Lucky
You could tell a lot about a man from the look of his eyes.
You could tell even more about a man when he couldn’t look you in the eyes.
And right now, Gonzalez couldn’t look at me.
"Bolillo," he acknowledged in a tight tone when the men tossed me on the ground, feet from the roaring flames of the bonfire. "It is time."
Above the sound of the fire roaring and the conflict, I could hear Noah still roaring and calling my name, but it was the sound of a baby crying that really broke through my thoughts.
I wasn’t a squeamish man as a rule, I wasn’t a forgiving one either, but the sight of Annabelle cradling her screaming baby less than fifty feet from me, while one of G's men held a gun to her head, did some horrible fucking things to my conscience.
"A mother and baby?" I tossed out, glaring at the piece of shit that had clearly betrayed me. "The fuck you doing, G?"
Maybe it was impending fatherhood that brought the emotions out of me, but this was wrong.
Maybe it was knowing I would never meet my own child that made me feel for Annabelle.
Because I wouldn’t.
And Hope?
Fuck, I couldn’t think about it.
I couldn’t think about what this was going to do to her.
I needed to hold it together.
I would not crumble like a pussy.
"What needs to be done, Bolillo," Gonzalez bit out. He still wouldn’t look me in the goddamn eye.
"You fucked me over, G," I growled. "And for what?"
Gonzalez clenched his jaw and looked into the flames, but didn’t answer me.
Using every ounce of strength that I had left in my body, I forced myself to get up off that fucking ground.
I was not dying on my knees for any motherfucker.
And certainly not a turncoat bastard like him.
With blood oozing from my chest and stomach, I reached one hand into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes.
If I was going out tonight, I was having a goddamn smoke first.
Weak to the bone, I put the box to my lips and pulled out a smoke, but I couldn’t light it. I was too fucking weak.
Gonzalez finally looked at me with stormy eyes and a masked expression. He muttered a string of curses under his breath before digging into his own pocket and pulling out his lighter. Flicking it open, he stepped forward and lit my cigarette.
A tall, weathered looking man stepped out of the shadows then, and I knew.
I knew exactly why this was happening.
Why I'd been summoned here tonight.
I'd been double-crossed.
"Mr. Casarazzi," the old man said in a light tone. "We finally meet."
Tilting my head to one side, I cocked a brow and stared at the ageing man in front of me.
So, this was him.
The famous fucking sperm donor.
My best friend's father.
Hope's grandfather.
David Henderson.
Shaking my head, I took a deep drag of my smoke and turned to Gonzalez. "What did he offer you?" I asked in a flat tone. "Thirty pieces of silver?"
Gonzalez didn’t respond, but his nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists at his side.
"And you took it like the Judas bastard you are," I told him. "You have no honor, G. No goddamn loyalty."
"Now, now," David taunted, chuckling darkly. "Don’t be a sore loser, Lucky."
Clenching my jaw, I turned to glare at him. "You gonna kill me yourself, David?" I looked him up and down before sneering in disgust. "Or are you afraid to get your own hands bloodied?"
David grinned darkly at me. "Get the other one," he barked. "I want him to watch."
"Before we go any further, there is the matter of the girl," Gonzalez interrupted, eyes locked on David. "Your daughter."
"Daughter?" David threw his head back and laughed. "She's a result of a couple of hours of fun in a whorehouse. Nothing more."
Gonzalez stared hard at him for the longest moment before finally nodding stiffly to one of his men who strode off in the direction I'd come from.
Moments later, Noah came into my vision. He was surrounded by half a dozen men who were watching him warily while they wrestled to restrain him, and hold him back.
"You fucking monster!" Noah roared, glaring at Gonzalez.
The man who was aiming a gun at his temple, brought it down hard on the back of Noah's skull.
The move would have knocked a normal man out cold, but Noah wasn’t a normal man.
Snarling, he lunged forward and head-butted the asshole, knocking him clean off his feet.
Blood sprayed everywhere as Noah tried and failed to break from the horde of assholes holding him back.
"Now this one," David chuckled, gesturing towards where Noah was being forced to the ground by countless men. "Is a pleasant surprise." He locked eyes on my fallen friend and said, "Hello, son."
"Fuck you!" Noah lunged towards him, stopped only by the sheer force of multiple men as they struggled to overpower him and remain in control. "You're no fucking father of mine," he continued to roar. "Had one of those and he's buried not too far from here. You'll be joining him soon enough!"
"All brawns and no brains," David tutted. "What a shame."
Gonzalez raised his hand towards the man aiming the gun at Annabelle and ordered, "Take the child."
The toddler was ripped from Annabelle's arms and handed off to another man.
My stomach churned when I heard the feral scream that tore from her throat.
"Don’t hurt him," she screamed. "Please…. Don’t hurt my baby."
I moved to do something, any fucking thing, to stop this from happening, but my body failed me. Staggering towards her, I collapsed on my knees, taking a boot to the stomach in the process.
"Noah," Annabelle cried out then as the gunman aimed at her face. "Noah, please…take him home to his father," she strangled out. "You know," she begged. "You know…please, just take him home to Jordan –"
Bang.
She collapsed on the ground, lifeless, and with a steady stream of blood pouring from between her eyes.
The sound of that baby screaming out "Mama, Mama," broke something inside of me.
Something inside of me died.
I could hear Noah roaring out my name, begging for mercy, but I knew there would be none shown here tonight.
I sank back on my knees, and exhaled a tortured breath.
"I'm afraid this is going to hurt, Bolillo," Gonzalez announced in gruff tone seconds before he aimed his gun at my chest. "See you on the other side, my friend."
I kept my eyes on my best friend, and in this moment, I prayed for a different life for him.
A different outcome.
I could see it; the pain in Noah's eyes – the helplessness – as he watched on.
"It's okay," I whispered, my words barely audible, but I hoped he heard me. "Tell Hope I'm s–"
"No!"
The roar that tore from Noah's throat was the last thing I heard before my body was riddled with lead.
And then, there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
I could feel it; the life seeping out of me, as I lay on the ground bleeding out.
Tell her I love her.
Tell her I'm sorry.
Tell her I loved her in death.
When I closed my eyes for the final time, and embraced the darkness sweeping over my body, I saw her face.
Hope.