached and handed her the plastic bag he was holding. "One of my buddies, who's a private investigator, found these shoes on the beach. I'm guessing they're yours?"

  Eyes wide, Harper snatched the bag open and found her socks and shoes that she'd stupidly left on the beach. "I would have given them to you sooner, but I just got here. I was taking care of some other business."

  Dash looked at Mike and said, "Why the hell didn't you tell me you found her shoes?"

  Mike turned to Dash and answered, "I didn't want Dash to lose hope. Finding someone's shoes on the beach usually doesn't bode well." He turned back to Harper. "As to the other business, we found your car."

  Mike explained that because she'd left her phone in the car. "The car was parked at an abandoned house near the warehouse district. Nobody was around, but it might be a place of interest to the police."

  Speechless, Harper grabbed Mike around the waist in a grateful hug.

  Dash grunted and shook Mike's hand. "While I don't appreciate you withholding that information from me, you probably did save me some stress. So thank you."

  With that, Dash scooped her up in his arms and whisked her away.

  "I got something to say to you without a thousand pairs of eyes watching us," Dash growled as they headed out the door.

  Once outside, he gently placed her in the back of Katie's SUV and then slid in beside her, buckling her up like she was a porcelain doll.

  "I can buckle my belt, Dash," she reminded.

  He ignored that and said what he needed to say.

  "I love you, Harper. I was out of my mind when I didn't know where you were. I regretted not saying it earlier."

  Her heart thudded in her chest. "I thought the same thing. I love you too, Dash."

  He brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. "You can call me Lynwood. I promise I won't get mad."

  She laughed as the car drove away from the police station. Harper wasn't entirely sure where Dash was taking her, but as long as Dash was with her, it would be home.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dash

  * * *

  "We make babies now."

  Harper let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a choke. They were making out on the stairs that led up to her bedroom. She planted a deep kiss against Dash's mouth, still overwhelmed by the night's events.

  At the moment, she took full advantage of the extra height this step provided. She liked that he didn't have to bend down to kiss her.

  "I have to tell you something, Dash," she breathed. "And you're not going to like it."

  Dash shook his head. "Something you have to say that I won't like? I refuse to believe it."

  She knew he was teasing, but w
hen she did not laugh, he stopped and looked into her eyes.

  "What is it, Firecracker?"

  "I…I don't know if I want to have babies. Like ever."

  Dash studied her face, but she did not see a hint of fear.

  "And?"

  She shook her head. Didn't he see? Did he not understand what that meant?

  "You won't pass on the Fitzgerald name."

  "I don't give a fuck about that. If we have kids, awesome. If not, then we won't, and then I get to keep you all to myself."

  She smiled and explained, "You say that now, but you're going to feel the pressure in a couple of years when Levi and Holden have babies."

  "Then they'll be jealous of us. I'm not worried," he said, sliding one finger into the waistband of her jeans and pulling her closer.

  Harper cupped his face and smiled.

  "What did I do to get so lucky?"

  Dash lifted one shoulder. "Well, you never did what I said, and that pissed me off. So I wouldn't call it luck. I'd call it sheer stubbornness."

  "We both have a stubborn streak."

  He considered that for a moment and corrected her. "More of a stubborn swath."

  She laughed. "A whole-ass acreage of obstinance."

  "A forest of no fucks given," he offered.

  He pulled Harper in close and kissed her. He would never get tired of kissing his Harper.

  He felt her tremble against him as her legs circled his hips. She squeezed and said, "I'm gonna make a meal out of you tonight, Lynwood Dashell Fitzgerald."

  He chuckled. "I like the sound of that."

  She kissed him again and whispered. "It's my way of saying thank you."

  "Too bad," he said, hoisting her up in his arms and bounding up the steps. "With that bum ankle, I'm gonna be the one in charge."

  He looked down and watched her pout as he carefully tugged off her jeans and undies and ordered her to lift her arms so he could get rid of her bra and shirt.

  "But my meal," she said.

  Dash smirked and rid himself of his clothes, his already hard cock thwapping against his abdomen when he shoved his boxer briefs down.

  A naked Dash seated himself next to her on the bed and carefully propped her leg onto a stack of pillows, examining the job that the EMTs did with re-wrapping her ankle. "Too bad about your meal," he said. "I got plans to make a whole-ass Old Country Buffet outta you."

  Harper laughed so hard she went silent, but still managed to relax enough for Dash to slide in the tip.

  "You're ridiculous, and I fucking love you."

  "Dammit, woman. I fucking love you more."

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  * * *

  The tunnels under Newcastle were finally being filled after years of constant reporting and dogging by Harper Fitzross.

  That was the new last name that she and Dash had chosen, to signify the end to the decades-long feud between the two families.

  The supposed mafia treasure was never found. Harper later learned that the reason Girardi was so desperate to get his hands on the legendary booty was to pay for legal expenses as the feds continued to build and build the government's case against the crime family. Lawyer after lawyer had quit due to non-payment. And because the feds had frozen most of his accounts, any illegal revenues had been spent supporting his family members' lavish lifestyle.

  Five years after the attempt on the governor's life, and Girardi was likely to live out the rest of his days in prison, with a host of other convictions.

  The neighborhood seemed to have breathed a sigh of relief when the sentence came down, and the remains of his disloyal family high-tailed it to Mexico. That's not to say Newcastle was crime free. Far from it; various organized crime outfits still caused trouble from time to time.

  Most importantly for everyone in Dockside, the infamous Recruiter had been found out and prosecuted — but that's another Newcastle tale for another time.

  As for Dash, he'd taken over the reins at the newly renamed Fitzross Distillery so Lora and Desiree could retire.

  As for babies, Dash and Harper were getting ready to welcome a foster baby into their home, one that would arrive the next day.

  On the eve of the most anticipated day of their marriage, Harper stood on a ladder, painting the upstairs bedroom. Dash had built a second bedroom on the tiny house for himself and Harper.

  "I thought I told you no climbing up ladders."

  When she'd taken that tumble after being kidnapped, it had turned out that Harper had broken her ankle. It had healed fine but still bothered her sometimes. Dash had never gotten over it.

  "Dude, it was five years ago. Give it a rest. Besides, we have work to do."

  "Come here," he ordered.

  Harper still didn't take orders from Dash, except when he needed her. Her body trembled at the need she heard in his voice.

  Carefully turning around on the ladder, Harper circled her arms around Dash's neck and kissed along the strong cords that still made her body hum whenever she stared too long.

  "I like the height of you on this ladder. I don't have to bend down to kiss you," he said.

  She smiled. "What's wrong? Don't you enjoy breaking your back to lay one on me?"

  He squeezed her tight against him. "Firecracker, I would break all my bones in my body just to get to you."

  Harper's heart pounded. "You nearly did once."

  "And I'd do it again."

  "Really not necessary."

  Dash trembled against her, transmitting the rage he still felt at her being taken from him. "It was five years ago this exact day."

  She rested her forehead against his. "Listen. Look at me. I'm right here, Dash."

  "I know," he grumbled.

  "I'm not going anywhere. They can't hurt us or keep us apart."

  "I know," he said, blowing out a shaky breath. "I still can't take the fact that someone put their hands on you."

  "Five years ago," she reminded him.

  "When I think of what could have happened to you," he started but could not finish due to the lump in his throat.

  "Baby," she said, "I'm right here. I'm safe."

  Dash buried his face in her neck, emitting a low grunt of acknowledgment.

  "Look," she said, taking his hand and placing it on her breast. "Feel that? I'm here. Right now."

  Dash absorbed the kiss and let the comfort of her wash over him.

  He responded by dragging his palms from her hips up her sides until he'd hiked the tank top she wore up above to her soft, round melons. "You're right. This is perfect. They're right in my face."

  She laughed and swatted Dash on the shoulder, but then she wasn't laughing anymore. She sucked in her breath as his mouth covered one nipple through the fabric of her thin bra while his other hand cupped and massaged her other tit, his thumb grazing and teasing out her other nipple.

  "Baby," she said. "We don't have time. You have to go to work. And your mom will be here any minute to help me finish the nursery."

  Dash greedily continued playing with his wife's breasts, using his hands and mouth.

  "I told Mom I had it handled, and she didn't need to help. She'll be here tomorrow to help us welcome the baby with everyone else."

  "Wait, stop. What?"

  Dash immediately stopped what he was doing and watched his wife tug her shirt back down, appearing indignant.

  "I told her to come tomorrow," Dash repeated.

  Harper's face went from indignant to rage-filled, her freckles turning bright on top of her flushed cheeks. "Why would you do that? I need help! The baby will be here tomorrow, and this room is not complete!"

  Dash hooked his thumbs into her belt loops to keep her steady on the ladder amidst her wild gesticulating. "Firecracker. I took the day off work. I'll help you."

  He grinned.

  "Dash, but what about tomorrow? You took tomorrow off too?"

  He lifted one shoulder. "I forgot to tell you the news. Lori and Desiree are coming back
for three months so I can go on paternity leave."

  Harper's eyes went so wide, so shocked, that Dash thought she might punch him. "I would tell you that's bullshit, but that sounds exactly like something they would do," Harper said, her voice shaking.

  "Don't cry on me now," Dash said. "Happy tears, sad tears. No time for crying; we got shit to take care of."

  Harper covered her mouth, then let her hand fall away. She tugged off the tank top and removed the bra.

  "Whoa!" Dash marveled, watching her size B cup jostle as she freed herself.

  "Scratch that," Harper said. "Screw painting. This is our last day as a couple before we become parents."

  "I'm sorry I didn't plan a babymoon."

  She dismissed this notion. "Pssh. People like us don't need a babymoon. We get the job done whenever and wherever it's needed."

  "Oh. Like on a ladder?"

  "Yup. Now lemme see that hammer, I got something that needs pounding."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah."

  "I don't think you're something is ready for this hammer."

  "Oh she's ready."

  Harper put one hand on Dash's shoulder to steady herself, then worked the stretchy waistband of her bike shorts down.

  "Fuck this shit," Dash grumbled and grabbed at the elastic. Harper grabbed his wrist. "No, dude. You already wrecked my anniversary teddy last week. I need these shorts. Trust me. This way is easier and less painful."

  He finally agreed to help her lose the bike shorts and undies underneath.

  Seconds later, she climbed up the ladder and seated herself on one ladder rung even with his midsection. "Now come on, cowboy. Let's go."

  "Hang on. I gotta absorb this mental picture of my wife on a ladder, buck naked."

  Dash stepped back and made a frame with his hands. "Hold on, something's not right."

  "What is it? I'm drying up over here."

  Dash reached around and tapped the rung two levels up. "This one."

  Harper opened her mouth to protest until she got a good look at the expression on his face. "You're evil."